#and usually it would be a bit offensive but I remember sometimes I would read them and be like wow

[reel-fear]

I think we need to bring back 'troll fics' but very specifically the ones where you are very much trying to potray the views and opinions of a made up author bc those ones are just objectively the funniest. Like I get why they went of out fashion a lot of them use tropes that can be mean spirited or even bigoted and not all of them were really funny. Typos can only be hilarious to read out loud for so long but also I do miss the days when u would read the most batshit plot and it basically laid out the authors opinions on certain fandom stuff very plainly. Stuff like when you didn't like a certain ship for some reason the way you would cope was by making a fic where your NOTP are together but one of them is a acoholic and the character u want to get with someone else constantly thinks abt how they totally made the wrong choice. Like no matter how nice and calm the characters would be if they were in a popular ship ppl didn't like suddenly you would get fics where they actually were super controlling and horrible. And it was bad dont get me wrong, it uses abuse as nothing more than a plot point to get a character to then claim they made the 'wrong choice' and get with a different person... But it was also really funny how far people went with it sometimes-

[houseofhyde]

thinking abt aemond falling in love w blind!reader.

pairing. aemond x fem!reader warnings. no use of y/n, enemies to friends to lovers, ableism, so much fluff, a little bit of smut, angst (who said that). no mention of the reader's physical description. wrote in one sitting, no edit, we die like real men. wordcount. 3.1k (this was meant to be a short silly drabble) hyde's input. couldn't get this out my mind so, naturally, i'm making it your problem too now. enjoy, muah x disclaimer ! i'm not visually impaired but i do have several family members who are, to different degrees, and i've tried to stay true to what i remember them describing it like to me. the reader in this is completely blind, however, and that is something i do not have any experience in. please, if you feel anything about my portrayal is wrong or offensive, kindly let me know and i will happily fix it <3

the first time you meet is a few days after the events on driftmark.

with his new disability, the septa encourages alicent to change his usual lessons alongside his siblings for ones held with a couple of other impaired children of highborn status living in the keep.

aemond, of course, protests.

nearly kicking and screaming.

yells at his mother that he doesn't want to be thrown in a box with all the other "broken toys".

he ends up going anyway, dragged there by a handful of guards.

sulks throughout the whole first week, sitting alone in a corner.

and he would've continued to do that forever, if you didn't invade his space.

aka sit down next to him and offer him a book.

"go away," he says, the pout on his lips pointing lower to the ground.

"i don't want to," you refute.

"i won't tell you again, go. away."

"who are you to tell me anything?"

it leaves him speechless, because,

who is he? seriously?!

he thinks you have to be some sort of idiot to not recognise your prince

the following days go the same as the first

you sit near him and hold out a book

he tells you to go away

sometimes you listen

(not without first making it clear that you're moving because you want to, not because he told you to)

other days you don't

you just sit there next to him

staring blankly ahead

not even attempting to open the book that sits in your lap

one day, when he's feeling particularly short on patience

(he had his first sparring lesson with ser criston since losing his eye and it went awfully, each hit and stumble he took to the ground made worse by the echo of aegon's laughter ringing out throughout the whole courtyard)

he asks why you never read that book

"are you an idiot, or something? can't you read? is that why you're here?"

despite how smart he is for his age, he seems to not see the irony in him judging you for being part of an impaired group, as if he isn't also right there with you

such introspection would require acceptance of his loss first, and aemond just isn't ready for that.

"i can't read," you confirm

"because you're slow"

"no."

"then why?"

"i can't see the pages," it's the first time he notices that you're not looking at him. you're trying, face turned and eyes pointed in his direction, but you're staring past his shoulder, "i can't see anything."

he feels guilty,

wretched,

and the sickest twist of comfort.

because he understands

or at least he tells himself he does

because he can't see anything either - out of his missing socket, that is.

the other eye can see perfectly clearly how you don't even flinch as you speak about your disability

and that's when the jealousy takes over.

"then what good is it carrying around that stupid book?"

he says it because he wants to be mean.

so mean that you run away and leave him alone to sulk forever more.

but you just sit there, shrug your shoulders and shift the book around in your palm,

"i like to feel the weight of it in my hand. plus, you never know when you're going to need throw it at someone"

he bites his tongue before he can ask how you can hope to hit a target you can't even see.

the hostility remains

for months, years.

but you sit near him,

he stops telling you to go away,

you still offer the book out to him.

he learns your name.

not because he wants to

but because the septa calls it out one day in the classroom

and you're the one that answers to it.

the first time he sees you outside the study room, you're all alone, none of your father's guards around you,

and that's what really makes him stop in his tracks.

"what kind of lord leaves his daughter to wander blindly around the keep?" he almost says with his usual disgust,

until he notices that you don't have your book

and you're crying.

despite his own discomfort, aemond tells himself he has to comfort you.

because he's thirteen, almost a man.

and what kind of respectable man leaves a girl to cry all by herself?

he wipes your tears with the sleeves of his doublet, waits patiently until your breathing slows, then he speaks,

"what happened?"

"it's you," you say it softly, almost like you can't believe he's the one comforting you.

"it's me. now tell me what happened?"

"nothing," you tell him at first,

until he demands the full truth in the name of his father, king viserys targaryen.

"i overheard my mother speaking to my father about me. i didn't mean to! i just wanted to show them how i memorised the path from my chambers to theirs, without an escort. i wanted to prove that i can be useful, and good, and not a burden. i heard them through the crack in their door. she wants him to send me away to join the silent sisters. she says i can't see, so i may as well not speak either. but my father won't listen. he says i'm his daughter, and that he will not send me away. he loves me too much, i worry he'll hate me for it one day."

that familiar guilty feeling creeps in,

the one he's felt lingering on his skin since the day you told him of your visual impairment.

he's suddenly so aware of the fact he can see you,

and your tear-stained face,

and the shades of blue in your dress.

"where is your book?" he asks.

"i dropped it, whilst running through the halls. i just wanted to stop hearing them, i didn't want... i didn't mean to cause any mess, i'm sorry."

in an act that surprises even him, aemond takes your hand in his

and pulls you both to your feet.

he slowly leads you along familiar hallways, turning corners he's turned a million times.

"where are we going?"

"trust me."

you know he's taken you to the library the minute he opens the doors, a whiff of old books hitting your senses.

he guides you to a book shelf, puts your hand up to touch the exposed spines

and tells you to move forward.

"stop when you feel it's right."

you stop after four steps.

your fingers grazing over a book titled Matters Of The Heart: a Compilation of Fictitious Stories on Love and Beauty.

he pulls it out the shelf,

guides you both over to a bench,

open the dust covered book,

and reads to you.

the following day, when your father's guards guides you down next to aemond in the study room

and you hold your book out to him

he takes it,

shuffles a little closer to you,

and softly recites the words off their pages.

from that day forward, you become an infamous pair in the keep.

the one-eyed prince and the sightless girl,

never one without the other.

aemond becomes your shadow, always two steps ahead or behind you.

you pick out books in the library

and he reads them to you both.

he brings you down to the courtyard

and watches how you flinch each time the clack of wooden swords rings out.

it drives him to be better,

learn to see more in his opponents than even two eyes would allow,

just so he can watch how the smile stretches across your face each time he tells you he won.

you grow so close that one day, the king invites your family to join the royals for supper.

aemond tries not to care that you end up sitting so far away from him at the table.

at least he can look down it and spot you seated at your father's side, he tells himself.

when dinner ends and music starts to play,

aemond ceases the chance to sneak away from his seat and steal the empty one by your side, both your parents having stood to speak with the king.

he brushes two fingers along the back of your hand,

a private, tactile language only you two can speak,

one that tells you it's him, without him even having to say a word.

"prince aemond," you say, and he instantly hates hearing you address him so formally. "you look handsome this evening"

"and how would you know that?" there's no hint of the malice, the mockery he once used to speak to you with, back when he was angry little boy and you were a stubborn girl.

now he's a man of fifteen years and anger is far from something he feels next to you.

he watches you shrug and the smile that he likes best - cheeky, playful - slips onto your lips

"my mother won't stop bringing it up. dashing, she said."

"is that so?"

"mhmm. but she also says my father should offer me to your father and have us both wed, what with our cripple-like qualities making us unsuited for any other lord or lady, so, really, what does she know? for all i know, you're the most hideous thing to walk the keep and i should feel blessed that i can't see you."

"imagine how i feel. i still have to see you."

"oh, the horrors! well then, my all-mighty seeing knight-in-eye-patch, would you lend me your sight one moment and tell me."

"tell you what?"

"do i have anything in my teeth?" you bite back your laughter as you open your mouth and put your pearly-whites out on display for him.

he doesn't even care if the sight is unlady-like

or if anyone else at the table has noticed.

he's too busy laughing along with you and telling lies of how a massive piece of veg is stuck between your upper front teeth.

aegon is as aegon has alaways been,

a thorn in aemond's side,

and he makes no exceptions when it comes to you.

he can't help but laugh at you both

mouth stained with wine as he saunters up and leans his face down between you both.

"isn't it amazing how, between you both, there's only one eye that actually works?"

aemond bites his tongue, like he always does when it comes to his brother.

you, however, aren't quieted so easily.

"oh, so amazing! do you know what's even more amazing? how the stench of you always announces your arrival."

it's the first time aemond feels it.

that flutter in his chest.

and once it starts, it doesn't seem to want to stop,

he seeks you out most hours of the day

and thinks of you when he's not with you.

when he notices the bruises that litter your arms

from bumping into corners and walking into walls

he has a cane made for you, to help you more safely make your way through the keep.

it's the greatest gift he can give you: the freedom to walk your own path.

one day, as he's telling you about the recent flight he took upon vhagar, you ask him what the sky looks like.

"well, it's blue"

you blink at him, wait for the ball to drop.

"but you wouldn't know what that means"

he tries to think of something else, a different way to describe the vastness of the sky

"have you ever ridden upon a horse?"

you nod your head

"have you ever ridden fast upon a horse?"

you nod again.

"that feeling, when you're gripping at the reigns, and the horse's hooves beat against the ground like a drum, and the wind takes no mercy on your hair, and, for a moment, there's this... warmth of possibility, anticipation, right here" he guides your hand to rest atop your chest, on the side that your heart rests. "that you can leap and beat any obstacle in your way, and for a moment the world is open, and vast, and limitless. that is what the sky looks like, the perfect place to race upon horseback."

"except you're on a dragon."

"well, yes, but find me a horse that has wings and i promise to take you riding up in the sky one day."

you ask him to describe more things, more often.

the forest.

the iron throne.

the sea.

vhagar.

each book he reads you.

till one day you ask, "what do you look like?"

he tries his best.

he tells you about his signature targaryen hair,

and helps guide your hand up to touch it.

he tells you about his pointed nose,

and guides your pointer finer up to drag itself down the length of it.

he tells you about his jawline,

and lets you feel that part of him too.

"and your eye?" you ask.

he doesn't say anything

but he does peal off his eyepatch

and guide your hand up to run down the length of his scar.

"what does it look like?"

"gross."

"that's funny, because it just feels like skin. is all skin gross?"

"no but this skin... it's damaged."

"i feel something. it's hard," you murmur, as your nail traces over the curve of the gemstone that fills his socket.

"it's a sapphire."

"a sapphire?"

"yes. it's like a precious, shiny, smooth, blue rock."

"what about the other eye, the one that's still there?"

"what about it?"

"what does it look like? what colour is it? eyes have colours, don't they?"

"they do," he says, gazing into the hypnotising shade of your own, "it's blue."

"the sky, the sea, your eyes. i think blue might be my favourite colour."

he falls asleep that night with a smile on his face

his heart relieved that you never asked him to put into words what you look like,

because there simply aren't enough words known to man,

be it in the common tongue

or high valyrian,

to describe how beautiful you are.

he tells you as much, when you do eventually ask.

in the fallout of storm's end, soaked to the bone and regretful,

it's you who his legs carry him to

your chambers, to be exact

it doesn't even cross his mind to care that his knocking at your door awakens you

he doesn't care, loses all ability to do so when he collapses into your arms

"i made a mistake," he tells you, when you ask what's wrong

"that's okay, mistakes help us learn better."

not this one, he thinks

you're so gentle with him

and your skin is so warm against his cold

that he can't help himself

his lips find yours.

his hands find your hips.

his breath gets lost somewhere between you both.

but that's okay,

you're all the air he's ever needed.

he feels selfish, when he guides you over to your bed.

and he knows he should tell you what's happened,

what's changed.

he knows he shouldn't be touching you with hands that are stained by blood.

but he's desperate,

and he's breathless,

and he's so frighteningly in love with you.

"please, aemond," it's you who begs for more.

it's you who tugs on the leather of his jerkin.

it's you who pulls at the cotton of his shirt.

it's you who he gets undressed for.

you both wind up naked upon your sheets,

limb tangled with limb.

"i wish i could see you," you tell him. "but i don't need to see you to know you're beautiful, aemond. i feel it, in everything you do for me."

so he lets his own eye shut.

decides he doesn't need to see you either,

not like this, his skin tainted with the smell of the rain, and his dragon, and the velaryon boy's scream.

and the truth is, he wants to take you like this.

he wants to be cruel, and damn you to a life by his side.

but he looks at you,

naked beneath him,

lips swollen with his kisses,

the shine of your own arousal peaking out from that space between your thighs,

and all he sees is the girl he read stories to.

the girl who swooned and awed over every cheesy line about a knight,

and all his knightly honour,

loving his lady in the way that's deemed right by the gods and the lords.

and aemond just can't bring himself to defile your honour,

not like this.

so even as you whine,

and moan,

and offer up your maidenhead on a platter of your unapologetic beauty,

the prince just continues to edge at both your own pleasures,

hips grinding back and forth,

lips tangling with your own,

voice whispering nos, and we can't do thats, and not yets.

"tomorrow," he promises, the spill of his pre-seed smearing along your pelvis with each stuttered thrust of his hardened cock against your soft skin, "i'm going to ask your father for your hand."

"but, how?" you sound so pretty, he can't help himself and lets his eye reopen, searing the haunting image of you naked and pliant beneath him into his mind's eye.. "your mother... she said you flew to offer your hand to one of the baratheon girls."

"what i promised lord baratheon was a targaryen prince, and i intend to keep that promise," he speaks with so much conviction, skipping over the events of his nephew, and his dagger, and his joyride in the sky. "daeron is a boy of sixteen, he can have her. but i, i will belong to you."

the will to leave you, maidenhead still intact, somehow finds its way into his heart

he doesn't fail to leave you sated, however,

his finger dancing along the pretty pearl that has you whining his name and losing your mind upon the mattress.

he keeps his word,

wakes not with the urgent need to discuss last night's war-inciting events with his mother

but with the burning desire to find your father and win his approval

he doesn't find him in his quarter of the keep.

or in the training yard.

or in his seat at the small council.

what he does find is his fear stricken mother,

his stoic grandfather,

his giggling brother.

"aemond, what have you done?"

he doesn't answer

they already know what he done,

the whole realm likely knows, his half-sister too.

so he asks what he really cares about,

asks where your father is.

"he's gone," his mother answers.

"after he heard about your business with lucerys," aegon continues. "the traitor's taken his family to dragonstone and bent the knee to our bastard-bearing cunt of a sister."

so yeah that's what i'm thinking about.

anyway, goodnight <33

[butchtwinkimp]

MINORS DNI!!!

im not marking this post as nsfw, but I will be talking about sex and orgasms in relation to transness in this post. Minors DNI, you will be blocked. Anyone else reading this keep in mind I will be using language that my sexual partners and I use to describe our own personal sexual activities. If anything in this post is phrased weirdly or in a way you deem offensive- remember that this post is not about you or your experiences (I would still like to hear about your experiences if you think it would contribute to the conversation). Thank you. ———————————

Are there any other transmascs out there that have had problems with orgasms pre and post transition?? Just came across a post from a transfem talking about how different orgasms are for them now, with many other trans fems agreeing in the replies/reblogs. My fiancé is a trans woman and she has shared with me (as well as me just being there to witness it lol) how different and powerful her “girl orgasms” are. And like,,, im so happy for you all but damn 😭 im so fucking jealous.

In the post i am referring to the OP also talked about how her orgasms feel very similar to how cis lesbians describe”the female orgasm”, kind of an all over the body feeling that leaves you wanting more. Ive now listened to both cis and trans women (&fems) alike describe the earth shattering experience of having an orgasm, and im honestly kind of upset that I will probably never know what that feels like 😔

Before I started T, it was incredibly hard for me to ever come, for a very long time I was convinced I just couldn’t. I had managed to do it a few times, either from masturbation or from veeeerrryyy specific sex positions (me on top) and everytime it required clitoral stimulation. But even when I could reach an orgasm, its was never that same magical experience I had heard so many women describe. It was like i could only feel the pressure building up, with no pleasurable release. “Coming” for me was just going until my clit was too sensitive to continue, but it never felt like a wave of release washing over my body, just sudden overstimulation.

When my gf started medically transitioning and she first started having “girl orgasms”, i remember her crying and going “holy shit is this what its like?! I never wanna stop!!” And while of course im very happy for her and its fun to get her in that state, I cant help but feel jealous and betrayed by my own body lmao.

i was hoping going on T would “fix” me, and dont get me wrong T has genuinely changed so much about my sex life (as an example I no longer identify as someone on the asexual spectrum! I am constantly horny as fuck!!) but im starting to think my body is just broken. I can come a lot easier now, and ive had maybe one or two orgasms in the 7 months ive been on T that genuinely left me satisfied. Mostly its just… the same. Its a little bit easier for me to orgasm now but they still arent particularly mind blowing, mostly just overstimulating. And i cant help but feel… cheated? By my own body?

Ive listened to so many trans people go on about how hormones drastically improved their sex life, and while it did somewhat improve mine, I feel like I got robbed of a greater experience. Im so happy for everyone finally feeling right and comfortable in their sex lives but damn it really feels like I got left behind sometimes 😔

I am friends with more trans fem people than trans mascs, so usually Im hearing the same story of how much better orgasms have become, so I am curious of how HRT has affected other trans mascs and mens sex lives. Am I the only one perpetually disappointed in my own body or is this a somewhat common experience for people with vaginas? Please dont be afraid to tell me about your own experiences in the replies/reblogs, I am open to hearing from everyone, not just other transmascs :)

[the-barricade]

magazine matchups

vil x reader

you and vil were supposed to just be colleagues, but as your work kept pushing you closer and closer together, you couldn’t help but fall for one another.

a/n: this is another repost of a previously deleted fic I posted. also can’t believe i ever deleted this, this is like the funniest thing I’ve ever written (imho)

—————————————

His absence was something you barely noticed, just as his presence. You weren’t oblivious to it, however. It started out as a coincidence, the two of you ended up modelling for a few projects together, which had the internet going wild. Soon enough, it turned into free advertising, and your managers were intentionally pulling the strings so that you’d be working together. If anything, the nonsensical rumours that came out of it were kind of annoying - other than that, you had no strong opinion about working with him, or his personality.

He wasn’t exactly a constant in your life either, that’s why you almost didn’t notice his unannounced break from the public eye. You remembered him after seeing a now slightly old article about the SDC, ah that’s right, he’d taken a break from almost all of his work to focus on the competition, which had ended a couple of months ago. Despite this, you can’t recall him coming back to the limelight since.

Might as well check his magicam page, you thought. He still posted there, would it be weird to follow him out of nowhere? Eh, who cares- you did it anyways, and then went to bed.

As always, it felt like the sun rose far too early to wake you from your slumber. Your alarm hasn’t gone off yet, or you hoped it hadn’t at least. You checked the time, and you were fine, you didn’t oversleep.

In the meantime you should probably check the texts you got from Neige, your certified best friend who doesn’t usually text you at six in the morning.

“Hey, Y/N! You’re trending on magicam, so is you and Vil’s ship-name, did you know?”

Um, what? That was… strange? Honestly, you really wanted to see what was going on, but you’d be late for school if you let social media get a grip on you right now.

Break time. It felt pretty exciting to hear the bell ring this time around, since you’d been itching to find out what had you on the trending page, it’s not like you did anything either spectacular or offensive recently.

Damn, Neige really wasn’t lying, then again, you couldn’t recall any time he ever has. Your expression died down comically quick, as you kept scrolling through the tagged posts. Your fans were literally insane sometimes, to the point were maybe following someone new on your public account was a bit of a mistake. Basically all of your conjoined fandom was trying to theorise over Vil being added to the list of people you follow, which was otherwise only Neige and your manager. Really, it was a slight disappointment, but it was also kind of funny, at least the internet didn’t decide it was time for a dose of unjust cancel culture just yet.

A few days later, after school had let up, you went to hang out with Neige in town. It was a tradition between you two, a way to keep in contact despite your busy schedules. The two of you often cycled round different attractions or areas in the city, sometimes just opting to walk around and talk. This time, you were headed to the local museum. It was interesting to read about all the history loaded behind what seemed like a simple piece of pottery, or learn about how certain things were used to supplement both the lack of technology and magic of the older world.

It was mostly things you’d seen here before though, but you’d never paid much mind to the modern art section, you realised after thinking about it. “Hey Neige, should we go look over there? Who knows, they might have your portrait framed or something.”

Your joke was received with a light laugh and, “Sure, let’s go take a look!”

This section of the museum felt a lot smaller, but there were even less people willing to marvel at the paintings that adorned the walls. Coincidentally, the one other person that was there happened to be someone both you and Neige recognised. You wondered if he visited the place a lot, people don’t tend to look so blank whilst visiting a museum by themselves.

Neige turned to you, excited to ask if it’d to be alright to approach him. That’s right, you’d somewhat forgotten that those two knew each-other. “Yeah sure, I don’t mind.” As soon as the sound of his name filled the room, his head turned, and his expression looked mildly annoyed. Did he look like that before? God, you’d have to hope the two of you weren’t upsetting him. Your friend however, didn’t appear to notice anything out of the ordinary as he continued to make small talk.

Gradually, said small talk came to close, and Neige had invited him to spend more time with the two of you, though Vil politely declined. He was rather curt, but he didn’t seem like a bad person, if anything your opinion hadn’t changed since you first worked with him.

Before waving goodbye, you rushed to scribble your phone number down on a crumpled piece of paper to give to him. Momentarily, you pondered wether that was a good decision to make, as he almost stayed silent, but soon put on a smile and thanked you. It was an awkward first meet.

Vil turned away after the two of you had left, it was due time to head back to his dorm, despite his visit to the museum serving a different purpose than intended. For Vil, he had hoped to come about some inspiration in preparation for returning to his work but meeting Neige was a frustration in its own right, considering how a large part of his break was dedicated to self improvement after realising his envy was severely holding him back.

Regardless of his efforts, it was disappointing to see Neige thrive under the same conditions as him and yet thwart all the hardships that Vil faced. Whilst his perfection was his pride it robbed him of approachability.

You however, offered him your number despite how out-of-reach he often is to people through your slight uncomfortableness. He thought it was folly of you, but it was a rare boldness that wasn’t unbeffiting of you - having only experienced similar things from Rook, who sometimes took it to an extreme.

Maybe it came from you also being in the industry, but he found himself thinking fondly of it. When Vil arrived at pomefiore once again, he decided to follow you back on magicam, not unaware of you doing so a few days back, although he made no effort to add your contact to his phone. You were still asleep by morning, enjoying the extra time the weekend was granting you. When you did wake up, you checked your phone, a part of your usual morning routine. ‘Oh, he doesn’t hate me’ was what came to mind after seeing that Vil had followed you back.

Not having any plans today you thought to message him on the app, curious as to wether he’d reply. “Hey, how are you doing? Hope we didn’t bother you yesterday.”

After sending that short message you looked through your feed for a bit. Reasonably soon you got an awfully formal response back. Apparently he didn’t mind your presence the other day, which was nice to know. Now however, you were in a position of not knowing wether or not to continue the conversation or what to say. Reaching out to someone over something so minuscule without making an attempt at getting closer with them proved kind of useless, so the two of you briefly discussed your musings about school and work before cutting the conversation.

That was the last time either of you had talked to one another until the two of you inevitably crossed paths again, outside of the internet. This time, the two of you met at a more understandable place, a model’s holy grail, the skincare section.

Another thing to note was that this time, he was not unaccompanied, unlike you. His purple-haired friend was actually who drew your attention away from the ingredient list on the bottle you were looking at. Being a bit louder than intended, he was complaining about this excursion being a waste of time and effort. When you did turn around, you saw Vil glaring daggers into the poor boys soul. Maybe they weren’t friends as you’d initially thought?

Ignoring it would’ve been your best bet but as you heard Vil sigh and mutter something along the lines of ‘I thought we were past this’ you realised he was dragging himself and his possible-friend in your direction. The two of them started looking at the labels of product after product, after Vil had scanned the shelf for a short while. Vil looked quite nonchalant while doing so, but his friend seemed awfully confused when absentmindedly staring at the product. Considering you knew one of them, you thought it might be good to offer up some advice, and recommend a couple brands.

Vil was actually quite thankful for your help, due to him only using products that he’s created himself, he was only aware of what was currently popular rather than beneficial. And this wouldn’t have been the best way to teach Epel how to pick out certain products without any good examples. He thanked you, and invited you to hang out over coffee some time as a thank you.

It was perhaps a little overboard, but neither of you really minded, considering how it was starting to seem that you could become decent friends. And that was how you ended up here, finally settled in to a popular cafe, that at first proved to be a bit of a poor choice, specifically due to its popularity.

When the two of you met up, the people already around the place started to form a crowd around you. It was reasonable, after all people don’t see celebrities everyday, and whilst you were used to it, it could prove to be rather bothersome. Of course, both of you handled the situation well, but there was something so enchanting about how graceful he was with each and every person who approached him, and how he was able to express his appreciation all the while making sure his air of perfectionism never slipped.

When you eventually got a moment of quiet together, you made sure to learn a lot about each other. He wouldn’t say it out-right, but you could surmise that the purple-haired boy from before and a huntsman named Rook were his set of friends. It sounded like an interesting group, but cute nonetheless. You also figured out that a lot of his personal life revolves around his work, or maybe it would be better to say that they happened to coincide.Despite that, he still seemed less daunting now that you’d got to know him a little.

Naturally, you two hung out a lot more after that, and it was fun as you got more comfortable. You even got to do things like convincing him to pose for you to draw him because, “come one, it’ll be extra practice!” He didn’t look amused at all, but he still let you.

Sketching Vil was enjoyable, but he wouldn’t let you notice how he got increasingly anxious as time passed. Vil normally had no reason to feel anxious around anyone, he usually felt confident in himself, but the issue was that his confidence was surprisingly conditional.

It was strange though, the only person to ever make him feel insecure before was Neige, yet you didn’t make him feel threatened. He could only come to one conclusion as to why he was becoming increasingly sensitive to your opinion on him, and being as self aware as he is, the answer didn’t come as a shock to him. But acknowledging that he was in love was a scary revelation to make.

As you finished up your drawings and showed them to him whilst raving about how pretty he was, he calmed down. His appearance was the main factor in his confidence, and reminding himself that he would always have power in that regard soothed his anxiousness, but what really relieved him this time around was the fact that you weren’t judging him.

The next time you were on-set participating in a photo-shoot together, you’d known beforehand. You were both affiliated with the same company, and had managed to put two and two together when discussing your work schedule.

Things felt a lot more light-hearted than all of the other times you’d worked together. Seeing him there as you’d entered the room put a smile on your face.

As you’d taken your last shot together, and everything was getting cleared up, you went to take your arm of Vil’s shoulder, but as you were doing so, he grabbed your hand. You could feel him tense up, and the walls started to feel slightly closer than before. “What’s wrong?” You couldn’t help but be worried. You saw him take a second to compose himself, before he leaned closer to you and whispered a short confession in your ear, “I’ve happened to find myself loving you… Would you be mine?”

That was… unexpected.

But when you said yes, Vil found himself experiencing a joy he hadn’t felt in a long time, and enveloped you in a gentle, heartfelt hug. The two of you stayed there for quite some time, ignoring everyone else around you because they didn’t matter.

[jostkiyborsch-pll]

gepard fluff, I suppose? English is not my first language, I apologise in advance<33

_

the howling of the icy wind outside the window takes you away from reading, makes you cast a discontented glance at the snow-covered street. after a few seconds of mindlessly drilling the unfortunate window that is almost creaking from the pressing elements with unfocused eyes, you return your gaze to the page, wandering through it in search of the last line you read.

the book is stupid and not at all catchy, but anything is better than staring at the ceiling in an attempt to overcome boredom. the bad weather causes excessive melancholy, as if specifically pointing out the cold in the house, the emptiness.

it's really empty.

on such days, gepard is loaded more than usual. the snowstorm greatly interferes not only with your mood, but also with his work. he leaves before dawn and returns late at night. with a heavy sigh, you spin around on the couch, putting aside the stupidest romantic novel you've ever seen somewhere to the side. maybe gepard will throw it into the oven by mistake?

it's boring, lonely and very cold. it doesn't help to feel absolute lack of desire to do anything. it's a shame to the point of horror that you can't spend time with him at all. however, it is not clear who to take offense at in this situation. it is impossible to balme gepard though — there is nothing for him to be blamed for.

gepard is affectionate, infinitely kind. he caresses timidly and very gently, all the time afraid to harm, hurt. although sometimes it seems that he simply does not know how to "hurt". as if he physically couldn't offend.

gepard is reliable. the best one, especially if you can persuade him to spend the weekend in bed, under a heavy, warm blanket, intertwining his limbs with yours in an attempt to keep the tender warmth.

gepard himself is warm. so, so much that sometimes he's even hot, but you don't want to complain at all. you want to hug, stroke until he purrs. for some reason, you're certain that he definitely knows how to purr, quietly and timidly.

you sigh heavily, fighting the urge to hit the cold back of the sofa. It's soft, but gepard is softer. and warm. you close your eyes, remembering past evenings when he could have come home on time. he'd find you somewhere in the house and cling to you so tightly that it seemed if he hadn't, he would have fallen to the floor the moment he crossed the threshold. he buried his face in your neck, trying to warm his frozen nose, hugged so hard and tightly that you just wanted to melt. he held so securely that you wanted to cry.

gepard is domestic, from the frosted, sparkling from the ridiculous amount of snowflakes there, crown of his head to the very tips of his fingers. while no one sees, he's the softest and a little bit lazy (but only early in the morning, when even you can't see), the dearest.

you want to be with him, even if it's been a blizzard outside for the third day in a row, and there's not a single interesting book in the house.

that's probably why when gepard comes home late at night, you're already lying in bed and pretending to be asleep. to hear a quiet exhalation, along with which the tension goes away from his body. to hear the clatter of metal, the jingle of buckles and the slight creak of springs. to rather feel than hear the sagging of the mattress and the cold skin against your own. to feel his warmth again, the cold nose he hides on your shoulder. to finally hear him purr — happily snuffling, instantly falling asleep.

[specialagentlokitty]

Giles x autistic!teen!reader - watch over you

Could you do one where Giles (maybe father figure or something like that) comforts an autistic reader who has a meltdown and starts to hurt themself (you can pick the situation which causes the meltdown)? Much Love XoXo - @schokoshock 💜

Wondering through the school, you hit your hand against your shoulder as you tried to find somewhere to go out of the way.

You wondered the hallways and stopped, trying to figure out where to go.

“You should be in class.” Mr Snyder said.

You shook your head and turned around, walking away from him.

“I’ve had it up to here with your behaviour (L/N)!” He called after you.

You heard him shout at another student and you flinched a little, quickly making your way further away.

You balled your hand into a fist, and you unballed it, doing that a few times before you went to scratching your arm.

Walking into the library, you saw a few others in there and you shook your head, turning around.

“(Y/N)?” Xander asked.

Shaking your head, you left and went to your usual hiding spot.

You didn’t know what else to do, or where else to go, so you simply went into the abandoned classroom on the far side of the school.

Sitting down against the wall, you rocked back and forth a little bit, picking at the skin of your nails.

You kept shaking your head, trying to clear it, gather your thoughts and calm yourself down, but you just couldn’t.

You were so far lost in your own thoughts you barely heard the door opening, but you did make the out the sound of footsteps coming closer.

You however did, and you grabbed the nearest thing to you which was a book you kept in there and threw it.

“Go away!” You yelled.

“I.. I can’t do that, not while you’re in this condition.”

You shook your head, and Giles sighed softly, crouching down in front of you.

“Xander and Willow told me you came by the library, Buffy said she saw you in the hallways but you seemed rather vexed. What ever is the matter?” He asked quietly.

“I.. I don’t… I don’t..”

You shook your head, and you covered your ears, burying your face into your knees.

“Alright, alright. It’s alright (Y/N), remember this is your quiet space, it.. it’s a safe space here right?”

You nodded your head.

“Safe space…” you whispered.

“That’s correct, a safe space. Somewhere quiet, away from everybody else, a place that only you know off, yes?”

You nodded again, and Giles smiled a little bit.

“So there will be no shouting, or loud music, or rather offensive smells, just you, your books, and that’s it.”

You lifted your head, moving your it hands to your knees, and you tapped your fingers against your knees.

You glanced around the room.

“(Y/N), would you like to come to the library?”

“No!”

“Alright, you don’t have to of course. We can stay here.”

You carried on rocking a little bit.

“There’s.. there’s people in there… I don’t.. I don’t want to be with people. No people today. I don’t want to be here.”

“That’s alright, remember? It’s alright not to want to be around people, sometimes we don’t enjoy being with people, sometimes we wish to be on our own.”

You nodded.

“Do you wish to be left alone?”

You glanced at Giles before turning away.

“You can stay. I want you to stay Mr Giles.”

He smiled at you, adjusting himself so he was sat down on the floor.

“Then I’ll stay, would you like me to uh.. read you that book you enjoy?”

“I don’t have it. I left it in the library.”

“That’s alright, I can go get it and bring it back if you’d like?”

You stood up and Giles did the same thing, and you carried on picking at your nails absentmindedly.

“I will come.”

“Alright, but we must be quick before lunch starts.”

You nodded and quietly followed behind him to the library which was thankfully empty this time.

“Alright, where would you like to sit?”

You looked around and went into his office, sitting on a chair and he walked in.

“Would you like some some Uhm… tea? Some.. maybe some hot chocolate?”

You shook your head.

“Alright while here, this is your book, let me leave a note on the desk and I’ll be right back.”

You took your book and Giles looked at your hands, slightly bloodied and red, and he sighed softly, crouching down in front of you.

“(Y/N) did you do this?” He asked.

“I.. I didn’t mean to..”

You began rocking a little in your chair.

“Oh no, no, no, I’m not angry at you, of.. of course I’m not angry at you, I could never be angry at you I understand how hard things can be for you. Let’s clean your hands we don’t want an infection.”

He walked across his office, bringing over a box he opened it and began taking things out of it.

Giles brought a chair over, and he sat in front of you.

“May I?”

He held out his hand and you gave him yours.

“It doesn’t seem too bad, but this will hurt a little bit so o do apologise.”

Giles gently began to clean the injuries, and you looked around the office, shaky breaths coming out.

“Would you like to tell me what happened?”

“Everybody started to shout… and I don’t like it when they shout Mr Giles, I.. I don’t like it…”

“I know you don’t, is that why you left?”

You nodded and gave him your other hand to clean and put bandaids on your fingers where you had hurt yourself accidentally.

“That’s alright, you did the right thing by leaving.”

“Mr Synder shouted at me.. he’s going to shout at me again Mr Giles..”

You began to hit your leg and he stopped, placing his hand on yours.

“Come now, don’t do that to yourself, please don’t hurt yourself. Hold my hand alright? I don’t want you to hurt yourself, you don’t deserve that.”

You gripped the teachers hand tightly and he smiled a little at you.

“Don’t let him shout at me…”

“Now (Y/N), don’t you worry a thing about that Synder, I’ll have a word with him and I can assure you everything will be alright.”

“What if he shouts at me?”

Giles smiled a little bit.

“Have I ever lied to you?”

You shook your head and glanced at him before looking away.

“Exactly, so I can assure you now everything will be alright. Would you like to stay in here for the rest of the day?”

“Will you read to me?”

“Of course I will, I’ll go gather your work now, then I’ll come back and we’ll have a look at that book of yours.”

You nodded your head and he smiled, tapping your hand a few times and you did the same thing back before you let go, wiping your hands on your shirt.

He didn’t take it personal, he was used to it at this point.

“Stay right here.”

With that, Giles left and his smile turned into a scowl as he marched through the hallways to the principals office and he slammed the door shut.

“You will leave (Y/N) alone.” He warned.

“That delinquent has missed and walked out of enough classes, you can’t keep protecting teenagers like this.”

Giles walked over, towering over Snyder.

“(Y/N) has struggles with certain aspects of every day life, you are not helping with making this easy.”

“I’ll make no exceptions.” Snyder snapped.

Giles grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him into the filing cabinets behind him.

“Would you like me to convince you?” Giles said lowly.

Synder shook his head.

“Fine, but you are the sole point of contact for that student, which means anything they do now reflects on you.”

Giles let him go and offered a smile.

“Fine by me. Thank you.”

Giles left, making his way back to the library, and he walked in, sitting on the floor next to you where you had moved.

He smiled softly at you and held out his hand.

“What page were we on?”

“189.”

“Wonderful, at least one of us can remember.” He chuckled.

You smiled a little bit and nodded your head and you tapped your hand on your leg as you listened to him read.

Giles glanced at you, then went back to looked at the book he was reading from, aware that you were okay and you only tapped like when you were content

[arsonalle]

♱ ‧ shoko + satoru + suguru + you

imagine ... an AU where you're friends with Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru

###

;; manga spoilers . no plot . lazy writing . blood, very very light 'gore' . run on sentences because I like how they read . rushed ending . lowkey self deprecating . angst? its really badly written . starts in the past and randomly jumps to present time . made up future past chapter 256 . weird formatting, not linear at all . probably skipping major events that happened in the past but idg2f . big Raga & crew strike again . mentions of shipping/relationships . no caps/random caps . potential spelling/grammar errors . death

songs ;; lady killer ii, i want all original mixshark, army dreamers, taking whats not yours, not allowed, the boy is mine (ariana), skyfall, coming down x hotline bling, girl with the tattoo x break from toronto, sweet crazy love (odd eye circle), midas touch, love fire (psychic fever)

You and Shoko get along like two peas of a pod. You hated that she smoked at first, but now you're used to it, and the smell is oddly comforting. You go shopping together and cringe at Satoru whenever he does something off or weird or is just oblivious to some things around him. You go on missions(? I forgot what theyre called...) with her just to get things done, and you guys work great together. although she usually just tags along for something akin to moral support. Your life without her would be boring, like it would without the other two.

You and Satoru are weirdos together. You contradict whatever you say about him when you're with Shoko and you guys are absolute cornballs. But you love every second of it. You hang out together sometimes, just the two of you, and every time you do you feel the piece of you that craved solitude break off and mold into something that glows in the presence of others. You can't beat his closeness with Suguru, although sometimes you try, but you're okay with that. Being too greedy never leads to anything good

You and Suguru don't hang out much in person unless you're with the other two, which is pretty often so I take that back. You text him the most, though, when you want a second opinion on anything that would take you threatening Satoru to give a serious answer for. You have deep talks with him sometimes. He's surprisingly good at giving life advice now, although maybe its because of the constant crisis's that you and the other two have. You go out to eat a lot with him when you do hang out just the two of them, and he almost always pays. He's good company, calmer than Satoru and a bit more insightful than Shoko. He's still Satoru's friend, though, so he's goofy when he wants to be. He's a good balance, though, so you don't mind it.

. . .

When the three of you graduate its an interesting time. You feel so unaccomplished, but Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru never once let you feel like that for too long. The feeling always comes back, though. You can't help it.

Satoru is...Well, hes Satoru Gojo. Is there really a need for explanation there? He's the best sorcerer jujutsu has seen in at least a millennia. Or something like that. You can't remember exactly what was said...

Suguru is fucking amazing. He can keep up with Satoru far better than anyone else can, because he's talented in his own right. Curse manipulation. That shit could change the jujutsu world for better or for worse. Its too bad it turns out to be for the worse, though.

Shoko's reverse cursed technique isn't for offensive use, but it's still impressive. She can pretty much heal anyone, bring them back to life, maybe. How can you compete with that? She's a valuable asset to the jujutsu world where people get hurt and die on the daily.

And you? You're not much, admittedly. A few generic cursed techniques here and a pretty basic simple domain there are the most that you can manage at your best. Surrounding yourself with outliers like Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru couldn't be good for your long term health, but at least they made you happy for the short term.

. . .

When Suguru makes the decision to disassociate with jujutsu tech and create his own world, things are awkward. Its just three of you now and the four-piece puzzle you created when you met them is incomplete once again. A piece of you is torn out of its place by force and blood is constantly seeping out of your every pore. This blood is thick in texture and volume, sticky, and an abnormally dark shade of red; it makes audible slop noises when it falls on the floor around you.

You want to blame Suguru for this but its not his fault you're experiencing night terrors. You're mentally weak, nothing like Shoko or Satoru who seem to be moving on. Why aren't you moving on? You need to move on. He wouldn't be having these thoughts about you, surely, so why are you having them about him? You feel selfish now, because you're positive that Satoru is feeling ten times worse than you are. The two were obviously in love. You have no right to feel the same hurt as him when you're just...an outsider.

You're an outsider now, and you'd never felt more like one than now.

. . .

Suguru is dead and Satoru finds his body. You thought you were finally getting over the loss of your friend but now everything is bubbling up to the surface again. You can only imagine how Satoru feels having seen his best friend's corpse on a day where his precious students were fighting for their lives and almost lost. You wonder if he sees the same dark blood pouring out of him. Is it from the same places as you or is it spotted? Is his the same color? Thick or is it thin? You want to ask him but thats definitely not appropriate, so you can only guess.

. . .

You were there when Satoru fought Sukuna for the last time. You weren't in tokyo at the time. You were actually at the kyoto branch of jujutsu high, for no specific reason other than to see utahime and her students. You and utahime had an interesting friendship, one you didn't really make known.

You were there when he was unsealed and you spoke to him just before he went out. You still remember what he told you, but now you wish you didn't.

"When I get back let's go for dinner, the three of us. On me."

You smiled and agreed because why wouldn't you? Plus you were pretty broke as of recently, so him offering to pay set off those little receptors in your mind that screamed "Give me dopamine".

You were there, and you watched with Shoko as the battle unfolded. You knew she was anxious, as anxious as you were. Satoru was both of yours's best friend, even though you two probably weren't his. Girls had to stick together, and you squeezed your hand as the two of you waited. Waited for the battle to be over and Sukuna to be speared in half. For Satoru to march back up, cocky as always, and proclaim is victory. For him to come back to you. To Shoko.

But he never came back.

His body stayed on the field for as long as it did before they took it.

Why are you surrounded by so much death? Everyone around you is dropping dead like fucking flies. It was three of you and now its two. Why is everyone lying to you? Playing with your heart? They know you aren't as headstrong as maybe you should've been as a jujutsu sorcerer and they're playing with you. They have to be. This wasn't where you saw yourself in 2006 when the only thing on your mind was Suguru's next birthday present and swapping out Shoko's smokes for candy ones, hoping she wouldn't realize and gradually stop smoking.

You don't feel the blood leaking from you, though, because you have no more to give. Now your heart just hurts and you wish it would end. You knew that because of the nature of jujutsu sorcery that there was a chance everyone involved could die. But who would have ever thought Satoru Gojo, the strongest, could die like this? You sure didnt.

Its you and Shoko now. The girls are sticking together like they should be, you guess. You can't stay too upset, though. You know that Suguru and Satoru are probably playing peekaboo behind you and making fun of your crying face. Its up to you and Shoko now to carry the weight of everything on your backs now. For your fallen friends.

. . .

You move back to tokyo after everything is said and done. You should've probably moved to another country and quit jujutsu, go to canada or something, but you can't leave the very thing that changed your life just like that. You're resolved to become stronger now, pay back everyone and everything that took your life away. Took your friends away.

You become a teacher at tokyo's jujutsu high. You meet Yuji and Nobara and Megumi; they're good kids. The most interesting first year right now is Maki, though. She's almost a repeat of that man, the man that you don't really like speaking about for pretty obvious reasons, but she's a great student. An even better person, you think.

You hang out with Shoko often, usually at lunch and on the weekends. Things aren't normal without two guys dwarfing Shoko in size and sticking to the outside of you two's sides like sandwich bread, but life is moving on. You take Satoru's death a bit better than Suguru's. Whether it was because your feelings didnt reach as deep for him as they did for Suguru, or because you were somewhat desensitized now, you were thankful that Shoko was still there for you, and you were there for her.

Until you weren't.

Things were relatively normal, but just as fast as you can flip your hand, they weren't.

Curses and curse users emerged again, on a slightly lesser scale than they did in shibuya, but on the same level as they were in the culling games, and you weren't prepared.

You're in a sort of limbo now, living in your own head, reading off your own thoughts. You wonder if this is how Suguru and Satoru felt. Everything is silent and for some reason you're calm. You should feel bad for leaving Shoko all alone but you don’t.

Maybe it’s because you know that she’ll get over you faster than she came to terms with Satoru and Suguru’s deaths, or maybe it’s not.

The only thing you feel right now is peace. You wish her the best because you know that she’ll keep on living, carrying with her your legacy. The legacy of you, Satoru, and Suguru, and she’ll make sure she does everything she can to save the people that she can.

After all, she can join you after her passing and have nothing to show for it. You’ll surely make fun of her for that.

arsonalle 2024

[keischreiber]

The Things We Don't Say

◆ Pairings: Reiner Braun x Reader ◆ Word count: 1,635 ◆ Contains: Angst ◆ Additionally: SFW; This hasn't been proofread.

◆ Synopsis: ... it felt like sin to keep staying this way.

"You're... here again." He said, an ounce of comfort could be heard in his voice. 

He's been here for as long as he can remember. Sterile walls were all he knew, along with the silence that came with it. Sometimes, he would be entertained when engaged by the medics with small talk... however, he could hardly remember what it was that they were talking about in the first place. 

He'd catch bits and pieces from time to time, but nothing gets retained permanently. Reiner wished that he did, so that he could hold better conversations rather than simply nodding or looking apologetic when someone brought up something that he should know, only to be disappointed with his lack of knowledge about them. 

The most frustrating thing about the entire thing was perhaps, deep down, he knew that wheat he no longer knew had been important. He could tell when the visitors who claimed to be his 'friends' looked at each other, only to look back at him as if they had done something wrong. They'd often apologize, saying that they shouldn't have pushed too much for him to remember; but he had never once felt the need to get mad at them for it. 

After all, he hoped they'd simply keep on talking, then maybe he could remember something other than just his name...

... and sometimes, even that escapes him. 

However...

"What, you getting tired of my face already?"

... there was always one person who came on a daily basis. For as long as he could remember, they've never missed a day. For the majority of the time, they were simply silent. They'd tend to the little things that could have been taken care of by the nurses on duty. And even if one came and they were around, they'd simply thank the medic while still helping out. He remembers because they do this every day. 

Every day, they'd bring him something to eat. Warm, comforting, easy to consume; something that increased his appetite compared to the hospital food that he had gotten accustomed to. These daily meals, he looked forward to and he couldn't even bring himself to understand why. Sometimes, they'd bring him something sweet too, hard candies. They explained that if he suddenly gets a headache out of nowhere, he should eat one and it'll make him feel better. Most of the time, it did. 

They never really spoke much about themselves; often preferring to stay silent while sitting by his bedside. 

"N-no. I'm... sorry if I sounded like I didn't want you around just now." 

Reiner couldn't help but apologize. Always, he'd expect that they'd take offense with him, but they never did. Always just an understanding smile, and a few words like 'it's alright' or something similar, and then nothing more. 

Today as well, it's the same thing. They've been bringing a book with them lately, and simply read silently beside him. Reiner, who didn't know what sort of conversation to start, simply watched them in silence as he laid in bed, tucked beneath a warm blanket— an additional layer to his usual pristine white sheets. It's been getting colder lately. Maybe that's why they brought it for him. 

As he studied his quiet visitor, he couldn't help but notice how visibly thinner they seemed. He didn't know why he noticed it just now, but perhaps it was because they were always around; worse, maybe it was just because he couldn't remember. They also looked drained... more tired than usual. 

He wanted to say something, anything, but in the end... he couldn't.

For a moment, he can't help but feel pathetic not even remembering their name. It's not as if he hadn't asked. They simply never give it. 

Reiner had a little notebook, you see, where he lists down the names of those who visit him. 

Jean Kirstein

Connie Springer

Mikasa Ackerman

Armin Arlert

Annie Leonhart

Pieck Finger

Gabi Braun

Falco Grice

Historia Reiss

He even wrote his mother's name, "Karina", just so he'd never forget.

In front of his notebook was his name, something that admittedly, was something that he hadn't written. Somehow, at some point, he felt like there was no need to remember... but it was them, they wrote it down for him. 

Behind that cover page, was a small note that he looks at every day after he wakes up... every night before he sleeps. 

— You're worth every thought.

Despite the silence, there was something oddly relaxing about their presence. Sometimes, when they catch him staring, they'd hide their face in their book. Reiner would blink slightly and before long, would realize that he'd already have chuckled at them. The red on their cheeks would catch his interest, but he never pursued any more than that... for their comfort. 

Hours would pass like this up until the time when they have to leave. 

There would be instances where he'd drift off by accident, and when he awakens they'd no longer be there. Today however, was a little different. 

"Are you leaving?" 

They were caught off guard when Reiner spoke, but despite that, simply wore a smile and nodded. 

"I have to, for today."

Came the response. For them, it was easier to leave when he was asleep.

"Say," As they stood, Reiner sat himself up. "Can't you tell me your name?" 

"I... maybe another time." And they moved with the speed of a guilty man, one that Reiner couldn't understand. Something that, in fact, he didn't want to. Why did he have to wait for the next time that he knew would surely not come. If they wanted to introduce themselves, they'd have done it a long time ago. 

Just as his guest reached the door, Reiner was following suit, ready to stop them to get his answers. 

"Wait! Don't go!"

But before he could catch them, they had already made their exit, shutting the door behind them on their way out. 

Just as he was about to slam his fist on the door, there was a soft thud that came from outside, as if something collided with the door. 

They didn't leave...? He thought to himself. "Why... won't you say anything?" 

Despite his voice being loud enough, he was met with silence; one that made him press his forehead against the door. 

Unbeknownst to him, the person on the other side had done the same. Separated between a slab of wood... so near but felt like they were seas apart. 

"There's a girl who visits me here... made my heart race the first few times. I would’a married her at any given time, at any given place. That's what crossed my mind at first... but it's not the same... not the same as... whatever this is!" 

He didn't know what he was saying; his mind all muddled and confused, trying to pump out reasons to get the person on the other side of the door to talk. 

"...But it's different with you." He felt frantic. "You make my pulse race in a different way. If I couldn't remember her name, it felt awful... much like when I can't remember the others. But not being able to remember you..." 

They could hear Reiner getting choked up on the other side.

"... feels wrong." It eats him up inside. Whenever he stared at them, he felt his gut wrenching as if he was neck-deep in sin. It felt wrong, felt devastating... felt like a part of him was repeatedly being ripped out of his chest again, and again, and again.

"Did you mean something to me, did I love you?" At this point, he just wanted to say everything that came into his mind before they disappeared. "Because it feels like I do..." 

"You were the one that wrote it, weren't you? You're worth every thought." He repeated the words that he woke and slept to every single day. 

"Please... can't you tell me what you are to me? Let me think about you, let me remember you. Please..." He'd have burst out of that room if he could, however, he was afraid that they'd run away from him if he did. 

"I'm—" When Reiner heard the faint sound of their voice, silence ruled for a few good moments. He was trying to catch any sound that he could. Anything at all. 

On their end, they had been sobbing. Holding a hand to their mouth to muffle the sound as they listened to his plea. A name should have been the easiest thing to give, yet for them, it became the hardest. 

After all there was guilt attached to the name. 

How could they make Reiner remember... that the reason he was here in the first place was because of them. Having saved them led to him being here in the first place... with both of them having almost died in the process. 

Hearing him cry on the other side of the door made them wonder if they were being selfish about the matter. Reiner was bawling on the other side, pleading when there hadn't been a need to beg in the first place. 

It wasn't long before the handle turned and the door would open again. Both of them were a mess.

"I'm..." 

Their voice was meek, the words choked up. But the moment Reiner had heard their name, he pulled them without so much as a single thought, wrapping his arms around them tightly, the door being shut tight behind them. 

It wasn't as if hearing their name made him remember. But more so, the instincts of his body simply kicked in. 

A different feeling from that girl he thought he wanted to marry... 

A different feeling from long time friends visiting... 

... but simply a feeling that his heart automatically knew meant the world to him. 

[goldenpinof]

Idk if it’s too much to ask, but can you elaborate by any chance on how dd was alienating? I’ve never really watched it, and I breezed through a few to try to understand, but I still don’t get it 😞😞 It kinda just seemed like a longer version of his older videos with a bigger production?? Or am I wrong??? If you, or anyone else, could help me that’d be great! If not it’s okay, hope you’re having a lovely day!

it's not too much to ask, don't worry! it's gonna be too much to read for you, though, and i'm sorry for that :)

original anon, please, come back! i would also like to know your and others' thoughts on what felt wrong with dd.

i wasn't alienated, so i can only point own differences and traits (??) that weren't balanced out right away by either Phil or Dan himself. in dd videos Dan is ruder than usual and it feels less like banter. like, he is purposefully rude, loud, mean, annoyed, and offensive in a way. and if usually, you understand that it's not real because Dan either laughs or his "collaborator" laughs genuinely or gets on board and plays along – here it wasn't like that? or it wasn't like that always. during dd he was saying stupid and harmless things but the delivery was like he was punching someone with his words. gladly, Dan is a bad actor, so it was just awkward most of the time (at least to me), and that indicated that he was just fucking around and all of these is his weird concept of satire. there was a "i don't really wanna be here" vibe sometimes. some topics of the videos were purposefully boring and their point was to show that youtube is full of recycled content and there is so little originality on the platform? (allegedly! this is one of my understandings). he definitely tried to explain the whole big concept of dd somewhere, i just don't remember where (probably in a liveshow), and video descriptions can be very telling as well. also, he was using his fandom A LOT. we were giving him content, 45% of dd is phandom-based videos. it can weird people out, i can understand that. i'm not a huge fan of all these twitter screenshots and Dan reading them out loud. but as a part of a bigger concept i can let it slide.

anyway, for me it felt a bit disingenuous. like he would rather do anything else or nothing at all than dystopia daily. but his "annoyed at everyone and everything" dd persona fit into that. so i'm not mad it exists. it's a fucking concept and a half. and it's so funny to look at it and not take it seriously. there were good, cute and genuinely funny moments. just, the whole thing still feels like it was a challenge to youtube. and like he wanted to bait people. i don't know, i haven't rewatched any of the videos. my thoughts are based on memories.

i think in the beginning Dan was like: am i doing what i want to do (and there's no budget around); am i doing what youtube algorithm wants from me?; or am i doing what the audience wants? and he tried to create a piece of content that fit all three categories, and create it very fast. and that's why dd was such a roller coaster.

i'd like to hear the original anon :)

[niigata-division]

ARB Birthday Special: Lyall Shiba

~~ January 21st ~~

“To forget the dead would be akin to killing them a second time.”

Login Lines:

“Sorry, I’m a bit busy with a case at the moment if you could just…eh? Is this a gift?” 

“My birthday? Oh shoot, it’s today, isn't it? Thanks for reminding me. Now then, if you excuse me, I need to focus on my case.” 

Voice Lines:

“25 years old…if you had told me a few years ago I’d reach this age, I wouldn’t have believed you…or more accurately I would have been too drugged out of my damn mind to understand what you were saying.”  

“My phone has been blowing up all day from my fans sending me Happy Birthday on PROFILE, so I placed it on silent. Not that I’m ungrateful, but I always assumed that with my retirement I’d fade out of the spotlight, but I assume not.” 

“I had a dream last night…and I saw him just standing there with that goddamn smile on his face and…I just got so angry when I saw him that I wrapped my hands around his pathetic little neck and tried to choke him…I hate him.”

“I lit a few candles on my altar to send a few prayers to Anubis and Thoth. It’s a tradition I do every year on my birthday. Mainly, I pray that the next yearly cycle of my life is a good one, but considering I’m in the DRB this year I’m not holding my breath on that one.” 

“Ah shit….I mean, hey Chief, I haven’t caused any trouble lately, so what brings you here? Oh wow, I didn’t think you’d remember it was my birthday. Awwww, I always knew you liked me, Chief! Maybe I'll even break my record for the longest amount of time without giving you a migraine. Ouch, so cold, Chief.” 

“Uhhhhh….Chief? Is this a get-out-of-jail-free card? Okay, but why? Well, I better make sure to save for when I get into some major trouble then. Anubis knows I seem to always be in your office every other day.”  

“Oh Hey Ayumu-san, I take you here to wish me a Happy Birthday too. Just a bit. I owe my life to you, Ayumu-san. It's because of you that I’m still here to celebrate my birthday. I can’t thank you enough for that. Easier said than done. Ah, you didn’t have to get me anything, Ayumu-san, but thank you.” 

“Oh gosh, out of the palettes, you could have gotten…ah it’s perfect Ayumu-san. Did you know this is one of my favorite bands? No offense, Ayumu-san, but I can’t imagine you listening to this band. You're too cheerful of a person for some of the songs.”

Seiji Lines:

“For once you’re not in trouble, Rookie. I just stopped to wish you a happy birthday. Of course, I did. I know the birthdays of all the officers in the department. Normally, I'd wish you a Happy Birthday and just be done with it, but given that you haven’t gotten on my nerves much recently, have this. Consider it both a gift and a reward. Nope, a migraine is starting. *sighs* Get back to work, Shiba.” 

“Of course it is. Given how often you seem to get in trouble, I would think you’d appreciate it. You can redeem it and get off scot-free from any punishment I would usually give you. Only once, though, so use it wisely, Rookie.”

Ayumu Lines:

“Lyall, can I talk to you for a second? Am I that easy to read, huh? Anyway, I'm glad to see you’ve been doing well, especially considering our…first meeting. I was just doing my job, Lyall, but if you want to thank me, just keep living your life would be more than enough. Now then, I know you're into wearing dark makeup, so I got you this as a gift.” 

“Is something wrong, Lyall? It was one of the first palettes I found when I looked up ‘goth makeup’. Really? Maybe I should listen to them sometimes. Eh? Why not? Hey, it’s not my fault. I like to see the bright side of things.” 

[corruptinmyself]

If you are unaware, Dream tends to keep quiet about how overwhelmed he is over the villagers. He cries alone in the forest to hide his pain and suffering. Itay not be the same as 'bullying' but Dream most-likely grew mental issues from this; an example is trust issues.

If I remember correctly, Dream usually overworks himself, I also have this head canon where Dream always believed P!Nightmare was lucky, that he was better than him. Here's a sentence I made from one of my stories that included this head canon:

"Why couldn't I be like him? Left alone and able to read and write... Allowed to do what I want.. why does Nighty get all the time he needs or wants? Why couldn't I be left alone to learn.. I wanna read, I wanna write, I wanna be whoever I want, not some dumb guardian..."

I might write more, but I think this seems good enough. Basically, both brothers think the others' life was better, I think this was a good head canon, do you have head canons for Dreamtale?

I am eating that head canon up like a 5 star meal I love it!

For dreamtale headcanons I do like rather popular ones like passive and corrupted are the same person dadmare etc, but sometimes I like the idea of passive and corrupted being semi the same person? The idea I have of it is when Passive ate the apple and got corrupt his personality kind of..split over many years? I’m not meaning similar DID but I mean genuinely split. Like all the hate and anger kind of made Corrupt whilst the more sad and lonely was kept for Passive. Emotions on either can collide but it would be extremely rare. To add to this, only Passive or Corrupt can control their body at a time - with the other existing as a ghost or something similar that only the other can see and hear; but most of the time it would be Corrupt.

This is only a basic concept that does still need some work on it and I made it many years ago with a multiverse I made and am still adding to (once I gain a certain amount of confidence I might share tid bits I don’t know) so I guess it could be counted as the first head canon I made lol.

if that didn’t make any sense to whatsoever feel free to ask for elaborations!

(or if I’ve accidentally worded something poorly and offensively if so I’m extremely sorry)

also shouldn’t you be sleeping?

[canidkid]

If requests are open, can you do headcanons for toddler-regressor! Aditya Singh (from Sweet Tooth)? If not, that’s totally fine <:)

This took a bit but!! We love to create niche content on this account >:]]

I tried to keep it fairly lighthearted for the sake of it being a Tumblr post - so I hope I still did your rq justice!!

Toddler Regressor Aditya Singh 📐🩹🐛🪐🧸

+ caregiver Rani Singh

The autistic urge to Know Why

Rani can not cook without supervision. It's illegal

he wants to know about everything going into the food he loves. It doesn't matter if she's making the same thing he's already watched her make dozens of times before!

Also likes to help in the kitchen!! Rani trusts him enough to do some chopping sometimes, but usually, he's the designated taste tester and "mixer man"

He has such bad coordination when he's small it's almost funny. He ends up with bruises odd places because he just..forgets where his limbs are

Particular about daily schedules and gets evil when something isn't going as planned

also goes for when he goes small unexpectedly (he will not be having a good time…)

Also super picky with toys and clothes!

He likes puzzle toys to fiddle with. it doesn't really matter if he's solving them. Big big texture preferences. If there's something offensive to the touch in his vicinity, he will have to take drastic action!!! And toss it as far away as possible. (Evil Sherpa blankets…..) Clothes most always end up with the tags cut out.

Gets very very into projects and loses track of absolutely everything else

projects like crafts or finishing a book/research paper/article he's reading

He may go down pretty young but his interests don't change much. He's still capable of comprehending anything he would be able to in adult headspace - he's just bad at deciding what could be distressing to his younger self

so during a longer stretch of being small, the electronics usually end up confiscated. Because that little guy would go ahead and watch medical videos, then cry about it later

Processing events through play

He has a toy doctor's kit and a little hoard of plushies, so if he's had a difficult day at his work, he'll go through particularly nasty events by reenacting them. (Think what bluey did in the episode when the budgie died)

If he's not busy with something, he is out cold.

A lot of his downtime is literally just napping. To the point where he and Rani joke about his regressed self as being a little narcoleptic.

If they aren't actively cuddling up, Rani will just walk into a room (after noticing a suspicious amount of peace and quiet) and find Adi face down on the nearest soft surface

Rani is his CG!

Obvious choice here - but she loves her husband, and she loves when he's her kiddo too. They don't have any particular titles for one another, but Rani will still use the classic pet names like "honey" - "sweetheart" - "buddy" - and so on!

!S2 spoilers if you squint!

[CW for distressing themes & bad mental health]

At the preserve:

Little dude was going through it..

Barely keeping up with his basic needs took such a toll on his already wonky mental health that he'd end up fighting the need to regress on a daily basis - which he'd never had to before

Rani tried to be as supportive as she could be, truly. She'd tell him stories on the nights he did come to bed - religious tales, bits and pieces of children's media she remembered, or just doing her best to make something up

That was the extent of it. There was no time to break down and process, neither according to the world outside nor in Adi's preoccupied mind.

Mars writing for characters other than its own blorbos?!?! Unheard of!!!

[one-vivid-judgment]

Good day~ I hope it's okay to request something? If so, can I request sfw/nsfw headcanons for my beloved Y7 man - Takabe Mamoru, please? Thank you~

To tell you the truth, before deleting your previous blog, I read all your posts, but never commented or requested anything, because I was a bit shy. Well, I still am. I remember you wrote something about disliking your RgG writings and the reason why you deleted them. But I actually really liked them, no matter how bad or silly or ooc or whatever they were in your opinion. I just liked them and the way you wrote about different things/characters. What I wanted to say that time? Hm... I'll say it now - you're a great!

~ Takabe Anon

First of all, I'd like to thank you for this kind message! Honestly, back then I didn't have the best relationship with writing and I always ended up thinking that whatever I wrote was garbage after some time; I even contemplated deleting my whole AO3 account and never going back, though thankfully that did NOT happen. It would've been a disaster if I had let the nasty thoughts win.

Thankfully, that has changed now (who would've thought that actually developing a good writing schedule and actually being kind to yourself would do that to you, huh?), but I do feel bad for deleting it all and I'd like to apologize for it, even if it doesn't change anything. There were people who genuinely loved them, and now it's all gone and they can't enjoy them anymore. This is like trying to "re-build" all that, in a way, though hopefully my writing has improved in these two years or so that I've spent away from here! 

Anyway, here they are! 

Takabe headcanons (SFW + NSFT)

• A good ol' gentleman. Will open doors for you, pull your chair back for you, open the car door then take your hand. If you eat out, he's paying for it, not even letting you take out your wallet, no sir. Not to mention the gifts; necklaces and bracelets and things like that, which sometimes are on the VERY expensive side. Not that he minds spending money on you though. 

• He is on the protective side, almost as much as he is with his boys. You can bet that, if someone messes with you and he finds out, it's gonna take A LOT to stop him from taking matters into his own hands, depending on how severe the offense was. Murder is not on the list, but everything else is fair game for him. 

• He doesn't flaunt you around, but if someone asks, he's not about to keep you a secret either. His boys tried to tease him once about you, and all he did was nod and shrug it off, no sign of embarrassment on his face. They haven't tried to pull any of that ever since. Point taken. 

• Generally pretty vanilla, actually. He's more of a love-making kinda guy—the one exception being when he's had an absolutely awful day at the office and needs to let out the stress. It's like he forgets his own strength, which usually results in many, MANY marks all over that are hard to cover up. Expect the absolute sweetest aftercare in the world to make up for that. 

• Call. Him. "Sir". He's heard that plenty from his boys, sure, but this? This is another thing entirely. Something about seeing his partner writhing under him and screaming for "Sir, give it to me harder!" Not that his boys need to know that one though. 

• Expect to be praised for the smallest things. He can't help it, he really can't. You'd be sucking him off and he'll inevitably end up petting your hair and praising you for a job well done—bonus points if said blowjob happens under his desk at the office and there is a chance you might get caught by some random Seiryu grunt.

[the-smallest-lizard-in-eorzea]

I guess I should start putting things out there about my wol and actually talk about them since it's been a bit difficult to draw things.

So this is my Warrior of Light OC, Lux Lumiux. He's a Raen Au'ra man standing at an astounding 4 feet tall. Not only is he short by auri men standards, but even his own mother is some few inches taller than he is. He's got dark skin and light colored hair that I've made blonde, but I've considered recently to possibly recolor it to a light teal type color. Regardless, though by the end of shb for plot reasons, his hair goes completely white, and his horns and scales are also irreversibly altered.

Although Lux's most noticeable trait is his lack of height, he's also selectively mute. He almost never speaks not even if someone's really close with him, and at best the most, you'll hear from him is laughter or a guttural growl. Although he's a white mage and considering how usually there's an incantation used for spellcasting to work in ffxiv, I've taken to altering it that he doesn't so much utter incantations but hum them as though they were a song. Well, at least that's when he's healing, the few offensive spells, while some he can similar hum they're more of a hiss or cry than anything, resembling a melody. While he may not talk verbally, he does on occasion use sign language if he actually has a message to get across but that's not often as Lux is a rather passive person and doesn't really ever have much to say anyhow. Yet at the same time, he's also rather expressive, so it's relatively easy to read how he's feeling based on his expression and body language alone sometimes that and he can always easily answer a yes or no question with a simple nod or shake of his head.

Small side note: he's also got impeccably neat handwriting that's really easy to read.

Lux is originally from Othard, and some years before ARR was brought to Aldenard by his father, but due to several bad things that seemingly happened all at once he was cast out into the seas and by the grace of hydealyn surfaced off the shores of Gridania bordering Ul'dah. He wound up taking residence in Gridania until eventually enlisting in the adventurers guild after a few confusing dreams that seemed to take place in the endless liminal blue of the aetherial sea. Little did he know what all those dreams would lead to.

Dreams are also an odd quirk of Lux's that came with his connection to hydealyn. While sleeping, he can connect to others' dreams and subsequently invite them into his. For a while, though, he mainly only ever saw the memories or dreams/nightmares of others, but as time went on, he unintentionally began pulling others into his nightmares. Although this ability is fairly limited as often, it's hard to remember dreams and nightmares once you've woken up and because of the lack of worldly logic it's hard to really know who's dreams he's witnessing, especially since he's bound to the logic of one's dreams too so anything bad or good that happens in the dream he cannot change or alter. Similarly so the same holds true to those that get pulled into his dreams.

[fanfic-lover-girl]

Being Blocked by Writers

I want someone's opinion on blocking fanfic readers. When you don't like a comment someone writes, do you instantly block them or give a warning and then block them?

I have been blocked a handful of times. Around 3 times I think. For three separate reasons.

Case 1: I commented on a fanfic I hated. The story was so awful and I only enjoyed the small parts with Draco Malfoy. I commented at the end saying the parts I found great and where I found the author treated certain characters unfairly. I was blocked and my comment was deleted. Not that I cared. The author only seemed to want adoration in the comments section and the fic was trash. I should have just left the fic alone.

Case 2: I commented on a fic I liked and I was asking the author about different plot points because I was that into it. I made a post about this incident last year. I told the author that certain parts did not make sense to me and offered different ideas I found interesting. The author did not seem bothered and we had a pretty good back and forth. But then I got blocked. No, that's not right. The author made it so only AO3 users could read the fic. I was not an AO3 user at the time. I thought the author did it because of me but maybe I should give the benefit of the doubt. I am inclined to believe it was a tactic to avoid me because all my comments were deleted when I curiously checked the fic once I became a user. Honestly, I lost interest in the fic after being "blocked". The author commented on one of my Draco fics a few weeks and I just smiled in irony.

Case 3: I commented on a fic I liked and I may have accidentally insulted the author. My problem is that sometimes I treat comments like a discussion with an author. Sometimes writing does not convey tone very well. I expressed being worn out by the fertility issues in this fanfic in one chapter review after writing glowing reviews for almost 60 chapters. I think the author has PCOS so maybe they found the comment personally offensive. The comment itself was not disparaging to the author or the characters. It could have been worded a bit better but who edits their comments like a freaking school paper??

As much as it pains me to say this as a young woman, blocking hurts me. I comment on like 99.9% of the fics I read. And I am not that person who only comments at the end. I comment on EVERY SINGLE CHAPTER. And usually, my comments turn into essays at least a paragraph long. It's strange reading something and literally taking notes for the comment only to remember you can't write one because you are blocked.

I think for case 2 and 3, I personally think blocking was extreme. If someone simply said "back off, keep your opinions to yourself", I would have complied and been respectful. Especially with case 3. It sucks that I was a supportive reader for almost 60 chapters, and I get blocked over one comment that may have been unintentionally offensive. Seriously? I am still reading the third fic because it's amazing and it has baby Draco Malfoy but my excitement for it has definitely diminished.

[emodennis]

1.

thank u for asking!!

how did you get into the show?

this is gonna be long because i have a complex history with the show and i love talking about it hehe

when i was 15, my friend showed me the nightman cometh and i thought it was hilarious! she then showed me some more great episodes like chardee macdennis, the dennis system, and the waitress is getting married (from what i can remember), and i was convinced to start the show.

i thought the early seasons were okay but kind of cringe and offensive and i really hated the characters so it was hard for me to get into the show. but it was still funny enough for me to keep watching. i think i stopped around season 10 after getting a bit bored with it since i still didn't like the characters.

then maybe a year or so later, i finished what was released of the show (season 13) and started rewatching some episodes i remember liking, and i started liking the show more.

then i started dating this guy when i was 19 who really loved it, and i watched the new season with him (season 14) and rewatched a bunch of episodes with him as well (it was one of the shows we had on in the background while we had sex kajshakjh and some episodes were really bad for that ☠️☠️☠️ (think the gagging scene in the world series defense)).

after that, i would rewatch episodes whenever i had nothing to watch for like the next two years, but i still didn't like the characters that much, i just found the show really funny.

then in december of 2021, i discovered the podcast, and started falling in love with rcg (i had a month-long honeymoon phase where i was blind to their problems), mostly glenn, and saw the show in a whole new light. i started liking the characters because i understood what they were doing, and falling for dennis because of how attractive i started finding him akjsdhasjkdh. once i discovered macdennis compilations on youtube and started reading fanfiction, i was done for. the really intense obsession began.

i think it took me a long time to get obsessed because my usual tv show obsessions are due to me falling in love with one character and projecting onto another character that i ship them with. and since it took me forever to fall for dennis, the obsession was quite a slow build. but i really resonated with what glenn said on the podcast, about how sometimes when you put in more work to like something, you like it so much more than things that you like right away.