#considering I'm more of a slow and steady type these days

[anderstrevelyan]

Three days left in (mini) nanowrimo and I've written more in a month than I ever have

!!!!

[icewindandboringhorror]

finally finished all of one character's entire quests/optional dialogue/questions/etc.... 100,000 words... .... aughhh

[plush-rabbit]

Coffee and Fated Tragedies

Something cute about The Spot or something, but like before he became The Spot. Maybe I'll do something about him and his holes later

Word Count: 5K

A/N: I need him, like carnally. There’s like nothing about him and I need to get this off my chest before I like combust so¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-

You stand near a water cooler, watching the bubbles float to the top. Your cup has been empty for the past minute, and you consider taking the rest of your break outside. The fluorescent lights are making it difficult to stay awake, and the sterile air at Alchemax is burning your eyes. 

With a sigh, you reason to yourself that the short trip to the parking lot would waste the remainder of your break, and you’d have to walk back to your desk by the time you even stepped near the doors. You turn your head, and watch as a scientist turns the corner, taking slow and careful steps to make sure the obnoxious amount of files that he’s holding doesn’t tip over.

He slows down enough, taking a pause next to the water cooler, and with a peek around the files he spots you looking at the files with wide eyes. There’s a certain look in his eyes that has your neck burning.

“Um-” you clear your throat, placing the empty cup of water in the trash- “do you need any help?” 

His eyes scan you, giving you a quick run down, suspicion twisted into his features. “It’s fine- I'm fine,” he snaps, holding the file just a bit tighter, almost defensively. And as if the world were against him, the top half of the stack nearly spills over, before you hold onto it, steadying the stack once more. The tips of his ears flush into a deep hue of red, and you smile at him nervously. 

“I’m on my break,” you tell him. “It wouldn’t be a bother. Plus, I’m sure you would much prefer for the files to be in order rather than all er- out of order,” you reason. 

His eyes dart around the room, before finally letting out a sigh. “If you wouldn’t mind, then yes. I’d appreciate the help,” he says slowly, as if still can’t believe that he’s allowing someone else to hold such important paperwork. “Please and thank you,” he mumbles.

You smile, nodding your head, quickly grabbing halfway through the stack and holding it firmly in your hands. Having the files fall after offering assistance is the last thing that you need- especially after the scientist had such a tone in his voice.

Words stay stuck in your throat as you follow behind him without a sound. You’re sure you should be talking to him, but he isn't making conversation either. Plus, you aren’t entirely sure what you would talk to him about. The weather? You only felt it when you clocked in in the morning. Lunch? No, you’ve heard around that most scientists don’t even take their lunch these days- too busy with whatever has been going on these days. Your mouth pulls into a thin line. Truth be told, you want to ask about the files- you’re positive that it has something to do with whatever has ad the building in such a buzz. But you doubt he’d even tell you. 

“I apologize for making you waste your break on this,” he mumbles, giving you a quick glance over his shoulder. He makes eye contact with you briefly before he looks forward once again.

“Huh? Oh! That’s fine. It’s no worries, really. I was the one who offered after all,” you say hurriedly. He huffs and silence befalls the both of you once more, but you’re much too eager now after his words. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but where are we delivering them to?”

“Dr. Octavius’s office. She said that she needs to review the recent ana-” he stops short and he straightens his back, clearing his throat- “experiment.”

“Oh,” you say. You don’t have the luxury of knowing the inner workings, and a part of you wishes that you did. You always were a bit of the nosey type. “Are you part of those experiments as well, um- I’m sorry I don’t believe that I asked for your name.”

“Johnathan. Ohnn. Dr. Ohnn,” he says, stumbling over his words.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Dr. Ohnn,” you say with a smile, stopping just behind him when he turns his head. 

“And you are?” There’s a tense layer laced into his words, but when you answer, he smiles slowly and nods to himself. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he mumbles. 

-

It's only been a few days since your encounter with the scientist and maybe it's because you've finally noticed him, that you notice him more and more. 

You see him in the cafeteria, surrounded by other scientists.

In the hallway, carrying a much more manageable stack of files that asking if he needs assistance would probably be offensive.

You see him peering into the different break rooms located on each floor, locking eyes with you for a moment, before pouring himself a cup of coffee.

He lingers in doorways, looking around and lifting his chin to peer over the crowd, trying to find someone. Sometimes, you’ll catch his eye and when you do, he looks away quickly and walks away.

A part of you thinks that maybe he’s waiting for you to approach him, but you can’t be too sure on that assumption. It is a nice thought to have though. 

It isn’t until your coworkers grab your bicep and whisper in your ear at how convenient it is that Dr. Ohnn appears where you are. There’s a smile that stretches across their face, and for a moment, you play along that the doctor might be interested in you. 

“Oh yeah, the cute and stalkerish scientist,” you say with a smile, placing a hand over your chest. “What a catch,” you sigh, rolling your eyes at the fits of giggles. 

Truth be told, you wouldn’t mind having said cute and stalkerish scientist be fond of you, but it probably isn’t that. It’s a nice thought to have, but you don’t fester on it for too long. He’s a scientist- one of the important ones around here, and you’re simply here for your paycheck and the benefits. 

-

You sit at your desk, typing and retyping emails, answering calls, and sneakily going on your phone when you can. For a moment, you think to yourself that maybe you should quit- live in the middle of nowhere, tough it out, but then your coworker drops off a pastry at the edge of your desk with a hasty “you’re welcome” and when taking a bite, the idea of living without the sweet baked good. 

A shadow crosses over your desk, and there’s a soft ‘click’ sound and you look up to see a cup of coffee placed on your desk, and over it stands the scientist who’s been not-so-secretly searching for you.

“Hello,” he greets you, his tongue tripping over your name. “I was wondering if you wanted a cup of coffee.” There’s a fiddly tone laced into his words, and it makes you smile.

He certainly is cute. 

“Hello Dr. Ohnn,” you greet. “Thanks for the coffee.” You grab the cup, and peer inside the cup. It’s half full. You glance up at him. “I don’t suppose you brought creamer or anything like that with you?” 

You see the apple in his throat bob as he gulps. “No,” he says, almost ashamed. “I uh- I didn’t know how you liked it and thought to play it safe with black. I apologize.”

“Would you like to walk with me to the breakroom?” You offer, standing up and grabbing at the cup. You grab at a napkin and cover the pastry, before taking a step away from your desk.

Instantaneously, he perks up. He smiles at you, taking a step back to allow you to walk with him. His forefinger and thumb pinch at the leg of his glasses, adjusting them so they sit properly on his face.

The walk is short, only light conversation about the weather and how the day has been going so far fills the air.

Thankfully, the break room is empty. You don’t think that Dr. Ohnn would like an audience when he’s with you.

You walk to the counter, and grab a pack of creamer and sugar. The dark coffee turns to a lighter version of itself. 

“So-” Dr. Ohnn rushes to your side when you start to speak- “what made you bring me a cup of coffee?” You stir in the contents and bring the rim of the cup to your lips, giving him the chance to speak.

“I wanted-” he trails off, and turns his head- “I just thought it would be nice to repay you. After you helped me with the files the other day.”

A smile graces your lips and he returns it, before looking away and clearing his throat. “Well thank you for the coffee, Dr. Ohnn. It was much appreciated.” 

“Johnathan,” he corrects. You tilt your head, confusion scrunching your brows. “You can call me Johnathan.”

“Oh,” you chirp. And realization dawns on you, as you smile. “Okay then. Thank you for the coffee, Johnathan.”

He nods curtly. “I just apologize that it wasn’t anything better than the break room coffee. I made sure to brew a fresh batch.” He shifts his weight nervously on each foot. “I’d have brought you some fancy coffee, or taken you somewhere but-” his face turns into a deep hue, and he pulls along the collar of his shirt. “I uh-  didn’t know your schedule or if you’d even want to go.” He lets the end of the sentence trail off into a rushed slur of words.

You dig your nails into the cup as the realization of what he wanted to do dawns on you.

The cup is placed down, and suddenly the room feels hot. “Oh! Really?” You unconsciously lean towards him, and he nods, looking away from you. "I’m flattered.” You can feel the tips of your ears burn. “I mean, if you’re not too busy after the end of the day, I’d love to get a cup of coffee with you.” You bite the inside of your cheeks before taking a risk. “Or we can get a bite to eat? Whatever you prefer of course.”

“Really?” He asks, a smile stretching across his face. “I’d love to do that. Either. We can definitely get something to eat.” 

“That’s great!” You exclaim, clapping your hands together. But you immediately retract. “Ah. I usually take the train to work, so if we can get something maybe close by? Like walking distance or-”

“I have a car,” he rushes. Your eyes widen and he straightens himself. “I can take us wherever you want to go. I don’t mind. I can drop you off at the station or at your home. Wherever you’d like.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” You ask, nerves making your stomach twist and turn.

“Not at all.” He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t mind. Honest.”

Nodding your head, you smile. “Okay,” you tell him. “If you’re sure you wouldn’t mind, then we can go to whatever restaurant- so long as you pick it.”

“Okay,” he says, smiling widely at you. “I’ll meet you at your desk, after I clock out,” he says confidently, before smiling a bit more softly. “Is that alright with you?”

“It’s alright with me,” you confirm.

“Great. It’s a date.” There’s worry laced into his words at his sentence, and you can't help the grin that grows.

“It’s a date.” He smiles when you agree with him. You reach your hand over, pausing and about to retract. With his eyes on you, you decide to commit. You reach over and grab his hand, giving it a soft squeeze. “I’ll see you later, Johnathan.” You give him another smile, before you wave goodbye, walking back to your desk with the coffee in your hand.

-

He sits down in front of you. After the rush of Spider-man- Spider-men, he reminds you- the building is in a panicked state. You’ve found some place to rest where the alarmed employees won’t peek through.

Your thumb ghosts over the red spot where the bagel had hit Johnthan. You click your tongue, frowning, and run your hand through his hair.

“Sorry about messing up your hair,” you mumble, running your fingers through the strands.

He shakes his head. “It’s okay.” He looks up, and your hands follow, curving down from the top of his head, down to cup his face. “Bagel had already messed it up.” He looks away from you, face growing warm under your palms.

“You took a hard hit.” He looks back down and you return to the top of his head, pinching away at any crumbs. “I forgot how strong Spider-man is.”

“Was,” he corrects.

You frown. “Is he not Spider-man?”

He murmurs something under his breath that you are unable to hear. “Not ours. It’s what I’m so busy with.” You choose not to respond, and he takes it as an invitation to continue further. “You saw me get hit with a bagel,” he groans. You smile softly even if he can’t see it.

You want to press further about whatever it is that he’s working on and why there are two Spider-men, but you know that it isn’t the time for that. You gulp and try to fix his hair, the once red spot, growing faint. Your mouth pulls into a thin line, and you take in a breath. 

With his head still down, you return to cup his face, lifting him up slightly. He turns his head, his nose and mouth pressing against your palm. You smile at him, and lower yourself, pressing a chaste kiss against the spot. His face flames up once more.

“I’m just happy it was a bagel and not an apple,” you tell him. “Come on,” you tell him, reaching down to grab at his hand, “I’m sure one of us is being looked for.” He squeezes your hand, and follows you quietly.

-

You sit beside him, the car playing a song from your playlist, and the air conditioner blowing a nice cool breeze to combat the warm air that is outside. Your legs are tucked underneath you, the drinks dotted in condensation as the two of you eat inside the car. 

Rain starts to pitter patter against the windshield and you turn your head to watch the drops collect. 

You turn back to Johnathan, watching as he eats his fries. He raises his brows at you. “Sorry to make you waste your gas,” you say, feeling just a bit bad about it, but not enough to lose your appetite. 

He shakes his head, quickly grabbing at your drink and taking a sip. You smile when he realizes that he grabbed the wrong drink. “No, no,” he comforts. “I like being with you. This is fine. Plus as a scientist, the pay is fine. As long as I have access to my bank account, I’m fine. There’s no need to worry about that type of stuff.” He reaches for your drink again, stopping short and sending you an apologetic smile, before grabbing at his own. He bites the tip of his straw, and takes a small sip before letting go. “If anything, I’m sorry that I took a drink from your soda.”

The rain collects, a storm furthering on, and you think you hear thunder somewhere. You two have flirted enough, been on enough dates to classify yourselves as “seeing each other” - whatever that means- when people ask, that it seems fine to take drinks from each other's straws. You know that what he did is an indirect kiss and you wonder if he knows that. 

You reach over, cupping your hands over his and tilting the drink towards you. You look at him, before returning your gaze to the drink and place your lips over the straw, taking a small sip. The taste of his drink rests heavy on your tongue, and you want more of it. 

“Now we’re even,” you say softly, letting go of his drink and returning to your side of the car.

His face flushes into a dark color, and his lips are parted open.

There’s a realization far off into your mind that he did realize what just transpired between the two of you and a soda.

Johnathan sets the drink down and adjusts his glasses, peering out the windshield where the rain washes down in waves. He turns back to you and reaches past the boundary that are the cupholders. His hands are warm as they cup your face, one reaches around, fingers curved over the back of your head, and the other holds you gently, letting you pull away if you were unsure about this, but you lean towards him.

Your heart beats against your chest, and you think that it’s going to bruise you, leave you battered and spill out, a bloody mess over his car. 

You’d really have to apologize then. 

The beating doesn’t stop- not when he’s pressing closer to you. It goes on, drumming inside of you, erratic and following the heaviness of the raindrops. It goes on as he kisses you, hands fumbling to keep the drinks steady when he pushes himself too close to you. He kisses fiercely, and desperately. His glasses press against your face, and you grab onto his shirt, twisting the fabric

The kiss deepens, and he pulls away for a breath of air, gasping for it as he presses pecks against the corner of your mouth. The cups be damned. You press yourself against him, your hands flat against his chest as you push him back, clambering across to sit on his lap.

His hands find themselves at your hips, and yours rest over his neck. He leans into your touch, and there’s a loud honk. You both startle, but he keeps kissing you, a hand leaving you to fumble with the seat. 

Thunder booms in the sky, and he bunches your shirt in his hand. 

The seat shoves back with full force, and you break away. You stare at each other with wide eyes, and you’re the first one laughing, wrapping your arms around him and giggling into his neck. Your heart still beats with a heavy pitter-patter. His laugh echoes in the car, and he holds you tightly. 

“I like your laugh,” you mumble into his neck. You press a kiss against him, and when you nuzzle into him, you can feel his pulse quicken.

“I like you,” he says tenderly. “A lot.”

You pull away, and his hands slip underneath your shirt, his hands burn against your skin as he holds your waist. “I like you a lot too.” You press a kiss against him. “Do you want to come back to my place?” Your hands move to cup his chest. “I’ll make it worth your while,” you tease, kissing along his jaw. Underneath you, he stiffens and you smile. “How ‘bout it Dr. Ohnn?” You press yourself against him, giving a soft roll of your hips. “Wanna continue this back at my place?” You fix his glasses, and smile as he stares at you with heavy-lidded eyes with  pupils blown-out.

“Fuck,” he breathes out. “I’d-” and as if the universe were against the idea itself, his phone begins to ring. Quickly, you and him search for the phone, and just as abundantly as the tension had started, it ends. He grabs at his phone and clears his throat, giving you a smile before answering it. You can catch only snippets of the conversation, and you watch as his face falls, and he gives you a sad look. 

Disappointment makes your shoulders fall. Whatever was going to happen, isn’t. At least not tonight. Clumsily, and something a lot worse than the “walk of shame”, you move awkwardly off of him, careful to not touch the drinks, and to not hurt him. 

He finishes the conversation, just as you sit down. You turn to him, and wait for him to start. 

“I have to go. It’s about work,” he says pitifully. “I- I don’t know when- Maybe we can-” he stops himself short. “I’m sorry.” 

You smile, and close the gap between the two of you with another kiss. “‘T’s not your fault. Maybe we can pick this up again sometime.”

“Yeah?” He asks hopefully.

You nod. “Definitely.” You press another kiss against him. “I really do like you Johnathan.”

“And I really like you,” he mumbles, and your name sounds honeyed on his tongue. 

“Mind dropping me off at least?” You ask, not really looking forward to having to call for some taxi service of the sort.

“Of course,” he says. “Anything for you.”

-

There’s a tapping at your window. It’s soft at first, and you only noticed it due to the pattern behind it. You groan and turn over, grabbing at your phone and hiding under the covers. The screen is bright and blinds you for a moment before you read the time. 

The tapping at the window hurries and it’s far too late- or early depending how you look at it- to deal with whatever or whoever is behind the glass. You close your eyes, your stomach twisting into itself and hoping that after a few more knocks, whoever or whatever will just move on. 

Then it starts to bang, and you jump with a start, almost going to turn on your bedside lamp, but stopping yourself. Maybe you could trick whoever is behind the glass that you’re asleep or not home. 

You’re tempted to grab at the pocketknife that you have hidden somewhere in your bedside table. The knocking on your window grows relentless. Whoever is there is banging, and then it just stops. You hold your breath, slowly reaching your hand to grab at the knob to the drawer to blindly look for the knife while your gaze stays focused on the window. 

On the other side, the words are muffled, and soft, but you hear them. Your name is whispered again in a hushed tone, the knocking returning, begging for you to answer. Slowly, your hand returns to your side, and the bed creaks as you shift your weight. 

You recognize the voice. It’s him. 

“Johnathan?” You ask in a shaky voice, hoping that you’re right.

“Yes,” he says hurriedly. 

The blankets have twisted themselves around you, and you kick them off. As you shift and turn, the bed creaks. Light fills the room, a warm glow that has you wincing and moving towards the window.

“Give me a minute. Let me open the window.” Your hands fist at the curtain when he replies.

“No!” He shouts, and in a softer voice, he speaks again. “Don’t.”

Your hand returns to you, and you remember the rumor that was going on around Alchemax.

How Dr. Ohnn wasn’t- right. How he wasn’t human, or how he should have died. It was a joke around the office, as if whatever happened was humorous, but when someone asked, the joke died. 

He couldn’t be whatever it is that the others were describing him as.

“Johnathan?” You call out. He knocks against the window. “Are- You can come in. It’s okay,” you reassure him. 

“No,” he says again.

You frown, and fist your hands together, your nails digging into your palms. “Then I’m going to open the window.”

“Don’t.” He sounds scared.

“Johnathan.” Your voice is stern, at least that’s what you’re hoping for.

“This was a mistake,” he says. You’re sure that he’s talking to himself, but even so, you reply.

“You came here,” you hiss out, face burning with some type of emotion.

It’s silent, and you fear that he’s left. “I wasn’t thinking,” he says. “I just- I wanted to see you,” he mumbles.

Your shoulders slump. “I wanted to see you too.” It’s silent and you take a deep breath. “Please come in.” 

“Okay,” he finally concedes. Before you can make your way to open the window, his voice starts again. “But you don’t have to open the window. I can get in.”

A nervous laughter escapes your mouth before you can stop it. “Whatever you say.”

You look around, wondering what he’s going to do. Maybe he’ll walk through the door. Or appear in a vent. But then a black spot forms on the ceiling, and you watch as something white, and black spotted exits through the hole. And then all at once, a lump of whatever it was falls to your floor. 

It groans out in discomfort, and you watch as legs and arms straighten themselves out. Once upright, a man-shaped person- you aren’t entirely sure- is faced towards you. A black spot where a face should be stares at you.

The rumor was true. There’s a twisting in your stomach, and you yelp, pressing yourself against your headboard, and you immediately regret it, when he stiffens and moves closer to your bedroom door.

It’s Johnathan. 

He’s all skin and spots, standing far too tall in your bedroom.

“I’m sorry. I just- I wasn’t expecting-” you bite at your bottom lip- “spots. Do you-” You pause. Does he eat? Does he drink? He stands so awkwardly, shifting his weight, and it reminds you of him. It’s still him. “Do you want to sit down with me?” You pat the space next to you, the one on the bed that’s close to the wall. 

He must be feeling some type of way because he nods and walks over. He’s a mess of limbs, legs long and hands cup and twist at the bed sheets as he sits next to you. He still looks away from you. 

You missed him. You open your mouth to tell him just that, that you wanted to see him and were worried for him. 

“How have you been?” You bite the inside of your cheeks at the wrong words.

“What do you think?”

“I’ve missed you.” He looks at you, and you stare into the hole that place where his face once was. You wonder what expression he would make. You think he’d look surprised. “I quit Alchemax. There were cops and stuff and well thankfully I wasn’t a scientist so I was able to just leave. Cops still asked me some questions.”

“Where are you working now?”

“There’s this little library a few streets over-” you wave your hand in a vague direction- “pay’s all right, but I had some money saved up. I uh- might move. Get a smaller place, you know.”

“I think I’m not gonna have a place to live.”

“You can stay with me,” you say. “I’d like the company. You know, as long as you help pack and stuff. We- I can get your stuff from your place. You know, if the police haven’t taken anything as evidence.”

“Most of it has been taken.” He doesn’t explain further.

“I can get you some new clothes.” You peer at him, and you can’t help but just stare at him. “I’d uh- I’d have to measure you. Get you a scarf, or a hat. Maybe both,” you add.

“I can’t believe I’m in your bedroom and I look like this.”

You frown. “Yeah, well,” you trail off. You rest your head on a white part of him, your hand over his chest, fingertips just below a black spot. “I’m glad that you’re here. I was worried. I thought that- that something else had happened to you.”

“I’m sorry for making you worried.” You know that he means it.

“It’s okay.” You aren’t sure if you mean it. You worried yourself to tears. He grunts out a response, and you kiss at a white area on his shoulder. “Are you hungry?” You furrow your brows. “Can you eat?” 

“You wanna ask about the holes, right?” He says, and you nod. “Might as well get it out of the way,” he mutters.

“What are they?”

“Spots. I’m thinking about calling myself The Spot.” He turns to you, and you grab at a hand, rimming the edge of it with the pad of your forefinger. “What do you think?” He says your name, but stops short, when he realizes what you’re doing. “Oh.”

You pull away, and he grabs at your hand and brings it back. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Can you feel it?” You ask, returning to another spot.

He nods swiftly. “You can put your hand in it.” You look up at him and tilt your head curiously. “In my hole. You can put your hand in my hole.” You snort at the phrase, but take him up on his offer.

Your hand disappears, and you watch as it comes up on another spot of his body. You flex your hand, and it’s surreal, seeing it appear from somewhere else. 

“Woah,” you breathe out. “You’re so cool,” you mutter. 

“You think so?” He asks incredulously. 

“Mhm.” You nod slowly, pulling your hand partly out, watching as your fingers still peek out. “Super cool,” you mumble. You pull your hand out and you smile up at him. You turn your hand, seeing it fully intact, and you try to fight back a yawn, only to fail. “Are you tired?”

“I woke you up,” he says in a small voice.

“I’m glad that you did,” you say earnestly. “I’m happy that I got to see you.” You hold his hand in yours, and your fingertip goes along the white area of his body. “Do you want to spend the night?” You tighten your hand around his. “I want you to. I’d like you to get some rest.”

“You would?”

“Of course.”

“In your bed?”

You snort. “Of course, in my bed. It’d be fucked up if I gave you the couch or something.” You let go of his leg and slap his knee. “Come on, Johnathan. Get under the covers.” You grab at the furled up mess of blankets, straightening them over your body and his. He watches your every move, and keeps his face turned in your direction until the light clicks off and you can’t see him. You lay beside him, turning on your side, and resting your hand over his chest, careful to not let your hand dip into one of his holes. 

“Goodnight,” he says your name in a quiet voice, one of his hands clutching onto your forearm.

“Night Johnathan,” you whisper, pressing a kiss against him.

[festering-obsession]

Yandere! Fallen Angel x GN! Reader

Tw/Cw: Religious Themes, Slight Body Horror, Some Violence, Mentions of a Panic Attack, Yandere and Dark Themes!!

You never really considered yourself religious, and you didn't quite mind that, either. But when you found yourself down on the ground, heart pounding and tears of fear, maybe even relief? rush down your face you thanked God for it all.

By some miracle, the man who had a gun pressed against your head for a wallet you left at home had his hand clutched against the shirt near his heart foaming out the mouth. The gun that almost took your life laid stagnant against the ground in near mockery, but you were alive. And breathing.

Now what do you do? Who do you contact? Your hands clumsily pull out your phone, you didn't want to be alone at the moment. Trying to turn the screen on, and all you were met with was a red blinking battery. Fuck it, just leave quickly and go straight home.

Gathering your senses, you wanted to never even look back at that alleyway. Brushing off the dirt off your knees, your eyes gazed back to the fallen man. His hand that was once clutched tight was now loose. His hand covered, blood? The crimson liquid was slowly leaking out of his chest. Yet he didn't even scream and you certainly didn't hear the sound of a gunshot. You tore your eyes away as you walked out of there.

Pacing, walking, running, you didn't know. You were in a daze trying to reach to your apartment. Nothing felt real, and you felt numb to any thought.

"Hey, are you okay?" Someone spoke as you felt yourself bump into a stranger. And you felt yourself shake uncontrollably.

"Oh, wow, okay, let's breathe alright?" The person spoke as you looked up with blurry eyes. "You're okay, breathe with me. You're okay. I'm going to move you to sit on a bench, alright?" The lightest touch appeared on your back as you gently moved out the way and was sitting down.

The thoughts racing finally started slowing down. Your breath steadied. You felt a hand holding onto yours gently.

"Are you alright now? Here, why don't you follow me and get a warm drink." You looked up at slowly nodded. He was engulfed in a black turtleneck, long black curls tied back in a low ponytail. A few hung around his face to frame his slim face perfectly.

"Thank you so much...But I don't want to bother you too much longer. Having to calm down a stranger like that isn't really day to day." You said, head hanging down in shame. You could feel the tears and sweat drying on your skin.

"No, it's fine. On me, alright?" He smiled, and you could see the freckles dotting on his skin. "My name is Sam, yours?"

"Well if that's the case, my name is F/N." You sighed out before mentioning. "I just, saw a really traumatizing thing tonight, and I didn't know what to do..."

"If you're comfortable telling me, I can try to help you in any way I can. Now tell me, are you more of a tea or coffee type of person?" He smiled, and maybe it was the adrenaline still running off hazing your eyesight, you saw a rather pointy smile.

The walk to the coffee shop was rather quick, as many store and shops were close to eachother in this city. Yet, as the streetlights and moon lit up the path, you still felt uneasy. Sure, you almost got mugged and embarrassed yourself in public, but a gnawing one. Like you know something felt off. Even the casual conversation going on between you and Sam flowed naturally, you felt as if his eyes bore into your body a little too hard.

"Almost there, you won't regret coming here. And let me tell you, the batistas are really talented." He said joyfully. His long strides seemed to pick up as he seemed almost jittery to get there. You made sure to keep up with him.

There was no sign outside indicating it was open, but as you looked inside through the window, it seemed well decorated. Sam pushed open the door for you all too happy. The cafe was small and warmly lit. You could see coffee machines behind the dark mahogany counter.

"What do you want? It's on me!" Sam said as he looked at the "menu". Maybe you needed some stronger glasses, but the writing on the blackboards looked as if it was written in gibberish.

"Oh, thank you. I'll get the latte." You spoke as your eyes wandered around the establishment. There wasn't a worker in sight, in fact, you and Sam were the only customers. Maybe the fact it was so slow made the employees hang in the back.

Then it hit you, it doesn't even smell like coffee in here. You looked around and found the symbol of a restroom. "Hey, Sam, I'll be right back." His happy deamoner faltered and as he looked back, his face looked hazed, almost akin to a glitch.

"Oh, that's fine. I'll order for you then." As he turned back to the counter. You stepped into the bathroom and locked the door and sat on the toilet, head in hands. Fuck, today is all so weird. Just breathe, it'll pass over. Today will be a new day, you tried to affirm yourself.

You got up and looked in the mirror and gave a slight slap on both of your cheeks, just enough to wake up.

Stepping outside, it seemed as if the store was completely empty again. Almost eerily quiet except for the occasional person stepping past the cafe outside.

"Sam?" You said looking at the counter were he previously was.

"Oh, there you are!" You almost squeaked in surprise as he appeared behind you with two drinks in hand. "Here's your latte, as promised."

You gratefully grabbed the coffee and Sam led you to sit down at a booth.

"Well, that was fast." You spoke. "Not that I'm complaining though."

"Yeah, they were all ready to make the drinks so we could hopefully leave faster." Sam replied. "Now, do mind telling me what happened?"

Would you get in trouble if you told him? Should you have reported it to the police. "A guy was just following me, I didn't know where to run to." You sighed out.

"Really? If I was there, I wouldn't have minded ripping out his insides, haha! Men like that are scum." Sam laughed as he took a sip of the drink.

Rip out his guts? Sure, you agree with the sentiment but that was a little extreme to say to an acquaintance you nearly just met. You forced a laugh to not make any awkward silence awaken.

You sipped on your coffee, just to find it cold. Damn, were they that tired to try and make you leave that fast? But hey, you're not going to let down a free coffee.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. And a man entered.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing here? I just bought this fucking lot. There's nothing here to fucking steal!" He stomped up to the two of you.

Your mouth felt dry as confusion grew. Its a coffee shop, and you dont recall a "for sell" sign. You tried to stutter something out but you were at a loss for words.

"I, I don't understand." You finally got out. Your hands clutched onto the "coffee" only for you to realize it was a glass with clear liquid.

In fact, the "cafe" seemed to dissappear. The walls slowly felt as if it was melting into an abondoned plot as you sat down on a short, wooden stool.

"What are you even drinking you bitch? Get!" The man rapidly approached you. Where was Sam? What was all of this.

The old man went to yank you but Sam suddenly appeared with a tight grip on him.

It looked like Sam, but it didn't at the same time. His mood was completely changed.

"Where the fuck did you come from? Let go of me or I'm calling the damn poli-!" And the threat never came threw. Sam swiped at his chest, which caused a slight glow before the man fell to his knees, foam pouring out his mouth.

"Sam? What did you just do..?" You backed up from him and 'Sam' turned to you all too cheerfully.

"What I had to do, dearest." He spoke joyfully. He turned to you, blood dripping down his hand.

Then, he seemed to melt. Black curls and blue eyes were no more as it was replaced with something else. He reminded you of a moth, shifting out of this skin to become something unrecognizable. He seemed to glow, and long feathered hair seemed to grow. He was pale and his hair was a pure white besides his black roots. His eyes were completely black as well and when he smiled you felt your heart jump at the sight of his insanely sharp teeth.

Leathered black wings lifted behind him and the clothes he once wore had been replaced by tattered white robes that looked as if they were burnt. The tips of his hands and feet were in a grey hue.

He smiled as he approached you. A predatory like grin etched across his face and you felt the hairs on your body stand.

"Well, now you see me in all my glory, my Eden." You backed up. His eyes were focused on you. "That 'Sam' is nothing but a mere disguise, so I can show my affection for you in front of humans. Well, I wouldn't mind letting them know the true me if it means they know to not get near you."

His presence was overwhelming as he towered over you, his tattered robe pulling behind him.

"You killed him, you, you, you." You didn't know what to say beside hope it's all a dream. "Why?" You cried out.

"Oh, you dont want to know the things I have done in your name." He giggled. "You're who I place my whole and only devotion to. The only one I love and worship. Ever since I was "assigned" to you, I knew we were connected. Well." He chuckled.

"Not technically "assigned". I had to get rid of your previous Guardian before I could." You tried to push him off but before you knew, he engulfed you completely.

"My eden, do you know how hard the fall for me was?" He touched your cheek and pushed his head against your temple. "But for you, I'd do it every day if it meant being able to touch you. To even wash your feet would be a sacred duty to me."

You feel tears starting again as he holds you closer. "I need to be in your skin, but until then, this will do."

"You can't do this, you monster." You sobbed out.

"At least say my name, my Eden, please say Saleos for me." He almost near begged before laughing haughtily. You glared up at him.

"Say what you will, but you won't be able to escape me, I will follow you." His fingers grabbed your chin as he stared down onto your lips and pressed them against yours.

Even despite his huge size and sharp teeth, he was gentle. You tried pushing him off but he just gripped onto your clothes. He held you close and as if you would dissappear.

"Not even death can hold us apart."

....

A/N: As much as I love writing for Hewu'itan, I decided to mix it up a bit! (I have a draft for him almost completed) I hope you enjoy Saleos and if you like him enough, I'll write more about him.

[happyk44]

Thinking abt Hazel who usually gets Macaria to do her hair since they have similiar hair types (I perceive Macaria to appear black in her day-to-day, like Thanatos). Or sometimes Zagreus, who loved to play with his sisters' hair as a kid and is still willing to sit down for a few hours to do painstakingly complex braids.

But they're both gone, doing their own thing, when Hazel comes down and she sighs because this is the only free moment she has and sure she could get it done at Camp Jupiter or New Rome but she liked the family aspect.

Also it's free when her siblings do her hair. And free is always convenient.

She considers Nico, who's not that bad at it, he just takes way longer than everyone else and his plaits aren't as tight as they could be, when Pluto walks by. He prompts her and she tells him and blinks confused when a second pips by and she's suddenly seated on a plush cushion, products and brushes and combs around her. Her father is seated behind her, his long long legs stretched out.

It's sort of annoying how tall he is. He's behind her and yet his feet pass hers.

Why the hell is she and Nico so short? Even Macaria, born by Hades' sole hand from the dirt of the underworld and dessicated souls, defaults to just below average.

His fingers are cool against her nap as he separates her evenly. "What were you looking for?"

"Uh-" A book appears on her lap. She flips it open. Dozens of hair styles on every page, every hair type accommodated, every style listed. Even the ones far out of date. The models differ - in age, in race, in gender, in time period.

They feel familiar, familial. She wonders what it would take for her to join this family photo album. If she'll be present by mere existence, or if she needs to display a style never seen before for it to count.

"Uh, I usually just get..." She pauses on a photo. The girl is smiling wide with jewels adorning each plait. Even in the turnarounds, when her face is no longer visible, she seems happy. "This one is nice."

Pluto's chin scoots across the top of her head as he looks down. "Fulani with ornamental accents," he muses. He waves his hand as a bowl of beads appears between their legs. Different colours, different gems. "Pick. I'll let you know when I get there."

Hazel picks up the bowl. The jewels glitter. "Did you do all of these?"

"Most of them," he says.

She pulls out a thick golden bead. "Do you like doing hair?"

It seems a stupid question when it hits the hair and she curses her brain for not catching her tongue. But he answers, amused, "Sometimes. When you're patient. Nico never was, but fortunately Hades is a little more relaxed than I am."

She thinks of Nico, young, and tucked into their father's lap, wet locks being combed and brushed back gently as they dry. She thinks of him squirming, as kids do, bored of sitting still while his hair is trimmed. Or curled. Or whatever he had going on. For all she knows, he was being braided too, with slick smooth plaits. Over and under, over and under. Thin fingers and a idle smile listening to the chatter of a toddler.

"I didn't have much help when she was born," he continues. "And Macaria liked to play rough with the dogs and chickens and Furies." He clips part of her hair to the side and hums softly. "And their claws are not quite suited to crafting ponytails or braids from thick curly hair."

Hazel sets a beautiful onyx bead with her slowly forming pile. There's a thin golden imprint of a skull on it. The skin of it is smooth. Even the grooves are so subtle she can't feel them with her fingertip, only sensing it from the catch of her nail.

"And you just... carried on with it?" She pauses, shifting her head with gentle guide of his hands. "Even when they had other people without claws to help?"

"Of course." The comb is gentle as he passes it through. Slow and steady. Like Macaria and Zagreus, but softer somehow. "I'm your father. Why wouldn't I keep doing your hair?"

[gabessquishytum]

tw suicide mentioned

So Hob doesn’t understand why people don’t love live, he feels like one of the only people who actually has a will to live. so of course he decides to work for a suicide hotline. And things are going good, he’s helping people. and then M calls. “I see no reason left to live,”

“oh um, hello…”

“you have two minutes to convince me otherwise”

“woah woah woah, where are you?” Hob asked feeling frantic. the stranger on the other end of the line sighs, “on the ledge of my building why else would I be calling you?”

Hob is about to dial 911, “could I pursued you to get off the ledge and back into your house?”

the stranger sighs, and hob hears some shuffling and then a door clicking closed. ok good, not in imminent danger.

“you said you wanted reasons to live yes?”

“Indeed, I do not understand why someone would want an eternity of this,” the stranger grumbled.

“I want to live to be a hundred! I’d say that’s pretty close to eternity as for reasons to live Have you considered…chimneys?”

“excuse me?”

“chimneys are fantastic you know, we wouldn’t have had that seen from Mary poppins and handkerchiefs! Where would we be without hankies? I’m sure in a lot grosser society,”

the stranger sighs, “something from this century Mr…”

“Hob, Hob Gadling, now let’s see was ac this century?”

“no”

“how about iPhones?”

“I will not live for an iPhone,”

“what about love?” Shit, he crossed a line.

“she left me… took our son too”

“oh…”

They spent the next hour talking Hob talked about his dead wife and being a single father while the stranger gave the first letter of his name. Fair trade.

M hung up feeling a little more optimistic and Hob gave himself a pat on the back for a good job.

“Hob could you come here?” Ronnie wasn’t the chatty type so hob assumed something was very wrong.

“hey Ronnie, what’s up?”

“well um there’s a man whose been calling everyday and he’s been asking for you specifically…” Ronnie blushed.

“Can you transfer the call to my phone?”

Ronnie obliged.

Hob picked up the phone preparing for the worst. “is this…Hob Gadling?”

it was M! Hob was mortified.

“M what are you doing calling everyday, is something wrong?”

“no, I’m fine, I feel better than I have in a long time. I was trying to reach you to say thank you and to…chat”

hob sighed, “M I’ve got a job,”

he heard a defeated whimper on the other end.

“Alright alright I’ll give, listen I’m not supposed to do this get out a pen and paper cause I won’t say it twice.”

and hob gave M his personal phone number.

and suddenly Morpheus and Hob had something new to live for, love.

-🦎

Ohhh boy yeah I can totally see this playing out! I'm definitely super fascinated by the idea of Hob working/volunteering on a crisis hotline. Especially when he's kind of at the opposite end of the spectrum. I do think he'd be genuinely interested in why people experience such drastically different views on life. Maybe he'd hope that his own outlook on life could be helpful. He knows that he's lucky - it's time to give back to the community and appreciate exactly how lucky he is to have good mental health.

M is the person who really teaches Hob about what its like to struggle. But still, he hopes that he might have made a difference. Maybe it was dumb to talk about chimneys and love, but it did get M to open up! Hob has so many hopes for the man, and he's secretly thrilled that he actually gets an update that M is feeling hopeful too! It's against all the rules, but talking to M - Morpheus - every day... Hob feels like it's doing both of them good. Morpheus is in therapy, he's feeling more confident, he sees a little more brightness in the world. In turn, Hob feels a greater understanding of himself and his own life. Hes a better person, now. And he feels a love for Morpheus which is growing every day.

It's slow, and steady, and there are bumps in the road. Morpheus’s mental health comes above all else for Hob, and he's keen to make sure that his lover takes care of himself. Even if that means taking breaks from their relationship. Hob knows that as long as his Morpheus is alive and well, he'll be happy. And if they keep on working together, step by step, there's a bright future for both of them.

And maybe one day it'll be Morpheus working at the crisis hotline right alongside Hob, telling everyone exactly why life is worth living.

[peachy-pink-princess]

♡Kisses with enhypen ♡

Warning: this post is slightly more mature than my other posts I hope you enjoy it and don't forget to follow!

1.1k words

Heeseung: Have y'all seen his lips? I'm going feral. ♡Anyways Heeseung is a soft kisser, likes to take his time with you. Slow and steady wins the race in mind

♡ He likes to grab your chin and lift it up only to brush his lips against yours softly, teasing you and testing your patience.

♡ Heeseung prefers to kiss passionately, sure pecks are sweet and all but he is more of a menace than you expect, he wants to really show off how talented his lips are

♡ Has and will use stupid pickup lines in order to get you to kiss him

♡ " I can't taste my lips, would you be able to do it for me? "

Jay:

♡ I consider him to be one of the best at being romantic, that goes beyond kissing

♡ Even if he's a man of passion he's still only human so making out with Jay is a routine

♡ Jay is the type of kisser who enjoys you in his lap it gives him access to touch you everywhere

♡ He enjoys when his hands go to your hips not allowing you to move and hide your face when you start to blush because of him ( it really feeds his ego babe )

♡ Just as much of a menace as Heeseung, just in a different way. Jay much prefers to force you to tell him you want kisses.

♡ He'll intentionally be putting on his chapstick in front of you and smacking his lips together, knowing you'll start staring, wanting a piece of him for yourself

♡ " huh? You want something, well you have to tell me baby and then maybe you'll get it ~"

Jake:

♡ Jake does not give a damn if a kiss is passionate or not. As long as his hands are on you than who cares? Any kiss is a win to him.

♡ He craves to kiss you it's almost unhealthy. He'll beg for a single peck from you and if course they make his day

♡ If you aren't around him be definitely kisses a photo of you on his phone and counts the days until you see each other. Every day you go without kissing him means you owe him that amount of kisses. It's the rules.

♡ Isn't afraid of kissing you around the members. Even if Niki throws out a little ' ew '. To Jake everyone's just jealous of the Happy and healthy relationship you two have built. Honestly, plenty of people are jealous.

♡ One feature he knows is beautiful on himself are his lips. I mean holy shit have you seen them?!? They're pillowy, soft and plump. People dream about kissing them✋

♡ He just hopes you know how lucky you are to kiss them, so go ahead and kiss them~

♡ " hey, what's the point of complimenting my lips if you aren't going to kiss them? "

Sunghoon:

♡ Acts like he doesn't want kisses...but when you give them to him he is all smiles

♡ Sunghoon likes to kiss your hands a lot, your his princess/prince and deserve the treatment of one too

♡ Sunghoon knows he's a good kisser, and it gets him out of trouble a lot too- your scolding him for something stupid, it's hard to talk with his lips on yours. He'll distract you from the problem immediately! Works great!

♡ Smiles into kisses a lot, Sunghoon has a huge goofy side and of course those moments can come out when he kisses you especially when you two are doing something a little bit risky- like kissing at the dorms. He'll probably be smiling like a crazy person- but you can tell he's scared shitless that a member is gonna walk in- he will never be able to live it down.

♡ Two words: Morning Makeouts.

♡ " you want to kiss me? Well what's stopping you, love? Kiss me. "

Sunoo:

♡ Well yes if course you're getting a bunch with him. His favorite place to kiss those has to be your cheeks, he can squish them in his hand and give them plenty of kisses!

♡ For him he does not care if he is around the members when he kisses you, he sees no shame in being in love. It's completely normal to kiss after all!

♡ Contrary to popular beliefs I think he's a little bit more skilled in people act like he is. Sunoo may have that very innocent boy crush aesthetic sometimes but every once in awhile a sexy sunoo comes out- so I think he knows damn well how to lead his significant other while kissing

♡ Will intentionally try to tempt you into wanting to kiss him and then acts like he has no clue what you're talking about~

♡ " staring is rude you know. Why should you keep looking at my lips when you can kiss them? "

Jungwon:

♡ Quick cute kisses

♡ They serve as his good luck charm he needs them!

♡ If you aren't around him it's ok, he can kiss his phone or look at the Polaroid of the two of you kissing to feeling lucky again ( lucky to have you )

♡ You want a kiss for him? Babe you gotta work for it, he'll lift your chin up...get real close and then say "maybe later" ( he finds it hilarious/ you do not. )

♡ Jungwon is the type of kisser who if things get 'heated' he'll pull away and ask if you were ok. He wants the feedback, he wants to please to the fullest!

♡ " Was I too rough? I know I grabbed your chin a little more than usual, was it ok? "

Niki:

♡ HEAD KISSES

♡ I'm a firm believer Riki is a head/forehead kisser

♡ He's a bit embarrassed of skinship around the Hyungs but with him being so tall it's just so easy to kiss your head!

♡ If he's jealous? Head kiss. Comforting you? Head kiss. He just loves them

♡ you'll probably have to initiate most of the kisses with him just because he doesn't know if it's alright to just go ahead and kiss you

♡ If you think Sunghoon Acts like he doesn't need kisses, trust me Riki is worse. Will and has pushed you off him if you try and kiss him near the Hyungs

♡ Don't worry he makes it up with a lot of kisses after they are gone, he just wants private moments with you

♡ " sorry for earlier, but I'm gonna make it up, any kisses you want wherever you want them! "

I hope you guys enjoyed! Don't forget to follow xoxoxo

[wizardfrog69]

consider: Soft dom sigma taking reader's virginity

0////0 please, I'm so soft for him. I want to hold his hand so bad!

I am considering and I am writing, thank you for the request! I keep getting more requests and its really fun to write them. :)

'•.¸♡"can I hold your hand?"♡¸.•'

Sigma x gn!reader (the sex isn't specified)

Nsfw

Please if you don't feel comfortable with nsfw/nsft content do not read this

He was quite nervous since this was your first night together but he wanted to do it nonetheless.

He'll go in slowly and let you get used to the size of his dick inside you (also he'll use lube cuz it's important and stuff also like safety stuff yk, always use a condom!)

His thrusts are slow and steady making sure you're comfortable at all times and if you want for him to go a little fast then he will but not too fast.

Sigma is type of guy who will give you kisses like a lot of kisses

He kisses your whole body and makes you feel very special (these hc are not in order :')

Also he's holding your hands throughout the whole time.

After the two of you are finished he will clean up and congratulate you on doing well also a little forehead kiss for good luck.

And cuddling for the rest of the night.

༺♡༻ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 ⋆ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 ༺♡༻

For a person who knows a lot about sex and literally listening to a song about sex I have no idea how to write about sex. I'm sorry this is worser then shit and I've written nsfw shit before so idk what's going on but of well.

Have a wonderful day/night and don't forget to rest :)

-Idk if a want anyone to read this, Az

[swiftscion]

TOA anniversary munday!

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is.

Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing!

Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.

tagging: you. yes, you.

Name: Orokara

Pronouns: he/they

Birthday (no year): February 3

Where are you from? What is your time zone? Canada; EST

Roleplay experience: I have no idea but probably something like 7 or 8 years at this point

Got any pets? Just a few fish, if you can count those

Favorite time of year: Spring! It feels really nice when the days start to get longer

Some interests and things you like: Mythology, music and playlist making, reading, animanga, cooking, random video essays, biology

Some fun facts & trivia about you: I used to moderate a few roleplay groups and a Pixelmon server myself, though those interests all died. I share a birthday with Hilda Goneril. I have an awful habit of starting things and then never finishing them. I like wearing bracelets and golf clothing. I crack my neck like all the time.

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? Currently, Honkai: Star Rail, League of Legends, and Flight Rising. I'm also a big fan of the Pokemon series (and fan games), Project Moon games, Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance, Ultrakill, and Omori. Currently looking for people to play Stardew Valley with me ehe

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: Ghost and Grass. I used to be a grass-type gym leader on the Pixelmon server i helped run, and Appletun was my ace. Did you know that due to its ability thick fat and partial dragon typing, it actually resists fire moves? Many of my challengers didn't ;) my other faves are Hisiuan Zoroark, and Altaria!

How did you get into Fire Emblem? I liked Ike from Smash Brothers Brawl and on a whim decided to play Path of Radiance one day. It was one of my first emulator experiences. I let Rhys and Soren die on the first map they were available and never reset for them. It was bad.

What Fire Emblem games have you played? All mainlines at least once, plus feh

First Fire Emblem game: Path of Radiance!

Favorite Fire Emblem game: Blazing Blade, Binding Blade, and Genealogy in no particular order

Any Fire Emblem crushes? Kagetsu, Shannan, DIECK, Tibarn, Gerik, Selena/Severa

If you’ve played the following games, who was your first S support? Awakening - I don't remember but most recent is Chrom. Fates - Selena. Three Houses - Marianne. Engage - Mauvier

Favorite Fire Emblem class: Swordmaster but I use early game pegasus knights and thieves religiously. Dodgetanking is my favorite thing ever

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class? Navarre archetype myrmidon

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? Fear the Deer baby!

If you were an Engage character, which Emblem would you Engage with? Emblem Ike so I can run into an entire pack of enemies and slap the great aether button

How did you find TOA? Got invited after i was struggling as like. the only fe4 fan in a discord group that mostly wrote modern fe titles

Current TOA muses: Larcei, Owain, Sain

Who was your first TOA muse? If you don’t have them anymore, could you see yourself picking them up again? Larcei! Though she has come and gone

Have you had any other TOA muses? Ough I might not remember them all but I think the list is: Lewyn, Elm, Sirius, L'Arachel, Ryoma, Idunn

Do you think you have a type of character you gravitate towards? This might sound crazy considering my muselist but edgy swordsmen... I think people who grapple with feelings of revenge, hatred, and guilt are so interesting to delve into the psychology of. Lif is probably my all-time fave, if that says anything about me

What do you believe you enjoy writing the most? Slow and steady character growth. I like it so much when my muses become long-term friends with other ones. Owain and Julius, Larcei and Edward, Sain and Caeda, etc etc. Gaining a new reason to wake up in the morning and all the implications of that is always a joy to hash out over the course over multiple posts

Favorite TOA-related memory: The time Sirius and Est kept being forced to attack eachother by an arena boss, but whiffed all their rolls. Darcy and I wrote it with this little tongue-and-cheek bit where they kept saying "now isn't the time for sparring" before misdirecting yet another attack and writing Sirius' feelings regarding her, his past in Archanea, and the present state of that arena was real fun. Shoutout to N's Leif for the incredible setting of a really dark cave, too!

How do you pronounce TOA?: Sometimes I pronounce each letter individually and sometimes I say "towah". I am mad inconsistent sorry

Got any delusions that didn’t see the light of day in TOA that you’d like to share? Fuck it have my whole delusion list: Rutger, Fergus, Lif, The Vaike, Lewyn (again), Osian, Melady, Orson, Zihark, Louis, Kagetsu, Libra, Lon'qu

[subway-boss-jericho]

Hey all! Announcement stuff!

Thank you to everyone who has been very patient with me. I swear to god i could turn into one of those Ao3 authors thats like "hahaha sorry i havent updated in so long i died and then came back to life and then i had to work 7 jobs" and im being so fucking brave about it!! ANYWAYS THATS NOT WHAT THIS IS ABOUT!

Tomorrow is the 1 Year anniversary of steady tracks chapter 1! 🥳(and also my birthday. yes that was on purpose)

So! I wanted to give you all some updates and stuff to look forward to because oh god it sure has been an entire fucking year since I uploaded stuff and I refuse to feel bad about it but my brain is trying so hard to make me! I am working on chapter 2. Progress has been terribly slow because of severe life events, thank you for your understanding.

So!! What's next? Well, over the summer I am really fucking hoping to finish chapter 2. I know I keep saying this but literally i stg. I'm going apeshit. do you know how hard it is to think about something for an entire year and never have the time, motivation, or energy at the same time to make it exist?? fucked up!! Before that though, I have a few things.

I TOLD you all that I would talk about an AU of mine, whichever was highest voted in that strawpoll I did, and then surprise i fuckin didnt do that. I would very very much like to do that! The problem, I realized, is that I operate super hard on a reactionary basis so I am not prone to talking about anything that is mine until prompted about it or given permission. Fucking, Wack. This is my house. I should be cringe and free but nooooo. Anyways, because of this, I am planning on doing 2 things -> Actually tell you guys about spirit keeper! You all voted for him back when, and especially with that ✨Fucking, Gorgeous✨ commission from Fronomeeps I got (for me birthday :]) I really really really want to do that. And post my art more. and shit like that. seriously i need to get out of my head or I'll explode. someone needs to scream about how cool these stories are with me or I'll dissolve. -> I am thinking of doing a day long event where I stream an Aggie/(Magma?) where I draw my AUs and let people hop in to join in (as long as it stays on topic!) as well as answering as many asks as I can about my many aus and basically setting you guys up to trick me into infodumping. Because let me tell you i have a year and a halfs worth of words in my head and i am 100% confident ingo and emmet enjoyers would really like to hear them. So I wanna do a big ask party Q&A and really get things rolling!! Hopefully with drawings and doodles involved! as a celebration for myself, and as a way to open up to the greater fandom (Please leave a comment if you think that sounds cool, I'm trying to gauge interest because if i went all out and no one showed up it would be Extremely Depressing!)

ON! THAT! TOPIC!!! I am actively (literally interspersed with as I am typing this) making a UQUIZ about all of my significant AUs. For the record, there are 23 results on this quiz. I currently only have 3/23 final results completed, but it is my active focus over the weekend to finish as many of those as I can to try and complete the entire thing within a week or less. Also poking at my phrasing here, when I say my significant aus I Mean It, I have more than 23, but these 23 are the ones with stories tangible enough to start somewhere and elaborate on. I have about 10 that I would consider my main AUs, but some of the smaller ones are huge sleeper favorites.

SO YEAH!!! PLEASE LOOK FORWARD TO THAT AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU'RE INTERESTED!! I really wanna do fun stuff and get to know people in the fandom more than just. that person who wrote 1 chapter of a cool fic that one time. I have so much more to offer and I struggle so much to offer it. Please draw me out of my shell, I wish to enter the fandom sphere 🥺

thank you for giving me a great year <3 ((and hopefully the next one will be better <3))

[distortedclouds]

for the fanfic writer emoji ask:

🥺⛔️🌞🦅👀⌛️🛠

i could ask about all of them really but do we have that kind of time

Hello there!!

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

This questions is kinda vague, bc are we talking canon moments or something I like to write... so I'll do both!

Canon-wise I'm excited to see them meet again, yeah on Annie's titan hand, but also after it's all over, because then they'd be sure they actually made it out and have each other. The relief on their faces is what I'm anticipating to kill me

Fanon-wise, I like aurani hugs. Just big warm bear hugs because even super early on in their relationship, I think those would be Annie's weakpoint and she'd always relax into them

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

I answered it here previously, but if I were to think of something else... I may or may not have seriously considered (and planned to some extent) a modern AU following the plot of the k-drama: Healer. Annie would be the notorious night courier, while Armin is the aspiring journalist who eventually joins the Survey Corps newspaper (Someday News) started by renowned senior Journalist Erwin Smith, so they can expose political corruption without being silenced.

On a side note I'd 10/10 recommend it! It's only 20 episodes long and the characters are a blast!

On a second side note: why did I scrap this, it sounds so good :|

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

Preferably as soon as I wake up, early in the morning. I had my best writing days preparing the word document while eating my breakfast. But on occasion, I'll stay up late writing or put down something real quick in the afternoon

but yeah MORNING!

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

To various degrees of detail, yes! I do like keeping it minimal so I don't constrict myself, but even for oneshots, I like having a bullet points outline of just the events that'll happen in 1-2 lines each. (though I very rarely do a rough first draft unless I'm desperate and resorting to the Most Dangerous Writing App)

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

I'm looking to go back to Slow and Steady with more one-shots, and here are the prompts I've already planned on using:

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

depends! oh my god does it depend! I've thrown together 4k one-shots and smut one-shots in one afternoon, but some chapters I have to force myself to just write around 400 words every day.

so:

🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?

For writing: WPS Office docs, comic sans at size 12, 0.5 line spacing between paragraphs, page color set to dark gray. (I know this sounds hyperspecific, but I can't write in any other setting)

For notes: Google Keep on my phone on dark mode with the live widget so I can write something as soon as I get an idea for it. I've written thousands of words worth of scenes for BW and other fics just on this

***

Hope this was good :D

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Caliban’s cravings are so fascinating to me. Can we get a story of when Caliban’s cravings first return? Him trying to hide them at first and maybe when Azalea is beginning to catch on?

That's so sweet of you to say! Thank you so much!

I've already talked about this in a few asks (mainly this one, this one,  this one, and these two. Major kudos to the anons who sent said asks in, btw! I've really gotta start making an emoji list so I can recognize people). But I'm happy to expand on it a bit more. Even if I do want to keep some things vague. . .

(Trigger Warnings: implied murder/death, implied cannibalism, implied violence, mentions of blood, cravings/hunger pangs, mentions of eating/drinking, implied abuse/neglect. Please let me know if I missed anything.) 

(Also, just to clarify: this snippet takes place years before Caliban and Azalea joined The Pentas Family)

___

His world is a blur thanks to the violent movement he’s fighting against. . .

Caliban’s eyes felt dry and heavy. One of them twitched as he stared into the darkness of his room. Even as he kept tossing and turning in his bed—the same one he’d had to hide under so many times before—he couldn’t seem to close them.  

For the first time in years, the house was quiet. Not calm (a place like this would never, never be calm. Not to Caliban or his sister, at least), but quiet. It had been ever since. . .

Caliban flinched badly as a long, low, sickening growl reverberated under his skin. 

. . .Or, the house was relatively quiet.

Logic insisted that the noise wasn’t as loud as it felt, that Azalea couldn’t hear it through the wall in the room next door. 

A small voice in the back of Caliban’s head chastised him for still trying to look for logic, considering exactly what he’d done. 

Caliban swallowed a lump in his throat, trying to take deep, slow breaths.

It didn’t steady him at all. In fact, it almost seemed to amplify his stomach’s demands. 

His teeth click-click-clicked against one another as he started moving his jaw up and down without knowing or meaning to. 

Caliban hadn’t even realized that he’d started shaking until he felt himself curl into the fetal position, his arms snaking around his abdomen.

As if that would do anything to drive the aching and gnawing and churning away. 

The skin is soft and warm under his teeth, tearing far too easily. . .

Several hours came and went, and Caliban found himself in the kitchen with his sister. It was a wide, open area, providing more than enough space for a much larger family to use. That luxury ultimately meant more things to clean, but that wasn’t too much of a problem right now. 

Azalea paced back and forth between the dining room and the kitchen, transferring what she and her brother had used from the table to the cabinets.

Caliban, meanwhile, stood before the sink, soap suds nearly reaching up to his elbows. He’d always found it pretty damn stupid that so many types of cutlery couldn’t be put in dishwashers, but he wasn’t about to complain.

He could barely remember the last time he’d eaten a full meal, a proper meal.  (Azalea had smuggled food to him whenever she had the chance, of course.)

Now that the two of them had free-reign of the house. . .

Both the pantry and refrigerator were decently-stocked. There was nobod—nothing to withhold any of that food from him now. 

Still, he needed to be careful with it. He had to make sure there was plenty for his sister. Aside from that, it would only last so long. 

The siblings may have learned how to properly stash any money they managed to come across. (Hell, they’d found plenty more sometime on that fateful day, when they’d entered a room they’d previously never even been able to breathe in the direction of.) But they needed to be cautious about that money, needed to use it sparingly until they figured out what the hell they could do about their circumstances. 

Caliban moved to the side as Azalea came up to the sink to soak a spare rag with soap and water. She paused, peering at him, then offered a small smile as she went to wipe down the table. Caliban smiled back. 

Earlier, they’d worked together to make a small feast. It truly seemed that Azalea had been born to cook and bake, and Caliban was eager to learn what he could. 

It’d been so. Damn. Refreshing.

Being able to just coexist with Azalea, help her, enjoy this new freedom with her. . .it’d almost been enough to distract him. 

Almost. 

But when Caliban finally turned the faucet off, when he began drying off the things he’d washed, when he took a gleaming steak knife into his hands. . .something crawled into his mind.

The blade was clean.

It shouldn’t have been clean.

It should’ve been be dripping, should’ve been slathered in red, should’ve been slicing into—

It clattered back down into the sink as Caliban’s stomach began to roar. 

Caliban ground his jaw. He almost immediately felt cold sweat begin to form on his skin as his sister froze, slowly turning to face him. 

“. . .We literally just ate,” Azalea mentioned, tilting her head, eyes filled with concern. “Are you feeling okay? Is your stomach upset?”

“I. . .” Caliban’s reply was shaky, as something in his throat was trying to pull his voice down. “I’m not sure.”

Blood gushes out, dark and crimson and rich on his tastebuds. . .

Caliban had trouble settling onto an armchair at one corner of the living room. It wasn’t uncomfortable; the leather was plush, and it seemed to give the perfect amount of support for his back.

He just wasn’t used to actually enjoying this space. If anything, this room was one that he and Azalea had typically tried to avoid. 

Speaking of Azalea: she was sitting cross-legged on the floor. She’d all but covered the coffee table in colored pencils and fine-tipped markers, and her eyes were glued to one of the adult coloring books she’d had hidden away. 

She didn’t seem to be feeling out of place or tense, but Caliban had been wrong before. 

Caliban lightly shook his head, trying to focus on the book in his lap.  

The carpet was smooth under his feet.

The carpet also still carried the smell of dish soap. It wasn’t as strong as it had been on that day, (and even then, it definitely wasn’t as strong as bleach would’ve been), but it hadn’t faded away. 

A chill raced up Caliban’s spine as he chewed at the inside of his cheek. It’d seemed impossible that he and Azalea had been able to clean the carpet so quickly. Especially with how he’d felt something stir as he’d stared at that huge, dark red stain. . .

He caught movement in his peripheral vision. He glanced at his sister, who was scanning the coffee table instead of the page she’d been working on (an abstract drawing of an octopus, which now boasted pretty blue rings along its tentacles). Her brow was furrowed in confusion; she was obviously looking for something. 

Caliban’s eyes wandered to the floor. Sure enough, he discovered a pale-gold pencil resting near one of the armchair’s legs. He reached down and plucked it up, then audibly tapped it against his book. The noise caught Azalea’s attention, and she swiveled her head to face Caliban. Her slight frustration melted into a smile as her brother handed the formerly lost pencil to her. 

“It’s healing,” she murmured. “Shouldn’t take more than a week.” 

Caliban’s own smile flickered as tilted his head at the statement.

Azalea fidgeted in place, probably wondering if she’d actually meant to say that. “Your eye, I mean.”

“. . .Oh,” Caliban replied. “Right, right.” He subconsciously raised a hand. His fingers brushed against the skin around his left eye, which was a dull shade of purple. It was still sore, but the swelling had definitely gone down. 

Although. . .well, it certainly wasn’t the first black eye Caliban had ever gotten. And even if he’d somewhat adjusted to the throbbing, stinging sensation that always came with black eyes. . .he hadn’t exactly had time to focus on the pain that followed this particular one. 

Another awful groan shuddered through his intestines. Caliban flinched, biting back a gasp.

He saw Azalea freeze, saw her slowly bring her pencil to rest against the page, saw her begin peering at the room around them. 

Caliban forced himself to stare at his book, turning the page and almost accidentally tearing it out. He shifted in the armchair, hoping that the way its leather squeaked would somehow cover up the noise.

Shut up, he repeated the words like a mantra in his head as he pressed a hand against his midsection, his nails digging in through his shirt. Shutupshutupshutupshutup!

The smell of iron (or maybe pennies?) is so strong, completely filling his nose, to the point where his eyes are nearly watering and he can feel it creeping along his brain. . .

Caliban wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he’d crept out of his bedroom, had trudged down the stairs, had been pacing back and forth between the kitchen and the living room. 

The house was dark. Like the past few nights, it also wasn’t entirely silent. 

He was careful to walk slowly, to keep his movement as muted as possible. He didn’t know why he bothered, though. 

It wasn’t like he could hear his footsteps through the cries of his stomach.

It felt like the acids were alive, and that they’d somehow formed claws. 

So how the hell could his stomach feel so empty at the same time?!

He hovered in front of a door in the corner of the pantry.

The basement was unfinished. There was no carpet down there, no insulation, no windows.

No matter what the weather outside was like, the basement was always very, very, very cold.

The basement had always been a cluttered wreck. On one hand, that made it even more unsavory than its darkness and temperature. 

On the other hand, the mess down there had helped him and Azalea to hide the body. 

Caliban stared at the doorknob. It looked smooth, polished, even. But his instincts swore that the material would drag along his skin and leave a bloody gash in his palm if he grasped it. 

That didn’t change the fact that he needed to open the door. He needed to go down to the basement. He needed to stop feeling SO GODDAMN HUNGRY DESPITE HOW HE’D FINALLY BEEN ABLE TO EAT ON HIS OWN TERMS—

The kitchen light was suddenly beaming down.

Caliban whirled around to find Azalea standing just a few feet away. Her eyes immediately drilled into his, full of stress and hurt.

“Cal,” she pronounced. “You need to tell me what’s going on. Right now.”

Caliban’s mouth opened and closed a few times. No words came out. 

“I know something’s wrong,” Azalea insisted. “I know you’re not okay, and I know it’s not just because of what happened. The only thing I don’t know is why, and I can’t just—”

“Since when have either of us ever been okay?” Caliban finally replied, voice shuddering.

“That’s not the point.” Azalea argued, taking a step closer to him. “The point is that you’re my brother and I’m your sister!” 

Another step. 

“I care about you! I want to make sure that you're safe and happy!” 

Another step.

“But I can’t do that if you’re trying to hide things from me when I’ve never hidden anything from you!” Azalea’s voice grew weak, choked-up. She stood in front of Caliban, eyes now glistening.  “You never had a problem talking to me before. And I’ve never had a problem listening. So why now?”

 “Because I’m scared, Aza!” The words forced themselves out of Caliban’s mouth. “I’m scared because I don’t understand what’s happening to me!”

“And I can find a way to help you understand it!” Azalea almost shouted. 

Eyes starting to burn, Caliban nearly yelled back, “Well, what if that leads to you being scared of me?!” 

Silence

The seconds dragged by, jeering at the two siblings. 

“Do you. . .” Azalea tried, a tidal wave of emotion crashing down on her features. “Do you not trust me anymore. . ?”

Caliban felt his heart sink. “N-no, no! I do trust you, I swear! You’re probably the only person I can ever trust!”

It’d been a miracle that she’d helped him clean up the mess.

It’d been a miracle that she hadn’t fled the house screaming.

It’d been a miracle that, after seeing him hunched over and covered in blood, she’d approached him and snapped him out of that daze.

“I’m sorry—I just—I-I-I can’t—!” Caliban hardly felt dull pain flaring in his knees as he collapsed onto the floor, tears pouring down his features. It took effort to feel Azalea wrap her arms around him, to feel himself hug her tightly. 

He could barely feel anything other than hunger.

His sister was right.

He had no choice.

“I liked it, Aza,” he confessed, his voice caught between a whisper and a sob. “I enjoyed what I did, and I’ve been starving ever since I did it! The taste was so good and it was everywhere and I’ve just been wanting more!”

And with that, Caliban waited. He waited for Azalea to turn pale. He waited for her to push herself away from him, to stand up and start running.

He waited for what felt like hours and hours.

But she never did any of those things. Instead, he saw her push her hair out of the way before she rested her head on his shoulder. Still embracing him, still drawing circles on his back. 

“. . .That’s not your fault,” Azalea finally murmured. “You had your reasons; we both know you did.” 

Even though his crying had tapered down into hiccuping, Caliban wasn’t sure how to answer. Relief flooded through him, of course, but it was still overshadowed by shock.

“We can figure this out,” Azalea promised, carefully pulling back to look her brother in the eyes. “You and me.”

Like him, her face was covered in tear stains. But Caliban didn’t see a single trace of disgust or anger or fear.

“You and me,” he echoed. 

The screaming keeps coiling inside his ears long after the thrashing eventually stops. . .

[supergoopersworld]

This post assumes you know the basics by now Part 1.

Considering which is the most viewed video on his second channel, I'll assume that my fellow sickos are up to speed with the textbook definition of what a "this shit was meant to be private" type drama looks like, so we won't be delving on what even Tom was talking about. You see, the memories of early 2020 came back to me when people started accusing Flowergothic of SH after Quinton posted his response, hence why I finally decided to start sharing my knowledge.

So, Julia (Flowergothic) decided to leak her entire Discord chat logs almost a month ago just to prove her side of the story and she shared them in multiple file formats to prove they were the real deal. By then most people had moved on and the files are fucking massive so only a sicko would even bother. Well, I'm a sicko.

I will spoil you something important: nothing disproves Julia was into Quinton and the whole "she started stalking me and wanted me to rue the day" happened on Twitter so most of what his response centres around (rejecting her started it all) isn't disproved per se. However, Quinton did lie about other stuff and lucky for you I'm here to walk you through it.

In order to make this more digestible here's a blast from the past. Julia officially started complaining openly March 22, 2022.

Let's start by talking about a big scheduling conflict. Julia was in her last semester of uni when iBinged iCarly was made, in fact about 1/4 of her messages are school related yet she kept a steady stream of project updates and talked about her obligations.

On paper she was meant to get an editing reliever buddy that was never necessary because Julia cruised through her workload like a woman possessed.

She was accepted as an editor right of the bat and one of the first complaints by Quinton was that she took his guidelines "too literally". All of this you can see by scrolling the first few pages of the PDF file. Feedback from here on is largely on the technical side. At this point I want to touch two Quinton counterarguments:

She rushed things. She would have an edit back in 2 days, he would need 2 days to fix it.

So here's Quinton expressing dissatisfaction with Julia's pace and making sure to tell her she should take her time.

Sicko Fact #1: Did you notice the pace of release of the NSU miniseries slowed down dramatically after Flowergothic left?

Did you also noticed Quinton excerpted such a tight grip on the project both the project and project files had to be the same name so he could make additional tweaks to what was sent to him? She even ran copyright checks for him.

Julia agreed to her paycheck.

Not a lie, but that wasn't her complaint rather that she was paid less for more work. Bare in mind she is credited as the editor for Season 1 in iBinged iCarly and is the sole guest editor for The End of iCarly, in layman's terms, she was the one that arranged footage whenever Quinton wasn't on screen.

She was paid less for more work, that was her complaint. And had to negotiate a raise.

Considering how long this post is already I will cover the more notable aspect of this thing in the next post.

Here's the Drive link with the chat log files: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1b3-rLmMYK7EFMFsA4aNITLKgtH6ILWeB?pli=1

[not-poignant]

🌞 🎉 and ✅ (particularly the "even if you don't mean to" part?) Also I hope you are having a gentle day!!💗

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

My preferred time is the morning, but that isn't actually the time of day I write most. I write whenever I have the energy to write. Morning. Early afternoon. Late afternoon. Early evening. Late evening. It's a mix. :D

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

Honestly this depends on several factors: The popularity of the fandom, the age of the fandom, the pairing itself (rarepair or not), how active the fandom is on average (some fandoms engage less than others) and in the case of original fic on AO3, how well it converts to income and engagement overall. From there, I never look at hits, this is a dead metric to me, I don't care how many hits a fic has. I consider comments and kudos, and secondarily, Tumblr engagement and public bookmarks, as success metrics for me personally.

Am I writing a rarepair in a dead fandom - like The Beast that Chose Its Own Bridle? If so, than about 40 kudos total throughout the lifetime of the fic and maybe 4-5 comments per chapter makes it a raging success. Am I writing a long Fae Tales story? If so, then about 1000+ kudos and around 8-14 comments per chapter makes it a success as well as slow but steady growth on the Patreon. So you can see that this is a hugely variable set of metrics. There's nothing universal for me, except that I look at comments, and I look at kudos.

It really just depends. Some of my least read fics (like Inmates) are actually some of my faves. I just know they're good and I enjoy rereading them. So that fic was successful for me. When I started writing it I assumed no one would read it, so when one person commented, I screamed happily (this was back when I was posting it on Livejournal and Fanfiction.net lmao). Pia from back then could never have imagined how things have changed since.

But yeah, it changes, a Stardew Valley fic is not a Doctrine of Labyrinths fic is not a Fae Tales AU is not Fae Tales canon re: when I consider it successful. (For example, I always expect Fae Tales AUs to outperform the canon, I generally expect most fanfic to perform on par with a Fae Tales AU unless it's Rise of the Guardians, y'all are so engaged in that fandom).

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

If it's something 'I don't mean to' have appear, I probably don't know what it is, because I don't know that it's happening? So that part is weird, lmao. I can't answer it dslkajfsda

There are A LOT of things that turn up in my fics over and over again, to the point where I actually sell my writing based on thematic consistency: It always has trauma recovery, it always has hurt/comfort, it always has character-based writing, it always has some kind of power dynamic between the MCs that almost always leads to BDSM, it always has a hopeful or happy ending.

Other things: It generally has a few problematic faves - sometimes you'll hate 'em before you love 'em. There's almost always absent / dead or abusive parents of the MCs. Sometimes all three! There's usually one or two amazing parent-type guide figures (Lija and Mikkel, Adelais, Cassandra and Vivienne, Fenwrel and Ondine, Dr Harvey in Stain, North and Eva) who are often found (or become literal) family.

There's a heavy focus on the healing power of nature re: traumatised characters (this is literally a proven thing irl, but also I'm a Druid). Characters are usually affluent to some degree (by association or directly) by the end of the story as part of the happy ending. It's almost always going to be longer than an average novel. There's usually a light-hearted character with a heart of gold who adds levity to more serious storylines (Anton, Ash, Adelais, Luridan, Kadek, Janusz, Aidhe).

Tbh there's a ton more stuff but I'm not going to put it all here. But there are definitely very predictable things that appear in my fics over and over again. Enough that I can generally say fairly reliably, 'if you like this one, you'll probably like at least some of the others' lmao.

-

From the fandom meme!

[ujunxverse]

hello viv! i doubt you remember me, but a couple years back i sent a lengthy ask to you upon reading 14 steps to a better you (angsty teen, lighthouse analogy person??? if that helps). if you do recognize me, i apologize for such a delayed response. when i first got notice of your reply i was eager to write back right away, but i felt bad to do so. i spoke of how your story had such an influence that it made me want to get back up again, but at the time i had not made much progress that i would have been satisfied to report. i wanted to talk to you as, well, a better me. 

i believe i was 16 back then, i’m 18 now and finishing up my first year of university soon. i’ve achieved and experienced a lot that junior year me would have not even dreamt of. i know i am capable of more, but considering what my state was previously, i'm glad i'm stable enough to establish such a foundation for my “adult” self. it's not a constant feeling yet, but it's a slow and steady improvement. i cannot stress how thankful i am for you and your kind words that motivated me, viv.

honestly, i think about you and your writing more than i expected. as far as i can tell, you are someone who has such immense love and care for your craft. despite having only read 2-3 of your works, your words and passion have lived subconsciously in me for years. while i do enjoy reading, i have not really read many stories in my life so it may not mean much coming from me, but to this day 14 steps is still one of the most impactful pieces of work i’ve had the pleasure of consuming. i sincerely do wish that your efforts always receive the amount of appreciation they deserve. 

your pinned post… perhaps i should be sad that you privated your previous stories, but i think i’m more proud than anything. last i recall you had plans of doing so earlier. i am glad you know your worth and are interacting with an audience who can recognize that. also if i am not mistaken, you had a magazine right? i’m sorry but i forgot its name, if you do get the time to see this could you please share the blog? i would love to support in any way that i can! i remember there was a categorization of genres into seasons which was such a beautiful concept, i hope the magazine is flourishing.

how have you been? i really hope you are doing okay and taking care in the midst of your busy life. until the next time i talk to you, i pray my admiration and support reaches you through telepathic signals. best of luck with everything!!!!!

hey anon !! sorry for getting back to you so late. i'm trying to remember, but frankly, it's been like two whole years since 14 steps initially came out on the blr back in orpheyeux, so i can't really remember much. i hope you don't take offense to this, because i'm normally the type to remember things with a photographic memory. i think a part of it, despite how nice the community i've crafted as orpheyeux was, is the fact that there were some bad things that happened in my time there, and having my work plagiarized here left a bitter taste in my mouth that tanked any form of sentiment i had for this site and my works being published here. i do remember an ask saying they had no place to comment on 14 steps as someone with a lack of experience in life, but it could be someone else.

first off, before getting into my full response, i'd like to say thank you for reaching out. it's always nice to have someone come into my inbox and tell me my work and my words had a profound effect on the trajectory of their life, and seeing that 14 steps, too, was something i wrote when i wanted something to change in my life and the stagnancy i felt, it gives me solace that, as cheesy as this sounds, i'm not the only one going through some form of individual crisis. writing has always allowed me to channel my thoughts and my feelings about whatever emotion i was going through, and i'm extremely happy that it had reached you and affected you in one way or another. it wasn't my initial aim when i wrote 14 steps, but seeing as so many readers have had their lives altered or at least learned something from jake and mc's journey, i can say i'm in some ways proud of what 14 steps had accomplished.

it's good to hear that you're doing well !! i know adolescence can be a difficult time to navigate as i've gone through many ups and downs as a teenager myself, but one thing i would say is that it gets better with time, even if things do get harder and more challenging. when i wrote 14 steps, i was still in the middle of my second year at university fresh out of the pandemic, and now, i'm due to graduate university in the summer and have been offered a spot to do my masters. creative writing had become something that i put in the backburner as i gear up to work on my research interests, and i think it will stay that way for a while given the reading and writing intensive labor required to complete a masters let alone consider a career in academia. though i rarely get praise for any of my works, i think 14 steps left a mark huge enough to have people such as yourself coming back to my now defunct blog and pseudonyms to thank me, and that's more than enough praise and appreciation to me. there's an odd, almost humane experience of wanting to be remembered, and in a sense, this tiny, niche space where my work lives on is good enough to me.

i've watched frieren recently and it completely changed my views in life, where i now believe it's better to live mundanely but with content than continue chasing after accomplishments and success, because in a sense, what you accomplish for yourself is already good enough. and good enough is all you need to keep yourself satisfied. if i'm being honest, part of why i had to let go of orpheyeux was 1) the fandom being toxic but also 2) because it was getting to my head. the statistics, likes, reblogs, praise—all of it was getting to my head and it was getting too difficult for me to keep up. i wanted to write more, but i was afraid i would let my growing audience down because my ideas were not romantic or something that had the same effect as 14 steps or welcome, which was two of the works that gained explosive popularity at the time. despite this, though, it's good to reconnect, and once again, i'm happy you reached out, truly.

yes, you're right. i've been meaning to leave for quite some time now, and i've decided to completely move to ao3. i think the lack of aesthetics has made it a bit better for me to focus my energy on writing alone, because writing on tumblr made me very conscious about banner art/design etc. and yes, indigo seasons was an old project that's now unfortunately defunct, and i do run a music magazine irl but i would like to keep my real identity separate from what i do here, if that's okay with you. since i'm graduating, i'm also stepping down from my two-year tenure as co-editor-in-chief, but if you're curious to see more of my works for the music magazine (to be honest, it's not creative writing at all, just op-eds and show reviews), then i would love to reach out privately and show you our magazine.

your words have certainly reached me the way 14 steps have reached you, and messages like these keep me wanting to write a lot, knowing that there are people out there who truly feel anything from the things i've put out. apart from graduating and preparing for grad school, nothing's going on in my life. i have a pretty stable part-time job and i plan to do an internship, and i've been thinking about my own 14 steps ahead of time.

how have you been? i hope you're doing well too, and do reach out whenever you can if you need someone to talk to. i'll always be here despite a hectic schedule, and i do enjoy long conversations such as this one.

best regards,

vivian.

[adammilligan]

what do you think midam's sex life is like? do they have preferences? how active are they? is michael similar to early-seasons castiel when he and adam meet, in the sense that he doesn't know anything about how sex works, and adam has to teach him? do they like aftercare? do they fall asleep once they're done, or take a snack break and talk?

hmmmm THESE are certainly interesting questions to ask me when i'm at work and running on three hours of sleep. let's see. sticking this under a readmore because it got a little longer than i thought lmao

i'll get it out of the way first of all that i don't think michael is like early-seasons castiel in any regard at ALL, but especially so when considering the fact that angels typically act the way they do because of the strictness of heaven's rules when it comes to following orders and the fact that. yknow. they got lobotomized into being perfect soldiers and nothing but perfect soldiers. there's a lot more to it than that obviously but i'm not going to get into it because you all know what i'm talking about. the ARCHangels are different beasts entirely. they don't get lobotomized they observe and take and do whatever they want. so between michael and raphael's constant use of human slang and actions i think it's more likely than not that michael KNOWS about sex and how sex works, it's just that he's never partaken in it because he probably viewed it as primitive and weird and beneath him lmao.

SO. with that in mind. in general i don't actually think they're all that active because of the sheer amount of shit they've been dealing with since day one of sharing the same body. because i mean it's not like they would've in the cage! that's when their whole thing was developing! then obviously everything that happened in the episodes happened and they're gonna need time to deal with that as well. but even after everything's said and done i think just as a result of who they are they wouldn't be as active as i like to joke about. michael's status as a Very Old Archangel aside i think spending a thousand years in a cage would kind of kill anyone's sex drive and i think adam would've gotten so used to finding other ways to pass the time with michael that it wouldn't really. occur to him all that much. am i making sense here what i mean is that michael is already so distant from the concept of sex and adam would've GROWN so distant to the concept of sex that it's not like they're trying to jump each other 24/7. which i guess would be considered not very active lmao.

but when they DO have sex when it comes to preferences (which i assume you mean topping and bottoming) i think they'd switch. like it would depend on the mood obviously and typically i think michael would PREFER to top just because. have you seen the guy. but i definitely do think they'd switch. that's just if they're getting it on physically though because like the concept of gracesoul sex which i've gone into before would be something else entirely and i don't think. topping or bottoming would necessarily. exist? inside of a metaphysical space like that? with the essence of their beings? but i digress. i think michael would kind of use topping as an excuse to absolutely shower adam with affection (as he likes to do) and in the same vein adam uses topping as an excuse to do the same to michael. they're incredibly gentle with each other just as a rule of thumb when they're interacting normally and i can't see that changing when they're having (physical) sex so it's not like they're going to break the bed or anything. it would generally be kind of slow and steady and sweet. i think they're the types to savor the experience instead of making it a race to the finish! they enjoy being around each other and they would enjoy being With each other in the same way.

that being said i do think adam would be the one to do impulsive things in the heat of the moment and michael would follow his lead with it (no matter who's on which side that time) and also that. yknow. just given who michael is. there would be so much body worship involved on his part. i think he'd love to give neck kisses especially and i think adam would be the type to pull his hair sometimes. because all things aside there WOULD be kind of an extra thrill in knowing you're having sex with one of the most powerful beings of all time do you get me. and when it comes to the BOTH of them i think if they heard the other say "please" at any point during sex they'd lose their minds a little.

and then when it comes to them being done i think they're definitely the types to just lay there and chill and talk for a while. it's what they do best (though again i've talked about it before but i think concerning gracesoul sex it would knock adam the fuck out and leave michael winded for like. HOURS if not days afterwards. but that's a slightly different topic lmao)! and it's mostly because i think sex is a fun activity for them more than some deep neverending desire like you'd find with other characters. so i think they'd just cuddle up to each other and chill for a while and talk about whatever's on their minds. probably joke around. maybe adam would nod off eventually but i think it would depend more on the general atmosphere of the scene than anything else.

this REALLY got. longer than i thought it would lmao. but yeah! here's some thoughts of mine