#i don't have an explanation i'm sorry

[saturday-byte]

What if uhhh . Impossium vintage rabbit and rose gold upgrade .. what if . Is that anything

This lowkey sucks idk why my computer saturates reds so much this didn't look like that in there 😭😭 I'm not fixing it tho hope this is decent enough

[yuanology]

Hey, i love your writing! Could you please write for

M!reader, a seemingly innocent guy, though appearances can be deceiving. Then there's Geto, who initially dropped subtle hints about having feelings for Reader. But frustration mounts as Geto's attempts go unnoticed, with Reader simply viewing their interactions as friendly. Eventually, Geto's patience wears thin, especially since Gojo and reader have been getting along well. As jealousy and frustration brew within Geto, he unknowingly directs it at reader through snarky and bratty comments. Reader, though patient, can only take so much. They finally snap, (Geto is surprised because reader is always so soft spoken and sweet) giving Geto a piece of their mind and putting him in his place.

Can i please be 👁️ anon?

welcome 👁️ anon! i forgot to actually write smut in this! so have a really long build-up and hopefully a part two in the future, holy shit. i am so sorry. (suguru's characterisation is also a bit weird here . i can't put a finger on it but my brain is not clicking rn. i am so sorry, 👁️ anon. i'll do better next time. please forgive me for this failure just this once.)

geto suguru was not an impatient man but you were an entirely different matter. you always had been.

there was something about you that drove your existence apart from all of the others— a steadiness in your presence, a constance in your friendship with him. you kept him grounded, an anchor and a light in the darkness that came with being a jujutsu sorcerer. had it not been for you, suguru thought he might have gone rogue so many times ago in the past.

"suguru."

ah, speak of the angel (yes, he knew that wasn't how the saying went, but you weren't the devil. how could you be, with your smile and your careful hands? you were an angel, sent from above to keep him from drowning), you slid into the seat next to him. as usual, you smiled at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you did, before you dug into your meal.

suguru let his gaze linger on you for a few short seconds before he turned his face to eat his meal, too.

lunch was a contented affair, filled with small talk and the occasional sound of your laughter. there was something domestic, suguru would like to think, about the way you stole his chicken and he snatched your meatballs in compensation. suguru could hardly think of a time he had ever been this comfortable with anyone but you. you had him lowering his guards without ever having to ask him at all, an inane talent he doubted you even noticed. but it was there, and you were a miracle worker that never failed to hold him through his worst and his best.

so, really, it shouldn't come as a surprise that suguru would have to share you with others, too.

specifically, one fucking annoying gojo satoru.

don't misunderstand him, he loved satoru. satoru was his best friend, his one and only, his steady companion. they had been through hell and back together, shoving each other to further heights and hauling one another out of the deepest pits. he cared for satoru, loved him in every way a man could love his best friend. suguru loved his friend.

but jesus christ, could satoru get on his nerves sometimes.

because the thing is. the thing is that satoru knew—he knew the way suguru looked at you, he knew the way suguru spoke about you, he knew the way suguru's heart beat and ached for you. satoru knew all about the depths of his affections for you, every single beautiful and ugly thing, because that was what you do with your best friend, right? you trust them.

backstabber, suguru thought bitterly, shoving a now-acrid tasting meatball into his mouth.

because there satoru was, his arms thrown around you in ways that suguru could never touch you, his jokes making you laugh in a way that left suguru feeling ripped between wanting to watch your smile and punch satoru in the face hard enough that he'd be bleeding for days for stealing that sight from you and leaving suguru nothing but the left-overs to pick after.

in spite of everything, suguru was hardly ever really envious of his best friend. yes, there were moments where he wished satoru would get off his high-horse and someone would knock some sense into him (and that responsibility, more often than not, fell on suguru's shoulders), but he was never really jealous of satoru. there was never a need for it, not when he knew the worst and the lows of being gojo satoru.

however, in that moment, watching satoru cling onto you and make you grin, suguru understood what it meant to truly be seething with jealousy. that should be me.

the rest of the day passed by in a hazy blur after that. suguru vaguely recollected leaving lunch early, reciting robotically that he had somewhere to be urgently and ignoring the knowing grin satoru shot his way or the downwards curl of your lips. he thought he might have given you the cold shoulder at some point or another, the words leaving his lips a little sharp and a little cruel, but he didn’t remember what he said. you might have recoiled, you might have not. suguru couldn’t remember.

(and he didn’t want to remember— he didn’t want to remember the way he had turned his face away when he heard the sound of your voice calling out his name. he didn’t want to remember the way his shoulders had knocked against yours a little too hard as you passed each other by in the hallways. he didn’t want to remember the way your face dropped when he took a seat on a table across the room from your usual one. he didn’t want to remember because if he did, then he would have to remember all the tiny ways he hurt you. papercuts still stung like a bitch, after all.)

then, one day became another, and another became a week, and a week became a month—

and the end of the month brought you.

a beautiful, brilliant, furious apparition of you—one that stormed up to him and, without warning or another word, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and hauled him bodily after you. his feet dragged against the floor, his toes catching onto the heels of his own choes before he could struggle to right himself.

“what are you—” he began.

“shut up,” you interrupted him.

cleverly, suguru did.

he didn’t say a damn thing even as you slammed the door to your dormroom open, shoving him inside without another word. his lips parted in confusion when you began to lock the door behind you, but he still said nothing as you grabbed him by the wrist to direct him further into your room. he didn’t say a single word until you shoved him onto your bed, his back flat on the mattress.

“what?” he tried again.

“you’ll shut up and listen to me when i talk,” you said, your voice leaving no room for arguments. suddenly, you were looming over him, straddling his waist as your open palm pressed over his chest; right above his pounding heart. “do you understand?”

suguru swallowed thickly as he nodded. this was a side of you he hadn’t even known existed; rough and unafraid, your hands on him meant to firmly rule rather than to guide gently as you usually would. even in your anger, you had never been anything else but firm—steady and stubborn.

fuck, he thought wisely to himself. i'm in deep trouble.

but when your hand found the collar of his shirt, your fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt, he finds that he didn't mind it. not in the slightest.

because you had always been beautiful, but you were damningly ephemereal now, peering down at him with something burning carved into your irises; bold and brilliant, striking and inescapable. suguru had never felt so wonderfully trapped before, caught in your stare and unable to look away.

"satoru told me everything," you began, your assessing gaze never once leaving him. "i'm disappointed, suguru."

static clogged his head immediately, all thoughts clearing from his head into an unbearable haze. dirty little traitor. his throat felt tight, his heart stopping in his chest. excuses climbed up the back of his mouth, tasting like bile and the curses that he swallows, and every single little ugly thing that had ever crossed his mind. explanations defining his inner-most thoughts, apologies creasing into the space between his teeth. nothing came out, nothing but a strangled sound; caught between a whimper and a whine. weak, pathetic.

your head tilted at the noise, your gaze sharpening into something vicious. "you should have told me yourself," you said. "i never took you for a coward, suguru."

suguru couldn't help the weak, strangled thing that escaped his throat. he thought that it might have been a piece of his heart. "i'm sorry," he whispered, before he could think better of it.

the sigh that you let out was low, almost vicious in its nature. suguru hid his wince by turning his head, the side of his face half-buried into the sheets. before he could succeed, however, your hand caught his chin, forcing him to turn his gaze to meet your eyes once again.

"look at me when i'm talking to you, suguru." your voice sent a series of goosebumps rippling up his skin. he shuddered, trying to shake it off, but he couldn't when your grip on his face was firm. he still tried to nod a bit, wanting to appease you.

"i'm sorry," suguru rasped out once again.

"stop apologising."

all of a sudden, his forehead was flicked. the motion was so familiar in the face of such an unfamiliar circumstance that suguru couldn't help but blink, startled. for a moment, suguru couldn't think, couldn't do anything—much less suppress the faint smile that appeared on his lips. perhaps not much had changed after all. perhaps you could still have him as your friend, still care for him the way you cared for him before.

"so," he started slowly, "you're not angry at me?"

"i'm pissed at you," you told him bluntly.

before he could wilt, though, your grip on his chin became a gentle caress to his jaw, and suguru felt his whole world tilting upside down once again. your face was close to his, too close, and suguru felt like he couldn't breathe at the proximity.

"i am so, so angry at you, suguru. you should have told me everything sooner. i can't believe you made me wait so long just for this. all your attitude as of late, all your snark and sass, that was just a defence mechanism, wasn't it?" your voice was cutting as you picked apart his brain, dissecting all of his secret truths with all the precision of a surgeon's knife. "you got jealous—and instead of talking to me, you decided to push me away."

your voice was a low murmur, not meant to be anything seductive but still sending a sharp thrill up to suguru's monkey brain all the same. all he could think of was the curl of your smile—secretive, knowing, like you were in on some secret joke that he wasn't—and the way you were looking at him now—like a predator who had his hunt cornered—and how suguru couldn't do anything but take anything that you doled out.

fuck, that's so hot.

"i'm sorry," he said again, dutiful and polite.

and for a moment, simply a nanosecond, he caught a fissure in your exterior; that softness bleeding out for a moment before the cracks smoothened itself out. even so, that split-second was enough for suguru to realise oh. he's not actually angry at me. because all of this, he knew now, was part of the game that you were playing with him; a theatrical dramatic act to compensate for the weeks of silence you got from his end.

your head tilted slowly, dangerously, as if you're assessing him, and the newfound knowledge that you like were made a shiver run down his spine. because you wanted this, you wanted him too, even if you haven't said those words out loud. you craved him, and that single piece of knowledge was enough for suguru to feel like he was going to break himself apart and meld himself together until he fit all and every single one of your wishes; until he became perfect just for you.

suguru's smile was small, placating in the way he knew you hated it. "forgive me?" he asked, practically simpering.

you caught onto what he was trying to do—of course, you did, you always did—and you threw your head back in a sharp laugh. "i don't know, suguru." your smile was mean, dangerous, and suguru almost fainted on the spot. fuck. "do you think you deserve my forgiveness?"

all of suguru's bravado melted in that moment as he felt like a miserably delighted pile of limbs and bones and a beating heart that thumped and echoed and lived just for youyouyou. "no," he said, his voice coarse, rough with his own admission. his hand moved to rest on your knees, not reaching higher because he knew better than to touch you more at a time like this. he didn't deserve it yet. "but let me show you." let me deserve the taste of you, let me deserve to feel what it means to worship you.

your lips curled into a smirk, and suguru felt as if he was going to die right then and there. miraculously, he managed to stay alive just long enough to watch you crawl off of him, standing by the edge of the bed, your gaze still following him like you were going to eat him alive.

"hands and knees, suguru," you said. "you better earn it."

geto suguru was not an impatient man but in order to satisfy you, no time in the world was ever enough.

[queeriboh]

who needs context anyway? Vincent took them to Pride in Reveil

[finexbright]

.

[discjude]

Hi prequel community. If I said that I think the reason why there were only two prequels compared to the three that the other parts of the series got (3 TSY books and 3 TCY books) AND the reasons why Rhian's eye colour changes miraculously from Rise to Fall from green to blue (I think he's described as having green eyes in Rise? someone might have to correlate me on that) is because in Rise he's supposed to parallel TSY Sophie (green eyes, doubtfully good, multiple boyfriends) and then in Fall he's supposed to parallel Japeth (blue eyes, fratricidal, insane, gets cool one liners) how would you react to that

[dandelion-wings]

anyway now that I am Being Brave I can post a tiny excerpt of the current project that is consuming my brain, which is more Lisa/Jean/Kaeya omegaverse but with different alt-bio from the existing Lisa/Jean/Kaeya omegaverse:

Lisa gives him a too-thoughtful look and then says, far too reasonably for the words, "Jean could always be your partner for it." He opens his mouth to protest. Jean is her *mate*, and thus the last person Lisa should be volunteering to share another omega's bed. She swept away any dreams Kaeya might have had about Jean the moment she swept into Jean's life, and he knows that she knows that. But she's smiling at him, as pleased with her own notion as a cat with cream, and Jean is nodding. "If you would be comfortable with that, it may be the best solution." "So Lisa is going to play at Acting Acting Grand Master while you-" all the terms that come to mind feel wildly inappropriate to say in front of Jean, *about* Jean "-handle this?" "Of course not, cutie." Lisa pats his arm. "I'll be there too. As long as we're efficient about triggering Jean's rut, it shouldn't take more than a few days to get you out of heat again. Hertha can handle things for that long."

[folerdetdufoler]

Hi, I wrote my first evak fic in early 2023, before that I had been an avid reader for years. I know the fandom is a little quiet but there's this hardcore group of writers and readers that seem to have been around since the start and all know (of) each other. I don't know how to word this without sounding envious but it seems to me that group doesn't really read, comment on, give kudos or support new fics outside of their little circle. I want to believe it's a time issue but I have to say it comes across cliquey and a little hurtful. I really hope I am just being an insecure baby but I would be so happy if the established and popular writers would give me feedback and leave comments.

hiya! congratulations on writing and posting! i know it can be a big, scary jump from reading to writing and sharing, so applause for that in the first place.

i'm sorry your contributions to the fandom haven't been received the way you'd like them to be. if i'm included in this group of writers and readers, then, well my reasons for not reading/commenting/supporting are possibly going to be more hurtful than what you're already experiencing! i've whined about it years ago (first here, then here), and unfortunately it all still stands, because i have done absolutely zero work on bettering myself as a human being. i think i've read a handful of fics, mostly because they've been sent to me directly, with someone asking for my thoughts, and i managed to put in the effort to read it and offer a polite response. but there are also a bunch of fics that have been shared with me that i haven't read, even when i've said i would. i'm sorry if you have specifically done this with me in the past, because i have not treated your work, your creativity, with the respect it deserves.

i can't speak for anyone else, on how they choose to spend their time reading or writing, or the relationships they have with other fans. on the one active skam discord i'm in, i think a lot of them know each other from other fandoms, or have different relationships beyond writing/reading skam fic. also, as skam fades, people might only have the bandwidth for enjoying and supporting fanworks from established relationships, the same way you still want to support a favorite author even when you or they have changed genres or whatever.

but in reality i don't know the group where this is happening or why. i agree, it would be nice to receive more readers and commenters in general, and being jealous of the attention other people receive is natural. but i don't know how to change your relationship with that group, or my relationship with reading & supporting.

[soubiapologist]

[fayevalcntine]

I don't actually think the show does well enough in terms of handling Claudia's backstory and internalized feelings re: a lot of what happens in the latter half of the season, but apparently that's an unpopular opinion of sorts in this fandom.

To put it simply, Claudia reminiscing about her past life prior to being a vampire in all but 6 lines is not a proper exploration of said life. In comparison to her parents getting a more expanded view of theirs (Louis thankfully had at least one episode prior to being turned while Lestat's backstory is even going to be repeatedly hinted at in season 2), she mentions a dead mother all but once (twice if you count an easy lie she tells in 1.06), an aunt beating her, having to deal with perverts at the rooming house she stayed in, and not having any more children to play with during the night because she's now a vampire. Again, all this is explored in less than 10 lines total. This isn't really us getting enough info on her so much as barely getting the most basic information that we can get on her past, and again, it's also not a proper exploration of a child suddenly going from an abusive poor household to a rich people's home, with two strangers that suddenly become her parents, and her becoming completely estranged to the life she once knew. Claudia remembers her past life in comparison to her book counterpart because she's 14, yet somehow I'm supposed to accept that she is completely fine with all of these changes until she suddenly isn't?

Subtlety is also not this show's Forte nor is it even the thing it's remembered by: we have Louis referencing books that are clearly meant for us to look up, we have a 10 minute domestic violence scene where the white vampire deliberately tries to kill his Black partner. This just makes the lack of info on Claudia obviously glaring because she is also raped, but her rape is never even talked about BY her. It's hinted at by Louis, it's nagged for more information on by Daniel, it's mocked by Lestat. The only time we even get Claudia referring to Bruce is in a scene that is clearly meant to serve as a not-so-subtle hint that Louis is being raped by his husband? So again, a hint of a moment that Claudia gives is again turned into a message about what Louis is going through. When a show has more men talk about this traumatic incident that happened to this girl than the girl herself, then yeah, it IS glaring and unless Rolin and Co. make some effort to rectify a general lack of attention they give her, or turn it into some commentary about how a Black girl's story is shaped and disfigured by all the men in her life that abused her, then it's still pretty glaring and lacking.

[tiffany-smith]

Is it just me or does Katniss always saying she can't do without the "boy with the bread" just... a trauma response?

Like I totally agree that she also loves him, that it's thematically relevant to the message Suzanne Collins was trying to convey, and so on... it's a good match...

But I definitely read there being at least a little trauma response in her NEEDING him like that.

She almost starved to death and he rescued her. She even has a permanent connection between him and the idea to go hunting to sustain her family.

In her psyche, Peeta is her savior. Of course she needs him. Of course she clings to him in life-and-death situations, when she's afraid, etc. Of course "it was always going to happen."

Gale said once, "the only thing I had going for me was that'd I could protect your family." (Paraphrased)

But Peeta, indirectly, at least in Katniss's view, has done all that and more. Katniss would never even have MET Gale if it wasn't for Peeta.

Perhaps it's just the canon explanation for an IRL predetermined outcome, but the role of trauma in Katniss' psyche deserves to be talked about.

[thatlittlemouse]

i'm so tired of the common fandom perception of wu xie that it's actively demotivating 😞

it's not even about "what age should wu xie look like", it's that everywhere i look on wb/lof i see this bubbly bright eyed college student and i don't know who that's supposed to be half the time, that's not the guy i've been reading about in any book written in the last 10 years at least

[there-will-be-a-way]

Logically I know... In the state I am rn... I should admit myself to a psych ward. But I would worry my friends and family.

The last few weeks made me realize I live more for others than I do for myself. My family told me I'm self centered but with every decision I make, I put their feelings first. I can't do this anymore. My social worker told me we could get me out of here anytime. Even if it meant staying at a shelter for homeless people. But what about my belongings? My parents would be in so much pain.

But today something clicked in me. That we live in different worlds. They don't understand me - and it's not about blame, it's about different life experiences. Which doesn't matter in the end. I want to be with people who get me. People with a different kind of life. Like my friends.

They can't understand. Unless they wind up in a similar situation than mine, they'll never understand.

For most of my life, even during my hardships, I had a plan. I knew where I wanted to go. I had a plan. Now I don't. I just genuinely don't know what to do. I don't. I feel truly and utterly helpless - and more sorry than I could ever put into words. So much guilt.

If yesterday, my acquaintance wouldn't have driven me home, I wouldn't have gotten here. I wouldn't have made it.

I can't care for myself at the moment. So humiliating. Such a shame. So much helplessness.

But I will end up figuring it out. Even if that means asking for more help than I deserve.

[outeremissary]

kasander + 😴 please!

Thank you ❤️ Sleep questions about D&D elves always lead peculiar places, don't they?

hc + 😴 for a sleep-themed headcanon

Kasander seldom sleeps willingly. Their trance is already haunted by half-alien memories of blood and darkness, disorganized images they struggle to stitch together and match to their origins. It's upsetting even without any supernatural incursion causing more extreme visions, and it makes them fear resting. Sleeping, on the rare experiment trying to avoid the memories, is much worse. They always dream, and they always dream Bhaal's dreams. And it takes such a terribly long time to wake. So they avoid sleeping, and they're thankful not to have a reason to.

However, sleep is the most convenient way for the Emperor to contact them, and the Emperor has a way of pulling them under whenever he pleases. When they first met and the Emperor was still in the form of the Dream Visitor the Emperor offered to soothe their nights from the restless, terrible trance by quieting their dreams- if only they would sleep, of course. Disoriented, still largely amnesiac, and distressed by the visions, Kasander agreed eagerly (there was a lot of agreeing with the Emperor then) and committed themself to the psionic protection out of desperation for any relief from the growing fear there was something wrong with them. It did seem to work- mostly- but when Kas began to break with the Emperor they stopped sleeping nightly as well. By that point they were ready to grapple with the horrors of trance again, as painful and difficult as they were.

[deeplovelydark]

I'm stuck in some kind of purgatory where my mother keeps asking me over and over to explain depression to her (my behavior when I'm showing symptoms of it) but every time I try to tell her about depression as a concept she says it's not real. and then we do it again. and again

[theokusgallery]

What do you think Nick and Sunny's ethnicities are?

I've always somewhat headcanonned Sunny as Japanese-American, and Basil as having at least one European parent, both living in Europe, and an American grandmother. I have no idea where that second headcanon comes from. It's probably me projecting my own French-ness onto my favorite little blorbo -- another explanation is that OMORI seems to be pretty explicitely set in the USA, but Basil's parents are said to travel frequently and Sunny's never seen them in his life... and since it's easier to travel in Europe in my (limited) experience, my brain might've just made the association. Sunny being Japanese-American is a pretty popular headcanon because of his chara-design so I don't feel like I have to explain that one.

Anyway, they both live in France for plot reasons.

[ryusaidate]