#anyways i’m just projecting on them as per usual

[angel-bubbles]

A THOUGHT!!!!

david asking sam to teach him how to line dance so david can impress angel <3

this… this is so sweet, realistically i think david would be very anti line dancing bc i just know he would get so mad when he would mess up the steps (and he messed them up a lot) but then idea of him learning to impress angel <3 holding it very close to my heart

[literaila]

what does reader think of all the students at jujutsu tech ? is she like a proud mum when she meets yuji and nobara and is like "my son made friends" ? does megumi come home kn the weekends ? are they all sad when he officially starts there ?

trust that reader is everyone’s mom figure. she is the only person with any common sense, the most sane out of them all. if there’s a question that needs to be answered, reader should be the first person anyone goes to (someone might say otherwise but still)

satoru might say that you need to be a little “crazy” to be a jujutsu sorcerer, but you think he’s just projecting.

and you tell him this when you’re discussing megumi, talking about him living away from home—because jujutsu is immersive. it’s something you’re supposed to devote your lives to and you know this.

you do. really.

i mean, you lived there. you went to class with other sorcerers—satoru—and you know that you can’t half ass a career in jujutsu. you know.

but still, you can’t help but lay in bed with satoru and talk about megumi and ask him “does he really have to live there?” you’ll stare at satoru’s face. his half vacant eyes, tired from a day of work and all three of you. “he could come home at night and eat dinner. he could drive over with us.”

“what would the other first years say?”

“they wouldn’t have to know.”

you know you sound a bit naive. like a kid. but, honestly, didn’t satoru fall in love with you when you were one. why should it matter to either of you?

“what do you think nanami and haibara would’ve thought if you went home every night when you came to school?”

you give him a look, half joking. in no world would that have even been possible for you.

“okay,” he rolls his eyes. “what do you think suguru would’ve thought about me? if i went home every night to the gojo clan? or shoko?”

“they both made fun of you anyway.”

“megumi wants to go,” satoru reminds you like you don’t already know it. “do you want him to feel separated from his classmates?”

“stop,” you tell him, groaning into the side of his head. his hair smells like gumdrops and plums.

“i’m just saying,” satoru kisses behind your ear, his go-to method of distraction. “he’s a man.”

“he’s not.”

satoru shakes his head against yours, not saying anything.

“he’s not. you’re not even a man.”

the boy in question grins like this is what he was waiting for you to say. “and i still lived in the dorms, a building away from you.”

you sit up suddenly, thinking. “what if megumi falls in love with a classmate?”

satoru laughs.

“no, i’m serious—“

still, when megumi moves into his dorm room, you don’t even attempt to dissuade him. he seems… as giddy as he can get, carrying his boxes around campus like he didn’t spend half his childhood following you or satoru around.

you’re immensely glad that you agreed to work there with him in this moment. satoru says he has no idea when the other first years will show up—as per usual—and you don’t want megumi to be alone for long.

so it’s fortunate that satoru can introduce him to the now second years, and you can stand along slide megumi all the while, grinning at your pupils and nudging megumi to be polite.

you don’t get to watch satoru smile at your overprotective tendencies or proud-motherly instincts. he finds it… slightly adorable (and insanely attractive) to watch you fuss over your son like he’s a tiny little doll you can dress up.

and really, you’re just glad that megumi isn’t afraid of all of this like you were. that he had someone—two people—to show him the reins. that satoru is going to be there beside him the whole time, you just a classroom away.

yeah, you think, for just once, it’ll all be fine.

and then you get to hear all about satoru’s teaching methods from your new students (which ensues a whole… months worth of arguments).

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: still sick but still craving dick.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You drain the glass of water and cling to it. You’re at a loss of what to do next. You’re not just trapped by this man, you’re bound up in fear. It’s a real life horror movie. 

You stand and blink long and hard, trying to steady yourself. You turn, your legs stiff and straight, your movement slow as if walking through sludge. You stop and sway as you find Sy watching you from the doorway. 

No wonder you never noticed him before. He’s so quiet, you didn’t even know he was still in the room. Well, he is a soldier after all. That fact chills you more than anything. Even if you were more formidable, you still wouldn’t have a hope. 

He wears only a pair of thin gym shorts, low on his hips and displaying his thick stomach. He’s not really fat, just burly. He’s got hair fron chest to waistline, his stomach boxy with muscle but not perfectly defined. His arms are hug and bulge without flexing. 

You gulp and look down at the empty glass and walk forward. 

“I can get that, sweetie,” he offers as you come close. 

“No, it’s okay,” you murmur, “I gotta... finish up a few things anyhow.” 

He doesn’t move. His large body blocks the exit and you poke your tongue out to wet your dry lips. His eyes narrow on your mouth and he releases a heavy exhale. 

“Excuse me,” you voice quavers, “I’m just tryna... get past.” 

“Sweetie, you sound tired, maybe you should lay down,” he reaches for you and you flinch. You see him hesitate before he closes the gap, rubbing your arm with his large hand. “Hm, I could rub your feet, we could talk. We got a lot of catching up to do.” 

“I... M-maybe later, this project is a big one,” you lie. It’s really nothing. A sixty-dollar edit you could do in your sleep. “It’s a bit early, anyway, right?” 

His hand lingers as he looks down at you. His thick fingertips flutter up your shoulder and along your neck. He turns his knuckles to graze your throat before he frames your chin. 

“You’re much prettier in person, you know that?” He purrs, “especially when you smile.” 

Your lip quivers as goosebumps raise on the back of your arms, “thanks, Sy. Um, sorry, can I get through?” 

He rubs your jaw with his thumb and tilts his head. Finally he drops his hand and sighs, smacking the side of his leg as he backs up, angling to offer just enough room for your escape. As you step out, you can’t help but brush against him. 

“Mmm,” he hums, “you smell like flowers.” 

You grip the glass even tighter, “thanks.” 

“Everything about you is just so...” he trails after you, right at your heels, “perfect.” 

You don’t know what to say to that. It’s a sweet compliment but it really doesn’t feel like it. He follows you to the kitchen, once more planting himself in the doorway, his hand on the frame as he watches you. You cough and rinse the glass, leaving it beside the sink. 

You face him again and wring your hands. As you near, he moves without being told. You skirt around him and sit at the table. You try not to shake as you open the laptop. You pause but resist the urge to look around. Where’s your phone? 

You do your best to bottle up every thought. You don't want him to sense your panic. You need to stay calm until a chance comes up. You don’t know what or when, but it has to. 

You click onto Adobe Suite and reload the same project as before. He just stands there, by the wall. You're too nervous to check if he’s looking at you.  

You hear a peculiar tapping and Aika slithers past her owner. As she approaches, you swallow and brace yourself. She sits beside you and puts her head in your lap. You gape down, in relief and surprise, and daintily touch her head. 

“She likes you a lot,” he beams and walks around the other side of the table. He drags a chair out and sits, “I told her all about you. She was over there too. Sniffin’ out IEDs.” 

“Oh,” you glance at him over the laptop. “Wow.” 

A pang stabs your chest. For a moment, you feel bad for him. You can’t begin to imagine what he saw in a war. You presume being far from home is never easy but that’s all so much more intense. 

“Yeah, tough, but we made it through,” he proclaims, “easier to get on when you got something to come home to.” 

You nod and look at the screen. This is all sorts of messed up. How stupid are you? Why couldn’t you just keep a journal? Why did you have to stream your stupid life to the stupid internet? You just assumed that no one would care. Like usual. 

You drag your fingers around the touch pad, trying to focus on the actual work. That's the only real escape you have. You need to think about anything else. 

“I thought... I thought you made your money from your videos,” he says as pushes his shoulders back, his figure broader than the chair. 

“Mm, no. Um, you know, not many viewers. I edit for other people. Pictures, videos,” you answer. It’s easier to talk when you keep it clinical. “Weddings, stuff like that.” 

“Ah,” he sniffs, “well, not about how many followers you got, just that they’re good people, huh?” 

“Sure, uh, yeah,” you sputter. 

“You okay, sweetie?” His tone sharpens. 

“Sorry, I'm just... working,” your lip twitches. “You know, I just... wasn’t expecting... you. I usually work um, between videos, and I didn’t plan on doing anymore today.” 

“Huh,” he pokes his tongue into his cheek, “but you usually do one. One early, one late.” 

You shift and Aika nuzzles your thighs, huffing until your pet her again. You bite the inside of your lip as your face singes, “right, but I’m a little behind...” 

He’s quiet. You feel him staring. He probably can see right through your lies. 

“You’re a hard worker, sweetie, I woulda guessed so,” he stands and the chair scrapes loudly, making you wince, “let me get outta your way. I can wait a bit longer.” 

You don’t look up as his shadows blurs along the edge of your vision. You wait until it fades away before you dare to peek. The TV comes back to life and you exhale. It’s not exactly freedom, just room to breathe. 

🧸

You are anything but behind. You’re so desperate to dissociate, that you breeze through your current projects. In the background, Sy lurks, the couch creaking as he sits up, his footfalls against the floor as he paces, and the little clicks and clacks of his curiosity as he looks around your place. 

As your eyes begin to glaze over from the glare, he appears on the other side of the table, “hungry, sweetie?” 

You’re not. You shrug, not wanting to give the wrong answer. 

“I could order something. I know you just shopped and all but I don’t mind.” 

“You know, that’s nice but I’m still full from breakfast.” 

“Ah, yeah, that was a big one,” he agrees, “you know, those field rations made me a bit of a glutton once I got back to civilization.” 

“Oh. You’re welcome to cook for yourself or something,” you offer. 

“You gonna stay on that all night,” he points at the computer, “that sh—the light can’t be good for your eyes.” 

“No, um, I... just finished.” 

You close the laptop reluctantly. You hear the edge creeping into his timbre. He’s getting impatient. 

“Well, if you’re not hungry, how about I run you a bath? You’re tense, you should relax, sweetie,” his hands go to his hips and tugs up his shorts just a little. 

“Sure...” you murmur. 

He goes before you can say anything else. What else can you say? He’s crazy and it’s becoming more obvious by the minute. Maybe you are too for not screaming at him to leave you alone. 

Aika exhales and falls onto her side, stretching her long legs as she relaxes. Right, he’s not the only one you have to worry about. You get up and clasp your hands together. You walk around the table, once, twice, three times. 

You hear the faucet and shudder. You stop and look at Aika then the door. You could sneak out right then. Tell your neighbour there’s an intruder in your home. With all his things and his dog. And they would see him walking in with you on the cameras like everything was all good. 

Right. It’s an option but not better than the current one. You’re more likely to piss him off than get rid of him. 

“Got it running for ya,” he comes out and you push your hands down, fighting own your fear. 

“Thanks,” you say as you cross the room, “that’s so sweet.” 

“Yeah, sweetie, no problem,” he nears and you keep from shying away, “I’m just tryna take care of you.” 

“I... really appreciate it,” you eke out. 

“You just take your time,” he runs his hands up and down your arms. “Mm,” he bites his lip, “you’re just so pretty. I can’t believe you’re real.” 

Your chest wracks and your head swells. You can’t believe he’s real either. 

You force a smile and freeze as you sense him leaning in. He kisses the top of your head and purrs, “you just go get nice and fresh.” 

He releases you and reluctantly lets you go. You sidle past him cautiously. You don’t look back as you head for the bathroom. You shut the door behind you and let the air free from your lungs. Holy crud. 

You go to the tub and stare in at the rising water. You wait for it to fill up before you shake the daze. You undress and slide into the water. You lean back and grip the edges. The world is surreal. 

You’re too restless to enjoy the warmth. Usually you would find a bath soothing. You often take them with a candle burning and your favourite soap bubbled over the surface. You don’t think you’ll ever know peace again. 

You sit up and hug your knees. You sit like that for a while. You want to fall apart right there but you know you can’t. The thing that helped you so much has doomed you. 

You pull the stopper and get out. The water’s just making you cold. You dry off and wrap the towel around you. You pick up your clothes and go to the door, pressing your ear to listen to the other side. 

You turn the handle slowly and ease it inch by inch. He’s not there. You tiptoe out, vigilant as you cross the room. You turn into the bedroom and nearly let out a yelp. You didn’t really think he’d left but you could hope. 

“These are real cute,” he lays down the button up silk pajama shirt with the matching shorts. 

“Oh, uh, sure, um...” 

“Should be nice and comfy,” he faces you with a grin. 

“Well, uh, yeah, but...” you begin to argue. You don’t really sleep in those ones, you more lounge around. “Thanks.” 

You keep your arms across your chest, the tower firmly clutched around you. You look down at the set as he remains close. You wait. Is he gonna go? 

“Aren’t ya gonna put them on?” 

“Sure, uh,” you grab them, your other hand fisted around the top of the towel, “I’ll just go do that.” 

“You don’t gotta be shy with me,” he purrs, “but I guess you’re a nice girl, huh. You like to take it slow.” 

You press your lips together, “mhm.” 

You back away, wanting to run in the other direction. You turn at the door and leave him there. You can’t help but feel he’s already seen too much. 

You flit back to the bathroom and lock yourself in. You are about to combust. You tremble as you pull on the shorts, then the shirt. You hang the towel and linger by the door. 

He's really not going to leave. For whatever reason, you hoped he might call it a night and go. Why would he do that? He doesn’t do sane things. 

“Sweetie,” the knock on the door makes you jump. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, fine,” you squeak. 

The door handle wiggles. You flick the lock back and he pushes it open from the other side. He lets go of the handle and steps back, his eyes roving up and down your body. 

“Ah, sugar, you look... look real... good,” his voice is smoky as he spreads his hand over his chest. “Sweet little thing, just wanna eat you—up!” 

He surprises you as suddenly he has you off your feet. He has his arms around you as he lifts you and carries you away from the bathroom door. You yelp and hit his shoulder, wriggling and kicking. Oh no! 

“Sy, please, no,” you cry out but he ignores you, “no, no, no...” you panic finally overflow and your eyes glisten. He takes you into the bedroom and your heart pounds feverishly, “please...” you wisp before he tosses you on the bed, “don’t hurt me!” 

You bounce on the mattress and hold your hand up, bracing for his next move. When it doesn’t come, you part your fingers and look at him through them. He watches you with a line in his forehead. 

“You think I’m gonna hurt you?” He rasps. 

“I... you just caught me off guard,” you push yourself up on your elbows, “I didn’t--” 

“I was just playing,” he frowns, “having some fun with my girl. Wanted some snuggles, is all.” 

Despite it all, you actually feel bad. He sounds genuinely hurt. You sit up all the way and pout up at him, “Sy,” you utter softly, “I’m tired, I’m sorry.” 

He inhales so his broad chest rises and blows it out as he rubs his shaves head. He drops his hand and sniffs, “yeah, me too. Been a long day.” 

“So... so...” you quaver as you grasp at the last of your courage, “let’s just sleep it off.” 

His jaw ticks and he tilts his head until you hear a pop, “yeah, you’re right, sweetie. Think I just got overexcited.” 

You flutter your lashes as you hold back the wave of relief. It dissipates as soon as it rises. This isn’t over. You have a whole night ahead of you and brand new day. 

[suugarbabe]

This is not at all me projecting my own thoughts or feelings earlier today

Warnings: body image issues; major fluff; NOT proofread and written at work 💀; I think it reads pretty general neutral despite using an image that says sweet girl at the top but let me know otherwise??

It always seems to happen randomly, but at the same time you notice a pattern. You’ll be confident for days, really, truly feeling yourself. Thinking you look great in everything, noticing your confidence start to rise. And then it shifts. Usually a glimpse in a mirror or other reflective surface at an awkward angle sparks it, and tonight at the party it was the windows in the Slytherin common room. The usual view of the black lake is still there, but sans sunlight the murky view becomes black, creatures only visible if they’re nearly against the windows surface. A seemingly perfect scenario for classmates who want to party; a horrific scenario for you in this state of mind.

You had felt semi-confident earlier tonight, especially when you first entered the party with your friends and Enzo’s large hands that seems to cover the expanse of your back as he pulled you closer, chest flush to his as he kissed your forehead, “Stunning, per usual, baby.”

In your reflection now was all of your fears, all of your mistakes. Do my hips really have no shape from the front? One on your hands slid down your side as you took a long drink from your glass, your stomach dropping when you convinced yourself there was no real shape. Does my neck really look like that from the side? Oh god, what does he even see in me. Your thoughts kept you spiraling further and further.

Standing in front of the window seemed to be the only thing you could do, distracted from the party around you, not even glimmeringly aware of Enzo’s head popping above the crowd and the furrowed brow he acquired noticing you staring off into the distance of abyss that was the lake. He shoved through the crowd, easily ignoring complaints and protests to get closer to you. His hands on your hips, or lack there of in your current opinion, are what finally pulled you from your trance. You jumped slightly at the action, pushing his hands off your body quickly.

“Baby,” the sentiment left Enzo’s lips in a breathy laugh, “what’s goin on? You playing a game with me, sweet thing?” He took a step toward you, hands reaching out for you once more. When he was able to grasp hold, there was no hiding the way your body tensed. Your free hand grasped at the front of your neck, holding tight and pushing under your chin. Enzo’s face immediately turned serious, letting go of your waist and setting your cup down before lacing his fingers with yours.

Enzo guided you through the crowd, keeping you close and pushing people away as to make sure barely anyone touched you. “Oi, where you going, Berk?” Theo stopped his friend, a hand clasped on his shoulder. “I’m over the party. I’m taking them with me,” Enzo nodded towards you as he kept walking despite Theo’s protests for him to continue to party. There was no point in resisting, you knew that Enzo was determined to talk to you about what was bothering you and there was no avoiding it. You followed silently, the music of the party slowly fading as you went further up the stairs towards the dorm.

Once inside his room he let go of your hand, going to his trunk and pulling out a pair of pyjama bottoms and a tshirt, “Here, put these on.” You oblige, shedding your party clothes that you were starting to hate anyway. Enzo changed as well before climbing his lanky figure onto his bed, arms open wide and beckoning you to do the same. You walked over slowly, climbing into bed at a sloth pace, Enzo not even teasing to rush you. You settled near him, but not against him, which didn’t go unnoticed but he didn’t push immediately, instead just asking you once more, “What happened just now. By the window.” You shrugged, “I was just noticing some things is all.”

Enzo pushed slightly, “Noticing what? Your beauty?” His tone was slightly teasing, but you knew it didn’t reach him fully with the concern he was having. “More like the lack of it,” you mumbled before a small gasp left you as Enzo pulled you underneath him, his knees now straddling your hips with ease as his hands caged you in on either side of your head. You stared up at him, noticing the sad look in his amber eyes, “Why would you say that? Did someone tell you that? Am I getting in a fight tomorrow?” You smiled slightly, shaking your head. You wrapped your hands around his forearms, “You’d have to fight me then, cause I’m the only one telling myself the negative, or the truth. I haven’t quite determined yet.” Enzo frowned at this, “Baby, what are you telling yourself?”

You let out a sigh, “Just that I’m shapeless, my neck is gross, and I have no idea why you’re with me.” Enzo’s frown lines seemed to deepen with every word you spoke. You closed your eyes, wanting to avoid whatever it was he looked like he was about to say, maybe lessen the blow of the scolding he was about to give you. Instead you felt his soft lips connect with the exposed skin of your neck. “I love your neck. You know why, hmm?” His words are mumbled slightly against your skin. “Because you’re delusional?” You chide.

He laughs slightly, the notion vibrating against your jugular as he nuzzles deeper into you, “Because it holds up that big beautiful brain, what makes you, you gorgeous.” You groan with a slight smile, “Enzie…you’re being cheesy.” The smile he then adorns is sickeningly sweet, “Get ready for a platter because it’s only going to get worse.” He scoots his body down lower, nestling himself between your legs, “And I love your legs, not just burying my face between them,” he bit the inside of your thigh through the pajama pants, making you pull his hair and lift his head up, “my love, these legs brought you to me, they show how strong you are; trust me when I say I’ve had to threaten a few guys and girls for staring too long for my liking.”

A playful squeeze to your hips is next, your smile returning more naturally and encouraging him further, “And these hips, this stomach,” he pressed a kiss over the tshirt, “my favorite place to rest my head after a long day.” And just as said he laid his head on top of you, instinctively you start to play with his hair, running your nails lightly against his scalp. He hummed happily, “I can hear your heart beat like this, can hear when it slows and levels out, that’s how I know you’ve fallen asleep during movies.”

He wrapped his arms under and around you now, “now if you don’t mind, I think I’ll fall asleep like tonight.” He nuzzled his face against your stomach, really making himself comfortable. You closed your eyes, just relishing in Enzo’s affection. “Thank you,” it left your lips in almost a whisper. Enzo gave you another squeeze, “Always, Angel.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not doing my algebra work because the teacher scares me?

i know this sounds a little weird. so i am 14, in 8th grade, and have accelerated algebra that i don’t think i’m ready for. i have a really awful permanent sub that acts a lot like a high school bully imo, being really rude and just generally making me scared of going to school. she assigns a lot of homework unlike the old sub, like about 2 1/2 pages per day, and including projects for english and science, and daily spanish work, i have a lot to do with not too much time to do it.

so i usually do my homework for other classes first, because math is really difficult for me, like to the amount that i don’t know how i’m in algebra right now. so anyways, i didn’t get the chance to do all my homework for math that night, along with notes from classes i had missed from being out of school the day before. she came up to me, and she gave me a like “is this b*ch fr” look when i said i couldnt finish it all. she gave me a zero on the whole assignment that i had done half of, and i felt really anxious and sad. when i came home, my dads asked me about the zeros and i told them what happened (they knew about her being rude to me), and they said i should still do my homework even if i dont like her. i didn’t really talk back, but now i feel rude for not having done some of the work.

also, for some context on her behavior, some things shes done that really felt weird:

makes up stories to justify her being mad at people, ex one kid wanted to work with someone on a partner project, so he moved seats to work with someone, and she yelled at him for moving and said “it’s not the end of the world if you can’t work with your friends, right?” (for context, his seat partner was out that day)

yelled “you know you’re getting a zero on this assignment then, right?” when i told her i had forgotten my notebook with my homework at home

told me to “do something productive for a change” when i was on my chromebook doing i-ready lessons

yelled at some kids in first period for being late to class despite the bell being broken leaving everyone with a 2 minute passing period

just generally feels very unapproachable and makes me feel nauseous when 4th period gets close (my period)

i feel like she might just be being strict because she’s heard we’re a rude class (we were a bit annoying with the old sub), but idk honestly. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[saccharinesunsetretired]

Safe With Me | Gothbur x Reader

This took fifty years and it's not even that long MY BAD I've been working on a million writing projects at once and I'm terrible at time management. Anyway Gothbur is @abbs-writes-nsfw's creation, and I absolutely adore him, so this is mostly a gift for abbs :) sorry it is so short, but I hope you like it!

Summary: An attempt to lose your virginity to your boyfriend doesn't quite go as planned. Of course, he's a sweetheart about it.

Warnings/Tags: Virginity loss (sorta?), smut, discussions of sex/boundaries/comfort levels, mention of an uncomfortable (but consensual) past sexual experience, Gothbur is a demisexual icon and also an absolute sweetheart, brief alcohol usage but nothing crazy, hurt/comfort, reader is AFAB but gender neutral 

Word Count: 2k

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOCKS WILL BE BLOCKED

The bed had been made earlier in the day—Wilbur’s red sheets still smelled fresh. They were warm against your back, having been taken out of the dryer not long before. Clearly, he’d finished setting everything up only moments before you arrived.

It had all started with a conversation over a few drinks in Wilbur’s apartment, just two new lovers up late at night with nothing to do. You’d just started dating him after being friends with him for months. The transition felt as natural as breathing. Wilbur was a steadying force, a calming presence. It was impossible for you to be upset when he was around. At least, you were never truly upset for long.

So that’s why, after a few shared drinks and stories, Wilbur asked you for a secret. He said it jokingly, like he expected a sarcastic answer. Instead, you’d been honest.

“I’m a virgin,” you’d said. You felt your cheeks get slightly hot as you waited for Wilbur’s judgment. As per usual with him, no judgment came. “And I haven’t told you yet, because I was worried it’d…I dunno. Be a dealbreaker or something, because I’m so inexperienced.”

Wilbur’s brows had furrowed as he gazed at you. The lights in his apartment were all turned off except for the purple LEDs that lined the walls of his bedroom. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to hide that from me. It’s fine. I don’t have any issue with it.”

“…You don’t?” you asked, hesitant. 

Wilbur shook his head and scooted closer to you, setting his drink aside. He gave you the softest of smiles. “Of course not. I promise.” He rested his forehead against yours. “We’ll move at your pace, okay? Whatever feels comfortable.”

“How about soon?” The words left your lips before you could think twice about them. And then, it got worse. “Tonight, maybe?”

Wilbur laughed softly. “Sorry, darling, but I’d rather not take your virginity when we’ve both been drinking.” He gave your cheek a quick kiss. “But soon, okay? Promise.”

And he’d stayed true to his promise, because there you were—naked, lying on his clean sheets as you gazed up at him. His fingers were inside you, curling in all the right ways as you gasped and tried not to completely lose your composure. It was almost too much, the feeling of his hands on you, inside you, touching you. His face occasionally dipped down to where your neck met your shoulder so that he could press a kiss there and murmur more soft reassurances.

“You’re doing so good,” he said, voice soft and quiet. “Is this okay?” You couldn’t do anything but nod as you tried to hold back the noises that threatened to fall from your lips.

You were so, so close. You finally let yourself moan, small whines as he got you closer to the edge. “That’s it, baby, just like that,” he murmured. He pressed a quick kiss to your jaw as he continued working his fingers, pressing them to your g-spot while massaging your clit gently with his other hand. 

It didn’t take long for you to finish, panting, grasping at his wrist to make him stop his movements. He immediately caught the hint and pulled his hand away. You didn’t have words for how overwhelmed you were. It felt good, better than you could describe. Your legs trembled slightly, and they only stopped when Wilbur laid his hands gently on your thighs. “Hey, sweetheart, are you okay?” he asked. His brows were furrowed in concern as he looked down at you. “Do you need a minute?”

“I’m okay,” you said. Truth was, you were a little freaked out. It was odd, being naked in front of someone else, even if that person was just Wilbur. Every sensation felt so foreign. Sure, you’d gotten yourself off before, but this was a completely different ballpark, and you found yourself hesitant. “Can I just have a quick minute?” 

“No worries,” Wilbur said. He pressed a few kisses to your jaw. “I’ll grab a condom.” He shifted away, reaching for the bedside drawer. It gave you a moment to try and calm yourself down.

You told yourself there was nothing wrong, nothing to be afraid of. Wilbur loved you. This was right, this was good. So why did it feel so overwhelming?

You glanced at Wilbur as he rolled on a condom. You knew he was bigger than average—he’d warned you before taking his sweet time stretching you out—but seeing him put on the condom was a stark reminder. You glanced away quickly, not wanting him to see you staring.

He scooted back over to you. “Alright, love. Are you sure about this?” He looked at you with that same concerned expression.

“I’m fine, Wil. All good.” You managed a small smile as you parted your legs. He smiled back as he settled between them.

“Hey,” he said softly, “if you ever change your mind, tell me to stop, okay? I’ll stop, and we can try this some other time. It doesn’t all have to happen tonight.” 

You nodded and relaxed slightly before giving him a quick kiss. “I trust you,” you replied. And it was true. You did trust him. You trusted him with everything, even if you were a little on edge.

“Okay.” He lined himself up. You could barely feel the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance. He slowly entered you, pushing in just the tiniest amount. “Still alright?” he asked.

“Y-yeah…” Your voice was shaky. It didn’t hurt, but it was a bit of a stretch, and it felt…odd. “You can keep going.”

Wilbur nodded and pushed in a little more. He let out a shaky sigh as he did, a sign that he was thoroughly enjoying this. He was over halfway in. After a slight nod from you, silently urging him to go all the way, he did just that.

You let out a soft moan. He filled you completely. “Wil…”

“You’re doing so good for me,” he said quietly. He kissed your forehead. “Does it feel okay? I’m not hurting you?”

You shook your head. “You’re not hurting me.” But as you said that, the anxiety swelled back up within your chest. It was so much. His skin on your skin, the sheets, his cock, the muscles in your legs straining slightly to hold them in a position you weren’t used to. Every sensation felt like a little too much, but you wanted to keep going. Or, at least try. “You can go.”

Wilbur smiled down at you, but there was a hint of anxiety on his features. “Alright. Just relax, and tell me to stop if you need to.” He started moving, slow, languid movements of his hips. You let out a few quiet noises as he did so. Meanwhile, your mind spun.

You hadn’t expected to feel so vulnerable or so nervous. This wasn’t like what you thought it would be. It was simultaneously more and less intense. As Wilbur moved, and you felt every movement both inside and out, the anxiety got more and more prominent.

After a few more thrusts, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Could you please stop?” you asked. Your voice was quiet and shaky, but Wilbur immediately got the message. 

“Oh, sweetheart, of course. Are you okay? Do you want me to pull out?” You nodded. To your utter embarrassment, tears were stinging your eyes. Wilbur immediately did as you asked, pulling out and sitting by your side so that your legs could rest. 

He took off the condom and tossed it in the trash before quickly settling beside you, a clear sign that he didn’t expect this to continue any time soon. “Hey, darling, can you look at me?” he asked. His voice was soft but worried—there was a slightly higher pitch to it that he only took on when he was nervous. You looked at him despite your tears, and he immediately pressed a few quick kisses to your cheeks and forehead. “There you are, love. You’re safe. It’s just me.”

“I’m sorry,” you croaked out. “It—I was having fun, but then…it was…it was too much, and I got freaked out, and…” The words got more and more strained as you got closer to tears, and Wilbur ended up quietly shushing you.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s alright. You’re gonna be okay. There’s nothing you need to apologize for.” He laid beside you, allowing you the option of cuddling if you wanted it, and of course you did.

You buried your face in his chest, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Deep breaths, darling. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

As you laid in his arms, you knew it was true. Wilbur would never even dream of hurting you. You could still feel the slight tension in his muscles, an unspoken worry that he’d done something wrong and scared you away. “I’m sorry,” you said again. “It’s not your fault, I just…”

“It’s okay.” He kissed your forehead as he ran his fingers through your hair. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You sucked in a small breath. “I…I guess I didn’t realize how overwhelming this would be, being with someone like this. And I know that I’m safe, that it’s just you, and that you’d never hurt me, but it’s just a lot to process. And I feel stupid, because people lose their virginity all the time, and most of them aren’t crying about it.”

“It’s not stupid,” Wilbur said softly. “Not at all.” He continued playing with your hair as he spoke. “You know…I had my first time before I found out I was demisexual.” 

You had somehow never thought of that, but it made sense. He’d only figured out his sexuality recently, earlier in your relationship. “Oh,” you said quietly. “And was it…okay?”

“Embarrassing, mostly,” he confessed. “It was awkward. I didn’t know them very well, and I wasn’t really attracted to them, so it took me forever to get hard. It was sort of terrible. Fine and consensual, but really overwhelming.” His eyes met yours as you looked up at him. “I should have gone at my own pace, you know? The last thing I’d want is for you to feel rushed when you’re uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry that happened,” you said quietly. You couldn’t imagine that, trying to lose your virginity to someone you weren’t particularly interested in. After all, you’d chosen Wilbur for a reason. “Really, you deserved a better time than that.”

“And so do you,” Wilbur said. “So keep that in mind, okay, love? We can take things at your pace. I don’t mind waiting at all.” He pulled you into a gentle hug. “I love you. Remember that.”

“I love you too.” You settled into his arms, accepting the affection gratefully. After a few moments of silence, you spoke again, still worried that he’d taken offense. “I trust you, I really do. I just…”

“I know you do,” he replied. “I’m not hurt, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He kissed your forehead. “I’m happy, honestly, that you felt comfortable enough to say something.” A pause. “I would’ve been horrified if I learned later on that you only put up with that to make me happy. Nobody deserves that.” 

That finally settled your nerves. “And you’re okay? You’re not disappointed?”

“Nah,” Wilbur said. “There are other things to do.” He ran his fingers through your hair, calm, slow movements to help settle you. “We could cuddle up, watch a movie…? Maybe?”

“Can we focus on the cuddling part first?” you asked, tone slightly teasing.

He smiled, and you could tell that he hadn’t been lying; there truly wasn’t even a hint of disappointment in his expression. It was almost hard to believe. Part of you had assumed that your first time would be uncomfortable, because wasn’t everyone’s? But Wilbur seemed to completely reject that idea. It was reassuring. “We can definitely focus on the cuddling part,” he said.

You pulled a blanket over the two of you and buried your face in his neck. He was right. There were always other things to do. And one day, you’d be ready. For now, the sheets were still warm, and Wilbur’s arms provided a reassuring shelter from the world. You could hear the soft sounds of his breathing and the slow beating of his heart. It was more than enough.

[charliemwrites]

how do you think the keepers of 141 would be w/ insomniac / dsps pets?

DSPS = fancy medical way of saying nocturnal

broight to you by the fact i havent slept at all since 6-10 pm yestersay pls end my life

like poor guy is just, unable to settle down for the life of him. tried music, meditation, weighted blankets, everything, and he still just can't fall asleep so he gets up and starts wandering around. maybe he starts watching tv or a movie, maybe he makes a snack and reads, maybe he decides that now is the perfect time to do some time consuming task or clean every single inch of the house.

keeper wakes up to the sound of the pet accidentally knocking something to the ground, sees pet is gone, and freaks out. goes to living room and its just them staring at each other while the pet eats shredded cheese over the sink (straight from the bag).

on the other hand, the daytime eepiness.

it's barely twelve and poor thing can't keep his eyes open, falling asleep mid conversation, yawning with every word, seeming really distracted. he falls asleep mid - bath which is dangerous but he was just so warm and comfy! ): he can't help taking like fourteen million 10 minute naps per day. he's wandering around still in his jam jams and looks like he literally is asleep on his feet. eepy boy (:

Spiders. Hey spiders? Spiders, darling, I’m concerned. I have mild insomnia that’s managed with meds but oh my god??? And you ask me about water??? Jail for spiders.

Anyway… a good ask.

This fits feral incredibly well. If it’s not canon that Simon is an insomniac for various reasons, it should be. So those two would be up doing chaotic shit together. Like, yes, feral is eating cheese straight from the bag, but Simon is brewing the strongest coffee in this hemisphere and they’re both chatting like it’s a weekend morning. I can see them getting lots of nap times together throughout the day. Ive said before (or at least agreed) that feral is cat-coded so this daytime napping business fits perfectly for him.

Johnny would be a menace, cooing over Shy Thing and trying to get him back into bed. Shy thing would go, wait until he’s snoring, and then creep out again to continue what he was doing. He’s less midnight cheese coded and more starting a lengthy project coded. Like, his whole bedroom needs rearranging, or the bookshelf needs to be reorganized - at 2am. But oh, Johnny would coo over his eepy boy. Dress him up in Johnny’s clothes and watch him shuffle around in too long sleeves, yawning if he sits down for too long, slumping into his shoulder in a nice patch of sunlight.

Good Boy spends all day napping on or against Price. His lap is his favorite spot, but he’ll settle for tucking up against his back too. Price tuts that he needs to stay awake, but poor baby boy just can’t. Price would also try to ~tire~ him out before bed. And while that may put him down for a three hour snooze, Good Boy will be creeping out of bed to watch old cartoons and sew/knit/crochet. Price usually wakes, scoops him up, and sets him in bed with headphones and a tablet.

[thebluestbluewords]

I sense an Auradon Mapping Project in my future…

I’m still making my way through the giant stack of Descendants tie-in books I bought a while ago, and the more I read, the more I want to dive into the actual kingdom divisions of the “USA”

(it’s critical that you all know I am making the most exhausted possible air quotes around USA - if the mashed up fairy tale kingdoms in this franchise are mostly referred to as KINGDOMS and REGIONS they would not also be STATES! It’s a weird choice for an acronym that doesn’t make that much sense in the first place!)

anyway.

This page got to me:

Let me break the start of this one down—

Sherwood Forest is six hours away from Auradon City.

Sherwood Forest is located in Westerly.

Westerly is one of the nineteen (19) regions of Auradon.

great, makes sense!

Except, does it? Because this raises SO many more questions for me, and I’m not even getting into any of the maps that are provided earlier in the book, because frankly they’re sort of a nightmare and provide NO useful sense of scale.

My initial questions:

Sherwood Forest is six hours away from Auradon City. Great! This gives us a sense of scale to measure from for the other kingdoms.

The other kingdom/region pages don’t mention how far they are from Auradon City, so this probably means six hours is pretty far.

Because they’re measuring from Auradon City, we can reasonably assume that Auradon Prep is located in Auradon City, or possibly a small town directly adjacent to the city.

In the movies it looks like Auradon Prep is on a pretty big campus, with open space for sports fields, and a forest on the edge of the property. Cities don’t…..usually have that much open green space to allocate to a school, so Auradon Prep is probably located in a smaller town close to the city. Maybe they’re making an effort to be walkable, and the Museum of Cultural History is on the edge of the city closest to Auradon Prep? Maybe they want the students to be involved in the Auradon City civic processes, so they take students into the city regularly? We don’t know for sure!

As a follow up question, is Sherwood Forest six hours from Auradon City by car? Carriage? Ship? Moped? Private jet?

Because they’re calling this the “USA”, I’m going to assume the answer is car. That feels like an appropriately US-centric method of measuring travel times.

Sherwood Forest is located in Westerly! One of the nineteen (19) regions!

WHAT ARE THE OTHER REGIONS??? ARE THEY NOT STATES?? USA???

It’s fine, I’m fine, this is all cool. Regions. Nineteen of them. With towns within them, like Sherwood Forest and Locksley, Robin Hood’s hometown. Both located within Westerly. One of the nineteen regions.

if we’re going back to Robin Hood lore, these locations all get way more complicated . I’m choosing to believe that Locksley is the smallest town/holding, located within the larger Nottingham/Nottinghamshire County, which is located in the region of Westerley, in the USA. That’s four levels of governance to deal with. Yay, local politics!

Are the nineteen regions of the USA mostly kingdoms? Do they each have a royal/noble family? We know that each of the classic Disney Princesses has a kingdom, but are there multiple kingdoms per region? Are some regions not considered kingdoms?

In conclusion:

I’m more confused than when I started.

Someday I’m going to make a master list of all the movies I want to fit into this world and just spend an entire weekend making a region/kingdom/town map for Auradon so I can keep track of the nineteen (19) regions.

I got really fixated on this nineteen regions thing while reading, and will be structuring my personal headcanons for Auradon government around this number.

[auroramoon-draws16]

The Crossover Bar AU: the Beginning

“What… what the fuck?”

Desmond didn’t know what was gonna happen after the Temple (after sacrificing himself), but waking up in a bar, a 1920’s style speakeasy, was not what he was expecting.

It looks new, it smelled new, the scent of fresh wood and fabrics, stocked up alcohol and syrups, it was nice- really nice. He didn’t know what to make of it, but his body moved anyway. Stepping behind the counter he found so many bottles, glasses, there was modern bartending tools and shakers, also new. It felt like someone placed everything here, just for him. Like this was all just for him.

“So, do you like it?”

Holy shit- oh wow it’s been a while since anyone could sneak up on him. Desmond reflexively held his hand to the speaker’s throat, hidden blade at the ready.

“Wha- I- who are you?” He sputtered, eyes wide at the girl, no really, it was a girl. At least- he thinks, his mind couldn’t comprehend any detail about her. Like everything about her was glitching beyond recognition. She was short, and that’s all Desmond could tell about her.

“Don’t worry about that,” she grinned(?), nudging his hand away from her throat, and weirdly enough, he let her. “Answer my question, do you like it?” She repeated, not rudely per say, just… eager. Like a little kid showing her mom her drawing.

Blinking, Desmond lowered his hand, and took another look around.

There were wooden tables and chairs everywhere, nicely made from what he could tell, set up in a circle around a stage across from the entrance. The curtains a bright, vivid blood red, and there were lights up on the ceiling to brighten it up. From his place at the bar he could see a balcony, a second floor, but besides the railing and the edge of a pool table, he couldn’t see much else. On the walls were empty picture frames, waiting for something to occupy them- well, most of them- the one by the entrance had a portrait of Desmond with a golden frame.

It felt…

“It’s… home,” he blurted, “it feels like home.”

The girl(?) made a happy noise, bouncing up and down excitedly, “I knew it! I knew you’d like it!” She squealed, a warped and echoing sound, “oh I can’t wait! There’s gonna be so many more, they’re gonna like it too! You’ll see!” Before Desmond could respond, he felt arms wrap around his middle, “I’m gonna go get them, stay right here! Oh they’re gonna love you! You won’t be lonely, I promise!” And then she was gone. Just- he blinked and she was gone.

“Don’t mind her, the Apprentice is just excited,” someone explained, sounding both amused and fond. “This is her first project.”

Desmond looked to the other end of the bar, finding a man(?) sitting with an empty glass. He couldn’t see his features either, but that’s because he was engulfed in a bright light from head to toe. He felt familiar- distant- like looking into a funhouse mirror, him just not really… he even sounded sort of like-

“Hey, don’t do that,” he interrupted Desmond’s thoughts, holding up his empty glass, “you’ll get a headache. Now then, you’re a bartender, aren’t you? Mind pouring me something?”

Shaking out of his stupor, Desmond reached for the shelf, “right, uh, what’d you want…?” He asked, head still buzzing.

“You can call me the Reader,” the Reader told him, a smile in his faint voice, “that Whiskey will do.” He pointed at the bottle Desmond’s hand was hovering over.

After pouring him a glass, Desmond twitched, “uh, what do you mean- about her- the Apprentice- this project- what-?”

The Reader chuckled, “You’re not the first, you won’t be the last,” he muttered, more to himself than to Desmond, “she’s a good friend, she wanted to try something new, something different than what I usually do- or what They usually do- so I’m letting her try it out. This place is gonna be a catch all, a hub for any Soul needing somewhere to go, a place where they can Crossover the threshold without- well, y’know. Of course since you’ll be the Host, you have the final say over everything, this domain is all yours.”

“What? Who- I don’t understand, what the fuck does all of that mean?” Desmond spluttered. The Reader just laughed again. Asshole.

“You’ll get it soon enough,” he took a swig of whiskey and pointed to the door, “look, your first Guest is here.”

“Seriously? I’m not gonna fall for that,” and he was gone in a blink too, nothing but an empty glass to even hint someone else was here, “goddammit.”

Desmond didn’t know what to make of all this, who the Reader or the Apprentice were, what they were doing, what they even are in the first place, but he knew people were coming, Guests, the Reader said, and that he’s the Host. So that’s what he’s gotta do then, if the bar was made for him, and that’s what he’s here for, he might as well… right? What else was he supposed to do? He’s supposed to be dead, but he’s here as the Host.

Taking the glass and grabbing a cleaning rag from under the counter, he cleans it. Looking up at the doors, before hearing them swing open and watching someone stumble onto the floor with shouts of shock and thuds of limbs scrambling to catch onto the smooth floor.

“Hey, welcome to the- wait- Clay!”

“Seventeen!?”

[melrosing]

MATE I have a feeling I am so late to this but what happened to your job!

lmao! so much! but I don’t have it anymore! ok you didn’t ask for the full story lmao but im always in the mood for venting lately so the full tale under the cut on What Happened With My Job

so without getting into detail they have been absolute asses all year!! like with each other the women in my team are like Bosom Pals but apart from a handful of pleasant people they just have no time for me lol it’s very cliquey??

anyway. we had some really difficult clients in the Spring who were ready to throw in the towel at every stage of our work process bc it was unfamiliar territory for them. I was leading the project but really struggling to meet their insane expectations like it was HUNDREDS of emails a day from like 8AM to 8PM and their ‘head of’ sometimes swearing at me on calls with a dozen other people and thinking I can work magic and get [MAJOR CELEBRITY] involved in a thing for them when objectively I can’t and just scream. anyway my directors get really uneasy because this is a big client and they don’t want them getting scared off so when the client starts reaching a crescendo of frustration they fully just scapegoat me right at the end of the campaign (at which point our results are great! lmao) and say it will be Dealt With

around the same time I start to realise that the business is failing and my ‘specialist position’ is typically the first kind to go and that COINCIDENTALLY they are on my ass day after day trying to insist im not meeting their ‘standards’ and genuinely making up the most insane reasons why not (like I know I’d be biased saying this but SERIOUSLY) so im like ohhh right. I see where this is going

THEN my dad gets goddamn incurable brain cancer and my whole life falls apart. and they suddenly have to be like ‘oh no. I am sorry this has happened. oh dear.’ I’m off two weeks having a complete mental breakdown until im kindly reminded that cough I’ve almost used up my statutory days of compassionate leave! but per company guidelines they do have to manage my workload whilst i er. struggle indefinitely w the emotional burden?? so my capacity is thus reduced and man you can tell they’re not thrilled about it

so they basically check in every Friday for a month saying ‘hope everything is ok can you take on more work yet’ CONSPICUOUSLY never asking how anything is going with dad (like when I first logged back in I had a catch up with my line manager and kind of tremulously started talking about what had happened and she literally said ‘it’s ok you don’t need to tell me the details’)

THEN I get GASTROENTERITIS 💃🏻 god knows how. but it’s a bad one and I physically can’t eat for a week man I eat like a banana a day and even that makes me sick lol. but whatever the first day I phone in and tell my director im not well. she’s like ‘WELL I ACTUALLY HAVE SO MUCH TO MANAGE RIGHT NOW SO THIS REALLY ISN’T HELPFUL LIKE I GET YOU CAN’T HELP BEING SICK BUT I REALLY NEED TO BE ABLE TO RELY ON MY TEAM TO SUPPORT COS WE HAVE A LOT COMING UP’ (I’m not even kidding)

so on the third day I log back in bc I feel like I need to just push through it but oh no im still vomiting my guts out so I message the same director ‘look I think maybe. I am still sick’ and she says NOTHING in response till I suddenly get a text from my LINE MANAGER saying ‘Hi. X says you say you still don’t feel well. We understand it’s food poisoning. That usually only lasts 24 hours’. LIKE??? apparently with all the compassionate leave I’d had to take, the sick leave was just too much for them to bear lmao so i got myself a goddamn doctor’s note and have to announce every day for the rest of that week ‘I’m still not well sorry’ (they never ever reply)

Then finally I recover and I log back in and my director doesn’t ask me how I am or anything literally just says ‘WELL let’s get straight to business’ and explains the status of everything at me for 20 mins going on about how stressful it all is.

And then an hour later I get a surprise call from my head of department telling me unforch they’re making me redundant. can’t be helped. understand this is a bad time for you personally. (said head of department has never addressed what bad thing is happening personally rn). and im in shock. till i figure that what with my dad this is probably an appalling time to make up some performance based reason to fire me so this was their only option

and then finally I see the paperwork and realise severance pay is a third of my annual salary. so i promptly get over it, log out halfway through the month whilst still being paid for my time till the end of it, and NOT ONE of those fuckers has even reached out to say goodbye in all that time but god knows I never want to hear from them again so?? fuck it! i told HR everything anyway I was like look I don’t want to take formal action but?? I think you should know.

and now im just gonna chill for Christmas w my dad and my fam and my pals and my cats and do my weird asoiaf shit on tumblr I guess lol. so there we go that’s what happened!!!!

tl;dr got made redundant lol

[decepti-thots]

(I’ll preface by saying: huge JP fan who has no problem with people not liking it)

Anyways I’m actually super curious…

How are most JP fics “boring”? 🤔 I’ve always found their dynamic to be more entertaining than most, given the dichotomy of their characters.

So I’m curious as to how you’ve wound up at “boring” of all the possible reasons to dislike it. 🤣

I'm going to be a bit blunter here than I usually would be on the topic, as I was directly asked. So I'll cut the uh… negativity? I guess? For those who prefer not to see folks talk shit about a ship they like, lol.

First and foremost Jazz/Prowl is basically just… essentially made up and purely based on fanon inventions/additions, and made up fanon stuff is usually not of real interest to me without a very strong hook somewhere in the actual canon material. It is 99% fanon by volume that draws on little to no canon material of any kind but just... years of fanon, reproducing itself and mutating almost like a fanfic game of telephone, all developed in fandom echo chambers. Which renders the characters in the vast majority of fic a) largely unrelated to any canon material I like in a meaningful sense and b) tbqh, the kind of generic stuff found in a lot of typical, large dudeslash fandoms where the characters are… they're Dudeslash Fandom Archetypes with a gloss of paint on top, you know? People come in, look for which character in a fandom fits their favourite m/m trope the most, and then squish the character down to fit into that pre-existing archetype.

And the thing is, J/P has historically made a certain kind of sense for this, because the appeal was basically that… they didn't HAVE that much canon material? In the Marvel G1 comics, they have a little more specific characterisation and canon, but the G1 cartoon is not exactly a character exploration piece ANYWAY, and for Prowl especially he is a blank slate you can functionally project an OC onto. Which like, that's fine! That makes a lot of sense even if it's not what usually draws me into something.

My issue has become that if I read one more G1-fanon-soup fest mistagged "IDW" I'm gonna scream. I like IDW Prowl (and IDW Jazz too!) for the fact that these characters have specific, strongly delineated canon personalities, arcs and dynamics, and both of these characters- Prowl especially, but both of them!- have like. Things about them which are true, and which J/P fic not only tends to ignore but actively treats in a loooot of cases as somehow Inferior To Our Fanon and something to be "fixed" with idk, the power of Extremely Generic Dudeslash Tropes. I've been in many a fandom with Migratory Dudeslash Fandoms writing fic. J/P is extremely rote to me as a result, if nothing else.

It warrants mentioning that J/P fandom is where one does find a lot of examples of just undeniably racist treatment of Jazz in fic, both the truly inexcusable phonetic accent bullshit and also a lot of bad decisions around tropes. I don't think this is a function of the ship, per se, but that its specific persistence in J/P fandom (bc trust me: this has been a point of criticism for A Long Fucking Time) is in part due to it having this long entrenched fanon-to-fanon game of telephone going on? It would be better to talk about the fandom's issues there outside ship talk so I'll leave it at that, but I can't deny it has not… helped my feelings. TBH. And I know that's where a lot of the resentment you will find in the fandom obviously stems from.

IDK. It's just. It's usually fanfic of itself, you know? J/P largely feels to me, in most cases, like fanfic of fanfic of fanfic, and I come to TF fandom for fanfic of a canon. So. Yeah. Not a fan. At all.

[drawloverlala]

July status update and new commission opening date!

Hello! hope you had a great June! As per usual here’s a monthly update about my commission status and stuff! 

🌸I’ll be opening Illustration and comic page commissions next Saturday 15th of July!

As usual I’ll be updating my commission info pages for each thing in Caard with my email being available! 

Illustration commissions info page / Comic page commissions info page

🌸 As a reminder, pricing was updated last month so read the info and what the new prices are about carefully!

here are the prices + extras in detail anyways! 👇

The * in this, is that I need to explain XD,  I’m currently working on projects  where I take these kind of commissions, so they are not technically closed, but I’m not currently accepting them outside of these projects, so they aren’t really open either.

And yeah, this time I’m opening comic commissions! which is exiting but at the same time I’m a bit nervous lol although I get nervous every time I open commissions anyways, I just hope everything goes swiftly that day XD

🌸 Brotherhood Twist comic progress:

Well not much from last time, except that 4 finished pages have now their dialogue and there are now 4 pages left to ink! 

I’m trying my best to finish inking them soon, so that I can start adding colors to all of these! ^_^

🌸 Miscellaneous commentary:

I’ve been trying out new themes recently, for a little while I installed one called Glazed; a theme by Pale, is really pretty if you want to check it out,

but at the moment that theme can’t zoom-in single photo-posts and posts that have 1 picture on them looked pretty small. so I came back to the old one because even if it’s an oldie, it allows pictures to look big, and also zooms-in a lot. (although with the new post editor that feature seems to be gone lol, now zooms in like in a regular way).

still this small odyssey finding the theme that suits what I want, has made me realize that I should try to learn some HTML for once, not only because I actually enjoy shaping my blog in a pretty way, but because when I try to do so, there’s a lot I don’t understand about it 😅, so I want to try learning some of that coding language. 

Also I would like to start playing around with my Neocities site lol  maybe I can turn it into a proper main art gallery? dunno yet.

well but that’s all for now, other thoughts I’ll just ramble about when I feel like so lol

But well, see you! and I hope you have a great new week!

[dmwrites]

Gem always loved the moon. If she happened to stay up late, working on some kind of project, she tried to take the time to just look at the moon. This is what a moon was supposed to look and feel like- no gravity issues, not getting bigger, just quietly vibing in the sky.

One night she was helping lug some shulker boxes around with Pearl. As per usual, she stopped briefly to smile up at the dark sky and the bright moon.

“Oh, isn’t it so pretty Pearl?”

“Gem why did you stop?” Pearl came back around a corner, glancing up. “What is?”

“Why, the moon, of course!” Gem replied, jokingly scandalized. “I mean, shouldn’t you love the moon, since you’re named after it?”

“Not really.” Pearl pointed to where the boxes needed to go. “I mean, it’s just a moon. I’m the better moon anyway. The pearlescent type.”

“Gee, I didn’t think you’d have beef with the moon.” Gem said curiously. “I kinda thought you were like related to the moon or something. Oh wait, I know, it’s because you’re an alien!” She giggled.

“Gem, I’m not an alien!” Pearl was not laughing, and in fact Gem could see her flip from her sword to her axe and back again in agitation. “Stop saying that! I’m not kidding.”

“Pearl…” Gem reached for her, but Pearl stormed off before she could say anything else.

Upset, Gem flew over to Impulse’s place. She literally flew into him as he was coming outside onto the bridge.

“Impulse, Pearl just yelled at me.” Gem couldn’t decide if she felt upset or confused. Probably both.

“Oh Gem, I’m sorry.” Impulse looked sad and gave her a hug. “Pearl’s been acting super weird recently. She yelled at me too the other day for talking about the moon from last season.”

“She stormed off because I joked that she was an alien!” Gem sat down on the edge of the bridge. “I mean, if it upsets her, I should stop joking about it, and I will. But she’s also not acting like herself. It’s… does Pearl not seem like the Pearl you remember from Boatem?”

Impulse sat down beside her. “No, yeah, literally, this isn’t my Pearly. I spent all of Boatem and falling through the Boatem hole with her. She loved the moon! She was the only one chill with it, kept insisting it was her cousin coming to visit!”

“She definitely was considering threatening me with something sharp, and not in a fun way.” Gem said, frowning. “It just doesn’t make any sense. I’ve known her even longer then you have, and she’s never been like this.”

“Impulse! Gem! Hello, hello, hello!” A cheery voice interrupted their depressing conversation, and they turned around to see Zedaph clip-clopping up the stairs towards them. He smiled at them, and despite it all, seeing the goofy redstoner made them smile too. “Impulse! Just the dwarf I was looking for, because I came specifically to your house! And Gem, I’m sure your brain would be useful in this as well!”

“What’s up, Zed?” Impulse got to his feet and slapped Zedaph on the back amicably.

“Well, it’s about the moon.” Gem and Impulse froze. Zedaph, obliviously looking at his notes, continued after a long silence. “Sorry, I was reading my notes. Yeah, the moon is acting weird.”

“What do you mean by weird, Zed?” Gem asked cautiously. She could feel a low panic simmering through her body.

Zed looked up and laughed. “Oh my, you two look like you’ve seen a ghost! No, no, not like whatever happened last season- I wasn’t paying attention, I don’t remember that- this is different. The moon patterns are behaving super weirdly.”

“Okay, let me take a look.” Impulse said after several calming breaths. He took the papers in Zed’s hand.

“I’ve been marking the position of the moon since the season started- been thinking of some kind of Zedvancement to do with that big sky orb square thingie. But it’s been all over the sky, slowly. Can’t make heads or tails of it.” Zed remarked over Impulse’s shoulder.

“Huh…” Impulse was tracing the moon’s path over time with his finger. “Gem, do you notice anything familiar about these patterns?”

Gem watched Impulse’s finger trace, and then gasped. “It’s letters! H-E-L-P. Help! It’s help.” A chill went through her suddenly, and she looked across the bridge to see Pearl watching the gathered group from on top of her mountain.

“Help?” Impulse murmured, brain clearly whirring. Zed looking at it too, thoughtfully chewing on Impulse’s sleeve.

“Hey Impulse?” Gem asked cautiously.

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember how we were just talking about how strangely Pearl was acting?”

“Yeah…” Impulse looked up from the document, now studying Gem. “Why?”

“What if… hey Impulse, what if that’s not our Pearl?” Gem had her eye on Pearl on the hill.

“Help…” Impulse murmured. “Gem, if you think that’s not Pearl, then could she be…” He looked up at the sky, at the moon that was just starting to rise.

“Oh my god Pearl’s trapped in the moon!” Gem gasped.

“Pearl is the moon. She said help, oh my god that makes so much sense!” Impulse clutched the papers to his chest.

“Guys?” Zed spit out Impulse’s sleeve. “You do realize how ridiculous you both sound, right? Like, I’m me, Zedaph, and I’m saying this is too much. There is no way a person can be the literal moon!”

“Maybe not…” Impulse muttered. Gem shivered, watching Impulse trace the same word over and over again.

HELP

[xnchxntmxnt]

breathe.

description kyoya character analysis & some slight tamakyo. could be platonic or romantic take it as you will

genre: angst & hurt/comfort. kinda happy ending?

notes: why do I always project on this guy. anyway my therapist let me talk about him so now I’m having feelings. I did my research i promise i didnt just make stuff up for his subjects

edit: my therapist read it and said she loved it and then i had a fun time talking about what this meant lol

“Kyoya?” 

He jolted awake upon hearing someone calling his name, sitting up rather quickly from his place on the host club’s couch. How did he get there? He was sure, just a few minutes ago, he was sitting at the table, working—

He fumbled around for his glasses, now more concerned he didn’t have them on his face, when an outstretched hand held them for him. Looking up, he realized that blurry hand was an even blurrier Haruhi. Their eyebrows furrowed upon seeing his panic and they looked almost…concerned for him. 

Kyoya took a deep breath, allowing his thoughts to re-collect, and placed his glasses back on his face. Everything was much clearer, suddenly, and he looked around. The twins stood off in the corner, Haruhi sat on the edge of the couch he laid on, Mori and Honey, on the couch opposite him—why was everyone staring at him so intently?—and Tamaki…

Where was Tamaki?

“Take a deep breath, Kyoya,” Haruhi said, gently as they could. “You fell asleep working and Kaoru found you before the club was supposed to open, so Mori put you on the couch hoping you’d be more comfortable.”

“Supposed to o—Haruhi, what time is it?”

“About 4:30? We decided to just cancel today—”

“You let me sleep that—“ he started, rather irritated, but caught himself. It wasn’t their fault. It was his fault for falling asleep in the first place. There was so much to do in so little time and he had to make sure all of it was perfect. “My apologies, my anger is not directed towards you, Haruhi.”

“I…” They shook their head, contemplating their next words. “Kyoya, you don’t look-“

“Kyoya Ootori!”

He was in for it if Tamaki, in all his elaborate dramatics, was using his full name. 

The doors to the music room opened with a creak and in stormed a mess of blond hair and rather irritated violet eyes. Haruhi joined the twins, wanting to stay out of the way of the King’s fury. Mori gently placed his hands over Honey’s ears, trying to limit the noise while he slept as well. 

“What—” he started, swinging by the table and grabbing his open notebook, only to wave it in his face— “is this?”

His tone reminded him of one not unlike his father’s when he was in trouble for something, yet Tamaki was just louder. Kyoya hung his head. Whatever it was, it was well deserved, he was sure.

“I don’t have the patience for this today, Tamaki,” he muttered, rather bitterly. “I have things to do.”

He tried to reach for the notebook, but Tamaki held it higher than his arms could reach. This game? Really?

“You will not be working anymore today,” he said, rather matter-of-factly, like there was no argument to be had. 

He rolled his eyes. “I have things to do, Tamaki.”

“And they can wait until tomorrow!”

“No they can’t–!” He lunged for the book again and, to his dismay, he tossed the book across the room to Hikaru. The twins each got a devilish look, per their usual demeanor, and ran off with it. Haruhi followed suit, albeit much slower, while shooting him a sympathetic look. . Mori took that as his cue to leave as well, doing his best to carry Honey out of the room without waking him. 

They each stared the other down until the doors finally closed. The latch of the doorknob broke the tension long enough for Kyoya to look away and stand up, going back to the table he’d been working at during the end of school. 

“Kyoya, I mean it,” Tamaki said, much gentler, following him through the room. “You look horrible—”

“Thank you ever so much for the vote of confidence, dear.”

“Listen, will you!” 

Kyoya looked up from his things—calculator, phone, his other notebook for notes about the host club, his other other notebook for his German homework, physics textbook, legal pad full of his to-do lists—and glared at him. 

Tamaki rushed to sit in the chair next to him, hand ever-so-gently placed on his arm. “You’re doing too much,” he sighed, taking his hand instead of his arm. “I’m worried about you.”

He stared. He stared for a long moment, unsure how to react. It wasn’t too much—he was fine, really. If it was too much, he knew when he needed to take a break. Soon, they’d be on winter vacation and he’d stop studying in the weekday evenings until school started again. He just needed to keep up with the host club’s work, as well as his duties for his family’s company, and stay as far ahead in his schoolwork as he could. His grades had to keep him top of the class and the pressure from his father didn’t make that any easier, but he knew how to make it work. 

He took mental note of everything he had to do in the following three days down to the hour he was supposed to do it, and everything else was kept in a scheduling book he never went anywhere without. When time moved on as he planned it, things went as they should. Everyone relied on him for his ability to schedule and keep a cool head, so he would continue to complete his responsibilities as a son, student, and shadow president. 

“Kyoya?” Tamaki asked, pulling him from his train of thought. “Please. You’re falling asleep at the table because I know you’re not sleeping enough at night.”

 “And how would you know that?” 

He took a deep breath before proceeding. “I can see it in your face, Kyoya. There are bags under your eyes, you’re paler than usual—when’s the last time you ate?”

Thinking back for a moment, he tried to think of the last real meal he’d had—one of the guests brought him cookies and he ate half of one before giving the rest to Honey. The night before, Fuyumi brought him a snack when he was studying, but he only picked at it before throwing it out before he went to bed. Dinner wasn’t his favorite, either, so he didn’t have much then. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he decided, pulling his hand away from Tamaki to continue whatever he was working on before. What was he working on? There was his German assignment that was due at the end of next week that he needed to start, an English paper due after that, then the history homework that he didn’t want to do but knew it needed to be done anyway. That was the most boring, maybe he’d work through that first. Or would it be better to organize things by the due date instead of the subject?

Tamaki sighed and fell forward, sprawling his arms out over the table. He could sense the frustration he was desperately trying to bite back, but he was earnest about the fact that he was fine. “You’re impossible,” he complained, turning his head to look at him. “If you can’t beat them, might as well join them, no? When is this due?”

He gestured to the half-done homework in front of them. Kyoya sighed. “Thursday.”

“Oh! Well, that’s not bad. Two days from now—” 

“Next Thursday.”

“Kyoya. Why do you do this to yourself—all worked up over nothing—”

“It’s not nothing,” he muttered. 

“What was that?”

Frustrated with his nagging and inability to leave him alone, Kyoya decided not to hold back all his thoughts from the past several days (maybe longer). “It’s not nothing you absolute moron—you have no idea the kind of pressure I’m under!” he pushed himself away from the table and began pacing around the room, talking with his hands so much so he was sure he’d be in trouble at home if he did that. It wasn’t proper, no, of course not. 

“I’m constantly babysitting you, as well as making sure the rest of the club isn’t in trouble all the time,” he started—later, he’d hope he knew he didn’t mean that as harshly as he said it. “I have to be perfect to even be recognized for anything I do, and I have to work three times as hard as either of my brothers for my father to even notice me! There are some days I swear Fuyumi is the only one who cares about me, and she’s only around once in a while since she moved out! I was disappointed when I got an A minus on my math test the other day because I was frustrated it wasn’t any higher! I almost lost it during class when I got a B  back on an essay I tried my damnedest on! The only things that matter to anyone’s respect I crave are what I can do and how impressive can I be? And I’m—I’m tired of it, but there’s nothing I can do! Even if I tried to rebel I couldn’t let myself!”

He spun around at the last moment, gesturing to Tamaki to say something. He wasn’t sure what he wanted him to say, but since they were in middle school, he’d always known exactly what to tell him. It was Tamaki who brought him back to his senses when he needed it and always Tamaki who made him calm down when he was like this. 

Rather than saying anything, he slowly stood up and walked over to him. Before Kyoya realized what was going on, he felt Tamaki’s arms around his shoulders in a tight embrace. Even slower, his arms fell and rested around him as well. Despite how tightly he squeezed him, it felt like a breath of fresh air after being underwater for too long. 

It didn’t fix anything right away, but he didn’t expect it to. Just that opportunity to breathe was enough. 

Because Tamaki felt like home.

taglist

@emswordss @kodzukoi @banica-conchita-simp @falling4fandoms @mysterystarz @sirimirihiro @otakuthingz

[airenyah]

I’m very much in the gmmtv should split all their ships camp but joongdunk are an exception as well for me. They have such a fun dynamic with each other even in the bts and interviews that it would sadden me to see them separated. I’d also worry for their productivity, even Tee said for Hidden Agenda whenever they were apart they’d start sulking 😂

right!!!!! i actually rewatched the hidden agenda special ep where tee talked about that only a few days ago. them being sulky when they can't work together is just so cute and wholesome!! and you know what?? relatable djfkgjkfdgd (my best friend and went to this summer camp for like a decade, first as participants and then as leaders. and back as participants we spent 4 out of 5 years sitting at the same table at every single meal and usually right next to each other, even. then when we became leaders we had to split up, bc every table was required to have at least one leader. idk about her, but i was definitely sulky that we couldn't sit at the same table for the 4 years we were leaders. and towards the end of the camp, the more tired we got the more we ended up sitting at the same table anyway lmao. and again, idk about her but even the other activities and tasks that we had to do were always more fun when i was allowed to work with her. so. i absolutely 1000000000% get the boys)

that being said, me personally? i wouldn't necessarily be sad for them if they don't get to work together. they're grown-ass men and they are perfectly capable to function without the other. and they can always hang out and talk outside of work (if dunk picks up his phone when joong calls or joong manages to get dunk out of the house, that is kjdfkjdfgk)

will i be absolutely stoked if they get another series together? hell yeah!!!!!! (dark sexy vampire fantasy bl for joongdunk when???????)

but not gonna lie, purely from an acting standpoint i'd actually love to see them work separately at some point. especially dunk. he works extremely well with joong and i'm super curious if he manages some of the things i've come to adore about his acting when it's with someone else (whether it's another male co-star or someone of another gender)

not just that, another reason why i want to see them act with other people is because different acting partners can bring out different things with you because you'll have a different dynamic, a different way or working and interacting with all of them. and that can also help you grow as an actor, because you can take away something different from every partner you work with. and that is something that i would want for them, also

(plus, i wouldn't want them to get bored of doing series together. absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that, you know? i think it'll be more exciting for them if they do go off to work on separate projects and reunite every once in a while. i wouldn't want their joint projects to become like... a habit, i guess. i'm not sure how to phrase what i'm trying to say)

so either way, whether they'll get a series together or work on separate projects, i'll be satisfied. as long as i get to see both of them on my screen next year in some way (preferably as a lead)

the absolute best case scenario would actually be two projects per boy: they do one bl project together (hi dark sexy vampire fantasy bl) and one separately. unfortunately i'm never going to get this, though

[roosterbox]

Heyyyyyy just a casual reminder that I’m doing my Album Project again on Twitter. That is, I’m listening to multiple albums (2 - 5) a day, ones I’ve never listened to in their entirety. Afterward, I offer my brief thoughts on them, and usually pick at least three favorite tracks. I’ve done this three times previously - in Phases, as I call them. There are 100 albums per phase, and it usually takes me about a month to get through all of them. Not quite continuously though; I take at least one day a week for a break, and I use about two months to decompress between each 100 album phase.

Artists and genres vary wildly. With very, very few exceptions, I have promised to listen to anything, and I meant it. Just today I listened to stuff from guys like Dire Straits, The Smiths, George Michael, Norah Jones, and Buzzcocks. The only real barrier is whether or not I’ve heard it before. It’s why you’ll never see me reviewing a Pearl Jam or Beatles record - already heard all of them. Multiple times, lol. As long as I can come up with 100 albums every few months, I’m gonna keep doing this.

So anyway, if your ever curious about my thoughts on various albums (more examples of artists covered so far: Rush, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Neil Young, Tom Waits, etc.), or this description has intrigued you, feel free to check me out on Twitter.

(also feel free to offer any album requests if you want! Can’t guarantee that I haven’t heard it before, but I’m always open to suggestions!)