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#I'm entirely made out of stress at this point
cotl-flower-crown · 2 days
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Going on hiatus*
*Well, kinda.
Hey, I'm gonna start this post with "omg, this blog has more than 2 followers, what the fuck?? That's crazy!". I don't usually look at numbers, because I don't want it to be a focus on my platforms, but just know that I appreciate every single one of you and I hope that you all enjoy what I'm doing here. Like at the moment of writing this there is 2277 people that decided they want to look at my art more and it makes me very happy, thank you! ^^
So uhh yeah, hiatus.
Not gonna lie, the past few months has been stressful for me and I have reached the point where my chest and stomach are in pain and I can't get enough sleep because of it, among other things (damn you mosquitoes!!!). It's something that happened before and it might take me months to recover from it. So I suppose you could say that this hiatus is mainly for the health reasons.
Though it's also because my gut is telling me that it's time to move on from this fandom to do other things.
Hear me out. It's not that I hate COTL now, far from it, I still love this silly cult game and I will follow what MM has to offer for this game in the future. I am just kinda not keeping up with myself when it comes to posting. I've been trying to post about my favs at least once a week, but honestly it's been a struggle to pump out anything at all lately. It's not that I don't have anything to post, I'm just tired and burned out.
So yeah, I think it's time to put this blog on hiatus for the time being. What I mean by that is I don't want this blog to be the top of my priorities and I want to take it easy.
I don't want it to go completely silent though. I'm planning to open my ask box again, because I miss interacting with everyone. However I will not do any art requests or draw anything for the asks in general. If I do, it will most likely be poorly drawn or it will be something related to character design, since that's what I'm most comfortable with, but I would prefer not have to draw at all. Though I am open for writing. I also wish to draw sometimes, so maybe I will post some artwork when I feel like it. I'm just not gonna post as often as I used to. It might take like a month (maybe two, maybe three, etc) before I decide to make anything.
What's the future of this blog? I am not sure yet. There is a chance that eventually I will abandon this blog entirely OR I could repurpose it for fanart in general. To be honest I'm leaning towards the second option at the moment, but that is a future me's problem.
I think that's all I've got to say right now. Again Thank You everyone who decided to follow, reblog and like my art and leave comments, I appreciate it all, and thank you to my moots and friends that I made along the way, I love you all (plat/non parasocial) and I hope this will work out.
TLDR: I'm going on hiatus, but not completely silent, also ask box open, but no requests
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Started university and god is it a mess. The work in the lab is stressful and eats up a lot of my time.
If I'm not posting, blame the uni.
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magentagalaxies · 10 months
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on the note of kith season 6 (didn't want to derail the other post but have been thinking about this lately): one of the only things i disliked - or, rather, that felt off about the revival - was how crisp everything felt in terms of the aesthetic. like ik filmmaking technology has evolved since 1994 and they couldn't do the live studio audience even tho they wanted to bc of covid, but idk the original series despite clearly working with cbc and hbo always had this diy energy, vs the new season just very much felt like oh this is a corporate thing that was location scouted and filmed on a lot
but what's interesting about this fault is that you look into anything else the kids in the hall have made themselves in the past decades and it still has that exact diy aesthetic, sometimes unintentionally but that's the best part. like, i'm the most familiar with scott's works for obvious reasons, but you look at something like contemporary mouth congress music videos or any other video project scott's made just bc he wanted to make it and you can see obvious green screens, the fact that it was clearly filmed on an iPhone, using stuff around the house as props, etc. and if you look at bruce's youtube channel you get that sense as well, and it's so delightful to see bc yeah this comedy isn't a corporate entity, it's just something these guys have to make bc they are passionate about it
anyway i guess what i'm saying is if they ever decide to do another kith revival season they should have paul bellini direct it on his iphone 5 and film 99% of it at the toronto library's green screen room
idk maybe this post is too niche bc a lot of the stuff i'm citing (i.e. mouth congress music videos) hasn't actually been released yet and also i have literally been on these diy sets in the past year where someone just set up a pop-up greenscreen in their living room and my "job" is to make sure the pets don't wander into frame. but yeah idk i find it very funny that watching the revival my only complaint was the lack of that genuine diy spirit and then one year later i'm part of that type of production
#no idea if this is relatable i just had thoughts lmao#this is also inspired by the obvious greenscreen and using-his-real-cast-as-a-prop in scott's promotional video#like again it's probably bc i've been there when scott and paul are just casually filming something at paul's apartment#but i look at something like that and i can just feel all the conversations that went into putting it together#and it's funny bc i get that sense watching the original kith tv show but not as much the amazon show#(which is wild bc i have heard behind the scenes stories from the amazon show too??? spoiler alert people were very stressed)#and i also think the diy tendencies are why i even had a chance to connect with the kids in the hall#bc so many comedians just get accustomed to working exclusively on projects that a studio has set out for them#but the kids in the hall and ESPECIALLY paul bellini love smaller projects where they get to build something from the ground up#paul has made 5 different feature films that he wrote and directed and filmed entirely on an iphone 5#(not sure if they were all specifically that model of phone he may have upgraded at some point lmao)#(also he's planning to release them onto youtube soon!!)#but yeah the goal with these iphone films was never to win every award and make a bunch of money. it's the passion for making movies#and i think since i'm a very diy-oriented person who's like ''idc if someone gives me permission i'm gonna make a multimedia musical''#that's what made paul see potential in me which is why i even got the chance to do any of this stuff#anyway i guess what i'm saying is my advice for everyone is: just make the thing! even if you have no budget and no backing#bc even a scaled-down version of the thing is still impressive bc you made it!!#if scott thompson can film a ''crowd scene'' in scottland by drawing faces on a bunch of fingers and just filming people's hands#you can make your project something iconic
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mentally ill people who for whatever reason end up wearing the same exact clothing so many days in a row that it begins to disintegrate and will still not stop wearing it until it’s literally just scraps of fabric VS. those weird shitty rich people who ‘’can’t be seen in the same outfit twice’’ human dichotomy 
#poast brought to you by my pants that are missing an entire leg and completely open in the back and the front almost#to the point they could not really be considered pants anymore (I wear lots of layers so i have shorts under them but lol)#I tore them again sitting down and it made me introspect about when it's time to throw clothes out and how everyone has different standards#and etc. Like how some people will get stains on clothing and just throw it away#.where others will keep wearing stained stuff if they have an attachment to it. etc. etc.#or like One hole in jeans is okay but 20 holes is Crossing A Line - unless they were made that way as a fashion trend#which then made me think about those people who like.. change clothes multiple times a day and never want to rewear stuff#and just have a constant stream of fast fashion etc. Anyway. not a real dichotomy. just being silly. i like to think about humans behaviors#brggghghb.. still not being very productive as I just keep having flare up after flare up of various chronic issues I have so I'm feeling#sick like every few days but always for different reasons. As if something has increased the general  inflammation in my entire body#and its just bopping around making different things worse here and there. but I'm not sure of any underlying cause.#theorectially could always be stress since I am often stressed but I don't feel stressed more than usual. I have no infection markers#on blood tests and my covid tests so far have been negative. I guess my body just felt like 'hey happy new year. would you like.. uhm...#some... Problems.. as a treat? OuO''#I mean I'm lucky at this point that I don't have a condition that makes me completely bedridden or something and am grateful for that but#having so many smaller issues in the background overlapping all the time can be ehxausting and make it feel like a larger issue#because you just never get a break. once one problem clears up it's another. etc. modifying diet. supplements. doctors. new issue. new modif#ications. new doctors. new this#new that. etc. For my body to reach some sort of non-inflammed stable state I feel like I'm going to have to just be suspended in a gladd#*glass antigravity chamber for 3 years eating nothing but basic gruel and iv liquids. something so bland and so untriggering of anything#that literally nothing can be inflammed or etc. lol.. Though I'd probably still somehow have joint pain even with nogravity.#ANYWAY... I did finally edit a new sims video. for the few of you that follow my sims youtube. I have costumes totally ready to post I just#literally havent had the energy to queue up the photos. STILL WORKING ON EVIL WORLDBULDING SLIDESHOW task of  epic proportions#. other videos. other stuff. I've had to spend some time on social stuff since I really ned to get started finding friends in the potential#places I'd like to move so I know people when I get there. as it takes me like years to trust someone. but hjgh... I am so like. inherently#unrelatable to the average person. at least the avg people on friend making sites and stuff. I even made a perosnal compatibility quiz#but again.. thats something most people don't do lol... ''buhh just text snapchat me & get to know me through conversation why should i take#a 15 minute quiz up front?'' shut up. i woudl LOVE to take a custom compatibility quiz before talking to someone. its efficent. you will nev#er get it. that is a positive to me. if only anyone else did that. if only. (I'm being jokingly rude. its perfectly reaosnable for people to#have different standards and communication styles. etc. etc. lol) ANYWAY.. tldr me sleepy and feel bad no productive wehh
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eorzeashan · 1 year
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fail moment when i spent a huge time away from my wip just to realize after endless deliberation that eight and theron still aren't exactly friends it's just a weird coworker/roomie relationship with benefits and now i have to replace every time he mentions it with like, my associate or something
I think they'll become friends eventually. But a lot of elbow grease is needed and they keep messing up
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permanentreverie · 2 years
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I know changes need to be made when a story is being adapted from book to screen but that won't stop me from freaking out over every little changed detail
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A Week (He Will Take You)
~
Danny moved to Gotham for school, while there he noticed that Gotham's ambient ecto was really murky for lack of a better word.
This didn't really affect him too much besides a mild headache every once in a while but that also just might be stress from all his school work so maybe not.
Anyway
This murky ecto seemed to effect the people who lived there or more importantly the ghosts,
They were visible to the human eye like most ghosts back in Amity but instead of looking very much like a ghost they still looked like humans if a bit off putting.
They all seemed to be continuing their normal lives as if still fully alive, with the people around them none the wiser.
Danny noticed this and began approaching them to figure out what was going on.
Apparently the murky ecto in the city had made it so that they were strong enough to still continue a somewhat normal life but not be able to cross over to the GZ.
In other words they were stuck in Gotham
Danny was the Ghost King so he could easily fix this problem, all he needed to do was give them a bit of pure ecto for around a week to fully stabilize them them then he would just open a portal into the GZ and they could cross over with all their things also transferring into the GZ for their new haunt.
Unfortunately this looked rather worrying to an outsider,
Imagine you're used to your neighbor being very outgoing so you and others see them a lot suddenly this man seems to appear in their life out of nowhere an at exactly one week, your neighbor and all their belongings in their home disappear no trace to be found.
You tell people and they begin saying the same story they knew someone and them a man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in their life, then they and all their things disappear in exactly one week.
Of course the police in Gotham do the bare minimum so they're no help.
But it starts to begin a trend, especially online.
"Oh careful or the blue eyed man will make you disappear in a week"
This of course after time catches the bats attention, Gordon had already given them all the information he had.
"Young adult early twenties, dark hair, blue eyes"
That was it.
The bats look into it and from their point of view Danny is a serial killer.
But they can't find the connection between all of his victims, they range from young children and the elderly from different backgrounds absolutely no connection,
Worrying enough he doesn't just make one person disappear he has taken entire families up to over a dozen, without anyone figuring out how he's doing it or why at all.
The disturbing thing also being that he seems to take everything in their home, leaving it like it has always been empty
Like no one had been living in it.
People have tried to take photos of Danny get some kind of evidence of his existence, but when they try to do it, it either comes out completely corrupted or their devise simply shuts down fully.
Danny of course has no clue what is happening he's just happy that he's able to help so many ghosts, and is trying not to fail his exams.
~
Danny leaving the house he just helped: "That went easier than I expected!"
Neighbor peeking from the window: "Shit it's that guy! "
~
Red Hood marching down into the cave: " The fucker took many from my territory without me even realizing it!"
~
Tim: "I'm pretty sure his kill count is nearing the hundreds and he just started like maybe 4 months ago, this is bad."
Barbara: " I think I got a theory, this matches up with the new school year beginning so maybe their not a Gotham native which narrows down my suspect list."
Bruce: "Hn."
Tim: "Yes thank you B for the insightful commentary"
~
Danny trying not to fall asleep while on his way to class: "Strange I keep seeing shadows following me, oh well must be the stress!"
Bats who are pretty sure Danny is the killer: "Has he done anything suspicious yet?"
~
Just an Idea
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birdantlers · 1 year
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A heartfelt and grievously expanded-upon update to this—please, please read the whole thing if you can. reblogs much appreciated.
(DISCLAIMER, for all who are saying reasons like abusive parents/legal stuff/toxic ex/triggering memories/page got deleted/job/stalkers/bullying/[[insert any other shitty life thing]], This is not concerning that—personal safety & health ALWAYS comes first, and is worth more than any media ever could be. This is my biggest reason for defending that autonomy. I would be a hypocrite to say I hadn’t deleted triggering posts of mine or ones that got me in trouble with my family.)
it genuinely makes me sad and kinda upset when someone purges all their old art off the internet like. barring harmful content what if someone liked that. What if someone would have. And now nobody will ever know and it's just gone. even people's old invader zim askblogs or whatever getting deleted feels like a micro alexandria to me and that's just something I made up. I wasn't even thinking of a specific one it just stresses me out. Is this the autism I don't get why nobody else seems to freak internally abt it like I do. I see artists whose blogs I've never even looked at go like "man so glad I deleted all my old stuff it's so clean" or saying they throw out art from when they were kids I'm like. how are you not hurling. How is that not distressing that is literally your tree rings why would you do that. I want to see what's out there. people want to see it I promise someone out there likes it
...don't they??? Does everyone get quietly irrationally upset by this as me, or is this just hyperfixation/autism/some amalgam of the two. I'm not a hoarder or obsessive compulsive or anything like that so i wonder..
Anyways. reblog if you had a favorite amateur youtube animator in your childhood whose channel got nuked without a trace one day that you still think about.
I wanted to attach this video because it condenses my point very well. A TLDR of sorts. Please watch the whole thing, it genuinely changed the entire way I think about art as a concept.
(2nd vid is "Subjectivity in Art")
“The moment your art touches an audience, the ownership shifts in an irreversible way. [They're] not having an art experience with you and your intentions. They're having an art experience with the art object.
“You can't just burn your past; it's not even your past to burn anymore. It's other people's history as well. Whether or not you like it, that art is already bonded to somebody's soul, and if you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it.”
The digital age makes it very easy to distance or detach yourself from the impact your work has—be it art, fanfic, videos, even memes. Online content is as important to people now as any other media, if not more. But it's also by far the easiest, fastest, and most effective form of it to erase from public access. Media so unbelievably important to people and in general. Yes, you—with the 2010s purple sparkle dog speedpaint. I still think about that speedpaint all the time, because it was the first time i learned that you could draw on a computer, and I thought it was cool as hell. I still do.
I do wish there was a stronger culture of preservation and consideration for this, because every time I see people talk about snuffing their stuff because it doesn't personally resonate with them anymore, I just think ...what about all the people it did?
I've seen lots of people saying "get over it, it doesn't even matter," but it fucking does. It does matter. Even if I didn’t make it, even if I don’t have to deal with being the one who made it, even if I'm naturally inclined to be distressed by it—It still matters. And there’s nothing you could ever say to suddenly make it not matter, because there’s nothing you could ever say to make it not matter to me.
Don't devalue the act of creation. Don't dismiss something you made. It's out there, in people's thoughts and hearts and souls, and that is real. Even if you don't know it. Especially if you don't know it. Especially in a world where physical media is being snuffed out, the internet is constantly dying without any physical remains to recover, social isolation is rampant, and simply because independently produced content online is still media.
Fanfiction can hold equal or greater significance to someone as a book, but you can’t unpublish a book. Authors don’t have a button that can vaporize every copy of their work across all time, but fanfiction authors do. I’m not counting people who download fics either—when you buy a book, that transaction is over. But online, you have the power of unending transaction that can be terminated instantly at your will. The process of publishing fanfic vs. publishing a book may be different, but people’s connection to the art is the same intensity.
So yeah. I do get depressed about the Internet being a constant Alexandria, but the times I get the most depressed is when I click someone's page and see that all their work is gone because they're ‘curating a new aesthetic’ for their page or some shit. Or weeding out all the "ugly" art. Or just went on whatever the hell 'thrill deleting' is, because they just get a kick out of it.
Fuck it—yeah! It upsets me! I’m not wrong to say that. I’m saying it!
Under the cut, because it got long as shit! Also don’t worry the ending is way sappier and more ‘beauty of human nature’ vibe so it’s not all doom and gloom lol
What if that was someone's favorite art of that character. What if someone read that 'cringe oneshot' on the worst day of their life. What if that Warriors meme vid is still burned into a college student’s mind despite being gone for 10 years. What if it's actually not just you and the ones and zeros you rent out to the world—secure in knowing the original will always be on your computer for you to do whatever you want with it.
I really, deeply wish there was more of a general awareness of this, because even though social media can be used like a diary, that’s functionally the opposite of what it is. It’s social media. When you post, it’s no longer in a vacuum, even though you can’t see the real humans that content touches—often deeply.
Media is history. You shouldn’t burn that history just because you personally believe it isn’t worth saving.
Because it’s no longer just your personal opinion. It’s no longer just your personal work. it’s. history. Memory of media is not a suitable replacement for the media itself. If it was, we wouldn’t save anything at all. Nostalgia is an agent of that. The definition of nostalgia is grief for moments of the past that are inaccessible, and the biggest balm for that pain is accessing a physical reminder of those moments. That opinion of yours is no longer personal. It’s weighed against uncountable people across all time that your thing is ALSO personal to. People who would, and will mourn its absence.
How many times have you joined an older fandom only to discover that some of its most popular works are gone? How many times have you routed through random blogs looking for scraps people hopefully reblogged? how many times have you used Wayback machine desperately praying that a fan fiction or a YouTube video will be there? How many times do you look up crunchy old vines or YouTube videos or anime AMV‘s? How many times do you remember old fanfic.net sex that impacted you in middle school, only to shake your head and go ‘probably no point even looking.’
i mourn the absence. No, people can’t and shouldn’t have their agency over what they post revoked, but they should be conscious of that weight. If you’re reading this and getting extremely annoyed, and you’re not in the pink text above,,,, good.
I honestly do hope it gets under your skin. I hope it sits with you. I hope you feel it every time you hit that button, and whether or not you do hit that button—if you hesitate, if you remember this, even spitefully, I’ve done my job. I am howling into the void. And I may not want an answer, but I do want my anguish to be heard and remembered. Because it isn’t me just being melodramatic.
I know I sound that way writing so much, but if my favorite writing YouTuber can drop trow this week and go, "yeah, sorry, all my video essays from less than a year ago that you listen to in the car all the time? I'm "rebranding" my content so i deleted them. besides, my personal views don't really agree align with the analyses i did, or the techniques i taught in them anyway. Sorry if some of the literal tens of thousands of you used them, but I don't want to feel shackled to having youtuber "classics" tied to me”
….then i guess I'm just going to have to sound dramatic! That fucking sucks! Hours of work and knowledge gone! This was a new channel too. It’s very likely there’s no archive of any kind, because who would think someone who worked hard enough to write, record, and edit hour-long videos, would just turn around and nuke it all? I definitely didn’t see it coming, but I did just start a new screenwriting class a few weeks ago, so I’ll tell you at least one person is REALLY missing those fucking videos right now. Because a lot of them were about specifically screenwriting, which I know jack shit about. and that specific person’s pace, editing, and style of breaking down information was the best suited style I found that I could focus on and absorb. There’s no replacement for that. No alternative for his individual perspective. his jokes. his opinions.
No, they may not resonate with him now, but in this decision, he’s put up a big middle finger to everyone who might have. And he has like 100k subscribers! Those are confirmed supporters! Imagine how many silent and untethered observers are feeling this loss right now. Imagine how many will not have it in the future.
If he never posted them at all, we wouldn’t know we had it. It wouldn’t be a loss. But we did. We did have it. Until he decided that no, we didn’t, because he just happens to be the one out of millions of individuals holding the button to burn it in a hundredth of a second.
His personal work, the attachment I had to it, and the ways that it helped me are now just ripped away. I am one person out of millions, literal MILLIONS of people who saw and liked this content before it vanished. The soul has been ripped, the access severed, and by CJ’s (and my) definition, the art is functionally dead. Not for the YouTuber or anyone else lucky enough to save a link or download, but everyone else. From this point until the end of time, even if people even two weeks from now don’t know it. Even if someone who stumbles upon his channel today, doesn’t know it.
We only mourn the concept of Alexandria because we had some kind of scope for what was inside. Yes, maybe you got self-conscious and deleted your 12 year old deviant art account. Do you know who else is doing that?? THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of other twenty somethings who ALSO feel self-conscious about their old socials. Art. Fanfic. One direction fan videos. anything.
Suddenly, an unquantifiable amount of information from your age group—an entire age group in 2012, is. gone. And we will NEVER know what’s been erased from that history. We will NEVER know what could have been significant to us ten years from now. Twenty years from now. A hundred years. A thousand.
You could have deleted a fanfic that would have been someone else’s new go-to panic attack distraction tomorrow. You could have deleted a video someone used to laugh at with their friend who died yesterday. When you delete something, you risk tearing a hole in unknowable personal histories.
The Internet isn’t just a big library of Alexandria. It’s a library containing libraries. And those libraries have their own libraries in those libraries have their own as well. libraries inside libraries, inside libraries, ad infinitum. To conceive the amount of destroyed history on the Internet is crushing.
And I just can’t help but I ask myself how in gods name people can choose to contribute to that, instead of reposting everything to trash heap alts titled “hall of shame” or some shit.
You can offload to alts. Put up disclaimers. Make password locked blogs, or dropboxes, or anonymous imgur dumps. Anonymous reuploads. Orphan fics. Make a playlist or linktree of unlisted videos. Cut off the watermarks. Delete all references to it on your main. Make a dedicated unlisted playlist. make a google drive. Make new portfolio sites. Delete any questions you get about it. Change pen names. Pretend it never existed.
Give a heads up.
Something.
But don’t. kill. the media.
The knowledge that our stuff is going to forever be tied to us is a cross we have to bear, but the responsibility that comes with putting it out there in the first place, can’t be ignored.
Anyway. I'm not trying to start conflict. This is not a bash on anyone, nor a call for witch hunts. Or anon hate, or blocks and unfollows or anything of that nature. I'm not wishing ramifications or hate of any kind on anyone who does wants to do any of this.
I'm also not guilt tripping— I am not saying that you should feel bad. I AM saying why it makes me feel bad. That’s not guilting, it’s a dialogue. One I personally feel is long overdue.
It's me yelling into the void: please consider the real people on the other side of the screen before you hit that button. Realize and know that whatever you're about to erase from history could be the most important thing in the world to someone.
Art is an experience. It's why we revisit it. If art and history simply lived in the matter and code of media, we would only need to look at it once. We wouldn’t put things in museums. We wouldn’t build libraries. We wouldn’t look up vine compilations.
If you're able, consider (and I do mean consider, this is not a call to action) not destroying that. And don’t shrug it off as some pretentious asshole venting on Tumblr. You only need to look in the notes and tags to see that it isn’t just me. it’s never just me, or you, or the pixels.
And even if you do shrug it off, then at least recognize that what you make matters. Whatever you think about it, if it’s out there, that's not your discretion anymore. If a tree falls in the woods and even one person is around to see it, it fucking mattered. Because it happened. Don’t mulch your tree rings if you don’t have to. Because if enough people do it, a whole forest is gone. Media is history, no matter whether you think it’s worth putting in a museum, or only has 30 notes.
Thousands of years ago, a child named onfim doodled on his homework. They’re crude, and everyone has the wrong amount of fingers, and they’re also priceless archaeological artifacts recognizable throughout the world.
the only thing separating Onfim’s doodles and your MS paint Pokémon doodles is time. The only thing separating your old MS paint Pokémon doodles from being a priceless artifacts, thousands of years in the future is time. Your creations are already priceless artifacts. No matter what you do, don't ever, ever deny that. It isn’t blowing up your own ass, it’s artistic and anthropological fact.
The mundane and the supposedly unworthy are often the first things lost to time, and that’s why they’re so precious. That’s why artists who were before their time are scorned first only to be celebrated later. Do you think they knew that was going to happen?? What if they nuked it? Many probably did! But now that’s happening exponentially and instantaneously everywhere, WITHOUT the artist having to destroy their only copy—which makes it way easier and more dismissable.
Sometimes, If you’re revolutionary enough, people will make an effort to preserve your work, but recognized and thoroughly recorded work is rare compared to unrecognized and thoroughly recorded work.
Sometimes something is beloved enough that it would be impossible for it not to go down in history, but even then it isnt a guarantee, and it’s rare. But if van Gogh burned all of his paintings in a fit of despair before his death, we would have no van Gogh. Because he wasn’t respected as an artist in his time, but that wasn’t what defined the worth of his art. The people after him did, because his art was still there for them.
If you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it. If you belittle your art, you belittle the very real relationships and emotions and revisitations people have with the media. You defy the inherent worth and weight of a creation. you created. That's effort. It's passion. No matter how flippant or unskilled or worthless you think it is, it matters. Because at the end of the day, you could have chosen to make nothing at all, and you didn't.
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snapdragons mean i'm sorry
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summary: you own a flower shop down the street from Wade and Althea, and now Logan's apartment. You and Logan had grown quite close, until you hear him complaining about you through the door. A week later, he shows up at the shop, groveling wc: 2.0 k a/n: sorry about the delay with this one, things have been a bit crazy! I really enjoyed writing for worst!Logan, I think I'm considering a part two for this as well. This fic is based on this request! warnings: lots of hurt and comfort, reader uses she/her pronouns, confused and groveling Logan, Wade being a meddler, slight spoilers for the end of Deadpool and Wolverine
You were two seconds away from chucking the bouquet that you were working on clear across the room. Instead, you gently set the flowers down on your workbench and tightened your pony tail. Heaving a sigh, you snatched the broom out of it’s place leaning up against the doorway and made you way to the front of store. 
Usually, being surrounded by all of your flowers and specially curated knickknacks brought you a sense of peace. But so far today you’d broken two vases and stabbed your thumb on rose thorns maybe more than you’d ever done in your entire life. 
Being friends with a superhero (singular) was much less stressful than you’d thought it would be. Wade would stop in to the shop around once a week to buy flowers for Vanessa, always with a quick joke or two before being on his way. It wasn’t until he’d saved you from an attempted mugging a few years back that you’d really become close. And you’d been there for a lot. Through his break up with Vanessa, when he was nonstop moaning about how deeply he hated selling lightly used cars, and whenever he needed a second opinion about a new hair system he was perched on a second stool that now had permanent residence behind the counter, right next to yours. 
Being friends with superheroes (plural) was bringing a new host of issues. Namely, an accelerated heart rate and trouble forming your words in front of Wade’s new roommate. Wade had warned you that his new acquisition was prickly when he’d stopped over to invite you to the Welcome Home Pizza Party Palooza, according to the hand drawn invitation he’d proudly presented you. He’d lured you in with promises of meeting his new dog before dropping the bomb that there was an introduction to his roommate included in the package deal. You’d already agreed, and Wade was too busy rambling about how you were being moved up to from side character status for you to intercede with a made up reason you could no longer attend. 
You historically didn’t do well with meeting new people, and someone who was likely to snap at you at some point throughout the evening, by Wade’s estimations, was an even bigger hurdle. Even though you had worked yourself up enough to feel slightly sick to your stomach, you’d arrived at the party, armed with flowers for the new roommate and a mini bouquet of dog treats for Mary Puppins. Wade and Al’s apartment was full of familiar faces when you’d arrived. You were caught up in a conversation with Peter and Yukio for a few minutes before they’d asked about the flowers all but forgotten in your hands. You admitted they were a welcome home present, and Peter kindly pointed out where Logan was standing across the room. You’d thanked him, and made your way across the room. 
When you reached him in the kitchen, you stood quietly behind him, working up the courage to make your presence known. Ultimately, it was unnecessary, because he quickly turned around and greeted you with a crinkly-eyed smile that made your heart flutter against your better judgement. You’d shyly handed over the flowers, stuttering through the explanation of owning the shop down the street and apologizing preemptively if he didn’t like them, expecting a strong rebuttal. He certainly looked like the type of man to rebuff the offer of flowers in fear of appearing unmanly or some other nonsense. Instead, he took the flowers from you gently, thanking you. He turned away, searching through the cabinets before pulling out a novelty beer stein decorated with My Little Pony characters with a huff. Logan made quick work of depositing the bouquet in the beer stein, but he frowned at his work, clearly unhappy with the vase options. “So you’re the florist that he’s obsessed with.” 
You smiled to yourself, glad to hear that Wade wasn’t only kind to your face. “Are you kidding me?” Speak of the devil. Wade slung an arm around your shoulders, depositing your typical drink of choice in your hand. “More like worship the ground you walk on. I may be Marvel Jesus but I’m your disciple. The things she can do with a chrysanthemum.” He moaned in a way you had never heard someone while talking about a flower, of all things.
Logan shook his head, but before either of you could respond, Wade noticed Vanessa coming through the door and was at her side in an instant. You’d stood with him in the kitchen for a few moments, silent but comfortable. It wasn’t long before Althea had called everyone to the table, where you took your usual seat next to Althea and Vanessa. The evening had been comfortable and you couldn’t help but notice how naturally Logan and his daughter Laura fit into your strange little family. 
The next day, you’d stopped by their apartment armed with another bouquet, this one beautifully arranged in one of your favorite vases you kept in stock. You couldn’t shake the image of how disappointed Logan had looked with his options the previous night. Al had ushered you inside quickly, letting you know that the rest of the roommates had left her in the name of picking up some necessities for Logan. You’d dropped the vase on the kitchen counter, ruffled Mary Puppins’ hair and saw yourself out. 
Logan had come by to thank you at the store, startling you where you were working in the back. You’d fumbled one of your vases, sending it crashing to the ground. Logan was quick to usher you onto a stool, locating a broom and making quick work of the glass. You’d insisted you could take care of it, but he’d shot your down insisting that he would heal right up if he managed to cut himself and he didn’t feel like a trip to the ER. It should have stung, but there was a lightness to his voice and a twinkle in his eyes that instead had you fighting down the hear rising to your cheeks. 
After a few weeks, it was routine for you to stop by a couple nights a week after work, armed with a fresh set of flowers for the vase and some take out. Logan very well could have taken some home with him, as often as he was stopping by, but somehow you’d always get to talking and forget to bundle some up for him. He was immensely helpful around the shop, able to reach things on high shelves and move heavy pallets you would get in much more easily than you were able to. Wade’s stool had quickly become Logan’s but you didn’t much mind. 
Your hand had settled on the doorknob to their apartment, when two familiar voices faded in through the closed door. It was instinct to pause, you hand’t really meant to snoop. But the words hurt all the same. “I really am fond of her, but she could really stand to let up on how often she’s hanging around me.” Your heart started to hammer, frozen in the hallway. 
“I hear you peanut,” Wade was quick to respond. “Cling-ville USA, population her, amiright?” 
“Fuck off, you’ve been obsessed with her as long as I’ve known you.” Your heart sunk. Isn’t that what Logan had said, the first night you met? Wade was obsessed with you? As quietly as you could, you dropped your hand from the doorknob and backed away down the hall, hoping that their conversation was loud enough to drown out the sound of your retreating footsteps. You’d retreated down the hallway, quickly shooting Wade a text that you weren’t feeling well and wouldn’t be able to make it. 
You hadn’t seen them since. You knew it shouldn’t have mattered, but it stung. You’d moved their stool into the far back corner of the shop because as silly as it sounded, it made you sad to look at him. Thankfully, there had been a steady stream of customers to keep you busy for a while. But now, you were dead and your thoughts were drifting when the bell on the front door rang. You sent a silent thank you to the universe and rushed out to the front of the store. But the customer waiting for you was the only one you were reluctant to see. 
You hated to admit it, but the image of Logan standing in the middle of your showroom, shoulders slumped and one of the most regretful looks you’d ever seen on anyone was almost enough for you to forgive him on sight. Close but no cigar, one could say.   
“Hey, sweetheart” he said sheepishly, hands shoved into this pockets. 
If this is how he was going to play it, so be it. “Hey, Lo. Where’ve you been?”
“Laura needed some help at the mansion, and they roped us into a mission. Meant to call but,” he shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. “Got a bit busy.” You nodded, doing your best to remember that you were mad at him. Stopped by for some flowers, if you have a minute.”
You nodded curtly, shocked that he wasn’t bringing up the obvious tension. He wasn’t one to beat around the bush. “What kind are you looking for?” 
“Eh, whatever you think says ‘Sorry, I fucked up’ the best” he shrugged, making his way behind the counter. 
“Who else did you piss off?” You asked, arranging a few more pieces of greenery into the bouquet he had requested. Even if you were frustrated and moody, you couldn’t bring yourself to make something you weren’t proud of. 
“Where’s my seat sweetheart?” He asked, before taking a pause. “What do you mean who else?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. 
“What do you mean ‘where’s my seat’?” You mocked, doing a poor imitation of his gruff voice. 
“Okay, you’ve gotta catch me up here, sweetheart because I clearly missed something.” 
“Wouldn’t wanna cling on too hard, are you sure you want me to do that?” You snarked, dropping the bouquet on the table and storming over to him, poking your finger into his chest. “I heard the both of you complaining about me last week.” 
Logan’s hand wrapped around yours, drawing it closer to his chest. “I was coming in here to apologize for being gone for a week. But I’m happy to double the order to make up for the confusion. If my math is right, bub, you overheard me complaining about that fucking dog insisting on sleeping on my bed. Even after I told Wade to keep her out of my room.” 
“You love her.” 
“Yeah, you know me too well sweetheart.” 
You smiled up at him, soaking in the warmth of having him this close, when something clicks in your head. “Are you telling me that you waltzed in here and asked me to make my own apology flowers?” If you hadn’t already decided he was off the hook, the way his mouth turned down into a little pout would have sealed the deal. 
He hesitates for a few moments, eyes glancing around the shop seemingly in search of an answer. “Didn’t want to give the business to someone else.” He shrugged, bashfully.  
Against your better judgement, a few giggles slipped past your lips, which had been firmly pressed together. A few more, and then you were laughing so hard you were having trouble breathing. You leaned your head against his chest, taking measured deep breaths to curve the laughter “I can’t believe this,” you gasped, wiping a few tears away that had spilled onto your cheeks.  You grinned up at him through the tears, taking in the way his eyes warmed when he smiled. 
“Could have been worse,” he shrugged, mischief making his eyes sparkle. “Could have gone with Wade’s suggestion.”
“I have to know.” 
He slipped both his arms around you, pulling you in close. “Wanted me to jump out of a cake.” 
You snuggled in close, leaning your head on his chest. “I would like to see it.” 
“Then we’ll have to see what we can do about that.” 
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I hate that people like to think that being sometimes smart means that they can’t be generally stupid, but I hate that people think that being generally stupid means that there couldn’t be smart thoughts more.
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𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋
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summary: having your period is already stressful enough and being in the devildom doesn't make it any better; luckily, these demons are here to help
pairings: mammon :: belphegor :: barbatos x reader
warnings: period-having reader (gn pronouns), blood, mild cramps
a/n: this is literally so self-indulgent, as everything i write is, but whenever i'm on my period thinking of scenarios like this helps me sit through cramps, so i thought i'd share the nonesense with you ♡
obey me masterlist || similar writing: twisted pains [twst]
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𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍
“Human! Open ya damn door!”
“No, please let me die in peace,” you whined from underneath your blankets as the banging against your door continued.
“If ya don’t let me in right now, I’ll kick it down, ya hear me?!” You could practically see Mammon pacing a ridge into the floor in front of your room, so you trudged over there and unlocked it, the demon almost colliding with you from how quickly he opened the door. His snow-white hair was sticking up from his head as if he’d run his hands through it without noticing. “What’s the big deal makin’ me wait so damn long, huh?”
“I told you I’m trying to pass away from this life,” you deadpanned, trudging back to your bed, groaning as another cramp twisted your lower stomach. “First, I have to deal with this shit in a house full of male demons who are absolutely not prepared to handle a human exchange student on their period. And second-“
You paused, for both dramatic flair and to take a calming breath. Then, you turned around and gave Mammon a saccharine smile dipping pure venom.
“I find out that apparently the entire Devildom can smell that I’m on my period if I step a foot out the bloody door.”
“Listen, I’m sorry.” Mammon held up his hands to plead his innocence. “I didn’t mean ta be so rude about it. But in my defence, I didn’t know it’s a normal thing for humans to just start bleedin’. I thought ya were dyin’!”
You painfully remembered how you had dragged yourself out of your room this morning, after luckily finding some hygiene products in the bag you had with you when you were whisked away to the Devildom unannounced (thank the sky guy you threw them into literally every bag and purse you owned). Already in a bad mood, you’d plopped down into your designated seat, ready to fight for your breakfast, only to feel six pairs of eyes on you.
“What?” You had asked, when nobody passed you the bread basket.
That had been when Mammon, eyes as wide as the coaster under your mug, almost jump-scared you into dropping your butter knife. 
“WHY ARE YA BLEEDIN’?!” He’d already pulled you from your chair and started inspecting you for any signs of injuries, tugging your arms up and inspecting your head. “Are ya hurt anywhere?”
“Mammon, I’m fine. You can let go of me now.” You almost had to wrestle your arm back from him, heat already creeping up your cheeks. 
“Clearly yer not!”
Exhaling deeply you said through gritted teeth “I’m on my period, if you have to know.”
The demons around the table had exchanged glances, but sadly only three of them had held a spark of understanding, those being Satan, Levi and Asmodeus. Mammon and Beel on the other hand seemed more lost (well, Beel actually had his eyes on his food but that was beside the point) and Lucifer’s face had been unreadable.
“Woah, periods are an actual thing?” Levi had asked incredulously, his voice somewhere between shock and awe. “I thought anime made those up for the sake of the plot.”
“I see,” Satan had given you hope. “I‘ve read about those before in some books on human anatomy but I didn’t think it was a big deal, seeing as it wasn’t talked about much.”
“Satan, pray tell, from when were those books?” 
“The 18th century perhaps?” He shrugged, tilting his head.
“Well, that explains a lot,” you had sighed, whereas Asmo had just dropped his head in his hands.
“I’m sorry about them, hon. But demons don’t experience periods, so I doubt any of them will be much help,” he had squeezed your hand sympathetically.
Lucifer had cleared his throat then. “Well, it appears that we have some catching up to do, now that we are hosting a human exchange student. Given your…predicament, you are allowed to stay home from RAD as long as this affects you.”
You had sighed a breath of relief.
“In exchange, however,” Lucifer had continued, making you dread the next words to leave his mouth, “it will fall to you that my brothers are properly educated on how to handle this side of humanity.”
So, that afternoon, you had found yourself in the common room, holding a presentation on the menstrual cycle in front of the brothers… and the future demon king himself. Yes, of course, Diavolo had gotten wind of your situation and simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity to learn more about humans. At least, him being in the know meant you’d never have to worry about getting period products imported to the Devildom ever again.
Subsequently, you had locked yourself in your room, curled up under a blanket as you scrolled through Devilgram trying to forget this whole ordeal happened. A good hour later, Mammon had started pounding against your door like a madman.
With him standing in your room now, you could see the bag he was holding as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you patted the spot next to you.
“I’ll forgive you. It would have been more embarrassing if I went to RAD without knowing,” you said placatingly. “Anyways, what’s that?”
“Oh, it’s nothin’…” Mammon trailed off, looking anywhere but you as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just… Ya were sayin’ this stuff could help and we didn’t have any, so I went and got some for ya… Only because Lucifer would string me from the ceiling if ya went and complained! That’s all!”
Taking the plastic bag from him, you peered inside to see various types of human world painkillers, a hot water bottle and chocolates. Despite what the demon had just said, you noted that the chocolate brand he bought was the one you liked best, something you had only dropped in a passing sentence when you talked to Asmo about a new trending dessert.
“Thank you, Mammon,” you smiled genuinely. “That actually is really helpful.”
“Really?” He managed to suppress his grin before it curled further than the corner of his lips before clearing his throat and hiding half his face behind his hand. “I mean, I’m only doin’ ma job, ya know? So Lucifer gives me back Goldie!”
“Sure you are,” you laughed, the first time since your day started.  “Does your job also involve staying with me and watching a movie?”
“Yeah!” This time he was too late to hide his excitement, then he caught himself and tried again, calmer this time. “I uh- I could fit ya in my super busy schedule. Gotta make sure ya don’t die after all, huh?”
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𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑
What a horrible way to start your day.
Well, under other circumstances, it would’ve been near perfect. Waking up snuggled comfortably in your boyfriend’s tight hold as he lightly snored into the crook of your neck, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. 
If it wasn’t for the unpleasant twisting of your lower stomach you might have turned around and slept the morning away. Still slightly groggy, you sat up in bed, hoping dearly it was just a fleeting stomach ache or hunger and not your period, despite the clear symptoms. 
All hope was shattered however, when you shifted and you knew instantly that you could kiss this pair of underwear goodbye. With some effort, you wriggled out of Belphie’s vice grip, looking back at the sleepy demon as he groaned in protest only to see a large blood stain where you’d just lain. At your shocked gasp echoing around the attic, you watched his brows knit together and his nose wriggle, his forehead creasing as if he was deep in thought. Then, he blinked his eyes open.
“What’s—“ he cut himself off with a yawn, “What’s wrong? Are you alright? What are you doing over there?”
“Belphie… I’m so sorry,” you nearly sobbed, guilt bubbling up in you. In combination with your hormones being all over the place and your still sleep-addled mind, tears were threatening to form along your waterline.
In a heartbeat, the Avatar of Sloth was up and next to you, pulling you into a hug and bringing your head to rest against his shoulder, one hand smoothing over your hair, the other holding you close by the waist. You’d never seen him move this fast this early in the morning.
“Hey, hey, what’s up?” He gently prodded, voice still raspy with sleep but soft nonetheless. “Please talk to me, starlight.”
“It’s— Your sheets, I’m so sorry… I didn’t know…” You buried your face deeper in the fabric draping over his chest as you felt him turn his head towards the bed. Then, a beat of silence spanned across the attic.
“That’s what you’re fussing about?”
“Yeah, I mean—“ Collecting your thoughts, you began again. “It’s gross and a pain to clean. I really should’ve known that—“
“Hey, look at me.” Tilting your face towards his, your eyes met amethyst ones as you followed the guidance of his fingers underneath your chin. “It’s not gross, you hear me? No part of you could ever be.”
“But the blood-“
“I’m a demon, might I remind you. You’d think I can handle a little blood.” There was a caring seriousness in his gaze that made you weak in the knees, the love and adoration you found swirling within almost making you cry for a whole other reason. “You didn’t actually think I’d be mad at you about something so natural, did you?”
“It’s generally a bit of a taboo topic and conversations about it can be quite stigmatised, so…,” you shrugged.
“You’re telling me half the population go through this every month and the topic is hushed up anyway? You’re already stressed enough and people give you crap for something like this?” You nodded at his incredulous tone. “Well that’s just stupid.”
For a moment, Belphie just held you, his fingers tracing random shapes into your hip. Then, he pulled you towards a dresser in the corner of the room, never letting go of you completely. 
With how much time you had started spending in the attic it was a somewhat natural course of nature that your clothes would gradually end up moving here as well. Pulling out a fresh pair of underwear and a pair of black sweatpants, you didn’t have time to reach for a sweater before a soft pile of fabric was already pushed into your hands. Upon closer inspection, you identified it to be one of Belphie’s hoodies.
“I know you like wearing them,” he merely shrugged off your raised eyebrow. “Now go and take your time washing up, but make sure to come back straight away when you’re done.”
Practically herding you out of the door, you almost had to snort at the irony of the Avatar of Sloth encouraging you to do something you might not have had the energy to otherwise. But you were incredibly thankful for it because when the shower’s warm water hit you, you noticed how much you needed this, feeling born anew after scrubbing your skin clean.
Climbing back up the stairs to the attic, you already felt a lot calmer than when you had woken up, swaddled in Belphie’s cloud-like hoodie (seriously, where did he find fabric like that?) and surrounded by a mixture of his scent and your body wash.
When you pushed open the attic door, you blinked at the new set of sheets Belphie was lounging on, the old ones nowhere to be seen. Even without you moving, the demon perked up at your presence, extending one arm to coax you back into bed.
“What are you still doing over there? Come here,” he said, voice already drowsy again. “There’s still some morning left to be slept away.”
Who were you to refuse? Sliding under the covers next to him, you turned and twisted into whatever pretzel position made you cramp the least before two strong arms wrapped around you. This was another perk of being with Belphie; if anyone could accommodate weird sleeping positions, it was him.
Warm hands found their way under his hoodie, his palms pressed flatly against your lower back where most of your pain was coming from, while the hips of his fingers slowly caressed the surrounding skin.
“Feeling better?” He mumbled into the crown of your head.
“Mhm, much better,” you breathed into the crook of his neck, sighing as his natural body heat slowly eased some of the constant pressure in both your lower stomach and back. “How did you know about the back pain though?”
“You always complain about it, especially on the first day,” he replied nonchalantly, as if it was the most natural thing to know. 
“How did I get so lucky,” you mused, your tone playful but just as genuine. “Makes me feel even worse about ruining your sheets.”
“Literally don’t worry about it, you do too much of that anyway. I left them with Asmo, he knows how to get just about any stain out of stuff.” You tried not to think about the specifics of where that expertise came from, so you rolled your eyes at the very typical behaviour of the youngest to dump his work on his brothers. Then you stiffened. Work. Chores. You were on grocery shopping duty today. “What’s the matter now?”
“I have to go out soon and get everything we need for dinner,” you sighed. Maybe you could convince someone to trade it with an indoor chore for the week.
Before you could reach for your D.D.D, the arms around you held you a little closer to the demon you were snuggled up against, one of his legs draping over your thigh, careful not to put too much pressure on you as he tangled your legs with his.
“Well that’s too bad,” Belphie mumbled into your hair, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “Looks like Lucifer has to find someone else for the job. Because you’ll be busy all day.”
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𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐒
Periods had the annoying habit of showing up whenever they pleased, which mostly meant whenever it was most inconvenient for you. Being well aware of that fact didn’t mean you were any more prepared for it to happen, though. 
So, as you were running errands around RAD with Barbatos, it suddenly felt like your insides were squeezed together and wrung out like a washcloth, making you stagger and pause to steady yourself again. When your companion turned to ask if you were alright, you assured him everything was fine, hoping it was just one bad cramp that would ebb away soon.
But over the course of the next fifteen minutes, it progressively got worse and you had trouble focusing on the task at hand, shifting uncomfortably in your seat as you sorted through student council documents. As you reached for a new stack of files, gloved hands came to rest over yours, preventing you from picking up more work.
“You should not overexert yourself, dear,” a soft voice spoke close to your ear. On other occasions, you would have welcomed the way his hands smoothed down your shoulders when it was just the two of you for once, but you couldn’t think about anything but the pain you were experiencing. “Without meaning to offend, you’re looking rather unwell. Allow me to take you to the Demon Lord’s Castle.”
“What about work?” You mumbled but didn’t resist as he pulled you to your feet, steadying you with a hand between your shoulder blades. “And Diavolo?”
“Do not worry about that. There’s no rush to complete these files and the Young Master has given the explicit order for me to take care of you,” Barbatos smiled as he led you out of RAD, careful to avoid as much unwanted attention as possible. “An order I was all too happy to comply with, might I add.”
“So you knew,” you sighed with a smile, not actually too surprised at the revelation. “I did think it was suspicious to have you all to myself the entire day. Do I even have to ask how you knew?”
“Well, as you have come to learn, demons are far more perceptive to certain reactions of the body, hormonal changes included,” he explained matter of factly. “Aside from that, however, I have also made it a priority to learn the rhythm of your body to best care for you.”
“You track my cycle? Despite being so busy already?” You turn your head to look at him in surprise.
“Of course. Not only are you an honoured exchange student, you are also someone who is immensely important to me,” he said as he held the castle door open for you, his verdant gaze full of adoration. “Naturally, I aim to ease your strains and alleviate some of the burden you carry.”
“You really don’t have to—“
“But I want to.” Taking your hand in his, the fabric of his gloves soft against your skin, he brushed your knuckles with a featherlight kiss. “Please allow me to take care of you, my love.”
“I guess I can’t say no when you ask like that,” you laughed sheepishly. Your body seemingly agreed with you as it sent another wave of cramps to make your knees buckle. 
“You must be exhausted,” Barbatos said, no doubt picking up on your unease immediately. “Let me draw you a warm bath to ease some of your tension.”
Said, done. Soon thereafter, you were sinking into a tub that probably cost more than a normal person’s house, the water the absolute perfect temperature to relax your muscles. You also noted how there were no strong scents present, only the hint of something floral and calming, but not overwhelmingly so.
After some time of soaking in the bath and with your permission, Barbatos stepped back into the bathroom. First, he wrapped you in the fluffiest black towel, carefully patting your skin dry so as to not irritate it. Then, he applied a moisturising lotion, gently kneading out any knots in your legs and shoulders with his skilled fingers before helping you into a new set of clothes which felt light as feathers against your skin. 
He also showed you where to find any sort of hygiene product you might need and, to nobody’s surprise, somebody had stocked the guest bathroom you used whenever you came over with every possible product there was.
In your guest room, Barbatos guided you over to the sofa and lounge chairs underneath one of the high windows where a tea set was already waiting for you on the table in the middle. 
“I took the liberty to prepare some tea and a few pastries while you were bathing. This blend has soothing qualities and is known to help with cramping. Given your usual choice of tea, I also think the aroma will be to your taste,” the demon explained and, as always, you were stunned by his level of attention to detail. 
As he poured it, you noticed, however, that there was only one cup on the table and instead of getting one for himself, Barbatos went to fetch a hot water bottle. 
Wrapping it in a cloth he warned you to be careful not to burn yourself before announcing he’d start preparations for dinner, letting you know he’d be making your favourite. But before he could turn to leave, you caught his wrist, a surprised expression flitting over his face for just a second.
“If it’s not too much trouble,” you started, holding his gaze, “would you join me for tea? It’s been a while since we sat down together.”
At your request his face smoothed over into a fond smile, the hand in your grasp coming up to brush over your cheekbone. 
“I suppose dinner can wait a little longer,” he said, clearly as happy as you to spend time with you. “Then again, even if it couldn’t, I’d find it hard to leave you. Especially when your wish and mine are so closely intertwined.”
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if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡
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girlbossagenda · 3 months
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HOW TO HAVE YOUR SUMMER REVENGE GLOW UP
Summer break it's here! A lot of us have grown out of shape due to all the stress caused from school, and the lack or time to exercise or live a more healthy lifestyle, are you scared to go to the beach because you feel like you don't have that beach body? Are you heart broken and just want to live your hot girl summer or perhaps you want to finally be confident your body and change your entire life? If so this is the maxi guide for you.
౨ৎHow to get started౨ৎ
I made this google doc where I explain things more in depth here you can find, how to glow up: physically, mentally and socially(friends, summer filings, popularity etc...) if you want to know how to archive your results, you can find my explanation in depth(also winter friendly)
Here -> THE SUMMER I TURNED PRETTY: HOW TO REVENGE GLOW UP
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Do you remember those girl on YouTube, IG and tumblr?The pretty ones that were living their best summer? Wanna be like them? Then think and plan a summer in the same way a girl with your dream summer would do!
୨୧Make a pre-summer status୨୧
We will use this to track what changed about out life during this summer, I know it might be stressful or embarassing at first, but you're going to be grateful knowing all the progress that you made
୨୧Work on your mindset୨୧
This is so important, read again point n°1, and then put yourself in the shows of the person that you want to become, for example:
-> you want to be a pretty popular girl? "Would the pretty popular girl say that her Summer is ruined and that she has no one to hangout with"? I don't think so.
౨ৎHOW TO GLOW UP PHYSICALLY౨ৎ
if you're interested just in the physical stuff this is the section for you(more in depth in the Google doc)
You need to understand that most of the time a summer glow up last up until the first week of school then it's gone, but you want it to last, right? Here's how:
୨୧Find a low effort beauty routine୨୧
During summer you have all the time to maintain a beauty regiment, but you also need to make it practical, for example you might keep your hair natural during summer, you need to simplify them -> extensions, braids, sew in, silk presses or clip in...
୨୧Change hair color୨୧
During summer you need to grab attention change hair color to blonde, red, or more funky colors like blue, pink etc...
୨୧Diet୨୧
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I know, it's hard, with all the ice cream around, but you can also try by drinking healthy smoothies(especially the green ones), opt also for a salad as a snack.
୨୧Skincare୨୧
You have to wear sunscreen and if you want to get a tan you NEED to put that after sun lotion and be consistent with your skincare
୨୧Grow your lashes + eyebrows୨୧
Always, this is a must, you finally have enough time, then start now, be consistent and in 3 months you're going to have the best result, I advise you to use castor oil in the night and in the day a lash growth serum.
୨୧Learn to do your make up୨୧
Optional but very useful, in those days that you're at home you can learn how to do your make up so you're going to comeback to school and slay even in your worst days, plus it's a cute hobby.
౨ৎHOW TO GET POPULAR DURING SUMMER౨ৎ
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If you don't have friends at school it would be nice to have them outside, plus having friends out makes you so much cooler! Are you ready to expand your social life?
୨୧Summer school/camp୨୧
A classic, you can meet so many people here, works best if you are between 11-16 yo, If you're 16+ you can try joing a camp and be an animator
୨୧Beach୨୧
Have you even heard of "the beach friend"? Where I'm from they are very common and popular, it usually starts early in childhood, but you can also make them at your age! You just need to approach the people that look like share the same interests as you, better if they are alone too!
୨୧Online୨୧
You can go on a forum site and actually ask in the chat if someone wants to make friends and exchange ig, snaps,discord etc...you might make long distance but strong friendships
୨୧Work୨୧
Now coworkers are not actually your friends, but you might get close to some, better if it's not a competitive environment, try to network between your coworkers, maybe some of them actually know people of your interest, if you can start working with friends!
୨୧Neighborhood events୨୧
Churches usually during summer do some activities for the youths you can try and enjoy them! Or go to a popular place or even host in your neighborhood!
౨ৎHOW TO HAVE A SUMMER FLING౨ৎ
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I'm not really into romance, but it might be different from some of y'all! If you want to flirt, get. In a relationship or just have some fun experimenting then keep reading!
Follow the beauty steps written before!
୨୧Go to parties or events(better if on the beach)୨୧
What a better place to find love if not on the beach? All you'll need to do it's to wear a cute bikini and have fun with your friends!
୨୧Work on your gaze୨୧
You know the phrase "love at first sight"? Let's turn it into "love at first gaze" you need to exercise on your facial expressions and your seductive gaze, grab a mirror and flirt with yourself!
୨୧Make time to hangout୨୧
You're not going to find love by staying at home! You need to get out and wander around the city! Go to all the places where people of your age go! Bring your friends along(if you can or be brave and go alone!)
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Phew, this guide was quite long! And there's so much more! Thank you for sticking with me and supporting my blog! Ilysm and I'm so grateful for all the people that read my posts, let's glow up together this summer!
xoxo gorgeous
-𝓐
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daenysx · 2 months
Note
hiiii I’m not sure if you take nsfw requests but I was thinking about if modern aemond’s gf was too stressed that it was taking longer for her to finish and she fakes her climax, how aemond would react? If you don’t do nsfw just maybe something similar where she is so stressed but won’t communicate it and his reaction when she hides it from him?
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soft!aemond is back!! i mean kind of lol. i really hope you like this, i'm taking nsfw requests if you have any, thank you for requesting! <333 (title is from a lana del rey song, the pics aren't mine i got them from pinterest)
wc: 2.9k
modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, smut ♡ (also fluff, tiny tiny bit of angst?)
burning desire
aemond is in a good mood this evening.
the summer rain hits the window, you kiss your boyfriend to the sound of rain. aemond's body is a nice weight against your body. he kisses you calmly, long fingers rub the soft skin of your waist.
your head is full of things these days. you try to stop overthinking, you're unable to sleep at nights, mindlessly scrolling your phone for hours just because you can't solve any problems. there's not much to solve, not really, you only have to wait to settle down with everything that keeps your mind busy. it's not so easy, though, you're impatient, sometimes eager to doubt yourself and every little decision you made. the stress weighs down on you. you focus on aemond's lips instead.
he's been out of town for the past week. now, he's on your bed with you laying under him. he doesn't say how much he missed you but the kisses are the proof of it. he makes little sounds, doesn't stop until you are desperate for breathing. he looks at you through a hazy eye, his pretty lips swollen and pinkish.
"i missed you." you mumble. "it's hard to deal with things without you."
aemond looks at you with an unreadable expression. you think he likes what you say, he enjoys how much you want him with you. he smiles slyly, fucking attractive, he's gonna test all your patience.
he holds the back of your neck without saying anything, fingers curled in your hair to pull your head back. your entire neck is exposed, you moan when he presses his lips on your pulse point. he gives you a big kiss, the kind of kiss you could lose your mind over. he doesn't leave a mark but it's still nice. his lips draw a line on your collarbone.
"i missed you, too." he says, quietly. "pretty girl."
his fingers play with the waistband of your shorts. the sound of thunderstorm is louder when you're both quiet. aemond pushes your tank top to your breasts, he kisses your belly. you push yourself against his mouth, feeling him loving on you is so nice. he plays with you until you arch your back, you look at him with widened eyes.
"please." you say. he kisses your hipbone.
"gotta tell me what you want." he says. "you know you won't get it otherwise."
his devilish smirk makes your thighs clench. you take a deep breath, your mind feels like it's full of empty bubbles. his touch is cool against your bare skin, he rubs the back of your thighs with his huge hands.
"i'm waiting." he says, gets on his knees on bed. "tell me."
you lift your hips to show what you want. "can you take it off?" you ask. you take your tank top off without asking him. his eye shines when he sees your bare chest.
"of course." he tells you, his fingers move on your shorts. "such a nice girl."
you get more and more impatient with each second. aemond takes off his shirt, your hands touch all the way on his chest to his happy trail. his hipbones are sharp against the fabric of his pants, your breathing quickens to the image of his defined muscles. you can see the outline of his half hard cock, aemond tilts his head back and groans when you touch him through his pants.
"wait." he says. "i'm not gonna last if you keep touching me like that."
you just squeeze him gently one last time. "you didn't even take your clothes off." you say cheekily. "i wanna touch you without them." you whisper.
aemond smiles. it's a perfect smile, his lips curved because of your obvious desire. he sees how hard your nipples get with chilly air of the room, your panties getting wetter as you touch him, your eyes have the look of want and something different in them. he is quick to get rid of his clothes as you wish. you don't move until he gets back on top of you, only the thin fabric of your panties separates you from his cock.
he kisses you for a good minute. you cup his cheeks, happy to hide from the world with his long hair falling around your face. he presses himself to your center, it feels different than it used to. you don't know the reason, maybe you missed him too much, maybe your body tries to remember how his touch affects you. he's more patient than you, even though it's clear how much he needs to release.
"aemond." you mumble, wrapping your legs around his waist at the same time.
"hmm?" he sucks your jawline softly. he's so pretty, you think you'll lose your mind.
"i feel like-" you start, unable to finish any thought. your mind is too full these days. "can you please do something?"
you press yourself harder against him with the last piece of strength you could find. aemond pushes your panties aside. your cunt glints with the wetness but he still wants to prepare you. "it's okay." he reassures you. your eyes are closed, like you're trying to focus. "you just gotta be patient for me, okay?"
you nod. aemond thinks you might be the sweetest thing in his world. he pushes a finger inside you gently with his thumb on your clit. you moan silently, your body needs to relieve the tension, it keeps you awake every night. aemond moves his finger slowly, getting as many sounds from you as he can to guide himself. you part your legs for him, he settles down.
you feel like you're lost in the feelings he gives you. it's weird for a second then it's not. he pushes a second finger in, the stretch is tight but he likes it very much when you clench around him. "aemond, hmm-" you make incoherent sounds. you hold his face to kiss him as his fingers work inside you.
"do you feel good?" he asks. "is it good, baby?"
fuck, you love it so much when he calls you baby. you nod, saying yes three times. his touch is fire, you don't escape. he is hard against your leg, so hard, so bold. you moan again, your brain goes through a haze.
aemond keeps fingering you, his thumb rubs your clit with circles. the touch is nice to feel, you tilt your head back when it gets unbearable. he smiles wickedly as you keep saying his name. you look like you're lost in him.
"are you gonna come for me?" he asks with slow words against your ear. you think you will. "gonna be my nice girl and come around my fingers?"
his words feel wonderful and for a second you really believe you'll come against his hand. you try to open your eyes, aemond keeps moving his fingers quicker. you think you need to push yourself against him to make your body relax. it'll work. it always does.
but then it doesn't. your body doesn't relax, it's still too tense, too tight. you make a sound as if you're coming, aemond's eye is closed. you don't know why it happens, you feel like somethin's wrong. it's never happened before. your voice is too real to him, for a second he actually believes you orgasmed. you don't say anything.
it feels like you'll disappoint him if you say it was fake. you didn't do it on purpose and your body surprised even you, you faked an orgasm for the first time with aemond. you feel upset for a moment, his fingers get still inside you. you put your poor body on bed, quit arching your back. your mind places walls between you and your pleasure.
your boyfriend opens his eye to your tired face. he pulls his fingers, giving you a smile. he's still undeniably hard but he doesn't move, waiting for you to say something.
"what-" he begins, you reach for his hand. "are you okay?"
you think he'll be upset to find out you faked your pleasure. he definitely would understand if you tell him but you still feel tired. you feel hungry for his touch, hungry for a piece of relief. you don't know how to control your mind, how to ease off your worries and all the stress you've been carrying.
"i'm okay." you say. you squeeze his fingers.
"i don't believe it." he says, sitting on bed. "you don't look okay, did i- did i hurt you?"
you shake your head quickly. "no, of course not. i would tell you, you know it."
"then what?" he asks. he pushes his hair back. "you never look like this after you come, i'm sure of it. you should tell me if something's wrong."
you force yourself to sit next to him. your hand is still holding his. "nothing's wrong." you begin, trying to find words. "it's just-"
aemond holds your cheek in his hand. "tell me." he demands softly.
"i was sure, i was gonna finish." you say. it's the truth. "but i couldn't, not really. i mean it felt good but-"
"you didn't finish." he completes. "but you sounded like-"
"i didn't mean to fake it, i promise." you say. "i thought it would be okay, like it always is but- it didn't, but i'd never fake it with you."
aemond's face is strange, like he's embarrassed. he's thinking. is it his fault? did he fail to take care of you? did you need to fake it to finish early? he likes giving you pleasure, he likes giving what you ask of him. he knows you trust him enough to let him take care of you, and he likes it so much when you take care of him. the bond between you two is something precious, it upsets him to see you unsure and sad about it.
"i should've prepared you better." he says. "maybe you weren't ready. i was fast."
"no." you say, kissing his cheek to get closer. "it's probably because i'm too much in my head these days. it's nothing to do with you, baby, you know stress can have these kind of effects."
"what's bothering you?" aemond asks gently. "why are you so stressed?"
"i don't know." you answer honestly. "i really don't. it's too many things about the school and other stuff, and you weren't here. it's easy to get lost in problems when you're not around."
he pulls you to his lap. rain hits harder on windows. "you know- you know you can tell me anything. i'd never force you to have sex with me if you're not in the mood. if i'd known-"
"no!" you stop him. it's far from what happened and this time he gets in his head. "i wanted it so much. i still want it, aemond, i promise. i need you, i need to relax. i just don't know how to do it- how to get out of my head."
"do you still want it?" he asks, just to be sure. "do you want me to make you come?"
you nod, taking a breath to relax the tension on your shoulders. "please."
"i can talk you through it." he says, putting your body on bed under him. "if you can only focus on my voice and nothing else, i can help you relax."
"but what if i-"
"it's okay if you can't finish." he interrupts you. "don't go hard on yourself. you just gotta tell me when it does and doesn't feel good."
"okay." you say, desperate to feel his hands all over you again. it feels good to ask for his help.
"good." he says, with a deep voice. "i'll make you feel better." he promises.
your head goes back to let him kiss your neck, he kisses the same spots as he did minutes ago. you hold his hand, it doesn't take too much for him to get hard again. it's been a week since you last had sex. aemond doesn't like touching himself without you ever since you first made him come. it's addicting to feel your softness against his cock, he feels poorly when he tries to do it himself.
"i need it." you say, numbly. "please."
he holds your waist, kissing the top of your cunt softly. "trust me." he says. "don't worry."
he kisses your swollen clit. it aches with want, you want to have him so much, it hurts your head. he sucks to relieve a bit of tension. "yes." you whisper. "more, please."
he sucks for a nice minute. you part your legs, your wetness mixes with his spit. he's never been ashamed with his intentions but he feels bolder this time. pressing his cock to soft bed under him, he grunts against your cunt.
"i can't take it." you cry. "you need to do something, i feel like i'm losing my mind."
he kisses your belly. "sweetheart." he speaks softer than he ever does. "you're not losing your mind. you just need to be patient with yourself."
you feel a teardrop roll on your cheek out of pleasure. "okay." you say, pulling him back on his spot between your legs.
when he's sure you're wet enough, aemond strokes his cock. the tip of it is dark pink, so sensitive, so needy. he knows he'll feel good when he gets inside of you, he rubs himself nicely before placing himself properly against your hole.
"are you okay?" he asks against your ear. you nod, he relaxes. his back arching towards you gracefully, his cock finally getting what it wants as he pushes himself inside slowly.
you moan, tilting your head back. it's so sweet, you sound wet when he pushes a bit more. he moves his hips carefully, grunts softly when he can breathe against your chest.
"you feel so good, you know that?" he asks, almost begging. "i missed having you like this, all mine, all needy for me."
"i missed you, too." you cry out. the pleasure is blinding when he presses his fingers on your wet clit. "i missed you so much." you hug him, it's more intimate than it ever has been. rain sounds cover your little whispers, you kiss the skin beneath his ear.
"never gonna leave you again." he promises. he keeps moving, pushing himself fully inside. "never gonna leave you lost in your pretty head."
"please." you say. "please, baby, help."
you're too sweet on him, calling him baby when he's desperate to get you come. he feels himself getting closer to his peak but that's not his priority right now.
he hits your g-spot for the first time that evening and you moan loudly. he smiles, kissing your forehead. "relax." he says. "i got you."
"right there." you mumble. "so- so good."
he moves gracefully, hitting the same spot over and over again, his stamina helps him delaying his own climax. you're all spread out under him, he sucks one of your nipples when your chest gets heavy with deep breaths. he holds your hands on top of your head, fucking into you sweetly with hard motions.
"i can feel it." he says. "you're so close, right? so pretty, you should see yourself."
"close." you murmur. "i need it."
he keeps fucking you until you finally snap. your mind goes blank, it's all him. his scent overwhelmes you, surrounds you and there's nothing else. aemond targaryen is everywhere, he doesn't stop until the tightness disappears. arching your back for the last time, your wetness stains the sheets.
aemond can't keep himself any longer. "come for me." you beg. "please, come for me, i need to feel you."
who's he to deny your wishes? he comes hard, grunting, moaning your name. your thighs, your cunt, the sheets, all covered in white cum. he lets out a breath, shaken up by your cunt. "fuck." he whispers, putting his head on your chest. he's spent.
it takes a few minutes for you to get back to yourself. your fingers in his hair, his hands around you, his head on your chest. you stay like this until your mind feels like you again. you are exhausted, finally feel like you'll get a good night sleep.
"that felt pretty real to me." aemond teases when he lifts his head to see you.
"it was." you smile. "it felt so good."
aemond leaves the bed to get a clean towel from the bathroom. he comes back, cleans you up as good as he can. "help me, sweetheart." he says. "can you lift your hips?"
you do as he says, he leaves again. you feel good, your muscles spent for him, your head in that hazy space. you have a lovesick smile on your face when aemond comes back, wearing a clean pair of boxers.
"you'll get cold." he says, helping you wear one of his shirts and clean panties. "it's still raining."
"it's nice." you whisper. "can we sleep now?"
aemond kisses the side of your head. "yes. after you drink this."
he hands you a glass of water, you take three sips. aemond joins you under the covers, you wrap yourself around him instantly. he rubs your shoulder softly, you kiss his neck before burying yourself against him.
"thank you." you whisper. "for taking care of me."
"you think i could leave my girl alone when she needs me?" he says with a low voice. "i'm glad you never need to fake anything with me."
"i trust you." you say, finally falling asleep on him. three words aemond has barely heard before he met you. he thinks it's a nice weight to carry someone's trust. especially yours. you trust him with your body, with your mind. he kisses your head. your hand twitch against his waist in your sleep. he holds your hand through the night.
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retiredteabag · 14 days
Text
soft Toji dog-sitting for a generous!reader
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pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4 - pt. 5
synopsis: Toji was quite accustomed to objectifying himself for a check. And to be frank, far worse actions as well. Now he’s not sure what to do with himself after meeting the kind and generous owner of the dog he pet-sits for.
read along as Toji grows more comfortable around you despite his past.
〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰
Toji had stayed the night at many women's houses. At some point down the line, he started requesting they order him an Uber or something, but in the beginning, he was hardly at his own place. And for a brief period, when he was in a real desperate situation, he stayed with the women because he didn't have a place of his own.
That's why it's so strange to Toji, to feel apprehensive at staying the night in your home.
You won't even be there, what's it matter? He thought.
But then again, that might be why he's a bit uneasy about the whole thing. You were to be gone three days for a work event. And you had entrusted him with your entire place. He had showered and napped in your house, eaten your food and brought in the mail. He was comfortable to the point it felt like a second (much nicer) home. What he had never done, was stay the night. He certainly hadn't slept in your bed...
You had seemed overwhelmed and uneasy about the situation while walking him through everything. You had been on the opposite side of the kitchen island when you had said,
"I know this is so short notice, I'm terribly sorry, I wasn't even supposed to be on this trip, I asked not to go, but the other official called out sick." Your hands made grand and elaborate gestures and your dogs head wobbled as he followed your theatrical hands. "So now, I'm stuck, I have to go." You sounded upset.
"'S not a problem. So, what day does the trash go out, again?" He held back a grin as your shoulders drooped.
"Toji, you're my hero. Thank you. And Wednesday, don't worry if you forget to take it out though."
You had informed him that the dog would probably like it best if he stayed downstairs with him while you were away. Meaning-sleeping in the master bedroom. In your bedroom. On your bed.
Oh...kay...
He shrugged it off as you muttered some, "of course, I'll clean the sheets so don't worry about that..." And explained about the difficult relationship between the dog and the mailman. But he was too caught up in the fact that you were so trusting of him.
There didn't seem to be any uncomfortable air around you, other than your work-related stress around the trip, but you didn't seem to have a problem with this big-ass man spending a few days in at your place.
Toji had lots of appeal, and he had grown to know, the majority of it was sex appeal. And the fact that you clearly had no interest in that aspect of his abilities... made him feel odd. Any time he would throw a compliment at you, you would smile politely, and say something nice about him. Except it was always,
"You're so good at you're job!"
"I'm so glad I can trust you to look after my puppy!"
"I appreciate how efficient you are!"
it made his ears feel hot.
So did the smell of your bedsheets. In fact, your pillowcases had such an effect on him, on that first night you were gone, he found himself rummaging through your things to distract himself.
He meandered through your room, pulling books and sticky notes off dressers and walking through your closet nook. He intentionally did not open any drawers but when he stumbled upon a pair of pajamas lying on a bookcase ladder, he quickly turned around and went to examine the fascinating blanket collection at the foot of your bed.
Staying at your place meant he could sleep in if he wanted to, but that morning he got out of bed earlier than usual. He wasn't going to let his mind wander while lying in the same spot you lay.
He found himself pretending he actually lived in the space. Getting dressed. Feeding the dog. Making breakfast. All in the luxurious home he did not belong in. After some time he realized all of these fantasies included you. He imagined making coffee as you sat across the island, he imagined talking with you, as a normal person, over pancakes, or whatever the hell rich people ate.
Eventually, he had to shake the thoughts from his head as they began to seem too domestic.
One thing that carried throughout the days of your leave, was the photos. You had repeatedly told him to never hesitate to contact you, "And please feel free to send pictures!" So send pictures- he did.
On walks, in the back yard, while booping the dog's nose, after giving the beast a treat. He sent most to you but kept some for himself. You acted as if he was spoiling you with these images of your own canine, the hearted messages and polite, "This really made my day!" stuck with him, when in reality, you were the one spoiling him with how much you had given him for his stay.
Once upon a time, the money he had in his wallet would have already been gone. A real likelihood being that he took the cash and left the dog to fend for itself. Only naive people paid before the service was completed. But he was a different man now. Or so he told himself as he pondered how you must think of him.
You must think highly. To pay so much upfront. You must trust him.
That evening, after walking the dog one last time, he flipped his phone around in his hand while lying down, legs hanging off your mattress. It was late, he was wondering what you were doing and what he should spend his money on when he felt the vibrations of his phone.
He saw your contact pop up and was quick to open the messaging app. What he saw, however, confused him a great deal.
"I would like for you to not involve the police with this. If possible, do keep this event and its handlings between us, I would be unhappy if my colleagues heard about this."
He sprang up in the bed, his feet planted on the floor as he read and reread your message over and over. Confusion filled him, was this message intended for him? If so, had you discovered something about Toji's past? Or had you mistakenly sent the message to him?
What was this about?
He began to write back, only to stop. He wanted to see if you would alter your text, or confirm your mistake. When you didn't and he could not take it any longer. He responded.
"What event are we discussing?"
Immediately he saw that you had read his reply, and quickly he saw an ellipses appear. It faded quickly. He waited for what seemed like forever, unsure of what to say. "I would be unhappy if my colleagues heard about this" he knew you had discussed his working for you before with your co-workers before he distinctly told you he wasn't looking for more work.
Sick of all the waiting, he decided to call you. And as soon as the phone rang, it immediately went to voice mail.
Clearly, you had been in a hurry to avoid his call. Unsure of how to proceed, he texted again.
"???"
He had a sick feeling in his stomach as he rose to pace the bedroom. Finally a message arrived.
"Terribly sorry, that message was intded for my boss. I texted your ontact by mistake."
Toji tried to digest exactly what this meant. He saw the typos in your message and quickly wondered if you had ever been so careless before. He scrolled up to scan previous conversations but decided it was unimportant.
"I see" he began, he wanted to ask what was happening but he knew he wouldn't want anyone prying into him, especially if it involved anything incriminating. He tried to relax himself. Perhaps the comment had nothing to do with him, even so, he decided to call you again to clarify what had just happened.
In a harsh contrast to before, the phone barely had a chance to ring before you picked up. Toji knew he hadn't been thinking straight. But when he saw the call start he realized then that he hadn't planned what he was going to say. It wasn't but a moment later that he discovered that all of his unanswered questions were irrelevant.
He held the phone up to his ear and heard quick breaths from the other end of the call. What he assumed was a frantic exhale, came out more like a sob as he heard pained whimpers.
"Didn't mean to...sorry about tonight. It was my mistake." You were speaking very slowly, in a calculated sort of way. Still, your voice shook.
Toji was impossibly still as he listened to your voice. "What's going on, y/n?"
That night he would lay in bed, trying to sleep, and realize that this particular moment might have been the first time he used your name intentionally. In the moment, however, he was all too occupied to care. He wanted to come off as gentle and friendly, something he was completely unaccustomed to.
The line went quiet. There was a long pause before a throaty squeak came and a warbled, "...sorry" was heard. Just before the call ended.
Toji began to pace again, he called you once more before he decided that it might be best to not pressure you. He ran a hand down his face as he tried to write a text. But he had nothing to say, he was experiencing confusion and confusion alone.
Turns out, he didn't need to start the conversation again, in your never-ending kindness, you sent, "I'm sorry for all of this, this is a small matter with work at the moment and I did not mean to startle you. I see how it might have come off as concerning. I promise this will not effect you. I'm sorry. Please forget this occurred."
Relief flooded Toji faster than he could question it. So this didn't involve him. But what exactly was happening? He gave your message a thumbs up... but something was still stuck eating at his brain.
"Were you crying just now?" He sent.
He expected a long wait before you responded but, to his surprise you reply was prompt.
"Sorry about that."
And a moment later, "I didn't mean to involve you."
That feeling in his stomach sunk further as he stared at his phone. Unsure of what to say, your dog whimpered at his feet and Toji took a deep breath.
"I wasn't asking for you to apologize" he typed, trying to put his intentions into words. "Are you okay?"
He couldn't remember the last time he had asked someone about their wellbeing. So when you responded,
"Yes. I think so." He found himself slowly walking back to your bed. Staring at the floor as he sat on your comforter. He decided he wouldn't press.
He liked your message.
He laid in your bed.
And he tried to get the sound of your shaky breaths out of his mind.
〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰
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yanderemommabean · 5 months
Text
Hey Beans-
Hey beans, I have a bit of a hellish update. 
Yesterday was one of the worst days of my life. My grandma made a huge fight happen while I was on call with a friend, and things just escalated between me and her so badly I had to leave. When I came back home, my family was also on my ass about it all, despite knowing how she lies and how she instigates. 
She threatened to hit me, she threatened to kill Sammy, she hurled insult after insult at me and this all started because I didn't get up in time to do something she asked (Which was locking the door. I waited three seconds too long and she went off). 
When I came back after trying to let things cool down I was berated and told I had no right to be so “selfish” in the house, so on and so on, and the fight got so intense I had to just physically walk away, leaving the home and going two miles up the road because I did not feel safe. 
They made me so sick I began to pee blood again, as well as my sugar spiking and causing me to have palpitations. My heart cannot take this stress anymore, and neither can my mental health. I wish I could explain how bad the situation was. I had tears down my face, gasping for air, chest heaving and in pain, I felt like I was on the verge of passing out. 
I got in contact with some good friends of mine, who say they can help get me out of not only that home, but the entire state i'm in. But I need money to do so, for travel and gas and so on. As much as they can house me, they need me to pull my weight. 
I hate having to ask for help, I hate that I'm even in this situation, to the point I'm so sick I might have to be seen in the ER or sent to ICU. 
I need to come up with 700 dollars, and I'm willing to do some commissions, but with how sick I am I may take a bit to get back with you. I plan to leave by early June, if not the beginning of July, as that's when my friends are able to drive down and get me. 
Donations are greatly appreciated, even if you can only afford a single dollar, it’ll be more help than you know. 
If you’re wanting a commission, please don't send money and then ask, for your sake and mine. I’m incredibly overwhelmed, and I’ll do my best to get with you and explain rates. 
And if you’re willing to donate anything, here’s my Ko-fi link. 
Again, I can’t thank you enough for if you donate or even spread this post around, even well wishes mean the world to me because I know you beans care and want to help however you can.
This post was incredibly hard to make, I’m still all over the place and trying to figure everything out, so I apologize if this sounds like rambling and nonsense. There is a silver lining however, as I actually have a way out this time, and I pray I can get out before things can get worse.
-Mommabean 
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