#and by “over” i am referring to my free time bc between writing and drawing and this i will have none of it

[starryeyedstray]

i've learned how to make gifs and i might regret it

[fruitcoops]

could you PLEASE write the fic where coops break the bed bc I would love to read how that went down

I'd love to! This is a reference to part three of this fic, and the prompt was combined with asks for another jealous Sirius and seeing Remus in his game day suit for the first time. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for smut (including blowjobs)

The lock slid home and Sirius’ knees hit the floor.

“Wh—okay,” Remus laughed as Sirius fumbled his belt open and yanked the zipper of his dress pants—fucking dress pants, is he trying to kill me?—as far as it could go without ripping straight down the middle. Slender fingers combed through his hair; some of the shock must have worn off, because he could feel a growing bulge under his cheek as he nuzzled the dip of Remus’ hipbone.

“Nobody looks at you like I do,” he said, licking a broad stripe up the front of Remus’ boxers. They were the nice kind, soft and tight—he wanted to tear them off.

Remus, for his part, looked both baffled and quite happy. “No, they do not,” he agreed, giving the back of Sirius’ hair a light tug. “And nobody looks as good as you down there.”

“You’re goddamn right they don’t.” Without further ado, Sirius pulled his dick out of his boxers and did his best to inhale it.

“Jesus fucking—” Remus’ hand slammed into the wall with a sharp gasp. His knee buckled, but Sirius gripped his thigh and pushed it against the wall. “Holy shit, baby, give me some warning.”

Sirius leaned back and let the tip slide out through his lips for just a moment, reveling in the slackjawed awe on Remus’ face. “No.”

“What did I do to deserve this?” Remus’ voice cracked as he thudded his head back against the wall and began lightly rolling his hips per Sirius’ request, huffing each time Sirius tightened his hold on his ass.

“Game suit,” Sirius managed as he slid off to bite the hollow between Remus’ hip and thigh, drawing a whimper from him. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, shouting mine, mine, mine with each pulse. “Game suit and those fucking fans.”

Remus’ chest heaved as he took him all the way to the base again, holding Sirius by the hair the way that always sent lightning down his spine. He spread his knees slightly on the floor and palmed himself through his pants without breaking pace. “Are you—ah—are you upset or happy? ‘cause this is great and I’m not complaining but—oh holy fuck.”

Warm, slightly sweaty palms shoved him away by the forehead. Sirius made a noise of protest that turned into a grumble when his mouth was finally empty, and he batted Remus’ hands away. “What?”

“Two seconds.” Remus’ pupils were dilated so far they almost hid the pretty amber that turned dark with lust. “You look so good down there, baby, but I’m gonna come and I’m really confused why.”

“I want to make you come,” Sirius explained, moving back towards him only to be guided away again. Obviously. “Remus!”

“What is the occasion?” he asked, a little desperate. “What did I do?”

Sirius sat back on his heels with an irritated exhale and held up three fingers. “You, in general. Game suit. Fans. May I please finish what I was doing.”

If possible, Remus looked even more lost. “The fans? What about the fans? Why do they entail an amazing blowjob?”

“Because.” Sirius pulled his pants down enough to suck a mark on the thickest muscle of Remus’ thigh. He was salty and sweet and perfect. “Because they were looking at you like they wanted to eat you, and that’s my job.”

“I—” Remus opened and closed his mouth twice, then leaned back against the wall with an aborted muss of his hair. “Yeah, okay. I kind of want to get you off too, though, ‘cause you look like sin on legs in that blazer and I would hate to waste it.”

Sirius Black, why did you commit yourself to someone so selfless. He took his mouth off the underside of Remus’ dick and hauled himself to his feet, wincing at the protests of his plane-tired muscles. “Then we’d better get upstairs.”

“Upstairs? But—” Remus’ eyes widened and a slow smile spread over his face and he pulled his pants back up. “Yeah, yeah, okay, yes, right now.”

“Right now,” Sirius confirmed, taking him by the wrist to hustle them both up to their bedroom. He gave Remus’ ass a solid smack before scooting around him to flop backward on the bed, tangling their legs together until he could wrap himself around Remus and kiss him like he deserved. Hard and sloppy and so dizzying Sirius had to catch his breath when they broke apart. “Now.”

“Huh?” Remus coughed, still ruffled and red-lipped.

Sirius took his face between his hands and felt Remus go weak on top of him. “Fuck me. Right now. I’m yours, and you’re mine, and you don’t do this with any of those people undressing you with their eyes today.”

I’m the one that’s going to be walking funny tomorrow, Sirius reminded himself as he expertly unbuttoned Remus’ shirt and shoved both that and the navy jacket off his golden shoulders. Not the moon-eyed women twirling their hair, not the chiseled men with their fucking smirks, not the people in the comments marveling at that pretty face. Me. Mine.

Remus made a funny sort of whimpering noise as he pushed Sirius’ shirt open and attached himself to his neck, biting and licking in equal measure as Sirius divested them both of their pants. He leaned back to catch his breath, but Sirius reeled him back in by the blue tie still around his neck and tangled his fingers in Remus’ tawny curls, crushing them together while he pushed his hips up for any friction and basked in Remus’ moans. Mine. Yours.

“Lube,” Remus said against his mouth, breathless. The temperature of the room had to be a hundred degrees, Sirius was sure of it; they were both sweating already, but he couldn’t let go of Remus for more than a second at a time. He needed the contact. Needed the feeling of drowning in his touch.

“Mine,” he said, nipping Remus’ bottom lip before letting him go enough that he could reach the nightstand.

“Yours,” Remus promised. He kept one hand splayed over the side of Sirius’ neck as they kissed; the other popped the cap off the lube and hoisted Sirius’ leg further to the side. “Ready?”

“Go.”

He threw his head back when two—two!—slick fingers pressed against him, opening him at the wonderful intersection between a snail’s pace and an uncomfortable sting. Remus moved his free hand down to hold Sirius’ hip; his weight pressed him into the mattress, and Sirius was sure that he would burn up at any moment.

“Yes,” he hissed through clenched teeth when Remus’ fingers found his prostate. His ears began to buzz as Remus rubbed the pads of his fingers over it in relentless circles, not pushing, just giving him enough friction to go mad with it.

Teeth skimmed his collarbone and Sirius shivered when wet lips trailed over his nipple. “Get on your stomach.”

“Wanna see you.”

“Sirius.” Remus’ hand wasn’t damp when he curled it around Sirius’ jaw and guided him to meet his eyes. “On your damn stomach.”

Sirius was not proud of the half-breath sound that escaped him, but he wasn’t ashamed either. He got on his damn stomach, and he did it with a smile. “What now?”

“Hold the headboard.”

He obliged and felt Remus run a hand down the curve of his spine before sliding two fingers back into him. Sirius arched, grinning at the waves of pleasure rolling through his stomach. “We don’t have games for two days,” he said, flipping his hair back to look at Remus over his shoulder.

Amber eyes roved up and down his body with an appreciative gleam before Remus pressed a kiss to the small of his back. “I know. Hold on, baby.”

A shiver ran through Sirius’ limbs; he flexed his fingers on the wood of the headboard and sighed when something much more blunt than a few fingers pushed inside him in a slow, continuous motion. “Tabarnak,” he muttered, mouth agape as Remus found his seat and pushed down even harder on his lower back. His spine was going to ache in the morning, and he didn’t care a bit.

“Why were you upset about the fans?” he asked with a slow roll of his hips that left Sirius shuddering. “You know I don’t pay attention to that.”

“Comment section,” he panted, gritting his teeth against a loud moan. “And I could hear them when you walked by.”

“What were they saying?”

“Everything.” Sirius’ thighs trembled on the hard thrust that followed. “Everything, everything—how good you looked. That suit, Remus, I can’t handle it.”

A beat of silence passed, save for the creaking of the bed beneath them. “Say it again.”

“You looked—”

“Not that,” Remus interrupted, sliding his hands along Sirius’ sides and back down his thighs. “You want me to be yours? Then say my name.”

“Remus,” he breathed.

“What was that?”

“Remus,” he repeated, a little louder. It came out as a whine and Remus bent down to bite the junction of his shoulder as he gripped the headboard with white knuckles.

“Again.”

The word was punctuated by a yank on Sirius’ hips paired with a thrust that sparked fireworks in his eyes. “Remus!” he almost shouted, half in shock.

“Atta boy.” Strong arms wound around his abdomen, pulling him impossibly closer to Remus’ front as he rocked in and out and stole Sirius’ breath from his lungs. Feather-soft lips traced from one shoulder to the middle of his back, leaving open-mouthed kisses in their wake that were cold against the flames in Sirius’ gut. His arms were already shaking.

“Remus,” he begged, though he didn’t even know what to ask for. He was so hard it almost hurt—spreading his exhausted knees to try and sink down onto the mattress did absolutely nothing to help him. “Remus.”

“No,” Remus ordered when he tried to take one hand off the headboard and stroke himself to relieve the pressure. Sirius let out something akin to a sob despite the distilled joy and pleasure running riot through him. “Headboard. Now.”

“I am.”

Remus’ breath was hot against his ear. “Don’t get bratty with me.”

Sirius had never come untouched before, but he wondered if it felt like this. Unfortunately, he was still painfully close to the edge and Remus insisted on dragging over his sweet spot every—fucking—time, so he was stuck in a horribly fantastic limbo that bent every cell to Remus’ will.

It was exactly what he had been after from the second the front door locked behind them.

“Come on, baby.” Remus made a low sound in his throat as Sirius clamped down around him at the nickname and upped his pace by a degree. “Come on, you can do it.”

“Quoi—what d’you want?” Sirius asked, dropping his chin to his chest with a moan.

Fingers wound into his hair and pulled his head up again, gentle but unyielding. There was never any pain when Remus was in charge, only the feeling of being entirely encompassed. It didn’t matter what position they were in—Sirius could be on the bottom, top, sideways, anywhere, and still feel cared for in every aspect.

“Fucking love you,” he mumbled, voice breaking as Remus’ hand slid through his hair to trail along his neck and wind around his chest.

He could feel the smile pressing into his shoulder blade as Remus left a mark there between world-shattering rolls of his hips. “Love you, too. You know you can come whenever, right?”

“Touch me.”

“Tell me three things and I will,” Remus all but purred into the arch of his neck. Sirius nodded frantically. “What color was I wearing today?”

“Blue,” he managed through clumsy lips. “Dark blue, ‘s perfect on you, oh.”

“Two: how many times have I worn that suit?”

Sirius stifled a moan in the crook of his elbow. “Once.”

“Last question.” Remus licked the salt from the crest of his shoulder and Sirius’ vision went for a moment; he gripped the headboard like it was his only anchor on earth. “Who is the only person in the world I will ever love like this?”

“Oh, fuck, me.”

A palm, broad and callused, wrapped around his shaft and gathered the precome that had been dripping onto the sheets for a glide so smooth Sirius thought he was dreaming. Then the world caught up to him at light speed and he was gone, tumbling over the edge with a shout and throwing his weight forward while Remus guided him through every ripple down his back as he reached his own peak.

Crack—crunch.

Sirius yelped as his knuckles hit the wall, pulling back on instinct despite the fact that he had nowhere to go but down. Remus cursed into his shoulder and they hit the pillows in a mess of limbs and sweat; Sirius pulled his hands to his chest as the smarting pain began to fade. “Ow,” he said, bewildered and pitiful.

“Oh, oh, oh.” Remus pulled out with a slight wince and carefully took his hands, pressing kisses over the reddened skin before horror overtook his face. “Did I—was that sound your hands?”

“No,” Sirius said quickly, kissing his flushed cheek. “It wasn’t me. I think…”

Remus blinked at him. “Did we…”

“That was the headboard.” A smile tugged the edges of his mouth until Sirius gave in and began to laugh, shifting back onto his stomach for a proper look. Sure enough, the wooden board at the top of their bed was both sideways and several inches further down the wall than it had been when they started their venture.

“Oh my god,” Remus spluttered, still laughing as he tried to pull it back into the right spot. “Jesus, this thing is heavy.”

“We broke the bed,” Sirius snickered. It was so beyond unbelievable that he couldn’t help it. “After all this time, it finally gave in. Mon dieu. I can’t…I don’t even know where to start.”

“We broke the headboard,” Remus corrected with a grin. “Well, you broke it.”

“If you try to pin this all on me—”

“I had you pinned pretty well a minute—”

“Remus John Lupin—”

They dissolved into laughter, bordering on hysteria as they fell back onto the sheets. The headboard groaned at the impact, setting off a whole new round with no hope of letting them catch their breath.

“So,” Remus managed once his lungs were functioning again. He quirked an eyebrow at Sirius with a troublemaker’s smirk. “The suit?”

“The suit,” Sirius huffed, shaking his head. “I thought I was going to die.”

“Now you know how I feel all the friggin’ time.”

He sighed through his nose and stared upside-down at the cracked wood. “We’ll need to replace that.”

“Mhmm. And never tell the guys about it, ever.”

Sirius ran a hand down his face. “They’d bring it up at our funerals.”

“Is there a way to get just the headboard? Do we need to buy a whole new frame?”

His jaw crackled as he yawned, wrapping both arms around Remus to drag him over for a snuggle. “Those questions can wait until tomorrow. Or at least after a nap.”

“How about a shower and a nap?”

“Definitely a shower,” Sirius agreed, burying his face in the bend of Remus’ neck. “After a nap.”

“Come on, cuddlebug,” Remus groaned, giving him a halfhearted pull. “You hate the feeling of cum on your legs.”

“I just broke a plank of wood with my bare hands,” Sirius mumbled into his soft skin. “I can handle a few extra minutes of cuddles.”

[fixing-bad-comic-art]

so i got a notification from pintrest. exciting way to start a post. whatever, it was one of those "greg land, some superhero, and more. looking for some inspiration?" type pop up things bc i haven't gotten aroumd to disabling them yet. and that unfortunately got me thinking about gregward and about that reblog from yesterday, and about landslys art in general and i just Am in a weird mood and feel like ranting,

Anyways. The Thing About Gregathy Lando that i just dont grock, is not that he traces but its that he is so Comically Bad at it.

like here's the thing, tracing refference images is a time honored artist tradition. like obviously theres a difference between using a picture you took yourself/ is royalty free/ or that you paid royalties for/ bought/whatever for tracing and using something you dont have the license too, but we're not talking about that rn. Yes i know Landrover steals pretty much all of his reffos without paying copyright, but that is a Whole other can of worms.

Gregworth my boy, just Sucks at it. its clear he doesn't know how the forms are supposed to work, or how to pick good references, or how to combine references to make a pleasing composition, so you just end up the Jankiest, repetitive, nonsense and its just! Frustrating.

examples taken from this women write about comics article by Paige Allen

bc he doesn't know where to put his lines, or where to exaggerate, or where to really stick to the anatomy everything is so stiff and Lifeless despite being drawn From Life. it just Bugs me bc heres the thing! tracing is a skill and its not a difficult one. Literally every drawing ive made in the last year or so Has Been Traced.

I just used a Poser instead of stealing pics and learned how to actually make it look passable. because the thing is, tracing is Way faster than sketching everything out. its a Good technique to learn if you need to crap out on fucktillion drawings an hour. and its Genuinely something i think every artist should know how to do. it helps you study the actual form of what your drawing etc etc im not in the mood to be helpful. and before anyone says its different bc he does comics, Ive Done comics with this method to. it streamlines shit to an extraordinary degree

anyways. bitch session over.

tldr: tracing isnt bad, greg land is just bad at it.

[howtosingit]

I haven't had a chance to fully dive into all the goodies last nights video has produced.. nor have I had a chance to read all your thoughts which you know I crave love . I was dumb and watched 3 911 episodes last night ignoring my ig notification that ronen had shared anything so then I had to go to bed bc of work and work has been crqzy. But anyways I just wanted to hear some of your thoughts and say Tarlos officially fried my brain and I really want to write in the spare time I don't have bc of work 🙈🙊 their soft smiles, kisses, possibly meeting the fam, their date (and let's be honest Carlos was hot as fuck sauntering up to the bar announcing he was tks boyfriend... you know someone got laid that night) sorry not sorry 🙈

Anyways hit me with your thoughts when you're free if you want ❤

LISTEN, LAUREN. I am always up to share my thoughts because they never end and they just keep coming and I have to unleash them somehow or I will definitely explode.

My brain was just like, ALL CAPS SCREAMING, for about 7 hours yesterday, so I’ll leave you to explore that hot mess on my blog if you want. 😅 But, in the time since, I’ve seen a lot of discourse and stuff about the moments that we’ve seen, so I’m going to use this ask as an opportunity to weigh in on everything under the cut...

FIRST, CAN I JUST SAY that at the moment that I am writing this post, we are still trending at #5 and we’ve been in the 4-7 range for at least the past, like, IDK, 18-20 hours maybe?! I LOVE THIS FANDOM AND HOW WE LOSE OUR SHIT AT THE SMALLEST THINGS

Okay, so let me go through this thing and comment on the parts, and then give some general thoughts below:

LOVE that this is a promo entirely about the LGBTQIA+ characters and characters of color. Not exactly surprised that they still tried to put as much Rob Lowe in it as possible (that’s Fox/the writers’ M.O. it seems - to squeeze Rob/Owen in whether he fits or not). Some of his comments were a little awkward, I thought (referring to Paul’s trans storyline as “stuff” makes me go 😬), but whatever. He’s not the point of all of this, so that’s the last I’m going to talk about him.

TOMMY VEGA. I AM READY TO STAN. I love Gina Torres, I already love how much heart and soul she is giving just in these quick peeks, I cannot wait to see her in action!

Also let me use this moment to say that while it’s obvious I’m not getting my Grace + Carlos friendship (that’s fine if it stays in fandom, I’ll live), I’m SO GLAD that her and Tommy are gonna be friends! One promo mentioned that Judd has known Tommy before, so it would not surprise me if they’ve been friends for awhile. LOVE THAT.

SPECULATION: This gives me a good time to just throw out a theory that I’ve been thinking about... We know Owen and Gwen are hosting Tommy at their place for a backyard dinner. I assume her husband may be there as well, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Judd and Grace are there too. 

I ALSO would not be surprised if this is when one of the nights at Carlos’s place happens, like a parallel of the two dinner parties. That at least keeps every main character involved in both locations. We shall see though.

So this gathering at the firehouse seems like it’s going to be a pretty big scene, probably for episode 1. I think everyone’s gathered so that Owen can announce he’s in remission (we’ll hear him tell TK first, which is the hug that they share earlier in the trailer, I think). 

But this gathering also includes a Tommy/Grace moment, a Tarlos moment, the others doing other things kind of moments. It’ll serve the same purpose as a lot of the season 1 bar scenes, and I’m so glad they’ve moved those to the firehouse. I want that place to really start feeling like a home this year. 

(I want all of the locations to feel a little more grounded and special, if I’m being honest. Like, I’m SO GLAD that Carlos’s place is going to be a key location this season.)

There are now two instances of Carlos being next to Gwen (standing next to her while Owen makes an announcement and now sitting next to her at the table), so we better get some dialogue between them or I WILL BE SO UPSET. I WANT GWEN TO STAN CARLOS AS MUCH AS I DO.

EVERYONE IS SO CUTE IN THIS SCENE OKAY

TARLOS TARLOS TARLOS TARLOS

Like, WTF is TK’s face in this moment?! He looks so shy and bashful but also so happy and mushy and soft and in love. And then the way that Carlos softens because of how soft TK look?!?! WHAT IS GOING ON?!?! WHY AM I CRYING.

Seriously, I have to know what they’re talking about though to make TK fucking melt like that. 

Emergency stuff blah blah blah

TARLOS KISS TARLOS KISS TARLOS KISS TARLOS KISS

IT’S SO FUCKING CASUAL AND PERFECT AND NATURAL AND LITERALLY JUST LIKE A “I came over to grab this food from you but since I’m here I might as well grab a kiss because I can’t help myself”

AND LIKE... Carlos just leans right into it?!?!?!? like it’s something that they do all the time?!?!?! WTF I LOVE THEM

Mateo watches this kiss and kind of looks like he was talking to Carlos, TK, or both of them, so I love that they’re like in the middle of conversation but still like “wait let me kiss my bf because he’s close by and so hot and I love him” SCREAMING

ALSO LET ME BE THIRSTY BUT CARLOS’S SHOULDERS AND BACK?!?!?! TK’S FUCKING ARMS?!?! I’M SO DAMN GAY

Speaking of arms: this rando bartender at the wrestling match (so Covid doesn’t last long on Lone Star, I’m assuming like 2 episodes maybe?) -- I love that they tried to put him in a tight shirt and make him look like a possible threat or something and I’m just like 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

IT’S LIKE THEY’VE NEVER SEEN CARLOS REYES BEFORE

AND THEN THE FUCKING GREEK GOD HIMSELF SAUNTERS UP WEARING A TIGHT FUCKING POLO - CHEST OUT, ARMS JACKED, HANDS IN HIS POCKETS TO DRAW ATTENTION TO HIS DICK AND I’M JUST SCREAMING AT THIS POINT

BOYFRIEND 

BOYFRIEND

BOYFRIEND

But, like, seriously, there is no comparison. Carlos is fucking Hercules over here and this no-name wannabe boyband member could be a sand-colored rock for all I care. 

YOU CANNOT COMPETE WITH CARLOS REYES, DON’T EVEN TRY IT

I do feel like these two clips (the calendar line and then Carlos’s line) are spliced together but they might not be back-to-back, and I would love to see how TK responds to the flirting before Carlos comes over

HIS FACE IS KILLING ME THOUGH WHEN CARLOS COMES UP

BLESS RONEN

I feel like I *think* I know what he’s thinking, but I also feel like I don’t. Certainly, the scene seems to end with them both smiling and happy, but I wonder if there will be a conversation about jealousy or something?! IDK BUT THEY’RE DEFINITELY GONNA TALK. I NEED TO KNOW WHAT THEY SAY.

Someone posted how happy TK is going to be to have a boyfriend who is committed enough to him to be jealous, unlike Alex who didn’t care and cheated on him. I certainly think this could be a great moment for them to establish what this new relationship means for them, and I’m excited to see what they writers have planned.

I JUST LOVE CARLOS REYES THOUGH OKAY I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

How many times is Fox gonna use that clip of him holding his gun though? We get it, he raises his gun. I’ve seen it like 7 times at this point. 

I’m not complaining, really. I’ll take his face where I can get it.

LOVING the Marjan clips

LOVING the Grace/Judd clips

LOVING the Paul clips

I LOVE ALL OF MY FAVES

CANNOT WAIT TO SEE THEM DEVELOP THIS YEAR

Hearing Rafa talk about using his voice and speaking for his community just slaughters my heart, I love this man so fucking much and I’m so happy to be discovering him at the start of his career because he is going to go on to do big things and make the world a better place with his positivity and light and love and I’m so excited to follow him on that journey I just love him okay

ALSO THE MAN LOOKS SO FUCKING GOOD WHAT ARE THOSE ARMS I WANT TO DIE

THE FARMER’S MARKET SCENE

Are they shopping for food for the dinner party they’re hosting?! Maybe!

WE MEET SOME OF CARLOS’S PEOPLE

There is so much speculation surrounding who these two people could be, and I’ve heard some super interesting theories about Carlos’s backstory.

I’m gonna be basic though and stick with the fact that I think they’re his parents.

AND IF THEY ARE HIS PARENTS, THEY SEEM SO HAPPY TO MEET TK.

His dad/the man, like, shakes TK’s hand with so much gusto, a giant smile on his face

And Carlos smiles as he hugs his mom/the woman, and she’s smiling too

THEY ALL JUST SEEM SO HAPPY

I CAN’T BELIEVE WE MIGHT ACTUALLY BE AVOIDING THE HOMOPHOBIC PARENTS STORYLINE COMPLETELY

Y’ALL DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW MUCH I DO NOT WANT TO SEE THAT TRAUMA

I mean, I don’t know for sure, we’re going to have to wait for the episode. But god, do I hope for it with every fiber of my being. I want their trauma, if they have to have it, to be separate from their sexuality. They’ve done so well with TK so far, I want the same for Carlos. Let the story be fresh, let it be different, LET US HAVE DIVERSE GAY STORYLINES.

Y’ALL THE TEAM HANGING OUT AT CARLOS’S PLACE

I CANNOT

I’LL NEVER BE OVER IT

HE’S PART OF THE CREW. HE’S PART OF THE FAMILY.

IT’S EVERYTHING THAT I COULD EVER WANT FOR HIM OKAY

I’M SO FUCKING HAPPY

THEY ARE SO HAPPY

WE ARE ALL SO HAPPY

I’M CRYING

I’M DEAD

LOL that was a lot but so was this promo.

Now, some somewhat sobering thoughts...

We all know season 1 had a real diversity and inclusion problem, we’ve seen the numbers. We also know that during the promotion for season 1, we ALSO got a diversity promo focusing on the LGBTQIA+ characters and the characters of color. I love that Fox wants to highlight the incredibly talented actors and characters that they have, but all of it means nothing if they are still tokens on the show. 

I have full faith that season 2 will be better, that some of the justified anger and frustration made it back to the writers and they internalized it and then make some real changes. However, because we did get a diversity promo last year, I have to remain a little cautious. This promo doesn’t really mean anything and if, somehow, season 2 goes the way season 1 did, it will be another instance of Fox using the characters of color to draw people in without actually giving them screentime and development. Which is a HUGE PROBLEM. So... I’m very excited and very hopeful, but also slightly wary.

Similarly, I’ve seen people say that they’re worried that, while there is so much Tarlos in this promo, this might be all the Tarlos we get this season. I don’t share the same concern, but like the diversity issue, I understand where that comes from. There was a lot of Tarlos in season 1′s promos and, as we now know, they got screentime in episodes 1-3 and then virtually nothing until episode 10. 

I kind of lost track of the filming schedule, but I think before they went on the holiday/extended hiatus, they filmed the first 5-6 episodes? Maybe? And we know that we’re getting 14 total this season, which means it’s possible that they haven’t even filmed half of them. 

I think the footage that we got in this promo is from, like, 3 or 4 episodes max. Definitely episodes 1 and 2, maybe 4, possibly 5. The crossover is episode 3 and I am still expecting to barely see Carlos in it - I just think it’s going to be very fire heavy one, especially with the members of the 118 coming in to steal screentime. He could be in one scene, maybe? Idk, I’m just not expecting a lot from that episode. 

And sure, we could get a lot of Tarlos at the beginning and then nothing for a whole string of episodes, but that also just doesn’t seem possible with the way they’ve restructured the relationship dynamics. Like, it really does seem like Carlos is going to be a part of the family this year, so I think it will be easier to include him and harder to delete him entirely. (Please let him at least appear in every single episode, I don’t want to be so fucking angry like last year.)

Also, if all of these scenes stay in the episodes, we are getting AT LEAST 4 Tarlos conversations - the firehouse, the wrestling match, the farmer’s market, the flirting by the truck - and other scenes of them being in the same space as part of a group. I’m sure there will be even more that we’re just not seeing. I’m very optimistic for this season and for the Tarlos content, and I really don’t think we’ll see the front-loaded imbalance that we saw last season. I think when they get back to filming the later episodes, there will be a good amount of Tarlos content in those, too!

I will say, though, that I am worried we’ve just seen the only kiss that they’ll share in the first 5 or so episodes. I’m just so used to network TV placing a limit on gay kisses, and Idk how much that has really changed in recent years. I truly love this kiss, and I hope there are more, but I would not be surprised if we end the season having only gotten like 2-3. (PLEASE LET ME BE WRONG.)

ONLY TWO MORE WEEKS UNTIL WE FIND OUT FOR SURE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[lamortexiii]

Cryptic Mystic: What’s Your Sign?

Many of us are fascinated by astrology and all things outer space related. The great unknown that is beyond the stars has been a hot topic for centuries. But, how did the zodiac begin? What makes astrological signs and the alignment of planets and stars so magical? Is it truly prophetic? Does your sign define your personality, past, present, and future? Or is this simply another product of the Barnum Effect?

So I’ll start by asking the obvious: “what’s your sign?” I’m a Leo through and through. While I’m skeptical about the claims of some astrological signs and their relation to my life on a daily basis, I do believe there is some truth here - as is with most things. This topic is one that I have been wanting to write about for some time now. I have always found outer space, stars, planets, etc. to be fascinating. As a child, I remember laying in the grass and watching the stars above me. In my little valley in the forest, I could see so many stars that wouldn’t be visible if I were in the city. I am so thankful I had that childhood experience of growing up somewhere where I could truly connect with nature and the simple things around me that most take for granted on a day-to-day basis. I still stargaze to this day, but I can’t see near as many as I once did in my childhood forest valley home. I’ve seen a plethora of shooting stars throughout my lifetime, two meteor showers, two solar eclipses, and plenty of unidentified objects that were likely satellites… or were they…?

One time when I was driving home from work late one night I saw something that befuddled me. As I drove down the winding 2 lane highway in the darkness of the night I saw what appeared to be a helicopter hovering right above the trees. Now, this area I was driving through was rural. There are few houses in those woods, but there are some. The backroads leading to the site where the “helicopter” was hovering are seldom traveled, especially this late at night. I began processing the event in my mind and questioning if it was a helicopter, why would it be hovering so low and what exactly would it be doing in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night. It just didn’t make sense. I thought about logical explanations and could only come up with one. There is the slim possibility that someone driving on one of the many backroads in that area may have got into an accident and was getting airlifted to a hospital. I’ve seen it happen before on backroads near there. Aside from this idea, I had nothing. By this point, I had obviously slowed down so I could get a better look. Hell, there wasn’t any traffic so it’s not like I was worried about causing an accident or anything. As I looked closer I noticed it wasn’t a helicopter at all. There were about 4-6 large bright lights shining down below the area that the craft was hovering over. The circumference of this craft was much wider than a helicopter - more circular. The lights were far too big and far too bright. Whether it was fear, shock, tiredness, or my stomach growling, I continued to drive on and leave the peculiar scene behind. Now, I know this has nothing to do with astrology or zodiac signs, but it is an interesting story nonetheless. 

In reference to zodiac signs, I find that descriptions of a Leo with my particular birthdate are genuinely pretty accurate when describing my personality and conflicts. However, the daily horoscopes are definitely not accurate in my experience. I will say that when I read/listen to them I try to apply something positive from the reading to my daily life. I engage in a deeper thought process and practice mindfulness throughout the day, keeping that positive focus within my mind on the positive message I am supposed to be implementing into my day. I have also found that compatibility readings have been somewhat inaccurate as far as certain zodiac signs getting along or not getting along with other zodiac signs. The biggest obvious red flag for me is how many different sources there are. And guess what? They all say something different on the daily. If zodiac signs and horoscopes are supposed to be accurate, then why don’t all individuals who report them online all say the same thing - or at least something similar?? To play devil's advocate here, I did say earlier that I believe there is some truth to all of this, which is why it interests me so much and also why I believe in this stuff to a degree. There is a lot of magical and wondrous history to unpack in regards to the zodiac and horoscopes. So, let’s jump right in, shall we?

Interesting fact: the word zodiac is derived from Greek terminology meaning “circle of little animals.” We’re a circle of little animals - cute visuals there, eh? Hieroglyphs in Egypt dating as early as the 14th century BC were found to contain a circle of decans (constellations) depicting something that looks a lot like the constellations and zodiac symbols that we know today. In total there were 36 decans found within the temple.

During the first half of the first millennium, Babylonian astronomers created our modern zodiac. They also mapped the previous constellations that were seen in the Egyptian hieroglyphs but continued to add more as they were discovered. In the last half of the 5th century, the Babylonian astronomers divided the many constellations into 12 equal "signs” to represent the 12 months of the year at 30 days per month. Each sign contained 30° of celestial longitude, thus creating the first known celestial coordinate system. According to calculations by modern astrophysics, the zodiac was introduced between 409 and 398 BC and probably within a very few years of 401 BC. Unlike modern astrologers, who place the beginning of the sign of Aries at the place of the Sun at the vernal equinox, Babylonian astronomers fixed the zodiac in relation to stars, placing the beginning of Cancer at the "Rear Twin Star" (β Geminorum) and the beginning of Aquarius at the "Rear Star of the Goat-Fish" (δ Capricorni). Due to the precession of the equinoxes, the time of year the Sun is in a given constellation has changed since Babylonian times, the point of vernal equinox has moved from Aries into Pisces. 

You’ll be pleasantly surprised, intrigued, or disgusted to know that all of this does have some roots within religion. The Hebrew Bible shows knowledge of the Babylonian zodiac. E. W. Bullinger noted that the drawings found in the book of Ezekiel were quite similar to the middle four quarters of the zodiac (Lion/Leo, Bull/Taurus, Man/Aquarius, Eagle/Scorpio). You read that right, Scorpio is noted as being an eagle - not a scorpion. Some say that the twelve tribes of Israel are correlated with the zodiac signs found within the Hebrew 12 month calendar. There is an argument that the position of the Israelic tribes around the Tabernacle from the book of Numbers correlates with the exact order of the zodiac, with Judah, Reuben, Ephraim, and Dan representing the middle signs of Leo, Aquarius, Taurus, and Scorpio, respectively. It is shocking how I have heard religious people in modern times talk about how this is all a bunch of garbage, even though some of this is literally correlated with items from the Bible.

To explain daily horoscopes and the connection between the stars, planets, and our zodiac signs, you must engage in a bit of math (yuck). When planets and constellations of the zodiac would align, the Babylonian astronomers of that time would note the experiences that people had and found similarities. These experiences, along with the position of the Earth, Sun, Moon, and constellations and the positions relative to the zodiac signs were stored within a catalogue. This went on for several years and is essentially what began our modern-day daily horoscope. However, it is my personal opinion that a lot of these “professionals” who have their own magical websites where you can get a free daily horoscope, just make shit up to sound interesting. That is obvious by the previously mentioned differentials found within each page. I encourage you to do a quick Google search and you’ll see what I’m talking about. This ties into the belief that the Barnum Effect is in play here. You’ll remember the Barnum Effect from last month's blog. If you haven’t read the June 2021 blog The Imaginarium of Barnum, I suggest you head there next to get a deeper understanding of what I’m talking about before you continue reading. Much of what is broadcasted in daily horoscopes, zodiac sign descriptions, and even within mediumship and tarot readings is full of extremely vague generalities. Because the information is presented in such a vague and generalized way, it then becomes an instance where anyone could apply any of the information to their life in some way. So as you can see, there is some psychological manipulation at play here. Now, I am not saying this is true for all who present the information. I will say that there are A LOT of shams out there. I have seen far more fake sites/readings/etc. than I have seen legit ones. If I had to give a percentage from my personal experience, I’d say about 85% of what I’ve seen is bullshit. But you choose what you believe at the end of the day. I just ask you to keep an open mind and a wise eye about you when scanning the web for horoscopes, zodiac information, tarot, and mediumship. 

All of this information is interesting to stew on within your mind. I hope that you learned something new. I know I did when I was researching this topic for the blog. The religious ties were the most surprising thing to me. What did you find most interesting? Drop a comment under the blog on Tumblr or under the Instagram post for this month’s blog and let me know. Tonight if you are able, take a look at the stars and see if you can find the constellations. The plethora of shapes within the brightest stars are brilliant to gaze upon. Who knows, maybe you will find your zodiac constellation. Maybe you will depict a new constellation on your own by combining different combinations of stars. Or maybe you’ll see something that you can’t explain…

Cryptic Mystic Blog by PsychVVitch @psychvvitch

www.LaMorteXiii.com

[monellabella]

The Starving Games ft. Freddie Weasel: AKA Pt. 1 of my Hunger Games x Harry Potter crossover series (OC x Fred Weasley)

Warnings (None of these are really graphic, but feel free not to read if any of these things make you uncomfortable!!): Blood, knives, knife wound, character death(s), severe injury mention (lost limbs), dead animal mention?? (a rat) 

This is the first fic I’ve ever written! I got the idea from a post I saw from @wand3ringr0s3 Comments and criticism are GREATLY appreciated and it’d be really cool to get some feedback on my writing style!! 

a/n: Also if I do write more, this is gonna be an enemies to allies to lovers situation bc I <3 angst 

Tagging my mutuals: @ourloveisforthelovely @darthwheezely @amrtxntia  @anchoeritic @kellsslut @whizboingies @beiahadid

Darkness. Pure black. I hear noises coming from somewhere. Muffled. Echoing through the endless void around me. The noises become louder. Someone is talking. The more I listen, the louder and clearer they get. Clear enough that I can almost make out the words. Suddenly, everything goes deafeningly quiet. My ears start ringing. But then, a single voice echoes through the silence, “Seph?”. I recognize it immediately. “Maeve?” I call out. “Seph? Is that you?” she responds, her voice shaky with fear. “Yes, yes, Maeve, it’s me. Where are you?”

“I don’t know.” she responds, panic rising in her voice. “Seph, I’m scared.”

“I know. I know, kiddo,” I swallow hard, “Hey. Hey, listen, I’m gonna find you, okay? Just stay calm.”

My heart is racing. I look around for some sort of clue, but nothing but complete darkness surrounds me. I tentatively reach my hand out in front of me. My fingertips graze something. Something cold. I take a step forward and reach out again. My hand finds what feels like a thin chain. I roll it around in my fingers before pulling down on it. The space is immediately flooded with blinding white light. I blink a few times to adjust my eyes to the sudden brightness. I’m at home; a tiny one room flat that I share with my mother, sister, and our cat. Except it’s empty- no furniture, not even a door. I see my sister standing a few feet in front of me, her hands bound together by a thick rope. “Maeve!” I rush towards her. “Seph!” she cries. As I reach out to hug her I’m pushed back by an invisible force. I look up and there she is- standing inside a giant glass dome. I take a few steps back, trying to register what I’m seeing.

“Shall we draw the names?” I whip my head around to see a woman in a magenta frock standing on the other side of the room. Her dress is covered in so many frills and flounces that she takes up half the flat. On her head is a ridiculous blonde wig that must add at least two feet to her height. Her face is covered entirely in white powder, with her cheeks overly rouged, and her top lip painted magenta to match the dress. She looks like a very posh clown.

“I-I’m sorry what?”

She laughs airily, “The names, darling. Surely you remembered?”

“Remember what?”

She tsked then pulled out two smaller versions of the glass dome from the frills at the front of her dress. They each had a small slip of paper in them. “Go on. Pick one.” Her voice was incredibly high-pitched, and she spoke with a capitol accent. I stepped towards her and hesitantly reached into the bowl in her right hand. I unfolded the slip of paper, ‘Maeve Whitlock’. I stared at the name in confusion.

“I don’t understand.”

“Will you take her fate as your own?”

“What do you mean? What fate?”

The woman let out another laugh, this one high and cold, it echoed around the entire room and caused the floor to shake. Suddenly, I heard Maeve call out to me, “SEPH!” I looked back to where she was in the dome. There was a dark, shadowy figure standing behind her, holding a knife to her neck. Her hands and feet were bound to a small wooden chair, and her mouth was now gagged with a dishcloth. I ran towards the dome, panic rising further in my chest. “MAEVE!” I shouted desperately. She looked at me fearfully, tears rolling slowly down her cheeks. I banged and kicked and rammed my body at the glass so hard, I should’ve shattered something. But it was no use. I looked back to where the woman had been standing, but she was gone. The shadowy figure stood still, holding the knife to my sister’s neck.

“LET GO OF HER YOU FREAK!” I cried, banging my fists against the dome. Maeve was panicking now, her chest rising and falling rapidly, tears running down her face, her muffled pleas penetrating through the glass. “MAEVE.” I cried out; my voice cracked as the salty tears streamed down my cheeks. But I was too late. The dark figure suddenly slashed the knife across her throat, her cries stopped and she slumped down into her seat, eyes still half open, blood now seeping into her blouse. “NO!” I screamed, sinking down to the ground. The glass squeaked as my hands dragged down over the exterior. I looked back up towards the shadowy figure, only to see it was no longer there. In its place I saw myself, a satisfied smile on my face. I heard the clownish woman’s disembodied laugh echo through the flat, “What a pity,” the voice said, “you could’ve saved her! But now, I’m afraid, you must face the consequences of your actions.” The clone slowly raised the hand still holding the knife, and pointed directly at me. Suddenly, I felt the cool touch of metal against my throat. The other me winked, and I felt the blade drag deep across my neck. I started to choke, the blood pooling into my airways. I instinctively brought my hand up to the wound. My vision started turning black around the edges. I looked down to see the front of my dress already soaked in red. The last thing I saw was my own hand, holding the knife, droplets of blood falling steadily from the tip of the blade. Then, everything went dark.

My eyes shot open. All I saw was fur, and something was blocking my breathing. I sat up quickly, and the ball of fluff leapt off my face. The cat looked up at me from his new place on my lap- those big amber eyes practically staring into my soul- and meowed loudly. I sighed in annoyance. “Stupid cat.” I grumbled as I lifted him up and let him jump to the floor. I rubbed my eyes and tried to slow my racing heartbeat. My body was covered in a sheen of cold sweat. I looked down at the bed to see my sister still sleeping soundly beside me. I took a deep, shaky breath and stroked the top of her head, moving away some of the stray hairs lying across her face. I glanced over at the digital clock next to me, SUNDAY: JULY 4. 8:26 AM. Today was Reaping Day; no wonder I had that horrible nightmare. This would be my 4th year participating in the drawing, it was Maeve’s first. How unlucky it was that her twelfth birthday had only been three days prior. If she’d just been born a few days later, she could’ve been spared for another year.

I sighed and swung my legs over the side of the bed. My mother was already awake, sewing some buttons back onto Maeve’s school shirt. “Hi, mom.”

“Hi, sweetie. Did you just wake up?”

“Yeah, just now.” I yawned.

“Is Maeve still asleep?”

“Yeah.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost 8:30. Should I wake her up?”

“No, it’s okay,” she sighed, “let her sleep some more. I’ll wake her up soon.” She held up the shirt to examine her work, “Still needs a few more stitches…” She held the needle between her teeth and reached down to her sewing basket to grab another spool of thread. I looked down as I felt the cat’s bushy tail brush past my ankles. I knelt down and scratched behind his ears.

“Did you feed Tulip yet?” I asked. The fluffy, tricolor, flat-faced cat was now sitting at my feet, purring contentedly.

“Didn’t have to; he caught his own breakfast. A huge rat, which he so lovingly dropped on my pillow this morning.” My mother replied.

I stifled a laugh.

“Since you’re already up, go ahead and shower. I’ve laid out your clothes for you on the kitchen table, so when you’re done, just change into them and come back here so I can do your hair. Okay?”

“Okay.”

She smiled at me then went back to her work. I grabbed some soap and a clean towel from the small shelf near the entrance and walked out. “Make sure you don’t use up all the hot water!” she called out as I closed the door behind me. “Don’t worry, I won’t!”.

We didn’t have our own bathroom- there was one toilet and one shower per floor, which could be shared by anywhere from 5 to 20 people. There were 5 apartments on each of the 4 floors- all one room- with one bed, a stove, a sink, a small table and chairs, and some shelves for storage. Each apartment had a heater and air conditioner, but they were never guaranteed to work when you needed them. Sometimes only one side of the building would have heating, or only certain floors had AC, or only specific apartments. Often, the whole building wouldn’t have either for days at a time. The same thing happened with the water and electricity. You could never fully rely on any of the appliances being in working order. As a result, we shared a lot with other apartments. If someone’s stove wasn’t working, they could just knock on a neighbor’s door and use theirs. If only one apartment on our floor had heating during the winter, there were no objections when everyone else would come over and make themselves at home. It made it feel like we were all one family, and it was customary to refer to many of your neighbors as your aunt or uncle. This was common throughout the District, as almost everyone aside from the mayor and peacekeepers lived in small, rundown tenements, expanding outwards from the city center, which was home to the Justice building. Here, in District 8, we produce textiles. There are 6 factories in total; one of which is entirely dedicated to making peacekeeper uniforms. We typically start in the factories at 14, splitting the day between school and work. We aren’t assigned specific jobs until we turn 18. Until then, those in charge of production make requests for certain numbers of workers, and we go wherever we’re needed. Once we finish school, we’re assigned permanent job positions based on both our aptitude tests and our performances in various factory tasks. The better you do on the aptitude test, the better (or at least safer) your job will be. Those with the highest scores tend to be assigned as desk jockeys- where the risk of dying on the job is fairly low. Those with the lowest scores are sent to work in the most dangerous parts of the factories; you can always tell who works there because chances are, they’ve lost some part of their limbs...or face...or they’re, you know, missing a hand...Then there’s those whose scores fall somewhere in the middle; if they have a specific skill, like baking, or perhaps healing, they’re assigned a job based on that. The rest are assigned mid-level factory jobs, which were still dangerous, but the chances of getting to keep all your fingers were significantly higher! (But not guaranteed).

When I turned on the shower, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the water was delightfully warm. It took everything in me not to keep standing there, enjoying the warmth, until the water would turn cold. I shivered as I stepped out of the shower and quickly wrapped my towel around me. I walked swiftly down the hall and flung open the door to the apartment. I grabbed my outfit from the kitchen table. A white trapeze-line dress ending an inch or so above my knees, long billowy sleeves pulled tight at the wrists, and a mock turtleneck with tiny ruffles adorning the edge. My shoes sat on the floor next to it; dark blue suede ankle-boots with small square heels.They were a birthday present from my mother; most definitely from the black market. I got dressed and pulled up a stool in front of my mother’s chair. She combed through my curls as gently as she could, but I still winced when she pulled too hard at a knot. She braided four small plaits at the front and sides of my hair, pulling them into two larger braids that she twisted together and pinned to the back of my head. She handed me the mirror. I looked into it and smiled, “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” I turned around and hugged her tightly. She smelled of soap and clean linen, and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on- all I knew was that it was comforting and warm. I held on a little longer than usual. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling her scent. She brought her hand up and gently stroked the back of my head. We both knew what could happen today...I tried my best not to think about it. Maeve soon came back from the shower and changed into a mod-style purple dress and black mary janes. My mother braided her hair in a similar style to mine, adding a small flower clip at the side. She looked us once over, nodded, then stood at the mirror and added a few pins to secure her own hairstyle. She sighed, “Ready?”

“Yeah.” “Yeah.” my sister and I said in unison.

My mother chuckled lightly as we stepped through the threshold.

We walked the few blocks over to the underground and boarded the train headed to the Justice building. The train car was packed. Everyone was dressed in their best (and most colorful) outfit. These types of clothes were only worn on special occasions; those above working age wore grey coveralls to work and school, and something drab and ill-fitting otherwise. As we exited the train car, I kept a tight grip on Maeve’s hand. As we emerged from the underground, our eyes were bombarded with light, and I squinted as the brightness flooded my vision. When my eyes adjusted, I spotted the registration table. I gave my mother a brief hug and went to join the girls’ line with Maeve. Soon, we’d reached the front. I looked down at Maeve, “You want me to go first, kiddo?”

She glanced up at me with wide eyes, then stared forward and shook her head. 

“You sure?”

“Mhmm. I just wanna get it over with.”

“Okay.” I hunched over and whispered into her ear, “You’re gonna be fine, I promise. It’s not as bad as you think. I’ll see you in a few minutes, yeah?”

She nodded. I gave her hand a squeeze and watched her walk up to the table. I heard them speaking faintly and a few minutes later, she turned around to look at me, a nervous expression on her face. I gave her a reassuring nod then headed over there myself. 

The woman at the table sat there with a bored expression. She looked to be in her 30’s, but the heavy dark circles under her eyes seemed to age her quite a few years.

“Last name?” She said. She didn’t bother to look up at me. 

“Whitlock.”

“Whitlock…” she muttered, flipping through the pages, “Right, Whitlock. Persephone?” 

“Yeah.” 

She crossed my name off the list. “You’re sixteen?”

“Yes.” 

“Okay,” she sighed, “Hold out your hand, please.” She took a small device next to her and clipped it onto my index finger. I winced when I felt the needle prick my skin. She unclipped the device then stamped my wrist with the capitol’s sigil. 

“You can go join your age group, fourth line from the left.”

“Thanks,” I muttered.

She paused, then looked up at me sympathetically, “And um, good luck.”

I nodded and gave her a curt smile before heading over to join my peers. We were arranged by age and gender, boys and girls separate, all standing in rows in front of the stage. I stood waiting, and mindlessly watched the rows slowly multiply. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but soon enough, I looked up at the stage to see a woman in a bright magenta pantsuit. The hem of her skirt was decorated with a flounce of fabric, and she wore a light pink blouse underneath her suit jacket. The front of it contained so many ruffles, you could hardly see her neck. Her hair was pale blonde, and styled in a way that made it look like a cloud sitting on top of her head. Her face was powdered white, save for her blushed cheeks and glossy lipstick. Her lips were absurdly over lined, both painted a shocking fuchsia that closely matched her outfit. She approached the podium with tiny steps and cleared her throat daintily, “Welcome, everyone, to the reaping ceremony for the 59th annual Hunger Games!” People remained silent; the only reaction being a cough from someone in the crowd. She cleared her throat once more, “As always, we shall begin by watching a special film from the capitol, telling us the history and origins of this unique tradition, and to remind us why we are all standing here today.”

At her words, the two televisions turned on to display the Capitol’s sigil. It faded out, and a film about the glorious history of Panem started rolling. I tuned out and stared blankly at the rows of people ahead of me. When the film concluded, Ms. magenta up at the podium clapped enthusiastically. She was the only one. “Oh, wasn’t that wonderful?” She exclaimed, “What a rich history this nation has.” 

I scoffed, that’s one way to put it, I thought. 

“Now, as always- ladies first.” She stuck her hand into the large glass bowl on the right side of the podium and shuffled her hand through the slips of paper before snatching one up. She gingerly unfolded the paper and held it delicately between her index finger and thumb. 

She cleared her throat and read out the name, “Maeve Whitlock.”

I felt my heart stop in my chest.

No. 

My eyes darted through the crowd and I saw people make way for her as she slowly walked to the stage, shaking with every step. Images from my dream flashed through my mind- most poignantly, the image of me watching helplessly, as a dark shadowy figure slashed a knife across my sister’s throat. Panic rose in my chest; my heart beat so loudly in my ears that I barely heard myself shout, “WAIT!” Everyone turned to look at me. My breathing sped up as I suddenly felt at a loss for air, “I volunteer.” I added, my voice cracking slightly, “I volunteer as tribute.” Maeve looked back at me with pleading eyes and shook her head furiously. I avoided her gaze and stared straight ahead as the crowd parted to allow me through to the stage. I paused to grab Maeve’s hand and squeeze it tightly. I cradled the back of her head and planted a kiss atop her forehead. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment as I shakily released her from my grasp and allowed the other girls in the crowd to place a comforting hand on her shoulders as they quietly pulled her away from me. I walked up to the stage and slowly climbed the short flight of steps to then take my place just behind the glass bowl from which my sister’s name was drawn. I can’t believe I’m about to be shepherded to my untimely death because of a stupid glass bowl. I felt my hands getting clammy, and I held to the hem of my dress to keep them from shaking. Ms. Magenta smiled and stepped towards me, “And what is your name, dear?”

“Persephone Whitlock.” I stated.

“And you are…?”

“Her sister.”

“Her sister! Oh, well, of course you are!” she remarked, “Well, that was a very brave thing you just did, Persephone. I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say that this was a truly inspiring moment! Well done! And may the odds be ever in your favor.” she smiled brightly and turned towards the crowd. There were a few measly claps, but they quickly fell silent. “And now, let us draw our male tribute.” She stepped over to the glass bowl on her left and repeated the process. I stared blankly past the rows of people; only when she read the name was my trance broken, “Frederick Weasley.” A tall, redheaded boy emerged from the crowd. I stared as he made his way up to the podium. I recognized him from school. I didn’t know him well, but I knew he had a twin brother- George, I think- who’d lost an ear in a factory accident a few years prior, and was thus ineligible to compete in the Games, as his injury would be an unfair advantage to the other tributes. Apparently, he’d been checking the cogs underneath a broken machine when it somehow turned on and cut his left ear clean off. It was formally reported as an accident, but it’s been rumored that he did it on purpose. There were no witnesses, so no one can say for sure, but if it was intentional, I can’t say I blame him for doing it. There are very few ways you can get out of the games if you’re under 18- something as extreme as losing an ear would certainly fall under that category. I stared at the redhead as he took his place behind the other glass bowl. He was tall, at least 6 foot 4, and seemed to tower over my own 5 foot 10 frame. I’d always thought I was fairly tall for my age, and was used to surpassing most adults in height; but standing next to him, I felt like a child. His entire body was long and lean, but I could tell from the way his shirt clung to him that he was not just skin and bone. He had a well-structured face. Round brown eyes, thin lips, a prominent, romanesque nose; his jaw was clenched as he stared straight ahead and refused to look at me. Him and his brother were known for pulling pranks and cracking jokes at school- there was a strange, impish quality to his features that unintentionally revealed his penchant for mischief. Every inch of his cool, pale skin was covered in freckles. Despite his pallid complexion, his cheeks always seemed to have a slight blush to them that made everything about him appear bright and lively. However, at the present moment, his face had been drained of all colour, save for a rather sickly green tinge. No wonder he doesn’t want to look at me- poor kid looks like he’s about to puke. Ms. Magenta finally stepped forward, “Excellent! We now have our two lovely tributes! Both of whom will now be escorted into the Justice building to await further instructions; Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!” And with that, the Capitol’s sigil was once again displayed on the TVs, and its anthem blasted through the speakers. Suddenly, I felt four hands grab me by the arms and forcefully pull me backwards. I stumbled slightly, and looked up to see the two peacekeepers responsible. They continued to pull me across the stage before practically shoving me down the stairs and onto the cobblestone street. From the corner of my eye, I could see that my fellow tribute was receiving the same gentle treatment as they dragged- I’m sorry, escorted him- to the large, looming structure behind us. As they “escorted” me towards the building’s heavy brass doors, I looked back frantically, trying to spot my mother and sister. But the crowd had gotten rowdier, and they were all being jammed together as the peacekeepers continued to push them away from the stage. My breathing quickened, and I could feel the blood pumping through every vein in my body. When we reached the threshold, the brass doors opened to reveal a high-ceilinged marble hall, and a rush of cool air escaped them. So THIS is where all our air-conditioning goes, I thought to myself. Every sound echoed through the building’s marble interior. I craned my neck upwards and tried to take in every opulent detail as I was dragged down a hallway and shoved into a small room, where the peacekeepers finally released me from their vice grip. “Wait here,” one of them said. They both left and shut the door behind them. I massaged my sore upper arms. “You didn’t have to pull me so hard, you know!” I shouted at the door, “not like I was planning on going anywhere!”. I sighed and stepped back from the door. “Assholes,” I muttered to myself. I plopped down onto a green velvet armchair and examined my surroundings. The walls and ceilings were paneled in rich, mahogany wood. The square panels above me were covered in intricate carvings, complementing the elaborate crystal chandelier hanging in the center. While I assumed the floor was wood, it was hard to tell because of the heavy oriental rugs that adorned its surface. There were two large windows behind me, both framed by plush velvet curtains. They were the same emerald green as the chair, and were tied back with a thick, gold rope that had tassels on the end of it, so as to allow in natural light. There was not much furniture in the room aside from two armchairs- one of which I already occupied- a round, wooden coffee table between them, and two empty bookshelves inlaid in the wall on either side of the room. A thin blue vase containing a single white rose sat in the center of the coffee table. The smell of it was unnaturally overpowering. Something about it made me uneasy, so I carefully pushed it to the far side of the table and shifted away from it. I unconsciously started chewing on my lip. I couldn’t sit still. Sitting there shaking my leg, or playing with the hem of my dress, wasn’t helping. I let out a frustrated groan and jolted up from my seat. I continued to chew my lip as I restlessly paced back and forth across the room. The heavy rugs didn’t hide the creaking of the floorboards as I stomped across them. After what felt like hours, I heard the door creak open. I stopped in my tracks and ran to the door to greet my mother before she’d even entered the room. Her and my sister enveloped me in a bone-crushing hug which I eagerly returned. The peacekeeper standing behind them cleared his throat. We slowly let go of each other and turned to face him. “You have ten minutes to say goodbye- not a second more.” he said in a gruff voice. As my mother and sister stepped fully into the room, the peacekeeper roughly shut the door behind them and left. 

END OF PART ONE

a/n: If you’ve made it this far,  1. Hi, I love you 2. Will I write more for this series? To quote John Mulaney, “Who’s to say?”. 

[inspired-by-the-music]

Romantic: Junmyeon x Reader

Genre: fluff and happy endings; two literature teachers with feelings

Word Count: 2.5k

Note: y’all Suho has me feeling some kind of way & i just had this idea for this drabble (is it really a drabble? i went overboard lol) because i have been reading SO MUCH bc such is the life of an English major. so like... brace yourself for some total nerd talk? writing this was so much fun 

"Why aren't we together?" Junmyeon's gentle whisper draws your attention away from the novel you have been annotating in preparation for your Gothic Literature lecture.

How long has he been standing there? You wonder, looking up to find him sitting in the chair on the other side of your desk. A cup of coffee stands tall to the right of your mug that has long gone cold. He brought you coffee from that cafe down the street again. Raising his eyebrows, he takes a long sip of his drink-- probably green tea-- and you notice that his glass is half empty. 

Oh. He's been here for a while. 

"I'm sorry." You smile, embarrassed, while closing the book. As if they threaten to distract you from Junmyeon, you turn over your notebook to free yourself from the gaze of your scribbled handwriting. "I didn't know you came in. You should have said something sooner."

"Ah, I know better than to distract you from reading," he begins as though he hadn't done just that moments ago. Setting his cup down at his feet, he leans across your desk, takes your book into his careful hands, and grins. "Frankenstein. Again." 

Reddening at his quiet teasing, you explain, "It's for the class I'm teaching this afternoon."

He returns the book and, tapping on the title, he points out, "You didn't need to reread this. It is definitely one of your most frequent reads, so you know it like the back of your hand."

Just a few years your senior, Junmyeon is the youngest Associate Professor in the university's Literature Department. While your other superiors have taken a polite interest in your potential as the newest Assistant Professor, none are quite as interesting to talk to as Junmyeon. He is intelligent, well-spoken, and-- quite frankly-- charming. 

His charms have little to do with his handsome face, perfectly styled black hair, or impeccable wardrobe (he looked like a literature professor in an almost fictional sense); they are more like personality traits that are expressed when he brings you coffee, when his knuckles knock on your door to ask if you will proofread the draft of his dissertation as if you are an intellectual equal, when hie tilts his head and thoughtfully furrows his brow after asking your opinion on the Drama Department Productions he insists on watching at your side. 

And now-- now he expresses his charm by winking, thus wordlessly reigniting a feud that was born soon into your first meeting. While your studies focus on Gothic Literature, his are dedicated to Romantic Poetry-- the poetry that boasts about individualism, idealizes nature, and details spiritual, emotional, and physical passions. Although your thesis explored Gothic themes as an extension of those Romantic ideals, you and Junmyeon have fallen into a habit of playfully arguing as if your fields are at odds. 

"I won't apologize for having good taste. I'll stick to my Gothic horror stories." You reach to pull the book out of his reach. Holding the book safely in your lap, you bite back a mocking grin. "And you can stick to your Romantic--"

"Ah, there it is," he jabs an accusatory finger at you. "There's your air of superiority. I hate to remind you--" his smirk assures that he is all too happy to say-- "that your idol Mary Shelly and mine, Mr. Percy Bysshe Shelley, experienced the most passionate of loves. That means our areas of expertise must be somehow compatible."

Calling Mary Shelley your idol is perhaps an exaggeration, although you do admire her for writing Frankenstein, but you don't argue with Junmyeon about that. Instead, sounding very much like the youngest person in the room, you say, "I wouldn't really say that I ship Mary and Percy--" Junmyeon gasps, flattening his hand over his chest, over his beige vest. "I mean, their union was kind of scandalous. Mary was only, like, 16, and Percy's wife was pregnant--"

"It was true love!" Junmyeon claims. 

You disagree, but you don't want to dissuade him from such a harmless conviction.  You opt to joke, "Well, that's very Romantic of you." 

Junmyeon often gripes about his students' tendency to confuse romantic (themes related to love) and Romantic (a particular movement in Literature), so you expect him to glare at you. He tries to, but he quickly succumbs to the desire to laugh at your pun. 

"Okay. That was a good one."

No, you think, it wasn't. But Junmyeon has a particular interest in what you would call 'dad jokes,' so it is only fitting that he should wipe amused tears from his eyes as he recovers from his laughter. 

As you set to drinking the coffee he had been kind enough to bring for you, he asks, "Did you actually hear what I asked you earlier? Were you just stirred from your studies by the sound of my voice? Or are you just politely withholding your answer?"

"Hm?" 

He asked something? 

A faint blush dusts over the bride of his nose as his gaze flickers to your bookshelf that is overflowing with textbooks, novels, and film adaptations of select works. He studies the shelves-- wheeling his chair closer to them so he can trace his fingers along the titles-- although he already knows their contents. From the shelf, he plucks a small artificial skull, a reference to a scene from Hamlet, and he turns it over in his hands.

He is uncomfortable. Not enough to leave your office, but enough to fix his eyes on the skull to avoid your curious stare. 

It is clear that you shouldn't ask him to repeat the question, so you close your eyes and will the memory to the surface of your mind. What did he say to catch your attention? 

'Why aren't we together?'

You must have dismissed it because you didn't understand its meaning. Together? In this moment, you are. You sit together in the same space talking about things that (although matter little to the rest of the world) are important to each of you. What other togetherness could Junmyeon want? 

"I'm not trying to avoid answering," you say when the silence has endured far too long. "I just don't quite understand what you asked." 

Gingerly placing the skull back on the shelf, he turns to face you. "I asked you why we aren't together." When you blink at him, confused, his discomfort dissolves into amusement. Laughter crinkles his eyes, and he exclaims, "You really know nothing about Romance!"

You are too grateful that his moody spell has passed to take genuine offense at his remark. "I know plenty! You're just not very good at explaining what you mean." 

"I wasn't aware that I need to spell it out." His eyes glitter as they always do when he is ahead; he usually is ahead. "We understand each other. We share the same passions, the same interests, the same hobbies. Yet we aren't so similar that it's boring to spend time together; otherwise, we wouldn't have these long chats, and we wouldn't attend plays together, and we wouldn't be going to that art exhibit after classes today."

Anybody else might be unnerved by Junmyeon's habit of speaking in essays, but you embrace the challenge of following his point. Nodding him along, you quietly wait for his monologue's conclusion. You do not try to predict where his thoughts will lead. 

"We spend a lot of time together, and we enjoy that, or at least I enjoy it." 

If he would break to breathe, you would assure him that you do enjoy his company. He keeps speaking, though. 

"Often-- more often than not-- we are together. And when I went home alone last night after we left the bookstore, I wondered why we aren't together. Afraid that I might make you uncomfortable, that I might ruin our relationship as it is, I decided that I should keep that question to myself. When I saw you sitting there, so deep in thought, and beautiful, I couldn't do it, though. I couldn't bury the question. I wondered aloud why you are not my girlfriend."

As if he hasn't ended his speech by dropping a bomb, Junmyeon's eyebrows shoot up, anticipating a response. Your replies are usually swift. Most of your time is spent quietly reflecting on a variety of questions. Usually, Junmyeon's questions are mere verbalizations of matters you have already considered. Usually, your answers are mere verbalizations of previously reached conclusions. Usually, his questions do not stun you into silence. 

"Well," you stutter, and Junmyeon gawks at witnessing you jumble words for the first time. "I-- you know-- first of all-- I never imagined that someone like you would want someone like me." 

Expecting that there must be more to your perspective, Junmyeon limits his reaction to a downward jerk in the corner of his mouth. However, as he realizes that you aren't prepared to say anything else, he leans forward in his seat, lowers his eyebrows, and his typically calm voice jaggedly confesses, "I don't know what you mean. What is the difference between 'someone like you' and 'someone like me?'"

"Just look at you!" You cover your face as soon as the words have blurted out of your mouth. Keeping your hand over your eyes so you don't have to see his reaction to your outburst, you continue, "Aside from the fact that you're much more beautiful than I--"

Uncharacteristically, Junmyeon interrupts. "I disagree." 

"Wait your turn." You drop your hand to shoot him a warning glare. "You'll derail my train of thought." 

"Some trains should be derailed." He crosses his arms over his chest. "I am not more beautiful than you. Even if I were-- and I am not-- that is no reason why we shouldn't be together. Appearances shouldn't matter."

It's impossible to decide if you're blushing more because of Junmyeon's insistence that you are beautiful or because you have said something so shallow. Reaching again for his drink, he gestures for you to continue your response. 

"Um, appearances aside, you are older than me. You're smarter--"

"I disagree," he repeats shortly. A line deepens between his eyebrows. "I'll concede that I am more educated, but that does not mean that I am more intelligent."

You allow, "be that as it may, you are technically my superior. I am an Assistant Professor, and you are an Associate Professor."

Junmyeon replies, obviously disheartened by your response so far judging by the slumping of his shoulders, "There is no dating ban among faculty." 

"That's not the issue." Your face burns. "I'm just-- I'm trying to explain that we aren't together because I have never considered that you were interested in anything other than a professional acquaintanceship."

Laughing, he repeats, "Acquaintanceship." He smiles fondly while joking, "I've heard of friend-zoned, but never acquaintance-zoned." Once he is no longer amused, he admits, "I do want more than a professional acquaintanceship, and I want more than a friendship." 

As your blush deepens, he leans back into his seat, flustered. "I understand if you don't feel the same way. Take all the time you need to explore your feelings, but if you decide that you don't want me, don't let it be because of something silly like thinking you're not pretty enough or smart enough or--"

"I didn't say that I don't want you." Your argument is brief but stable. Now it is Junmyeon's turn to sit back and blink at you. "I said I don't understand why you want me. That is not the same as saying that I don't want you." You bite your tongue just short of professing, 'I have every reason to want you.' 

Understanding at last, Junmyeon closes his agape mouth. Moments pass in silence as you try to decide whose turn it is to speak. 

Junmyeon claims it is his. "I don't think I can explain it well with words, but I think-- I think I can show you over time. I think it will make more sense once I am your boyfriend." 

You are not sure what he means, and you are too struck by his stutter to press him for an elaboration. 

If you are honest, you will admit that it doesn't matter why Junmyeon wants to be together. It doesn't matter if he changes his mind first thing in the morning with the rising of the sun. This moment of being on the same page at the same time, of sharing the same gaze, is infinite. 

"I'm not expected to dress up for our date tonight, am I?" You rise to your feet, clutching your notebook in one hand and Frankenstein in the other. "I don't think I'll have time to change between class and the art exhibit."

Junmyeon beams as he stands. While sipping his green tea, he carries your coffee and walks with you to your classroom. "I think you look lovely as you are." 

He sets your drink down on your desk. Content that there are no students or other professors nearby-- cautious not because he cares who sees but because he respects your modesty-- he brushes a gentle kiss against your cheek while you are busy troubleshooting the testy projector. 

Gasping, you reach to trace your fingers against your cheek, and he laughs at your reaction to his first act of affection. "There's one reason why I am falling in love with you." He points at your growing smile, careful not to discuss intimate matters too loudly now that you aren't tucked away in your office. "I have never known anybody so expressive."

As much as you enjoy the fluttering of your heart, you are eager for Junmyeon to leave so you can finish preparing for class. Stealing a glance at your watch, you ask, "Don't you teach that Wordsworth class right about now?"

He dreamily props his head up on your desk, gushing, "How romantic-- you already know my schedule!" His playfulness quickly fades, and he strains to catch the time displayed on your wrist. "What time is it?"

"3:30."

He gasps, "I'm late!" And darts out of the room. 

Just as you are catching your breath, just as you are realizing that you are Junmyeon's girlfriend, that this otherwise boring Tuesday now marks the start of something new and exciting, his head pokes back through the doorway. "Hey, let's drive to that exhibit together, okay?"

You are about to scold him for keeping his students waiting and for distracting you from your work, but you falter at the sight of his sparkling smile. Besides, if you argue, he will stay longer; although that is exactly what you want, that is not the responsible option. You nod, "Okay. I'll see you after class."

"See ya!" He waves and sets off to his classroom two doors down, where you hear him announce to his students, "Sorry I'm late! I had romantic matters to tend to."

You can vividly imagine his clever grin as his students are split between guttural groans and pity-laughter. As you smile, you wonder when you started to fall in love with Junmyeon.

[millennialzadr]

About Page!

Hello~! Thank you so much for visiting my blog! My name is Koya, I’m 25, I’m pansexual, my pronouns are she/her, and I’m a full time freelance artist! My main blog is @koyakyuuun, so I’ll be liking and following from there!

Below are some guidelines for those who are curious to know more about this blog and what to expect from it, as well as some general info and FAQs!

Content Guidelines!

The focus of this blog!

So this blog is a mish mash of a couple different themes, but above all it is an adult oriented Invader Zim fan blog!! I grew up with the show and and was a BIG fan during highschool, and after rediscovering it this year I have been DAZZLED and DELIGHTED by the fan content being produced today!! I have a deeply nostalgic yet completely new perspective on the show now that I’m in my 20s, so alongside of celebrating iz content and fan content in general, this blog will center around my niche fave: the iz cast + millennial culture! in other words, the characters depicted as if they lived in the real world and aged in real time! I loved and related to the characters as a kid, and I still love them dearly to this day, so to see people experiment with character interpretations and create adult versions of them means I can still relate to them even now, and even make my own versions! and as a queer neurodivergent millennial who loves niche culture, my favorite versions of the characters are queer neurodivergent millennials who love niche culture!! (and by niche culture I mean MEMES, AESTHETICS, BAD FASHION, GAY CULTURE, CRYPTID CULTURE, DARK CORNERS OF THE INTERNET, CREATIVELY WEIRD SELF EXPRESSION ETC!!)

And of course the other main theme which fits into the first: ZADR! while I don’t ship Zim and Dib as they’re canonically presented in the show, I DO adore the idea of the two growing up together, eventually becoming friends, and eventually falling in love. I’m a Big Gay and I love romance and lgbt content, and ZADR holds such a soft place in my heart 😭 I wrote a big post about why I love it so much which you can see here if you’re curious about my interpretation of the ship!

And now, some guidelines!!

Things I enjoy and will be posting/reblogging!

- general IZ content! because holy SHIT I love the show and ALL the content the fandom creates is awe inspiring and amazing!!!

- millennial culture/humor! I FUCKING LOVE IZ + 2019 POP CULTURE REFERENCES AND MEME CONTENT OKAY

- POSITIVE CONTENT! IZ is my comfort content and I deeply admire the positive impact the show has had on so many people. I also interpret Zim and Dib as having hard lives and mental problems but eventually recovering and finding happiness (and making each other happy!!). I do also love vent content and gritty/dark themes from an artistic standpoint (and of course comedic Depression™ memes) but I will be focusing much more on comforting and uplifting content!

- character development/relationships, fluff, comedy, domestic content, daily life, sci fi, conspiracy/cryptid content, fashion portraits and camp horror!! these are my favorite themes!!

- friendship, romance, and found family!! I adore the relationships between the characters and they ALL DESERVE LOVE!!!!! JHONEN CAN BITE MY ASS

- the IZ creators!! speaking of Jhonen LOL I LOVE seeing content about the creators themselves!! I genuinely have such affection and admiration for the wonderful people who brought and continue to bring the world of IZ to life, they are such amazing and inspiring human beings and I will be celebrating them alongside their creations!!

- IZ characters + aesthetics!! some of my MOST favorite IZ content depicts the characters being stylized with or sporting the fashion of vaporwave, goth, grunge, pastel, spacecore, cryptidcore, future funk, 90s disastercore and any and all things strange, niche, glittery and neon, and I FUCKING LOVE IT. GOD

- and lastly, I talk a fuck of a lot, as you can probably tell by this post lol. I’ll be screaming in the tags constantly and am liable to write the occasional super long text post! for those who are into that, I invite you to have discussions with me! and for those who aren’t, feel free to ignore them!

Things I will be staying away from!

- romantic content that depicts the characters as minors AKA underage zadr!! there will be no kid ships here! I’m an adult and only enjoy shipping adult versions of the characters! kid content will be either canon, wholesome, or friendship content! while I do find adult versions of the characters attractive since they have qualities I find attractive in real life, I see the adult versions as almost completely different people since they’re so far removed from the source content, and the love I feel for the canon kids is HIGHLY maternal and very nostalgia centric. this would probably be more clear if I didn’t lump the two types of content into the same blog, but I really do love both the adult fan interpreted IZ world and the canon IZ world in equal measure, just in different ways!

- content that fetishizes or ‘yaoi’-fies gay relationships! I am a queer person and I enjoy queer content made by queer people for queer people, you’re not gonna find any “B-BUT WE’RE BOTH BOYS!” shit here 😂

- content that depicts abuse between friends or partners!! while violence is an active theme in zim and dib’s canonical relationship, I very much dislike zadr content that depicts the two being aggressive or malicious towards each other while they’re supposedly in love. complex relationships are certainly interesting, but while toxic and abusive relationships are realistic, they’re not okay and should not be romanticized. I understand some people use that kind of content to cope, but for me it’s nothing but bad feelings. sparring and play fighting is fine and good, consensual violence could be interesting to explore, but hatred will stay separate from romance on this blog.

- discourse and long conversations about negative topics! I acknowledge the importance of discussing problems within the fandom, however I wish for this blog to be a positive and comforting place, since iz content in general is positive and comforting for me! there may be an occasional post that touches on real life negative topics but overall this will be kept to a minimum.

- explicit content!! while I DO both draw and consume nsfw adult zadr content, it will not be on this blog! since tumblr decided to be idiots and remove any way for minors and people who don’t wish to see nsfw content to hide it, this blog will remain pg-13. I will also not be providing any links to my other sites because of this (I am a nsfw artist and I sell porn commissions for a living, not trying to shove that in the faces of my minor, ace and sex repulsed followers, but by all means seek out my art if you DO wish to!). similarly, I will not be releasing my nsfw zadr art publicly anywhere, since aged up characters are controversial and my career, being online, could suffer if someone wanted to use that against me. HOWEVER, for fellow adult fans with extra cash who take a shine to my art, paid content could be a possibility in the future 👀

Interaction Guidelines!

Things I’m okay with!

- tagging my posts in any way you wish! kinning is fine! any ship interpretation is fine! any gender/orientation interpretation is fine! sharing your thoughts/opinions is fine!

- as long as you CREDIT me! using my art for icons/headers etc, drawing my iz designs, referencing my art, and reposting my art on other sites is all okay!

- asks or anons of any questions you might have about me or my content!

- asks or anons popping in to share thoughts, opinions and ideas! it’s always nice to hear from other fans!

- leaving comments in the tags/replies/reblogs of my posts makes me very happy!! tumblr is the only place I post my fanart and I love seeing what people think of it!

Things I’m not okay with!

- messages, reblogs, tags or asks that are blatantly rude or disrespectful! I really do not care what the subject or reason is, if you act like an asshole, I will not respond and will block you!

- asks or messages that say only ‘hi’ or ‘how are you?’ I have no problem with people trying to be friendly but I never have a single idea of how to reply to these kinds of messages, I’m so sorry 😂 please talk to me about fandom stuff though!!

- pressure to produce content! I like any other creator adore comments and compliments, but things like “DRAW MORE!!” “MORE ZADR!!” “WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO DRAW MORE!!” are not compliments!! it is in fact very off putting so please don’t do that! it will mess with my motivation! consider commissioning me if you want more content!

- if you are considering trying to be my friend, please be 20+!! I am not comfortable being friends with teens! nothing against my teen followers, I respect and appreciate you, but please understand I cannot relate to you on a personal level, and besides that, being friends with someone over 20 can be harmful and even dangerous for minors! I am an adult and only wish to have adult friends! please respect my wishes!

About my content!

So since what I like to draw is usually pretty different from the show, here are the basic headcanons for my interpretations of adult Zim and Dib~! Basically they’re queer 2019 millennials who are damaged but doing their best and enjoy niche interests and subcultures. Zim is the type who’s tough to handle but it’s worth it because he’s an amazing and colorful person underneath it all and only those he’s close to get to see that, and Dib is an eccentric but completely reliable, intelligent, passionate, and loyal friend whose company is a familiar comfort and a total safe space. They live together and are mutually beneficial allies to friends to lovers!

I HAVE A FIC, or at least an idea for one lol and when using my designs for the characters, my drawings will most likely be set in its context! Affectionately nicknamed the Soft AU, it’s centered around rest, recovery, affection, care and bonding… bc I’m SOFT OKAY 😂 You can read the full summary here, but here’s the gist!

A little over a decade after arriving on earth, Zim’s banishment is reinstated and as a result his entire base and all his equipment is confiscated, leaving him stranded on Earth with no way off the planet and in danger of being caught and killed by the humans. Dib offers him a deal that he’ll hide Zim instead of turning him in in exchange for letting him study Zim. They live together in Dib’s apartment and eventually get used to each other. Loneliness induced affection ensues. Hooray!!

And now for the boys themselves!

My Dib!

- 25, 6′2″, Mexican, cis boy, bisexual, bilingual

- is recovering from depression and anxiety and has ADD and insomnia, has had a nicotine addiction

- has a ton of ear piercings and a few facial piercings, as well as a few tattoos

- is still just as obsessive about his interests as he was as a kid, just with more curbed enthusiasm due to, yknow, depression. researching Zim however brings his enthusiasm back full force. he still sucks at taking care of himself when enthralled with his work but he’s getting there

- runs various blogs, forums, and youtube channels making content about cryptids and conspiracy theories, the ad revenue of which is his main source of income (he dislikes using his father’s money to support himself, but will dip into the family account occasionally)

- is very patient and can communicate and problem solve very well, and is skilled at handling various conflicts and mental issues

- still has his ‘I hate people’ attitude but is more open minded and understanding than he used to be, and more compassionate. he has difficulty trusting strangers but his friends and family are very important to him

- can be moody and dramatic but he’s a big sweetheart at his core

- being friends with Zim has made him more willing to enjoy acting like a huge dork and total weirdo, even in public

My Zim!

- young adult, 5′5″, androgynous presenting demi boy, panromantic demisexual

- has PTSD and anxiety, is recovering with help from Dib

- displays inhuman behavior such as hissing, growling, chirring, chirping, scratching/biting, screeching, territory guarding and dominance displays

- is a demi boy, meaning he identifies as mostly but not completely male, and is more nonbinary than cis, but he’s never given it too much thought because gender is stupid. he has little to no concept and zero regard for human gender roles

- is a SHIT who’s main entertainment is annoying Dib and ‘winning’ arguments, but Dib seems to get harder to piss off as time goes on, much to his confusion

- pitches a fit when he doesn’t agree with/doesn’t want to do something but can be swayed with rewards such as food, sweets, new clothes, video games etc

- rambunctious and high energy, he gets stir crazy often, but since he hates the city he and Dib often take car trips to more fun/nicer places outside the neighborhood

- moody and bratty with skewed logic but smart and more intuitive than he used to be, he’s more than a handful to deal with, but this also makes him the most entertaining person Dib knows

- after having the free time to discover the world of aesthetics, he becomes very much into clothes, make up, accessories etc (be they masculine or feminine) and enjoys making a hobby out of creating a unique self image using fashion (thus also subconsciously asserting his individuality)

- is much more dependent on Dib than he admits (or even realizes)

- his beliefs in nationalism, fascism and genocide are direct results of brainwashing and personality altering programs run by his PAK, and are not actually part of his core personality (these programs will be overridden and deleted eventually)

Side Note: I haven’t thought as far with the other characters but my Gaz and Tak are definitely lesbians 😂

And finally, my tag list!

#my art - things that I drew!

#my post - any post that I posted!

#asks - asks!

#text post - any text post longer than a couple lines!

#video - videos!

#audio - audios!

#canon - content from the show/comic/movie etc!

#creators - any content featuring the IZ cast or crew!

#memes - memes, shitposts, short comics, comedic posts etc!

#friends - friendship art between any characters!

#family - family bonding between the membranes/found family between any characters!

#ships - ship art between adult characters!

#suggestive - any content that could be considered sexual in nature!

#positive - fluff, friendship, wholesome content, uplifting content, characters being happy/cute/having fun etc!

#negative - angst, vent art, violence, mental illness, dark themes, characters fighting/being sad/getting hurt etc!

#kids - content depicting characters as kids/irkens as their canon designs!

#adults - content depicting characters as adults/irkens with noncanon designs!

#millennials - content depicting adult characters that includes any modern culture! (personal fave)

#aesthetic - highly stylized or surreal portraits centered around aesthetic themes!

ship tags!: zadr (zim and dib romance), tagr (tak and gaz romance), rapr (red and purple romance)

friendship tags!: zadf (zim and dib friendship), tagf (tak and gaz friendship), zatf (zim and tak friendship), tadf (tak and dib friendship), zagf (zim and gaz friendship), zag (zim and gir)

character tags!: zim, dib, gaz, tak, gir, red, purple, membrane, skoodge, gretchen, keef, spork, miyuki, recap kid, bg chars, ocs

[longlostretribution]

OOC PSA: Personal Boundaries

So, it’s come to my attention that I need to set up some ground rules for my own comfort. I hate that it’s come to this but I really need to let everyone know where I stand OOC for my own comfort, because the less comfortable I am, the less content I’ll produce (and I do not want to completely drop LLR just because of some run-ins with personal ooc issues like I have other projects). So. I’m going to be blunt and kind of painful about it but I need to get this out there.

Some of these are boundaries that have been recently and repeatedly breached and others are things I’ve learned that need to be clarified from other projects I run. I’m being as blunt and clear-cut as I can be, but if you need more clarification, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’m not trying to single anyone out with these, but it’s been a month and a half or so of varied little/big boundary breaches and I need to draw the line in the sand before something bad happens.

Buckle up lads, this is gonna be long.

---

TL;DR:

I’m not here to make quick friends, I am not here to play therapist or be your creative mentor/sounding board. I am here to write, to draw, to roleplay, and to explore character building with other creatives that I MIGHT get to know in the future.

I’m not very talkative OOC. Don’t feel insulted if we don’t talk every day, bc I physically cannot keep up with that kind of thing.

Don’t call me senpai, smol bean, or treat me like an idol. I’m a person. I don’t like being idolized like an unapproachable celebrity or made out to be a “cutsey wootsey” baby. I’m an adult.

Don’t just befriend me for free artwork. That’s rude and will earn you a permanent block.

Don’t dish out what you can’t take back. Don’t threaten my characters without expecting consequence, and don’t antagonize them without letting me know you’re going to first (the exception is if I approach a muse who very clearly has their antagonistic nature stated in their rules/about page, i,e, a clear-cut or well-known villain character).

I won’t use your work without permission from you directly. I will always try to approach you OOC first for permission to use your content or reference our mutual threads in the AU, canon or not.

Inviting you into my AU doesn’t mean you can use my concepts for yourself or that you have permission to create content for my AU without my permission. I enjoy adding people’s threads as little side-lines, but I’m still writing the AU myself (or with Finn for resET) and prefer strict control over what is/n’t a part of it.

I don’t appreciate people leaking/sharing spoilers I might share in private, even with their close friends. Please don’t be that person.

I don’t feel comfortable with people using my characters/work (including rping them). I know it’s popular to RP from active AUs, but please don’t do that with mine - especially my OCs.

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The long detailed list (with more accurate info):

One: I am not your friend, your bestie, or interested in getting close to you unless we take the time to get to know each other, and that won’t happen with everyone. I get that I come off as a friendly and easy to talk to (so I’m told). And that’s what I like to be! I like to be conversational with people when I can, but that’s what you do when you’re a stranger. You assume that sort of “professionalism” with people before actually getting comfortable with them and letting those barriers down. Friendship takes time, especially for me. I don’t like making close friends quickly, and I don’t make friends in general very easily, and I like keeping it that way. It’s nothing against you as a person, I’m sure you’re a great person! I am just too old and too tired/jaded with what I’ve gone through with people both in real life and ESPECIALLY in the tumblr RPC that I CANNOT and WILL NOT make friends quickly. If you cannot respect this, I will not hesitate to cut you off completely.

Addendum: Along those lines: Unless we’ve already MUTUALLY established friendship, please treat our relationship with a sense of professionalism. This means don’t try to buddy-buddy me or expect me to be friendly beyond common courtesy, respect my boundaries as an individual person, and don’t take my common courtesy and friendliness as a sign I’m being “super close friends” with you. Treat me like a stranger - which I AM - and don’t get too personal too fast. As cruel as this sounds, I don’t want to hear about your personal life; I’m not here to play therapist nor am I here to be a shoulder for you to cry on. I’ve not been entirely professional myself I realize, which is going to change from now on. I don’t want to give mixed signals or lead anyone on with my friendliness. I want to maintain professional distance. I’m not going to “click” with everyone I meet nor will you and I necessarily actually hit it off beyond that distance. That’s just life. It doesn’t mean I hate you, it simply means we’re human and don’t get along perfectly.

Two: The Senpai Rule. It’s in my rules for a reason. Please read it.

Three: I am not your design mentor, art resource, or your permanent sounding board. I am willing to OCCASIONALLY look over art for critiques/red lines, find resources, and I am OCCASIONALLY willing to help you with your oc/world building, but I am NOT interested in fully helping you with your design creation or being your world building “buddy” unless I’ve come to know you for some time. I am NOT JUST a sounding board for ideas. If I invite you to share with me or we click very well and just seem to get those creative juices flowing together, that’s different, but IN GENERAL, please don’t only use me for your own world building or growth.

Four: I cannot talk to you every single day, even if we are friends. I am busy, I have mental health issues that make it hard to talk even to my close friends every single day. I am a full time caregiver for my senior mother and I am a full-time artist. I simply CANNOT be there to talk to you every day. I don’t like getting messages every single day, either, unless you already understand that sometimes I won’t reply to them / will take time in getting to them. If I tell you I have no energy to reply, don’t bother me about it. I will not hesitate to stop talking to you entirely if I have to just to get some peace of mind.

Five: I occasionally make art for friends, but I am not a free art/request machine. I don’t often make art for people I care about anymore because people don’t seem to understand that my free time = MY time I can spend making for other people IF I WANT TO. I am not some machine you can put friendship coins into just to get free art out of. If you are befriending me to get art from me or get written into my AUs/stories, get lost. 

Six: If your muse threatens, belittles, irritates, or otherwise bothers my characters, my characters will react accordingly. It doesn’t matter if their background is what causes this, or their mental health, or their trauma, or just that they’re a mean ol’ fucker who hates people. If a random stranger walked up to you and said “go fuck yourself,” would you respond by saying “oh, it’s ok! I know you deal with x y z, so I’m not offended!”? No. So don’t expect my characters to react that way. Mental health and trauma are NOT excuses or get-out-of-jail-free cards. Likewise, I OOCly do not like when people insult, attack, or threaten my characters without prompting, ESPECIALLY upon first reactions (unless it’s clearly stated in your about or rules that your character will behave as such), so please don’t do it. There’s a difference between me knowing what I’m getting into and me being approached with such animosity, even IC-based, without prompting.

Seven: Even though I get excited and I AM inviting other people to play in on LLR, LLR is my project (and resET is mostly Finn’s project) and we will do with them as we please. I won’t use any kind of design/fan art/graphic/etc anyone else has made for me/the project without their (usually written bc it’s all text online) permission and without crediting them, but it is ultimately up to ME what does and does not appear in the AU/blog/etc. I will always try and approach someone OOC for their direct permission if I want to use their work/reference our threads/etc if I feel they’d work well with the AU.

Addendum: Inviting you into the AU does not give you creative license over the characters/storyline, it does not give you permission to use my work without asking me first, and it does not mean you are a conceptual partner of mine. I don’t mind ideas being tossed my way for threads or concepts you’d like to write with my characters, though they might not be considered canon unless I ask or I list them on the blog page.

Eight: Kind of obvious but it’ll probably need to be said anyways: If we’re friends/I’m close enough to share spoilers with you, PLEASE DON’T SHARE THEM TO ANYONE. Even your own friends. There’s exceptions to this rule (namely those I’ve known for years/am super close with and know well already), but in general? PLEASE don’t share my secrets. That spoils the fun and makes me less interested in actually posting anything.

Nine: I’ve stated this in my long list of rules, but: please don’t roleplay any of my AU characters, especially my OCs. I’m already roleplaying them and I’m not comfortable in seeing doubles. Especially my OCs because??? Don’t rp other people’s OCs lmao that’s just bizarre and kind of akin to stealing them? Anyways I just need to reiterate that because I know that’s kind of how AUs work on tumblr so. HEADS UP THAT I DON’T LIKE THE THOUGHT OF PEOPLE RPING MY OWN CHARACTERS (ESP WITHOUT MY DIRECT PERMISSION).

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That’s all for now! Thank you for understanding and I appreciate all your patience with me as I take my time to make this AU the best I can!

[anotherweepingwoman]

For the fic meme: 7 and 8!

oh man BC these are the two questions I can’t answer

Proud being the key word - I can’t be proud of my writing. I don’t much like it to be honest. I write like a compulsive gambler: addicted to the process of constantly failing and being seen failing, only to become aware of the consequences when it’s impossible to pay up. The sole saving grace of it all is getting to meet lovely people like you.

To answer the questions, I’ll try and talk about snippets with personal significance and why.

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

The barrier between worlds.

Like a curved black mirror it reflects them in flight, Pepita a rush of luminescence, his own figure a shadowy blur. Héctor has a regular aversion to the sight of himself as a skeleton. He prefers to remember himself as he was alive. But when he looks into the reflection, the barrier somehow becomes clearer.

Somehow — for the first time — he feels like he can almost understand it. The nature of his cage.

Wind rushes into his skull and sweeps through his hair. He closes his eyes, relishing how it almost feels like being touched.

When he opens them again, he sees the spread of Pepita’s wings, visible down to the smallest bones in the glow of peacock markings. The vanes of her feathers barely flutter as she glides. He looks at the mirror and thinks he can see smooth streaks from the air she’s moved. (Paint against paint, he thinks.) Flickering between the lines — like an accident, a flashlight aimed in the wrong direction — is a bluish haze with holes for eyes and a nose.

I have a face, he thinks.

This is the central structuring element of Pepita’s Window, an image that came to me shortly after reading chapter six of “Neither Can You”. I was looking out of the window of a commuter train and saw Héctor on Pepita, staring into the barrier with a lost expression on his face. But it was directer than that, because there were no words yet involved (or rather, the moment wasn’t fixed in words, the words still moved). I spent a lot of time turning this image over, and in the process, it became laden with associations. I won’t go into details about the story. But I do associate flight (especially in animation) with a wide range of emotions.

The closest I can get to describing those emotions for me personally is to refer to the film Una mujer fantástica. I spent a lot of time thinking about the establishing shot of that film, which is an aerial rotating shot of Iguazu Falls, glorious waterfalls located on the border of Argentina and Brazil. Going to those falls — crossing the Chilean border to go there with her cis male lover —  is an unrealized dream for Marina, a trans woman and artist and the main character in the film. And that shot brings out some of the valences of the title, which is in some ways a question for the characters Marina encounters, characters trying to pin her down and interpret her, who for the most part see her as inauthentic, sensational, or fabular (as opposed to glorious, fabulous, to the positive meanings of fantastic). I thought frequently of Marina while trying to sketch Héctor, of the crossings the two of them were able and unable to make, of the mirrors held before them and that they choose to hold before themselves.

8    Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Somehow he’s begun pacing. He throws up his hands. “She’s already forgetting again, Imelda, I can feel it … and there’s no picture. My time is up!”

“What, so you think you have to give up as well?”

The boiling something shoots through to his skull. “Give up? I never give up. I never, not once —” he shakes his head, amazed once more by how little she understands him.

Bitterness offers a strange clarity; it also unleashes thoughts he prefers to keep chained in darkness. The more he thinks them, the less conscious he becomes of how similar he must look to when he’d rounded on Ernesto and Miguel. “And don’t lie to me. None of you want me here! You’ve all got your own routines, your perfect lives. Who needs Héctor except for a laugh? Rosita pities me. Julio’s decided I’m a lunatic! Victoria — Victoria barely speaks to me — and she wasn’t asking me a real question, you know, she just wanted me to pass her a magazine! So I made a sad joke about it, so what? I am sad! You — you’re my wife, and you can’t even bring yourself to touch me unless it’s with a sharp instrument!”

He becomes conscious that he’s shaking. “I see this family. I see far more than you think! You’re all deluding yourselves if you think you want me here except to feel better about your own guilt!”

Unlike the scene above, which had a clarifying quality and helped draw things together, the fight between Héctor and Imelda only emerged in the drafting process. Héctor encounters a number of physical thresholds and boundaries — the window, the door, Pepita’s window — throughout the story. But the psychological boundaries, these proved much harder to realize. This scene became the focal point for my thoughts on how he might cross one of those invisible, self-imposed boundaries.

I think the reason this scene became a matter of personal importance to me is because he ends up becoming angry. (In early drafts, he was far more apologetic; he held back.) Pushing him to the edge meant something; there was something freeing to having him let it all out, something that made me feel like he was finally also in a place to move forward. I think what I learned in writing this is that both this Héctor and this Imelda think it’s better to be hated than to be an object of indifference. This is never made explicit, but working on the scene helped me see Imelda as someone who’s wanted Héctor to be angry even as she’s figured that the moment he ended up speaking his anger, he’d reveal he wanted to leave her again because of what she did to him (she’s feeling very guilty). In that process, I realized Héctor shares a version of that philosophy: he’s wanted Imelda to open up to him emotionally and has figured she’s been hiding her true feelings, hiding that she really wants him to leave. Héctor has also sworn to himself that he won’t upset her, won’t blame her, won’t make her feel guilty. They’re both proceeding from a similar if slanted view of things that somehow involves waiting for the other to explode first. And when he’s the one to explode, this opens a window for Imelda to reconsider some of her preconceptions, which also somehow is for me a personal matter, a baring of soul I guess.

Thank you for your kind asks, BC!

[dangan-ronpa-v3-imagines-blog]

Thank you so very much anon! Praise like this always makes my day

Mod Harumaki

-Listen, I like hugs more than the average person

-Even with no idea who you are and a sudden hug as my only interaction with you, I would probably hug back out of reflex unless you look like a serial killer or a kidnapper tbh

-Once you introduce yourself as Anon, I will refer to you only as Anon, and I likewise would not respond to my own name

-You are Anon

-I am Mod Harumaki

-I have no name other than Harumaki

-After that, expect lots of V3 fangirling to compensate for the fact that none of my irl friends are into Danganronpa

-Once I finish incoherently screaming about why Maki is best girl and why Shuichi is best boy and why Ouma is my son and why I would let Tenko beat me up any day ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), I would actually be able to focus on the blog

-”Which one of my imagines is your favorite? Which character do I write the best for? Have you sent in any requests? How can I improve as a writer? Do you think there’s any characters I’m writing as OOC? Are my imagines the right length? Do you think I may have accidentally spoiled something?”

-I hope you have answers Anon because there’s no escape from me when I’m excited

Wow, thanks a ton for the praise anon! It’s a pleasure that people like the new theme I tossed together. Here’s my imagine for if you glomped me, the glorious genius writer…

Mod Iruma

I like hugs, don’t get me wrong! But I would probably flinch reallllyyy hard if some (incredibly amazing) stranger suddenly embraces me in public.

I would probably poke and prod you with questions about the display until you tell me that you’re a fan of mine, in which I would be really excited and happy.

Like. REALLY excited and happy.

Less that you’re a fan of mine, but more that you like Danganronpa and is so passionate about it!

I would first ask if you’re spoiled and if you were, then I would force you to get into a huge discussion with me about [INSERTCHARACTERHERE]’s portrayal and if it was good and what did you think of [INSERTCHAPTERHERE], did you like the executions—

Also, if you weren’t converted over to Makisim, I would make sure to do so. Even if you were unspoiled, in which I would use her stunning personality to win you over.

I would do all of this while you’re still embracing me with a hug. I-I hope you don’t find it too impersonal? I’m not too touchy-feely.

But I love receiving hugs! Even if I don’t show it!

I would try to hug you back, which is… really… awkward.

…But it’s the thought that counts, r-right?!

Oh gee, ‘adorable newbie’ Anonymous, you’re so kind!! Mod Tenko hasn’t even done much on the blog yet, but it’s still good to know that you like the work she has provided so far!!

Okay here we go:

Mod Tenko. >> Don’t worry Anonymous! Mod Tenko also likes hugs!! >> But if you were to suddenly hug her out of no where in public she would most likely scream from the surprise. >> But the moment I realize you’re just hugging me, and you tell me why and how you know me I will gladly hug you back in a big embrace!!! >> I’mma hugger!!!! so hugs are always welcomed within reason :3 >> And if you are to somehow tell me that you are actually a fan of my writing, then, you’re gonna have to deal with a flustered Mod Tenko until one of us leaves the conversation– >> I don’t get complimented often, and getting complimented over something like my writing is REALLY flattering to me!!! thank you >> I don’t necessarily crave praise or anything, just know that I’m very grateful for your kind words! big or small!! they mean A LOT!!! >> And i probably don’t even deserve them tbh but still thanks. >> Also! don’t. compliment. the mod. or you will have to deal with an awkwardly flustered mod tenko who cannot take the kindness of your souulll-- >> sndfioaghdfudagkbadhavksdvsduasyddfnkdshfud– >> I’ll want to progress the convo and will probably trip over my words A LOT since I’m very awkward…but i mean well! and i’m just excited to meet you Anonymous!!!! >> I will ask you tones of questions about the blog and what you think of it!!! >> I barely get to meet internet friends– >> And yes!! Friendship is a must beyond this point!!!!!!!!! >> I’d prob’ly steer the conversing in the way of v3 somehow since i am in love with it!! but i would be very weary of the topic until i know how spoiled you are >> Mod Tenko is also a clinger, so if the chemistry between us is good, i will want to keep the convo going for as long as i can!! [cuz my irl friends aren’t even all that passionate about dr ;-; like at all] >> Friendship. >> \*o*//

Oh um, I really liked doing this! It made me so happy like seriously I couldn’t stop smiling haha ! So here it is and also Thank you Anon

Mod Kiibo

~ I really do like hugs a bunch but don’t have too many because of my anxiety

~ But after the sudden hug you gave me I would definitely hug back with no hesitation

~ After it I would be a mess, just internal screaming a lot

~I’ll introduce myself as Mod Kiibo and you would do your introduction too

~ Then after introductions, I’ll question you as to why you hugged me so suddenly not that I didn’t appreciate it though

~ Once you tell me you are a fan of mine, I’m more of a mess than before

~ Just

~ AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

~ I wouldn’t scream that out loud of course just internally in my mind

~ I would try to bring up Danganronpa to see what type of conversation I could bring up

~ After that little awkward prompting, I would be immediately rambling about everything relating to Danganronpa with full passion along with you and check how spoiled you are so I don’t say anything wrong or spoil you about anything

~ I would make sure I don’t interrupt you and listen to everything you want to talk about

~ I don’t get to talk a lot that often and when someone just wants to genuinely talk to me I get all nervous so I’ll probably thank you for all your kind words and your discussions with me

~ I don’t feel like I deserve much praise at all so nice words like that make me extremely happy

p~ Like I said I do like hugs so if you wanted anymore I’ll give it to you, I wouldn’t do anything that would make you uncomfortable

~ Overall I would appreciate every moment you would spend with me from the bottom of my heart

Mod Ouma

-gets hugged-

……

-awkwardly pats you on the head/back before hugging back?-

-I wouldn’t really know what to do in situations like this….

-BUT that doesn’t mean that I don’t like hugs :D

-So if you told me you were a fan of me, I would kinda hug you back tightly, with your consent off course.

-I would also grin and thank you for taking the time to read my writings…

-….And also for feeding my ego.

(YES……FEED THE EGOOOOOO)

-I would also kinda invite you for food and maybe chat about some other stuff since I like some other fandoms(majority is hetalia and vocaloid and visual novels-),

-I also kinda enjoy talking about other countries and what its like to live there cause I’m WAY too curious about these things.

-In short, my mood would improve tremendously after this encounter for a few days and I would TRY work harder you guys:3

Thank you so much for these kind words! I hope me and other mods provide a lot of prompts in the future! -- Mod Tsumugi

Just like other mods I like receiving hugs! But I also don’t usually feel comfortable with any physical touches. 

So... That would be very awkward for the first time. For the next minutes I’ll try to relax.

Would probably give you a squeeze and maybe even a pat on the back.

I don’t have so many fans to be honest, so I’ll start gushing about it non stop. Then switch for favorite fandom and characters.

If I find out that your taste is similar to mine, you’ll get a free hug from me.

Yet ANOTHER hug if you’re into Tokusatsu.

If not, I’ll try to drag you here! Without being a huge pain in ass.

Maybe even I’ll draw stuff for you, but who knows.

I really do hope that we will bond and become great friends!

I never expected this kind of ask, but alrighty then!

Mod Saihara:

-okay I’m not very used to hugs bc I don’t like physical contact that much

-Hugs in general aren’t really my thing haha

-I’d probably wait a minute before hugging back

-”Who is this human and why are they hugging me this is weeeeeird”

-Once you told me you were a fan I’d probably smile a bit

-”I’m not that active on the blog so you probably would rather hang out with the other mods haha”

-I’ve been told I have problems accepting compliments I’m sorry

-And then I’d ask if you’re into Voltron and Hetalia and stuff bc I need to fangirl with other people over other fandoms lol

Mod Himiko :

. Omg , mod himiko loves hugs ! Maybe even more than an average person ...

. Soo , your hug is gladly accepted ! It’s a bit embarrassing for me bc it’s the first time an anon hugs me but who cares ?! Hugs first !

. I’d probably blushing a lot if you hug me first but I would definitely hug you back !

. I would be a bit concerned about if it was okay for a new mod like me to be hugged since i feel like I don’t deserve such a sweet gest ..

. Once I thanked you , I’d probably be a bit nervous about what should we do but I’ll be super happy and more motivated to show to everyone (and you) my skills !

. Maybe I’ll give you a little smile and then hide behind Mod Harumaki ... Shy Himiko

[rhinointherain]

5-8-2020

Every coherent though is a chain of smaller thoughts Every (thought) is a combination of (feelings that you sense) Every (feeling that you sense) is an (amount of heat in a neuron) every (amount of heat in a neuron (degrees)) is a total sum of energy every total sum of energy is a neuron firing or not firing every neuron firing or not firing is the signal cells being released from the last neuron or not etc etc

Its all either off or on, one or zero, and the derivatives of them. It goes into the FOURTH dimension, the x axis is length (or time, the units) the y axis is x width (2d space) the z axis is x, height (3d space) and the other axis is derivative of x (4d space)

Every thing is a spectrum of itself underneath the 1

Each (x derivative) is an (x), each (x) is an (intergral/anti-derivative) of (x double intiderivative) and so on

Many peoples third eyes open within their lifetime, but only a fewer amount of people actually have the means tools etc to communicative what they understand effectively with the world and possibly harness it for productivity, which is what makes the difference between one of the greatest humans in history and a weird junkie

Kinda impressed by the fact that even despite having no language like this whatsoever to communicate with junkies can find a way to express these things in a way that other people whove gone through it can somehow recognize it

Or maybe they dont recognize what im recognizing at all, they are just communicating other more sensory aspects of “it” (act of third eye being open) and the people whose third eyes actually opened recognize these aspects

I can do anything now if only i remember what this was/is like. I can succeed in any field because I understand how all of them work in principal. Or at least if i remember what i recognize now well enough and can decipher it with enough focus to find a coherent way to use it

Being smart is the ability to recall them more quickly or the ability to understand their connections with each other better or understand them on a “lower” level ( the integral of x, x being thought). Maybe there is no “third eye opening” but its just that you get down on a level few people ever do. But there is no bottom it is an infinity of x into itself, also known as x derivative of x over x intergral of x

Hang on im starting to think of aspects of this i dont understand. Like what are coderivatives or whatever you call them. I cant understand where they fit into this because i dont remember exactly what they are. And time and space being two different dimensions (x and y) or space (y) being the derivative of time (x) oh wait that is exactly what im trying to say, i feel like it could be easier if writing by hand bc i could draw actual derivative symbols instead of counting on words u can type to express what im trying to say

(Wrote this last but put it here bc of organization) Remember this to help you understand: it isnt a chain bc its not just a line its in multiple dimensions. I.E. space. But it is because neurons fire in a chain I.E. time. We can only measure one direction in time but three in space.

Ok this is gonna make me sound even crazier as if I wasnt sounding crazy already. But time travel is not “movement” (one point to another) in the fourth x dimension aka 4th derivative of x (which would be to us like a wormhole), it’s movement in derivative of y? I think y, maybe i have this wrong. Neurons are oriented in space time. The amount of energy they have in them, their location in space (x,y,z coordinates), their location in time (along the x dimension) are all ways to describe the “point” they occupy in all dimensions. (Is the space time continuum represented by the x times xyz space section of all dimensions?)

Time travel is not just derivative of x, which is moving forward aka to the future, but integral of x which is moving “backward” in time aka the past

So not only can you move “outside” i e 4th derivative of x aka the fourth dimension of space (i didnt finish this thought. earlier and am trying to remember deeply enough what it said. It looked like it was a summary of the main idea that not only “” , but also you can move y derivates .” So you actually have an infinite number of dimensions being the derivative of one another in an infinite number of directions)

When they said everythings a fractal that was real

Things go in every direction all at once. And all those things go in every direction of their direction, which is infinitely more times greater than the first “every direction all at once” (which was infinity). Do you understand?

Good god. How did they figure this out. Like when you see media depictions of being high like tool album covers and stuff they have all that fractal stuff and when a sci fi movie wants to convey something deep the zoom in on the molecules until it looks like the universe zoomed out. They understand at least some aspect of this idea.

If i actually wanted my realization to be a groundbreaking thing i would probably need to spend a lot of years trying to convince people i wasnt crazy and only if i eventually effectively communicate my ideas across and spend a lot of time and energy to would it actually later seem like i were a tragic genius rather than a crazy person. also id need to try to hold on how i felt like when i was high for so long it would have a chance of disrupting my mental health/ability to function in society (same thing obvs) and driving me toward like hard drugs and that would not be good

Its so hard to explain the fourth dimension like i really dont think i could try to draw a representation of it like some people do (those cube things, i cant remember what theyre called), my conception of it is a lot more mathematical and verbal. But i still am pretty certain I understand it whether un-high me believes me or not

When youre trying to think about this stuff and you look away at your environment and think about memories and do other complex things that require much deeper chains of neurological communications in order to process them, it becomes a lot harder to focus in on these ideas because the complex things require a much higher/broader/vaguer level of though (higher broader vaguer being words we can use to try to understand what it means to be on a “higher level” as in OUTSIDE OF, DERIVATIVE OF X, IN THE FOURTH DIMENSION etc, just as like (above) and (below) describe location along the z axis if you think of the xy plane aka z equals zero as the “ground” and above means positive z and below means negative z.)

Its going to be harder than i thought to communicate this when sober lol but its still nice i was able to experience it lol

Other things to mention 1. Up until this point (but not after), some pieces of text are out of order than they were written, usually the paragraphs were all written together though not always 2. I wasn’t hallucinating per se but I understand how they work now bc some of the things in the corners of my vision, where my eyes are giving less attention to their light receptors, I’m seeing things off from how they actually are: I turn toward them and perceive them normally but when I turn away and theyre in the corner of my vision i see the distortion again. Its not like scary hallucinations or anything like for example I perceived a giant black slab like in space odyssey in place of the dark doorway, or a wall where there wasnt one. Its because my brain was focusing/thinking in different ways than its used to and so its less sensitive to the type of information it usually takes in from its environment and its interpretations of it are less precise and thus not entirely “correct”. Its a really interesting way of thinking about what it is that you actually notice and perceive. Like the experiment where they switch out the person asking for directions and the majority of people dont actually notice its a difference person

Yeah ok i cant really write much more bc im significantly less high rn, I could sit here the whole rest of the time and try to make sure I understand all this well enough each time I get less high but I really don’t feel like doing that its like, drifting farther and farther away and taking more effort to really grasp it with each drift towards sobriety and while thinking about how I might not understand all this stuff soon I’m tired lol and I appreciate the experience. Anyway yeah

More things I was thinking in the shower: Everything is a direction? And so everything is a dimension? Not just in space or time, thats only one section of it which can be described by a “shape” with three dimensions in the space orientation and one in the time orientation. All categories are their own dimension. In any given moment you are at an intersection of a certain (point) on [the shape representing the space time continuum] and all the other infinities

Question. Does the idea of god fit into all of this. “Who is doing the moving”—that would be god? “What is “moving””, etc. ? If “everything” is all infinities of infinities and this goes on infinitely, there is no possible way to be “outside” that infinity. Therefore you cant possibly “move” it all bc movement requires a force, and that force cant come from “outside” of it so therefore it all “moves” itself? How accurate is the term “movement” to describe what i am referring to? Which is our existence. Aka where the space time continuum is oriented within the “everything”. And by extent, where we ourselves are oriented within the space time continuum. I feel like i could represent this well with a 3d image. We are each our own space time continuum? With all this being understood i believe there is no possible way for us as humans to answer the question of whether there is a god, or what god is. I could be wrong about this but I dont think I personally would be able to. Same with the question of free will. The two are definitely interrelated. I feel like the ideas ive been saying can provide a different framework for talking about questions like this about god and free will and stuff, but the new framework would have to be engaged with/understood more fully in order to get any answers significantly more substantial than what we as humans have already.

“Third eye opening” is what i refer to this experience as but thats just an expression. The eye opening metaphor doesnt hold up super well when i actually think about what i mean by it. What i mean is the moment that you started to understand existence {in a certain way}, more “deeply”/“outside of just perceiving the space time continuum. But i dont think it actually necessarily refers to a specific threshold thats being passed, i just feel like ive reached a level today that is noteworthy because of how much i am able to understand. {In a certain way} is purposefully vague because again im not really sure if there is a threshold for what that certain way actually is, or how you might determine it. Its more that i reached a significant level of understanding existence today. But when people talk about the “third eye being open”, and they actually mean it, this is definitely in the realm of what they mean. Out of all the people in the world who make claims about having their “third eye open”, probably not very many of them mean something similar as i do when I talk about my experience of the third eye being open.

I was thinking about some other stuff as i was lying in bed i didnt write it down unfortunately as i was thinking it but i think it was pretty much repetitions of earlier ideas but elaborated in slightly different ways. overall the final thought was that in sum here are was that i not only can finally conceive of the idea of the fourth (spatial) dimension properly, but i also finally understand that the spatial dimensions are only one tiny “branch” of the many infinities of dimensions that branch into infinitely more infinities of dimensions. I understand now what is meant by “space time continuum” in relation to “everything else”. Oh one other thought i do remember having is that human “religion” (we talked in one my classes how difficult that word is to define) has very little to do with the actual god questions, i.e. what god is and what movement is and how god “works”, but not absolutely nothing to do with them. It’s our (humans’) very very very imprecise way of trying to address these questions.

And one other final thing. My first instinct was to spend hours thinking about how to best and most precisely communicate my understanding so that other people (and sober me) can understand it. I don’t understand why thats what I immediately jumped to doing and still feel the urge to do, when I could much more easily have decided that I was content with just understanding it myself and spending the rest of life knowing that I now have this special knowledge. I always thought i saw knowledge for the sake of knowledge as the ultimate pursuit but I guess I also have the drive to apply it somehow. I wonder if this is true for everyone on some level or not. Oh yes I also had been thinking about how difficult human language is to express what I’m trying to say because its not really equipped for it. like i just want to put quotations around every single word because words are just approximations for the ideas they are trying to express even when talking about ideas that our language is actually designed to describe, not even to mention trying to talk about stuff that it isnt. math concepts (even the few that I actually know anything about) are super super helpful to me in trying to think about and communicate these ideas and now I completely understand what people mean when they say that math is our best bet for being able to communicate with extraterrestrial intelligent life seeing as we have no way of knowing how other beings might perceive information. Wait a minute. Whos even to say that even if our definition of “life” didnt ever evolve anywhere else in the universe, there couldn’t be something else that wasn’t “alive” by this strict definition but not exactly “not alive” either. Like it didnt have “cells” exactly like earth organisms but it was somehow distinct from “not alive” things just like earth organisms are. Like the same way that viruses are neither alive nor not alive.

That article i had to read in cog sci about the “levels of understanding” (i.e. sociology is an abstraction of psychology is an abstraction of biology is an abstraction of chemistry is an abstraction of physics) is something that can fit into this understanding and probably led me to it too, seeing as I have thought about it a good deal since when i read it a few years ago. “...Is an abstraction of” is kinda like saying “is the derivate of”. Or is it like saying “is the integral of”, sorry I’m getting really tired.

Is “How” the integral of “what”, or the derivative?

Ok NOW i am going to actually sleep and instead of trying to think about this more i am going to be content with the fact that i now have all this knowledge.

Your neurons take a snapshot

Even if i am right about all this there isnt actually a point in conveying it and making it understood by other people. Even if it is an extraordinary feat to be able to understand all this it wont be seen as extraordinary (whatever that means) unless enough other people can understand it well enough to understand its significance, or someone who does understand it can make it relevant in some way to the rest of humanity and the functioning of society. I can wake up tomorrow and choose to say “lol i was so high and just rambling nonsense” and choose never to engage with these ideas again and go about my life like normal, or i can take on the burden of choosing to believe they are real, and then deciding whether i need to make them and their significance known (I dont even know if i know what their “significance” is, or if they have one). I dont know which one would overall be the better thing to do.