#but i might have been holding myself to too high of a standard

[scribbling-dragon]

writing shorter oneshots has actually been so much fun recently. like, seriously, i love doing them. it’s great! im having fun, and being able to sit down and write something short n sweet has been super nice

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

All Kinds of Trouble

Alfie Solomons x Reader, Fluff, 1.2k words

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Hi guys!! Ok so maybe hiatus is over? I'm trying to be gentle with myself and not hold myself to high standards in posting schedules. Again, therapy and Bar prep are a lot to handle rn, but I was able to do this little piece! This is based of a request sent in by my sweet friend @jassiefayee !!!! I hope you enjoy this angel!! Anyway, love you all so much! Have an amazing day!

Alfie didn’t find peace in many things. The business and all. Made him toss and turn at night, and in the daylight caused him to explode from the pure idiocy of people around him.

But walks in the park with Cyril? Now that gave him peace. With Cyril by his side, anyone who may have wanted to cause trouble stayed far away. Cyril’s imposing stature and mean looking face kept many men looking to scrap at bay, but little did they know that Cyril was by far the sweetest dog in Camden. And the fresh air did Alfie good. Being out in the park, feeling the breeze, hearing children and birds milling about created a sort of temple for him. A quiet place for him to let his mind rest, talk to himself (or God if he had a particular question), or just hum to the beat of Cyril's paws on the ground. This was his rest. This was his peace.

Now it should be noted, that one of the reasons that Alfie loved this particular park was that it was free of distractions for both him and Cyril. While Cyril was a very sweet and good natured dog who hardly ever caused an unnecessary ruckus, he was still a dog. And dogs have this strange habit, if not fantastic ability, to completely change the course of their owner's life.

So it was during a brisk walk on a fine November day where Alfie was suddenly pulled with all the force of heaven’s angels by Cyril’s lead through the park. And just as quick as he was yanked he was halted, nearly tripping over his boots and coat, and falling into Cyril and what might possibly be one of those treacherous angels.

It had become a relatively new habit for you to take a few moments of your day to sit in the park. Whether strolling, reading, or simply listening to the music of the city, you found the meditative state you entered in the park particularly divine. Spending all day cooped up in the house was not doing anyone any favors, and your mother insisted that you look at the sky, breathe in fresh air, or do something to get your energy out. And you enjoyed the respite from your family’s eyes and ears, and the view you caught of other people’s comings and goings. Often making up stories for the familiar faces that passed your eyes.

You had seen Mr. Solomons and his a dog before. It was hard to miss them. Both imposing. Even if Mr. Solomons wasn’t physically too tall, the air in which he carried himself made him seem absolutely monstrous. And the dog he walked along with came with a silent stature to match. When you mentioned to your mother that Mr. Solomons frequented your park, she all but forbid you to go to the park again. He was dangerous. A brute. Nothing good was associated with him. He was an animal. Damned.

Everyone in Camden had a story about Mr. Solomons. Even if they personally had never met him, they knew someone who knew someone who had crossed his path and suffered greatly. Fewer than those who crossed his path, were the women who had the pleasure of spending an evening with him. Demanding. Particular. Incredibly cross with hardly a smile crossing his firm mouth and creased brow. You had heard them all, many a time. And each time you heard the stories more fantastical and gory and outrageous they became. From the way the neighbors spoke of him, he might has well been an ogre who ate good men for supper. A confidant of the devil himself.

Yet those stories never deterred you from letting your eyes wander over to him when he made his way to the park. Surely observing doesn’t damn one’s soul right? And wondering if stories are true surely cannot condemn. Besides, he was never close enough to truly make a difference. A glance and gaze and thought were all that you experienced with the fearsome King of Camden. Until this afternoon, when that monstrous dog came charging at you with a gleeful and slobbery smile. And for whatever reason you never moved from your seat. You stayed planted on your spot on the bench, waiting for whatever was to come. And your supposed attack was merely a disgusting kiss to the neck and chin from the dog, and happy pants from it as well. It’s master, cursing and bellowing at hundred pound puppy who was uninterested in the threats of its flustered master.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the reddened face of Mr. Solomons, clearly out of breathe from the exertion of the sudden chase. “Mr. Solomons are you quite alright? Do you need to sit?”

“Hmm? No, no don’t worry about me angel, m’fine. This damn dog knows better than to run full force in a park. You alright love? Hope Cyril didn’t scare ya.”

You smiled warmly at him, and he was convinced he must have died in the chase and gone to Heaven. Your sweet eyes and tempting lips all too pretty to be here in Camden. You scratched Cyril’s ears before answering, "Oh no Mr. Solomons, I'm fine. Cyril here is very very sweet."

"Now treacle, I think I'm at a disadvantage. Don't like that at all me. Now how is it yeah, that you know my name and now my dog's name... but I don't get to know your name sweetness?"

With a quirked brow you answer, "Oh Mr. Solomons, everyone knows your name. The ferocious King of Camden, and his demon dog. Lots of tales about you Mr. Solomons.”

Alfie allowed himself a smile at your cheek, “Lots of stories eh? Which one is your favorite?”

“The one where you bested the devil himself in a game of chess and won the keys to hell.”

Alfie made himself comfortable next to you on the bench, making sure that his thigh touched yours, “Is that so? Your mum tell you that little one?”

You shook your head, “No sir. She told me I wasn’t to go near you.”

“And yet here you are, talking to bad men. Tsk tsk tsk. Naughty ain’t you?”

“It’s fun to be naughty sometimes. Don’t you agree Mr. Solomons?”

Alfie couldn’t help but bring his shiny rings to your cheek, taking stock of your face. You never flinched away, keeping fiery eyes locked on his. He hummed a tune you didn’t know, and stated, “There’s an opera tonight at 8. You’ll come with me. Wear something nice.”

“I don’t go to operas with strange men.”

“I don’t go to operas with strange women. Yet here we are sweet. I thought you liked being naughty.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his brazenness. In truth, you couldn’t believe you allowed yourself to get this far. But it was too delicious to let go now. “You’ll pick me up on the corner of 10th and Victoria? At 6pm.”

“Now what will I do with you for two hours before the play treacle?”

You shrugged, “Show me how the King of Camden has a good night.”

Alfie laughed heartily, “Fuck me you really are a bad little thing aren’t you. Alright sweetness, I’ll pick you up there at 6. And let’s see what we can get up to.”

[the-californicationist]

Guile & Guilt (Ch. 04)

Link to AO3

MDNI/18+

THE SAME DAY

Pidge offered to let you shower and change in her room so that you could be warm again and in clean clothes. You took her up on it, eager to feel the hot water and steam heat your skin.

Roger was already snoring, dead asleep on the sofa in the living room, and Johnny - or Soap, as Bekah had named him - disappeared into his room for a bit, looking for his own shower. He was absent while you and Pidge tried the cake samples from the Stiff Peaks bakery. She gushed about the flavors and the use of spices in the cake and its icing. You even got a few moans of culinary approval from Hamish whose high standards were impossible to reach. All in all, it felt like a success.

So why did you feel so empty? It was more than just the text from Bekah. There was some piece missing, something you got wrong and needed to fix. But, what could it be?

Johnny had confessed his feelings to you, and his kiss had felt… well, it had felt like a kiss should feel. It was the kiss that every young person imagined they might experience one day when the softness of someone else’s mouth finally found their own, their tongue icing the flesh of the other’s like a knife through a creamy, sugary glaze. The heat of their wet lips burning their edges, locked into a primal embrace of ownership and consumption, eating without feeling full. Devouring and yet becoming hungrier, increasing your appetite, gorging on the sweetness, until finally…

Johnny’s door popped open and he came to join you in the kitchen. His eyes went to you before eventually settling on Brigette,

“So? What’s the verdict, then? Dinnae meet the mark?”

“Sure,” Pidge smiled at him, “Right on target, you wee nugget. Good thing I sent you then.”

Johnny nodded to you, sitting in the bar stool next to yours at the kitchen counter. He gestured to you,

“She kept me in line, so she did. Would’ve gone for the chocolate myself.”

Pidge nudged you,

“Aye, what’d I tell you.”

You offered the other half of the cake to him, passing him your fork. He took it, cocking his smile into a mischievous grin,

“You’d have been proud of your wee hen here, Pidge. She made a pretty convincing bride. Might have to recruit her for our next mission. Be needin’ some espionage.”

Pidge laughed without even glancing up at him, her voice full of bitterness,

“So, havin’ you and da’ throw away your life on spyin’ wasnae enough. Should be my best friend, too?”

The whole room went cold. Johnny was mid-chew when he heard his sister’s comment, and he spat out the cake into a napkin in disgust. Pidge cut him off before he could say anything,

“Don’t forget to give little miss James Bond here a ride to her fitting tomorrow. I’m off for my shower,” she squeezed her brother’s forearm, seeming to understand that she had hit a nerve. He did not respond to her words nor her touch.

Johnny turned inward, closing off from conversation. You tried to coax him back out,

“Hey, here’s your phone. I think you missed a call.”

Without saying anything, he took the phone from you. He flipped through the message, and his expression remained unchanged.

“Gonna steal some of tha’ stew Hamish has been hidin’. You want in, thief?” He asked you, reaching for the pots and spoons before cracking open the freezer.

“Aren’t you gonna go to the pub?” You asked, trying to be as unbothered as possible.

He froze in place, holding the pot by its handle, locking eyes with you,

“No, not unless you wanted to do dinner with me, lass. Cravin’ samosas?”

It was a test. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t, but here you were, playing games. Could the party boy resist a party? You were about to find out.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Maybe a little. We could get take away.”

“Brilliant,” he grabbed his keys and followed you to the door.

Now that night had settled in, it was too cold in the Jeep. You held your arms right to your body and tried to shield yourself from the wind. Johnny dug around in the back and dragged out a camo jacket with his name tacked onto the chest.

You put it on and it swallowed you, warming you up from the inside out. The fold of the collar flapped just under your nose, letting you smell his orange, woody scent. There was something else, too. Gunpowder. You smelled like fireworks and winter citrus.

“Thanks,” you said, wrapping it tighter around you.

“You make it look good,��� his smile was bright and full of innocent praise, “Warm enough?”

You nodded, suddenly shy. You regretted your decision to drag him out of the house again. You should’ve kept him all to yourself, covetous and selfish like a hoarder, locking him in like a shorn Repunzel, playing like Circe with her pigs. But, you didn’t want to be Circe. You wanted to be Penelope. Permanent, as impossible though it may have been.

Was he Odysseus? Or Narcissus?

The car park was packed. He dropped you off at the door and you waited for him to find a spot in the back. He pulled the keys out of the Jeep and did a bit of a jog to catch up to you.

He commented on the crowd,

“Match is on. Rangers and Aberdeen. Whole town should be out tonight.”

You made a quiet noise in assent, not knowing enough about football to comment.

He held the gate open for you, and you walked through the smoky, crowded courtyard. Ettrick’s had tons of outdoor space, and the tall heat lamps made it cozy despite the nip in the air.

Inside, the noise hit you like a punch. It was a small space and the din was overwhelming. Warmth and bodies and smells tumbled over you like a wave. Johnny pulled a menu from the host stand, positioning himself as a barrier between you and the chaos.

He had to lean in close to you for you to hear him,

“Samosas, yeah? And we gotta do the chicken khorma. It’s top notch here, lass. Trust me.”

“Sure. Sounds good,” you smiled and watched him look around for the host.

Just as he rounded the corner, you heard a loud shout,

“MacTavish! You made it,” Lachlan’s voice carried through the crowded bar and you watched Johnny’s face light up in recognition.

He shook Lachlan’s hand and Bekah came up behind him, wrapping her arms in a tight hug, which he returned, just as tightly. They chatted together for a moment until you saw Lachlan look over Johnny’s big shoulder right into your eyes. He waved you over, and you tried to control your face. So much regret. But, you made your bed and now you had to lie in it.

“Hey, babes,” Lachlan and Bekah hugged you as well. The tall, handsome man made a point to leave his arm around your shoulder when you pulled away, “You can’t miss the game. We told Johnny you’re eating in, no complaints!”

“Yeah,” Bekah clung to Johnny’s heavy arm, “We’ve got plenty of room. Come have a seat.”

“Well…” Johnny started to make an excuse, giving you an out, but the look on his face was so earnestly disappointed that you interrupted him,

“Okay, thanks.”

You followed her to the table, and Johnny fell in behind. The waitress took your order. You watched the game, and you fell into a quiet lull. The room was bursting with energy, and you watched as Johnny slipped into the excitement. He fed off of the highs and the lows of the match. He barely touched his food, and you ate alone. He was right about the khorma. It was delicious. You wrapped up your leftover samosa and put it near his plate. He’d find it eventually.

You pushed your chair out and stood to leave. He turned to you and caught your hand. You stared at his hand and he stared down at it too, dropping it after a breath, forgetting himself for a moment,

“Where you off to, bonnie?”

“Ladies’ room. See you in a bit,” you ducked out of the crowd and into the bathroom for a moment, trying to get your thoughts together in the silence.

You washed your hands and avoided the mirror until you had to look. Then, there it was, the embroidered “MacTavish” across your chest, a little too ironic.

You took a deep breath and went back out into the fray. The Rangers scored, and Ettrick’s went wild. Bekah and Johnny held each other by the arms and screamed with joy into each other’s faces, nearly leaping over the table in celebration.

Johnny’s focus on her was so intense, the look in his eyes so full of fiery admiration, you could barely look at them. He could have Bekah. There were no rules against her like there were for you. You shouldn’t have had the nerve to even consider that he might choose you. How could he go against the wishes of his own sister? How could you?

You were right next to the back door, so you made your exit. It was a long walk back to his room, and you were nearly frozen by the time you got there. Rodger was still snoring away, and Pidge’s door was closed. So, you stripped down to just your shorts and a tank, and you crawled into bed, defeated.

TWO HOURS LATER

“There you are, mhèirleach! You had me worried sick,” the deep rumble of Johnny’s voice and his heavy weight shifting onto the mattress pulled you from your sleep.

You groaned, trying to deter his attention. He smelled like the bar, and himself, but mostly the bar. All you felt was guilt and shame and you wanted it to stop.

“Are you alright, lass? Why’d you go? I would’ve taken you back.”

“It’s fine,” you mumbled.

He didn’t reply. You fell back to sleep, starving for something you couldn’t eat.

…BEFORE MORNING

You awoke to a strong nose and jaw nuzzling your hair and neck, taking long deep inhales of your scent and breathing heavy. Johnny had his arm snaked up through the bottom of your shirt, his huge hand sticking out of the crew collar, holding you firmly against the base of your clavicle. His thumb was feeling the crescent curve where your throat met your body, over and over like he needed to memorize it. Like he wanted to find it again in the dark and know it was one and the same.

Was he awake? You couldn’t tell. You could tell, however, that his cock was pressing hard between your thighs, the fabric of your shorts shoved out of place by the fabric of his boxer briefs, straining against the thin cloth.

“A bheil thu milis, a mhèirleach?” Are you sweet, thief?

You decided that no, he wasn’t awake. He knew you didn’t speak Gaelic, and you had no idea what he was asking. Yet, your body seemed to. It recognized his aching timbre, its dark dulcet layers folding over your senses like silky caramel.

His hand retraced its path, sliding back through the valley of your breasts, exploring southward, finding the gaping waistband of your shorts and your lack of knickers under them. Upon discovery, his big body rocked into you, his thick rod riding into your thigh, begging for relief. A ragged, shuddering sigh left his lips and you felt it race across your skin.

“Feumaidh fios a bhith agam.” I need to know.

His words all slurred together. You were too busy melting under his hand to care for a translation. His wrist finally dipped low enough for him to slip one thick finger into your wet heat, soaking itself there like a wick in wax, coated and milky.

Your breath stalled. You couldn’t breathe in, nor out, and you felt your pussy clench around his knuckles, kissing his fingertip as he slipped it back out. Then, you watched as he slowly brought it to his lips, right next to your face, and you saw him feed himself with your slick, sucking it off of his skin, licking the knuckles of his fingers, eager for any missed drops.

Wild, crazed pleasure mixed with cold guilt in your chest. So, you called for help,

“Johnny?” Your voice was just above a whisper.

He breathed into your neck again, and then his tone changed. His language changed. He changed.

“Mm,” he whispered, “Sorry, thief. You stole my covers.”

With that excuse, he took some of the blanket from you and turned back over, breathing deeply again, leaving you there in a million little pieces.

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

Chapter 05

[strwbmei]

Matchup Event

Matchup for: @schendsal

Matchups: Yukong, Bronya, Eula

Contains: fluff, smut, male reader, breeding (Yukong), creampie mentions (Yukong), mentions of lactation (Yukong), breast play (Yukong and Bronya), marking (Bronya), semi-public sex (Eula), implied masturbation (Eula), blowjob (Eula)

A/N: Sorry for taking so long! Honestly, it was Yukong's part that took the longest because there was a bunch of stuff I had to confirm with the lore and then I ended up changing most of it by the time I was almost finished. Hope you like it, though!

Ask:

Congratulations on reaching 1,000 followers, I hope you continue to grow more and more!

Personality-wise I tend to be an ambivert.

Around close friends I'm the one in the group who's always cracking jokes or saying the most mind-numbingly stupid things. I do this to make them laugh and keep their spirits high, since I know that life can be pretty stressful for everyone. If that stress gets to be too much, then I'm happy to hear out their troubles and lend them a shoulder for support. I might not be able to solve their problems, but I want to be a source of strength for them at the least.

Outside my friend group I become a lot more closed off. Instead of goofing off, I'm told I become diligent and considerate of others. I like to make sure school assignments are completed ahead of time so my group can review it and help other groups if they become stuck. Though I usually end up as the group lead, I don't like to lead by force. Instead I prefer to let my team play to their strengths, and I'll make up the weaknesses as we go along. A happy team is a good team after all!

This doesn't mean I'm not without my flaws. I can be really immature at times, and I get depressed if I feel like I'm holding others back or can't perform at the high standard I set for myself. When this happens I usually close myself off from others and listen to music until I feel better. I can get competitive when it comes to things I'm passionate about, but not to the point of lashing out at others.

In terms of hobbies I have a few outside of games. I like reading, cooking for others, listening to music, and cheesy romance novels. I sketch a bit too, but I'm not very good at it, haha. I'm the type to take a lot of interest in my partners hobbies, and I'd probably bug them a bunch about it.

For the ask, I'd like a mix of SFW and NSFW with whomever I'm paired with. Sadly the only fandoms I'm familiar with are Honkai: Star Rail and Genshin Impact. Grinding for those two eats up most of my spare time, so I haven't gotten to try the others. The scenario could be a festival date or comforting one another after a long day of work. But if inspiration strikes you, feel free to write what you please!

I'm a heterosexual dominant, so I suppose I wouldn't want to be paired up with any of the men. (Fine as they may be). Intimacy for me is more about the connection than being extreme with it, and I take pride in providing my partner with pleasure. For my own tastes, I am into breeding, sleepy sex, semi-public sex, oral (giving & receiving), and breast play.

Yukong

╰┈➤ SFW ;

: ̗̀➛ No one would've guessed that you two were in a relationship, especially with how you two act in the workplace. In fact, everyone thought Yukong disliked you due to the high standard she always held you to when that was only because she knew she could count on you.

: ̗̀➛ That said, your relationship wasn't a secret. Yukong wasn't exactly the type to be all clingy and affectionate in public, much less while on the job, so everyone dismissed it as a joke whenever you called her your wife. They just thought you were one of those guys who liked getting treated harshly. Safe to say they were floored when they saw Yukong giving you a kiss on the cheek before heading into the building.

: ̗̀➛ She may have been an ace pilot who could calmly conquer the battlefield in any situation, but she couldn't help but feel nervous introducing you to Qingni. Yukong was extremely relieved that the two of you got along. Though, much to her detriment, you bonded over pulling silly pranks on her when she least expected them.

: ̗̀➛ Domestic life with Yukong couldn't be any better. She's responsible for her share of chores and helps you out whenever she can. Both her and Qingni are also a joy to cook for because you can easily see the way their eyes light up once they take the first bite.

: ̗̀➛ Once a month, without fail, the three of you clear your schedule to have a picnic trip together. Most of the time, you're the one who cooks all of the food while Yukong is the one who sets everything up. Once you're done eating, the three of you often opt to fly kites or catch up with each other. Both activities give Yukong a lot of comfort.

: ̗̀➛ Your relationship with her feels like home. In a future full of uncertainties and doubt, you find respite within each other. You might have disagreements every now and then, but they only make your bond and trust in the other person even stronger.

"Dear, could you pass me the salt, please?"

"Mm. Here you go."

"..."

"..." It's been a little bit longer than an hour since you first got home. You and Yukong didn't fight or anything, but the awkwardness is killing you. It's obvious that both of you have had a tiring day, even more so than usual.

The dining room is filled with soft, yet sharp sounds of tableware, and you're the first to actually try to break this uncomfortable silence. "You know you can talk to me about anything, Yukong." She nods and sighs. "I know, it's just... I've never been good with words."

Annnnnd it's back to that same soundlessness again. Not another word from either of you until you're in bed together. "I apologize for always treating you so harshly at work." She suddenly speaks up, turning to face you.

"It's nothing personal. Besides, I wouldn't want to get special treatment just because I'm your partner. What brought this on?"

She shakes her head. "Nothing in particular. I've just been really stressed with work lately, and I don't wish to cause any for you."

"Not at all. I know you only do that because you trust me." You smile, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead.

"Because you're one of the few I can depend on. You're always doing your best, and I'm proud of you for it."

"Yeah. Thank you, Yukong."

"I just want you to know that you can depend on me too. You don't have to shoulder everything on your own."

"..."

"..."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

╰┈➤ NSFW ;

: ̗̀➛ Breeding. Breeding. Breeding. It's quite literally all that's on her mind whenever the two of you make love. You could say that it's because of her genes or heat cycles, but Yukong can't deny that she's always wanted to have little pups to care for.

: ̗̀➛ She doesn't even care if she cums as long as you promise to stuff her full by the end of it. Of course, you'd never be so cruel, but it just goes to show how she'll gladly do anything to get you to breed her thoroughly.

: ̗̀➛ To Yukong, it doesn't matter whether she's on top or bottom. While she'd be grateful if you did most of the work, she's also perfectly willing to put in effort to get what she wants. Whether it be in her career or in bed, it's a whole different feeling of satisfaction to get what you've worked so hard for.

: ̗̀➛ Yukong isn't very vocal in bed, but that doesn't mean she isn't feeling good. It's quite the opposite, actually. You know you've got her good when she's biting her lip, nails digging into whatever part of you she can reach as her cunt clamps down hard on you.

: ̗̀➛ Despite never actually have given birth before, Yukong has the ability to lactate. You don't even have to play with her breasts to get her to— she'll lactate a good bit just from having an orgasm. Playing with her nipples certainly helps, though.

: ̗̀➛ Call her vanilla, but Yukong dislikes using toys in bed. She thinks they're a waste of time and prefers to get straight into the action. She won't mind using them on you if you want her to, but when it comes to herself, she'd much rather you pound her silly instead of wasting your energy on vibrators and the like.

You're in the kitchen, on your way to start making breakfast. You woke up early, and what better use of your time to make Yukong a nice meal? Currently, she's in your shared room, getting some much needed rest.

Or so you thought until you saw her standing by the doorframe wearing nothing but one of your dress shirts. "Good morning, Yukong. What do you think of pancakes for breakfast?" You smile at her, on your way to grab your apron.

You're quickly stopped in your tracks when Yukong suddenly stumbles, almost falling to the ground. "Yukong! Are you alright?" She shakes her head. "My love... I need your help."

You're worried and confused for a moment before you look down to see her thighs sticky with her fluids.

Oh.

You gulp. "I understand. Don't worry, I'll take care of you." Your hands make their way to the buttons of her shirt, and you're able to feel just how hot her body is beneath it. Even more so than during her usual heat cycles.

You leave kisses along her neck, collarbones, and her now exposed chest, but it seems Yukong doesn't want that. Her mind is hazy, and her lust for you only worsens by the second.

She takes your hand, guiding it to her dripping cunt,and you can feel just how much she needs you. Yukong looks at you with dazed eyes, "There's no need for you to be such a gentleman. I'm... really not in the mood for teasing right now."

Bronya

╰┈➤ SFW ;

: ̗̀➛ Bronya loved being the Supreme Guardian. Truly, she did—but loving something doesn't mean she's always happy to do it. She was glad to help her people and take on their burdens, but the dark circles under her eyes spoke for themselves as did her obvious fatigue.

: ̗̀➛ Every day felt like an endless cycle of document after document until you came into her life. Everybody else felt it wasn't their place to try to assist Bronya with her duties, and you were the only one who made an effort to help.

: ̗̀➛ Seeing the cup of coffee on her desk with a small note always gives Bronya the strength she needs to push through the day because she immediately knows who it's from. The coffee is made just how she likes it, at just the right temperature. It's a secret that she won't tell even you, but she keeps all of those post-its you leave in a drawer and looks through them whenever she misses you.

: ̗̀➛ Even with a busy lifestyle, she tries to make as much time for you as she can and comes home into your arms as early as possible. Sure, fancy dates might not always be feasible, but can it really get better than cuddling with each other as you fall asleep?

: ̗̀➛ She doesn't want to reveal your relationship to the public until you're married, but everyone can clearly see that the two of you have something going on. The way she smiles when she's with you is completely different.

: ̗̀➛ Overall, they're just glad that their Supreme Guardian isn't overworking herself as much. Everyone tells her to rest, but you're the only one that she isn't as stubborn with.

Cocolia Rand, her mother. Cocolia Rand, the Supreme Guardian.

Since when did the line start to blur? Perhaps such a "line" did not exist in the first place. Perhaps she deliberately chose to ignore the undeniable signs of impending catastrophe. And yet, what did that lead to?

It's already been a year, but her nightmares repeat like clockwork all the same. Just when she thinks she's come to accept what happened, memories much too vivid come back to haunt her.

Bronya jolts awake in a cold sweat. She tries to draw breath, but air fails to enter her lungs. It feels as if they've closed themselves; as if this were punishment for her ignorance.

"Bronya... Bronya!" You call out to her. Seeing you has eased the aching in her heart ever so slightly, and finally, she can breathe.

Bronya hadn't shed a single tear since that day; she vowed to herself and to her mother that she wouldn't. Yet, without realizing it, a stream of them makes their way down her cheeks.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know what's gotten into me so suddenly..." Bronya sniffles, wiping her tears. You pull her into a tight hug, and she gladly takes the opportunity to hide her face in your neck. She doesn't want you to see her like this.

"It's okay. It'll all be alright. I'm here for you."

Just like that, something inside of Bronya shatters. All of the anger and sadness she's felt for so long, all at once. She bursts into tears and sobs into your shirt. "You've been so brave, haven't you?"

Almost an hour passes as you comfort her, and she finally starts to calm down. She pulls away, looking up at you with puffy, tear-stained eyes. "There's nothing left. I've lost everything." You muster up the warmest smile you can manage and bring a hand up to caress her cheek. "You're wrong, Bronya. There is still something left." "A chance to take everything back."

╰┈➤ NSFW ;

: ̗̀➛ Bronya is the most submissive person to walk this universe EVER. The human embodiment of the phrase "you tell me to jump, I ask how high." She'll do whatever you want as soon as you say the word because making you feel good makes her feel good.

: ̗̀➛ Considering the type of person you are, sex with Bronya is almost like a competition of pleasuring the other person more. She's very good at turning you on, but she's way too tired to do much most of the time. Bronya still tries, of course, but you always end up winning this little "competition" of yours.

: ̗̀➛ She's such a big baby in a way that just makes you want to spoil her rotten. Holding hands, hugging, kissing, you name it— she'll cling onto you every chance she gets. The sweet thing just has to touch you, and you could never bring yourself to deny her.

: ̗̀➛ Her moans are so pretty, too! They're drawn-out and breathy, growing louder as she nears her orgasm. She tries not to be too loud, but it just feels too good sometimes. One side of you wants to make her scream your name loud enough for everyone else to hear, while the other wants to keep her cute sounds all to yourself.

: ̗̀➛ Scratches a lot, but the marks aren't too deep thanks to her nails always being perfectly filed. She doesn't leave hickeys (much) as she's more of the type to leave soft, quick kisses wherever she can reach. Bronya can't help feeling guilty seeing the red lines she made on your back, though. There are many other ways she can mark you as hers, after all. She doesn't want to hurt you.

"My love..." Bronya sighs dreamily, feeling your hands trail up her body. Your warmth provided her comfort to get through the night, and truly, that was the only thing she sought from you before all of this began.

A kiss. That was all it took for lust to plant itself in your hearts.

She tilted her head, and you gladly took the chance to leave soft kisses along her neck. Your fingers traced her body; down to her her hips, back up to her breasts, and finally, they found themselves playing with her nipples.

"Mmh..." Bronya groaned, leaning into your touch. You hum in response, rolling the buds on your fingers. "Beautiful girl." A soft, yet sudden pinch makes her gasp and arch her back. "Love you so much..."

Your warmth was no longer enough. Bronya wanted more; wanted you. You made her feel like the greediest woman in Belobog, and for some reason, she loved it. "Please, I want you."

Halting your movements, you gently flip her over so that you're on top of her. You take the hand covering her mouth and kiss the inside of her wrist. "Then, you will have me. I'm all yours."

Is lust just another fragment of love or an impurity that taints it? Is Bronya your adored muse, or your most beloved sin?

Eula

╰┈➤ SFW ;

: ̗̀➛ Honestly, the two of you didn't quite get along at first. She wasn't outright uncooperative when the two of you went on missions, but you could feel how strangely distant she was being for seemingly no reason. You only broke the ice once you invited her to a drink to celebrate finishing a particularly difficult mission together.

: ̗̀➛ She's never had someone willingly accompany her, much less invite her to a bar, so she ended up talking your ear off as she vented her frustrations about the discrimination she faced just for her last name. While her family has done some messed up stuff, that isn't necessarily her fault. She's just a normal girl.

: ̗̀➛ No one could've expected it, but the first thing you discovered you had in common with the infamous Spindrift Knight was your love for cheesy romance novels. How you found out? You were both drunk. You started reciting the cringiest dialogue you could remember from them, and Eula continued the lines after you.

: ̗̀➛ Even though you first got to really know her while drinking with her, Eula only really shows her true self once she's alone with you. She's the gentlest, kindest, most compassionate woman you've ever met. You wonder if the rest of Mondstadt were blind to not see Eula beyond her being a Lawrence, but really, she's only this vulnerable when she's with you.

: ̗̀➛ Marriage in particular is one of her biggest fantasies. There's just something really romantic to her about being so... deeply connected to each other. Eula always thought it'd be impossible for someone like her, yet, here you are. You accept her and all her flaws with open arms. She's so used to blazing flames to the point that your gentle warmth feels so alien. It's not a feeling she's used to, but that doesn't mean that she won't cherish it.

: ̗̀➛ Speaking of marriage, Eula would prefer to take your last name. She's not running away from her family's actions; much less is she trying to clear their name. Eula knows that what they've done is unforgivable. A name is what makes up a good part of your identity. It's what people will remember you as and it's who you are to them. Bearing your last name makes her feel like she's taking a part of you with her wherever she goes no matter how much time passes, and that gives her indescribable comfort.

Eula never liked the Windblume festival. No, Eula hated the Windblume festival.

Why wouldn't she? Everything was so noisy. Even during the day, taverns were filled with drunks merrily getting wasted. There were fewer commissioners, which left more work for her to do.

It didn't help that the Windblume Festival also symbolized the downfall of the Lawrence clan.

Festivity filled Mondstadt's winds, and any form of participation from her earned nothing but more scorn from the townspeople she works so hard to protect.

Although Eula had you this time around, she didn't want to keep you from enjoying the festival just because she couldn't participate.

Alas, she forgot to consider one thing: It's you who knows her best. You know that she wants to celebrate just like everybody else. So if she can't go to the festival, why not bring the festival to her instead?

Maybe you can't exactly replicate the festive atmosphere and the little games, but that wasn't going to stop you. The essence of the Windblume Festival doesn't lie in high-quality wine and fancy ceremonies, but in showing your loved ones that you care.

Eula had her suspicions when you suddenly took her on a date saying you "knew a spot," but she didn't expect to see a secluded place in the forest filled to the brim with dandelions.

"So? What do you think?" You smile at her, pride filling you once you see how awestruck she is. It's not often she's so surprised. "It's... beautiful." Eula replies. The softness of her voice as she says this is one she shows only to you.

After a moment passes, you take a deep breath. "You're everything to me," you pick a dandelion, presenting it to her with a confident smile on your face. "more precious than the very air I breathe..."

It's her favorite line from her favorite novel. To other people, it might not make sense, but she remembers it vividly and she's glad that you do, too. She can't help but chuckle as she takes the flower from your hand.

"Or the chocolates I love." She continues. Honestly, it sounds more cheesy rather than romantic in real life, but she can't stop herself from smiling like an idiot. After all, she always viewed those books as nothing more than a mere fantasy.

"You'll always be my treasure."

╰┈➤ NSFW ;

: ̗̀➛ Great would be an understatement to describe your sex life with Eula. She's flexible, has seemingly endless stamina, and her hips work wonders. Not to mention she has the most attractive body you've seen and an even more attractive face to go along with it.

: ̗̀➛ Eula is neither dominant nor submissive. She does things her own way, based on whatever she feels like doing at a given moment. If Eula wants to ride you, she'll ride you. If she wants to give you head, she'll give you head and vice versa. Eula is just focused on making the both of you feel good.

: ̗̀➛ She's fine with mostly anything as long as she can see your face during sex. If not that, then at least to feel your hands somewhere on her. Eula might not look like the type, but she's inexperienced with all of this and she just needs to see that you're the one making her feel so good.

: ̗̀➛ Eula denies it, but she loves the risk of semi-public sex. It gets her heartbeat rising and adrenaline pumping. Everything about it from having to keep quiet to the chance of being caught in such an explicit act turns her on.

: ̗̀➛ She's surprisingly shy in bed though, especially during your first time. She becomes all cute and focused, trying her best not to mess anything up. Eula becomes more daring and bold as time passes, but hearing reassurance and praise from you is always appreciated.

: ̗̀➛ Riding you is her favorite thing to do. The position you're in gives both of you just the right amount of control. She doesn't have to move much for it to feel good either, just feeling your cock grind against her walls has her biting her moans back.

"I understand that I'm attractive, but do you always have to be so... easily roused?" Eula looks up at you, a shade of pink spotting her cheeks and eyes full of annoyance.

Okay, maybe this was partly her fault since she's been putting herself in provocative positions in front of you, but she only expected a bit of fun once you got home.

She certainly wasn't expecting to suck you off in a random alleyway where you could easily be caught.

"Eula, you really don't have to..." You sigh. Admittedly, this whole situation was really turning you on, but you didn't want to force her into doing anything she didn't want to do nonetheless.

"You really think I'd let you walk home with such an obvious boner?" She glares. She did have a point— ignoring it would just bring both of you embarrassment. "Just... make sure to finish quickly. This place reeks..."

Nimble hands work to quickly undo your pants and free your aching cock. Eula would much rather take her time in the comforts of your home, but the situation just doesn't allow for that.

Not even a second later, you can feel her lips wrapped around the tip, working its way down your length eagerly. Every inch that isn't in her mouth is being carefully handled by her hands.

It takes all of your strength to keep quiet as she moves her tongue exactly how you like it. "Fuck... Eula..." You groan. When you start softly tugging at her hair and bucking your hips, she knows you're near your orgasm.

What really brought you over the edge was the sight of Eula grinding on her own hand as she sucked you off. Warm cum fills her mouth, and she swallows all of it. "Geez, you're gonna make a mess..." She complains.

Seeing the wet patch on her shorts, you know that you'll have to finish what you started.

[pookietv]

the not-so-useless hotline | george clarke

this has been rotting in my drafts for a while but it was a req so i hope you enjoy! may be a little sucky, sorry about that :)

dedicated to both the nonnie who requested and the nonnie who was adorable to me in dms so!!!!

to be honest, you didn't even really know what you had become well known for.

you started on youtube, ended up singing and modelling and vlogging and god knows what else, and you were a little bit of a mystery to the world.

but, nonetheless you had become adored by the internet, and eventually dragged on a podcast by max, who you had met on a brand trip and had grown to quite like, even if you had only seen him a handful of times.

so when you showed up to a little office with worn out computers and a smile on max's face, it did make you giggle to be on the set that you had seen him, and george, who even though you had seen him a lot online, you admittedly knew next to nothing about.

"y/n! hello, welcome!" you were invited in by who you assumed was a manager, who helped you get microphoned up, staying quiet whilst you listened to max and george speak and introduce the podcast whilst you waited on the sidelines for being introduced.

so when you heard the, "okay, send her up for the interview!" and you sat opposite them, your cheeks were a little red from laughing as it felt strange to be sat opposite them in such a corporate setting, even if was all a big joke.

"welcome y/n to your interview at the useless hotline! i'm max, this is george, very important interview today," max joked, and you nodded a little more, laughing and repeating, "very important, yes."

"yeah, i'm so glad to be here, i really need this job!" you joked back, allowing yourself to have a moment looking at george, being your first proper time meeting him. he was quite attractive, put together nicely.

"well, we have very high standards here, although max doesn't reflect that too well," george joked back, and you nodded in a teasingly solemn look.

"well, every company has it's stinker, and i suppose here it's max," you smiled, and max rolled his eyes.

"you bitch! haven't even introduced yourself and you're already mocking me," max grinned.

"oh, sorry, i introduce myself and then mock you?" you teased back.

after being made to make max and george extremely potent alcoholic drinks, and introducing yourself, with a little gossip about music and max's social life, eventually you get questions thrown your way.

"well, we figured we need to talk to you about your dating life, 'cause that's where our clickbait will be," george joked.

"literally! everyone knows you as some maneating mysterious woman going on dates all the time, and we're nosy," max teased, and you rolled your eyes in response.

"i'm not a maneater! jesus, you leave a bad impression max! i would just say i am very picky, that's all. y'know, high standards." you hummed a little as you drank your drink with a small grin.

"oh, come on, you know yourself there has been a cast of rotating rumours of people that the internet thought you might be dating," max urged, and you shrugged a little. "plus, when we went on that bar thing on the latest brand trip you told me about a few of them, so there must be some drama there!" he joked a little more.

"men are just very disappointing creatures, you know? there just hasn't really been one where i've been like, yeah, this person is fun to be around and i would like to be around them a lot of the time, so i'm still single!" i explained with a giggle.

"george is literally always saying something of a similar tune, he is kind of just a picky man," max joked a little, and i grinned and raised my eyebrows at george.

"picky, hm? i suppose i'm a little picky, but i don't think that's necessarily bad, i just think i would love to hold out for someone who is really for me, you know?" i asked him curiously.

"i wouldn't even say i'm picky, i just think... there's a kind of thing, where i'll, you know, find someone where i'm just like, yeah, this feels right," george explained, and i nodded.

"so do you have like.. a type?" max asked me, "george's type always seems to be women who don't like him back." max teased.

"there have definitely been some stinkers in the past but... i mean, i wouldn't even say i have a type, really. i like funny people, and i'd like someone that's taller then me... um, i guess i like facial hair but that's not a dealbreaker if not," i laughed a little awkwardly with a shrug of my shoulders.

"well, i'd say you'd like george but he is exceptionally not funny," max grinned to himself and i rolled my eyes in a giggly way, watching george turn to max.

"because you're just so witty yourself, max,"

the podcast continued, with topics only getting more intrusive and unhinged as we continued, before we got to the point where we were answering asks, and one came up asking george on a date as a plus one to a wedding.

"fuck you! see, everyone comes on the podcast and thirsts over george, but what if you had asked me? i would actually have shown up, how about that!" max huffed whilst george tried not to laugh.

"what, people try and hit on george through the podcast?" you asked, laughing myself.

"yeah, they do, his name is max balegde," george joked.

"they're really scraping the bottom of the barrel if they want george," max grinned, before looking at me, "do you get a lot of the whole randomers asking you out thing? seeing as you're so thirsted over on the internet?"

"i mean, i suppose so, but i don't read too many of them, they just stay in the requests bit of my messages so i don't pay them too much attention," you giggled slightly, shrugging, "though, i do appreciate the compliments, sometimes if i'm just having a really crap day i'll just look through edits of myself. is that narcissistic? maybe it is, but it does make you feel good,"

"max was begging people to make edits of him on one of the podcast episodes so i'm sure you're not too bad," george grinned to you, and you tittered a little at his answer, grinning back at him.

george was pretty attractive, actually.

it had been about a week since the episode of you on the useless hotline had come out: and to say you had been bombarded would be an understatement.

from shipping fan edits to insane tweets, there seemed to be a common theme, the theory that you were dating george.

he had texted you a little, talking about when the podcast was going to come out, and asking you if you had any plans over the weekend, mainly casual talk as he told you funny stories about his roommates, arthur and chris, and occasionally sending you photos of himself pulling faces.

liked by max_balegde, georgeclarkeey and 12,039 others

yourusername: my roommate tried to push me out of a window (but i made her take cute pictures so)

miaxmon: shut up i did not push you!

↳ yourusername: @/miaxmon whatever you say PUSHER

userone: since WHEN did she live with mia ???

↳ yourusername: since she begged me to live with her bc im awesome and sexy and she couldn't live without me (but actually for about six months!)

georgeclarkeey: she should have finished the job

↳ yourusername: smh silly george if she pushed me out the window then who else would the internet ship you with???

↳ georgeclarkeey: someone tolerable hopefully

↳ yourusername: i can see why you got stood up now

you have a new message from @/georgeclarkeey!

georgeclarkeey: now that was just cruel and uncalled for

yourusername: it was honesty which girl would show up for a date with you ???

georgeclarkeey: you hopefully

yourusername: you what???

georgeclarkeey: would you show up on a date with me?

yourusername: only if you said sorry for wanting mia to finish me off and that i am the best :)

georgeclarkeey: i just audibly sighed

georgeclarkeey: you are the best and i am sorry for saying i wanted mia to finish the job

georgeclarkeey: happy?

yourusername: absolutely

yourusername: so, a date?

georgeclarkeey: i was thinking a really tall building with loads of open windows. thoughts?

yourusername: you're sooooo funny george

georgeclarkeey: i know i know i'm hilarious

georgeclarkeey: i was actually thinking we could go to flight club and play darts

yourusername: i will beat you SO bad

georgeclarkeey: can't wait :)

yourusername: anyway, i thought you were really picky about who you go on dates with?

georgeclarkeey: i usually am

georgeclarkeey: i guess you just feel right

yourusername: are you this soppy with all your dates?

georgeclarkeey: well they usually don't show up so you'll be the first, obviously

georgeclarkeey: anyway i thought you were picky as well?

yourusername: okay shut up now george :)

[jujumin-translates]

Sakuya Sakuma | [R] Keeping Your Love All to Myself | Sakuya-kun’s Love Life!?

Sakuya: Hmm… What should I get the Director for White Day?

Sakuya: (I want to give her something she’ll be happy with, but there’s so many things to choose from.)

Sakuya: (Huh, is that Kasumi-san over there?)

Sakuya: Kasumi-san, hello!

Kasumi: Hello, Sakuya-kun! Never thought I’d run into you here.

Sakuya: Same here! Are you out shopping too, Kasumi-san?

Kasumi: No. I just finished doing an interview and I’m on my way back to the publisher.

Sakuya: Ah, I see…! I’m so sorry to hold you up like this while you’re working!

Kasumi: Fufu, don’t worry about it. I was planning on taking a break and taking my time getting back.

Kasumi: Anyway, about what you just said… you’re in the middle of doing some shopping right now, Sakuya-kun?

Sakuya: Yeah, I am, but…

Kasumi: …But something is troubling you?

Sakuya: Huh, how’d you know!?

Kasumi: I could tell just by looking at your face. Feel free to confide in me, I’m always willing to talk things out with you, okay?

Sakuya: …Thank you so much! Well then, is it okay if I talk to you about it a bit now?

Kasumi: Yes, of course!

Sakuya: Actually, I’m worried about getting a gift for someone dear to me for White Day.

Kasumi: I see, White Day is coming up, isn’t it?

Kasumi: …Wait, someone dear to you!?

Sakuya: (Huh? The Director has always looked out for me, so she’s someone dear to me, right?)

Sakuya: Yeah. But I’ve looked at so many different stores, but I still don’t know what to get…

Kasumi: Your face is so serious, Sakuya-kun… That person must be really important to you.

Sakuya: Of course!

Kasumi: So in other words, this is about your love life…!

*Wind blows*

Sakuya: Huh? What was that? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that because of the wind…

Kasumi: No, it’s nothing! Anyway, this means you have to put all your heart into picking something out.

Sakuya: Yeah!

Kasumi: Right… I think it’s pretty standard to give sweets in return, but I think something like a handkerchief would also be nice to get…

Kasumi: If they’re a busy person, something like bath salts or hand cream could be a good idea around this time of year.

Sakuya: Ah…! That reminds me, she did mention that her skin has been feeling a little dry lately!

Kasumi: Then I think hand cream would be just the thing! It looks gorgeous and I think it’d be the perfect thing to give in return.

Kasumi: Right, right, there’s a new hand cream that just released that smells like sakura and it’s really popular with women right now…

· ❀ —– ٠ ❀ ٠ —– ❀ ·

Sakuya: Thanks to you, I was able to decide on something to give her! And thank you so much for telling me about the store that sells the hand cream, Kasumi-san!

Kasumi: Fufu, you’re welcome. I’m glad I was able to help you, Sakuya-kun.

Sakuya: Well then, I think I’m gonna head off right away!

Kasumi: Head off… to the store that I told you about?

Sakuya: Yeah! If it’s a popular hand cream, then I need to get there as soon as I can or it might sell out.

Kasumi: But will you be okay on your own? Do you want me to come with you?

Sakuya: Thank you for your concern. But I’ll be fine!

Kasumi: I see. Well then, take care, okay?

Sakuya: I will! Thank you so much for your help today, Kasumi-san!

*Footsteps*

Kasumi: …

Kasumi: (I’m still worried though, since it’s a little complicated to buy high-end cosmetics. I’ve still got some time before my break is over…)

Kasumi: Alright, I’ll go and check in on him just a little bit!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: I’m here…

Sakuya: (I don’t come to places like this very much, so I’m a little nervous, but…)

Sakuya: (I think this is the store that sells the hand cream Kasumi-san told me about.)

Sakuya: Excuse me. I came here to buy a hand cream that smells like sakura…

Store Worker: The new product that was released last week, correct? Excuse me for asking, but did you make an online reservation, sir?

Sakuya: Huh, reservation?

Store Worker: Yes. That item has become very popular, so most people come here after making a reservation…

Sakuya: I-I see!

Sakuya: I’m sorry, I didn’t make a reservation… Do you have to make one in order to buy it?

Store Worker: No, if there are any left in stock in the store, we’ll be able to give one to you.

Store Worker: Would you please wait here a moment while I go check?

Sakuya: Yes! Of course!

Kasumi: (Way to go, Sakuya-kun! Please let there be some in stock…!)

Azami: Hm? Is that Kasumi-san?

Yuki: What are you doing sneaking around like that?

Kasumi: Azami-kun and Yuki-kun!? Umm, well, about that…

Sakuya: Huh? That voice… Kasumi-san?

Kasumi: S-Sakuya-kun!

Sakuya: And Azami-kun and Yuki-kun too… Are you three shopping together?

Yuki: I don’t know what Kasumi’s doing, but Azami and I came to check out the new high-end cosmetics.

Kasumi: Right, right, I just bumped into them by chance. I just… had something important to attend to.

Sakuya: I see! Ah. Kasumi-san, I was able to get the hand cream!

Kasumi: Really? I’m glad!

Sakuya: Me too. It seems like it’s really popular, but the store worker told me they had just one left in stock…

Sakuya: Now I’ll be able to properly give her a gift in return for White Day. Thank you so much, Kasumi-san!

Kasumi: (Aaah, Sakuya-kun’s shining smile…! It seems like he’s really happy to have gotten the hand cream.)

Kasumi: …So precious.

Azami: Okay, seriously, what the hell’s going on?

Yuki: Right? I don’t know either, but I think we should just stay out of it…

[pinkest-nekomata]

As a “figurative language is my special interest” flavored auDHDer, I wanted to share some things I have taken too literally that were not immediately obvious:

The phrase “taking things too literally,” which DOES NOT apparently only mean in the context of figurative language or sarcasm, but which also means “expecting an allistic said what they meant even when they weren’t joking and just used vague language instead of making an actual effort at communicating”, see also:

“They worked tirelessly” is just a thing people say to mean “they worked hard”

“They never complained” means they didn’t complain enough to seem like a complainer, but they might have complained quite a bit, just not in an “annoying” way

“They’re always there for me” apparently can apply after only one instance of support, and certainly doesn’t always mean they’re answering calls in the middle of the night

“She always has a smile on her face” means she smiles like 20% more than typical but she has also probably been sad or upset around them multiple times

“Write a couple of sentences” means anything from two short sentences to, like, paragraphs

“Friend” can mean just like, a vague acquaintance

So yeah do you see a trend of me holding myself to impossibly high standards because I sure do 🙃

If these resonated with you, tell me in the notes and I will write more!

[ice-block]

Idk if anyone is interested but I thought I’d put it out there because the other day I was talking w my therapist and she said when people have a negative experience with something they’re WAY more likely to tell everyone they know and when they have a good or neutral experience they don’t think much of it SO I’d like to put something positive out there for anyone who might be in the position I was in.

So anyway here’s my experience getting my first pap smear, as someone with an INSANE amount of anxiety about it:

I try to keep some less than pleasant personal stuff off this blog but I’ve got a decently sized medical phobia, general mistrust of gynecology after reading too many horror stories, and some weirdness about gender/sexuality/body (???) I don’t entirely understand myself. I also understand that maintaining personal health is important even if it’s scary so when my doctor told me it was time to make an appointment with a gynecologist, I did it, then spent the next 3 weeks having nightmares, anxiety attacks, and experiencing a general sense of impending doom as the appointment approached.

Things my therapist and I talked about before hand included:

1.) save your stress for the future, if it goes good, great! If it goes poorly, you’re allowed to be stressed then . Don’t make yourself suffer unless you need to.

2.) know what accommodations you want and be prepared to ask for them confidently and clearly. I wanted the smallest speculum, a warning BEFORE any and all touching, and to be able to stop at any moment.

The appointment eventually did arrive and while I was still a ball of nerves I got myself there and obediently went through the steps of registering as a patient and remaining sane in the waiting room, I was called to the back (if you have a support person you want to bring with you you can but I went alone) and chatted with the nurse about health history etc, this pretty much resembled your standard doctors appointment, they take your heart rate, BP, etc. the nurse wrapped up and told me the doctor would be in in a minute, I should undress from the waist down, and showed me a cloth (which was basically a really big napkin) I could cover my lap with. I definitely went pale at this and if my high blood pressure didn’t tip her off she definitely knew I was internally freaking out. She offered to have the doctor come in first if that would make me more comfortable and I declined.

I was left alone to undress, it feels really weird to take off your pants in an office with fluorescent lighting, after a minute the doctor knocked then came in (there’s also a curtain in front of the door so nobody walking past can just see you pants-less) she was a very kind woman who asked me some questions about it being my first time, at this point I was prepared to say my demands but I was very shocked when she beat me to it! She outright offered the smallest speculum and said “I’m going to show you the tools, we’ll talk through the procedure, and we’ll decide if a Pap smear is something we want to do today” which made me instantly feel so much better. My other surprise was how SMALL the smallest speculum was! It was about the size of my pointer finger. If it had been larger I honestly don’t know if I could have done the procedure but once I realized it was tiny I knew it’d be ok. (Also side note: it feels really weird to talk with someone while pants-less and holding a big napkin over your crotch)

I was instructed to lay on the exam table, which was really low to the ground when I got on it then raised up like a dentists chair, the little foot holds popped out from underneath it and I was instructed to put my feet in the holds and scoot all the way to the edge, I kept looking at the doctor through this and was told that during the exam I would have to look up at the ceiling. She warned me before even the slightest touch (“I’m going to put my hand on your thigh now”) asked if I was ready, when I said yes she inserted the speculum, which felt weird but not painful, it didn’t even feel painful when it opened. Just strange. Then the doctor took a cell scraping which felt REALLY weird for a part of the body not used to that sensation at all. It felt scratchy and then for a brief second their was a bit of pain (I’d rate like a 3 out of 10) and I thought “if this lasts any longer I can’t do this” but it was really only a split second and the worst moment was also the end. The speculum was quickly removed making the Pap smear a total of like 30 seconds max. Then the doctor told me she would check my uterus and ovaries and (still maintaining consent and giving warning) inserted a finger and pressed with her other hand hard on my stomach, this didn’t hurt either and the pressure/rubbing on my stomach made it so I wasn’t thinking about her other hand at all! Then I was allowed to sit up again, close my legs, the doctor asked if I had any questions and I was out of there!

Anyway hopefully this can help someone out there I tried to include all the details I had wanted while doing frantic research before hand, if you’re in the same boat, you can do this!

[amphiptere-art]

Hey.

So I might be removing myself from watching anything of the Sun and Moon show.

I'm definitely not entirely leaving the fandom. But it's fairly close. I just can't watch it anymore. Eclipse is a comfort character for a reason, and seeing him being treated like shit without him even doing anything villainous is just a little too much.

No one has been able to explain to me how eclipse could get a good outcome out of this. Not without saying that the writers are going to retcon own characters. Which doesn't exactly make me feel good about Eclipse either.

There's a reason I actually gave Algol his design. I wasn't really planning on having him be a character in the sulky star cluster. It was a code name, And maybe eventually when we got to the end arc of the show he would join. But he definitely was supposed to be more of a background character.

That is no longer the case. Algol will be joining shortly. And with him is my departure from watching the show.

I also do not want to have much knowledge over what's happening. Not unless it is in Eclipses favor. If all you can tell me is that an episode is funny, because it either doesn't include eclipse, or just a simple fact that eclipse is snarky in the face of his absolutely terrible situation. Then I definitely don't want it. Unless Eclipse is actually getting therapy, or mental help. Or perhaps escapes and returns to your standard Saturday morning cartoon villain.

I Don't Want It.

I don't want to learn that eclipse is still stuck in the same shitty situation. I don't want to learn that eclipse is still being treated terribly by Sun and Moon. I don't want to learn the eclipse is still suffering because of his created pains.

Bottom line, I'm not watching it I'm going to try my hardest to avoid spoilers.

My characters are no longer able to watch a show. The channel can no longer be found. Alvis has locked the book. And now only the footnotes can be seen.

There is a very high chance that I will start posting more standard security breach like stuff. Such as warehouse, rusted wheels, perrfect thief, stop you silly siren, ect. Since I will not be watching the show my characters are only growing off of themselves, and crossovers. And if I'm being honest that line is a little thin.

Most of my character stories have either ended, have had arcs, or just set in a continuous world that's not really evolving. So my Tsams characters I just kind of floating waiting for another ship to come around. Who's going to be a little bits of action but it's going to be slow. Something for my own entertainment.

So while I might be holding back on my Tsams characters. I might ask for interactions with my characters in these other worlds. Such as perrfect thief or rusted wheels. As I would actually like to see interactions with those characters a lot more than Tsams ones.

[mareenavee]

Do you think there’d be obese people in the Fourth Era? Where?

Hi! Thanks for the ask. We don't see this much in game. In general, body type diversity is rather rare or sparse in this medium, as much as we'd like to see different takes.

I also want to preface this by saying this has no reflection on how things are in real life, or what I believe about modern living or people in general. Everyone has value and deserves to be heard no matter outward appearances.

Being a larger individual myself irl, I tend to avoid descriptors like 'obese' in my writing. Just tired of hearing the turn of phrase honestly. There's other ways to convey the image, other words to choose, and also no harm in letting readers decide how to envision a specific character.

This is a simple and not very well researched answer, I understand, but just a bit of what I thought of off the top of my head regarding the question.

I think Fourth Era Tamriel is in a bit of a state of decay, to be honest. There've been wars and disasters for a couple centuries by the events of Skyrim. The Empire's influence is stretched a bit too thin, and they've lost provinces to The Aldmeri Dominion and to general unrest, among other things. In Skyrim, we see the state of things. Decay seems to be a running theme for the story, from my eyes, and the Dragonborn is supposed to maybe bring a bit of hope back to the narrative, but it's unclear really if they are successful on that front or not. I kind of lean into this in my fic. Things are difficult everywhere. It's possible to earn money, but most of the higher paying work is dangerous and physically taxing.

I think because of the Civil War specifically, food supplies are not as plentiful as they might have been otherwise. I think it's difficult for the working class individuals to afford as much security as they'd normally have been able to, as I'd assume prices are kind of high, if the danger of getting goods from point a to point b is almost insurmountable. People have to work more to afford the same amount of supplies and security. There's more things on the roads that need to be fought. I don't think there's "plenty" of food for everyone, especially if things sort of still function very capitalistically in most holds. We see beggars in game in most cities.

Not by virtue of beauty standards or trying, I think many if not most people would have to move/work too much on too little food to have a larger body structure. I think, just like in many real world societies in the past, the more money and power and resources a person has, the more rest they can afford and the more likely they'd be to have extra weight on their frames.

There's a lot of factors to this but the short answer probably is yes, I'm sure there are. And where? Probably more likely in the keeps, castles, manors and estates of the very rich across most provinces who can afford to rest and worry very little about food supplies.

I'd be grateful if someone with irl history background could hop in on this question and equate a few things to Tamriel for me. (:

[camp-counselor-life]

Gonna be honest y'all, I am not doing great. In addition to spending last month and the next two months on a medication change (possibly longer) and running six events last month, this week, I ran two evening programs, took a triggering all day training, went to the dentist where they found multiple issues, and did a psychiatry appointment about the meds. This may have been too much.

I'm overwhelmed and exhausted and anxious and literally made myself go on a walk until I was too exhausted to be anxious. I am struggling to find what I need. I hold myself to high standards and take on a lot, but I might have taken on too much.

Anyway, feel free to ignore or to leave a kind word as I sort out how to best manage whatever is happening.

[sheepwithspecs]

A Piece of You

|| FFXIV || Rated T || XIVRarepairWeek2024 ||

Ao3 Link

(Seven years + two emotionally compromised pirates) ÷ a special gift = ???

Day 2: Lover's Token Carvallain x Rhoswen

“I have something for you.”

“Hm?” Rhoswen stretched languidly, basking in the luxurious feel of crisp linen against her bare skin. Her lover was already half-dressed, gaskins unlaced and hanging low on his hips as he walked across the bedchamber. He held something in his hand, too small to see; to see his long fingers curled protectively around it brought to mind younglings cupping tadpoles in the shallows of the Agelyss River.

“Here.” Carvallain sat on the side of the bed, the mattress barely sagging beneath his weight—no doubt a testament to the fine quality of the mattress. Of course, everything contained in his private rooms was fine, if not exquisite. As one of the richest men in Limsa Lominsa, he held shockingly high standards for what others might call creature comforts. Surprisingly, his taste for extravagance had never managed to rub off on her over the course of their liaison, aside from a growing appreciation for high-quality fragrances and linens. “Take it,” he urged, gesturing for her to hold out her hands.

Rhoswen sat up, stretching her arms over her head for good measure before reaching out to take whatever it was he kept so well-hidden. Before him, she had never been one for gifts; she could name every one she’d ever received on one hand, and still have a few fingers left over. But now they were a regular occurrence, and she was inclined to take whatever he offered on these frequent romps of theirs. Had she not known better, she might have feared herself a kept woman. But Carvallain was the sort of man who shared his affections through material means, rather than sweet nothings or pet names. It was as though he knew there were things he could not offer freely, and sought to fill the gaps with all manner of trinkets from lands she’d likely never see in her lifetime.

Into her hand he dropped a tiny box, blue paper and red ribbon, nondescript beyond the fact that it had seemingly appeared from nowhere. She had not noticed it sitting out when she arrived, though her attention had admittedly been captured by the sight of him waiting for her.

“What’s the occasion?” she laughed, trying to downplay her growing anxiety at the sight of so tiny a box. It fit perfectly in the palm of her hand, small enough to warrant concern but almost too large to be the thing she most dreaded to see: a ring. Their current arrangement was fun. It was comfortable. The last thing she wanted was to see it go down in flames thanks to some misguided sense of propriety, or worse— duty.

“Must there be an occasion?” he replied in the same tone, any humor underlined by something too close to nervousness for comfort. “Most women enjoyed being lavished upon, you know.”

“Most women wouldn’t see through yer game.” Sometimes it was far easier to fall back on their tried and true banter. She turned the box over in her hands, appraising it without any attempt to discern its contents. “Ply me with wine n’ sex, then catch me unawares.”

“Am I that obvious?” His answering smile was strained. “Perhaps I was merely waiting until you were in the best possible mood to accept my little cadeau.”

“Is there any reason I wouldn’tbe in a good mood?” She dangled the box by the ribbon the same way he had. “Best tell me now, afore I see it myself.”

“It is only that—” He patted his thighs absently, lower lip caught between his teeth as he thought. “Sometimes your mouth moves faster than your ears, my dear. All I ask is the chance to explain, should you find my little gift… startling.”

“Explain what?” Carvallain did not answer, staring intently as he waited for her to make a move. It was a look he often wore during games of Meracydian chess, when the stakes were highest and he felt cornered. She slid her legs beneath the coverlet, feeling more naked than she ever had in her nameday suit. Her eyes darted to where her clothes lay, tossed casually across the round dining table. Part of her wanted to scramble across the bed and snatch them up, if only to feel a little more secure in her skin. But it would be silly to show that sort of weakness, especially for something as paltry as a gift.

“Aren’t you going to open it?”

“Don’t rush me,” she muttered, fishing about beneath the coverlet for her smallclothes. Her toes caught the corner of his silk blouse and she cut her losses, yanking it from its hiding place and slipping it over her shoulders. The fabric billowed at her elbows, sagging down around her lithe frame a good three sizes too big, but it was still better than nothing. Tucking it comfortably around her hips, she again turned her attentions to the box, swallowing back her trepidation.

In all honesty, she wasn’t entirely sure when her—surely unfounded—fears had taken root. Their relationship was not exactly casual, but neither was it to the point that she’d happily throw caution to the wind and follow him to that blasted temple in the Twelveswood. Seven years, give or take a few tumultuous moons of confusion and ale-addled lust, but they’d never felt the need to put a name to what they were doing.

That in itself was common enough in Limsa Lominsa. Pirates didn’t marry one another to live happily ever after. If nothing else, they might eventually commit themselves to a single companion for a number of years, until one of them inevitably found their way to the Navigator’s bosom. A pirate courtship could be romantic, in its own way, and sometimes even soft or affectionate… but never fairytale. Never domestic. Those fantasies were better suited for naïve young lasses who dream of knights on white chocobos— something she had not been for many, many years.

This is ridiculous. There was no reason to drag out the inevitable, after all. Rhoswen gingerly untied the ribbon, sliding open the box and pushing aside the tissue paper before peering cautiously at what lay within. A moment later her head snapped up, eyes narrowed.

“What the—?! Ye told me ye lost the damn thing!” For nearly a fortnight, his left ear had been oddly bare, bereft of its usual silver adornments. For as long as she’d known him, he’d only ever removed his ear clasps when bathing; he even wore them to bed, citing them to be “too important” to leave lying around. Despite this, he had seemed strangely unperturbed when one came up missing, shrugging away her questions and brushing off any attempts to help him locate the misplaced clasp. Now it had resurfaced, nestled neatly in the translucent paper.

“Is this some sort o’ joke? Ye know I can’t wear it.” Scowling, she picked up the clasp and turned it so that the silver gleamed in the candlelight. It seemed as though she’d never tire of admiring the beautiful scrollwork, so tiny and delicate that it seemed wrought by fae hands and not a master smith. “All ye had to do was say ye found it…” she trailed off, puzzled. “Is it me, or is it…  smaller? Here, let me see the other.”

“I had it fitted for your ear. Open the—” Before he could finish, her curious fingers uncovered a hidden hinge. The clasp fell apart in her hands, revealing itself to be a clasp no longer, but an earring fit for smaller, rounded ears. Ears like a Hyur’s. Rhoswen stared down at it, her thoughts too tangled to sort out into proper questions. Finally she dared to look up, cursing the way her lips trembled as she spoke.

“What kind o’— Why would ye— Seven hells!” An icy hand gripped her heart, squeezing for all it was worth. “If this is some sort o’ swivvin’ proposal, I’m about to stick my foot straight up yer—”

“No! Gods, no!” He reached for her, seeming to rethink it at the last moment and letting his hand fall to the mattress instead. “See? This is what I meant; if you would just give me a moment to explain myself—”

“Ye got thirty seconds afore I march right out o’ this room, bare-arsed n’ all!”  

“It’s not always romantic!” Carvallain snapped, looking both ashamed and obstinate. “They’re simply a symbol of… of…” His hands worked in midair, trying to grasp the words that would not come. “There are many different meanings. The first is traditionally a symbol of maturity. The exact reasoning varies between cultures. In Ishgard, a mother gifts her child the first clasp on the eve of their Confirmation, and the father gifts the other when they are fully grown.”

“N’ when one person giftstheirs to someone else? What’s it mean then?”

“I suppose the closest word would be devotion—which is not the same as romance!” he added, seeing her lips part in protest. “It can be any number of things: filiality, fidelity, camaraderie…. When a knight falls in battle, their brother in arms might choose to wear one as a physical reminder of the bond they shared. Close siblings might choose to trade if one of them is going on a long journey. Best friends who make a pact, or a bereaved spouse wanting a keepsake, or… any number of occasions, truly. Wherever you go, be it to another continent or another life, you’re carrying a piece of them with you.”

“But it can be romantic.”

“Yes,” he groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “it can sometimes be romantic. Within the confines of courtship it is often used to promote… exclusivity.”

“Aha!”   

“But that was not necessarily my intention!”

“N’ just what, pray tell, did ye intend by it?” He pressed his lips into a thin line, fingers twisting together in his lap. It was a rare sight indeed, the confident and cavalier Carvallain unsure of himself. There was power to be had in that, and perhaps she might have taken advantage of it, had she not also felt as though the proverbial rug was about to be pulled out from under her feet at any moment.

“Whether or not you choose to wear it is, in the end, up to you. But if you… choose… then know it to be a symbol of my— of my l—” His tongue tripped over the word, breath hitching as it caught in his throat. “My regard,” he managed to choke out, hands balled into fists. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Tch.” It had been several years since she’d last worn earrings. She winced as the refitted clasp jabbed through the skin where the hole ought to be. The hinges separating the two sides closed over the bottom of her left earlobe with a soft click of metal. Twisting around, she viewed herself in the round mirror he kept on his desk; with the two halves in place, it looked as though she wore an identical version of the clasp on his right ear.

Ever so gently, he turned her head so that he could take a look for himself. He traced the shell of her ear with one cautious fingertip before averting his eyes the moment his own seemed near to overflowing.

“Oh, none o’ that, now,” she murmured, pulling him back until he had no choice but to face her once more. “Ye can’t go barin’ yer ‘eart like that n’ not expect me to take a peek.” He scoffed, though there was no real heat in the sound. “I got nothin’ for ye in return.”

“You don’t need….” His thumb traced over the silver slowly, back and forth. “Seeing you wear it is enough for me.” He leaned forward, bumping his forehead lightly against hers, noses brushing before he caught her up in his arms. She squeaked out a startled breath as he pulled her flush to his chest, burying his face in the join of her neck and shoulder. “I can hear your heart racing,” he sighed, the words muffled against her skin.

“I can feel yers racin’, too.” The clasp was heavy on her ear, but it was a welcome weight. A piece of him… wherever I go. She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her cheek against his skull and breathing in the soft, perfumed strands of hair. “So, does this mean we’re exclusivenow?”

“We’ve been exclusive for some time now, I should think… unless there’s a rival you haven’t warned me about.”     

“I do like to keep me options open.” She grinned. “Still, can’t say I have many offers these days. No market for ol’ crones, I reckon.”

“You’re beautiful.” Pulling back, he looked down at her with a smile, eyes shining with everything he couldn’t—wouldn’t—say. “My lovely harpy.” Regard my arse.

“That’s right,” she beamed, combing her fingers through his hair. “Yer harpy… claws n’ all.” As she spoke she ruffled his bangs aggressively, cackling as the fiery strands stood out in all directions. Carvallain jerked back with a vain cry, letting go of her in an attempt to salvage the remnants of his coiffed style.

“You damnable—!” Tongue working in his cheek, he launched himself over the bed at her. “You’ll pay for that!”

“Will I?” Still laughing, she let herself be pinned to the mattress. “Careful! Won’t be no fault o’ mine if this puffy shirt o’ yers gets ripped t’ shreds.”

“It’s never your fault, is it?” He regarded her sullenly. With his hair still askew and a pout twisting his features, he looked more like a petulant firstborn than an angry lover. She shrugged, as well as she could manage with her hands pinned over her head, laughing again when he groaned in defeat. “My tormentor, more like.” Nevertheless he bent his head, feathering kisses over her forehead and cheeks.

“Who’s the tormentor now?” she muttered when he refused to meet her lips, lightly kissing her jaw, her chin, her nose before finally obliging with a smirk. “Bastard.” He’s no knight, but I suppose a privateer on a regular chocobo’s probably the best I’ll manage… not that I’m complaining.  

“Your bastard.”

“… Aye.”

[wttcsms]

sorry if you're not comfortable answering this, but I saw you say that you've been diagnosed with depression. how did you know when to seek help?

tl;dr: from a young age, i never lived a healthy lifestyle with an easy pace. i (and maybe even my family) put too much pressure on me, and i never really coped with it in a healthy manner. my attempt at handling things "with ease" and "not stressing" was actually just me bottling up my emotions, and it's not until things started getting really bad that i finally sought help.

nothing uncomfy abt it at all! discussion of mental health is pretty important! tbh, i never thought i would have depression or be diagnosed with it; i started showing symptoms for around a year before i started really thinking to myself, hey, i think there might be something up with me mentally and this isn't just some silly, quirky thing i'm going through. ever since i was around 18, i went through great lengths to ensure i would achieve maximum academic success but while being a full-time college student and consistently working 60+ hours a week (70+ during the summer bc my junior year internship was so intense; i also went to college 2 years early, so i think that's when the internal pressure to "do well in life" began) was taking a massive toll on me mentally and physically. i would survive off of 4-5 hours of sleep, consume concerning amounts of caffeine, i was losing hair, i was losing drastic amounts of weight, i was breaking out and breaking down, and even when i got better, i still wasn't fully ever healed from that experience purely bc my schedule just never slowed down.

i am still a full-time student, i am still working 7 days a week, leading to 60+ hours (40 hours internship, 20 hours at my weekend part-time job). on top of that, i am in the second to last semester of my grad school, i help out around the house bc after my older sister moved out, i took over the eldest daughter duties, i am still holding myself to a very high standard academically (already planning to apply to phd programs, studying for the cpa exam, already have another summer internship lined up). i knew things were getting bad because 1) i am finally older (im abt to turn 21! yay!) and i realized that the lifestyle i'm living isn't healthy and 2) a lot of my behaviors didn't feel "normal" to me anymore. it finally hit me around two months ago, when i realized that i sort of lost my love for fanfiction. i've been in a weird mood where i didn't want to read any fanfic whatsoever, but i chalked it up to being "too busy" and focused on other things. when i couldn't even find the energy to read my own mutual's fanfic, i knew something was up bc i always try to power through and remain enthusiastic on my friends' behalf. more behaviors that were a cause for concern:

my disinterest in everything that brought me joy previously. sweet treats at the end of the day, coffee before work, buying makeup from sephora, cleaning my room (sounds silly, but i love having a clean living space and cleaning my room used to be a source of peace and joy for me), writing fanfiction, reading books, watching youtube videos, catching up on shows that would release weekly and that i used to count down the days to watch — none of it held my interest. i wasn't excited, i didn't care.

it wasn't just a lack of joy from things i loved, either. rejections from programs i looked forward to/rejections from opportunities, abysmal grades in class, looming deadlines that i most likely wouldn't make, growing assignments on my work to-do list; none of this elicited a reaction from me. there was no stress (that i was feeling; subconsciously, i think the stress was still there and i just refused to acknowledge it), but there also wasn't disappointment or sadness. i had no emotional response to anything, and that was very concerning to me, and the main reason i contacted my sister and then her boyfriend (who is a licensed psychiatrist)

i could sleep for 12+ hours a day. there are many days in the week where all i want to do is rot in bed. not even in a "go on my phone and dick around in bed" type of way, either. i would have certain days where i couldn't leave the bed. sometimes, i wouldn't even feel tired, but i would just sleep. my internship is wfh and if it was a slow day with no assignments, i would clock in and spend that whole day in my bed, sleeping. it got to the point where i wish work was busy so i would have something to force me out of bed. yes, i would be aware of my tiredness sometimes, but this felt different altogether. i just wanted to basically hibernate lol.

i had constant headaches. i thought it was because of the nature of my job, where i look at computer screens all day, or maybe it was bc i wasn't drinking enough water. i would also get unexplainable cramps sometimes.

tmi, but little to no pleasure and an extreme decline in interest in sex

i had extreme issues with focusing on work and studying; a lot of my work (and school materials) centers around thinking through problems and applying tax law or guidance to certain situations.

my diet fluctuated; some days, i wouldn't want to eat, yesterday, i gorged myself on food, eating to the point where even i had to pause and go wtf.

not very often was i randomly sad, nor did i ever want to kill myself or self-harm; when i was a teenager (17/18) and probably showing signs of depression, i was very irritable, angry, sad, and had suicidal thoughts, thought i was worthless, an idiot, etc. however, i mostly just feel empty and apathetic during my episodes now.

what helped me seek help was knowing that my behaviors and how i was feeling didn't feel healthy, but also, my best friend recently shared her diagnosis with me and i would have never thought she would be depressed. my sister's bf was also a major help in getting me comfortable to consider the possibility of having a mental illness and also in finding someone to talk to. hope this helps!

edit: forgot to mention it, but i exhibited many/all of those symptoms for around the past 3 months before ever seeking help. those behaviors started manifesting tremendously and seriously disrupting my daily life, and i knew i needed to do something to get my life back on track.

[lemonthepotato]

Songs I associate with each Enneagram type (but I’m bad at typing):

One:

I don’t think I can say this

Carnivore - STARSET

Finders Keepers - Riproducer

World So Cold - 12 Stones

Alright, you ones have been getting too many unironic entries. Time for mockery.

World Around Me - Escape The Fate

Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing - Set It Off (Accidentally chose the acoustic version) (me momen)

Rock Bottom - Grandson

Molly - MSI

Oh No! - MARINA (I know I’m shit at typing but how is ‘Don’t need money, don’t need fame’ 3?? PDB is wilding)

Sorry if I put this elsewhere, but Hope Of Morning by Icon For Hire. I originally took this as a 5, 6 or 9 song when analysing it, but I had an epiphany; it’s 1 coded. Let me explain. (“My mind’s a kaleidoscope, it thinks too fast, blurs all the colours til I can’t see past, last mistake, the choice I made, staring in the mirror with only myself to blame.” Black and white thinking, self-hatred. “Sometimes I’m afraid of the thoughts inside, nowhere to hide inside my mind. I’m scared that you’ll compare and I’ll look like a lifetime past repair.” High standards, worries about being a bad person. “Self-disgust and selfishness tend to hold me awfully close, but I don’t want my friends to see that, I don’t want my friends to know.”) (I’m on the fence about this typing) (I feel like I might be trying to type every song I can, which isn’t how this works. While I Will Not Bow by Breaking Benjamin seems 853ish to me, like, I don’t associate it strongly with 8, so it doesn’t belong in this list. Same with a lot of other songs.)

Two:

Where Has Everyone Gone? - James Marriott

It Should’ve Been Me - Riproducer (“But I’m unsure of my intent. Surely my fragile hospitality would shatter under the stress.”)

Painkiller - Three Days Grace (I know it’s a fucking metaphor, before any smartahs try to correct me.)

You know I have so few 2 songs when I have to resort to Helluva Boss fansongs that are maybe semi-official now

UwU Song - Rikutzu (Idk I don’t have any 2sungs)

This song is sx2 core. (UM HELP??? I put the wrong song here, but I have no idea what the one I meant to put here was. THIS IS SUCH A FUNNY MISTAKE THO)

Sticks and Stones - The Pierces (sx2) (“I’m the one you want.” “But you get scared when we’re alone, like I might suck your blood.” “Love me more than anyone.” “Can’t undo my spell on you.”)

Jericho - Celldweller (this is such a so2 song, and let me explain!) (“self-importance amplified.” “you’re looking down, and feeling so profound. you’re so impressed by your false humility.” “an unhappy ending to your sense of deity.” “you’re so oblivious to your own frailty.” “an unhappy ending to the life you’ve glorified”)

Three:

Witness - Mindless Self Indulgence (relate as a disintegrated 6 tbh)

Copycat - Circus P (“I say everything you like to hear… I can’t remember who I am… I’ve become what you like”)

Why Not Me? - Set It Off

Good Enough - atsuover (“Why would I continue being me, when better people are all I see?… put on your mask and get up on your on your way, they love you anyway”) (suppose this could also be 1)

Scary World - Night Club (ooo3 ooo3 ooo3) (edit: not sure if I’d type this as a 3 or 4 song?)

You’re Dead - Norma Tanega (“Plan all your moves in advance.” “There’s too much work to be done.” “Don’t ever talk with your eyes, be sure that you compromise.” “You’ve sold out your dream to the world.”)

Theatre - Icon For Hire (“I’m getting pretty good at feeding them the lines they like, but I don’t recognise the girl that I see each night.”) (6 fix btw) (I’m just using this as an excuse because I keep neglecting the 3’s)

EVERYTHING - LuluYam (“I wanna be everybody’s dream.” “I want to be everything.” “A king, a lord, an emperor, a god. A fake, a fraud, a phony, oh my god. Don’t crack through my facade. Don’t crack through my facade!)

Fake it - Seether (“Who’s to know if your soul will fade at all? The one that you sold to fool the world.”) (“Fake it if you’re out of direction, fake it if you don’t belong here. Fake it if you feel like infection.”)

Pretty For You - Baby Bugs (okay, this could be 2 or 9 too, but it’s kinda sx3 for me, imo)

Ghost rule - DECO27 (Not putting lyrics up, I don’t speak Japanese and am relying on rough translations)

Insecurity - Girls Love Shoes (This song is SOOOO 3 core) (“What are they thinking of me?” “I just want to stand out, I just want to fit in” > w4.)

Four:

Happy Hurts - Icon For Hire (“Can we let the pain and happy mix?… If I had to pick between the way that I am, and the way that everyone else seems to pretend, I wouldn’t question it, not even for a second”)

Identity - Grandson

Skeleton - Set It Off

Get Well II - Icon For Hire

Sugar And Spice - Icon For Hire (“Wouldn’t you rather be broken than boring too?” Seriously, such a 4 song.)

Feel Better - Penelope Scott (“I don’t wanna feel better, no one’s ever gonna love me like that again… I don’t wanna get over it, I wanna get under it instead.”)

Pyrite Girl - Riproducer

Hurt - Get Scared (“How do you think I’m alright? And I like the way you hurt inside.”)

I Can Only Be Me - Mars Argo (“Try to take my identity, and I’ll just create a new one.”)

Only Be A Story - Icon For Hire (core fear)

4w5 moment (no I’ve never played Touhou)

Iodine - Icon For Hire (“I think I’m just in love with the feeling” “Crazy is I believe the medical term, for when we wanna recover, but don’t wanna learn.” “I say I wanna be happy, but I quickly forget. Will I sabotage all the good I’ve got left? Depression’s like a big fur coat, it’s made of dead things, but it keeps me warm.”) (9 fix btw)

4w3!!

Won’t Forget - Dabu

Pretend You Love Me - Baby Bugs (“And sometimes I wonder if I didn’t hurt so bad, would I be more lovable to my mom and my dad? And if I went back in time to see six year old me, I’d say this shit does not get better, this is who you’re meant to be and I’m a monster, so you say, and I do this on purpose anyway. I need to feel this pain.”)

Devastation And Reform - Relient K (Disintegration to 1) (“I feel like I was born, for devastation and reform. Destroy everything I love and the worst part is, I pull my heart out, reconstruct, but in the end it’s nothing but a shell of what I had when I first started.” “But they’re’d be no story, without all this dissension. So I inflict the conflict, with the utmost of attention.”)

L’assasymphonie (from MLOR) (For the same reason as Ghost Rule, I won’t put the lyrics up)

The Abandoned Castle Of My Soul - The Gothic Archie’s. Do I need to explain this? Lol

Pain - Three Days Grace.

Five:

Lateralus - TOOL (“Overthinking, overanalysing, separates the body from the mind.”)

Dream Your Dream - TryHardNinja (Ok look, I know there’s a type probably more suited for this song but I’ve been neglecting the fives.)

The Sun, The Moon, The Stars - Aether Realm (I have no justification for this)

Echo - CrusherP

Anonymous - Three Days Grace

Jail Time - Chloe Adams (“Jail time, living in my head.” 5w4 core.)

Hounds - Puma Blue

The Fool - Aether Realm (no idea what this songs actually meant to say but considering it’s called ‘the fool’ referring to the fools journey and mentions knowledge like 2ce it’s 5core.)

The Grudge - TOOL

Am I Supposed To Apologise? - Maria Mena (“I sought understanding clarity and truth, by baring all the wounds inflicted on my youth.” Literally 5w4. Maybe 4w5. In case it isn’t obvious, I’m pretty bad at typing songs.)

Can’t Get Out - Dabu

5 with a 4 fix. Yeah I didn’t say all these entries would be serious.

Breakdown - Lacuna Coil (“Shutting myself off, getting numb inside.” “I can’t stand the noise outside.” “Even if you think I’m fine, I’m still damaged, I stay out of sight.”)

Mind Is A Prison - Alec Benjamin (I’m at the 100 link limit) (“Sometimes I think too much.” “I’m always stuck in my head.” “Guess my mind is a prison, and I’m never gonna get out.”)

Everybody’s Watching Me - The Neighbourhood (“Uh, oh, where can I go? Everybody’s watching me.” “I go through all the trouble of keeping it within my walls. I try to be as subtle as I can. Assume that nothing needs me, all I’ve done defeats me.”)

Feels Like A Wish - Station K (sx5) (“You made my dreams come true.” “Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, from my mind. How can I escape, from this irresistible place?”)

People Watching - Air Traffic Controller (I originally typed this as a 9 song, but it’s soooo 5.) (“Hiding in secret from us all? Who can you trust, who will you call?” “You see the world while locked inside.”) (heavily 9 fixed with a slight 4 fix, too)

Imaginary - Evanescence. I called this the “most 9 song ever.” Yeah, uh, no, it’s the most 5 song ever.

Six:

Nightmare - Set It Off (“And all I know is that I don’t feel safe… but am I losing my mind?”)

Curse Or Cure - Icon For Hire (“Oh I swear my emotions are the enemy… I’m afraid I can’t trust myself, don’t leave me alone”)

Killer In The Mirro - Set It Off (“Never let your guard down… cause I know if you could switch this, you’d be dishing out the same shit… now I know, there’s no one I can trust.”)

I’m Made Of Wax Larry, What Are You Made Of? - A Day To Remember (“Everybody’s out to get me”; yep that’s my entire justification)

Misguided Ghosts - Paramore (“See I’m tryna find my place, and it might not be here where I feel safe… would someone care to classify our broken hearts and twisted minds so I can find someone to rely on, and run to them?”

Fear And Loathing - MARINA (Congratulations, if you’ve ever put this song in your vent playlist, you’re a 6 or 6 fix. :))

Culling Voices - TOOL (“Disembodied voices deepen my suspicious tendencies. Conversations we’ve never had; imagined interplay… heated altercations we never had, yet I’m guided by them all…. misleading me over and over. Judge, condemn and banish anyone and everyone, without evidence, only the whispers from within.” E6 blueprint.

Hearts A Mess - Gotye (6 blueprint. Actually 5 too.)

Beneath Me - Lucid Planet

JUST FORGET THIS IS A Y’KNOW SONG PLZ

I was gonna type this as 1, initially, but it’s more 6core

Paranoia - A Day To Remember (it’s literally called paranoia like-)

The World Is A Very Scary Place - The Gothic Archie’s (this could also be 5)

Diseased - Baby Bugs (4 fix go brrrr haha)

In Between - James Marriott (“It’s out of the question, it’s over the line, to not be phased, to just be fine.” “How nice it sounds to have your guard down and nothing in between.”) (694 tritype because this is the most 9-ish 6 song ever.)

Pretend - Ursa Major (“My mother said don’t feed the strays, they’ll break your heart and run away.” “What if I second guess again? And listen to the worries in my head?” “You promised me you wouldn’t leave, and boy was I naive, I should’ve never let you in my yard.”)

A sp6 and an unhealthy so2 walk into a bar.

Wired For Worthless - Citizen Soldier (“Pull you in, push you away.” “A brain built by every memory, of times I was not enough to make the ones I love wanna stay.” “Love is a lie, hope is a hole, trust is the trap that took my soul. Family is fake, hatred is home, getting abandoned is all I know.” “A brain built by every memory of times I was vulnerable in vain, which just proved that I’m never worth the pain.)

Dizzy Paranoia Girl - VocaloKAT (so613) (“Expectations high from the start, I’ll just mess it up. Congratulations, you fell apart, f- I messed it up.” “Thoughts racing up and down, oh what to do now? Follow protocol.” “Panic all around, but never make a sound.”) (lol when this song came out I kinda forgot it cuz I couldn’t make the lyrics out, until today when I remembered it existed)

Seven:

Killing Harmony - Mcki Robyn’s P (I first listened to this song with no context. If you try to do the same, you’ll understand.)

Sugar Crash - ElyOtto

Using You - Mars Argo (ok some people are saying this is a 2 mistype and maybe but idk it gives 7 vibes.)

Ruin My Life - Hollywood Undead (I love stereotyping)

We Are One - 12 Stones

Borderline - Toke Styrke

Happy Pills - Weathers (Come on. I’m allowed to stereotype a little.)

7w8 731 moment

Weak And Powerless - A Perfect Circle (I’m not trying to stereotype, I’m just saying this song captures the ego-structure of an E7 trying to escape their shame over addiction through more addiction.) (You might say E8, however, the whole coping mechanism of E8 is denial. I don’t think an E8 would identify with being weak or oppressed, but that’s a generalisation)

Anytime You Smile - JT Music (We Happy Few is 7 coded anyway lol) (“A little rain and clouds will never bring me down.” “I know we’ll get through it.” “Believe me, if I’m dreaming, I wanna keep on sleeping.” “I don’t quite like myself when my head’s not in the clouds.”) (I unironically love this song tho and idk why, cuz it’s the type of song I would hate regularly lol. Maybe it’s the fact it’s… not ironic? Tongue-in-cheek? You’ll understand my point if you know the plot of WHF.)

No One Can Tell Me - Girls Love Shoes (I originally read this as an 8 song, but I see this as a clear 7 song)

Eight:

Loose Cannon - Set It Off (Yeah this is almost entirely stereotypes. Don’t really care though.)

I Didn’t Ask For This - Beth Crowley (I wanted to type this as counter 6 but I knew I’d just be bias cuz I’m a… probable SX6.) (I don’t believe in subtypes anymore) (no I won’t elaborate lol)

Catch Me If You Can - Set It Off

Power & Control - MARINA (except maybe the line about vulnerability but PDB thinks so so it must be right! Man, I love having outside unreliable sources confirm my beliefs! Call me Fox News.)

Discord - Eurobeat Brony (fear being controlled) (8w9 ish due to wanting peace) (an excuse for me to tell you the ORIGINAL song is better.)

White Rabbit - Egypt Central (“I will not be used.” “It’s the reason I chose to cut my losses. Your lies fool no one.” “We’re falling and we’re losing control.” “I won’t be pushed aside, I will be heard. I will get what I want, what I deserve.)

SAHARA - Ivycomb (“Lost in this desert and I’m looking for freedom.” “On my own, I’ll make it.” “I’ll take it by fighting the coldness inside.” “There’s no one to call my friend, but the burden’s feeling lighter without their things.” “But I quickly take my leave and I refuse the aid.” “No one can hurt me if I’m walking all alone. They can’t desert me if I’ve already turned to stone.”)

K All The Enemies - Mario Judah. (“Bring the rage. I will not let you control me, I will not let you betray me.” “Ignite the fire in me, I will not furthermore be controlled.”) (also, 6 fix.)

FACE IT - NOTHING MORE (“Shed this doubt, stand your ground.” “A man is born, and the boy has died, face it.” “You’ll never get to me.” “I’m on my own, silencing the angels in the better part of you.” “I am your gut, I am the truth. I am the power in you.” “Gotta face this on my own.”)

Nine:

Reflection - TOOL

IN MY MOUTH. Really, you should’ve seen this coming.

:) you know exactly why

My Demons - STARSET

Circles - KIRA (“Circles and circles, I look around, I go around, looking for something that cannot be found.”)

This song also describes the 3-5 years I didn’t leave the house and couldn’t even get up. Huh? Oh, that’s a… joke. Haha… (“I don’t want to know what’s waiting for me outside. I’ll make myself disappear. Tell me I should face my fears, but it’s so dark and cloudy in my room. I’m a sunflower who can’t bloom.”)

Still Here - Difitial Daggers (10/10 spelling) (Amazing)

Begin Again - Dabu

Cemetery Blues - LuLuYam (“Why does everybody else seem to know me better than I do?” “Don’t want no damn special attention.” “The way I see it, why do I try at all? Maybe I don’t need to. Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I’m dramatic and I can’t make up my mind.” “Try to be an optimist and I don’t wanna lose.” “Just another spectre in the graveyard.” “Cause the mask that I’m wearing is a safeguard, and the face underneath is holding back hard.”)

All The Fish Will Be Floating - Rusty Cage (“Apathy is a dangerous tool. Too much of empathy will make you a fool. Apathy blinds your eyes from everything.” “And I ain’t choosing no more, and I ain’t losing no more, and I ain’t winning no more. And I ain’t sinning anymore. Ain’t doing nothing anymore. I ain’t nothing no more.”)

Language Of The Lost - Riproducer (I literally can’t quote the lyrics rn because genius is lagging)

Spanish Sahara - Foals (I have to explain this one. “So I walked into a haze.” >The E9s forget about self. “Forget the horror here.” >escapism, a common E9 coping mechanism “I’m the fury in your head. I’m the ghost in the back of your head.” >again, loss of self, but also repressed anger. “A choir of furies in your head.”)

Don’t worry, I get accused of having shit taste all the time. I know what you’re thinking.

No I’m excluding the Enneagram album because I don’t like it. Uh… kinda blunt. :( I just don’t know how else to say it.

If you want to listen to any of my playlists: 1, 2, 3, 4

Edit: Making a new version

Edit 2: I might just update this one

Edit: didn’t include it, but whoever typed Bullet by HU as sx4 when it’s the most obvious depressed 7?? Also, hey, what would y’all type Darkest Part by Red? It fits a so3 character of mine, but I actually have no clue.

[obstinatecondolement]

Having kind of a post-NaNoWriMo dip in mood re: the fic groove I have been in tbh. (mental illness and insecurity bullshit, mensturation mention cw)

I do still feel Very Strongly about the ideas I have and I do want to write them/continue working on them in the case of the two WIPs I started this week, but without the external structure of the event it's harder to thinking about sustaining that, especially given that I was making so many glaring mistakes that I feel looked very amateurish (I know it's an amateur hobby, but whatever, I expect very ridiculously high standards of myself in almost everything that I would never hold anyone else to and it's always crushing when I inevitably fail to meet them, lol).

The things I was getting wrong were mostly basic spelling errors, using the wrong word in common phrases that turned things into the uncanny valley of that phrase that didn't not make sense but weren't how anyone would say that particular thing naturally, accidentally flipping word order (or not rephrasing the rest of a sentence properly after copying and pasting things around, etc.), and just, like ... random gibberish typos that only became obvious to me after I posted, despite trying really hard to self edit myself carefully.

It's very difficult for me to have the focus to be able to do that sort of detail oriented task when things are in fast-brain mode. And, like, attention to detail is something I am typically very good at, so it's deeply embarrassing to me, especially in a new fandom where I'm creating a first impression.

And like, more generally I also feel like the shine has kind of gone off me and, I know that this is just my literal mental illness distorting my perception of Everything, but it feels like the fandom is already kind of over me because I'm too much. This is all very much a me problem and I don't think it's true or that anyone has treated me badly or done anything that would reasonably create this impression to a person who was not Going Through It (hence the read-more and, like, also: if you are a recent Ghosts follower you have done nothing wrong and have been nothing but nice to me and I don't want you to reassure me*, I'm just insane and I need to get a grip/have serious mental health issues and need to be better at distress tolerance and not being so insecure in how I'm perceived and prone to assuming that people are sick of me.

But, anyway, I think that part of this is just like... also pretty normal? Hypomanic episodes can last up to months, but usually they do fizzle out much sooner than that for most people most of the time, so I think that I just have kind of run out of steam and now I'm going low again having been pretty high for a sustained two-ish weeks and the very obvious external end of the line signal given by NaNo ending has kind of naturally triggered that downturn.

And I am like, speaking pretty approximately here? I think I probably have mixed episodes more than pure hypomanic episodes, for the most part? But, yeah, I don't know. I think the rollercoaster is coming out of a corkscrew and it's just going down now. Which, you know, does suck but it also won't last forever, so that is some comfort. I also still think I might be premenstrual, which does fuck with my head a lot, so, y'know. TL;DR, I'll be fine, but I am having a hard time. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

*Like, genuinely, please don't. This is a Me problem and I think it would be bad both for me and for my relationships with others if I were to make the people around me feel that they had to constantly protect my feelings by showering me with attention and reassurance, or whatever. And also, like, I'd feel Very Bad if I thought other people felt guilted into doing that because I made a vent post about my irrational feelings that I know full well on an intellectual level are not reflecting an objective reality, because other people do not deserve to feel personally responsible for the bullshit my brain pulls on me.

[tildeathiwillwrite]

💥- What does your writing schedule look like?

👽- What do you think is the weirdest thing about your WIP is?

📱- Are you planning on publishing? How and where? Are you trying to monetize your writing?

(in response to this ask game)

💥- What does your writing schedule look like?

Whenever I can sit down and type the words for the scene I've been rotating in my head like a rotisserie chicken since the last time I sat down and wrote. I tend to be the most productive writing-wise between the hours of 10 and 11 pm.

👽- What do you think is the weirdest thing about your WIP is?

Hell if I know what the weirdest thing across all four WIPs is. Weird is subjective.

📱- Are you planning on publishing? How and where? Are you trying to monetize your writing?

I might consider it eventually, right now I'm just writing for fun and I don't want to put that extra pressure on myself to make the novel "perfect" enough to publish. (Though to be honest there are some pretty shitty books that have gotten published so maybe I'm holding myself to too high a standard)

I would probably self publish (after hiring an editor, of course).

Not currently. I wouldn't be in it for the money anyway, that's what my day job is for.