#how do i break language barriers to say “can i make your stuff more on model”

[unknownersirius]

redraw of a pic found on pixiv; wanted to draw it more on model because wedding alts for xdive default 3 would've been fun

permission not retrieved for it though...

[coltcassidyy]

Starfire inspired male reader x mark and his variants 🙏🙏🙏🙏

Absolutely cause this is fire. Probably gonna write head canons for this cause I suck

Also the only ever starfire related media I’ve consumed is um teen titans go so bear with me here.

Tw : some nsfw? Or suggestiveness. A little tiny bit of rough stuff (mentions of possessiveness, manhandling)

Starfire inspired male reader x mark and his variants

Mainstream mark

At first he was kinda … weirded out by you. It was odd, a random person from a random planet just coming to earth for no reason, barely accustomed to the human culture (ok man)

But you grew on him, and fast. Sometimes he thinks it’s hilarious, how you talk, how you act, how you ... just, behave in general, sometimes he considers taunting you but that’s too cruel

Fucking died laughing at your grammar it’s so funny to him

Sometimes finds it kinda hard to keep up with your optimism. He loves you for it, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes he gets genuinely confused on how you can see the bright side of everything. It never fails to cheer him up whenever he’s down

LOVES how possessive you can be at times. It makes him feel loved, and with everything that’s happened to him, he doesn’t mind if the reminder is a little rough

He likes teaching you how to cook too. Mark’s a mama’s boy, and his mama’s an amazing cook. He shows you most of her recipes, even some he’s made himself (even though they aren’t as good as his mom’s, you still praise him to the moon and back). He likes how intimate cooking together can be, and he loves teaching you things about humans and their customs

DEFINITELY made you read seance dog, or some of his other comics. Sometimes he gets a little excited and geeks out to you about comics, sometimes comparing the both of you to his favorite comic couples, even one time getting the idea to make a comic based on the both of you. But ultimately, and unfortunately, his hands were a bit full.

He 100% taught you how to kiss and it was 100% awkward and giggly and silly fun fun

Sinister mark

Oh this guy hated you bruh

Genuinely wanted to rip his eyes out when he first met you. Got him on some tweaker shit

But upon your second interaction (more so, him watching you fight a villain with less than / equal to strength than you, and winning), got him bricked like a mad man

Went home and jerked his shit I promise you

Also thinks your language (?) barrier is hilarious. But unlike mainstream mark, he isn’t afraid to be mean about it. Just straight up mocks you sometimes. He thinks that because of your speech pattern that you’re dumber than him, less than him and that gets him going

Gets him going. To his bedroom so he can jerk off. Get it

Sometimes he says or does shit to intentionally piss you off just cause it gets a kick out of him watching you try to convey anger with that ‘silly accent’

Bruh’s just a dick

Can you tell sinister mark isn’t my favorite

Full mask mark ( I came here to find mom and bring her back with me )

His heart stopped when he first saw you. He Thought (knew) you where the prettiest boy he has ever had the fortune to lay his eyes upon

He’d bring you little gifts under the guise of ‘teaching you human culture’. Things like bringing you flowers ( “humans do this for one another to express gratitude” ), little snacks that he knows you like ( “this is an example of how humans show each other that they care about one another’s well being, by bringing them food, nutrients” ), or even occasionally one of his sweaters or shirts ( “this is to show I trust you with my belongings” ), hoping you’ll return the favor.

This man is a yearner, a lover. Before the both of you were even romantically involved, he’d come flying to your window and begging for attention after every fight like a kicked puppy (I mean, it’s not too far off).

So soft, so gentle with you like he thinks you’ll break if he handles you too rough.

Unlike the other marks, he doesn’t think you’re stupid for your accent. He thinks it’s beautiful and unique, and on a particularly good day, he’s telling you how much he loves your voice.

Sometimes he sits you down and makes you talk to him about your day purely because he loves your accent so much.

He lets you take control the first time you two have sex. He tries to teach you and talk you through it, but it’s hard to understand what he’s saying when he’s whimpering and moaning between syllables. But you aren’t complaining! The sound is music to your ears.

Straight up GOONED when he saw you fight for the first time. Seeing how tough you are, and how capable you are in meanings of self-defense and attack— it made him feel 100x more safe around you.

Viltrumite mark

At first, he only saw you as a compatible mate. A way to grow the viltrumite empire.

But boy, he fell in love. And he fell hard.

Being a viltrumite, and knowing nothing about foreign culture, especially Tamarian, it was a struggle for him to show affection towards you at first.

But he grew, and he learned. From longing ( and kinda creepy ) stares and brief touches, to sweet kisses that linger warmth for hours on end and gentle words of reassurance and love. Gentle, in public, at least

When the two of you are alone is when he can really prove his love to you.

Sex with him is downright filthy— messy. He’s a viltrumite, he has high stamina, and he’s cumming as many times as he sees fit.

Even if you can’t biologically get pregnant, it doesn’t stop him from trying. What’s a man for hoping?

He’s pressing your thighs down to the bed and thrusting in you like there’s no tomorrow, muttering filth in your ear about how he longs to see you carrying his young— how pretty you’d look with a little bump in your tummy, how warm and soft and absolutely fucking delicious you are and how he’s so thankful to have claimed you when he had the chance.

Kinda like full mask mark, he’s a lover. Like I said earlier, he might be less lovey-dovey in public, but you have to trust that after he learns how, he’s showering you in affection

It’s constant praise, little gifts he gets you that he knows remind you of Tamaran, sometimes even having your planet’s traditional cultural meals cooked up.

He’s kinda stupid though. At one point he tried to get you involved in like some ‘proper English’ class thingy and you took it as an insult and you locked yourself in the bathroom for a little. Quite hilarious

(( sorry this was kinda ass and I didn’t do a lot of variants. If you like this, I can make a part 2 ))

[nightwngz]

Hiya! May I request a Hal Jordan with a shy fem or gn reader that he wants to bring out of their shell? Can be fluff or smut, I like both :3 Thank you so much! I’m glad you love Hal as much as I do!

BLUSHING !

hal jordan x fem!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. . . fluff. A cliché because I like them. Hal bothers the reader because she blushes very often. Age gap? (9/10 years). Unrealistic and fanciful references to the operation of what is probably a military aircraft, try to ignore them to make the fantasy more enjoyable. Kisses.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲. . . I enjoyed writing this request. I was getting a bit tired of the constant smut stuff, so I wrote this as a refreshing break from that. I hope you enjoy it. <3

Throughout their lives, many people have had a friend who used to be completely shy and introverted. That person you had to speak for because they couldn't say more than two words without getting nervous. Unfortunately, you were that person, and Dick Grayson was the best friend of the Titans who rushed to your rescue when you were forced to socialize.

On a mission alongside the Justice League, you couldn't help but feel intimidated. They were all the greatest heroes in the world, the epitome of heroism that you aspired to become. In comparison, you were a rookie with little experience. Even Dick, who was almost the same age as you, often had much more experience. In this regard, you couldn't help but feel an intense sense of nervousness that wouldn't let you keep your composure.

You stayed behind Dick and Kory throughout the entire meeting, trying to blend in. You feared that at any moment you might be forced to step forward and say something, so you just stayed behind the couple until you had to return to the tower.

— Any questions about the plan? — Dick concluded, crossing his arms.

— Just one. — Said an unfamiliar voice. — Is the new recruit hiding behind you coming to say hello?

Quickly, your cheeks flushed intensely. This was what you feared: being forced to introduce yourself when all you wanted was to stay in your space behind everyone, unnoticed.

With your head down, your cheeks flushed, and your nerves on edge, you leaned forward to answer as best you could.

— H-hello.

Once the guys moved away, you could briefly see that it had been Green Lantern who had dared to ask if he could say hello. Barely had you responded to him when a bold smile spread across his face, making you feel much more flushed than before.

— Well... — Dick congratulated you quietly as he positioned himself again as a barrier, covering you. —Does anyone have any doubts about the plan?

You kept thinking about Green Lantern in the coming days, occasionally while hugging the pillow. You thought he was attractive, but his flirtatious demeanor could be intimidating, even more so than Batman's, and that's considering you had only exchanged a word with him.

When you thought about it properly, you felt overwhelmed by the questionable age difference. He could easily be up to 10 years older than you, but that couldn't stop you from being attracted to him. However, if just saying hello made you so nervous, how were you supposed to flirt with an older man? You were pathetic.

When you returned to the Watchtower to complete a mission, he stood next to you and looked you up and down. You were incredibly surprised by the height difference between the two of you.

When you noticed his presence watching you, your cheeks flushed a deep red. He just chuckled with a hint of tenderness, which made you feel even more embarrassed.

— You blush easily, don't you? — He asked you kindly. — How cute.

You couldn't answer, the words got stuck in your throat. You tried to make your cheeks stop burning, but they only grew redder. You wanted to run and hide, but you didn't have the courage, so you just stood there.

— You don't have to be ashamed, honey. I don't bite. Not all the time, of course — He joked.

A strand of hair fell across your face, obstructing your view, but you didn't notice until Hal's hand brushed it aside, tucking it behind your ear. You dared to glance at him for a second; he was too handsome to assume he was flirting instead of just being friendly.

— I…

— What did you say, honey? I can't hear you when you mumble. — He smiled at you.

Finally, you started to listen to Dick giving his speech about the mission for the Titans and the league, but you could only think about Hal. It was the only thing you could think about during the two-hour meeting.

He was incredibly outgoing compared to you. Maybe that was one of the reasons he was so attractive: his confidence, his charm, and how outgoing he was. You hadn't talked to him much, just twice, but you were drawn to his energy, and you just wanted to know what it would be like to be with someone like that, but not anyone, just him.

Your mind wandered into practically unreal romantic fantasies. Perhaps it was obvious that, due to past experiences, you had little confidence in love and that's why you hoped that he would be unique among others. However, you would hit yourself on the head with your own fist when you remembered that he probably wasn't even interested in you.

Idiot, idiot, idiot. You felt like an idiot.

Furthermore, it was most likely that once that mission was over, Hal Jordan wouldn't hear from you again until the Titans were needed again. So maybe, it was perhaps naive to think or hope to run into him somewhere outside of work. What started as shyness turned into a huge ball of limitations trying to convince you that feeling attraction was a very bad idea. However, you kept blushing three times as much as usual every time you saw him, every single time!

Your conversations between you began to flow more naturally. Hal, being the flatterer and flirt that he is, did everything he could to bring you out of your shell. In particular, he had developed an obsession with making you blush, mentioning everything from simple things like how beautiful you were when you blushed to more vulgar things, but still eliciting that feeling of attraction in you.

One day, you were fortunate enough to be completely alone in some area of the base. Since everything was located in space, you were lucky to see the stars from a better position. They looked so close that you thought you could pick them up with your fingers.

— Have you ever traveled by plane? — he asked, standing in the doorway, admiring how fascinated you were watching the stellar spectacle.

— Several times. These are some of the advantages Dick has as Batman's son.

He smiled, approaching you and extending his hand for you to take.

— Come with me.

You followed him blindly, taking his hand. It wasn't long before both of you were on land, more precisely in a city called 'Coast City', right in front of 'Ferris Aircraft', where Hal stopped and removed the ring from his finger to tuck it inside his pocket. Everything was starting to get more confusing with each step.

— Hal... — You murmured with a blush. — What does that mean? I told you, I've flown in an airplane before.

— But you’ve never flown with me.

That's his line. The most memorable phrase that anyone who has spent time with him has heard him say. It made you feel special, even though deep down you knew you weren't. But flying with him excited you so much that it didn't matter that you weren't the first to go with him.

After bribing the security guard at the entrance with the excuse, "Do it for the beautiful lady," you were both in the air. You marveled at the view of the night sky from the co-pilot's window, feeling the adrenaline rush through your veins from the speed, which made you even more excited. Perhaps it was this that made you smile from ear to ear, as you had never done before. Your fingers danced to the rhythm of your companion's excitement.

— How is it possible that everything seems more exciting from up here? — You asked him, completely amused by the experience.

— How is it possible that I had to take you on a tour of the sky to make you lose your shyness?

In a hurried impulse, you grabbed Hal by the chin to turn his face towards you until you could see his eyes, and without much thought, you pressed your lips against his. It was a swift motion, but you kissed him intensely until it was necessary to let go so he could focus back on the road.

— Maybe the adrenaline is giving me the confidence to do whatever it takes — you said, but a few seconds later you blushed. — I'm not sure how long that will last.

Quickly, he moved his fingers to a bold red button in the center of the control panel labeled "Autopilot”. Then he settled into his seat, and you leaned back against the armrest. He was very close to you, watching you with those bright brown eyes you loved so much.

— Then we should make the most of every minute, right?

Your cheeks flushed as usual, which made him smile. He leaned down to your neck and kissed it with great devotion, making you tingle. Your hands ran down his back, caressing his aviator jacket, the one you once dreamed of wearing when he had the desire to lend it to you, infused with his scent.

Minutes later, he kissed your lips. He caressed them with his own, exploring you entirely, leaving no corner untested. His lips felt moist and soft, just as you had imagined they would. His minty breath slid down your throat as Hal rejoiced that your lips tasted like cherry lip gloss, delicious and addictive.

It was not only the first time you kissing inside a plane in the middle of the sky, leaning back in the co-pilot's seat, but it was also the first time you found yourself in this situation. For a moment, as his fingers pressed against your thigh, you wondered if you were doing the right thing or if you should tell him to stop and land. But honestly, everything seemed easier from up there: with Hal Jordan at your feet and a starry sky around you, it was easy to feel like you were in control.

— Have I told you how cute you are when you're not afraid of anything?

It was the first time you had gone this far with someone, but you didn't want to stop. Your blush and embarrassment wouldn't be able to defeat you this time.

[coulsonlives]

Unpopular opinion time.

I've never liked these things, but someone sent me this and I finally gotta rant.

The writer who got these comments thought this commenter (and let's be honest, it was probably a kid) was calling them a "piece of shit". Multiple times.

And they were so confused.

Y'all. Please say what you mean. Spell it out. This isn't twitter, you don't have to shorten every single word.

Tone indicators are niche. If not niche, they're a generational thing that people in their 10s and early 20s somehow assume everyone else is gonna know. But there are so many tone indicators to commit to memory. Most people aren't going to have the time, want to make the effort, or could have memory issues that keep them from memorizing all these things, and it gets even harder because the rules are so inconsistent in the first place.

What do I mean? Well:

"/hj" is an abbreviation of two words. And it means "half joking". So this means all tone indicators are abbreviations, right? Nope. "/pos" is just a single word, "positive". It's not, in fact, an abbreviation that means "piece of shit".

Or "point of sale". Or any other abbreviation you would think.

In other words: just because you know a few tone indicators, that doesn't mean you can infer what another one means. Is it an abbreviation? Just the beginning of a single word? You don't know. You gotta go out of your way to look it up online. It kinda defeats the purpose of tone indicators, which is to streamline things and prevent confusion.

Neurodivergent? Find it helpful or fun to label your sentences? Has your social circle learned them all? Okay. But please, please reconsider doing this with random strangers online. You don't know their age, you don't know what spaces they frequent, you don't know anything about them. More often than not, it's just gonna lead to confusion. And the big one:

It's not as popular outside your friend groups or demographic as you think.

We throw around shibboleths, specific insults and phrases and jokes, with our friends all the time. If a person jokingly tells their best friend they're going to smack them, the context is pretty different from telling their sister. You gotta understand that your context =/= everyone else's context. You're not the first group to invent "pos" as a shorthand. It's used for a lot of stuff. People are going to contextualize it differently because it's not clear enough to break through that contextual barrier as-is. Especially if, when you remove the tone indicator, the sentence alone sounds almost hostile, or even just ambiguous. Adding /pos onto an ambiguous sentence, to someone unfamiliar with tone indicators, can easily tip it into "this person sounds like they're insulting me" territory.

And it's different from slang. Even my parents know what "based" means. That's because that stuff comes up in everyday conversation, and it can be used verbally (making use of expression and body language and tone of voice to cement the intention), and in writing. It's not an internet-only shorthand like tone indicators are.

I'm not saying this to discourage people from commenting. But I am trying to make a point about how avoidable the situation in the screenshot is. My friends and I see so many posts about these "odd letter things" on fanfiction and AO3 forums because authors don't understand what they had received. They opened up their comments and felt uneasy instead of excited. I've been there too, the person didn't even use a / in front of them.

And it's really frustrating. A little situational awareness would go a long way.

[freezerbnuuy]

As creatives, we need to remember that our supporters are not 24/7 commenting, validation-giving machines, they’re human beings like us. Things like reblogs are one or two clicks at most, so they're super easy to give people, or likes or other single-click support. I am not talking about easier methods of support. Some support, like commenting, requires a little more effort and time that people aren't necessarily going to have to spare.

The same way we may have to delay further content / not reply to comments we get because we’re tired, busy, depressed, anxious, low spoons, neurodivergent, don’t know what to say, and so on… people who consume content get the exact same problems as we do. Much like with us, they can inhibit their ability to give us comments and other forms of detailed support / feedback.

Some people also worry about various things like forgetting story elements, their comments not being detailed enough, language barriers. misinterpreting something, etc. And yeah, you may not care about these things, but they aren't mind-readers. They don't know that you won't get mad if they do these things.

This is something I see in the fanfiction circle rather than our own circle, but I feel it’s worth mentioning - I feel like there’s a lot of positivity for creators in terms of validating not having the time or energy to interact with supporters or to post content or work on WIPs and such, but more and more pressure on supporters to give detailed feedback 24/7 and constantly accusing people of making excuses when they say they're shy or anxious or don't know what to say - and the reality is that they are going to have the same things we have holding us back, holding them back at times. You are not the only person in the world who's tired and mentally ill, after all.

It's healthy to want a level of validation, and it's not a bad thing to have thoughts about wishing you had more of a following or more attention - I don't think it's even a bad thing to be upset about it, so long as you aren't telling people to kill themselves over it or anything... but you also have to face the likelihood that you are never going to get the amount of validation on your work that you want or think you deserve deep down because your expectations will likely rise with increasing readership/interaction.

The trouble with these attitudes is that your expectations will change but the feelings of wanting to be seen more won't. You get 3 followers, you wish you had 5. You get 5 followers, you wish you had 10 and so on. It's a nasty little loop.

Also think of how your current supporters feel when they're writing you all these comments and then you say it's not enough. Kind of a kick in the teeth, and they have feelings too. It sucks to supporters when they give you what you want, but what THEY have given you isn’t good enough.

I have bad irrational attention-seeking and jealousy problems deep down but I work through them. They are irrational and I need to tell them to shut the fuck up constantly. When I get feelings of 'why don't I have more of a following?' in terms of my story, I remind myself that I have 4 people that have kept up with my stuff and supported me and commented since day one 3 years ago of me starting this project. People stuck with me for THAT LONG and still try to say something even if they are busy, and that's an amazing thing.

You have to learn either of three things: 1) to try and push on even when engagement is low , 2) take a break until you feel better or 3) weighing up the situation. Is writing this thing going to be fun even if there's not enough support? If so, is it a good idea to shelve the project and try and do something more personally fulfilling?

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

love bites, love bleeds

pairing: re6 chris x reader

cw: p in v (unprotected! wrap it before you tap it, folks!), mentions of blood, medical stuff, death, needles, mention of piers :(, brief mentions of body and weight, angsty sex

summary: very vague about how you met chris in fic (but imagining reader was experimented on in china during the events of re6, and is saved by chris), you patch up each other's wounds and then have sex

a/n: in my angsty era (always, mentally, this is what happens when i "write for myself"), also i played re6 not even that long ago but i straight up forget half of what happens so hopefully this makes sense still, and yes, title after the def leppard song 'love bites' (which oddly enough reminds me of my irl father, but we're going to ignore that bc it slaps)

wc: 2.7k

taglist | ko-fi | masterlist

I feel sorry for all the men who died believing in you.

Piers, I feel sorry, too. Chris sighed, fist hitting the wall softer than the last time. 

“I’m sorry. I feel like it’s my fault,” you say.

“It’s not.”

“If you hadn’t stopped to help me, you could’ve-”

“Don’t. This is the job. We’re supposed to protect people.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. He was right, at least in theory, the BSAA’s mission is to stop bio-terrorism, and the agents who go into the field know that they might not come back, but it doesn’t make their lives disposable. They were just as valuable as you. It could’ve been you, maybe should’ve been. Chris lost the last member of his team to save you, a woman he doesn’t even know. 

Once he calmed down a bit, finally taking a seat next to you, you held out your hand, unsure of its use, and said, “I know I’m not… anyone to you, but I owe you my life and if I can do anything to help, I will.”

“Thank you,” he said, grabbing your hand in acknowledgment, “I appreciate your kindness.”

He let go of your hand and stood up. 

“Chris?” You said. 

“Yeah?”

“I meant what I said. I know you’re more experienced in these things than I am, and I don’t know how much help I can be, but at the very least, if you want someone to talk to, I’m here.”

He smiled, small, but real. “Me too,” he said.

You couldn’t tell if it was just a courtesy, but nonetheless, you accepted. 

“We should get out of here,” he said, “Get to some place safer. We can get patched up while we wait for evac to come.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

He held out his hand to help you up and you took it like a promise, a token of friendship. 

Staying in Lanshaing was not an option. Chris was able to get you both to Beijing where it was safer. You found a place to stay the night in a tourist-friendly area, since neither of you spoke any dialect of Chinese. As it turned out, Chinese McDonald’s is different from American McDonald's and quite tasty, especially after not eating for at least 24 hours. Its hours are similar to that of the operating hours in America, though, which was convenient. 

You assumed the language barrier would not be as much of a problem since most of the people in the city spoke quite a bit of English, but somehow your words got lost in translation and you ended up in a hotel room with one bed, rather than two. With all the hotel staff had gone through that day, you felt it would be rude to complain and ask for another room. Chris agreed. All you both wanted was sleep. You’d sleep on the floor if you had to. 

“How about we wash up a bit and then patch you up?”

You stood up—or tried to—limping towards the bathroom to shower. 

“You need help walking?”

“Do you mind?” you asked, holding onto the wall to keep yourself steady. 

“It’s not a problem,” he said, swiftly making his way to your rescue. He let you put your weight on him. He didn’t even break a sweat, and taking one look at his muscular physique, it made sense. You barely weighed anything to him. Especially since you’d been surviving off scraps for the last few weeks.

“Are you able to shower on your own?” he asked. 

“I think so.” Really, you didn’t think so, you just hoped so, feeling awful about the thought of Chris having to wash your naked body after all he’d done for you. Guilt flowed through your veins along with whatever they’d injected you with to stop the infection that tried to take over your body. You didn’t need shame to accompany it. You felt like a middle-schooler again, scrutinizing your acne in the mirror, except the marks on your body were gashes from claws and bruises from a fall you barely survived.

“Okay. I’ll wait out here for you.”

You shut the door, but didn’t lock it, preparing for what you knew was inevitable. You slipped on the tile, knocking over the shampoo and conditioner and making a ruckus. 

“Are you okay?” Chris called, somewhat panicked. 

Hearing you whimper in pain, he opened the door. 

“I’m sorry for barging in, but-”

“It’s okay,” you said with tears in your eyes, “I’m sorry I’m basically helpless on my own.”

Chris helped you up, trying not to touch—or even look—at the most intimate parts of your body. 

“It’s okay to need help. I shouldn’t have let you go in here alone. I just wanted you to have some privacy, but I think I made the wrong call.”

He left out the ‘as usual’ part of the statement, but you could hear it in his tone. He’d lost so many men, some he couldn’t recall the names and faces of, that you were a consolation prize – not even a prize, really, saving your life was something that allowed him to pretend it was worth the sacrifice. You knew, counting the numbers, that you were not worth the sacrifice.

“It’s okay. I hope it’s not too awkward for you.”

“No, no, with the things I’ve seen, a naked woman is not even close to the most gruesome.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be an insult.”

You tried not to let yourself get flustered. But what else was there to feel? You swore you saw a hint of attraction peek through the grief in his eyes.

“How about I hold you up while you scrub yourself down?”

“Sounds good.”

Your team effort was successful. You were much cleaner than before. Chris grabbed you a towel and wrapped you in it before walking you back into the bedroom to get you patched up. 

“Do you not want to shower first?” you asked.

“No, my mission is to get you to safety, so you’re my priority.”

You felt guilty, but knew Chris well enough by now—even though you’d only met him hours ago—to know that he wouldn’t back down on this one, so you didn’t argue. He refused to acknowledge that his stubbornness was his fatal flaw.

He grabbed an antiseptic and a cloth and said, “This is probably going to hurt a bit, but it’ll just be for a second.”

“Okay,” you said, though you knew your wavering tone made your nerves known. 

He pressed the towel to your skin, being as gentle as possible, but it stung. You winced, unable to control your reaction to the stinging pain.

“You’re doing great,” he reassured you, and it should have gone to your brain or your wounds or your heart, anywhere else than where you felt it. Between your legs.  

Chris wrapped your wounds in gauze and gave you over-the-counter painkillers, the best he could manage. 

Chris was able to shower on his own, and you couldn’t help but be a bit jealous that he got to see you naked, and you didn’t get to see him in the same state. 

You waited for him to come back, sprawled out on the soft duvet, still wearing your towel when he returned. 

“Do you need help treating those wounds?” you asked.

“Not sure. I’m going to try to do it myself, but I’ll let you know.”

“Okay. I’ll be right here. I’ll turn away, though, for privacy.”

“Appreciate it.”

You could hear him grunting in frustration, trying to patch himself up. 

“Are you okay?”

“Any chance you can help me? I’ve got most of it done. There’s just a spot on my back that I can’t reach.”

“Yeah, of course. Mind if I turn around?”

“Yeah, go ahead. I’ve got underwear on, so you don’t have to see anything too graphic.”

“I don’t think looking at a naked man would scare me, but this is probably less awkward.”

He directed you to the spot on his back in question, and you helped him bandage it. 

“Do you have a medical background?”

“No. Why?”

“You’re pretty good at this,” he said as you finished up.

“Thanks. I think it’s all the years I spent taking care of kids. They get a lot of boo-boos.”

“Are you a mom?”

“No, no way, not ready for that yet. I’ve just had jobs as a nanny and a teacher.”

“Saving the world one boo-boo at a time.”

“Well, it’s a little bit easier with them. You just put a bandaid on it and kiss it all better.”

“If only you could kiss it all better.”

“I can try.”

He laughed. “You’re welcome to give it a shot.”

You couldn’t tell if he was flirting back or joking in a friendly manner, but you gave him a kiss over his bandage regardless.

“All better?” you asked. 

“A little, but if you could hand me the Advil, that’d be great.”

You obliged with his request, handing him the bottle. He took two down his through without any liquids to wash it down.

“Do you have any extra clothes?” you asked.

“Unfortunately, no. Do you?”

“No.”

“They might have robes somewhere in here… or we can try to wash your other clothes. It might take awhile, though.”

You sighed. “I think my underwear is the only thing without blood on it.”

Ironic, you thought, considering how often your underwear was the only bloody article on your person. Finally, a pair was spared. 

“Did you leave it in the bathroom?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I was going to go get it for you.”

“Oh, thanks.”

You were a little bit nervous about the idea of Chris holding your used panties, but this was a unique scenario. He returned with a pink thong, which he handed to you, clearly trying not to touch it too much. 

“You act like it’s a biohazard. It’s just panties.”

“I’m not afraid of your panties. I just wanted to be respectful.”

But, Chris, would it really be so disrespectful if you just-? 

You slipped on your underwear casually with a ‘thank you’ thrown his way. 

You were already in the sheets when he came to bed. He climbed in hesitantly, making sure to keep an appropriate distance between the two of you. There could only be so much distance, though, when Chris took up such a significant portion of the bed—he’s a large man, nothing he can do about it. 

You found yourself getting closer to him, until you were breathing in the same air, mouths nearly touching. He captured your lips in a kiss. And you accepted it like a gift. 

“Tell me when to stop,” he said.

“I don’t want you to stop. I wanna forget about everything right now.”

Me, too, he thought.

“Fuck me until I forget,” you said. Fuck me until I forget the fluorescent lights of the lab, fuck me until I forget the man’s face when he tied me down, fuck me until I forget the prick of needles and the smell of death.

Chris laid there, silent, mouth moving, but unable to form words. One of his hands cupped your cheek and the other trailed down your arm—respectfully. You didn’t want it respectfully. You hooked one of your legs between his, entangling yourself while you prompted him to come closer. I want you on top of me. I want your body to encase mine. I want to feel small, weightless for a moment. Fuck me until I forget.

When his hands wrapped around your waist, he noticed how much of you he could fit in only two hands. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. Still too respectful. 

“Very. I wouldn’t have asked for something I don’t want.”

He mumbled an affirmation into your neck. He was already kissing you. You felt a scrape of teeth against your skin and received an apology when you gasped. “Sorry. Got carried away.”

“No,” you said, “I want more.”

“I don’t want to leave marks on you.”

“I want you to.” Cover the ones I already have. Fuck me until I forget.

You made the orders in bed. He nipped and sucked at the flesh on your neck and collarbone until you got antsy and pushed his head lower. 

“Relax,” he said. “Do that again and I’ll pin you down.”

“Don’t tempt me.” 

His breath was warm against your skin when he laughed. The sensation trailed down to your breasts. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, flicked his tongue over it, while he used his thumb to play with the other one. The soft suction of his lips had you writhing against the sheets—it was the only thing you can do to avoid moaning. The language barrier didn’t mean shit when it came to sex noises.

Soon, Chris pressed one finger into you, then two. 

You hadn’t shaved in a bit—it wasn’t necessary, nor possible, really, in the past week or so. “Sorry I-” But you were cut off by your own moan when Chris’ lips latched onto your clit. You forgot about the embarrassment you felt over the hair that was growing back when you felt Chris laugh into your core when you moaned. That was far more embarrassing. He came up for air and lazily ran his fingers up and down your folds. 

“Stop teasing me and fuck me already.”

Chris scoffed and stripped himself of his underwear. “Thought I was being nice by getting you wet enough before I fuck you.”

Looking down at your naked body, before lust took over his mind entirely, reason stepped in. 

“Shit—uh, do you have a-”

“I don’t want one anyway.” I want to be full of something other than poison and its antidote.

“Fuck, okay.” He took a sharp inhale of breath. A nagging voice in the back of his brain told him this was a terrible decision, but he was just a man being led by his dick. 

Chris was pushing 40, he hadn’t completely lost his sex drive but he wasn’t a horny teen anymore. It had been a while since he’d been this hard. His dick twitched when he attempted the first thrust inside you, making the head of his cock rub against your clit.

All sex is rough sex when you’re injured. You couldn’t do anything fancier than missionary, but when Chris grabbed your ankles and wrapped your legs around his hips so he could fuck you deeper, you thought you might pass out – for all the right reasons. He sat back on his knees so you could see the bulge in your tummy with every thrust. His tip was pressed firm against your cervix as his palm was on your abdomen. You choked out a sob, all words had left your mind.

Chris cradled your head as he increased the pace of his thrusts, so that your head didn’t hit the headboard, which knocked against the wall behind it. Fuck me until I forget meant temporarily. He wasn’t going to leave you concussed. He knew what amnesia felt like and all it meant was reliving the horrors you’d forgotten.

You’d bled and been bandaged. The pain had mostly subsided, and whatever was left- you cried it all out while you were being pounded into the mattress.

Your screams were echoes from that morning. “Help me!” turned into “Fuck me!”. “Please, I need you, fuck—oh my god—I’m coming” you overwrote the pain with pleasure and the meaning of it all changed. All the panting, groaning, cries of each other’s names, his arms wrapped around your fragile frame as he carried you out into the sunshine before the explosion. The relief and then the realization.

The pounding of your heart at a record rate was reassurance that you were alive. You placed your hand on his chest to make sure he was real and this wasn’t really the afterlife, despite feeling like heaven. You’re alive. Fuck me until I forget everything except for your name, except for your warmth, except for the smell of sex. Shaking and sweating in the corner of a burning building, his steady hands lifting your tiny body. Trembling legs as your orgasm approached in the comfort of a hotel bed in Beijing. You screamed his name to let everyone know of the man who saved your life.

You held each other in grateful silence.

[feminist-furby-freak]

about this post of yours:

https://www.tumblr.com/feminist-furby-freak/741545317484347392/even-from-the-same-sources-nhs-and-cdc-mens?source=share

why are TIMs not advocating for "people w prostates" and "ppl w testicles" language too? cuz isn't that also "misgendering"? (maybe im misunderstanding the point of ur post though. like I get that they call "ppl w cervixes" inclusivity, and by them not doing it w men too, it's a double standard. is it abt controlling women, and how we identify ourselves as a group? I don't fully understand what their goal is for this "inclusivity" to be one way?

again, maybe im j misunderstanding the point of your post but I don't get -- if its abt being inclusive of misgendering -- it doesn't apply to both?

or is it not directly TIMs and instead like cis-identified males only caring abt using "inclusive" language when it doesn't interfere w what they want to do (call themselves men too and not "ppl w prostates")?

it j feels weird being yelled at all day (I'm exaggerating ofc) abt girldick, so why would TIM be okay w other stuff being j called men? (I'm assuming they are not okay w it, but I see it doesn't matter practically as people are still saying men and then "ppl w cervixes")

sorry for the long ask!! thanks for your help!

Ding ding ding. Yes this is a lesser discussed point. The double standard is proof that it is not about being invalidated or inclusivity. TIMs know that they are men and know that “men should be screened for prostrate cancer” applies to them. They whine about everything from not being included in period campaigns to individual lesbians not letting them rape her. They don’t complain about being included in men’s health because they don’t actually care abt inclusivity they just want to insert themelsves into women’s spaces. Not to mention, they have never had barriers to healthcare because of their sex so they don’t care. Removing the word women from medical language is about further breaking down the category and meaning of “women” and making it harder for us to organize and talk about our issues. That’s it.

TIMs hate the idea that there are some (now, very few) spaces and resources that are not and will never be accessible to them. The last remaining one is gynecology and obstetrics. That is why they have this campaign against “Women’s Health” as a field. As someone pursuing graduate education in the field yeah my degree is still called Women’s Health and Midwifery but in most academic spaces we do this stupid dance around language. My undergraduate women’s health journal changed to “gender minority to health” and said I couldn’t use a picture of a uterus with my article about childbirth because it’s exclusive. This is actually why I left. In a country where more women die every year from complications of birth, “activists” are campaigning to make it harder to discuss and research women’s healthcare. Soon it will be practically impossible to talk about women’s health at all. A few years ago when the gender movement had a shred of common sense the rhetoric was include trans women in everything except for women’s health because obviously that doesn’t apply to them. Unless people start speaking up in a few years they will probably rename the discipline entirely. TIMs are now showing up to OBGYN offices/clinics expecting to have their “neos” treated because “it’s practically the same.” I can assure you they are not and regular women’s health providers do not have training to provide care for those surgical creations. Anyway that’s my rant.

[monstersinthecosmos]

I have no confidence writing smut, so, smut writing advice?

HELLO yes of course, writing smut is my favorite hobby lol. 🥹🥹

I’m gonna break this into two sections, because what I’m about to say up top is more important (to me LOL) so I wanna lead with it, and if you’re still with me by the end I’ll discuss a couple technical things that help me a lot personally.

But first thing I wanna say, and I’m a broken record because I say this literally every time anyone asks me about writing, my 100% absolute Number One Rule is :

Write what you want to read. 

And when it comes to writing smut, what that means is: DO YOU THINK IT’S HOT? IS THIS A DYNAMIC YOU WANT TO SEE EXPLORED? DO YOU WANT THE CHARACTER TO GET OFF IN THIS SPECIFIC WAY????

Because something that I think a lot of fic writers struggle with, especially breaking into smut, is we have shyness about it. And like, it doesn’t matter how polished your fic is, it doesn’t matter if it’s the most gorgeous prose and most satisfying character arc���when you’re writing smut, you have to ask: Does this make me horny? Is this an idea that I find horny? Can I approach it both bravely (by admitting I thought of it in the first place) and sincerely (knowing that people might jerk off to it without judging them)? You absolutely cannot be afraid to share this idea that you had, and I think that’s baked into a lot of us. I think it’s pretty common in our varying cultures and it can feel taboo and vulnerable to talk about. And honestly like, no matter what else you worry about in the writing itself, that first hurdle really is just being brave enough to write it down at all, and if it’s something you want to share or post you have to build on that, as well.

A lot of writing advice out there focuses on like technical things and language and prose and tbh, that stuff doesn’t really matter to me. (I do have a few things I’ll share at the end though!) Like, I think we can all learn and there’s no harm in thinking about our technical style, but I also think that we can’t hold ourselves back just because we don’t feel ready. You have to practice, and no one peaks on the first try. And I think there’s a lot of elitism (even ableism, classism, & racism/xenophobia) in snobby writing circles about skill and language, when I really think that storytelling is so much about being able to communicate. If you can communicate your idea, it doesn’t matter how polished it is. It’s not a contest. 

I’ve read some incredible smut fics that were the SLOPPIEST writing I’ve ever seen in my life and I still admired the IDEAS so much. The writer communicated ideas to me and the filthiest kinks I ever saw in my life, so I didn’t care that they weren’t doing line breaks for new speakers, I didn’t care about the run-on sentences, I didn’t care about the constant tense switches. 

So I say all this to say that like, all writing takes some confidence, some bravery, SHARING IT CAN BE SCARY, but like, YOU GOTTA LOL. The way out is through, babe!!! And it will get easier with practice and repetition, but I really do believe that it takes bravery at ANY level. And I think if we all didn’t have some little voice inside telling us that we could get better, we would have no interest in getting better, and the moment you become OVER confident is when your work stagnates. Like, I’ve been writing & sharing fanfic since I was like 13 years old and I still get really anxious every time I post something! I still find flaws in my writing and I still have goals I’m trying to meet! So you gotta start somewhere, and it doesn’t matter if you’re not polished and perfect. What matters is that you start. And I don’t think it makes a difference if it’s a smut fic or not, like all writing needs this bravery, but I think sometimes there’s that extra barrier with smut because people get squeamish about it.

But like your writing, and your VOICE, is not just the words you’re using and your prose and your sense of style; it’s your IDEAS. It’s your sensibility! It’s the lens you have! Your worldview! Things about characters that you might notice because of your background, that someone else might not notice! So like, marinate in your IDEAS and think again “What would I want to read?” because that’s your TASTE, and that’s your voice. And when it’s time to write smut, you don’t need to make it formulaic to some fandom trope if it’s not sincere. If you don’t like reading about prep and foreplay — DON’T WRITE IT. That’s your take, it’s your taste! That’s your voice !!! 

At every point of your story keep asking “Is this what I would want to read?” And if it’s not, don’t do it!!!! 

So I mean. I think that’s very wishy washy and it’s sort of a non-answer, but I don’t think anything else matters until you conquer that part. At least, that’s how it was for me!!!! And since you asked ME, and this is *my* experience, aka my voice, my take, etc, that’s the answer. If you asked other smut writers they’d likely say something different!

But I do have a few technical things I can advise on, so that’s the second half of this. 

And ALSO in between these two things I also want to mention some GENERAL STUFF that I have written about, because aside from blah blah YER VOICE (qotd!movie tough cookie quote), my other biggest writing advice is like, having the discipline to actually write LOL. And if you’re neurodivergent like I am it kinda helps to like figure out what works personally for you; I listed a bunch of stuff that works for ME in these posts but if one size fit all we wouldn’t be neurodivergent LOL. So like before you can even WRITE you have to like allow yourself time and space to write or it’s never gonna get done in the first place. So here's some other posts I've written in the past and I apologize if I've repeated myself lol --

On burnout & writer's block ADHD Writing Tips!

On Editing! (but really on outlining bc if you outline you won't have to edit so hard!)

OKAY OKAY OKAY sorry for the preamble, here’s some more points:

1. READ SMUT! TAKE NOTES!

“Write what you want to read!” I said, but ! What do you like to read? Read some smut, figure out what you like! Figure out what you don’t like! I have a laundry list of stuff I don’t like, so I try to avoid repeating it in my fics. Learning what not to do is just as important. 

Literally I started doing a thing when I was hitting some walls with smut writing where I copy & pasted some of my fav smut fics into a new document and I just started like, highlighting things that I found effective while I was reading, so that I could kinda study it and see what it had in common. And it helped me figure out what I like! Because sometimes reading it kinda like nebulous or you’re just trying to nut or whatever and don’t really think about stuff like that HAHA so it made me think more deeply about like “oh I enjoy when we mention our feelings” “I enjoy sensory details” etc. So that makes me think about the way I would want to write, ie: copious amounts of feelings and sensory details. 

2. INVISIBLE WORDS & FIRST DRAFT VOCAB

There’s certain words that become invisible in porn, the way people’s names do. It’s the same way people commonly get squeamish about saying a character’s name over and over and wind up using cheesy epithets for no narrative reason lol. Same for words like “cock” “hole” “nipple” “pussy” etc. I think there’s one or two words for the basic parts and it depends a lot on your own preference, like maybe you like the word “cunt” more than “pussy” or you prefer “dick” to “cock”. Make those decisions!

But do NOT get squeamish about using that word over and over. The reader does not care. I guarantee you have read smut fics where you didn’t even notice. It’s an invisible word.  (I s2g go ctrl+f on your fav smut fics to see how many times the author says “cock” you’ll be amazed lol) 

Because when you start overcomplicating it, and start using cheesy floral analogies or something, people notice that! If you’re getting desperate and squeamish to mix up your genital vocab, someone will notice you saying “tight ring of muscle” but won’t notice you saying “hole”. It’s the type of thing that makes the reader stop and go “oh no lol”. AT LEAST, IT DOES FOR ME, SO I DO NOT WRITE THAT WAY. 

Not to say that you can’t pick like, a handful of words you like! I usually rotate a handful of dick words but like, it’s just words I don’t mind, but I don’t go out of my way to say something unique about a fucking penis because the person reading is trying to jerk off and it’s just not necessary. 

On the other hand, I do believe it’s good to mix up sensory and action words. I try not to use the same verb more than once every few paragraphs, so I’ll mix up words like fuck/thrust/plunge/rail. Etc. Also words like heated/blistering/burning. Again, don't go so crazy that you sound bizarre because people WILL notice when it's becoming unnatural, but mixing up the rest of your vocab helps the cadence, I think, which I will always suggest in general for writing. Try not to be too repetitive. But I promise you can say "cock" as many times as you want, it's invisible, no one will care.

Don’t get too stressed about your vocabulary on your first draft, though. I really recommend just banging out the first draft as it comes to you and stay in the zone because you’ll notice stuff like that when you (or your beta if you use one) read it to edit. But thesaurus.com is your friend and you literally can google like “words for writing erotica” and you’ll find tons of lists!!! 

3. SEX POSITION BETA READ

I really really really suggest on your reread for edits to do a SPECIFIC run through JUST to check everyone’s positions and parts. Nothing takes me out of reading a scene faster than someone on their back and suddenly they’re on their knees, or someone’s limbs being somewhere that don’t make sense. After you’ve worried about all the other stuff you’re checking, just go back and look one more time for stuff like this, because it’s so easy to miss, especially when you’re worrying about hunting for typos lol. 

4. PLAN THE CHOREOGRAPHY AND WRITE AN OUTLINE

Do you think I don’t outline my smut scenes? YOU’RE WRONG! 

I have a certain way I like to outline, and like, I know outlining isn’t for everyone!, (and I linked a post talking about it above). Anyway, your fic outline might look like 

-beginning -middle -smut scene -end

Even if you don't outline the whole fic, I find that it really helps to just sketch out what you want the scene to be like so that you have a reference to work from. 

For example, maybe you get to "smut scene" and expand it to:

- they make out on the couch - “I really wanna fuck you right now” - oral  - move to the bedroom - start in missionary - flip the bottom over to do from behind

Etc !!! Do whatever you want. But I think planning those steps out kinda helps to visualize what you want the scene to be, and when you start writing you can take it a point at a time.

And BE PATIENT!!!! 

There’s no reason to rush through. And again you gotta ask like, what would you want to read? Do you like when there’s a lot of attention given on prep? On foreplay? DO YOU HATE WHEN THERE’S TOO MUCH PREP? This is all very subjective and you have to make those decisions. Don’t feel like you need to squash in a sex ed lesson to your porn scene if you don’t want to. OR DO IT, IF YOU DO WANT TO! Personally, I don’t really like ~sexposition~ where I feel like the author is ticking off a bunch of boxes so that Tumblr won’t get mad at them. I don’t want to feel like I’m in a sex ed class. I don’t care if they’re not wearing condoms, I don’t care whether or not you tell me if they showered, I don’t care if anyone douches first. Look, it’s porn lol. 

And for some folks, those details are hot! It’s part of the RITUAL, baby! So INCLUDE THAT if it’s what you like! But this is all so intuitive and subjective; just do whatever you want! It’s your story! You’re in charge!

But I think like doing that planning beforehand can be really helpful when it's time to get down to it because it gives you a guide, and it helps stretch the scene out. I don't rush through scenes when I have an outline, because it forces me to stop and think about each step and give each step its own space. I think sometimes people rush through their smut scenes, which especially gives me blue balls if it was a slow burn, like again thinking about what I would want to read—if I get slow burned I want it to be WORTH IT. I want them to FUCK for like EVER once the dam breaks. 

Another thing, regarding choreography LOL, and this isn’t for everyone!!!, but if you’re someone who isn’t repulsed by watching porn, check porn videos for reference!!! I do this frequently LOL especially bc most of my ships have size differences LOL so sometimes I need to know if certain positions work, like, can they still kiss in this position, etc. It helps me to look at real people. Artists use references, too, so writers are allowed to! 

Do NOT feel pressured to look up IRL porn if that grosses you out LOL but it’s a tool that’s available if you’re into that! I do it all the time. I even can tell you specific videos that I based fics on HAHA. And it can help when you get stuck, if you're not sure how you want to choreograph, literally just watch a video and describe what you're seeing.

5. DON’T FORGET SENSORY STUFF

Not just the sexy parts, but like. What does the blanket feel like? Are they cold? Is the position uncomfortable? Are they getting sweaty?

I like when people tell me stuff like this!!!! I wanna know!!!!! 

I don’t want to just read “They were fucked over the arm of the couch”, I wanna read “The cushion was scratchy on their knees as they were bent over the arm of the couch”.  Tell me that stuff!!! It’s immersive!!! 

6. MAKE IT WEIGH ENOUGH

This goes towards being patient, too, but, think about like, what’s the ratio you want in your story of plot:smut. And it’s okay to have any combination of this, it depends what you feel like writing and what’s the story you’re trying to tell. Because a story could be ALL SMUT, like a PWP, or it could be a sprawling epic with a teeny little smut scene as a treat. But make that decision and try to be intentional.

I don’t like to think about my work in terms of word counts, like I never aim to make the smut scene a certain numbers of k’s or whatever, because I think forcing myself into those boxes is going to make the work insincere, but if you wrote an outline or at least know all the points you want to hit, you can start working through those points and it’ll get said when it gets said. 

But for arguments sake, if you wanna write smut, but you wanna give it a little setup, think about it like, do you want it to be 3k of setup for a 500 word blowjob? Or is it a 500 word intro for a shameless smut PWP? Is it equal? Is the smut and plot intertwined??? Completely up to you, but I think you should decide stuff like that before you start the scene, just so that you have a roadmap of how you want it to go and what you want the reading experience to be. When you’re in the mood to read smut, do you need to bond with all the plot and feeling before you’re interested? Or do you like to just jump in? And once you get to the smut, do you want to spend time with it or should it burn out real fast? 

And don’t get me wrong, because you can like all of those things! We all contain multitudes. I’ve written all combinations !!! LOL. So it also has to serve the story you’re trying to tell. What’s the goal here? What’s the smut for? Is the smut the whole story? The main event? A subplot? Decide that, and be patient when you get to writing it, and don’t rush through it, and make sure you say everything you want to say. Make it weigh enough in your story! 

7. ADD SOME CHARACTER EMOTIONS AND 🔥THE SYMBOLISMS🔥 IF YOU WANT TO

This last bit is just me personally so like, take it or leave it LOL, but personally I REALLY love porn with feelings, and I love hurt/comfort especially when the comfort is SEX LOL. If that’s not you, PLEASE IGNORE, YOU’RE AT THE END OF THE ROAD, THANKS FOR STOPPING BY.

If this IS you, think about stuff like this, too:

Are there kinks in your story? Do they align in some way with the character arc in the story? Is your main character feeling vulnerable and needs to be comforted in a specific way? Are they overwhelmed with making decisions so they want to be dominated so that they can turn off? 

Does the smut dynamic mirror the plot of the story in some way? 

Are the characters using sex to resolve an interpersonal problem? Will this bring them closer? Will it create confusion?

Does the character use sex to deflect from their actual feelings, and are they not completely present emotionally??? 

I like to think about stuff like this!! I think it can really add an extra layer to smut fics that make them SO DELIGHTFUL to me, so personally I always try to infuse this into my own writing. :) I want it to hurt! I want us to think about their feelings! I want to ask what does sex do for the character, how does it move the story, how does it change them??????? 

And stuff like this doesn’t have to be confusing and nebulous, you know? Like you’re the one writing it LOL, just make that decision!!! 

AND IF YOU’RE WRITING AN OUTLINE YOU CAN LEAVE YOURSELF NOTES. Like 

- they make out on the couch (character A is nervous) - “I really wanna fuck you right now” - oral  (character B worries they’re gonna catch feelings)  - move to the bedroom - start in missionary - flip the bottom over to do from behind (character A doesn’t want to look into character B’s face anymore because it feels too intimate) 

And that way you can kind remember to mention stuff like that and keep reminding us of everyone’s feelings.

Anyway okay this is like 3k of fucking RAMBLING, I hope something in here was useful! I think all writing advice is so subjective, it might be so catered to me personally that it doesn’t apply to anybody else LOL, so take what helps and leave the rest!! :D

[itslouisan]

Well, short post on Urahara as a vocaloid fan

Okay so, I said how I believe Urahara is a vocaloid fan in my last post, so I thought why can't I elaborate? Hell maybe expand it to what I think other characters would listen to

Urahara:

• He'd like Miku, Vflower, Fukase, Len and Kaito songs.

• His first ever vocaloid song would be strobe light, world is mine, triple baka or rosary pale; (even though I'm sure there's others songs he'd like and I'll talk about it in a second)

• He'd love the idea of virtual singers, probably nerding out to ANYONE about how he thought it was a great technology for musicians who didn't want to expose themselves, were beginners or just wanted to experiment something new, and how he thought this source could be the future of the music industry or even idol industry, having so much potential to evolve and change (which he was correct)

• He would probably try his best to go to a magic mirai show, would get the light sticks, everything.

• About producers, I think he'd be into Kikuo, Materu, Wowoka, Kanaria, Aira, Pinocchio, Akka and Deco 27 (perhaps Ichika too), but there's millions of producers, and since I'm not fluent in japanese, I can more easily list songs than the producers unfortunately since searching about the producers takes time and has a language barrier, specially considering vocaloid is all over the place and in theory everyone who makes music using vocaloid, even covers and small stuff, could be a producer, so ehhhh-

• Collects figures. I think he would be more into the complex figures and looks rather than the prize ones that are simpler

Some examples of figures I think Kisuke would like:

Songs I think Kisuke would relate/like more than others:

1- Strobe Light

An underrated song, in my interpretation of strobe light, it talks about breaking the routine, a girl who's so stuck in it she craves for something new but doesn't have the courage of trying. At the same time could talk about the line between life blurring and becoming gray, boring, with nothing interesting easily, it talks about how everyone around you seems to move on while you're stuck in a point of your life trying to change and try, still people move on, die, give up, and you can't do anything about it, yourself wanting to give up and feeling lost.

My take is that Kisuke would like it since he'd find it in his early months of exile, feeling lost, that everyone moved on, that he'd have to fight to adapt and survive in this new life, together with guilt of his friends being stuck with him now and losing their lives due to his own mistakes. He'd be stuck in a lifeless hopeless situation and routine, trying hard to break free but unable to, after all the situation wouldn't allow him to. He'd crave for freedom, for giving everyone comfort and rest, yet he couldn't rest, stop, live comfortably for a long time, everything blurring out, I think he'd listen to it a lot in his first MP3 player.

2- Cinderella

Okay urayoru moment, in my view, Cinderella is about 2 people leaving everything behind, their lives, their expectations, just wanting to be with each other and trusting that despite the odds of their situation they can be together and happy having each other's company even in dark times with a great love and trust to change their lifes

WHICH IS SO KISUKE AND YORUICHI??? Yoruichi giving away her status, her expectations as a member of the Shihōin clan, her old life, everything to save her friends BUT SPECIALLY Kisuke, trusting that he could pull it off and make a better life for them.

3- love trial

A song about someone who had such a terrible experience in love and relationships, that lost the trust completely in others, judging a partner who had previously liked and had affection for, and in the first place trying not to warm up to them and liking them again.

Another urayoru take, because we all agree Kisuke has trust issues, but I say maybe he always liked Yoruichi, but, because of his issues, when Yoruichi WAS ready to show and give him affection, he wasn't ready in the first couple of weeks or months because of previous events in his love life and life in general (which I hc Kisuke never got the handle of emotional romantic relationships and his first time doing sex with someone was terrible so yup, poor thing) but eventually melting this resolve and accepting he wanted to be happy with her.

4- Plus boy

OKAY HEAR ME OUT, he IS a pervert, no matter what you think, SO A SONG LIKE THAT FROM LEN? Hell he eats it up, plus, plus boy is about a teen boy (or teens in general) and the first signs of sexual attraction and leaving the childhood innocence of stuff, I hc Kisuke became more perverted around 14 years old, so it matches. Plus it's fire.

5- Copy cat

So, Kisuke definitely can't get the handle of social interactions and social cues, I view him as the nerd cast out kid, so, I imagine due to my hc of him having autism, he learned with time to mask all his "undesirable" and "unlikeable" traits that pushed people off, taking this facade for so long he copied the behaviors of other kids, teens, colleagues, liked people, viewing himself as someone with no essence or real personality, that is, he said "fuck it" at some point stopping the masking traits but still having personas, which is progress I guess when we're talking about Kisuke and the fact Shinigami are ageless so this could take centuries of evolution :v

Honorable mention:

In one of the asks kon made, we can see the door of Kisuke's room in the shōten, which translated to "Kisuke's castle", FIGHT ME BUT THIS DOOR DEFINITELY BLASTED WORLD IS MINE INSIDE THERE SOME POINT AND HAD LED LIGHTS CHANGING COLORS TO IT, WEARING A PRETTY DRESS AND CROW.

[demure2]

Blood is Thicker Than Wine _ ONE

> BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WINE [MASTERLIST]

— 1930s au

— yandere neighbor!chanyeol x reader || ft. best friend!sehun

— genre: angst, suggestive

— warnings: language, alcohol use, cigarette/substance use, mental illness, watching from afar, anxiety, gun, blood, older fella chanyeol

— word count: 3.1k

— note: this story has been in my drive for 3 years, even tho this is the first piece on my account. i even had a timeline at the bottom of my draft to make sure war dates and stuff lined up hehe. it's O.K. if this doesn't do well since i'm writing for fun, but i'm happy i got at least part one of this out! then i can finally put this series to rest. i’m sorry that this kinda introductory part doesn’t have many interactions with chanyeol yet. i want to accurately convey the reader’s relationship with sehun before i make it fall apart :)

Girls like you loathe compliance but act it, anyway. You go against rules and you wear two faces, but you’re still compliant because nobody knows. Nobody suspects a thing, and you’ll keep it that way.

There’s not much to it, really: keep your papers in neat stacks, your dollars in even neater stacks, and your mouth shut. It’s a commitment, but it's applicable to the art of both compliance and not. That’s how this town runs. Girls like you are compliant.

Lately, alcohol traffic has been wedging tension into champagne bottles ready to pop, like faulty cork stoppers. Tenfold, and you’ve seen it. Tons of progeny craft succumbing to the paradigm of unrelentless violations of law, but you swore to never break the rules. That includes even the unspoken ones, like knowing to not mess with the neighborhood weirdo, Mr. Park.

Technically, you were just helping your best friend Sehun deliver night mail. It’s part of his job. 

“What a hound,” Sehun pants, steadying himself by gripping the fabric layering over your shoulder with calloused hands. Orphically, his brown irises are suddenly void of any liveliness. He’s exasperated, pupils fitfully blown out wide, the onyx barrier warped in various ways. Ways that make him look wild, more unimaginably feral than the manor overgrown with vines and rusted trellises in front of you.

 “I gummed up the works on this one,” he coos, lowly. Sehun’s arm parts from your shoulder to clutch his heart, breath hitching. He shudders, even in the cooling night zephyr. “Guess your momma was right all along,” he breathes. Mimicking a high-pitched voice, “stop hanging out with Sehun! He’s a neighborhood no-good nick who delivers mail for a few cents!”

You grin, wide. “So?”

Sehun looks at you like a stray pet. “Town mail won’t deliver itself,” you offer. "You’re an author, too, delivering your own work. That’s important. Don’t say useless things to me, Sehun.” The tone of the night becomes less tense. Smirking, you continue: “relax, then tell me what happened in that freak’s house.”

Your teeth bite down on your tongue, eyes narrow and reflecting the moonlight. 

You don’t know why you’re expecting a longer, well thought-out response from the Sehun you’re looking at right now. His short hair damp from the sweat and mild rain, parted in awkward tranches - you’re not used to comforting him, although it feels good to be the one seeing Sehun vulnerable, for once.

While you’re waiting for Sehun to rearrange his thoughts, you run your hand against the bars of iron separating you from the front yard of the manor. The sounds are a symphony of metal clink-clanks against your graceful nails, free of overgrown cuticles or ragged whites, unlike Sehun’s. The bars are hollow iron, but their wounds are merely rusted scratches, like they don’t give in over the years. 

Neither does Sehun.

Lazed back. Real lazy. Doesn’t like thinking about what he is, why he is, who he is. He’s thought about it before; things like whether or not cabbage was really nutritious (it’s just water), whether or not he wanted to be a writer forever, whether or not he should tell you about the car shop home, whether or not he loved you more than just a friend. 

It’s fated, and so he doesn’t bother to delve deeper than what he needs to know. He just knows that it’s all bliss when he’s with you. And he knows that he’s in love with this life: the rush, the fights, hell, he had almost forgotten his dad was a cop. Just like magnets, though polar opposites, you stick together. Late night escapades into the apple of the town was just another habit branded deep into your history.

He feels like laughing at his own inanity, so he parts his lips, but not even the chuckle at the edge of his throat makes it past. Something irks him uncomfortably about what happened tonight, so he clears his gullet filling up with phlegm and blames the bright waning moon. It used to be so full of itself, now only a needle in the vista expanse of night. Sehun breathes harder now, because he realizes that they’re not so different.

Sehun finally speaks: “Well, I just tried to throw the freak his mail. But I think I set off his flares, doll. Mr. Park - he’s really a bent man, broken after the war. There was an iron on his hip, a-and as soon as I saw it leave his belt loop, I didn't have a doubt that he’s not wicked.”

Sehun’s joints ache uncomfortably despite wherever he shifts his weight toward, so he leans against the tall wire fence guarding the manor. He feels an ivy trickle down the nape of his neck everytime he tilts his head to the side. Nuances here, nuances there. Last time you both were out here, there weren’t any ivies. Were there?

Mr. Park stands leaning back, intently listening from the arch door frame that separated his balcony from his quarters.

These kids talk so loudly, he thinks, he could hear your entire exchange from up here. The yellow cast light from his bedroom fights with the dark to illuminate his figure carefully in the night, but he knows that you’re both still unable to see him from the ground angle. He feels slightly creepy, standing there in his satin dress shirt and work jeans. He pulls out his gun one more time, loosely, just to swing it. 

Feeling watched, you decide that you both shouldn’t be there any longer. Sehun’s teeth grind against each other eagerly for a taste other than his own metallic blood being drawn. Yawning, his mouth goes dry and his throat parches, longing for the feeling of smoke in his lungs.

Sehun knows he shouldn’t smoke around you. He doesn’t want to ruin your innocence, but he can’t help it. He wishes he had better self-control and restraint, but even so, you were clearly too much of a goody-two-shoes to care. “Drop dead Sehun, are you stupid? How’d he get a gun in this old town? Those are so hard to even-”

“Everybody knows they’re prohibited, doll. It must be ‘cause he’s a veteran, the govs decide that they don’t need to necessarily establish regulations with them,” Sehun glances up back at the house. You know he’s just said a bunch of nonsense.

“Somethin’ like that,” he continues. “Like it’s any work.” He almost scoffs, reaching into his pocket upon instinct. He doesn’t notice, but you’re intently watching. 

You follow his hands well, when he rubs the nape of his neck and pulls out a Marlboro from his tattered satchel. Same satchel that’s been long worn with dirt and grease but vacant of textbooks, pencils, or really a real use, ever since the start of freshman year in college. Sehun still stands that it serves purpose in his mail business. 

He shuts his eyes tight as he lights it between his lips, drawing out the smoke for as long as he can. It blows away in the wind, but you scrunch your nose, in the contingency it dissolves in your nostrils.

You pressed Sehun for more: “Don’t you care that Mr. Park’s gonna smell the smoke? His window’s open and he could still be on his balcony for all we know,” you advise him, worried. “And what’s Mr. Park doing with a gun at this hour, anyway? You could see it from the ground? Should we rat him out?”

Sehun shrugs, not letting on much. 

The smoke ignites something in you, you think. “Sehun, answer me! Isn’t this technically trespassing? Shouldn’t we leave now? All that stuff you said about Mr. Park’s makin’ me nervous.”

He finally feels free and empty of apprehension when he lets go of the cigar, balanced between his lips. He feels powerful. But before he can halt the smile that plays at the curve of his mouth, he chuckles a dry, derisive laugh laced with smoke. “Just decided to be nice this week and stop skippin’ his address on the newspaper list for once. Only trespassin’ if we go beyond his door, these front gates bind nothing,” Sehun smirks. “You should know that by now.”

Thin to a whisper, you display a frown. “I don’t hop as many fences as you. Who knows what else this Park guy has, he’s the real deal, gat and all. You should know that before you do anything else, you fool.”

But he grins right back, and he grins wide. “I should? How touché.” 

When he proves satisfied with the gasper, Sehun withdraws the smoke from between his lips and thrusts it toward the grass. It doesn’t burn the damp grass, barely at all. Just tucks itself neatly in a pile of dandelions, the tarnished flame still warmer than the muted yellows surrounding it.

Quickly, almost lunging himself off, Sehun hoists his body up from the iron gate and firmly turns his heel on the cigar, smiling. 

 And when he lifts up his shoe, even under the dim haze of the moon, you can see that the mud has been imprinted deep into the design on the sole of his shoe and the weeds have been stomped flat, butt of the cigar crushed. He finally lifts his eyes to converge with yours and he deadpans, “You know, you’re gonna want a smoke one day, too,” pausing. “Finally want one, doll?”

Doesn’t Sehun know how to properly take care of a girl?

His hand lazed onto your shoulder leaning on the gate post, your eyes glued to the dirt. He wants you to look up, but his gaze is the only thing holding you down. You can’t break free from his glare, lidded and dazed. 

Last night’s rain drips down the manor’s primary parapet beam. A premonition?

“I don’t need more mess in my life right now.” You hadn’t intended for it to come out so harsh and raspy, but Sehun didn’t pay much attention to it.. “Your parents are too pliant, Sehun.”

Mr. Park sighs a breath of relief. You can take care of yourself. He runs a stiff, left hand through his hair. He wouldn’t have to think about Sehun taking advantage of your company. He quietly hums an incisive tune, like a victory sequence. 

“Give it a try. I know your momma doesn’t like me so much anymore, thinkin’ we’re doin-this and doin-that. You don’t gotta do anything you don’t want to, alright?” He reassures you, something you’re grateful for. “I’m just saying, you can’t be such a high-pillow all the time and expect fun. Even if we landed in jail, my dad’d let us out,” Sehun tilts his head down to hide his smile under his breath, giddy.

“I’m not a high-pillow! Can’t we just go to the next address now?”

Ignoring your question, he’s totally replaying the scene over and over in his head. In his pocket, Sehun crosses his middle over his index. He did not like the feeling of mild defeat. At a weak attempt to cure his frustration, his hand rubs at his forehead. Instead, he’s inundated by the dewy sweat collecting at his brow. How could I let Chanyeol scare me off like that? 

You change the subject. Softer, quieter, your voice barely cuts through the air. “Sehun?” Your voice seems to awaken him a bit. Quickly, he mutters underneath his breath, “huh? What?” His mouth parts uncomfortably, small drops of rain collecting on his bottom lip and cupid's bow. 

“You look like tonight’s over. We can walk home now, you’re very pale.”

Sehun responds, an equally modest, “I’m okay.” Insisting, “let’s hang out a little longer,” pausing to offer a smile. “Gumshoe.”

A smile peels your lip open. “Oh yeah?”

Acquiescently, he smiles. “Oh yeah.”

“Then let’s get out of here.”

Sehun winces. “Not yet. Don’t bleed anything against me, ‘kay detective?”

Sehun steadies himself against the tall iron fence again, and it hits him like cold deja vu against his spine. The metal presses deeper into the valleys of his back this time like a knife, but still, he doesn’t move. Instead, he lets it cave against his skin even more, jutting through the fabric of his dress shirt. He takes another look at the smothered cigarette hidden in the grass and laughs a hearty laugh. All he smells is ash and wet dew.

And then, rather obscenely, it comes crashing down on him like dead weight. 

“You know, Chanyeol pulled the gun on me first, looking down on me from that balcony. Then tauntingly, he pointed it back toward himself. What would you do?” Sehun says honestly, turning to face you.

“His blown out eyes wide, but completely still. I’m so pissed that I was scared. Fuckin’ embarrassin’.” he grumbles, matter of factly, a frown thin between his lips as if he’s proven his own point wrong.

“Chanyeol?”

Fuck! “Oh, yeah. That’s his first name. Chanyeol. It means ‘loser’ in the ‘i-can’t-get-any-girls’ language.”

Chanyeol quirks a brow, leaning onto the side railing, still hidden. 

You can’t help but snort. “And why would he do such a thing? Was his tongue stickin’ out too?”

It’s hard to tell where the fabrication starts, but with a pat to your head and a hum in validation, Sehun opens his mouth to protest. “What makes you think he wouldn’t? He’s the town freak.”

Shrugging, you scan the line of trees enveloping the path down the hill. “No, I mean that he was makin’ fun of you with that face.”

 “Sure,” he nods. “But you cannot twist the truth, and the truth is all I’ve been telling you. Don’t you see? That’s creepy, he was pointing the rod at himself. I didn’t want to be responsible in case he actually pulled it, so I left, but now I know that he has no limits. He was ready to die, [Y/N]. This guy’s got no girls, and he’s creepy. You should stay away from him.”

Sehun’s story is like a leaky faucet. It holds enough truth to be believable, but somewhere in the piping, it doesn’t go over well with you. But you believe him. 

Your mind becomes numb and somber for a moment, but the feeling is botched. As if the anesthesiologist didn’t know better, unable to properly administer the drug, and you could still recall Sehun’s words in your head. They lay heavy on your heart, yet you’re not prosaically thinking into the consequences, at all.

Maybe Mr. Park wasn’t as insane as the town recalled him to be. Sehun suddenly speaks. “What a crumb, huh? I don’t think that man’s has mercy on anyone, not even himself.” 

An epiphany makes you feel sick, like a bully. Kids swirl baseless rumors around him. “What are you implying? That he’s lonely and lonely people are crazy?”

“I mean, yeah. He’s a vet, after all. What’s surprising?”

“Listen, you - I mean, Mr. Park, he-he doesn’t have the motive. Stop giving him motives. Rumors say he studied business after his discharge from the draft. That manor of his is built on years of liquified assets, why would he put it all on the line?”

Mr. Park stifles a laugh. You’re defending him. 

Sehun shuts his eyes to think, and for a second you think he’s going to reach into his bag for another cigar, but you think he’s really thinking this time. Sehun definitely knows he is; maybe it’s the lingering tobacco in his throat, maybe it’s the aftershock of what he just said, but he’s really thinking, fitfully. “I - I don’t know, [Y/N]. Maybe he deserves it, for all the people he’s killed.”

A flicker of candlelight moves in your peripheral vision. You nervously glance up at the manor’s ridiculously high arch windows, and wince in horror as the orange glow casted on the balcony shifts. It’s dimmer this time, because there is quite clearly someone blocking the light.

 And the silver alloy shotgun in their grasp gleams under the lunar projection, very, very jeeringly. 

They stand there, eerily forlorn. Lacking real tone or emotion, barren. A machiavellian with a .357 in the limelight pointed dejectedly at the ground. The candlelight behind the figure filters around the silhouette like a stencil on a black canvas, a ghastly spectacle.

And as his arm rises, gun following your bodies, a ghastly spectacle, indeed. It’s hard to tell who he’s aiming at because of the distance. 

The only thing more daunting than the sight itself was the sound of silence. Sehun mutters a curse beneath his breath, beginning to crouch next to you on the dirt. You feel his hands lightly traipse your torso, yearning for your palms in the dark. He first finds your thumb, tender on your clavicle. Then your index, playing with your blouse cloth. You’re glad he doesn’t feel your heartbeat above all, otherwise he would have felt the throb of fear and the mop of tangled love strings evident in the moment. 

Instead, he squeezes your palms together and intertwines your fingers on a whim. Sweaty and scared, they mangle like ropes. He doesn’t know what he’s doing at first, but it was the only way he knew how to provide enough ease for the both of you. It always offers him a little warmth; besides, you were both in danger.

You shudder. “The cover here isn’t good enough,” you whisper. “I bet he’s been listening in on us, Sehun. You see his gat?” Your teeth are chattering now, despite the cooling atmosphere.

“I don’t know what your mama tells you dolly, but now ... we fucking run.” He wants to tighten his grip on his hands on you further and take off like that, but he knows your nature and psyche too well to do that. 

Your chattering halts, “He’s going to see us. And shoot us.” Suddenly apathetic, Sehun finally muses, “Alright. Let’s stay here until that husk of a man leaves.” He exhales, blowing the strands of black hair from his eyes, “promise.” 

Sehun was never very good with promises, and you realize that too late. The fingers caught in yours are already replaced with air and are instead wrapped around your wrist. He juts out his hip, and rises to his full stand. He’s very tall. “Sorry doll. Lied.”

Your stomach sinks. “What are you, a puppy? Do I have to pick you up myself?” He’s towering over you, height teetering past the gate that separated Mr. Park’s property from the town’s. “Sehun, get down, there’s going to be a metal shell in your head anytime now!” With a swift kick to your knee, he pulls you up from the dirt before you can even feel the jolt against your joints, and runs against the wind with you.

[gepgep2]

"What is the reason that so many working-class people are attracted to right wing populism more than they are attracted to left wing populism? I though about this a lot- it's a key strategic question for anyone on the left: what are the other guys doing right?

And I was really impressed by two slogans and how they didn't seem to have anything to do with each other, but in fact, they seemed in practice to have everything to do with each other. One of those slogans is "support the troops" and the other one was this idea of hatred for the liberal elite, constant vindication of the liberal elite. And there doesn't seem to be any reason why they would be related, but they're the two ideas that seem to catch the most resonance in right wing populism and really appeal to a lot of working-class people.

So I thought about it- imagine it this way: imagine everything we think about Americans is not true- that we're not actually a nation of cynics all trying to get ahead, but we're a nation of frustrated altruists, we're people who don't actually want to be thinking about money and material things- we want to be nice, we want to do something noble, something good for people. Well how do you do that? Well in fact, the jobs where you get to be good to people are almost doled out as a reward in this country. You know, that's what you do if you get really rich, you go out and spend your life doing charity- that's your reward. And suddenly everything started to click.

I realized- okay, say I'm a truck driver from Louisiana or I'm an air-conditioner repairman on an army base in Nebraska, and I have a smart kid. Well, I can imagine a scenario where my smart kid might become a CEO, it's not likely, and I don't like CEOs very much, but I can imagine breaking into the economic elite. But I just can't imagine any situation where my kid is going to be drama critic for the New York Times, or an international human rights lawyer- you know? It's just not gonna happen. Why is it not gonna happen? Well there's a million barriers, but what it comes down to is, if you want to get a job that isn't just for the money, if you want to get a job that relates to basically any other type of value- truth, beauty, you want to go into the arts, you want to go into journalism, you want to go into politics, you want to do something where you actually get paid to be nice to people or to follow something higher than money, something noble. Well they won't pay you for the first two years. There's all these unpaid internships. First of all you have to go to an elite college, and even if you get in there you have to live in like New York or San Fransisco or some expensive city on no money for years.

Basically it's impossible for anyone from that kind of background to 'break in.' So naturally you hate those guys who grabbed all the jobs where you get to do something noble, right? On the other hand, if you are from a working-class background and you want to get paid to do something that you think is pursuing something higher and noble, what can you do? You can join the army. That's pretty much it.

One of things that gave this away to me was talking to an anthropologist named Cathy Lutz who's done a whole study of [foreign]US military bases. And one thing she finds is they always have these programs where they get the soldiers to go out and give free dental checkups, or teach english as a foreign language, or do cultural things- outreach. They started this stuff because they thought it would make people more accepting of the military bases- doesn't work at all. It has basically no effect. But they keep it up because they found out that soldiers who do this stuff are three times more likely to reenlist.

So these guys- they want to be in the peace core! They don't really want to be killing anybody, they want to do something nice. It's the only way you can get paid to do anything valuable like that. They're more likely to sign up to a job where you have a chance to get your head blown off, to get crippled or killed, if they are allowed to give free dental checkups. I think that tells you something."

David Graeber

[starscelly]

curious about early days vibes for the flying stars if you have more thoughts about that. like it sounds like they go from being two sets of two weirdos to being a set of four weirdos all together and that seems like it would be a bit of a process

oh it is. absolutely a Whole process. like already the friendship btwn robo and otter with roope is. weird. because those two have their own longer history and um. deeper. connection. but roope is good and has amazing stage presence and promised them a bassist so they kind of. brute force their way through it.

and roope isn’t Bad company, he’s just. not the easiest to connect to? and they think it’s a language barrier thing, or maybe he’s just like that but no. his english is like great for the most part and he seems silly and fun with his other friends. but they find out after playing together a bit that he and robo have Electric chemistry. like their styles play off each other really well in every way. so while roope still absolutely fucking refuses to give into north american ideas of politeness (why would i ask how you are if i don’t care. just because we’re in a space together for a few minutes doesn’t mean we have to introduce ourselves when we’re strangers. dont talk to me) he does let them in a bit more over the few weeks they exist pre-miro.

and then they find out miro isn’t just a random bassist he knows Here but a bassist from Back Home. like finland home. and they’re like??? maybe we should meet him first? like call or text or something at least? is he already flying out here?? wdym you dont know anyone else more. idk. in america? and roopes like. okay shut up no he’s good. you’ll see you’ll get it. and also yeah he already booked his flight soo. and then when miro Does finally get to the states and they organize a little meet up it completely changes their perspective on roope because like. okay they thought they made Progress. they cracked through that shell and could unlock the roope they saw with his other friends. Wrong. they saw roope mostly with american friends. they are not prepared for the loud ass rapid fire finnish that he and miro break into, or the clear ease in the way they interact, in general and physically. and theyre like :/ oh maybe we didnt unlock shit and this is gonna be awful and awkward as we feared.

so despite the fears that miro is gonna be as stand offish as roope felt at the start, they actually get along really well with him off the bat, like he comes off much friendlier, and sure he’s a little quiet but its not like. Concerning. and roope was right. he IS really good and they DO get it. for the first little while it is for sure like, two separate weird duos that just kind of seem friendly with each other - not helped by the fact that miro is living with roope while otter is sorting out school stuff and robo is in and out of the state for a bit - but once they’re all able to Solidly be together otter realizes like. wait a fucking minute. miro isn’t nice. roope hasn’t gotten nicer. they’re just Secretly being assholes together.

this realization of course brought on when robo asks possibly the dumbest shit he’s ever heard in his life during practice and miro just hits him with a “yeah of course (:” as if he doesn’t deserve to get torn apart for saying it. and wow miro says that a lot. they thought it was a weird filler but No he’s just making fun of them to their face and roope is just giggling along with him. and ofc when this is called out miro is like “no no i was just trying not to hurt ur feelings 🤗” and even if that was believable roope starts blowing up his spot chuckling anyways So.

so once That is put out there things sloowly start clicking into place because they’re like. okay we get your stupid sense of humor now. we can work with this. and miro IS more willing to conform to american politness which probably soothes otter’s midwestern soul a little. and because of this they do find it easier to get close to miro, and through like. osmosis or whatever robo and otter grow on roope as well. and it Cannot be denied that robo and roope’s insane chemistry on stage can be carried on offstage….. to say the least .

so basically through the powers of being so stubborn and gay and mean. they can all b friends <3 and maybe friends who kiss <3

[flieshavetheirhouse]

Read this @ dymphna’s last night about my friend

Shrink

 My close friend Shrink had a psychotic break and sent us 200 texts in 48 hours. One of them said, “I as a man want to die just to save my sole concept of a woman in this world.” Another one said, “I’ve done no harm to women in the physical world, but I do know how smart you all are. But you’re all sinners in my mind. Sorry. No more words.” In the texts he apologized to God for owning an animal, for being a virgin, for recursing numbers, defining things in terms of their previous forms. He’s Irish Catholic and studying biomedical technology, so it was bound to happen. 

Mae called his parents and they brought him back tp the city. They took his phone away and then gave it back. He texts us, “Wow. Lithium is fucking amazing. Thank you for teaching me how to be a better man. Quit your drug habits this semester and I’ll see you in the summer. I love you all. Platonically.” 

I started hanging out with Shrink in 2021 because we were both bad at eye contact. He tried explaining his brain condition to me but I didn’t get it. But he wanted to understand me. He wanted to understand my friends. Do girls like anything? It should be easy to understand women with a pre-set binary in place. But it’s not. Even when you know them. Maybe especially then. He would ask us stuff like, Am I a bad person for wanting to fuck her? Does she not like me because I’m low-key autistic? Do girls like ANYTHING? Haven’t you always wanted to ask a woman these kinds of questions? You can ask men these kind of questions no problem. It turns them on. But you have to read books to figure out how to talk to women. That’s not fair. Women get to have books written about their esotericism. While they walk amongst us still. Shrink texts, “They call it recursion in computer science. But I know you women don’t understand this kind of stuff.” My friends are getting pissed off. He’s getting less Jesus-y but more misogynistic. Wtf. But we DON’T understand recursion. I don’t understand recursion. How can the output of the problem equal the magnitude of the number? It’s not about being retarded, it’s not about girl-math. It’s about conceptual differences. If the problem happens why can it force itself, by virtue of being itself, to happen again? Life isn’t a Cornell West lecture. Life is something that learns from itself and spits new things out. Isn’t it? DO GIRLS LIKE ANYTHING??? 

I’m texting things like omg that’s crazy sad face but in my present tense I’m trying to rationalize his psychosis. Is that fucked up? Driving yourself insane over somebody else’s revelations, that seemingly drove them insane? Im not allowed to text him, that would clearly make things worse. I’m not allowed to say the schizobabble has a point. Im not allowed to say he’s based, even though that’s what he would want. 

We’ve got this other friend called Ripper and he’s helping take care of Shrink now. Ripper says it’s been hard reteaching Shrink how to be “careful with language”. Because we’re in civil society. Psychosis is a problem that psychoanalyzes itself. The way a computer is a machine that computes data. You need to grasp the concepts to know the tidbits. It’s recursive. Was that Shrink’s point? Is it fair to find a point? How do I make my friend’s psychotic episode about me? Me and my friends are all thinking it. But saying that aloud would be insane. 

One of the other texts Shrink sent, back when he was really in the thick of it, said “Leya, I need to be at one of the readings you go to to tell everyone what I learned.” that would be crazy, Mae sends in a different group chat. Crazy how? Crazy because he’s not seeing demons, he’s just articulating his own divine truths? Crazy because he’s honest? Crazy because you want to hear what he’s saying? Crazy because the social barrier is dead? Crazy because being a man can mean something, crazy because being a man means experiencing more rejection than love? But still trying. Right now I’m telling you he’s still trying. 

[flowersandbirdsflyingfree]

I literally NEED A MATCHUP WITH POSTAL URGENTLY. I just fell in love with the franchise and I can't help it, I don't make the rules. I'm bisexual afab agender with she/they pronouns, but I guess that's not that important. I’m Russian, but I moved to the states a couple of years ago, I have no problems with the language barrier, and I understand the people around me perfectly.

Я невысокого роста, с короткими и буквально белыми волосами, а также у меня прямая короткая челка над бровями. У меня зеленые глаза, довольно большие, меня дразнили по этому поводу в детстве, поэтому у меня выработался небольшой комплекс из-за моих больших глаз((( У меня проблемы с зубами, поэтому я ношу брекеты уже второй год, и у меня специальная диета, которой я не особо придерживаюсь, если честно.

I'm very chaotic. Most of the time I can hardly be heard, or I just make sarcastic remarks to someone, but if I am in good company, I will roll on the floor laughing and do ridiculous things. I also have periods of increased aggression more often than most, unfortunately. When I'm in this mood, I always have the desire to make fun of someone.

I can play guitar and piano, and I even performed songs before when I was in high school. I'm interested in tarot, drawing art, learning languages, anthropology and, of course, video games. In general, my knowledge is quite extensive, so I can discuss anything. thanks in advance)))

Oh yes, of course!!! One Dude matchup, coming up hot!

Your match is made:

Postal 2 Dude

You’re Russian? He loves listening to you speak it. He might not listen sometimes to what you’re saying just because he’s doting on the sound of your voice. Which can be frustrating a tad bit when he won’t pick up his laundry.

Chaos is his name. Don’t wear it out, sweet pea! This man is all about having a good time. Not to mention how every seemingly boring errand ends in some bullshit going down. You will never get bored with him by your side

Random headcanon that he would be the kind to watch the sunset under an oak tree with you and carve your initials into a heart on the tree’s trunk.

Dude is also sarcastic at times. Well, most times. But it’s directed at the world around him. Side comment from me: there is no longer a difference between Postal 2 NPCs and the real world. Everything’s turned upside down. But it can make well for you two to laugh at the world around you.

He has aggressive tendencies too, but you know that already. Maybe you could go somewhere and just break stuff. Those break rooms would be fun. But to be real? You guys are gonna break into someone’s store/house and just trash the place. Serves them right!

Nobody knows how he can pull random anatomy and physiology facts out of nowhere like a rabbit out of a magician’s hat. The Dude got held back in 8th grade at least 3 times until the education board gave up and shoved him forward. That being said, the two of you are always teaching each other something every day.

Dude actually draws cartoons in his spare time. They’re usually the kind of stuff a high schooler on Newgrounds would come up with (nevermind the fact he is in his mid to late 30s…) He loves your artwork though. You have lots of amazing talents! He wants to compare sketchbooks together (or whatever you use for art)

Give him a tarot reading! I feel like his would not be the best sadly. Like you pull up a tower moment for him and he just sighs. “Figures...”

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

✨D.D. MASTERLIST ✨

[banner and dividers created by @saradika​]

[DRABBLES]

At Fault (1.7k words)

Common Mistake (1.8k)

Deep Blue, but You Painted Me Golden (1.8k)

Familiar & Unfamiliar (4.1k)

I Miss You, I Miss You Too (0.5k)

In a Perfect World, You Love Me (6.9k) // Perfect World pt. II (2.5k)

Language Barrier (1.0k words)

Lost in the Light (1.4k)

Ni Ceta, Cyar’ika (7.8k) // I Love You, Cyar’ika (4.5k)

⏤ Do You Want Me, Cyar’ika: HAPPY END (6.7k), DARK END (5.1k)

Not Like This (1.3k words) // Not You (2.3k words)

One Hundred and Fifty Seven (4.1k words)

That’s Not My Name (632 words)

din djarin x female!reader

Playlist

Older!Grogu Inspo Art

summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

✨: signifies a ‘AFS’ deleted scene/drabble!

#01: Two Porgs, One Blaster

#02: Are You Trying to Say Bear?

#03: Marshal Daddy

#04: Mayfeld Didn't Mean to Step on Him

✨#4.5: He is a Quick One✨

#05: Wife Material

#06: Trikar'la, Buir!

#07: Soran

✨#7.5: Like The Wizards✨

#08: You're His Home

#09: Buir, Grogu, Ma

✨#9.5: Ma’s Got You✨

#10: Show Off

#11: You Didn’t

#12: Grogu, Grogu, Baby, It’s Okay

#13: The Danger Has Passed, Cyar’ika

#14: Am I Making You Quiver?

#15: Mando Looks Like He Knows How to Fuck

#16: I Don’t Want It to Be a Sin

#17: Close Your Eyes, Ner Kar’ta

✨#MID 17: Take a Break, Doc✨

#18: Talk About a Power Couple

#19: My Boys Needed Me

#20: Short Stick Bears His Wrath

#21: Made of the Right Stuff

#22: Like Father, Like Son

#23: It’s a Surprise

✨#23.5: Am I Close to Redemption?✨

#24: Right Between Your Thighs

din djarin x female!reader

summary: It was like fate or destiny had planned from the beginning for you to be on the run from the law. With the words ‘I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold’ adorning your rib cage you always wondered what was worse: Knowing you were bound to being wanted or realizing your soulmate was a cursed bounty hunter. You had a mission to finish and no bounty hunter, soulmate or not, was going to stop you.

#01: Unstoppable Force Meets Immovable Object

#02: Falling For You

#03: Call it Fate, Destiny, Call it Luck

#04: Cool Motive, Still Murder

#05: Right Person, Wrong Time

#06: Partners in Crime

#07: A Favor For a Friend

#08: But You’re Still a Traitor

[SEVEN DAYS]

Cowboy!Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Summary: The Mandalorian, a morally gray and hardened bounty hunter, makes a decision that alters the course of his fate and yours. As your two very different worlds collide, you learn the Mandalorian is more than his reputation has led you to believe, and you have only seven days to decide if saving his life would be worth destroying your own.

DAY ONE

DAY TWO

DAY THREE

DAY FOUR

DAY FIVE

DAY SIX

DAY SEVEN

AFTER

[feverdreamjohnny]

Hi, I’m a newer game dev (at least I’m tryin to be one lol) and I’ve realized that I have a really hard time finishing projects, because I just get burnt out and lose any passion I had for it. Do you have any advice?

Here's how I've (sort of) navigated these issues:

- Make small games. This was originally my "starting out" advice for people, but as time has gone on I genuinely think this is the only practical method for indie development. When I say small, I mean SMALL. I don't mean "oh, make an 8 hour game with hidden levels and side quests," I mean "your game is, at most, a single hour long, preferably 30 minutes." I've seen enough indies overscope their work and get stuck for nearly a decade without a finished product because they wanted to replicate the scope of a game made by several people with millions of dollars. You can definitely attempt larger projects down the line, but for the most part smaller games are what give you consistent growth as a creative, a reliable audience, and if you monetize them on steam or itch.io - an income. It's also a great opportunity to explore experimental design/art without risks, which is always valuable.

- Regardless of the game's scope, you need to take multi-day-long breaks if you're experiencing burnout. Game development is a cerebral discipline and it will tire you out fast. Forcing yourself through burnout might squeeze out more results, but you're just amplifying burnout down the line. Recognize that the breaks are a natural extension of the process and don't wreck yourself trying to be "more" than that. Hell, even painters sometimes need a bit of space from their work before they can continue, why would it be any different here?

[MORE BELOW THE BREAK]

- Don't get hung up on the game not coming out like you thought it would. If you become frustrated because the game doesn't reflect your ambitions, it's easy to lose interest and want to move on from it. Games will almost never resemble the initial vision. Sometimes you have to avoid being a perfectionist and accept your game for what it is.

- Find community (if you can). Surrounding yourself with other developers can be a great motivator for your own work, and being able to tap into a larger pool for second opinions and assistance can help you break barriers that otherwise would've stopped your work.

- Take your time. Game development is slow, and learning the various disciplines inside of it is a lengthy process. It took me 8 years to do the stuff I do today. Granted you might have an easier time if you're older than I was when I started, but in general it will take years to get to a point where you feel confident.

- Try a different engine from time to time. Most modern engines are fairly well suited for independent game development, but the available resources surrounding the engine (such as documentation and community support) can vary wildly. I strongly recommend window shopping across several engines. There's a small chance that you're having a hard time because the engine you're currently using isn't well suited to you and your goals. Some recommendations based on the ones I've personally tried:

* Game Maker Studio 2 - Great general purpose engine for 2D game development. Has a great community and plenty of learning resources. It's also fairly user friendly. It does have a license cost if you want to monetize your games, so keep that in mind. Scripting is done with GML, which is very human-readable.

* Godot - One of the best open source 2D/3D game engines. Doesn't have all the features of its competitors, but it's rapidly evolving and what's already there is more than enough to make most games. It's also compatible with various programming languages! Also, being open source means that it's completely free of licensing costs.

* Unreal Engine - Freakishly powerful 3D game engine at the cutting edge for modern game development. The C++ scripting might be fairly tough to work with as a newcomer (especially since it's built around a special wrapper for the engine that changes some of the rules), but it does have a well supported visual scripting backend that could do you some good. 2D games are certainly possible in Unreal, but it's clear that's not what the engine is intended for. Also Unreal has a neat licensing policy where you don't have to pay them unless you make more than +$1M, so that's cool.

* Unity - This is the one I use. It's great for 2D and 3D, and has a rapidly evolving feature set. It's one of the few engines with a swappable rendering pipeline system, which lets you pick the fidelity to work with relative to your game: With HDRP you can work on high-end games, and URP is great for doing everything else. Like Unreal you can initially monetize your games for free, but you have to pay a monthly subscription once you cross +$100k. Also you have to pay a monthly subscription to get rid of the splash screen which kind of sucks. Other than that, it's a very robust engine with possibly the largest community of the engines listed here.