#other than inertia

[thedreadvampy]

my therapist spent today's session making Faces at me about getting an ADHD diagnosis

which

I can honestly say I have never seriously considered the possibility of seeking an ADHD diagnosis but she might not be a billion miles off

I was describing how I get "fizzy bored" where I have no energy or ability to move and nothing holds my attention but I feel like my bones are trying to vibrate out of me with the desire to be Doing Things and she was like 🤔 and I got onto the fact that I often need to be doing 3-4 things at once to ease into focusing on one and she was like 🤨 and then I mentioned how I find it really difficult to start doing things but once I'm in it I'm super focused and she was like 😌 have you considered the possibility of an ADHD diagnosis?

and so I explained that I don't really see the point because even though, unlike EDS and autism, a diagnosis could suggest an actual treatment, I don't really feel like anything I've described is disabling me cause I have the tools to manage it now most of the time and I feel Fizzy Bored WAY less often these days. and she was like 🤨

and I was like yeah to be fair actually I did use to think that about chronic pain, trauma and having shit eyesight and doing something about them did really change my experience. and she was like 😌 and I was like and actually now we mention it the fact that I sometimes for NO REASON AT ALL simply put off doing things even though they would be really easy to do and I want to do them for LITERAL YEARS is maybe. A thing that it might be nice to change if I could. And she was like 🤔 and I was like OH FUCK I'M GOING TO HAVE TO GENUINELY CONSIDER THIS POSSIBILITY AREN'T I?

anyway after talking a mile a minute and overrunning by 15 minutes I then got a quarter of a mile away on foot and realised I'd left my glasses on her table. she opened the door I went HEY SPEAKING OF ADHD

[lightdancer1]

And frankly I don't care what fanon says:

We have seen how Death and Dream interact. She never has a problem calling him on his shit, and the serious shit. I really don't think that Death and Dream discussing Nada in the Season of Mists was the first time it ever came up.

The surprise here would not be that the topic came up, but 1) that Death and Desire, who have a relationship at least as hostile or moreso as Desire and Dream agreed on something of importance and said so in a short span of time, and/or 2) that Dream actually was willing both to listen and to act on it. And here, at least, is one case where the fishbowl would probably make a difference in Dream being willing to hear this and to admit he made a mistake instead of spitefully doubling down and lashing out about it.

I can't see Death staying completely silent about it for 10,000 years. I can see that where she and Dream had some major arguments would have been this and that Dream wouldn't have taken it well in the past. Dream acting on that, Dream admitting he was wrong, is a key turning point in his fate and where he first begins to face the dual choices of changing or death.

[cryptocism]

Four's portrait on the "family tree" genuinely startled me when I first saw it. Bravo, it's seriously horrifying to look at but it's so fitting after having read the chapter

Three is such a magnificent bastard, he's my favorite character, and I'm eternally rooting for his demise

thank you!!! yeah i knew i wanted this chapter to be Spooky Scary in tone to set Three up as a formidable antagonist and a large part of that was thanks to Four's corpse just being there like the whole fucking time. An EXTREMELY off-putting vibe.

[psilactis]

as a person who grew up loving anime and seeing the relevance and importance of found family over blood family, and as a young queer adult who keeps reading about how important community is for a person whose very identity goes against the 'traditional family' it's (really) kind of disheartening to realize I'm never going to have my own found family. Especially when your blood family just... Isn't there

[hauntedfalcon]

@nonhoration right?! every time I think about how much a meatspace nonprofit could accomplish with the money AO3 is doing nothing with, steam comes out of my ears. flames! on the side of my face!

[butchlinkle]

How I Animate

The Technique:

I draw the frames and then I use the liquify tool to push the lines into the next frame and redraw them where I need to. This allows me to keep the lines consistent, but gives me the control of frame by frame animation bc I am still making each frame manually! I also use 3d models as reference to help me with the angles! Super important to use reference while you animate (and with art in general), if youre no good handling 3d models then act it out and record yourself!

The Theory:

i think most people are at least loosely familiar with the 12 principles of animation (if youre not, heres a 2.5 minute video showcasing them!), but may not necessarily know how to employ them. the main 3 i tend to focus on when I animate is rhythm, telegraphing, and inertia so ill cover those there 👍

1. Timing & Rhythm

Timing is how you space out your frames both in how long an individual frame is held for, and also when you drawn an inbetween of two frames you can favour one frame slightly more than the other instead of drawing the exact average of the cels, giving the favoured cel more timing weight.

Left line has the cels evenly spaced out on the timeline, right holds the first cel for longer and the second cel slightly favours the last frame. It creates a more interesting rhythm to the animation! Rhythm is how I think of animation timing. Theres a beat like a song to every animation I make, and creating an interesting beat is what makes an animation fun to watch (for me, anyway):

2. Anticipation / Telegraphing

Before I animate a big change in movement, I like to telegraph that its coming. Usually this is doing a little counter movement in the opposite direction, but thats not the only way to telegraph a motion, e.g. eye movement can telegraph a head turn!

3. Follow-through / Overshoot / Inertia

Unless the movement is mechanical, it wont come to a hard stop and will have some level of bounce or easing out to it. How much "bounce" you add will have a big impact on how the animation feels, but a very subtle bounce will add a natural feeling to the end of a motion.

Secondary animations will use a lot of this, note that the head and the hand have a small amount of continuous motion (primary animation), and then the hair has a lot of bounce and inertia (secondary animation which reacts to the primary animation). Note the different amounts applied to the braid vs the sideburn vs the bangs

anyway! I hope this was insightful ❤️ if you like my art you can commission me by the by :)

[cesium-sheep]

yeah no her executive is dysfunctioning pretty hard today even though she said she felt fine. so today will probably be worse for both of us than if she'd just had work like normal. yippee.

[jacksoldsideblog]

trying to decide whether to do another study of a still from the movie or to get started on another fic now that i marinated on the idea long enough. the answer is to work on my proposals and study but i dont want to do that,

[unproduciblesmackdown]

also found this person's summary of summer stock illuminating:

"Summer Stock Musical 🍒I know this is a bit different from what I usually post but I could not write about it! Summary: Set in the 1950s, inspired by the movie with the same name. It's about a girl named Jane and her family's farm. Jane and her father struggle to meet the work demands of their farm's summer harvest. As their employees and nearby farms are entirely bought out by the Windgates. They are the last family-owned farm standing, all hope seems lost. Until Jane's sister, Gloria gets the female lead role in her theater company. In an attempt to impress the director, Joe, Gloria suggests that she has a place for them to use. Since the group keeps bouncing from place to place, Gloria takes them from the city and to her family's farm in the country. Jane, shocked by the unexpected visit by her sister and company in tow, she's very against them using the barn for their new production. But after a music number, a deep conversation with her sister, and a failed marriage proposal by Windgates' son which reveals Windgates' true intentions. Jane agrees, as long as they help with this summer's harvest. As the barn is converted to a theater for their new show, funny antics, drama and inspiration pursue. As Jane accepts theater and her dreams back into her life, she ends up falling in love with Joe and becomes lead lady as her sister ends up becoming producer. In a last-ditch effort, they use their new show to save the farm by hosting a grand opening night for everyone in show business to come see. Even though Margaret Windgate throws multiple roadblocks in their way, these sisters and company aren't determined to give up so easily. It's an amazing musical and I haven't had this much fun at a show in a while! It's genuine and has amazing characters and dialogue. It's like a breath of fresh air. I love everything about this musical! It's so funny! I love the sisters' bond. The choreography was stunning. I love the use of old music and songs. Honestly, I didn't know it was inspired by a movie. There's just so much I want to say about it. Honestly, I really hope to see it again, and somehow it can become mainstream. It's such a feel-good musical! ♾️/ 5⭐️"

put together w/various other pieces of info (list of initial songs/scenes, highlights video, a review's details) confirming that orville does propose to jane and they just get that out of the way so soon that it's presumably the wingates' introduction, that "always" sequence being early & the first listed to take place at the wingate house. which is just funny & then potentially does free both orville & jane up to like, just clearly not be engaged, whether or not they Ostensibly are....then intrigued about how orville ends up at the barn to have an adorable meetcute probably via piano with phil; maybe he's just supposed to be convincing jane to accept the proposal & in actually not being that into that task is able to wander around & get musical with it

also shoutout to mentioning gloria further, the details of her plotline remain relatively elusive (so does pop falbury's but i kinda just figure he's more of this steadfast supportive parent out here) and i was wondering if she isn't even in that lead role that jane ends up with, here it seems that she Is, but is also clarifying that she ends up in the producer role really, and i'm gonna presume that's her discovering better what she likes to do rather than like, just that she has to get out of the way for jane, same as how idk if there's as much glorville as there is orvphil apparently lol, Again simply no info i've found yet, but i am gonna imagine that if there is it's also more "open-ended" as in like, no supposed touchstones of Official romance, but. and like Why Not figure that these two people who are both discovering their passion for behind-the-scenes theatrical goings on might just be like oh hey, on the same wavelength, working together, getting along. i imagine that the show gives both orville and gloria arcs in their own rights rather than being people basically in jane's way, and everything seeming to suggest that gloria and jane's relationship is great is like yeah thank god, crucial shift thank you

[diorcities]

── ꒰͡⠀𝅄⠀͡꒱ ۟ nct dream and their gestures w you !

nct dream suggestive headcanon. library.

haechan. putting a hand on your back pocket. the gesture seems possessive and at the same time relaxed, something he does absentmindedly and out of inertia when you are near or when he wants you to get closer to him. but of course, the glance he casts fleetingly at the guy who's been staring at you all night doesn't go unnoticed. the warmth radiating from his hand on your ass causes your stomach to shrink and flutter furiously, especially when you sense him squeezing it a little bit as he pretends you won't notice. he likes to do it because he knows the effect it has on you and because it keeps assholes at bay, and if he wants to take it a little further, he would make out with you as he does it.

jisung. ass slap. can't help it. you look good in those jeans, but he likes to do it especially when you're walking around in your underwear. the image doesn't leave his head, imprinted in his memory that he replays over and over again until his hand tingles with the desire to spank you. the tingling in your skin leaves you a little bewildered. it always takes you by surprise and causes a tingling sensation to take over your senses. he likes the high-pitched cry in awe that assails you before you turn around and stare at him in a daze. caught. his cheeks blush furiously, but from the way he giggles and avoids your eyes you know he would do it again. swear to you, he'd do it again. and you're not gonna lie, you find it attractive since he sometimes squeezes you before letting you go.

jeno. manhandling. when he moves you from here to there like it's nothing. sweeps you by the waist without effort, it surprises you of course. you're not very light, but jeno makes it look like he can do it blindfolded and with just one finger. it's probably because he's a big boy, he makes you feel safe, and every time he pulls you in somewhere he wants, you can't help the furious butterfly wings that hatch in your gut. the fact that he always draws you to himself makes you lower your guard a little and let yourself go, although sometimes he doesn't control his strength and you end up looking like a rag that he moves at will.

renjun. back hugging. He can't find a way around it. glued to you anytime, anywhere. in the bathroom, in the kitchen, whenever you're doing something, he finds a way to wrap his steady arms around your waist and pull you to him, his body heat coming through the cracks into your heart. beefy chest pressed against your back, hands deliberately drawing circles on your bare belly. you can't move easily with his grip, moving slightly only causes his crotch to be buried between the line of your buttocks. oh. he visibly knows what he's doing. it almost feels like he's making the gesture to rub himself against you, but he promises that most of the time he just wants to melt into you..., so that other parts of his body get excited in the process is something else.

chenle. jealousy. his expression makes him more attractive and appealing than he is already. just because he clenches his jaw and his eyes seem like they'd be able to blaze someone with just a glare. 'cause his grip on your waist tightens when a guy comes up to you and visibly only talks to you, excluding his presence rudely. his whole aura changing at the same time as he becomes more sarcastic and sardonic. clearly bugged, and apologetically scoffing with the man's attitude towards you because how dares he. his hand going up your back and resting on your shoulders to pull you to him and kiss you in front of him unscrupulously.

mark. quick reflex. something endearing about him reacting fast. he looks like a little spider, already prepared for any situation. catching you almost immediately when you trip over, grabbing things in the air without thinking, and preventing something from falling to the ground. you allow yourself to be more clumsy because his spider senses are always kicking when he's with you. it makes you feel safe and sound that he's always taking care of you. you obviously find it fascinating, dazzling that his reflexes are so fast. catching him off guard is no easy task and even if he is not paying attention, he is in some way. he doesn't really understand what you find attractive about it, but it's because he just can't see his arms flexing to catch something in the air or his face focused when his reflexes strike in.

jaemin. watching over you. when you leave the cupboard open and your head threatens to crash into it, so he puts his hand in to cushion the blow. when he covers your bodies with a blanket after the rush goes down and you feel suddenly shy that he sees you so bare. when you hug him and your skirt is very short so his hand immediately goes towards the fabric to pull it down, his warm fingers brushing the skin of your inner thighs fleetingly, causing a black hole to open in your stomach and clog your senses as he holds you tight against him. it seems so simple but so appealing to you, enticing flustered emotions to take over every time. you know he's aware of the effect his gestures have on you, so he'll probably keep adding more to the list if you keep blushing this cutely.

[chadleys]

moon sick. | astarion

›› pairing: astarion x f!reader

›› wordcount: 2.5k

›› genre: smut, established relationship

›› rating: 18+, mdni

›› synopsis: whilst on the road, you get your period. astarion, being the loving, caring, supportive boyfriend he is, offers to help. he has no ulterior motives. obviously.

›› warnings: period sex, bloodplay, unprotected sex, oral sex, dirty talk

you wake with a start, astarion’s cold arm a comforting weight across your waist. you can’t think what could have possibly woken you up so suddenly, as you listen for any untoward noises around camp. but there’s only astarion’s steady, gentle breathing behind you and gale’s obnoxious snoring echoing from the other end of the clearing.

as you settle back down on your bedroll, however, you become aware of something sticky and wet between your legs. could be that a wet dream concerning your beloved has you in such a state, but you don’t remember dreaming of him last night. no, now that your senses are returning to you, you remember that last night was reserved for another visit from your so-called guardian. so what … ?

you toss your end of the blanket aside and groan, throwing your head back against the pack you’ve set out for a makeshift pillow. doing so earns you another yelp; must have made contact with one of the stems of the many apples wedged into your supply bag.

astarion is on his feet in an instant, startling you; you weren’t even aware he was awake. not that elves ever truly sleep. it always slightly unnerves you to feel him levitating beside you in his meditative state. ❝ you’re hurt. ❞ his voice is rough, thick with inertia. ❝ i swear i’ll find whoever did this and bleed them dry. we should never have trusted that damned cleric; shar this and shar that. i’ll shove her blessed shar right up her — ❞

he’s already kicking his own pack aside to stomp his way out of the tent when you hiss, ❝ astarion! ❞

luckily he’s not too aggravated to stop and give you a glance back so you can explain in a low murmur, ❝ it’s my cycle … ❞

astarion stops short, one pale hand clutched to his chest. ❝ oh … i — ❞ he waves that same hand now toward the opening of his tent. ❝ i thought … ❞

❝ i know what you thought, ❞ you sigh, more weary knowing what’s to come over the next 7 days than you are of him, than you could ever be of him. ❝ but it’s not. so just come back to bed. please? ❞

❝ i thought you’d never ask … ❞ he purrs, back to his normal self.

unfortunately, you’re doubled over in pain before he’s even halfway back.

❝ i knew you were in pain. ❞ astarion’s back at your side in a flash. ❝ just tell me who and i’ll — ❞

❝ i am, ❞ you gasp, ❝ in pain. but … not because anyone hurt me. well, more like mother nature cursed me. ❞

a particularly bad cramp seizes you and your hand flies out, clutching the front of astarion’s silky tunic. you press your fingers in to feel his cold, broad chest. the sensation calms you a bit … until yet another bout of pain rolls through your midsection.

icy fingers find yours, ghosting over your knuckles. ❝ shall i … see if the druid can make you something? ❞

you shake your head, tugging at his shirt. ❝ just lay with me. please. ❞

astarion’s skin is blessedly cool against yours, as it always is. you lean into him, pressing your face against his frigid neck, soothing your burning cheeks.

his glacial hands find the edge of your tunic, and then the small of your back, which helps more than he could possibly know. you shudder against him, pushing, trying to get more of him.

❝ you know … ❞ astarion sniffs, delicate voice very close to your ear. ❝ i have heard of one thing that is guaranteed to relieve moon sickness. ❞

pulling back, you glance curiously up at him.

he has that rakish grin on his face that you’ve come to know all too well in the past weeks. his reddened eyes roll away from you. ❝ come now, pup. you must know what i mean … sex. ❞ your heart jumps into your throat at the thought; you’re sure astarion can feel it beating harder against his own chest.

suddenly, his mouth is just under your ear, teeth rasping against the exact place he’s fed from you dozens of times before. ❝ i can smell it, my love. ❞

you don’t answer immediately; while you can’t deny the thought appeals to you, if for no other reason than to rid yourself of these damnable cramps, you’re also apprehensive. astarion feeding from your neck is one thing — still intimate, but relatively normal by vampire standards. to have astarion feed down there, on that blood, feeding from your womb …

❝ you’re right, it’s a bad idea, absolutely disgusting. i don’t know why i — ❞

❝ do it. ❞

❝ eh … hm? ❞

❝ do it, ❞ you repeat, grasping onto him for dear life as another squeezing, crushing shock of pain settles in your stomach. ❝ please, astarion. i can’t take it anymore. ❞

it’s been many moons since your cycle has been this bad. traveling on the road without proper food or rest may finally be catching up to you, exacerbating things. not much you can do about that until you reach the city, though.

other than letting your vampire lover drink your blood, of course.

laying you gently back without another complaint, astarion slips the blanket off of you and reaches to undo your breeches.

anxiety overtakes you; there’s already blood on your trousers and the blanket, you’re going to have to wash them in the river as soon as you’re able. you can’t even imagine the scene underneath your pants … but you’re about to find out.

gently, astarion prizes the trousers from your legs, then gasps softly. ❝ oh, my love … ❞

prying your eyes from the ceiling of the tent, you finally look down. astarion is there, of course, looking lovely as always. except, however, the lines on his face look deeper, almost carved, and the dark circles under his eyes are darker, his eyes redder.

another spell of panic grips you; bright red blood is smeared across your inner thighs.

astarion looks dizzy as he takes you in, cold hands cradling the outsides of your legs. you’re about to apologize and shove him away, tell him this is a mistake, in fact you will ask halsin to make you something — and that’s when astarion mutters, ❝ you are exquisite, ❞ and dives in to have his first taste.

the feeling of his tongue on your thighs makes you shiver, and the cool night air wafting in from the tent flap isn’t helping. you grab the clean end of the blanket and drape your upper half, canting your hips up to tell astarion what it is you truly want.

because even through all the anxiety, there’s also a bubble of arousal blooming between your legs. astarion can’t tell, of course, not through all the blood down there, but you sure as hell can. you have the most perfect creature you’ve ever set eyes on between your legs; how could you not be aroused?

❝ all in due time, ❞ astarion chuckles, voice muffled against your thighs as he continues to clean you up. thoroughly. too thoroughly.

❝ you always tease, ❞ you whine, knocking one of your knees against his ribcage.

this time when his gaze flashes sharply to you, his eyes are the reddest you’ve ever seen them. it makes you shake.

astarion’s nails dig into your hips, deliciously, wickedly. you tremble, reaching for him. he chuckles and kisses the inside of one of your wrists, which leaves a smear of blood. ❝ always such a needy little pup for me, aren’t you? ❞

you don’t even have time to nod before he dives back in, his mouth exactly where you want it this time. his lips suction around your clit, tongue lapping out lower down to scoop a sizeable pearl of blood into his mouth.

this time, astarion is the one who shakes. he lays his cheek against your still-bloody thigh and shudders. ❝ you’re going to be the death of me, ❞ he sighs, and you can see him skirting his tongue around his mouth, flitting over his lips, savoring you.

you huff. ❝ you’ll be of me, too, if you don’t keep going. ❞

❝ so pushy, ❞ your lover mutters, but there’s absolutely no heat in his words as he obeys your command and buries his face back into your blood-soaked cunt.

for a while you just lie back and enjoy yourself, and let astarion enjoy himself as well. his arms are strong around your legs, holding you in place so you can’t squirm away. it feels way too damn good, you may have been tempted to try. but as it is, you can’t do anything but revel in the silky feeling of astarion’s tongue lapping up everything you have to give him, his fangs catching every so often on your clit, making you see stars.

at some point, you glance down at him and gasp. ❝ your shirt! ❞

you know how much he prides himself on his physical appearance, and now there’s blood staining the front ruffles of his normally immaculate tunic.

he glances down and tuts, frowning. ❝ oh well. it’ll have to go with the rest. ❞ just like that, he rips it off and tosses it with your soiled trousers.

he must be in heaven, you suspect, if he’s willing to discard his cherished clothing for you.

now shirtless, astarion gives one last gentle kiss to your clit and then slowly starts to climb your body. there’s blood dripping from his chin, staining the rest of the blanket wrapped around you. but more importantly, his broad chest is skating up the expanse of your bloody cunt as he comes, and your clit throbs seeing all that red coating his torso.

❝ astarion! ❞ you gasp, and he grins, mouth full of your blood.

❝ i’m loathe to ask you for a kiss, ❞ he whispers, so low you can barely hear him. ❝ just one. i promise. ❞

you swallow thickly, and he waits for you to lean up, pressing your lips to his in the softest kiss you can manage. blood squishes between you, and you can feel it coating your lips as you lie back down.

one lap of your tongue against your bottom lip and you grimace, spitting and rubbing at your mouth with the back of one hand.

astarion laughs heartily as you mutter, ❝ ugh, not for me. ❞

❝ more for me, ❞ astarion says, almost gleefully.

he’s obviously preparing to get back to it, but you keep him close with your hands on his shoulders. ❝ i want you. ❞

brows furrowed, astarion squeezes your waist. ❝ darling, you have me. ❞

❝ inside, ❞ you beg quietly, which you know enjoys immensely.

your next step might be a mistake, but you decide to chance it. bracing yourself with your legs wrapped around him, you thrust up, dragging your wetness along the front of his trousers. you can feel that he’s hard, and now there’s blood all over his pants. you’re hoping he won’t mind, considering his tunic is already ruined for the night as well.

luckily he doesn’t seem to, dark gaze sweeping down over the two of you covered in your blood, and then back up. ❝ i thought you’d never ask. ❞

his trousers quickly follow his tunic, erection jutting up between your legs.

❝ he looks happy, ❞ you giggle, as his swollen head prods at your blood-soaked entrance.

❝ to see you? always. ❞

having astarion inside of you is normally a relief, a release of all the rampant, pent up emotions this journey has bestowed upon you.

tonight is different.

with all that blood flowing south, your womb is aching, you're sore and swollen as astarion’s cock spears through your lips. every thrust sends a fresh flow of blood down his shaft, which earns you a tight growl from the vampire as he takes the backs of your knees in hand and shoves your thighs back toward your chest, eager to get even deeper inside of you.

and you’re eager to have him, nails digging into his chiseled back, the hard marble of his jaw knocking against your shoulder as his lips, slick with blood, find your ear again. ❝ are you feeling better, pet? does my cock soothe that ache inside of you? the ache that raged inside of you, until you met me? until i filled you up in every lovely way possible? ❞

his words make your brain go haywire, knees shaking around his ribcage, toes curling, your mouth rubbing comfortingly at his cool shoulder.

more than that, you do feel better. the more aroused you become, the more blood flows out of you, the less painful your cramps become. until you’re pushing down against him, trying to ride him at the same time as he’s shoving himself inside of you with reckless abandon. until you can’t remember why you started this in the first place, other than to wind up begging for him to finish inside of you.

❝ inside. please, astarion, inside … ❞ it’s hard to even think clearly enough to form words, your mind consumed with the sight of his beautiful body moving atop yours.

you assume he’ll make you beg, as he so often does; he loves hearing the desperate, pleading tone in your voice that tells him all he needs to know — you belong to him.

but he doesn’t. he fucks into you as hard as he ever has, his thick cock gliding against your engorged walls, making your eyes roll back.

and then the talking starts. the words that make you wish you knew whether or not vampires can actually have children. ❝ you want me to get you pregnant, love? want your belly to swell with my child inside of it? i will wait on you hand and foot, i promise. i would love seeing you walk around knowing you hold my heir, that you protected my seed so well that it grew into a child inside of you. ❞ astarion pauses momentarily to laugh, tugging your earlobe between his teeth. ❝ with all this blood, i know you must be fertile. ❞

both of you share a laugh, briefly.

and when you cum, together, he sinks his teeth into your neck with nothing but a quiet grunt, cockhead twitching and spurting inside of you.

you mewl softly, feeling the vampire trembling and shaking as he empties himself into you. your hands pet through his hair, soothe the back of his neck, across the scars circling his back.

the pain from before is nowhere to be found, replaced instead by a warm, fizzy feeling sitting low in your gut. astarion is bracing himself on his elbows above you, with obvious effort.

you pull him down to lay atop you; he’s not exceptionally heavy anyway.

❝ i love you, ❞ he sighs, nestling his face, chin still slick with blood, against your collarbone. ❝ and … promise me we can do that again. ❞

❝ i love you. and i promise. ❞

[wheel-within-a-wheel]

(2/2): What motivates you to succeed?

a wonderful woman who always cheers me on, her name is Mrs. diluc33rpm

[nanowrimo]

4 Tips for Autistic Writers

Autistic writers can face unique challenges when it comes to writing. NaNo Participant Auden Halligan has tips to handle some of those challenges!

So, you’ve just sat down at your desk, all ready to work on your next chapter, but you just can’t seem to start. Something is itching at your brain, and no matter how hard you think, you can’t figure it out. For autistic writers, that itch might be even harder to get around when compounded with autistic inertia, introspection issues, and sensory processing disorder — even if we were super excited to get started, sometimes the stumbling blocks are enough to keep us from going anywhere at all.

Here are four tips to identify your struggles and work around them rather than against them as an autistic writer!

1. Schedule your writing time appropriately

While keeping a schedule can help you stave off unwanted change in your routine, the need to switch to another task when the clock strikes the hour sometimes feels like a monumental task, one that eventually becomes detrimental to your creative pursuits.

If switching tasks is the biggest hurdle to your writing, setting a designated writing time with no other plans around it could do the trick. Oftentimes, just one hour of time to transition from doing dishes to sitting down at your computer to write is exactly what you need to get past that point and find your writing headspace.

2. Make sure your sensory environment is right

Sometimes getting into that writing headspace is harder than normal, but you can’t put your finger on a reason. Chances are, you’re not quite ready until you have your sensory needs met and you can fully focus on your story.

Personally, I like to be on the couch with my water bottle, a playlist at just the right volume, and a comfortable jacket or hoodie on. For you, the ideal sensory space might involve a desk and a snack, a pet nearby, and a quiet room. For others, it could be outside or even at a library or coffee shop. Autistic people are all different and so are their sensory needs, so this one is super subjective — do what works best for you!

3. Take breaks often

Writing can be exhausting, and if you’re struggling to keep going, you might need to take a pause. If you’re like me and struggle with remembering to hydrate and eat once you’re deep in a task, use your break to get some water and a snack. If you’re having trouble staying focused, get up and move around and stim or go outside to give your brain a reset. If you feel like you’ve gotten some good progress done, however small, reward yourself — do something related to your special interest, dance with a pet, and celebrate your little (or big!) win!

The pomodoro method is a good way to keep yourself from working too long without a break, and if that doesn’t work for you, methods like the Eisenhower method with breaks interspersed and even simply inserting breaks into your scheduled writing time are just as valid.

4. Don’t be afraid to skip around

Another thing that often trips us autistic people up is needing to follow the story down its natural progression, from start to middle all the way to the finish. But inevitably, once we’ve gotten past the initial excitement of having the project started, we hit a stumbling block…and the project gets abandoned. I’ve left behind countless projects because I lost interest after hitting a scene I wasn’t excited for after just a few chapters.

To combat this, try writing out of order! Skip ahead to the scene directly after your stumbling block. You could also skip to the next scene your favorite character is in or even to the climax if it helps you move forward. If you’re having trouble putting your first words down, try writing a random scene in the middle of your story to get into the groove of writing your characters.

Alternately, if you can’t abide by the out of order method and really need to get your characters from Point A to Point B, try putting the scene you’re stuck on in brackets. For example:

[Character 1 and Character 2 fight over the decision to kick Character 3 off the team. 2 leaves in anger.]

It’s simple, efficient, and gets you out of that particular rut so you can keep moving toward that sweet, sweet conversation you’ve wanted to write since Day 1.

Now go forth and write, my friends!

Auden Halligan is a creator through and through. She’s been writing her entire life, but didn’t start participating in NaNoWriMo until 2017–right now she’s working on developing a TV series (or two!) and has several novels and short films in the drafting phase. Auden is currently a college student studying film production and hoping to minor in disability studies. You can find her on her very sparse Twitter at ink.and.spite. Photo by Lisa Fotios from Pexels

If you’re an autistic writer, check out the Pillow Fort in the NaNoWriMo forums! It’s a group for people who are neurodivergent, have disabilities, mental health concerns, or physical challenges that affect their lives.

[hwaightme]

My star

(masterlist)

⭐ pairing: bf!idol!seonghwa x gn!reader ⭐ genre: comfort, fluff, established long-term relationship, long distance ⭐ summary: many miles might separate you, but they mean nothing when your heart is with him, and his heart is with you. ⭐ wordcount: 2.3k total ⭐ warnings/tags: sfw, semi-edited, horrifically self-indulgent, longing/missing someone, matchy-matchy type of couple, balanced relationship, safe spaces, communication, heart eyes, stress/tiredness, rumination, unconditional love, comfort, being vulnerable, odd sleep patterns, lmk if anything else ⭐ taglist: at the bottom of the fic ⭐ a/n: seonghwa <3 i hope this brings comfort to anyone who reads <3 reblogs, thoughts and feelings appreciated. much love!

Some days were easier than others. Wrapped up in the hustle and bustle, sinking into meetings, letting yourself get carried away by projects. Some days it was easier to forget, at least for a moment, the hollowness that persecuted you with ever-growing vigour. Concealing sentimentality and melancholia, you skillfully navigated your life until you could hide away, and in the comfort of your own, empty apartment, allowed yourself to curl up into a ball in your bed and wonder why it was that some days were like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings, while others, like a viscous putrid tar.

Today was one of those days. On edge, impatient and begging for a break, you stumbled over yourself as you counted down the seconds until you could be painfully alone. The hurt had become your best friend amidst all the changes, and you wanted nothing more than to drown in it when the times got tough. Accumulating short ends of a variety of sticks even when things were going well, you were caged in the creativity of your turbulent mind. You did not need enemies, being your own best one. 

Normally, coming home would be enough. It just so happened that you had the cure, the relief, the peace, who would stand and wait for you with open arms. You called yourself blessed - you well and truly were. In a world that was stuffed with defeat and enemies, you had someone who was always on your team. Without words, without explanation, you would be soothed. There was no need to ever dwell on complexities and tear into negativities - they all evaporated after the keeper of your heart, your starlight would embrace you. But when only the echo bouncing off the walls was there to greet your shattered presence, whatever had been gnawing at your defences would draw blood and turn into a brutal torturer.

You slid off your shoes, moving exclusively by inertia left over from powering through your commute. After washing your hands, you decided to forgo the kitchen, ambling towards the bedroom that you had gotten so used to sharing. Ghostly, dim, exhausted interiors that would glow whenever he was around. You touched the switch on the floor lamp, hesitating for a second before remembering what you had been told before - if your own sun wasn’t shining too bright, turn on all the bulbs around you until you believed the same could be done to you. Was the room always this dark?

It was impossible to say when you fell asleep. At some point after changing out of your office wear and into your pyjamas, which consisted of a half-hearted combination of tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt, along with a hoodie which your boyfriend had made a point to leave for you, you ended up crawling onto the bed, only just managing to lift the sheets and snuggling under into a somewhat comforting huddle of cotton before darkness enveloped you. Was Seonghwa asleep? Was he awake? Has he been eating well, working and relaxing in balance? Questions flooded your mind as your bleary eyes attempted to blink away your sleepiness. At this point, you were not quite sure if it was a mere physical state, the heaviness of your eyelids having become near-chronic.

He was out there, under the same sky, seeing it in slightly different shades, but he was out there. Was he lonely too? Hopefully no negative thoughts plagued him. Seonghwa deserved better. But… you could not help but listen to the little selfish worm in your mind - did he miss you? You could not deny that a part of you did long for the sensation of being missed by him. A lot. You clenched the edges of your, or technically his, sleeves and sighed. Pulling the hood over your head, you shut your eyes, trying to picture the last time you embraced the love of your life. How warm it had been. How safe. Washing away all the anxiety, all the pins and needles of stagnancy that came with unwelcome solitude. How he would say he was proud of you, and how you would be able to sit with him and listen to him talk about his day, running a hand through his soft, tousled locks. You have always been a listener. But what was there to listen to now, except the roaring waves of rumination?

What time was it where Seonghwa was? One quick unlock of the phone that you fished out from under the covers brought you the dual clock that you put on your home screen, and along with it, the realisation that you had slept through the entire evening, and through the majority of the night. Again. He was probably settling down, lying on his bed in the hotel room and playing Animal Crossing. Or did he find something else? Did he have the time and energy to play? Or perhaps there was another schedule that had crept up on your boyfriend out of the blue… You mused in total silence while inspecting the background you had set - a picture from a date some weeks ago. Right before work summoned him to leave once more, and you were left standing by the window, watching as his silver suitcase disappeared in the back of a minivan. Rolling over onto your back, your eyes travelled to the skylight - another companion that attempted to soothe your loud mind with vistas and ever changing colour palettes of the universe above. The skies had been clear yesterday, and you wished that it was the case over there, where he was, too.

Your fingers moved on their own accord, opening the messaging app you two preferred to use, flicking through his and your barrage of back and forth texts, videos, photos, voice messages… a little life in the digital space. It would be a lie if you said there was little communication. In fact, if anything, you knew almost all the details about his activities, him gushing to you about whatever he could, and smiling sheepishly when something had to be kept a business secret. You were proud of him, most certainly. If only you could say this face to face. Then, for a short while, nothing would exist except you, him and endless conversation about everything and nothing as you would be entangled in one another, cuddling on the couch as some drama you two picked would be inevitably forgotten. A new message startled you out of your dream, immediately followed by another, and another that made you scroll all the way back.

> i just found your favourite ice cream at a store here!!!

> oh?

> love i can see you are in chat… are you awake :(((

With a quick turn, you stretched and flicked on the lamp on the bedside table, deeming the still-on floor lamp no longer sufficient. Wriggling upwards so you could hold your phone vertically, you pondered how you could write a message that did not sound too desperate. You were perfectly well aware that Seonghwa did not mind a little bit of clinginess - in fact, you had had a dedicated conversation early on in your relationship about affection and he had reassured you numerous times that, especially when on tour, he adored, and reciprocated that fondness and longing. But nonetheless, the annoying bugs that lived in your head and littered it with doubt and anxiety made you want to pull back and pretend like you were unaffected. And so, you kept on writing, and deleting. Writing and deleting. Until Seonghwa took the lead and messaged you again.

> call?

> i’m in my room

> [my star <3 sent 1 image]

The ghost of a smile danced over your lips when the picture loaded - an adorable duck pout, face incredibly close to the camera, but still giving enough space for you to be able to spot the backdrop - a painting, completed in spectacularly bland tones, that served as a prime example of how the hotel where your boyfriend was staying favoured ‘stock footage’-core, if you were to borrow his words. Your gaze could not leave the picture. Your silly, precious Seonghwa, pretty inside and out. On its own accord, your hand moved upwards until it hit ‘video call’, and simultaneously ignited a sudden nervousness. What if now was not really a good time? What if Seonghwa was tired and your less than cheerful disposition would only weigh him down?

“Hello lovely… ah, I see we are matching- wait let me make the light brighter-” you watched as he played with a remote, clicking through and checking his appearance on the screen until he gave a victorious giggle, and pointed at the hoodie, “see?”

“You look so cute and cosy, Hwa… And hello to you too,” you mumbled, settling into a more relaxed position.

“I should be saying that to you, you are literally huddled in bed…”

“Join me,” you suggested, half joking, half hoping that he would play along. Clearly you were long past playing guessing games with each other, as almost instantly, Seonghwa was rushing to his bed, rolling into a burrito until only the top half of his face was peeking out. For the first time in a while, you chuckled. 

“You come here often?” he wiggled his eyebrows before squishing his face into the pillow, only to turn it back to you again, a mixture of worry and love in his eyes, “...can’t sleep, angel?”

“Hmm… if anything I might have just accidentally slept too much.”

“Ah…” both of you knew all the reasons for your behaviour. The same exact ones that prompted your boyfriend to overfill his suitcase with trinkets and clothes that he could sense you would like, or that reminded him of you. Understanding washed over you both as you quietly regarded one another through the phone screens. In moments like these, the many miles that divided you appeared so miniscule that it was agonising.

It was impossible to reach out and brush back the strand of hair that was threatening to poke his eye. It was impossible to fall into a dreamless slumber while listening to his calm, soothing heartbeat. It was impossible to gingerly squeeze his hand - an unspoken ‘I love you’, while floating in his starry eyes. But nothing in the world could take away the sincerity. The promises that turned into actions. This was your person, and you were his. As you studied Seonghwa, you felt the frustration, the pent up rage, the fatigue start to evaporate, leaving behind only a soft cloudlike fuzziness. A crush that would never go away, no matter how many years you would be together. He was your clarity, and with him it was the easiest thing in the universe to look at your troubles once again and see that you could take them on. No challenge on your path could hurt you. Not when he made you feel invincible, and even just by being present, reminded you of how you were simply priceless.

“So… tell me about the ice cream,” you tried, your voice sounding a little raspy. Seonghwa’s face, which had previously been painted over with concern, turned into the brightest sunlight. He beamed, and launched into a detailed recollection of what to anyone else would be beyond mundane. Not to you. Never to you. Never about your lovely star.

As he moved just a fraction, forcing the hoodie to glide forwards and expose more of his collarbones, you noticed that he was wearing the necklace you had gotten together - a two-piece set. Instinctively, your hand moved to feel for the chain that adorned your own neck. Two lego pieces that when put together formed a heart. The epitome of sickeningly sweet couple cooing, but it ended up being the best representation of you both. Unbeknownst to yourself you smiled even wider as the piece grew more prominent against his skin whenever it caught the light that enveloped his room in a warm optical lullaby. The change in your expression evidently did not go unnoticed, as Seonghwa paused, and with a light smirk, sat up to let the light cast wondrous shadows on his features. It was probably silly, how deep you had fallen for him, and how obvious it was, no matter what you did and how you acted. All he had to do was turn his head or say the word, and you would come running all these thousand miles to do anything at all. Really, what was stopping you?

Maybe the fact that someone had to water your boyfriend's beloved pet moss. Or that you had committed yourself to dusting and keeping the apartment pristine despite not being fond of the activity. Or, well, your own life, of course. If anything, your boyfriend would be most distressed if you gave up on yourself. As Seonghwa continued his monologue, now having moved onto discussing the next group activities and travels, you realised you had much to do. Much to work and live for. Distance or not, you were with him. And the least you could do was to balance and maintain a smitten hopefulness. With a partner like Seonghwa, who stopped to check the countdown on his phone to announce that it was only ‘a week, five days, and sixteen hours’ until he would take you to one of the many restaurants he had marked out in the city, you were safe to love hard. Forever and always. And could, in fact, live easy, knowing that while your heart was out there conquering arena after arena, stadium after stadium, his heart was right here with you. Your star with whom you could fearlessly conquer the dark, and celebrate the shimmering dots of happiness that decorated your cosmic canvas. Your story. You and him.

⭐ perma-taglist: @shakalakaboomboo @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @maddkitt @ren-junwrld @pyeonghongrie-main @marsstarxhwa @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @lucky-cat-cafe @northerngalxy @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu

enjoyed? do consider reblogging <3 thank you, all the love <3

[drchucktingle]

the inertia of all things

some days the trot is more difficult than others, thats part of the journey. it is okay to feel sad and upset. but this timeline will keep rolling and when you are ready there will be another chance to prove love then another and another. the inertia of all things is towards love

[lavandiors]

( 📁 twenty minutes. by lee haechan ＿ ⭐ O1O1 )

where haechan finds you in the practice room and can't help but want you all to himself.

𓍯 . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ─── pairing. lee haechan x idol!reader. genre. fluff, established relationship and lots of cuddles. warnings. a little hint, but nothing more.

lily notes. the truth is i had this idea for a long time (really a long time) but i didn't know how to write it, so recently i was able to achieve it. please leave a request if you want. <3

when you told haechan that your practice hadn't even started, it didn't take long for him to appear at the door of the rehearsal room.

you were stretching as you waited for your members to arrive, and seeing your boyfriend walk through the door was the last thing you expected to see.

you watched him open the door through the giant mirror in front of you, quickly turning in his direction as he closed the door behind him.

"hyuckie?" you asked confused, haechan dropped his backpack next to the door and walked towards you.

he walked calmly with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, a smile on his face at the sight of you. completely alone for him. and yes, you had seen each other less than two hours ago since you always sat together in the cafeteria, but you were so necessary to him.

two hours were torture for him.

he wanted to have you twenty-four hours a day. in his arms, snuggled against each other. allowing him to kiss every little corner of your body.

and now you were here. in front of him, with one of your dance pants and a shirt of his.

"hi baby" he greeted you, wrapping his arms around your waist like gum around a shoe.

he didn't even give you time to think when he already had his face buried in your neck and lifted you into the air. you laughed loudly when you felt him peck your neck with his lips.

"baby!" you let out that giggle that he loved so much. he took you to the couch where he dropped you, positioning himself over you afterwards.

you felt him settle between your legs as his breath hit your neck and his hands were firmer on your waist. he had missed you and you knew it, because he always did.

you dropped your hands into his dark curly hair, stroking it and tangling your fingers through it. he blew out warm air. “i missed you so, so much,” he said, his voice calm.

your throat let out a sound of approval. “i know, my love. i missed you too.”

"i'm glad to hear that," he replied, kissing your neck, shoulder, and collarbone.

his kisses were soft and full of love. demonstrating everything he had saved. and it was not necessary to have it stored when you were there. in his arms. just the way he wanted you.

he left his space on your neck, allowing you to feel the cold that hit his warm space. his face rose in front of yours, looking deeply into you from his dark, sleepy eyes.

"why was my girl alone?" he asked, bringing his lips to your eyelids, leaving kiss after kiss on your beautiful eyes.

they were your window to show your feelings. it was what haechan adored the most.

“the girls will be here in twenty minutes” you whispered, trying not to get carried away by his affection. but you were melting under his lips. it was an impossible mission.

he growled, placing one last kiss on your right eye, “twenty minutes with you isn’t enough” haechan had that ability to turn into a baby whenever he wanted.

he tightened his grip on your waist, letting his forehead fall against yours.

"i know baby, but after practice you can keep me all night" you left a kiss on his pout. he nodded slightly.

his pout turned into a smile "i have a few ideas" he whispered against your lips, you smiled out of inertia "i would like to know about them"

haechan laughed “my dirty girl” he said before capturing your lips in a deep kiss. the kiss wasn't even a needy or dirty one after that complement. it was as sweet and slow as a song from the medieval years.

slowly, it was his lips on yours. soft, it was your hands on his cheeks and his on your waist and stomach. sweet, it was his tongue against yours, not in a battle, in a pious dance where you demonstrated your love for the other.

"i love you so much, that i feel like i could die right now," he whispered into the kiss, deepening it even more. his teeth found your bottom lip, biting it lightly but repeatedly. he drove you crazy, but sweetened.

you brought your hands to the back of his neck to press your lips more against yours. "i love you too, too much" you couldn't say more, because haechan had already lifted you from your back to leave you on his lap.

he caressed the curve of your waist, the one that connected with your butt, and squeezed gently as his eyes penetrated yours.

his messy hair was tangled in front of his eyes, his lips were red from that kiss and his admiring eyes before you were a waste

“you are my angel, only mine” he whispered, bringing his face closer to your shoulder “only” he kissed your jaw “mine” he kissed your lips, tightening his grip on your waist.

you melted, and he felt it, you dropped your weight onto his lap and your legs lost that stability. that force that only he made you lose or make you win.

your hands settled on the back of his neck again, as you let him kiss you even more. when you separated, the thread of saliva continued connecting them.

how your eyes connected with his. how his heart connected yours.

it was your turn to let your head fall into his neck, settling in and grinding your chest against his. his arms wrapped around your waist completely, sliding his hands under your shirt.

a protective grip, while letting his head rest on your shoulder. rubbing his jaw there in search of leaving a mark that you were his alone.

"never stop being who you are" you whispered in his ear "because i love every part of you"

haechan kissed your shoulder and neck. you could feel his quality smile on your neck and his slow, soft caresses on your back.

"and you never stop being my girl," he whispered, "because i love that you are."

© LAVANDIORS | do not copy, translate or steal my works.