#hello poem anon

[randomprose]

“It must be wonderful to be able to do that.”

Twenty eyes blink in semi-unison, now focused on me

It doesn’t feel how it would if they were the eyes of strangers

It’s my friend

“What exactly are you referring to?”

The brush feathers delicately across the canvas

My favorite part of painting is the tiny details

I often add on and on for days after it should be done

Unlike people, paintings are ever evolving

“The shape shifting.”

The boy in the canvas doesn’t look back at me

My subjects never do

They’re afraid to look beyond the veil, to see who they truly are

I don’t blame them

“A given, that that would appeal to you.”

Its eyes settle on my painting

It always pretends to be impressed by my work

But I know such a well traveled and long lived entity must have seen so much better

“You draw that boy rather often.”

I nod absently

This peek into another world is mine to control

I get to play God here

My work will inevitably be destroyed

But first I will create them beautifully

In the image of who I wish to be

“You could call it my own form of shape shifting.”

—Poem anon.

fave line/s:

I get to play God here My work will inevitably be destroyed But first I will create them beautifully In the image of who I wish to be

[six-white-venus]

What can you do when you hate every word that comes out of your mouth with a burning passion? When nothing you say ever feels right? When all of your words feel like lies, even though they’re not?

Because they’re not, right? …right?

[bonnieshangout]

Hello Tumblr. My name is Beverly and I am quite new to this. Hope to receive a warm welcome into this new community. I am a university student in a hustle-bustle city hoping to keep my spirit and desires alive. I indulge in a lot of things and would very much like to grow them with you!

My aesthetic appeal: Cottagecore,grunge,boss girl, old money, mystic.

I love to try out new food and recipes that I won't attempt in a long time. I love to watch videos of people cook and drool over my phone because I'm hungry most of the time.

I love cute animals☺️ Dogs,cats,squirrels,parrots, bears, snakes and lots more so keep the pictures coming.

I used to be a book lover and writer. The urge to create and dive right into the magic of books is still there but I haven't dealt with my procrastination. However, I write poetry and can't wait to share with y'all.

A huge over-thinker, hopeless romantic, artsy woman, dreamy dreamer, obsessed with skin-care, can't wait to get out of school tee-hee☺️, plant lover, nail lover, love yoga and a healthy health plan, love clean men and women, erotica, amateur Spanish speaker, fascinated with crocheting, effective hair products are the real deal, nature's representative, and yep...... Thank you for having me.

[silverskye13]

and death shall have no dominion by dylan thomas

And Death Shall Have No Dominion

By Dylan Thomas, 1914 - 1953

And death shall have no dominion.

Dead men naked they shall be one

With the man in the wind and the west moon;

When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,

They shall have stars at elbow and foot;

Though they go mad they shall be sane,

Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;

Though lovers be lost love shall not;

And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.

Under the windings of the sea

They lying long shall not die windily;

Twisting on racks when sinews give way,

Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;

Faith in their hands shall snap in two,

And the unicorn evils run them through;

Split all ends up they shan't crack;

And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.

No more may gulls cry at their ears

Or waves break loud on the seashores;

Where blew a flower may a flower no more

Lift its head to the blows of the rain;

Though they be mad and dead as nails,

Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;

Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,

And death shall have no dominion.

[doodle17]

Cool, cute, sunshine sweet

You're so fun and quiet unique

I hope your day is bright with joy

And that you get to do the things you enjoy

THE RETURN OF THE KING

[thatlittlered]

would've, could've, should've | aaron hotchner

warning(s): one whole curse word, smoking, stunning amount of fluff and a little bit of action

GIF by @littlecarmine

part one

part two

author's note: Sorry for the delay, hope it was worth it! I also want to thank the sweet anon for the ask with the Robert Siken poem, which I included here. Next part will be straight-up filthy smut, so stay tuned, fellow sluts.

Follow me @MadeofLilies on Ao3 and let me know if you want to be tagged here.

-.-.-

You don’t see much of each other for the next couple of days. Aaron is on autopilot, avoiding any chance to be alone with you. The rest of the team unknowingly act as a buffer and all he has to do is not look at you during work hours, keep the door to his office shut to not hear your laughter.

It’s a relief when you and Morgan are called to testify in court for a case. You’re somewhere far away for the day, where he knows you’re safe and he can go back to pretending nothing has changed.

The problems start when he’s not being kept busy.

 How much paperwork can one person do?

The stars align oddly in his favor and he’s into calls or meetings until long after everyone else has gone home. When ten pm rolls around, he finally calls it quits but sees no point in leaving in a hurry. It’s past Jack’s bed time, it’d be cruel to wake him up now and carry him back home when tomorrow’s Sunday. If all goes well, he can pick him in the morning and they’ll get to spend the day together.

His finger is hovering over Jessica’s number when he spots your name in his call logs. It’s silly and childish, but he hasn’t thought of you in a couple of hours and God.

Deep down, he knows he’s been incredibly unfair to you. He had to. Had to tell himself it was something outside of him causing him torment. An obstacle to overcome, a distraction to ignore. He had to act as if you were forcing your way into his life in order to be able to put up walls, but what have you really done except exist near him? He is the one to blame for allowing it to grow beneath his skin; succumbing to his need for some sort of intimacy when he could have -should have- nipped this at the bud a very long time ago. He recognized it within himself the other day, when he realized he could have -should have- kissed you.

But nothing is healed with a kiss. Only new grievances arise.

It’s where you go from there that matters and he finds himself unable to guide or be guided.

Where do you go from here?

When he decides to feed his insomnia with a cup of late-night coffee, he is yet again reminded of you. So, he calls, but you don’t answer and he pours another, completely indifferent to the idea of sleep.

It’s getting too late to be here, even by his standards. He tries calling again, but, no answer. He gathers his stuff to leave and there is a horrible feeling at the pit of his stomach when he settles inside the car. It’s only eleven and you always say you never sleep this early.

Another call, this time to Emily, who miraculously, picks up.

“Hello? Hotch?”

There is a deafening buzz in the background; loud voices and music blasting.

Aaron apologizes for the late hour and tries to be discreet when he asks about you. Says he needs to go over something about a case file but you won’t answer his calls and he got worried.

“Yeah, she’s fine, she’s right here with me, but it’s a little hard to get her right now. Is it urgent?”

“Uh, no, don’t bother her. Is everyone else there too?”

“Not everyone, just the two of us, Garcia and Morgan. Do you need them as well?”

You didn’t invite him, why would you? He would have never said yes.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

“Sorry, sir, I can’t make out much with all this noise. We’re at the ‘Matter’ if you need us. I’ll tell the guys to call you as soon as they can, okay? Have a good night.”

So, he drives two miles a little before midnight to come sit outside ‘Matter’, which is apparently a very busy nightclub downtown, half a mile away from the nearest parking spot he could find.

He doesn’t really know why he came.

He can’t come in and join you. Can’t ask for you.

They probably wouldn’t even let him in while dressed like this.

It’s very unclear what the next step is.

He knows it’s pointless to call you again when you’re probably too busy dancing and drinking with a great many people who are not him. Morgan has some trouble keeping his hands to himself when he drinks.

He sits on the curb of the street, cracks open the pack of cigarettes he snack out of the car’s glove compartment, always hidden below the insurance papers. Astoundingly loud music plays every time the doors to the club open and people come out stumbling, kissing sloppily and dragging each other away.

He just wants to see you and put this horrible feeling inside him to rest.

“No fucking way.”

He jolts at the sound of your voice and throws away the cigarette, putting it out with his shoe before he turns to see you standing outside the club. You approach timidly until you can be sure it’s him and when you step closer to the streetlight, he can really see you. The clothes you could never wear to work, the shoes you apparently spend all your money on. You’re beautiful.

He can’t possibly move until you’re sat beside him. For the first time in what seems like forever, now that he’s grown so used to it, you keep a very respectable distance between your bodies.

“You didn’t have to throw it away; I already saw you and,” you pick up the abandoned carton from the sidewalk and almost laugh at how immaculate it looks just having been opened, “I have so many questions. Since when do you smoke?”

His voice is quiet, unamused.

“Almost never.”

You look at him curiously and he thinks you would make a great interrogator simply by the way you make everyone around you spill their souls out if it will satisfy you.

“Sometimes when I’m very stressed.”

You hum, “I never would have guessed that.”

He laughs to himself and looks at his hands.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing a lot of things that are not typical of me lately.”

You help yourself to a cigarette and he cups his hand over yours when the breeze makes it too hard to light up.

“Is that because of me? Am I a bad influence?”

“No. It’s me, I’m the common denominator.”

You hum again and smile at him teasingly in an attempt to lighten the mood, “Breakthrough.”

“So, this is what therapy is like?”

He wants to thank you, for always trying to make things as easy as possible for him. You open the door and difficult as it may seem, all he really has to do is walk through it.

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t smoke in session.”

“Oh good.”

You’re sitting closer again and Aaron doesn’t know how. He doesn’t think either of you moved. He keeps his eyes on the road in front of him, glances at you only from the corner of his eye. Your perfume mingles with the smoke of the cigarette and it’s all a haze to him.

“Why are you not inside?”

“I needed a breath; it was very loud and packed in there… and I finally saw your calls.”

He hums, unable to find anything else to say.

“Why are you here?

“I don’t know.”

He knows that is not a good enough of an answer.

“I always have this terrible feeling that something is going to happen to you.”

Your shoulder touches his and he can admire the smoothness of it, focus on each mark there to avoid the dreaded eye contact.

“Do you think that fear is reasonable, or is it rooted in something else?’

His eyes shut tightly, “Don’t do that, please. Don’t talk to me like I’m a subject.”

“You use your ‘agent tone’ all the time outside of work.”

His voice deepens, “I am aware.”

Heavy breathing.

“I’m sorry I did all that and then backed out at the last minute.”

“It’s alright. I think I knew you would.”

“See, that’s even worse.”

You look at his suit, the wrinkles that have formed in the shirt underneath from the hours of wear.

“Did you come here straight from the office?”

A sigh, “Yeah.”

You nod your head in understanding and move to put out what’s left of the cigarette.

“I’m alright. I’ve got the others too; they’ll take me home. You can relax now.”

“I don’t think I ever can.”

You don’t know what to say really. If what he needs is time, you can give it, but he seems undecided as well when he picks up your hand.

“I think I’m scared of what will happen once the line is crossed.”

A confession.

That, you did not expect.

“Aside from the complications at work, I just,” his hand rubs gently on the spot your watch has left its mark, “I have proved time and time again that I can’t handle any relationship beyond professionalism and once we stop being just colleagues, I will lose you completely from my life.”

“Do you think that line has not been crossed already?”

He laughs quietly.

You can both feel the bouncer looking at you and Aaron is suddenly aware of how vulnerable he is right now.

“I guess it has.”

You’re both quiet for a little while.

“I have to go back inside now, or they’ll start getting worried.”

He looks like he’s about to say something, but no words leave his mouth.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell them you were here.”

That hurt. You know it, but what else was there to say?

“Maybe tomorrow you’ll know.”

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze before you leave and he’s left staring while you go back inside.

-.-.-

A little past two, the girls drop you off in a shared cub before going their separate ways and you rush to your apartment building, only to find Aaron waiting there.

“Well, you certainly have a thing for sitting on curbs.”

He looks tired, so tired, and alone in the empty street. It’s very hard to maintain your position when he always looks this beaten down in his most tender moments. You wish to care for him, love him back into happiness but that wouldn’t be fair.

Still, you can’t help but go to him and he is relieved that you sit closer this time.

“Have you been waiting here this whole time?”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

You softly take his right hand to look at his watch. His body relaxes at the touch.

“Huh.”

“Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, but I’m a little more drunk than the last time you saw me.”

Your skin glows under the soft moonlight and he notices.

It is technically tomorrow now.

“How drunk?”

His face moves closer and you can’t help but shiver at the sudden change. His breath is warm on your face. The words come out in a whisper.

“Not that much.”

That’s all it takes.

His lips press against yours once… then twice and then… he doesn’t stop.

You always thought he’d be one to kiss carefully and with absolute purpose, just like he does everything else, but he kisses like a man on fire. He seeks to quench something deep inside of him and you provide happily. The remnants of your lip gloss tingle on his mouth, as if kissing you alone is not enough of an awakening.

It’s becoming increasingly hard to keep up with breathing when he envelops you so, and cages you in the pleasant whirl of his scent. When you break away for breath, he’s quick to capture you once more. His hands come to your face to keep you there until he’s had enough, but how he can he ever have enough of you?

He only lets you go because he has to. You’re both practically panting and he can’t decide what to do. He wants to kiss you, look at you, touch you, but it cannot all be done at once. When your own hand comes to his face just below his jawline, he melts under the touch. His eyes are sunken, his body is begging for rest, but it would not come without you.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

His voice is low and breathy when he nods.

“Yeah…”

-.-.-

You walk upstairs, hand in hand, and Aaron can see your own exhaustion is taking over. Something started with that first touch. Your bodies wish only to find comfort near each other.

His breath is warm on your neck while you open the door, his hands softly placed on your waist with the excuse of keeping you steady. When you move to take off your shoes, he is behind you again, as if tied to you with invisible thread, and holds you gently by the elbow when he sees you struggling.

You’re suddenly very aware he is in your house again. Touching you.

“Can I get you anything?”

He shakes his head no, but you’re too focused on the way his hand moves languidly up your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Do you need me to get you anything?”

He is so caring. So soft below the austere guise.

“I just need to take a shower,” you almost stumble backward and he thinks it’s the alcohol, but it might just be the feeling of his hands on your face, “I must have fifty different people’s sweat on me right now.”

“That’s okay. I’ll wait.”

His voice is soft – tired.

You turn on the lights for him in the living room and he gives a half-smile when you check on him again.

“I won’t be long.”

Once left alone, he gets to look around your house. He sees your carefully assorted nick-knacks and smiles at the framed pictures all over your bookshelves. He can’t help but notice you’ve chosen one, if not the only, photo of the team that he’s also part of.

He is important to you too.

He can see you in every corner of the room, in the books you buy and the realistic-looking-but-admittedly-fake plants sprinkled here and there for a lack of time to take care of any real ones. He can even see you in the soft material of the couch when he sits and lets his cheek touch the fabric. He has been here before in a dream, with your head in his lap.

The room is awfully quiet save for the gentle ticking of the clock on the wall and the sound of running water in the background. For a man that’s usually so good at sitting alone with his thoughts, he suddenly can’t stand it.

He knocks gently on the bathroom door and opens it slowly, only to be hit with the dizzying cloud of warm steam. Your head peeks behind the shower curtain and he can tell you got tired of standing and sat in the tub instead.

“Is it okay if I sit in here with you?”

You thought he’d sit on the toilet seat, but he crawls to the edge of the tub and sits on the bathmat with his back to you.

How close is close enough?

Now that he’s ventured, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be satisfied.

So, he closes his eyes and rests his head back on the, now warm, porcelain.

“Aaron.”

He doesn’t know if he actually fell asleep, but the water is now turned off and you’re looking at him. He realizes now, for the first time, that you’re naked behind him. Your hair and eyelashes are angelically wet, the sheen of water on your flushed skin is divine. He knows that you’d be warm if he touched you now.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

You smile at him -siren- and your hand grabs a handful of his shirt, staining it with water that reaches his body underneath and makes him shiver. You kiss him with plump wet lips and he reaches for you. His hand entangles in your hair until you’re both practically pulling at each other.

A less enamored man would have broken away just to sneak a peek at your bare skin, but he won’t. He is respectful even now, even like this.

“I should have kissed you the other day. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

It’s a whisper when his mouth leaves yours, but you catch it.

You hum, eyes glossy, “Would've, could've, should’ve.”

What matters is now.

He kisses you again – just one more time. You both feel like giddy, lovesick children.

“Can you hand me my bathrobe?”

The bathrobe is also impossibly soft to the touch and when you emerge clad in it, he thinks he’d like to hold you. The spell of the warm steam is broken outside, however, and being so close to your naked body suddenly becomes very serious.

You let him sit in your bed, still fully clothed, save for his suit jacket, and he closes his eyes again. The comforter underneath is lovely.

Is everything in this house soft?

Is this what it feels like to be loved by you?

You disappear inside the walk-in closet and reappear, now properly dressed in your pajamas. The bed dips when you sit next to him and he turns to you completely.

“I have a T-shirt you can sleep in, don’t know about pants though.”

Please. Just be here, with him.

He watches you leave, but it’s not long before you return with the aforementioned shirt. You laugh when he finally realizes he’ll have to sleep in his boxers.

“Don’t worry, I won’t take advantage of you.”

He throws a teasing look, but can’t possibly come up with a clever answer right now.

“I’ll go dry my hair and you can get dressed, alright?”

You are so gentle with your guidance that it makes him feel like a helpless child, but there’s a hidden relief at that. It’s nice; being cared for like this and there is something to be said about parallels, with you going now to do as you had done a week and a half ago in a Florida hotel and him waiting for you – on your bed.

It’s the same, but it’s different.

He hangs his work clothes carefully on the chair in the corner of your room and goes to sit on the bed, but feels too uncomfortable to climb under the covers. He knows you’d find his duality funny; how he goes from hungrily kissing you to being too embarrassed to join you in bed, even if it’s only for sleep.

You notice his stiffness when you come back in the room, but don’t say anything. It’s not exactly easy for you either, you’re just better at hiding it than he is. You choose to lead by example instead and turn off the lights before reaching for the one on your nightstand and climbing inside your bedding.

He only speaks to deflect attention from him again, “You have a TV in your room.”

“Jealous?”

He turns to look at you and you’re perched up on the plump pillows, smiling at him. Your hand reaches for his own over the comforter and you gently pull him to you.

He comes, of course.

“I don’t watch a lot of TV.”

“Of course you don’t.”

He joins you with his back on the pillows and his shoulder touching yours, but he’s still too stiff.

“What do you watch?”

“Mostly reruns of sitcoms-,” he laughs at that, “-Seinfeld.”

“Isn’t that show a thousand years old?

“You would know.”

He laughs again and you can almost make out a wounded pout on his face, but a kiss is enough of a cure. His shoulders relax and he gives in to the warmth and softness; be it the bed or you next to him. You can tell he’s barely managing to stay awake, but he still can’t let go completely. His head slumps backward again.

“Can we turn it on?”

You find the courage to caress his hair, admiring the softness of it and the discreet sprinkle of grey that you can only see up close.

“If you want.”

The quiet humming of the television and your breath in his ear, putting his mind to ease, are enough for him to finally sleep and you’re not long behind. His head is turned to the side where you are, hand tightly holding yours.

Later in the night, when you stir in your sleep, he pulls you further into him – wraps his arm around you completely and doesn’t let go.

next part

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Hello Benny! How are you doing? Did you sleep well? Be sure to have a snack if you haven’t already!

I saw in your masterlist that you are writing for Honkai Star Rail, and so I had one request - What do you think about Argenti with the Knight of Beauty! Reader? There is so little content with Argenti (especially with m!reader), and I love it so much love it!😭💞

In any case, ignore if you don't like it! I apologize for any mistakes

-🌾 anon

Argenti - Knight of Beauty Male Reader, General Fluff

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Hey 🌾wheat anon, I know it's been a super long time and you've probably already forgotten this ask, but I finally got around to doing it. You didn't really give me any details of what you wanted besides the character, so I just went with what I felt was best; so, I based the reader off of Rook Hunt a little bit. I ended up having to do some serious Argenti research since I don't play Honkai Star Rail, so I hope this is at least a little accurate. The lyrics quoted in this one are from the song “Dandelions” by Ruth B.. —Benny🐰                                                                                                               

🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼

❝'𝕮𝖆𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝕴'𝖒 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖋𝖎𝖊𝖑𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘; 𝖂𝖎𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖓 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖉 𝖇𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊, 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊~❞

. . .

💐  You and Argenti travel together as a duo, spreading the word of the ethereal beauty of your missing Aeon, Idrila. The rose knight had met you during a visit to far off planet with little to no population; it would seem that you had been stranded on the planet after going there yourself. Argenti didn't recognize you, so he assumed that you didn't belong to Honorclad to which he learned that you belonged to a smaller group called Sonnetheld.

💐  You both were interested in each other's different expressions and ways to appreciate and worship beauty. Argenti would always find himself relaxing when you recited your eloquent and vivid poems; your voice and the way you pronounced your words always filled his mind with bliss. While you, despite him being downright awful at it, found yourself appreciating whenever he tried his hand at playing the ocarina to pass the time between travels to another location.

💐  The two of you spend a lot of time alone together, so it's pretty much a given that you do just about everything together as well; eating, sleeping, sparring, bathing, etc. You and Argenti trust each other with your lives and your deepest darkest secrets. Where one of you goes the other isn't far behind.

💐  A favored bonding activity of yours is doing each other's hair. Washing it, moisturizing it, brushing or combing it, curling, braiding, twisting. Argenti has long and gorgeous hair that can be put into many different styles, though your favorite has to be very eccentric and dramatic updos that require many different pins and clips to hold it into place. The rose knight enjoys threading all kinds of flowers into the braids that he's weaved into your hair; turning your skull into a lovely boutonniere of vibrant blooms.

💐  Another activity that you and Argenti take part in is writing songs together, with your poems as the lyrics and the redhead's Aeon awful ocarina playing as the melody. You've both made songs dedicated to each other separately and came together to complete them and hear the finished product. Unlike his woodwind skills, Argenti has a beautiful singing voice, so you often make him read poems about himself and watch him flush in gratitude.

. . .

❝'𝕮𝖆𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝕴'𝖒 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖋𝖎𝖊𝖑𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘; 𝖂𝖎𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖓 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖉 𝖇𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊, 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊~❞

🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[shinobus-unbreakable-spirit]

Hello!

Could I request for some Yoriichi fluffy headcanons and a little bit of NSFW ones?

I hope you have a nice day/night!

Coming right up! :D

Yoriichi Headcanons

Fluffy with some NSFW!

Can be little spoon or big spoon depending on the situation, as long as you two are close he's happy

When it comes to days out as a couple, he likes to let you decide where you should go, and no matter how wild or implausible your suggestion is he'll make sure it happens

Absolutely loves, loves, loves giving oral. He cannot enjoy intimacy unless he knows you're pleasured and content, making him an extremely caring and sensual lover. He'll go down on you for hours with no complaints whatsoever, all he wants in the bedroom is for you to feel infinite pleasure

If you give him a blowjob, this is one of the few times you'll see him lose control. He's incredibly sensitive there and the moment your lips wrap around his cock, he bites his lip and proceeds to softly moan, gripping your hair firmly. It just blows his mind so much. He can certainly climax from a blowjob

If you have kids together, he'll be the best father. He will never lose his cool and will be extremely gentle, but still excellent at teaching your children everything they need to know. He also appreciates everything you do as a parent, and frequently makes time to show you how much he loves you be it through gifts, poetry, cuddles, lovemaking, or simply asking you what would help ease the stress of parenting and making that happen

He is a quality time sort of guy. He likes to spend almost every moment with you, as you're his whole heart; he loves you so much and, although he doesn't vocalize this often, he has no idea what he would do without you. He's very content even just sitting in silence with you, an arm protectively wrapped around you as he sharpens his sword, writes, or does something else

He has a secret talent for poetry. He writes various poems (mostly love ones) and enjoys reading them out to you with that dulcet tone of his. Understood tacitly, many of his poems are dedicated to you and inspired by his burning affection

People underestimate Yoriichi, given his unassuming disposition. This might lead to cocky assholes feeling like they can mess with you, but the second someone gives you so much as a mean glare, Yoriichi shows how formidable he is; not with violence, unless he has to, but by verbally making the person look stupid and humiliating them. He has a quick wit, and he brings it out especially to defend you

He compliments you at random times, in an endearing manner. You two will be sitting enjoying a tea, then he will stroke your cheek and say something sweet like, "You have such raw beauty, my love." The offbeat timing of his compliments shows he says these things with no premeditation, but just as he thinks of them, which is at least three times a day

I really hope you enjoyed these, anon, and that you have a wonderful day! Yoriichi loves and cares about you!

<3

[lucysarah-c]

The way I'd never survive a relationship with Levi. A relationship with him is NOT for the weak, lol. Like...I love him a whole lot, but...no.

I think his devotion and his deep love for his s/o is something we all are looking for, especially in our time rn. But damn...I'd end up crumbling.

Like...money wise, personality wise, etc.

Again, a relationship with Levi? NOT for the weak.

Hello! Haha, I just received this ask and felt a mix of amusement and conflict.

I'm always apprehensive about writing Levi too harshly in response to asks. I often think, "This anon probably wants to read about Levi doing what they're asking and maybe they need to read about it because they're having a bad day." But then I also think, "If they truly want my interpretation, I should be honest about how I view Levi as a person."

I am aware that I don't portray Levi as the most perfect persona and boyfriend, and that always makes me nervous. Lately, my blog has seen a lot of new traffic concerning "how I interpret Levi," and I’m constantly torn between giving anons what they probably want to hear to brighten their day and staying true to my thoughts.

This ask made me chuckle but also made me nervous. What if those who read my posts start to think that having Levi as a boyfriend is difficult or unenjoyable?

Levi is my favorite character, and I often think of him in terms of a poem about cats that I once read. The poem essentially suggested that "You should love a person as you love a cat. Allow them to reach out to you when they feel ready, understand their changes in mood, their personalities, and their distance. You love a cat even when they are surly because you understand that when they climb on top of you to purr and sleep on your chest, it’s because there’s no other place in the world they would rather be."

I think Levi aligns with this a lot. That’s also why it’s hard for me to write "modern AU" Levis. For me, Levi is who he is because of the situations he has endured. He's a man from a cruel society, facing high expectations and a difficult life. He's kind and lovely in his own way because he’s not only a man who has suffered greatly, but also from a time and society where therapists didn’t exist—and if they did, their "treatments" were electroshocks. He's not perfect. I dare say that probably a lot of people within the walls don't like Levi because he's not a charismatic person. We love him because we know him, but we are omnipresent readers. Normal people just hear him being blunt with words and stoic.

Levi is probably hard to deal with in many departments, as all of us are to some degree, I believe! I'm sorry if I ever wrote him too harshly. I usually try to think that I love and write Levi in love as a rescued cat: he may be surly, he may have issues, but when he's with someone, it's because he wishes to be nowhere else in this world.

Sorry for the ramble.

Love ya <3

[etheries1015]

Dear writer whose writings I love,

HEYYO. IT'S ME AGAIN. (I sent the Lilia using u as a stress relief you ask heheheha!!)

SO LIKE IMAGINE THIS (unrequited love that is actually requited love!)

You're on a "date" with Lilia to the gardens. (You wish)

And then you get to the Gardina section of the flowers and show it to him, knowing fully of what it means. (You hope, yet also don't hope he gets what's you're trying to say)

[FUN FACT: Gardenias are elegant and fragrant flowers that have long been associated with love, romance, and admiration. They are often used to express a secret or hidden love, as their sweet scent and delicate petals can be seen as a symbol of devotion and affection that is not openly expressed. The gardenia’s white or pale yellow petals are said to represent the purity and sincerity of a love that is kept hidden, while the intoxicating fragrance symbolizes the passion and intensity of the feelings that are being concealed. Gardenias are also often associated with mystery and secrecy, making them the perfect flower to symbolize a love that is kept hidden from the rest of the world. They have been used in literature and poetry for centuries to represent the hidden desires and passions of characters who cannot express their feelings openly]

SO

SSSOOOOOOO

This can go SO. MANY. WAYS.

He doesn't know and does nothing. This ends up in you making a poem about Gardina flowers to him, and he does something after that, taking the hint. (Good ending! With proposal and stuff and hehe fluff!! I love fluff)

He knows and asks you directly. (PLS GIVE THIS A GOOD ENDING. IDK HOW TO CONTINUE)

My brain is now fried again. Please expand. I will request every time my brain power suddenly shoots up. Goodbye, and see you again next time.

-🦇

Hello lovely! Yes yes, you actually revealed yourself to me after I answered that ask! Heuheu. No need to be anon! However, if that it what you prefer, I shall not convince you otherwise <3

ANYWAYS I have ALWAYS loved the notion of flowers having meanings and their beautiful poems that come in toe with their vibrant petals. It's truly a wonderful thing, I really wanna study them more. Fun fact! My favorite flower is a peony! I have a tattoo on my shoulder of a peony! ...in slue with an entire sleeve of random flowers, my tattoo artist just made up. Maybe the other arm I'll use for more structural floral... sorry for the tangent DHKFJSLDjf I love flowers. Thank you for this ask heuehueheue

Ahhhhhhh the idea of going out to a garden with Lilia...

I actually like to have this little headcannon that since Malleus is so interested in flowers and gardening, that perhaps he got that from Lilia. Flowers are our friends, after all! And what's better than making an entire garden of little friends to nourish? Along with creating a beautiful garden of roses, Malleus had delved deep into the world of floral poetry and representation.

You grab onto Lilias hand and pull him towards the back of ramshackle to show off the garden you and Malleus had placed together. Malleus was truly your wing man during this entire thing, he had vast knowledge about flowers and knew just the ones to plant In one large romantic gesture for the old fae. Malleus had landed you books and helped you study their different meanings, even taking time out of gargoyle studies club to dedicate gardening your surprise for Lilia.

"What has gotten you so eager, little bat?" Lilia chuckled, "Must truly be grand if you're so worked up like this!" You couldn't hide your excitement or giddiness as you headed towards the gate leading to the garden, a large black intricately designed gate in that perfectly suited the chicness of the dorm. Upon opening the gates, it revealed a large grandiose garden full of flowers of all sorts. Lilia's eyes widened as well as a toothy grin climbing onto his features, raising an impressed eyebrow.

"So this is what you and Malleus have been working so hard on?" He inquired, stepping forward and taking a look around, "I must say, it's rather an impressive feat! The sheer size is almost enough to rival Malleus's own rose garden back at the castle." You smiled brightly at him and skipped over to a particular patch you were proud of; Gardenias.

"These are Gardenias!" You pursed your lips as you bent over and grabbed something you had prepped before hand, taking hold of a neatly wrapped bouquet of gardenias and with a trembling hand pushing them in the arms of the fae. Lilia started slightly and took a gentle sniff of the flowers taking in their creamy sweet scent that reminded him of coconuts and peach. "They...they're for you!" You smiled.

"Oh they're lovely," Lilia said, "I presume you and Malleus are particularly proud of these ones! They bloomed wonderfully. I shall put them in my room!...oh, but I suppose they will need sunlight. Perhaps keeping them in Silvers care may be better..." You felt your heart drop and smile twitch ever so slightly. Pursing your lips you let out a dry nervous chuckle, tilting your head in awkwardness.

"I..Uh," You bit down your bottom lip, "Well, they were for you," You let out a breathy laugh.

"Of course! However I'm worried they may wilt in my care and you worked so hard! Hmm. Oh! I could put them in the lounge, so that everyone can see yours and Malleus's hard work!" You couldn't even bother to explain to him you were the one to nurture these flowers on your own upon Malleu's recommendation. He swore that Lilia would understand the meaning...it was common for fae folk to be knowledgeable on the world of flowers. Either Malleus Lied to you, which was unlikely, or Lilia was a part of the percentage that truly hadn't a clue.

You began to sweat bullets. Throughout this entire exchange, you weren't certain he understood your intentions. Or... was he purposefully deflecting the fact you had mainly meant this as a surprise for him? Was he thinking you were simply making excuses to hang out with Malleus? Or was he just that oblivious? It was rather distressing, for you already had an inkling that Lilia had not returned your feelings, and this only solidified your worries.

You began to wilt like a flower without water, your energy dying and your smiles becoming fake. You tried a few more times to hand him flowers, such as a singular rose (symbolizing love at first sight, a "one and only" in which the person you gift you give your heart to.) He insisted on taking a few more to decorate the lounge with.

This plan was failing terribly.

Finally, you let out a loud groan of frustration, pulling out a sheet of paper from your pocket with a burst of confidence and embarrassment. Your face took on a bright shade of red, pushing the letter into his chest. Lilia struggled to catch it with his hands full of flowers, eyes wide in bewilderment at this sudden display you put on. He stared in shock and confusion, unable to get a word out before you bolted out of the garden and to the dorm.

"Read that later!" You cried out.

"W-wait- what is-" He attempted to catch your attention, yet you were already out of view, leaving the fae utterly confused standing in the middle of the garden with arms full of flowers.

You threw yourself onto your bed and grasped your pillow, curling into a ball and groaning into it.

"eh? What's up with you?" Grim asked, "And what's this piece of paper?"

You sat up in a rush with wide eyes, staring at a piece of paper that you seemingly dropped from your person. You grabbed hold of it and took a look. It was the second page of the letter you had given Lilia... and undeniably the most important part. The first page detailed the history of flowers and how they have significance to them

the second page was the meanings of the flowers and why you chose them for the fae.

It was your confession.

You had forgotten to hand it to him in your flustered state.

You screamed into the pillow.

~ At Diasomnia ~

Lilia sat in the dorm lounge, reading over the page you had given him.

"Hmm...I knew flowers had meanings, but this letter seems unfinished. This is simply prefacing the history of flowers and that they hold meaning with a simple poem at the end, but the definitions they mentioned would be on the second page seem to be missing..." Lilia rubbed his head in confusion turning the paper around to find some sort of indication of continuation, Malleus walking in on the fae. Malleus flashed a mischievous smile.

"How did the visit to the garden go?" He inquired, "You seem confused rather than elated as I thought you would be..did something go ary?" He pointed out. Lilia shrugged and looked back at the tall draconic fae, tilting his head.

"I thought it was going well, (y/n) even handed me a bunch of flowers to bring back, along with this letter..." Lilia took a gander at the vase full of Gardenias and glanced back down at the letter in which stated every flower has a significant meaning.

"Malleus, could you tell me what Gardenias mean? I believe (y/n) meant to explain it to me, but the second half of this letter is missing." Malleus raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you would know?" Malleus furrowed his eyebrows, grabbing hold of the letter and skimming through its contents.

"Of course not. I like flowers of course, but I never took the time to truly study them as you did. I haven't a clue about definitions and things of the sort." The color seemed to drain from Malleus's face at realizing his mistake, before making his way to the gardenias and gently touching a petal from its bloom. He took a deep breath before giving a detailed explanation of their meaning: Passion, love romance, secrecy... Malleus explained the flower was to express a secret love that the prefect held for Lilia. Something that clearly went way over the old man's head.

Lilias's jaw was dropped to the ground, before quickly disappearing in a fog of green smoke.

He had to get the other half of that letter.

[yuri-is-online]

Ok but what if yutu finds a box full of letters and poems in yuus closet?

Their partner was out, so it was a perfect opportunity. In a week their 1 year marriage anniversary will happen, so they needed to act quick and be sneaky. They go to the closet and unbury a box full of all the letters and poems their partner has wrote throughout their years together, some even have no name onto them as they were intended to be from a secret admirer, but yuu noticed the similar handwriting.

They were going to take the box and turn into into a book, like an album of memories.

They hear the front door open. Oh no their partner is back way sooner than they expected. They hide the box into their clothes, as they're too far from the closet.

A man they've never seen before walks in. Before they can get a word out, they're blasted with two spells back to back.

One muddles their mind, the other opening a portal behind them. The shock from the blast, and them being not far off of their due date causes them to lose balance and tumble into the portal.

When their spouse returns home all they find is a rummaged closet and messy bedroom. Although they want to deny it, the evidence suggests that yuu took any funds they(yuu) were hiding and ran away.

Yes I'm also the grim overblot anon 😁 my brain is full of angsty worms and your au is just too perfect for me not to take them out on 💕

This could be read as something for any of the boys but I feel that it fits rook the most😶‍🌫️

Hello newest friend o/ I'm surprised at how many brainworms I've managed to give people, but it is very nice chatting with all of you about this. I really like this ayuu c:

I like this concept and agree that it fits Rook the best out of all of them. So much so I think I am going to steal it for his Yutu hc post. In general though I think that if Yutu found something like that it would add to the mystery of who his father is for him. Lilia! Yutu sees it as further confirmation that he was the product of an affair, Malleus! Yutu takes it as further proof that magic is real. Jade, Deuce, and Riddle's Yutus would probably be even more confused; if his dad loved Yuu this much then why isn't he here with them? While Cater, Ace, and Yutres of the the Trey Triplets would just find the letters very romantic and not think too much on it beyond that. I can't really see Leona writing letters, Idia I could see writing a digital diary of sorts but no physical letters. It's a really cute idea ;-; the correct mix of angst for this ayuu I think.

Now as for Rook thinking that Yuu left him...

The evidence suggests that yuu took any funds they were hiding and ran away. That's what whoever created this scene wants him to think. But there's no way Yuu would have been able to leave the house without him knowing unless they had a very specific sort of help. The Hunt estate has some of the highest level of security clearances in Twisted Wonderland, whoever took his spouse is someone with connections indeed. But not to worry, he got Vil back from the Isle of Woe did he not? He'll find Yuu and their child soon enough. Rook writes a detailed diary about his search, about the beauty he observes that he missed telling Yuu about.

But he doesn't find them. He doesn't find them and the real world begins to crumble around him alongside his personal one.

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

Could you make a fanfic where king Baldwin has a very obsessive fan who keeps writing poetry about him and publishing it in Jerusalem and one day he finds her ?

I’d appreciate a bit of angst , thank you lots

◇ Secret Admirer - King Baldwin x Reader: Part 1 ◇

◇ Long Fic ◇

A/N: Hello Anon, thank you for this request. I had a lot of fun with this one, it was different and I like it a lot. As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

PS: Also this has a desctiption of y/n

TW: Mentions of death/murder, Mentions of stalking

“My lord, a letter for you” the young servant boy called out softly.

Baldwin stood from his desk and took the letter from the boy's hands. “Thank you my friend” he replied, turning the letter over in his hands as the boy scurried out of the room.

Needless to say, he was confused. This was the fifteenth letter he had received that month, written on the same type of parchment, in the same type of envelope, with the same wax seal that he did not recognise. 

Baldwin sat back down at his desk and opened the letter slowly so as not to damage it. He already knew what it would be.

Just like all the others, the letters contained a single piece of parchment with a beautifully written poem on it. But not just any poem, a poem about himself.

He had not only been sent these poems, but he had also seen others about him being published in newly written books and just placed around the kingdom in general.

This came before he began receiving the letters, almost as if whoever wrote them wanted him to notice. They were always signed anonymously and never included a place of sending.

The whole ordeal had the king confused but intrigued. The poems, although slightly odd, were beautiful and very well written. They often detailed how much they admired him and longed to meet him, each one littered with compliments of not only his work, but appearance as well.

Needless to say, as confused as he was, Baldwin was truly flattered. He was determined to find just who was responsible for the beautiful work. He wanted to know who they were to show his gratitude and ask why they would write such things. He pondered this as he sat at his desk, reading the poem over and over. 

--------------

On the other side of the kingdom, y/n sat at her own desk, inside her small family home. Well, it used to be her family home. Not anymore.

She was entirely lost in her writing, as per usual. It was her escape from reality. In her writing, she could allow herself to be lost in the beauty of her king.

Baldwin was her obsession.

She adored him, even though he had no idea that she even existed. She loved him with her heart and soul. She admired him from a distance, memorized every detail of his masked face and clothed body.

Her house was decorated with horrifically realistic drawings and paintings of him. She wanted nothing more than for him to one day see her. Notice her, touch her, feel her.

She wanted him down to the bone, she wanted his heart and soul just as he had hers.

Y/n was always odd. Her family thought of her as a freak. But the tables turned on them, and now they were gone. Y/n made sure of it. She had to do it. She had no choice. They were going to accuse her of witchcraft, she could not be sentenced to death before feeling the love of her life beneath her fingertips, just once.

She could not allow that to happen.

She barely remembered it, it all seemed like an awful dream now. But one day they were there, then they were gone. All four of them. Her father, her mother, her sister and brother. But she did not need them. All she needed was her quill, her parchment, and her beautiful muse.

-------------

It was late evening when y/n set out to put her poetry up around the kingdom.

She did this often, it was the only way she could let the world see her gift. Women were not permitted to do such things like publishing work so this was the only way the world could see how she felt.

That along with the anonymous book publishings. But she was not sure if he would see that or not. Not only that, but the letters she sent to, but she did not want to send too many. Just in case they found her through where they were delivered from.

She walked around the palace, nailing parchment onto the high walls that surrounded the castle. Dodging the guards, keeping in the dark.

Staying hidden was what she was good at. Unfortunately for y/n, that night would be different.

“HEY YOU! STOP RIGHT THERE!” a voice shouted from behind her. Y/n did not hesitate to run.

She did not even turn around to see who it was, she knew it had to be a royal guard. She could hear them running after her. They were fast, but she was faster. Not being clothed in metal armor gave her the advantage. It wasn't until she rounded a corner that she was caught, coming face to face with two large guards. 

----------------

Y/n was bought into the castle in shackles. The guards pushed her to the ground, she kept her eyes on the floor the entire time, refusing to speak to anyone.

A tall man with graying hair was the one who attempted to make her speak. “Do you want to tell us what you were doing young lady?” he asked her, bending down to look her in the eyes.

She refused to look at him, her long unkempt hair hung in front of her thin face. Her large building eyes stared off to the side, just behind him. She still said nothing.

“Would you care to explain yourself to the king instead?” he offererd.

Y/n’s eyes shot up to look at him. “Why does he need to know about this? I was just putting up flyers” she lied confidently.

“You call this a flier?” the man asked, holding up one of her poems for her to see. “I think the king would like to know who his mystery stalker is after all these months” he stood up, gesturing to the guards to force her to her feet as well.

“You will be brought to the king this instant. This matter has gone on long enough and it's time that it is resolved. He can decide your fate”

------------

Y/n was placed in a holding cell underneath the castle while the man went to inform the king of her capture.

Since it was late at night, Baldwin had long since retired to his bedchambers and was currently dozing with a book open on his chest.

He was immediately jolted awake when Tiberias knocked on the wooden door. The king sat up groggily, reaching for his mask “you may enter!” he called out when his mask was concealing his face securely.

Tiberias entered the room quickly. “I am sorry to wake you my lord, but this is an urgent matter. The person who has been sending the letters has been identified as a young woman, we have her in the dungeon holding cell and she is awaiting you to decide her fate-” 

Baldwin got to his feet quickly, any lasting tiredness leaving his body instantly. “Please, take me to her at once” he ordered. 

------------

Y/n sat in the small cell, staring ahead of her at the wall. She was weighing up her options.

She could tell the truth and declare that she was the one to write the poems, allowing the odd secret to be shared to her muse or she could lie and say she was paid to put them up by someone else.

She decided on the first option.

If she were to be executed, at least she could die with the knowledge that the man she loved the very most in the world at least knew how she felt. 

Not long after this decision, she was pulled from the cell into a larger room. Still in the shackles, she was pushed to the floor and two guards stood either side of her.

Then he entered.

Baldwin was in the same room as her. She felt her heart skip a beat, but little did she know, his heart did too.

He was as anxious as he was curious to meet the person who had written to him, and now she was right in front of him. And she was oddly beautiful. In a slightly creepy way.

She had large eyes that stared up at him with admiration, but also subtle kindness too. Her long hair hung around her shoulders, slightly covering her face and she wore a slightly dirty white dress. He figured it was dirty from the cell. She was pale and a little strange, but still beautiful.

“So, my secret admirer” he chuckled.

Y/n was surprised by this. She was not sure what she was expecting. Perhaps anger, maybe even a hint of fear at her obsession, like her family felt in their last minutes.

“Yes, “ she said bluntly. Her eyes returning to their place on the ground in front of him. “I must say,” Baldwin said softly, bending down to meet her eye. “I love your work” he added after a few seconds.

Y/n looked at him with shock. She could see his bright blue eyes behind his mask, looking right at her. It was the most amazing moment of her life. She felt as if she could die a happy woman, right there and then.

“You- you do?” she stammered slightly. “Yes, very much so. Your poems are beautiful” he replied, she could have sworn he smiled slightly.

She tried her best not to blush, but she couldn't help it. The blood rose to her cheeks quicker than the grin formed on her face.

He was so close to her, crouched down just in front of her face. He was looking at her. Right at her. Telling her that he loved her work. This had to have been a dream.

“Thank you my lord” she uttered, voice barely above a whisper. The king rose to his feet slowly. “You shall remain here for the night. I would love to speak with you more in the morning”  he told her. Y/n nodded with anticipation.

She was shown to the servant chambers. As per the king's request, she would not remain in the filth of the dungeon. In his words, “she was no longer a prisoner, but a guest”.

---------------

As Baldwin settled back into his bed for the night. His mind drifted back to her. Perhaps this would be the beginning of something very worthwhile.

[ashisgreedy]

Hello! Hogwarts Legacy Fandom PSA!

I just wanted to encourage you to create anything you want no matter how big, small, or shitty you may think it is. Even one-paragraph ideas all the way to multi chapters! I don't care if its a 1 second audios, or a playlist with 3 songs! I'm talking to you.

It's a well known fact that the majority of us in this fandom are not professionals lol. We are just out here living our best life simping for fictional characters.

This post is just to encourage you to create and feel free to post it!! I know I'd love to see it and many many others would as well. I don't care if it's a half-finished wip you abandoned months ago, or a 2 sentence HC that doesn't fit with anything else you are doing.

I just want to encourage you to share your ideas and creations with us! It's not just about writing, audios, or drawing. You can create anything and share! Bracelets, poems, macaroni art I don't give a fk. Please share!!!

I see so many good takes left in Discord servers. This is tumblr, not some professional site you have to be perfect on. Share the gif! Share the doodle you did on a napkin! Share your ideas and I'm sure someone would be willing to make it a reality or just love hearing it!

I love this fandom and I'd hate for there to be some kind of glass ceiling people think they need to meet before their stuff becomes "worthy" of tumblr lol. Post your unedited fic if you can't stand editing it. Just post it!

It's not about the likes or the interactions. It's about having fun! Did you have fun making it? That's all that matters. Is it super niche and only caters to you or a select few? Post it! Go nuts!

I love yall and I hope this does encourage you! It's a fandom! You don't have to be part of some exclusive club to share your creations. Even if you ever share one thing, I am proud of you and happy to have your contribution to this fandom!

Lastly, fun fact, if you block an anon ask and look at your block list you can see who it was 😀

That is all. lol, Thank you!!!!

[hatsunevita]

give me ur favorite bkdk fics im starving i need them chapter 424 carved an endless pit of …. something empty inside of me and i need to fill it with canon slowburn way too long and possibly band au fics thank u for ur contribution

(i need help)

- anon!!

OMG HELLO. WOW.

okay honestly i haven’t read THAT many fics yet but still there are some faves

my absolute love goes to “the art of falling” by sapphicflower on ao3 and as far as i know its not finished yet BUT ITS SO GOOD I CAN’T *NOT* RECOMMEND IT. it’s a quirkless au where bakugou is in a band and deku is a songwriter and they have to work together AND THE SLOWBURN THERE IS KILLING ME ITS SOO NKMXKXXXNX

my second fav is “My Hero Academia - The Post-War Arc” by Son_of_Olympus which is uh as it is clear by the title literally the post war arc. lemme say its actually really close to canon but deku still has ofa so it can be read as an alternative ending of mha

okay this one is the funniest i’ve read srsly. “Bluebird” by EtherealBeing. it’s an au where katsuki accidentally calls wrong number (which happens to be izuku midoriya’s) and starts ranting about his day and then he realised he made a mistake but they still start chatting. im a sucker for “strangers to lovers” trope so. yeah. also deku writes poems there and this is one of the best hcs i’ve seen.

yeah i think those three are my favorites idk if u’ve read them already but i cried over EVERY one of them njsnxknx so yeah good luck

[irisbleufic]

Of all the current Devil’s Minion writers your playlist is the one I want to see. Do you have one? If not, are there particular songs you’ve been listening into to while you write? The vibe of your prose with them is hypnotizing like the short story about them in the books, it’s impressive, and does your music also inform this choice if at all?

Intense question, anon. Fourteen-year-old me fucking hyperventilated after reading the DM chapter in Queen of the Damned (me, on the floor of my bedroom at 3am because I don’t want to get caught reading this book, staring dazed at the ceiling; me, now, three weeks ago, sitting shellshocked on the sofa after watching S1 and S2 over two days as a binge; me, over two of those weeks following the binge, rereading the first half of the Chronicles and starting to see double, tilt the prism, see what happens when the narratives are overlaid and blurred), and it still feels like that. Likely my prose turning out the way it is in these stories is about 90% my giddy teenage self having access to my adult self’s writing experience to finally write this beloved pairing without fear of litigious letters (IYKYK, my fellow elder Millennials in the fandom). I don’t often love film and TV adaptations of my favorite books, but I adore this show. It’s flawlessly transformative; its improvements only make the resonances and overlaps that much more meaningful. No notes.

However, I have been listening to the same small handful of songs on repeat for 6 days as I write these pieces. I imagine they are affecting my sense of scansion at points; my writing life didn’t begin with fiction, it began with years of poetry before I ever tried prose. These tracks are as meaningful to me as poems as they are songs. It’s as good a starting point for a playlist as any; I’ll keep adding and put it together on Spotify at some point.

1. Vesuvius - Sufjan Stevens

Vesuvius, I am here

You are all I have

Fire of fire, I'm insecure

for it is all been made to plan

Though I know I will fail

I cannot be made to laugh

for in life as in death

I'd rather be burned

than be living in debt

This song was my entire first 72 hours of writing. I’m that Autistic weirdo who will listen to a single song on repeat for a month and think nothing of it. Villa of the Mysteries in Pompeii being the nexus point of their love story from beginning to end in QotD, this is everything to me; I was never going to be able to write about the show incarnation of them without integrating this location and this imagery in the most reverent love letter I know how. This is why my series title for these stories is Caldera. Volcanic crater blowout if ever I saw one; I ran with it.

2. I Forget Where We Were - Ben Howard

Hello love, my invincible friend; hello, love, the thistle and the burr. For you, I have so many words—and I, I forget where we were. I haven’t known this song for all that long in the grand scheme, but it found me via Spotify shuffle in 2022 right after something awful happened. The longing in this song hinges on one of the lovers in it waking up to something they’ve forgotten about their relationship, something precious, and I’m thrilled to finally have a fandom application for it.

3. Make You Better - The Decemberists

I sung you your twinges

I suffered you your tattle-tales

and when you broke sideways

I wanted you, I needed you, oh

to make me better

Oh, to make me better

But we're not so starry-eyed anymore

like the perfect paramour you were in your letters

And won't it all just come around to make you

let it all un-break you to the day that you met her

No excuse for this one; it does a great job of speaking for itself. Front-man Colin Meloy is one of my all-time favorite songwriters, and his work is frequently dark, creepy, and/or gothic enough in flavor that I could find a few more.

4. Song to the Siren - Elisabeth Fraser & This Mortal Coil

On the floating shipless oceans

I did all my best to smile

till your singing eyes and fingers

drew me loving to your isle

and you sang, “Sail to me,

sail to me, let me enfold you—

here I am, here I am,

waiting to hold you.”

This cover of Tim Buckley’s folk masterpiece completely transforms the vibe of the song, and in the kind of way you need for this pairing. This one is at responsible for the events and imagery in my “Still Life with Sunken Treasure.”

5. Hal - Yasmine Hamdan, Only Lovers Left Alive OST

لأ ما أقدرشي

لأ مش ممكن

لأ ما أقدرشي

لأ مش ممكن

يا عزيزة اطلعي

لأ ما أقدرشي

يا حبيبتي شرّفي

لأ ما أقدرشي

وطلعت يا ناس، مغلوبة يا ناس

يا عزيزة اتريحي

لأ ما أقدرشي

يا حبيبتي اتلحلحي

لأ ما أقدرشي

وسمعت يا ناس، مغلوبة يا ناس

لأ ما أقدرشي

لأ مش ممكن

لأ ما أقدرشي

لأ مش ممكن

لأ ما أقدرشي

لأ مش ممكن

يا عزيزة اتفرفشي

لأ ما أقدرشي

يا حبيبتي قربي

لأ ما أقدرشي

فرشنا يا ناس، مغلوبة يا ناس

يا عزيزة اقلعي

لأ ما أقدرشي

يا حبيبتي اتجرأي

لأ مش ممكن

شلحنا يا ناس، مغلوبة يا ناس

لأ ما أقدرشي

لأ مش ممكن

لأ ما أقدرشي

لأ مش ممكن

يا عزيزة اتغندريله

يا حبيبتي اتذوقيله

افهمي يا سيدي مش قادرة

وطبعا تقنعني مش واخدة

ايه يا عزيزة؟

ايه اللي إنتي عملاه ده؟

يا يا يا راجل يا هوه!

مش عيب عليك اختشي ونو

لأ ما أقدرشي

لأ مش ممكن

يا عزيزة اخلعي

لأ ما أقدرشي

يا حبيبتي اتشخلعي

لأ مش ممكن

يا خيبتي يا ناس، مغلوبة يا ناس

يا عزيزة اتبغددي

لأ ما أقدرشي

يا حبيبتي جربي

لأ ما أقدرشي

وجينا يا ناس، غلبنا يا ناس

جينا يا ناس، غلبنا يا ناس

I don’t think the Arabic justified to the correct side when I copied this, but the translation is very easy to find. I don’t speak Arabic, but honestly the English translation is dull compared to the beauty of this language. If you haven’t watched Only Lovers Left Alive, what the hell are you even doing with your vampire-loving, monster-fucking life? All the tracks on it have the right vibe for DM, really.

[librarycards]

do you have any book recs on relationship abuse? feel free to discard this question or point me elsewhere

hello anon - i read your other message to and am sending both of you much love. thanks for reaching out.

first and foremost, i am still very much a student of the literature in relationship abuse, not an expert. here are some books that may be helpful, with annotations:

Banu Khapil, The Vertical Interrogation of Strangers. Khapil interviews women from the South Asian diaspora using a set of guiding craft/storytelling questions. i found this book immensely useful for my writing, which is to say, for transmuting the unlanguagable experiences of trauma - including relationship abuse and sexual violence - and restorying them in ways that worked for me.

Eli Clare, Exile and Pride. Clare is a trans survivor of CSA, and writes about the intersection of disability and survivorship.

Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha, Care Work: Dreaming Disability Justice, and their other work. They're a decorated writer, performer, and activist deeply invested in a disability justice + femme-of-color oriented approach to community care, and speak frankly and often about intimate partner violence, CSA, and the aftermath, as well as TJ-based approaches.

I have not read Beyond Survival, but tentatively recommend taking a look, alongside my friend's astute commentary about the book's metatext.

Maggie Smith, You Could Make this Place Beautiful. Smith is a brilliant poet, and has written this memoir about her divorce. As we dig deeper, we uncover a context of abuse, exploitation, infidelity, and dangerous envy on the part of her husband; and watch her carve a life beyond him.

Carmen Maria Machado, In the Dream House. A classic in the category of abuse memoir, and for good reason. Machado's insights into the onion of abuse culture in which we currently live –– ownership rhetorics around children, the subjugation of women, the silence around abuse by and of queer women –– are crucial.

Erin Elizabeth Smith, Down. My dear friend and colleague's book of poems that speak to the insidious process of grooming and its downstream effects, as well as the process of finding one's freedom.

And a few works of fiction to offer solidarity & new ways of thinking in this time:

Sayaka Murata, Earthlings

Tiffany D Jackson, Grown

Dorothy Allison, Bastard Out of Carolina

Ruth Ozeki, My Year of Meats

Tiffany McDaniel, Betty

i hope this is helpful. i don't necessarily know if these are the kinds of narratives your friend needs rn, but these are the ones that have helped me begin coming to terms with my own experiences (i have a long way to go) and have afforded me the chance to think critically about relationship dynamics and cultures of abuse that refuse to absolve abusers of responsibility for their behavior.