#and I got so bored with it because I am bursting with new ideas

[tales-from-elysivm]

Jinx x f!reader and their first kiss, date, time, fight, all that couple stuff short little pieces of girlies being cute

★。／ get jinxed ＼。★

pairing: jinx x f!reader

fandom: arcane

word count: 1,612

tw: canon typical swearing/slang, some light spoiler warnings, and some suggestive/NSFW content! MDNI!

notes: this is a fic i am really excited for! Thank you again for the request anon! It was really fun to write, and i got through it pretty quickly to be perfectly honest because of that haha. Not proofread because im tired, and i have no shame :D enjoy!

! be sure to like and reblog if you enjoyed !

➼ first date with jinx 

You worked under Silco delivering shimmer across Zaun. Of course, you knew you shouldn’t have been doing this, it could get you arrested without question and you’d find yourself in Stillwater. But it paid well, and working so closely with the Eye of Zaun meant you didn’t have to worry as much about danger in Zaun. People saw you as a god-send, you gave them their weekly hit, if anything, the danger made them respect you. 

It was during this time that you met Jinx, while picking up your next delivery of shimmer from Silco’s warehouse. She had been there to speak with him privately about some arson issue that happened in Piltover. You had heard briefly about a lanky, blue-haired girl that would build bombs in the open space beneath the warehouse, but it was rare that anyone had ever seen her. But you managed. Somehow.

She intercepts you on your trade route, setting bombs off in the street just across from one of your clients. Jinx claims to recognise you from skulking around the warehouse. And at some point her chaotic energy and her strange inability to sit still seems to lull you into some sense of security. She’s just the perfect idea of unpredictability that you needed in your otherwise boring Zaunite lifestyle. (Though you were very lucky, all things considered.)

Your first date is a simple diner one. At first, you didn’t even know it was a date, just that she wanted to do something fun with you. She takes you in to meet her favourite bartender Chuck, who seems to almost slink beneath the counter when she drags you in. I feel like Jinx would give you a little monkey bomb as a gift for your first date - though it isn’t set, it’s pretty harmless. Other than that she bombards you with strange bursts of Jinx-aligned humour, and rambles at length about her various inventions, promising to take you down to her workshop to show you everything, while tightly gripping your fingers with chipped blue nails. 

And something in those bright, blue eyes makes you think that maybe this unpredictability could be quite fun. 

‘Don’t ya get bored frownin’ like that?’ jinx drums her nails on her glass, the clinking echoing throughout the empty bar. It was quite odd, you reckon, for it to be this quiet, but maybe its just jinx. 

In her own way of trying to get a smile out of you she starts spouting some random jokes. Tries telling her own funny stories. They all mostly revolve around bombs or explosive presentations she’s organised at piltover events. Mainly the absurdity of it all gets a laugh out of you, or you just smile at the giddy, child-like happiness you see in her eyes. Something that seems so pure (ignoring the fact that she’s probably an arsonist and on several watchlists)

‘There ya go!’ she cheers, grabbing onto your hands and interlacing your fingers. You think maybe you should paint your nails too to match her, see if it makes her happy. ‘You look so much prettier with a smile, trinket’

➼ first kiss with jinx 

It was after your third or fourth date that you ended up spending your free time in the warehouse. Jinx begins showing you all the new inventions she’s making, and all her designs for cartoony monkey bombs, you even help her draw out a few, including a cutesy little cat one that she isn’t as fond of, but she still makes one for you. 

Most of your relationship consists of Jinx making you little trinkets, like keychains, safe bombs, little bracelets and rings, and strange, misshapen sculptures made of leftover metal pieces. 

She loves you, in a very Jinx-way. She’s touchy but never very pushy. Long hugs, cuddles on a couch that she has balancing on a metal propellor in her warehouse, letting you braid her hair when she’s tired (please brush her hair, she will melt, and she needs some softness), holding hands in Zaun or dragging you to her private meetings with Silco. Whether you like it or not, you have the Eye of Zaun as an adopted father figure now. He isn’t quite sure what to think about it either. 

It is one of those cuddle sessions, after she is plagued by the voices that taunt her, that you end up just holding her face into your neck and sitting with her. These are the most important to her, like she can feel safe for once. 

‘Thank ya toots,’ she curls around you, straddling your lap and looking down on you with an innocent pout on her face. You don’t have to ask what she’s thanking you for, this has become a pretty regular occurrence. 

In her moment of calmed silence, you untie one of her braids and begin to brush through her long, blue locks with your fingers. She immediately melts into your hands, leaning forward to lean into your chest, gazing up at you. 

‘I feel like ya deserve somethin,’ she says absently, tapping her chin with one nail. Then a mischievous smile crosses her lips. ‘C’mere!’

She eagerly grabs your cheeks, barely giving you a second to register what’s happening before she smushes your faces together. Her lips are chapped, but her kiss is so enthusiastic that you have to take a moment before returning it. Your hand grips her hair in between tight fingers. 

The rest of your cuddle sesh is spent with soft, hurried kisses.

➼ first fight with jinx 

You don’t often fight with Jinx, you don’t like to yell at her or be upset, and watch her usually gleeful expression drop into that of a kicked puppy. But you were worried about her this time. 

She had gone up to piltover against Silco’s wishes again, most likely to stir up trouble, so he decided to send you after her to drag her back to Zaun. When you had gotten there however, you found only the debris of her explosions, the spraypaint she loved, clouds of coloured smoke, and guards everywhere. 

And no Jinx.

No sign of her or where she could be, you had no choice but to return to Zaun before you got dragged into the oncoming investigation, empty-handed. You spend the rest of the day worrying over where she might be in her workshop, sitting with your head in your hands on the couch. Is she hurt? Captured? She could be dead for all you know.

So when she shows up again, seemingly ignorant to how long she has been gone or the stress she has caused, you can’t help but raise your voice, crying about how you had expected the worst. You scream back and forth for a bit before she leaves you to burn off her energy.

‘Hey trinket,’ the door to her warehouse screeches open, and she stands in the entrance, looking at you as you sit on the couch, barely even looking at her. ‘Ya still mad at me?’

She sighs when she doesn’t get a response, coming close to wipe at the dried tear-stains on your cheeks, setting down her tools and her guns to favour your face between her hands. Jinx makes sure you can see only her.

‘I’m sorry i vanished, i didnt mean to scare ya, honest.’ she pulls you down to lean into her shoulder, still stroking your cheeks with her fingers. ‘Can ya forgive me, trinket? I’ll make it up to ya, i promise.’

Jinx cuddles with you on the couch for the rest of the day, showering you in kisses at your request. Safe to say, you can’t stay mad at her for very long at all.

|| ! mdni content below ! ||

➼ first time with jinx 

Jinx has always loved touching you, whether it’s a hand on your knee, an arm around your shoulder, or a hug from behind. She just loves to be close to you. But when you begin talking about the idea of sex with her she immediately jumps on the idea (and probably jumps on you as soon as you bring it up, you only barely manage to drag her somewhere private)

She’s an enthusiastic lover in all things, of course. Fucking you isn’t going to be any different. But she’s gentle the first time, despite it all, she doesn’t really know what she’s doing, i don’t think Silco really prepared her for intimate relationships. 

But still, having sex with Jinx is amusing, its not serious, always cracking little jokes or tickling each other and finding little ways to be comfortable with the process. You can’t really find it in you to be nervous. 

She’d start slowly with you though, if you wanted, just to make you comfortable <3 

‘God trinket, ya look s’ pretty like this for me,’ she’s already slightly breathless, skirting her hands and dragging her chipped nails over your ribs. She lays you down on the couch in her warehouse, sitting between your thighs, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes.

‘Ya feel alright?’ she checks in occasionally, just to be sure. 

But she lets her hands wander at the same time, she can tell you aren’t going to say no just by the look in your eyes, urging her to continue. She lets her hands travel over your stomach and down in between your thighs, but she doesn’t hurry where you need her. No, she prefers to tease you. Just a little bit to get you squirming. 

When she does finally reach your core, dipping her fingers in between your folds, does she finally let up and give you what you want.

[tkaulitzlvr]

loved your new fic :) was wondering if you could possibly make a part two of it that would just be the morning after with lots of fluff n cute stuff as they just got back together?

obviously it’s absolutely your choice & there is no rush at all <3

SORRY (2) - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: for the first time in over a month, you wake up beside tom. at first, you are unsure of what to make of the situation, tom quick to reassure you.

content: fluff

a/n: thanku so much!! part 2 to this - i feel like i hardly write fluff and all my page is smut (it gets a little boring sometimes) so decided to write this req to compensate for the lack of fluff i post. this is something a little short, but hope u enjoy!! 💞

warmth. the first thing i am able to register when my body begins to stir, eyes fluttering open and shut on the verge of consciousness is the heat that envelops my skin. the feeling is foreign, almost new to me, though somewhere within the haze i find the familiarity of it all, gaze slowly falling downward to find a pair of arms wrapped securely around my waist, the person who they belong to also just as close, soft breathing tickling the skin of my neck as his head rests beside it. i probably would pay little attention to the increase in temperature as i wake, if i hadn’t done so alone the past month, usually greeted with the harsh realisation that tom wasn’t mine anymore - until now.

but i don’t feel secure, nor happy, that i wake up beside the man that i love, as i had thought i would if the day ever came that i managed to get him back. instead, i feel strangely out of place, thousands of questions circling my mind as this situation leaves me more confused than ever. sure, i remember the night we shared, the passion, the raw emotion - it is one that cannot be mistaken for anything but truth, because if tom was lying about what he had told me, then god, he’s a pretty fucking good actor. hell, even i couldn’t brush his words aside ‘they weren’t you’. how could i? he had told me exactly what i wanted to hear, and yet i lay here, not as ecstatic as i should be, my heart failing to burst with joy at the sudden confession that he still loves me. he knows that he leads me blindly, his words sweet as honey, meaningful as gospel, igniting the dull flame within me whether they were true or not - i am far too devoted to consider their credibility.

tom however, clearly isn’t overthinking half as much as i am. his mouth agape, obnoxiously loud snores escaping from it, his body tangled within the sheets and my own - he probably wouldn’t notice if a burglary happened right next to him. hesitant to wake him, the idea of facing the awkwardness that will arise from whatever happened last night makes my stomach churn with utter dread. so i lay silently, eyes fixed to the ceiling, looking for any distraction from my wondering mind, though the quiet doesn’t help, fuelling the ‘what if’s’ that continue to give me nothing but a massive headache, eager for the remedy that is his consolation.

the secure grip around my waist begins to tighten, too much for it to be accidental. silently praying that he is just stirring in his sleep, my body stays still, head betraying my mind as it slowly turns to face him, only to be met with his own eyes fluttering open, a low groan leaving his lips as he stretches out.

“morning leibe.” he states so nonchalantly it is almost like we had never broken up, his lips nearing my own as they attempt to pull me into a kiss. i turn my head, slightly hesitant to melt into his embrace, unsure of what we are right now, the questions in my mind far too important to be ignored, even when his lips are so close to mine, soft and pink, almost gravitating me toward them against my will.

his eyebrows furrow at my rejection, arms slowly moving away from my waist, instead resting a gentle hand against my hip as he speaks. “what’s wrong? did i do something?”

my heart breaks, tugging at the strings at his confusion. honestly, he hadn’t done anything wrong - not right now anyway. i don’t know what we are, and that thought scares me, more than he realises at first glance. i have always been this way, liking answers to be clear, on paper, with zero doubt of them being interpreted differently. so this situation is a nightmare come true, tom’s intentions, though seemingly clear last night, still a hazy blur amidst the thoughts piling in my mind. and i hate leaving him in the dark, though he is unconsciously doing the same to me right now. but i know that it isn’t fair to shut him out as i always do, deciding to speaking my feelings, whether things end well or not.

“i just- i don’t know what we are. did you want me for a quick fuck last night, or-”

“you really think i want you for a quick fuck?” he asks, voice low and soft, lacking any anger within it as i had expected. instead, he remains calm, hands tentatively reaching upward to cup my cheeks, my entire face resting within his heavy palms. his thumb slowly strokes the skin next to my lips, face inches away from my own as the soft breaths escaping his mouth fan against my cheeks.

my silence speaks volumes - letting him know how confusing this whole thing is to me, though it seems the lack of clarity is clearly one sided: tom’s brows furrowed, eyes slightly narrowed as his mouth parts, little sound escaping from it. but my silence, whilst surprising to him, is equally precious, because it buys him time to continue. his hold on me strong, yet his words slow and soft as they pour from his lips turn out to be the most beautiful - and somehow reassuring, contrast imaginable, especially when in this moment, i desperately clutch onto any comfort that he shows. and, luckily for me, he intends to remind me that my worries are mere delusions - his confession music to my ears.

“schatz…c’mon, you know you’re more than that to me.” he seems at a loss for words, tongue swiping nervously across his bottom lip between words, knocking the small metal ring that adorns it to the side, playing with it in an irregular motion, his eyes just as skittish.

silence indulges the room as he awaits my response, his eyes scanning my expression almost desperately, the same way i had looked at him moments ago, the roles reversing far quicker than i had expected. he is waiting on me, seeking my reassurance, his statement coming out as more of a question, though it seems directed to the both of us. he is asking himself the same thing - soon realising that he is equally as keen to receive consolation as i am.

“i don’t know it’s just- weird, i guess? i’m not over it. i tried to act like i was, but look where i ended up, at some shitty club with a random guy at my hip.” each words that falls from my lips becomes harder to say, soon realising that this is the first time i have spoken about how i truly feel after we parted. feelings change, people move on and time continues to run its course, but none of that had happened, my soul just as empty as it had been the second he left. my expression mirrors my emotions, tears soon building around the brim of my eyes, threatening to spill from them with another word. but i take that chance, knowing that i am in far too deep to keep anything left unsaid - especially when he is here, and i have him listening, really taking in my words, instead of brushing them off as he did before. “and i can’t go through having my heart broken again. once was enough, don’t break my heart again, please.”

“baby…” he trails off, his arms wrapping tightly around my trembling frame, body following as it presses against mine, soothing me in the way i wanted, no, needed. truthfully, my confession couldn’t be taken as a complete surprise. i know it, and tom knows it too, his brief silence proving that he wants to try, the small circles trailed along my back temporarily taking away the pain, giving him the time to think about what he is saying, to properly consider his choice of words, rather than spewing out anything that will console me.

a minute passes, heavy breaths escaping from my lips, masked within the small sobs soon mixing into the soft air until they eventually turn into silence, my eyes soon drying, thin red lines stretched across the sea of white surrounding my irises, in place of the saltiness of my tears. it is at that moment when his face appears from my shoulder where it had once been resting, lips nearing my cheeks as they slowly, oh so slowly, begin kissing away the remnants of dried tears, gently making any evidence of my sorrow disappear, replacing them with the tender consolation of his company, though now it is beyond that - his kisses show far more than the reminder that he is here with me, they show that his love is there too, far stronger than his presence alone.

“i love you. i love you so much. never doubt that for a second. when you think you’ve lost everything, you’ll never lose my love for you. i could live a thousand lifetimes, and it would still be you.” it is clear that he means it this time, but if his words themselves hadn’t made that obvious, then the kiss that he places onto my lips afterward reaffirms their truth, compelling me to kiss back as soon as i am able to process the feeling of his lips, soft and pillowy, on my own.

this is love. not two people pretending to show affection, blinded by lust over true passion. because before tom, i realise that i had no knowledge of the word. the way his lips move slowly against mine, no sexual intent behind the kiss, drives me further and further into the abyss that is his love, devoted to him whether it is good for me or not. i am far too blind to be able to distinguish between right or wrong, my heart and soul in total agreement that he is the one, regardless of the fact that moments ago, i was unsure. all it takes is his reassurance, his lips on my own, to understand that nobody else is capable of making me feel this way.

seconds feel like hours, the entire concept of time slipping away as i latch onto him, lips becoming pink and swollen as they collide messily, unable to part despite the feeling of breathless that soon takes over. it didn’t matter, none of it did, because tom is my oxygen, and as long as i am able to feel his soft lips on my own, nothing else seems important. moments like these are unable to be recreated, heat rising between us, yet the distance only decreases, until my body is on top of his, tangled within the sheets, kisses soft despite the strong hold he maintains on my hips.

even when our lips separate, our foreheads remain rested against each other’s, content smiles spread across our faces, nothing needing to be said as our expressions sum everything up. his hand moves upward, running softly through my hair, removing loose strands that had found their way onto my face, tucking them slowly behind my ear. for the first time, i am not worried. i don’t waste a second considering ‘what if…’ or ‘what about…’, because it doesn’t matter to me, and once a peaceful silence envelops the both of us, it quickly becomes real, all of it - from the soft kisses, to the sincere confessions: love, there are countless ways to display it, but nobody seemed to get it right, until tom.

his fingers jab playfully into my sides, disturbing the peaceful moment, though it doesn’t alter my mood, a wider smile spreading across my face as i squirm above him, hitting his chest whilst small giggles leave my lips. in one swift motion, he manages to flip us over, somehow dragging the covers over the both of us in the process, his body now on top of my own. the same smile that fails to falter on my own face now spreads across his, though it doesn’t last as long, his mouth opening to speak whilst his hands run up and down my waist rhythmically.

“how does breakfast sound? whatever you like.” he lifts up, moving off of me and to the side, bringing my body closer to him, his arms snaking around my waist comfortingly, lips placing a quick kiss onto my forehead. “let me take you out today. shopping maybe? or what about that pizza place you like?”

“hm, i’ll take you up on breakfast. but can we stay here today? i’m tired, and i forgot how comfy your bed is.” i chuckle quietly, allowing the soft sheets to envelop me further, consequently snuggling closer into tom’s embrace, his body accepting my proximity as he wraps his arms tighter around me.

he laughs lowly at my words, nodding slowly against me, his head tilting to the side as his lips plant a firm kiss into my hair. “sure, anything you want schatz.” i smile contently at his response, sighing softly in relief, closing my eyes at the feeling of peace that soon takes over, careful not to take any of it for granted, relishing every second that i remain within his arms.

and he sticks to his promise. our bodies remain tangled together, wrapped up within the sheets until the familiar blend of oranges and pinks leak through a small gap in the curtains, casting its light throughout the room, somehow highlighting tom’s features in the most beautiful way possible, from the soft pools of brown that are his eyes, to his skin, so smooth it resembles silk itself, the golden rays melting onto his lips, still a light shade of red, decorated with the small metal ring that i have seen so many times. it is perfect: sharing ‘quick’ kisses - though they never ended that way, tom insisting on deepening them until we had to pull away, warm and breathless, meaningless conversations, soft laughter sounding throughout the room, filling the thick air with a reminder of our love for each other. the day ends the same way that it had began, my legs tangled within tom’s, arm draped lazily across his chest, his fingers running soothingly up and down my waist, lips planting quick kisses wherever they are able to gain access to. and, like clockwork, those lips utter the same words they had just hours ago, with the same truthfulness behind them as the first time they had been spoken, only this time, i am certain that he means it.

“i love you, schatz.”

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[ratwithhands]

I'm curious. I've seen your art and something that's come to my mind is what actually got you attached with the Subway brothers. Your narrative on their different AU forms is so unique which is what brought me to that question

Alright, rat history time.

So basically back in 2021-2022, I was working on an old OC storyline (about 3 years old by then) and I was in grade 9 so I was like “A new Pokémon game? Pfft, like I care” and just didn’t watch any of the stuff related to PLA when it dropped. I still got recommended Twitter posts about it on Instagram and I ended up seeing this one.

I tried looking up Ingo cause I was like "oh, funky design, looks like a captain or something" but I didn't end up finding anything so I didn't press further. Anyways in March break of 2022, I got bored and decided to put some game streams on in the background while I drew. I saw Alpharad's PLA video and decided to watch it for a bit when I saw Ingo.

I was like "Hey you're the guy from Twitter!" and since I knew his name now, I looked him up and found his Bulbapedia article. I found him much more interesting than the rest of the PLA cast since he had history outside PLA, and I ended up reading up whatever I could find on him. I also by extension discovered Emmet this way, which only served to suck me deeper down the rabbit hole. By the end of March break I had a fan OC and 2 AUs made with more on the way, as well as a YouTube recommended page with nothing but theory videos on Ingo and decade old Submas content.

Around May I decided to decommission my OC storyline for personal reasons, and by this point Submas was starting to occupy more of my creative work anyways. Since I didn't have my storyline to put my energy into, I started funnelling literally any story ideas into Submas. This led to nonstop content for a shockingly long time, and ofc I'm still coming up with stuff now.

Long story short, I got attached to them by accident! It was a "right place, right time" sort of thing since they came in as I was starting to get sluggish with my original content and I ended up being more interested in writing for them.

As for narratives, I am effectively playing dolls with these guys. Usually the kind of stuff that I write for them is meant for OCs, but I dumped the 60+ person cast so I put that energy into them instead.

Most AUs will either have a core theme, an out of pocket idea, or both to make things interesting. Usually I just come up with a dumbass idea like "what if we brought ReBURST back for a rerun" or "what if Emmet signed a contract with an eldritch space spider" or "what if Submas could see into the future" and stuff like that, then it picks up themes as I keep writing. For some silly examples:

Burst is based on Pokémon ReBURST and the idea of human-Pokémon fusion, but there's focus on skill, how characters misperceive it, and resentment as a result. There's also a spotlight on inferiority complexes, bottled up guilt, and blind confidence depending on which main character you look at

Journal is about a diary that helps Ingo to regain his memories, and it focuses on remembrance and regret as a result of him reading it. Spotlight on lacking awareness vs hyper awareness and the monotony of living as people around you leave

Oracle is exactly what it sounds like, with the twins being able to see into the future. It focuses on cooperation and the importance of working together, but also learning how to work alone. The spotlight's on jealousy and gratitude for this one, though the latter greatly outweighs the former in this case

I also just have AUs I made to try deranged shit for funsies, like Sapioflora, Cybernetic/Z-Λ, Team Supernova, and Idol. Those are mostly for exploring goofy ideas that may or may not go anywhere.

Right anyways basically I just saw Submas after watching PLA gameplay and found the twins more interesting to write about than the project I'd exhausted by then. The narratives are like that because the AU ideas I make are actually OC concepts that I modify to fit Pokémon specifically for these two or ideas about the two that I'd like to explore. Hope that answers the question ^^*

[vimesbootstheory]

CK S6 Pt1 Thoughts

Do we still call this "the cut" or did we leave that behind on LJ? Anyway the thoughts are under the cut. I haven't looked at anyone else's thoughts yet, no idea whether this is echo chamber stuff or if I watched a different show than the rest of you.

Overall I honestly had a blast, I'm probably gonna talk more here about stuff I disliked but that's because positive stuff kept me glued to the screen while negative stuff sent me to vent in the notes doc I had open in another window lol

Eagle Fang was Johnny's thing, not an extension of Kreese's Cobra Kai, and I was so angry at the show for not understanding that that I burst into tears

I continue to think that the big cast is spreading character work too thin, such that most characters were either made much less interesting than they have been in previous seasons (e.g. Daniel, Miguel) or were given too little time with the character work they had (e.g. Robby, Kenny) or both.

Characters I made particular note of who are now boring: Daniel, Amanda, Sam, Hawk.

I was surprised in particular how Daniel was given virtually no character work other than this token Miyagi thing. I prefer when Daniel's a bitch. Daniel being The Reasonable One is incredibly boring.

We kinda got slutty gi back? In hallucination form? Briefly?

This was a hard realization: I don't think I ship Daniel/Johnny in these episodes. I'm still absolutely bonkers for them in previous seasons (1-4 mostly) and in the fandom sphere but honestly I wanted Johnny away from Daniel most of the time in s6e1-5. I found it really off-putting how much Daniel was trying to change Johnny into someone he's not.

Fave new character was Kwon. Enjoyably silly. I like his anime hair.

Delighted that Jarmen baby is a girl, even more delighted that the topic of the baby was pretty backgrounded, didn't spend a lot of time on it.

I am filled with incandescent rage that they neutered SamTory; it was weird rooting for Johnny's terrible strategies to make them frenemies instead of friends. But it looks like they're not quite done yet so I'm gonna cool my heels on this point.

Team Captain nepo babies lol. I would be so pissed if I were any of the other Miyagi-Do students.

Loved Johnny championing his female students. In an ideal world I would not have had a little voice at the back of my head wishing he'd spend the same kind of quality time with Robby (How about some Robby time? Robby? Robby now? Johnny and Robby?); nevertheless for what it was, I still really like Johnny supporting Devon and (to a lesser extent) Tory. Meanwhile Daniel over here in his sexist era I guess, ok. Like he really only wanted to send his daughter and no other girls.

Peyton List is the part-season's MVP, obviously obviously. She was so great. Kicked ass, kicked acting's ass. Tory was probably the meatiest character of the season, too, though that's not saying a ton.

My worst fears were not realized re: Johnny's character. He still isn't the fully-realized guy he was in early seasons, but relative to other characters, he's having a pretty OK season IMO. Knock on wood.

I was unexpectedly all riled up on Anthony's behalf. Why does he HAVE to get into karate? Why does he have to be Daniel 2.0? At least this was addressed textually.

So pissed on Kenny's behalf. Justice for Kenny. He deserved one of the top 6 spots. He got poo pants instead. Jesus Christ.

Loved the Lawrence vs Barnes fight, very metal, excellent choreo, love watching Zabka move. I would bet the cobros are lighting up at having an answer on that particular head-to-head.

This has been a running thing with Cobra Kai for a while, but I'm not even sure how I as an audience member was supposed to see Johnny's current teaching style? Honestly I loved his day of blended-style lessons. Obviously broken glass in the koi pond is not a great idea. But like. Jesus Christ, Daniel, katas HAVE STRIKES. WHAT DO YOU EVEN WANT.

Did they really just write Chozen out without any goodbyes? :(((

Daniel's ego flare-up and "I'm the boss" moment, contender for only interesting aspect to his character in these five eps. Hell yea hell yea. Show some goddamn teeth Daniel LaRusso.

One thing I think CK excels at and has always excelled at is keeping the stakes up for tournament-style fights, such that more often than not, I can't tell just through narrative signposting who's going to win. Robby vs Miguel in particular was a nail-biter. I did a full-body arm-pump when Robby won. Though the stakes were weird because it's not as someone can't win in Barcelona if they're not a captain? That was confusing and makes me think it's going to be their way of doling out successes across the main four kids. Like Robby and Sam for the captains, and then Miguel will win, presumably Tory too when she flip-flops back to team good guys again.

Interesting acting/directing/writing (idk which) choice during Robby vs Miguel, Johnny visibly rooting for Robby.

I love that Johnny brought up losing his mum when Tory's mum died, but I really hope they get the chance to bond over it at some point.

The fuckin magic jewel bottle cap got me so bad. Resourceful DIY toys is poor person realness and it was so cute and heartbreaking.

It's weird that new!CK got into the tournament because it's clearly not really the same dojo, so they haven't really qualified.

I'm so pumped about Kreese being the main villain. That was true before the season began and I still feel that way.

I'm excited for part 2!

[enam3l]

finally, it's here. my first real series. loosely based on the film love, rosie. it's a devastatingly slow burn and full of angst and longing. i hope you guys enjoy.

after the events of season four, your best friend eddie munson moves on leaving you behind, in love with him and concealing a secret you never hope he discovers.

follow #enam3l love lola

a/n: happy ending eventually, slow burn, will they won't they, a lil angsty but never mean eddie

At age 8 you met Eddie Munson for the first time and you were sure he was the prettiest person you'd ever seen. Your Grandmother had visited a womens refuge to drop off old clothes, pots, pans, things she owned but didn't need. There she had spotted a young woman, beautiful with cascading brown curls but a panicked look on her face and tears on the brink of falling. Attached to her leg was a boy, wide eyes anxiously scanning the alien surroundings. Drawn in by the sweet boy who looked your age, your grandmother approached the woman.

Over the next hour she had learnt their history and their circumstances. Within the next two hours your Gran took advantage of her own means to develop a plan for the pair. By that evening your dinner table had two extra settings arranged. No longer just you and your Grandmother, you were now joined by Eva Munson, your new housekeeper and her son - Eddie - who from under his mop of dark curls assessed you across the grand dining table with big bright eyes, the colour of the special chocolates you were only given at Christmas. He was pretty and precious like the delicate porcelain dolls you were only allowed to gaze at in your Grandma's reading room and you instinctively wanted so badly to take care of him. 

At age 11 and on the cusp of puberty, you realised Eddie Munson was not just pretty like a flower or doll, he was beautiful and kind like the unexpected saviour of a fairytale. With three years of best friendship under your belt, you understood that Eddie was not like any boy or even man you had ever met. He was not selfish or cruel like your father and he wasn't obnoxious and boring like the sons of your Grandmother's fancy friends, who until Eddie arrived, you had been stuck amongst. He was endlessly interesting, you could listen to him all day although he wouldn't allow that, always insisting on hearing your ideas too. Eddie had once asked you why your favourite book was Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. With a wicked smile you had replied because those spoilt children got their comeuppance and you could only dream about that happening to the many Augustus Gloops and Veruca Salts in your life. Slightly downtrodden, Eddie had chuckled glumly, 'I guess I am Charlie, poor and can't believe his luck .' 

Gasping and horrified at Eddie's lack of self belief, you furiously shook your head and began to explain,

'No! You're Willy Wonka. You are brilliant and yes, a little bit mad and no one can appreciate just how special you are.'

At age 14 you decided before anything, now more than ever, you had to be Eddie's sworn protector and you pushed your crush deep into the darkest corner of yourself. The content bubble that for the past five years you had been living in - consisting of yourself, your Grandmother, Eddie and his mom - had been burst. Eddie's mother died. Your best friend, already different by nature began to separate himself further from the world. His eyes became a little sadder. His clothes became darker. His music became angrier and louder. Your games became more complex, rarely concluding with a happy ending. His now shoulder length curls were buzzed. But most importantly you knew at this age, teenagers were getting meaner and you were not long off from starting High School. Whilst your heart ached to live out your teenage romance with Eddie, his heart was broken and he was in mourning. Your best friend, already an easy target for bullies, was more vulnerable than ever and protecting his heart was far more important than yours. 

At 17 as you watched Eddie's hair grow longer than ever and him truly come into his own, you had to work harder than ever to ignore it. Painfully aware your bodies were fully developed and hormone filled, you attempted to delude yourself that you weren't achingly in love with your best friend. You distracted yourself with meaningless flings and boyfriends who couldn't hold a candle to Eddie. High School was relatively smooth sailing for you, your respected name courtesy of your Gran gifting a protective shield. The higher echelon of students may not have liked you especially, god knows you loathed them but they respected you. Academia wasn't an issue, you excelled in plenty and even subjects you didn't particularly like or have a talent for, you were still able to do more than satisfactory in. The same couldn't be said for Eddie. You were truly his defender, your presence limiting the hate campaign that built against him. But when you weren't by his side, he was subjected to torment for his hair, his clothes, his passions and his background. Since his mom died, Uncle Wayne took him in and the trailer became his home. Despite Wayne working hard to provide a good and loving home, a trailer was still a red mark against Eddie's name to vapid teens. You were grateful still his warm personality and ability to seek out those in need, resulted in Hellfire Club. Now Eddie had allies. 

At 18 it was clear you would be graduating without Eddie. Whilst you could speak about his talents endlessly, your bestfriend was too creative, thought too abstract for academic life. As you stood on the stage alone, your heart cracked at the thought for the first time in a decade, your best friend wouldn't be by your side. You'd spent a year in a state of near hyperventilation ruminating on how he'd be alone, without you to protect him but more worryingly, you would be without him - the one person you loved most in every way. Realistically he would still have the younger boys from Hellfire but you'd have no one, alone in New York without your comfort blanket. The one fear that ate away at you was now that you were gone, Eddie might fall in love. He'd already developed a few admirers from becoming a local feature of The Hideout with his band Corroded Coffin. 

By 20 you were alone and Eddie-less in New York studying for your second year. He'd again failed to graduate and was on his third attempt. Whilst you loved your degree, the city and new friends it was undeniable it would all improve with his presence. Nearly every night you exchange stories over the phone and attempt to visit but as time passed, schedules became more hectic. With Hellfire and the band occupying the forefront of his mind, you felt like a ghost from his past growing more faint by the day. Each hook up tale from the bar chipped further away at you, each new person in his life pushing you further down his list. You'd ended up with boyfriends you loathed in selfish attempts to fill the Eddie shaped void in your heart.  

Now you're still 20, fearing Eddie won't be joining you in turning 21 in a few months time. He lays there before you, hand under yours and still absent of his inherent warmth. Alabaster skin near void of life, dark circles round his eyes matching the spreading mass of purple bruising across his torso. Already red seeps through the white fibres of fresh bandages. No longer in your arms, where he belongs, Eddie Munson lies in a hospital bed. Unconscious to your words and touch, oblivious of the tears that trickled down your face and splashed over his tattooed forearm. Flittering between life and death before you could even confess you were in love with your best friend. 

[ashwhowrites]

Eddie x you are debating if baby is a boy/girl and trying to decide on a name, but both of you have completely different style preferences for names.

Thank you so much 😊😊

I hope you don't mind I turned this into a headcanon!

Eddie and Y/N have been married for around two years at this point

But have been together as a couple since highschool

Now they are in their middle 20s, and trying for a baby

And they've been trying for a long time

But Eddie isn't one to complain about the trying process

He loved getting to go into his wife with no condom

To feel her bare and everything indent

She loves it too

The feeling of every vein pushing through her

Plus Eddie now realizes he has a breeding kink and it's bad

"I just love filling you up"

"you're going to look so hot with my baby in you"

"I can't wait for everyone to see you and just know you are mine."

"everyone's going to know I busted inside of you."

And she didn't want to complain about it at all, she loved it

So when she got the news she was pregnant, she was fucking excited

She practically ran out of the bathroom, holding the stick tightly in her hand

When Eddie returned home from work and saw his wife practically bouncing on her feet

He was confused

"what's going on baby?"

She shoved the stick in his face

Once Eddie realized what he was looking at, he burst into tears

He was having a baby

THEY WERE HAVING A BABY

Conversations of the gender and names began to follow suit

Eddie wanted a boy

She wanted a girl

"I'm carrying the child. It's definitely a girl"

"baby no, it's definitely a boy"

"she's going to be so beautiful. She'll be so smart."

"no, he's going to be so handsome. A total ladies man."

"she's going to be just like me."

"he's going to be just like his daddy."

Well that would definitely be trouble

The names were even more of a disagreement

Eddie's ideas of names were a tad bit out there

"what about Luther?"

"oooo Amiri"

"Eliam"

" Camilo"

"Wyder"

"naw, Ozzy is the pick!"

"Eddie! I am not naming my baby after Ozzy Osbourne"

She thought of more precious names

"Elizabeth"

"Laurie"

"Cara"

"Bethany"

"I am not naming my baby after a boring name like that"

It went on for months

The gang tried to throw in their ideas

"name it after me!"

"our kid is not being named Dustin"

Well at least they agreed on one thing

She was getting bigger and time was running out

She was going to pop at any second

Eddie was freaking out, now hitting him he actually will be having a baby

The couple wanted to be surprised of the gender when the baby arrived

Eddie was sleeping when his wife was smacking him

"WAKE UP! THE BABY IS COMING!"

Eddie has never moved so fast

After hours of labor....

A baby boy was born

Eddie fist bumped the sky

Y/N wasn't even mad, because her heart melted at the idea of a little boy being a mini Eddie Munson

A mini twin of the man she fell in love with

But the name?

Yeah they'll still be working on that

[spaceorphan18]

Five Times Kurt Talks About Sex and 1 Time He Doesn't (Part Five)

A/N: So, this was inspired the other day by a Nonny who was asking about how Kurt interacts with others on the topic of sex and this little idea popped in my head.

It’s a little mini-series, and I’ll post one part a day, then I’ll get it up on Ao3 after it’s complete.

It’s set in a post-canon-ish world when they’re all living in New York. The whole thing takes place over the course of a day.

****

Conversation Five : Santana

“We are doing it.” 

“We are so not doing it.” 

“C’mon, Hummel, I know how you like it.” 

“I think you’re ridiculous and it’s not happening.” 

“Because you’re afraid of losing.” 

“I’m not afraid of losing.” 

“Okay, then we’re doing it.” 

Santana slams a shot glass in front of him on the kitchen counter, grinning wildly as she opens the bottle of Vodka she’s brought.  Kurt arches his eyebrow high.  He knows he shouldn’t have let her in the door.  He had been having a nice, quiet evening with a book and a couple of episodes of a baking show queued up on his tv.  With Blaine at his performance, he knew he’d get a chance to have the night to himself.  And then Santana had burst through the door.  It’s not his fault that Santana can’t entertain herself while Brittany is away.  

“You couldn’t go crash Rachel and Jesse’s?” Kurt suggests.  “I hear they’re looking for a third.” 

They head to the kitchen table, then Santana pours them both a shot, cackling.  “As much as I’m dying to get a look at Rachel Berry’s delicate flower,” she answers sarcastically, “they’re busy tonight.  Besides, it’s been a while since you and I have had a little quality one on one time.  And if I can’t get you to go out with me - because let’s face it, you are a seventy year old woman at heart - I thought I’d bring the party here.” 

Kurt is not amused.  “I am not getting drunk for your entertainment.” 

Santana claps her hands together.  “Well, then you better win the game. The game is ‘Never Have I Ever’ and it’s first to ten…”  

“Ten?!”

“Yes, ten.  If you’re going to do something, do it right! First to ten loses.  And you better keep it dirty, Hummel, because that’s how I like it.”  Santana wiggles her eyebrows.  

“You’re certifiable.  Also, I’m starting.” 

“Of course, ladies always go first.”  

Kurt picks up the shot, giving it a smell and nearly chokes on fumes alone.  Thank god he’s at home.  “Fine.  Never have I ever… slept with a woman.” 

“Ooh, starting easy, I see your game,” Santana says, throwing back the shot.  “My turn,” she sings as she pours herself another one. “Never have I ever sucked a dick I actually liked.” 

Kurt rolls his eyes as he throws back the shot.  It’s been a while, and the alcohol stings a bit as it goes down.  But he can do this.  No way is he going to give Santana the satisfaction.  “Alright… never have I ever had a threesome.”  

“You know, you really should,” Santana knocks back the shot.  “There’s nothing like getting yourself off to the sight of your partner being thoroughly serviced.  Remind me to find you and Blaine the no-strings-attached hunk of your dreams to play around with for your anniversary next year.” 

“Oh god…” 

She snaps her fingers.  “Okay, okay… never have I ever done it outside.”  

Kurt grins, shaking his head.   

“What??  Seriously, you’ve never even tried?” Santana’s aghast.  

“Have you been outside?” Kurt argues.  “I have no intention of getting literally dirty while having sex.”  

“You are seriously the most boring human ever,” Santana groans.  

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to take a shot if it applies to you?  Or are you going to claim you’ve never done anything outside even though you complained for weeks about doing it on the beach and getting sand up your butt.” 

“Oh, fuck, right,” Santana takes a third shot.  “I’ve got to be more astute in my questions.”  She points a finger at him, eyeing him carefully.  

Kurt’s grin grows wider.  “Are you feeling it yet?”  

“No,” Santana shoots back, a little too quickly.  “But I am starving - we should have snacks.”  She gets up to begin going through his pantry.  “Fat free crackers? Low-sodium popcorn?  You guys know that you’re in your twenties and not eighty, right?  Oh, good, Cheetos.  I’m guessing these are Blaine’s because he’s the one who knows how to have a good time.”  

Kurt makes a grimace as Santana sits back down, shoveling the Cheetos into her mouth, orange, dusty crumbs getting everywhere.  She offers him some of the bag but he declines, not sure that he’ll ever be able to look at Cheetos the same way again.  He watches her for a moment as a question dawns on him.  “Never have I ever eaten anything off my partner.”

“Anything?” Santana challenges. 

He catches himself.  “Spread chocolate syrup on myself and let my partner lick it up.”  

“I should make you take a drink for that.  What did Blaine eat off you? Whipped cream? Actual syrup?  Ranch dressing?” She begins to laugh at her own suggestions.  “Oh, wait, no, Blaine spread chocolate syrup on himself and you licked it up?  He poured it on his dick, didn’t he?” 

“Just take the shot, Santana,” Kurt nudges her the shot glass.  “And no - Blaine’s dick tastes like candy without the help of chocolate.” 

“You are the worst,” Santana says as she drinks.  “How am I already losing this badly? Okay, okay…” She eats more of the Cheetos as she thinks.  Then her eyes grow wide as an idea comes to her.  “Never have I ever… done it in the same room as my friends without them knowing.”  

Kurt eyes her sharply.  He probably shouldn’t admit to it, but as boring as his sex life actually is to someone like Santana, it’s nice to tease that he isn’t completely an innocent.  He takes the shot and toys with it a little, leaving her in suspense before throwing it back.  

“What?!” Santana’s voice is loud and shrill; the four shots she’s had are definitely kicking in.  “When?  Was I there?? Was this in the loft??” 

Kurt chuckles.  “Yes and nope.”  

“Fuck, really?”

“Yeah,” he replies, offering nothing else.  “Are you going to say that you haven’t?” “If we did it in the same room, you’d totally know it,” Santana shoots back.  “Britt and I are hot when we fuck.”

“Exobitionist.” 

“Prude.  It’s your turn..” 

“Okay, uh… never have I ever made a sex tape.” 

Santana slaps her hand loudly on the table as she takes the shot. “You just can’t stop going for the low hanging fruit, can you? Have a little imagination.  Never have I ever moved the mirror so I could watch myself being fucked.” 

Kurt grumbles taking the shot..  He’s beginning to feel it, though, and can’t quite stop himself from thinking out loud. “Have you seen Blaine’s ass though?  I always just want a view of that ass, so why not look at it in the mirror?”   Did he really just say that out loud?  Santana lets out a cackle.  “What, like you don’t have a mirror near your bed?” 

“Oh, honey, we do it to our sex tape.  C’mon.”  

The room feels warm, and that light, buzzy feeling is taking him quicker than he thought.  Usually he holds his liquor better.  At least he had a big dinner, so most of it won’t come back up in a few hours.   What are they at - five to three? Hopefully, they can wrap this up before Blaine gets home… 

Santana stares him down, just waiting for his next statement, but admittedly, it’s getting harder to think of things.  “Never have I ever done it in an airplane,” he says.  

“Oh, I wish,” Santana cries out.  She’s now loud enough that her voice carries throughout the apartment.  “We tried, Hummel.  We so tried.  But then the bathroom smelled like vomit and some old guy kept wanting to get in and then the airplane hit turbulence.  We haven’t tried since.  Oh, which reminds me, speaking of methods of transportation -- Have I never…wait, I have never… wait, fuck…” She waves her arms in the air as she tries to make it come to her.

“Never have I ever…” he helps her, tightening up his lips, trying not to giggle at her drunkenness.  

“Yes,” she points a finger at him, her eyes wide with delight. “Never have I ever been groped in the back of a Prius in the middle of the afternoon in a church parking lot.”

No longer being able to contain it, he bursts out laughing.  It’s so oddly specific.  And so oddly true.  He has no regrets, and takes the shot.  “Fair.  Okay, so never have I spent a month on the island of Lesbos hoping to have some kind of female orgy and been disappointed when I found mostly tourists looking at old, Greek architecture.”  

“Oh my god, I forgot about that trip.”  Santana doubles over in laughter, making a mess as she takes her shot and pours another one.  Normally, Kurt would be annoyed but he just throws a napkin at her, making them both laugh more.  

“You are so drunk,” he tells her.  

“And you’re getting there!” she pounds on the table. Her voice is now louder than normal, and quicker as she excitedly spits out the next one. “Okay, let’s get this going -- never have I sucked a dick twice my age.” 

Kurt rolls his eyes at her - they’re never going to let him live down Walter.  Shot.  “Never have I done it for money.” He finds that his voice is growing louder, too.  He can’t help it.  

She scrunches her nose at him.  “Hey, don’t judge, she was a fucking fine rich woman - how do you think we got around Lesbos?” She yells out.  Shot.  “Never have I had a sex dream that involved my spouse’s brother!” 

Shit - when did he tell her that? Shot.  “Never have I ever sent a full nude to my entire contact list.” He shoots back quickly - and loudly.  

She takes the shot.  “At least it was a good angle!”

“If you say so!”   

“Never have I ever worn a cockring and hated it!!” 

Shot. 

“Never have I ever worn a strap on and loved it!!!” 

Shot.  

“NEVER HAVE I EVER BEEN SO INTO MY HUSBAND’S SUPERHERO-SLASH-BIRD FETISH THAT I REGULARLY MAKE HIM WEAR THAT CHEESY, HOMEMADE RIDICULOUS OUTFIT SO THAT I CAN GET OFF TO IT ANY CHANCE I GET.” 

Kurt loses it.  Just loses it, laughing so hard that he begins to cry.  “Nightbird!” he quips, burying his head in his hands.  “You don’t get it, Santana…” his voice is high and slurred and broken up with laughter.  “He’s such a dapper Nightbird.  And I am the endangered citizen he has to rescue from the Evil Dr. Skunkrat - it was originally Mr. Meerkat but I made it skunkier.” 

“Wha…?” Santana’s laughing so hard she can hardly breathe.  “Do you mean skankier?” 

“Nooooo!” Kurt squeals.  “Skunkier!” He takes the shot.  “And after I’m rescued I thank him by playing with his gorgeous ass and sucking his delicious vanilla and caramel tasting cock!” 

“Oh my god it’s caramel sauce not chocolate…” Santana throws herself back laughing so hard that she tumbles out of her chair.  

Sober, he may have been more ashamed to say all of that out loud, but he’s so gone that he really doesn’t care.  It’s not like Santana couldn’t have guessed anyway.  Instead, he manages to get himself to the ground, and crawl around to Santana’s side to make sure she’s okay.  She’s sitting and fine, wiping the tears from her eyes as she scoots towards the kitchen cupboards to lean against them.  Oh god, what a night this is turning out to be.  He comes to sit next to her, the both of them holding each other close as they laugh together.  It does feel good to be this loose every once in a while.  

Santana lets out a heavy sigh, placing her head against his.  “Thank you for that,” she says.  “No really, this is probably the best night I’ve had in a long while.  And now I know how to blackmail you if I never need to.”  

“Don’t make me regret my life choices in the morning,” he jokes.  

“Honestly, Hummel…” her voice grows unusually low and sincere.  “Never have I ever barged in on a friend's boring-ass evening because secretly I’m not a huge fan of being on my own.”  

He gives her a smile, a bit of warmth spreading in his chest.  It’s nice to know that deep down - she does care. “Well,” he offers. “Never have I ever indulged in a drinking game with a close friend because, honestly, I do like talking about sex.”  

“Pervert.” 

“Sentimentalist.” 

“I think this calls for one final shot!” she says.  After a moment of struggling, she manages to get up on her knees to reach the bottle and shot glasses, pouring a final shot for each of them.  Settling next to him again on the floor, they make a toast and knock back the shot together.  

“You know, Santana, that shot makes it ten to nine,” Kurt says, not able to contain a tinge of smugness.  “I win.”  

“Fuck you, Hummel.” 

[everlark777]

holding you is like the new past

next | previous

chapter four

blonde hair. blue eyes. navy blue cardigans and wire framed glasses perched on the end of a lightly freckled nose.

he’s so close, i can feel the heat radiating off his arm. I can just reach out and touch him, but he turns away.

then he’s beside me again. i can feel him running his hand up the length of my arm, breathing in my ear. i arch against him.

i want to turn to see his face. i want to run my fingers through his hair, but i can’t seem to move. i look around, where am i?

i slowly opened my eyes to titan curled around my arm and shuddered.

what was that? did i just, dream? no.

i quickly got out of bed and ran to the bathroom. i could still feel him. i needed to take a shower.

i took the longest possible shower and got dressed. when i went out into the living area, mikasa was up making herself breakfast.

“what’s got you all disheveled this morning?”

i rushed to the mirror i have hanging on the wall and checked myself. i looked put together, or as put together as i usually look.

“what do you mean?”

“well, for starters you usually take showers at night, but it’s already 9:15 don’t you have a 9 a.m.?”

“shit, shit. i didn’t check the time, oh god.”

i started frantically looking for my bag and keys, tripped over the rug and stubbed my toe on the coffee table.

“don’t forget breakfast.”

mikasa politely offered and i threw her a scowl. i had to tell her she knew something was up, and surprisingly with mikasa she could think of worse things that are happening than the actual truth, so i took a deep breath to say the words but i couldn’t seem to say anything.

“are you just going to stand there or are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?”

“i had a sex dream about armin.” i said it barely above a whisper, it barely came out. immediately i regretted it but she heard it anyway.

mikasa doubled over in laughter.

“and it has you this disoriented? i’ve had actual sex that wasn’t that good” mikasa giggled, but i felt my face grow hotter by the second.

“oh my god this is so embarrassing, i just said i hated the guy.”

i checked my watch again 9:20, if i didn’t leave now i shouldn’t bother going.

“okay, i have to go, but don’t tell anyone.”

“not even historia or ymir?” mikasa whined.

i glared at mikasa and ran out the door.

—---

class was long and boring. on mondays i had lectures from 9-2 and then an hour lunch break and then it’s to my lab. after my lectures and my hectic morning i was ready to eat my lunch in peace, but mikasa had other plans because by the time i made my way over to the dining hall i was met with three eager sets of eyes staring at me for how i was feeling.

“hey, girl,” historia said in a fake sing-song voice. letting me know even before i sat down mikasa had told them everything.

i once again tried to stare daggers into mikasa’s skull.

“you told them?” i demanded.

“hey, you never said i couldn’t.” mikasa threw her hands up in defense.

“who are you to deprive us of quality drama anyways.” ymir pointed out.

“as if you can’t tell we lead pretty boring lives, unless we want to start a four women rap group we have nothing going on”

“what does a rap group have anything to do with this ymir?” historia giggled.

“i just imagined we could easily write a song about the structure of a cell”

“guys aren’t we getting a little off topic” i pointed out not wanting them to take this idea any further. otherwise we might end up with one hell of a talent show routine.

“oh, now you want the attention on you,” mikasa scoffs.

“mikasa is that eren” i said, pointing in another direction of the dining hall.

“what? where? i don’t see him” mikasa was frantically looking around in all directions fixing any hair that was out of place.

ymir burst out laughing. “that was so good, mikasa your face,” ymir took a deep inhale in between laughs “you were all like, eren? where” ymir continues to laugh.

“not funny,” mikasa frowned.

historia glared between the three of you bringing you all back down to earth. she always let you guys know when you had gone too far. you all settled down letting the table fall into silence.

“so you had a sex dream about armin?” historia asked.

—--

it was time for my third meeting with armin. circumstances warranted this was going to be awkward, i just had to sit down and act cordial towards him. i could do that. i could walk the few paces to my desk and act normal. i made my way to take my seat next to him. he was already seated. i felt his gaze lift from his work to watch me walk in the room. i tried to avoid looking in his direction but when i sat down he turned to me.

“i want to talk about the research you did.”

i froze up. in my frantic day i had forgotten to worry about the fact that he could ridicule me on any work i had put in. i felt all the anxiety and dread rush into me.

“i can’t right now.” i practically snapped.

armin moved back and raised his eyebrows in surprise. he opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it again, too shocked to speak.

i placed a hand over my mouth.

“sorry, i know we need to talk about it–” but then all i could think was blond hair, blue eyes. i turned bright red and readjusted in my seat to face forward. what was i thinking this has to stop.

i didn’t even notice armin had leaned in almost to whisper in my ear.

“i just wanted to say you acquired some great material for our project and i think we have more of a footing than most of these guys.”

i felt all the hairs stand up on the back of my neck but i turned anyway to face him. he was inches from my face leaning almost all the way over to my desk. i made eye contact with him and let out a breath at how pretty he was up close.

“listen, i know we got off on the wrong foot and you seem to have some personal vendetta against me, but this project isn’t going to be easy. if you’re willing to put in the effort, I think we have a shot at really going somewhere with this.”

i felt taken aback he took the words out of my mouth. i had been practicing many many versions of this to titan for the past week. yet he got to do it? that was just cruel.

“i was supposed to say that.” i turned back to my desk, but i wasn’t finished.

“so you think i had a personal vendetta against you and not the other way around?”

“i offered to do your entire project for you and you got irrationally angry, so yeah?” armin stated it like it was obvious. at his attempt at feigning innocence all i could see was red.

“well have you ever, i don’t know, maybe thought that people don’t want you to do their work for them? did you ever think of that possibility?” i threw my hands up.

armin laughed, “i don’t know,” he said mocking your inflection, “it’s never been a problem before.”

i could feel my blood boil. how could he be so matter of fact. as if his way was the true way and he was just waited for me to realize it. i moved closer to where i was almost in his face.

“well, it’s a problem now.” i spat back, “i don’t even understand what could possibly be your reasoning.”

armin seemed to turn on himself, beginning to look awkward again. he was quiet for a moment before responding.

“i like to work alone, i think this whole collaboration thing is redundant and i usually know more than my counterpart.”

i raised an eyebrow at him. does he do this to everyone? is he always this cocky know-it-all jerk?

[fangirlshrewt97]

Messy Mango Munching

How about that alliterative title? (Mostly exists cause I couldn’t think of an actual good title for this thing.)

Anyways, I feel like it’s been a while since I posted, so here is my latest piece. It is set in the same “timeline/AU” as my Watermelon Crush(er) fic but it is not necessary for you to read that one to understand this one. 

I got the idea for it from the intense discussion on Discord over Ram Charan’s fingers and how delicate his wrists/hands are...

Let me know what you think!

AO3 Link

///

Ram groaned as he laid back on the blessedly cold marble tiles of his living room as the AC tried its best to compete against the heat outside. He was already down to shorts and a simple t-shirt, but the weather was unrelenting.

"Anna..." Malli whined where she was on the couch above him, stretching her hand to bat at his hair. "I think I'm melting."

Ram hummed. "I think I am too."

"It's too hot."

"The news said the heatwave should be done by Monday." Ram tried to placate.

Malli whined louder. "Just in time for school. That's so unfair, this entire weekend has been so boring!"

Ram pushed himself by the elbows to roll over onto his stomach, crossing his arms underneath his chin and using them as a rest. "Sorry Chinni."

Malli flopped onto her side to look at him, a large pout on her face. "I was really looking forward to going to the lake with both of you."

"I know. We will find another weekend." Ram promised.

Malli scrunched up her face but nodded. "Fine."

Ram exhaled quietly, glad a tantrum had been averted. He closed his eyes , pushing back to rest his forehead on his forearm.

"Anna?" Malli questioned.

"Hmm?"

"Where did Annayya go?"

Ram peeked up at her with one eye. "No idea. I told him to stay. He better not have collapsed somewhere from a heat stroke because he was stupid."

Malli giggled. "It's so funny watching you scold Annayya cause only you and Amma do it."

His lips twitched as he tried to shrug from his position in the floor. "For someone so smart, he can be a real idiot sometimes."

Malli's giggles increased in volume. "He's said the same thing about you!"

Ram smiled wryly. "He has, has he?"

Before Malli could respond, the front door burst open, and a voice boomed through the apartment. "Bangaram! I’m back!" Bheem yelled as he peeked into the living room, beaming when he spotted them.

Ram pulled himself upright, sitting on his knees. "Where did you go in this weather?"

Bheem bustled into the room with a large bag that seemed to be filled with boxes. "The market!"

"It was open in this weather?" Ram asked incredulously.

Bheem shook his head. "No. But the nearby Mall complex was, and a few vendors had set up their shops near the entrance."

Malli wordlessly gestured for the bag, making Bheem chuckle as he pushed them to her. "And how is our little wildflower doing?"

He reached over to ruffle her hair, which she protested.

Bheem pretended to be wounded at Malli batting his hands away, collapsing in a heap next to Ram. He turned his head to look at the other man fully, eyes bright with his customary joie de vivre.

Ram's breath caught in his chest as in always did when faced with all of Bheem's attention. A flush rose in his cheeks, and he was helpless to control it.

The blush reddened further when Bheem grinned at its sight.

Bheem gripped his ankles where he was sitting cross-legged and leaned against Ram enough to peck his cheek lightly.

"Bheema." Ram chided quietly as looked surreptitiously at their temporary charge. As much as he loved how easy Bheem was with his affections, Ram was still unaccustomed to engaging in them in front of others.

Bheem rocked back with a soft smile. "Couldn't help myself Rama."

Ram looked away, flustered by the sincerity in that declaration.

Suddenly a squeal broke through the air. "Ice cream!!! Annayya you're the best!"

Malli said as she pulled out two cartons of ice cream from the bottom of the bag.

Ram sighed, looking accusingly at Bheem, who scratched his head and shrugged sheepishly.

Ram shook his head. "You're incorrigible. Go shower, you stink."

"Aww but Ram..." Bheem said as he reached back for the bag. "Look what I got for you."

He pulled out the last item from the bag, a medium sized carton.

Ram gaped when Bheem removed the lid to see the box filled to the brim with mangoes. "You..."

Bheem grinned. "The vendor sold them to me cheap because I got it in bulk. Plus it was hot and he was worried they'd go bad."

Ram grabbed one of the mangoes, bringing it up to his nose to inhale it. His eyes fluttered shut as the sweetness of the scent hit him. When he looked back at Bheem, the man had a hungry look on his face.

Clearing his throat he slapped Bheem's thigh. "At least go wash your hands and feet and change. And Malli. You aren't allowed to eat straight from the carton."

The girl pouted but closed the lid of the ice cream box. "Fine."

Bheem got up, dusting off his shirt. “I’ll get some cutlery.”

“No.” Ram said pointedly. “I’ll get the cutlery. You go get changed.”

Bheem gave him a salute, throwing a wink at Malli who giggled and walked towards their bedroom. Ram squinted after him. “I don’t know if I should be offended.”

“Anna! The ice cream will melt!” Malli reminded him.

Ram held up his hands in surrender and went to the kitchen, retrieving the necessary cutlery and bowls. He handed the scoop over to Malli, telling her to be careful as he grabbed a couple mangoes from the box. She agreed absently, completely focused on the treat before her.

Loki was going to kill them if they sent the girl back with a sugar high. Again.

Rolling the mangoes in his hand, he went into the kitchen, running them under the water before he began peeling the skin. He neatly sliced the fruit, and arranged them in a ceramic plate. He kept the large seeds to one side. He wasn’t a big fan of them, but Bheem was. Just like Chinna had been.

Ram sighed as he went back to the second mango. It was incredible how his ghosts would make themselves be remembered over the most innocuous of things.

Once done, Ram grabbed some tissues and a couple forks before going back to the living room.

Only to pause and gape at the sight of Bheem eating a mango already. Unpeeled. With his bare hands. And a beard full of mango pulp.

Ram felt his eye twitch.

Malli caught sight of him first. “Oops.” the yellow-handed little rascal whispered theatrically.

Bheem’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked over his shoulder, cheeks full of fruit. “Rama!”

Ram grit his teeth as the man gulped down his mouthful and grinned at him, beard stick with mango juice. “What. Are. You. Doing?”

Bheem’s brows furrowed. “…eating mangoes?”

“You’re making a mess Bheem! Look at your hands, you put them on the rug by accident, and they’ll be stained permanently. Not to mention your shirt!”

Bheem looked down at his T-shirt, wincing when he caught the dark stains against the blue fabric. “I’ll wash it!”

“Bheem!” Ram cried distressed as he walked over to the man, placing the cut fruit roughly against the ground, and silently thanking the stars he didn’t chip the ceramic.

Bheem sucked at his fingertips. “Come on Rama, this is how you’re supposed to eat mangoes! Give it a try once!”

Ram huffed. “No way.”

“It’s fun Anna!” Malli piped in.

Ram glared at her. “Do not side with him. He is stupid. We agreed on this.”

“Hey!” Bheem protested, making Malli duck her head to hide her smile.

Ram pointedly grabbed the fork he had brought and stabbed the cut fruit, neatly popping it into his mouth.

Bheem squinted at him. “Really Ram?”

Ram swallowed.

Bheem sighed. “Okay, okay, fine. How about a bet? You try one, just one mango the way I eat it. I am sure you will come to see the truth.”

Ram raised an eyebrow. “And if I don’t like it?”

Bheem’s mouth dropped open. “Ah…I’ll cut as many of these-”

“All of them.” Ram interjected.

“...all of them for you.” Bheem finished agreeably.

Ram squinted back at Bheem before nodding mechanically. Malli watched the whole scene play out with wide eyes, quietly sucking on her mango seed.

Bheem went and washed two more mangoes while Ram positioned himself comfortably, crossing his feet underneath himself. He grimaced as he caught sight of the mess Bheem had made. However this ridiculous bet turned out (and clearly he would be winning), Bheem was in charge of cleaning.

Bheem brought over the two mangoes in a bowl, thankfully peeled. He set them down before sitting himself.

Ram looked at the bowl like it was going to bite him. Bheem bit his lip to keep from laughing lest he annoy Ram into not even trying. “Come on Rama, just one. It won’t kill you.”

When the man still did not move, Bheem grabbed the other mango, and bit into it, half-suppressing the moan as the sweet taste burst on his tongue. “Thevere show good!”

Ram reached out to the leftover mango, wrapping his fingers around the fruit. He grimaced at the slippery texture, but brought it up to his mouth and bit into the tender flesh. He hummed at the taste, taking a bigger bite. He brought his other hand to hold the fruit more securely, and ate it as neatly as he could. A large drop of juice started to drip down his arm after a minute, and he instinctively brought his arm to his mouth, licking away at the juice, before popping one finger in his mouth to suck on it.

“Annayya!” Malli shouted, startling Ram. He looked up to see Bheem was staring at him with his jaw on the floor. Along with the mango he had been holding. Which was now soaking the rug just as Ram had feared. “Bheema!”

Ram’s shout had the intended effect, snapping the other man out of his revere. He yelped when he saw the fallen fruit, grabbing it and running to get a wet cloth. Ram pressed the tissues he had brought to the rug.

Together the trio cleaned up the mess as much as they were able, and finished off the cut fruit. Ram sent Malli off to wash her hands and change her clothes while he helped Bheem carry everything back to the kitchen. Once it was just the two of them, just bumped his shoulder against Bheem’s. “What was that back there?”

Bheem’s ears flushed red, furthering Ram curiosity. “Bheema?”

Bheem whined pitifully as he turned to stare at Ram. “You really have no idea Ram?”

Ram looked at him in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You!”

“Me?”

Bheem gestured wildly with his hands while whispering furiously. “You! You with your long fingers and delicate wrist just holding the mango so tenderly! And then licking at your arm? Sucking on your finger?!”

Ram’s blush matched Bheem’s by the end of the rant.

“It was indecent.” Bheem grumbled as he returned to washing the dishes.

Ram glanced around to make sure Malli was not in the vicinity before he leaned over to kiss at Bheem’s cheek. “I’m sorry. But does this mean we can eat fruit with cutlery now?”

Bheem jerked back to look at him. “Did…did you do that on purpose?”

Ram blinked innocently at him. “Bheem! Do I seem like that type of person?”

“I…” Bheem trailed off, before going to the sink, grumbling under his breath.

Ram hid his smile at his victory, returning to the living room to make sure all the mess was gone. He grabbed Malli’s bowl, swiping the last piece of mango and putting it into his mouth, licking his fingertips clean.

Served Bheem right, for what he had done to Ram with that stupid watermelon.

///

Tagging (If I missed out on anyone in the taglist, please let me know!):  @rambheem-is-real @budugu @bromance-minus-the-b @junebugyeahhh @hissterical-nyaan @obsessedtoafault @hufhkbgg @yehsahihai @rorapostsbl @fadedscarlets @alikokinav @chaotic-moonlight @rambheemisgoated @rambheemlove @jaganmaya @burningsheepcrown @lovingperfectionwonderland @rosayounan @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @thewinchestergirl1208 @dumdaradumdaradum @ronaldofandom @jjwolfesworld @jrntrtitties @kashpaymentsonly @jeonmahi1864 @zackcrazyvalentine @stanleykubricks @tulodiscord @teddybat24 @sally-for-sally @jadebomani @stuckyandlarrystuff @veteran-fanperson @ohfuckoffpls  @carminavulcana @boochhaan @doodlesofthelastpage @filesbeorganized @meownique @ssabriel

[regallibellbright]

Girl Genius Week Day 3: Crossover

@girlgeniusevents

Agatha was, in a word, baffled.

It’s not that she wasn’t used to massive bursts of light overtaking her vision in the middle of work, but usually, that was an explosion. And explosions weren’t usually because she was tightening the rivets on a pipe. (Except for that one time, but that had been a very different kind of explosion.) And explosions had never, in all her life, ended with her suddenly in an unfamiliar sewer system.

“... Huh.” Especially not a sewer system with a glowing white figure who had to be seven feet tall and had a voice that sounded like static electricity. “That’s new.”

--

Agatha hadn’t been any less baffled when the glowing figure turned into a young man about her age, dressed in some completely strange clothes, or when he led her out of the sewers into the city proper, which wasn’t just unfamiliar but alien.

Going to a coffee shop, at least, she understood.

“Let me get this straight,” said the proprietor, a man significantly older than either of them. She wasn’t familiar with the language, but she had no trouble understanding it for whatever reason. “You and Minamimoto were fighting - before meeting up with the Wicked Twisters later -”

“It gets it out of his system,” the young man interjected.

“- When suddenly there’s a bright light, he’s replaced with Mystery Woman here, and neither of you have any idea how?” the proprietor continued.

“I didn’t do it, if that’s what you’re getting at,” he said. “It’d be so boring without someone trying to kill me every other Tuesday.”

“Composers,” the proprietor muttered, shaking his head. Which was just another confusing thing about this whole confusing experience.

“My name is Agatha, by the way. Agatha Heterodyne. Not ‘Mystery Woman’.” They both looked at her. “It seems rude not to be introduced, under the circumstances.”

“Right. Well, we can’t be rude, can we?” the one her age said brightly. “My name is Yoshiya Kiryu, and this is Sanae Hanekoma. Don’t mind him, he just gets fussy over any major mysteries in Shibuya.”

“’Shibuya’? That’s where I am?” They both nodded. “That’s not anywhere in the Baron’s territory, I don’t think. I’m not even sure it’s part of Europa.”

“... The moon of Jupiter?” Kiryu asked.

“... The continent,” Agatha replied.

“Alternate universe. Of course that’s what it is,” Hanekoma said. “I have no idea why it didn’t drag her to this universe’s Europe, but clearly we’ve got a universe swap going on.”

“If you know what it is, clearly we can fix it,” Agatha said. “Are either of you sparks?”

The two looked at each other. “Sparks?” Hanekoma asked.

“The spark of genius? Of inspiration?... Madboys?” They both shook their heads, looking completely unfamiliar. “People who use science to bend the rules of reality? Go into a... another place, when they work sometimes?” She tried to keep the ‘science’ to a minimum, since they still looked bewildered.

“There’s more than one of you?!” Kiryu asked, eyes going wide suddenly. Hanekoma next to him looked just as unnerved.

“So you do have sparks!” This would be so much easier.

“Just the one you swapped places with,” Hanekoma said.

“Oh. That might be a problem, then.” She sighed. “Well, I’ll just get started, then. I’ll need all the scrap metal you can find, and...” A universe without the spark, that did sound dire, “and a pot of coffee.”

Kiryu sighed. “I’ll buy.”

--

Agatha then proceeded to build a bunch of Dingbots and a portal between universes. She also fixed the coffee machine! (”It wasn’t broken,” Hanekoma said.

Joshua took a sip. “I beg to differ, if THIS is what it’s capable of.”)

The coffee is of course inedible to anyone except Angels and the Wicked Twisters/Hachiko gang, who are all so traumatized that absolute coffee perfection just tastes like last Tuesday.

After Minamimoto got over the initial overwhelming nature of a universe where he was by no means unique, he helped Gil and Tarvek build the other side of the portal between universes. He’ll insist he’s never going back. Deep down, he enjoyed it a little.

[whipplefilter]

Indy 500 2024

The Indy 500 is an entirely different beast than any race I've ever been to. There are 300,000 in the audience; the bleachers all around the track and all the infield mounds are absolutely full to bursting.

I'm not usually a big crowds person, but I do actually really like being around a bunch of race fans, because amidst some people being racist/sexist, there is overall a strong shared love of something, and a lot of fanatical joy, and I love fanatical joy. But--and I'll preface this by saying that I'm admittedly not an Indycar fan, either, so I don't have the strongest leg to stand on here--there were a lot of Girlfriends indulging their partners at this race. Which is very polite of them, but they talked so much and it was all so insipid. And as much as I love participating in shared fanatical joy, I really don't like engaging in fannish activity if the people around me aren't equally interested. So these extremely chatty Girlfriends were a downer for me. That sounds gatekeepy, but I mean it in a way like, GURL, if you're going to do something for someone else, and you're not actually interested in it, you need to be genuinely open to the idea of being interested in it for a few hours!!! Be curious and thoughtful about a new experience!!!! Don't just say "they have to run 200 laps? Don't they get bored? I'd get bored."

Anyway, that aside, the big thing I noticed that is also going to sound self-evident and insipid is that they are going so fast. That video above will not do the live experience justice.

Like, if you watch a bunch of racing in a weekend, you can absolutely tell that there's a major speed difference between, say, ARCA, vs. trucks, vs. Xfinity/Cup. But even without direct basis for comparison, the Indy 500 is so fast. The difference between a 185ish NASCAR average and 220 is so fast. The difference between an Indycar's average speed on a road course and on an oval is so fast. I've been to a number of Indycar's road course races at IMS, and speed-wise, there's no comparison to Indy on the oval.

It's the point at which form and design become only blurs of color, and you know the car you're rooting for only through math (running order) and instinct. What you can see is only the impression of a car; it is sound and wind pressure and the ghost form of something moving toward and past you.

I will always be a stock car person, in terms of sound and shape, and they, too, feel like this when you're down at the bottom of the stands, by the catchfence, but it is very special to see these svelte arrows at a wider magnification, still just these impressionistic entities racing under the colors of the Brickyard. It's beautiful.

I was rooting for:

Kyle Larson (because I am me)

Roman Grosjean (for his wet cat energy)

Sting Ray Robb (because his name is Sting Ray Robb)

And for the win, was rooting for either Scott Dixon (because CGR) or Pato O'Ward (because of Arrow McLaren teammate solidarity). Which didn't come to pass--I am so sorry, Pato--but they certainly made Newgarden/Rossi work for it, and it was a great finish.

I'm really pleased with how well Kyle Larson did in his first Indy 500, and first Indy race. He mentioned before the race that he wasn't sure that he wanted to attack off the bat, because he'd never been through a start or restart in an Indycar, and he definitely got a lot of experience on that front in this race, LOL.

Starting 5th, he got dropped back to P14ish at the start, and spent some time there before working his way back into the T10 and ultimately back to P6, where he spent most of the race. A speeding penalty in the latter third of the race put him a lap down, though Will Power's caution allowed him the wave-around and he got a chance to lead laps of the Indy 500 for a while due to long-pitting, which I feel like was primarily for the fun and experience of it, and a little for the hope that maybe there'd be a lucky caution and he could pit under yellow and steal some of that track position. That wasn't to be, so the finish is more reflective of his one mistake than how he ran in the race overall. I think he did really well and I'd love to see him and Hendrick and Arrow-McLaren attempt the H1100 again, without the weather stress. <3

[monratarot]

Hello Moni

I'm not sure if your reading is still open or not. But if it's still available, I would like to submit my question.

I feel tired with my current job although I love it but I slowly get bored about it since my rest days were limited. Recently, I got a call for a job interview but I'm not sure if I should try it or not. If I pass this job interview, I might need to sacrifice my rest time again. My body feels weak, so I'm scared I can't handle the pressure later. I try to apply for my dream job but I feel anxious for the result. I am honestly stuck since my current job and two new job offers have their own pros and cons. All I want is a job that can let me have a proper rest time and be financially fine.

So, my question is "Important advice from my spirit guide regarding my career path?"

Hello, dear @vantaeries! Thank you for your patience and interest in my blog and your request.

Feedback is very much appreciated and if you consider tipping me, you can do so on my ☕️ko-fi.

Count of questions/requests and answers 28/30

Without wasting any time, let's get into your reading!

I can see that now is a time when you should separate your ideas and try to think clearly. Also, there is much interference going on right now and you should be ready for any opportunity that comes your way. Try not to be pulled into arguments and again, be ready to take action when you feel that the right opportunity for your had arrived. Rely on your intelligence because you are going to be blessed with all sorts of new work or new money-making possibilities. 

Great signs of success, joy, and abundance are on your way. Time to celebrate and to let your talent shine. Keep in mind that now you need to work(for yourself, and your dreams) and you need to have energy and be rested and ready for everything that is coming your way. 

There is a change that should be made and whatever is worth having will be saved and what is irrelevant for you will disappear from your life. There will be an end of something but this ending will bring you an automatically new beginning. Also, this situation has a sort of healing purpose or is now in your life to make you more powerful. Try new ways, try new options, try to eliminate what prevents you from moving forward or the universe will do that for you. Eradicate the old ways or old influences to make way for everything that is new. Changes are occurring in your life and after a period of feeling stagnant, there is renewal and a new burst of energy. When starting a project you will deal with new ideas and creativity. 

I can see signs of a career change and that you will end a business or a partnership. A change needs to be made because your current situation isn't allowing you to have enough time for your dreams(dream job, business, spending time with your friends).

So my dear, the universe is forcing you to make a decision, a change, and that's why you feel anxious right now. Things will come into place if you have the courage to make a change. Yes, it might not be right now the job that you want but this is a step you need to take in order to get where you want to be. 

Angel message: Hope indicates that the sun is about to come out in an area of your life. The angel wisdom reminds you that your spirit is immensely resilient and powerful, so keep faith in your dreams and visions. Remember the Universe wants you to have your heart's desire. It is simply waiting for you to believe you deserve it before the angels bring it to you. Do your part by deciding what you truly want then send out positive thoughts for the changes you seek and for the fulfillment of your wishes.

Affirmation: I am eternally optimistic.

Wish you only the best!🍀

Moni🧚‍♀️

[futurebird]

My mom hates fiction.

My mom is a really strange person. Not least of her oddities is that she insists that she "hates fiction" -- You'd think this would have upset me more growing up being a kid who was interested in nothing more than making up stories, the more fantastical and detached from reality the better, but it never really bothered me.

There is a kind of villain archetype in children's fiction: the evil one who hates imagination and probably also bright colors and laughter. My mom is nothing like that. Although she does like mathematics, and space documentaries better than any novel. When I still made her read all the stories I'd write she'd always sigh and say "I don't understand why you can't write about something that's real?" I'd try to explain that all the stories were as good as real to me. And I'd get nowhere.

A vivid memory: a long car ride down south, driving at night. We couldn't get the radio to work. No music, no local news. We decided to tell stories to pass the time and keep whoever was driving awake.

I just sat there bursting with ideas hardly able to listen to the other stories. (I'd like to think I could be more mature than that today, but... I can't make any promises.) Everyone told a story and then we got to my mom.

My mom tries to tell stories we already know like "Little Red Riding-hood" and everyone angrily vetoes this choice. "No no no you have to make up a story!" "I can't just... make up a story." "Yes you can. Just make one up. It could be about anything." "... I just can't. How about I tell you the story of David and Goliath--" "NOoooo! Make one up!" "I've never been able to do that."

As a child, I flat out refuse to believe this is true. I remember being angry that she was keeping her story a secret for no good reason. Because, in my mind everyone had a story resting on the tip of their tongue. Threatening to come out if invited or not!

Everyone has to have stories, right? Maybe my mom's stories just didn't seem enough like the goofy over-the-top fantasy and sci-fi tales everyone was telling in the car that night, so she didn't think we'd like them? Maybe. So we moved on to the next person but that always stuck with me. The idea of not having a story just bursting out of you... desperate to be told was confusing. And I wondered if that's really what it was. Everyone has to have stories, right? Maybe my mom's stories just didn't seem enough like the goofy over-the-top fantasy and sci-fi tales everyone was telling in the car that night, so she didn't think we'd like them?

Maybe growing up with 4 very artistic & creative siblings made her feel like giving up on such things: just focusing on her mathematics?

What are people saying when they say "I don't have an imagination?" or "I don't like fiction."

I don't think it's as simple as them being boring people, since the people who say this, in my experience, are far from boring, far from uncreative too. The creativity comes in other places-- but, its there. This is specifically about stories--

--or the kind of thing that people expect when we say "tell me a story."

Sometimes? I feel like I agree with my mom. I enjoy documentaries more than fiction-- a lot of popular fiction is so full of the world and all of the ugliness in the world. Mass media can get me down, the tropes, their predictability get me down. I try not to lean into this too much, I don't want to seem pretentious, after all. But, mass media can be very boring from a certain perspective.

It takes a kind of creativity to breathe life back into it. Like how people online fabricate all of these elaborate backstories and intrigue for characters in mass media. That seems like the only way to have fun with those stories. Maybe my mother just had a bad case of that?

Or maybe it's something else I still will struggle to understand.

So here I am fascinated by the claim of "having no imagination"

I need to write about it!

If you are such a person can you say a little about what's really going on?

[vounnasi]

Hi!! I know anon tags are fairly standard but I already got smiley over ‘my’ tag so I think I . Emotionally rebooted over my words getting put in your favorite tag.

I usually gift visual art as well. Not that it’s easier or anything, but I feel more sure of myself because I can choose to draw something like their OC or a piece of media they adore. You can technically write for them, too, but I worry about characterization enough for drawings. You can’t send images through anon, however, and I had a little line stuck in my head (smth like ‘my muse is a muse’). It goes that after someone’s name, you should describe them, right? I had to scrap that line because I didn’t like how it sounded with the rest but eh. I’m really glad you liked it !!

I forgot to include this with my last ask, but fanfic definitely sparked some bursts of writing for me ! Especially if I got quite attached to the work. On another note, I don’t have any serious questions about your OCs that wouldn’t most likely result in spoilers? I’m a big fan of knowing little sorta mundane (and maybe specific) things about characters though. Like tropes they’d really like IF executed well, their (maybe theoretically) favorite/least favorite household chore, anything dumb they did or wanted to do as a kid. I don’t know how much of those could actually spark thought or apply for your characters, but that’s the gist of it.

-🖋️ (as you’ve probably guessed)

i can't express how much of a happy surprise opening my inbox to a poem was that night, so it seems like we're even.

i agree with visual art being easier in the sense it prevents a lot of overthinking. there's a lot of work that goes into choosing a pose and all other elements, but the characterization of writing is something else lol. the culprit is likely my confident; i'm not as confident in my writing as i am my art and i'd hate to ruin someone's gift (though, if you're like me, receiving a "handmade" gift of any quality is great)

memo is my only public character at the moment, so to answer your questions with him: favorite tropes: really any trope that involves science or scientists and has them acting realistically (mad scientists, robots, new planets, etc). he's not big on fiction, primarily choosing to read nonfiction (scientific reports or the local news), so seeing something imitate his interests correctly is greatly appreciated. he'd also find found family cute favorite/least favorite chore: favorite is cooking (he's not great, but he likes giving to others) and least is dusting (it's boring) childhood shenanigans: he was extremely curious as a child, so the better question would be 'what dumb things did he not do' lol. the dumbest ideas would come from his sister though; she'd rope him in and by the end of the day he'd be stuck someplace he shouldn't be

[lucysweatslove]

11.26.2023 // “best $41.99 I’ve spent in a long time.”

Actual quote from Husband.

A couple days ago, I wanted to start playing Cozy Grove, so my husband OK’d the purchase. I really liked playing it, but I was kinda annoyed that it isn’t a “sit and binge” kind of game, as that’s my usual play style. I get kinda bored and impatient if I can’t progress quickly in games, but I also get bored and impatient when a game becomes too difficult or takes too long to do the next “step.” Cozy Grove seems to be meant to be played in shorter half hour bursts or so, and on a daily basis. I love how mellow it is, so I’m hoping I will get used to this play style.

Anyway, since I couldn’t sit down and binge play, I wanted another game that isn’t technically difficult and had cozy vibes. I remembered another game my best friend recommended to me: Disney Dreamlight Valley. So I brought up that I wanted it, and when we got home, he had surprised me with the ultimate version.

I’ve been binge-playing it (I have two more biomes to unlock, but I might focus more on realms than biomes now, idk). Apparently I have been just totally absorbed in my game- husband came into the living room and told me it was the best $41.99 he’s spent in a while because of how happy I seem, just to watch me do little happy wiggles.

In totally unrelated news, I’ve still been trying to unpack body stuff. Well, it’s related insofar that I’ve been looking at my Disney Dreamlight character a lot and feeling disconnected in some ways from her. I think having that period of time where I felt so disconnected from the concept of having a body, and having pretty significant feeling “right” while westing clothes spurred my to think about body related issues lately, like I mentioned before when I talked about feeling not 100% female but not masculine either. I do still feel comfortable with the identity/label of a demigirl, I think? And there is a weird, very positive feeling I get with she/they pronouns. All good established things.

I’ve also had the chance to talk a little more with other AFAB people who also feel less than totally connected with the concept of femininity/being female, some that also like he/him and some that are more part-female, part-agender/void, and some that may flux. Gender is truly such a range of experience and expression, which I love, and I like knowing I’m not the only person who has wrestled with “is this just normal regular cisgender bullshit, or is this a little deeper?” One person identities with demigirl and it was great to hear their experience especially since I had never talked with another person who shared the identity term

I think I am still struggling though with this idea of “is the agender part of me agender enough to be nonbinary in some aspect?” Part of this… it seems like a lot of enby people take “androgyny” which IMO is actually very much masculine coded in our society. As somebody who identifies very little with masculinity, if at all tbh, I don’t want to be perceived as masculine. The androgynous or less feminine looks that I enjoyed when I was thinner read more masculine on my body now, to the point I actually feel dysphoric even thinking about wearing them. I do generally like my dresses and appearing feminine, but some days I don’t want that perception either, or alternatively I know that I’d rather have that perception than masculine but I feel like I’m just playing the role of Lucy the Feminine to get through, you know? But it feels performative for others and not ME. Like, because I have a fat body, I have to present more feminine to be accepted by others. (Sometimes I do really like feminine coded clothing, I just wish it wasn’t socially gendered).

I think this is why I like scrubs so much btw. And band teas + jeans of some sort + a hoodie. To me they’re gender-less without being actually masculine.

[teyvat-temptation]

hi hello very glad to provide the brainworms hehehe

and that list looks So good. lemme just pick some food

neuvillette + nipple or genital piercings (I am actually so brainrotted about piercings you have no idea... it just hasn't come up yet since you do have a blog topic)

and alhaitham + a plug or vibrator to wear covertly

- ⚙️

Let me feed you well~ Also please feel free to share any brain worms, I'm always open to hearing new ideas! Anyone who has met Neuvillette will tell you, he isn't the type to have piercings. It just doesn't fit his personality at all. Even Furina would scoff and laugh at the thought of her dear Neuvillette sporting any sort of piercing, let alone something as scandalous as nipple or genital piercings! TW: voyeurism and unknowing participation in a sexual act.

Aside from the very few bedmates Neuvillette has taken over the years, no one knows about his little secrets. It's impossible to tell under his usual clothing, too many layers to make out anything at all, let alone the delicate golden bars that pierce his nipples.

Usually, it's something very simple yet eligant. Thin silver or gold bars, one a more adventurous day, maybe something with jewels embedded into the ends or a thin chain that connects them together.

Neuvillette finds that his nipples are extremely sensitive to any sort of touch. Some days even the feeling of his clothing rubbing against them is too much. So it's no wonder really, why he decided to pierce them all those years ago.

When he's alone, with no one to see, he often finds himself fiddling with the jewelry. Gently tugging and twisting, slowly working himself up too he's pinching and pulling, one hand working the sensitive nubs, the other tightly gripped around his cock.

It gets all the more exciting when a partner is involved. He has a collection of chains and jewelry to use, some purely for decoration, others for a purpose.

Give that chain that connects his piercing a good tug and he's mewling on his kneels like a bitch in heat. There's something so adorable about how the smallest touching over those pretty bars can send him into a tizzy. Give them a good suck and he'll cum on the spot.

~~~

Alhaitham enjoys his peace and quiet. Work is a task and a chore, something he has to do, no matter how much he hates it. He'd rather be reading.

So, when he stumbles across a rather interesting book just lying around on Kaveh's nightstand, he can't help himself. He's got to know what type of book Kaveh would bother reading. He expects it to be about architecture, perhaps a deep study of art techniques or the history of Inazuma's oldest buildings. He isn't ready for a long, smutty tale of two star-crossed lovers getting it on in the weirdest and worst places imaginable.

He puts it back, after reading the whole thing of course, and tries to forget about it.

Instead, he finds himself purchasing a small remote-controlled vibrator and violating Archons only knowing how many rules at the Akademiya.

The vibrator is tucked tightly up inside of him, positioned carefully in the most optimum location. Because Alhaitham doesn't half-ass things, he knows exactly where to put it to get the most of out it. He leaves the remote lying around near wherever he's working and waits.

It doesn't take long, people come and go from his office all the time, and it's only in the nature of those at the Akademiya to be curious. They see the odd little brightly colored remote sitting suspiciously atop Alhaitham's desk and pick it up.

"What's this?" they ask, and he plays dumb. He didn't know, of course, he'd been trying to figure it out all day. They start pressing buttons curiously, trying to figure out what exactly it was used for.

It's a struggle to keep a straight face. The vibrator starts up randomly and at different speeds and vibrations. Some of them are easy to ignore, little bursts on a slow setting before his visitor gets bored and leaves. Others are harder to quell, turning it up all the way and leaving his toes curling in his boots while his cock is hard and leaking in his pants.

"Well, hope you figure it out." they set it back down, usually not turning it off before leaving Alhaitham to his important work.