#welcome to the unfiltered Me Experience

[writingfool001]

How Foolish of Me (Floyd x Gn! Reader)

Hello! I'd like to request for an angsty scenario where Floyd stops hanging out with his SO because he got bored of them. Happy or sad ending, it's up to you! Thank you~ @thecurrator

Sorry for the long wait, I have been busy with school and life. Now, go put on some sad music and hope you all enjoy the piece!! Love you guys!

Were you just playing with me all this time?

You thought as you walked along the cobblestone walkway, letting your mind wander, while heading back to Ramshackle. It was a chilly and clear night, a perfect night for couples to go stargazing and curl up together, yet here you were, walking by yourself. Grimm was spending time at the Heartslabyul with Deuce and Ace while you headed back, telling them you were feeling tired and wanted to just go crawl into bed.

It wasn’t entirely a lie, you just wanted to be alone and curl up in bed, under the blankets while isolating yourself from the world.  Sometime away from the tasks Crowley gives you, the chaos the trio would cause while you and the rest watched people, and not to mention him. Even if it was for a couple of days. You knew that this day would eventually come, just not this quickly.

Floyd, a colorful person who always kept you on your toes and clung to you as he would tell you about everyone unfiltered. He always kept your days filled with mischief and chaos, but enjoyable at the same time. Even with his mood swings, you would adjust and help the best you could. You’ve lost count of the time you two would dance the night away without a care in the world. He had you experience freedom and being a normal student, not one having to play therapist or having to save the school from a dangerous situation. All those times you two would spend together, thinking they would last for a while longer, but everything good comes to an end.

You unlocked the door with your key and walked through the door, letting the peaceful atmosphere welcome you as warmth engulfed you. Ramshackle, it may not look like much, it was enough for you, even before the renovations. You took your coat off and headed towards the stairs, ignoring the memories of the past dancing around the lounge with faint laughter and music.

As the tub filled, you grabbed a towel from the closet before pausing as your hand touched a familiar material as it hung there among your clothes.

You both went out to the beach, late at night, well more like snuck out. You were kicking around in the water and enjoying a walk, but your clothing wasn’t withstanding the cold breeze. Floyd noticed you shivering before taking his jacket off and smiling at you. He teased you about how he always has to look after his Koebi-chan and teases you about where you would be without him before throwing his jacket on you. Flustered, you slip it on and cherish the mixture of warmth and his smell. After that, you kept it in your closet as something of his to wear around the dorm while he was working at the lounge.

You just stared at it before grabbing it as well as other things of his before putting it all in one of the spare paper bags from Sam’s shop. You put all the photos and mementos in a shoebox and shove it away to be forgotten about before grabbing the towel and heading to the bathroom, making sure the tub didn’t overflow.  

Climbing into the steam tub, you sat there as you took care of yourself as you enjoyed some music you put in the background to fill the silence. You sunk yourself under the soapy water and stayed there for a while, thinking back to times you shared with that insufferable merman and how easily you let your walls down to only be used as entertainment for him in the end. You felt your lungs began to burn, reminding you for the need of oxygen, before resurfacing and stared down at your pruney hands. Better get to bed or else you would fall asleep in the tub.

Once you decide to get out of the bath, you dried off and changed into your pajamas before leaving the bathroom while drying your hair. You plop down on the bed and stare out the window, watching the stary night in the darkness of your bedroom. Tossing your towel aside, you immediately buried yourself under the blankets, still listening to the soft music playing in the background and got comfortable for the night as you thought back on earlier today.

“I can’t do this anymore. Not with you?” He said as you two stood in there as you finally were able to get him to talk to you.

“What? What is that supposed to mean, Floyd?”

“You’re boring, that’s what I mean. I’ve been putting up with you for a while now and now I can’t do it anymore. You know boring things have no use to me.”

“You don’t mean that.” You calmly said, holding back your tears, as you watched the boy you love say all this.  

“Man, why can’t you get it through that empty little head of yours and realize that I don’t want you around anymore. How could I ever want someone as boring as you in my life!”

“I thought I meant something to you?”

“That’s not my problem.”

Am I that boring? Perhaps you were just another toy to be thrown away? Guess being used until someone gets tired or until they make use of you is normal. Just more normal in this world than back home. How stupid you were to let him in as your head was screaming and flashing red. Love is many things, and it has many outcomes, here you are experiencing one of those outcomes and suffering the consequences of your choices. Was it love or just a facade to lure you into his trap? Why is this having such a big effect on you, you’ve dealt with deadly situations while almost dying countless times and surviving the chaos you go through each day. Why is this stupid boy having this big of an effect on you!?!?!

  Immediately, you sit up and slap both your cheeks as you sit there in the dark music filled silence. You decided that you wouldn’t let this affect you as you stared at your room, thinking back to all the work you put in cleaning it up as well as the other rooms. That’s it, you’ll fix up the rest of Ramshackle, using the frustration of Floyd towards doing something productive. You weren’t going to cry over and let this bullshit get the best of you.

Over the next couple of weeks, you spent your time alone fixing up the dorm, being a bad bitch by yourself. You repaired a majority of the rooms and some of the exterior, leaving it as it was before for Malleus to still have his ruins. During this time, your friends and professors noticed the change in your behavior and how you would have your hands covered in some bandages. Some were concerned but didn’t say anything and left you alone while others wanted to say something but waited for the right time.  

Malleus approached you when you were up late, working on some plants and the trees, and chatted with you as you worked. He asked what caused you to start fixing up the dorm and all you told him was that Ramshackle was there for you and you wanted to repay your gratitude. He saw that there was something else in your eyes but chose to say nothing as he patted your head.

You were in the middle of cleaning up the latest sleepover before hearing a knock at the door and went over to open it. It’s not the boys, they don’t bother knocking at this point, and Malleus came during his night strolls, Ortho was hanging out with Idia today, and no one told you they were planning to visit you today. You opened the door before wishing you didn’t and screaming internally to see your ex’s twin brother, Jade, standing at your door with some mushrooms in a basket.

“Ah Jade, I wasn’t expecting anyone to show up today.”

“I just got back from my hike and found the mushroom you were looking for, quite a bunch today.”

“How thoughtful, I actually have a couple of things for you to take as well. Give me a moment,” you said, before running off to the kitchen to grab the bag of some tea boxes you came across while in town as and the container of Octopus Carpaccio well as Floyd’s things from the hallway closet. You quickly return and hand him a bag along with the container. “Some tea you were looking for and some Octopus Carpaccio as long as you don’t tell Azul that you got it from me. “

“Thank you, (Y/N) I swear that this never happened, I will enjoy this later.” He smiled, putting the container in the bag. “My, it seems the rumors of the Ramshackle dorm getting a bit of a facelift is true. Having trouble with the exterior?”

“No, I wanted to keep it that way. Even though everyone else doesn’t like it, it’s grown on me over time. I have another favor to ask of you.”

“Yes?” He asked as you held out the bag of Floyd’s things and clothing out to him as he took it in his hand.

“Return these to Floyd for me, I found them while cleaning and thought he might want them back.”

“I see,” He spoke, staring down at what was inside the bag before looking at you. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just a couple scratches here and there,” You lied, using your injuries as a subject of the conversation.

“You and I both know that’s not what I meant, (Y/N),” Immediately some tension grew between you two as he figured out what went down just from your gestures and mannerism. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know, I’ve been too distracted to think about it and with your brother leaving me alone, I’ve had hardly any reason to think about it. I know it's not healthy to bottle it all up, but it's all I can really do, especially when I knew what I was getting into.”

“(Y/N).”

“You’d think after all the overblot and chaos this wouldn’t affect me, but it did, and it was foolish for me to let my walls down as well as my heart unguarded.” You felt tears start to well up before feeling a hand lift your chin, making you look at Jade, straight in his eyes.

“It wasn’t foolish of you, only of my dear brother, and I apologize for his actions. You should follow your own advice and not bottle up your emotions or else you’re going to run yourself into the ground.”

You only nodded and quietly said your farewell and thank you to Jade as you waved him off before closing the door. Jade sighed as he walked back to his dorm and pinched the bridge of his nose cursing under his breath.

“Floyd, as much as I love you, my dear brother, you can be such an idiot and a clownfish simultaneously.”

[dienamights]

A Reverberate Lullaby | K.Bakugou

✎ The echoing howls stalk you, a ghost hunched on your shoulders, wailing like a child calling for rescue, who cries with no tears. Chanting for a hero that is willing to pick up the pieces of its soul and being, yet it is only left to wither. For the ghost has lost faith that such others exist and can only be cured by finding them, for you are the ghost of your world and love is the only true exorcist.

✎ Protagonists: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.

✎ Word count: 4.1K

✎ Category: hurt/comfort, Implied Mature Content MDNI, Prohero!au, Established relationship!au

✎ Caution(!): Implied Mature Content MDNI, mention of depressive state, toxic family, toxic coping mechanism, mention of reader’s weight gain and thoughts about self worth. Please keep in mind while every person’s reaction to depression is different, don’t belittle anyone’s battle when you don’t understand it.

✎ Author’s notes: Hello! Hope everyone’s taking care! Still on hiatus BUT I’m here to post my contribution to the Mental Health Awareness collab by @doinmybesthere​ ! This has been in the works for a while because I kept scarping ideas for triggering me lmao. This piece is very personal to me and I’m glad I am able to share my experience with you all, I hope that it might help anyone out there in reaching out and asking for help because I know how difficult and scary it might be! Please check out everyone’s contribution that they worked so hard for! kisses kisses take care!

OOH ALSO! Thank you so much for 900 followers aaaaaah! You’re all so amazing and if anyone has suggestions for an event to hold in June lemme know! I’ll also think of some ideas

» Masterlist | Requests | Taglist

The morning sun barely rises and peaks through your blinds, sunshine starting to kiss at your cheeks as you squint at the light, the room welcoming the warmth that is being brought into it after the evening’s chill that made you curl tighter in on yourself, clasping whatever heat you could muster than to turn around and find it in the heating pad of a body that lays next to you. 

An alarm only just rings before quickly being shut off, followed by the creaking of the bed when the person behind you shifts, shifts again, another time, before getting up and stalking to the bathroom, after letting an elongated sigh when they sit at the edge of the bed, not acknowledging your presence accompanying theirs. The door clicking closed before the trickling of water fills the quiet room.

Your clock reads 5 am when you squint at it, and you blink at the time before you go on with your routine, setting up breakfast while your boyfriend gets ready to go to work. 

Oddly enough, you don’t really quite remember when you started working on the food, all that you could see in front of you is nothing but a scene that looks like it’s out of a broken TV - there’s just so much static. The voices are distorted, as if they’re coming from a defective radio.

“Listen, this ain’t about me, this is about you and how you-”

“What about me? Huh? That you see me as nothing but a burden? No, you can say it-”

“You wanna hear me fuckin’ say it then fine! This is about you sitting on yer ass all day obsessing over her while she wouldn’ give you the time of day y/n. When will you fuckin’ realize that?”

The scene blurs and sways, and you feel your mind run at a speed you didn’t know it could muster, and you’re unable to keep up with it. The knife in your hand shakes vigorously and barely misses your fingers when you bring it down to cut the vegetables.

The sound of the bedroom door shutting closed alerts you, straightening your back when you hear the drop of your boyfriend’s gauntlet by his chair at the dining table. Katsuki approaches you with careful steps, his still ungloved hand circles your waist before pressing his lips to your temple, a gruff greeting of a whisper laced in between.

“G’morning.”

The familiar scent of caramel mixed in with his aftershave welcomes you, wraps around you and cradles you, promising everlasting safety and happiness. Yet, your heart wrenching sobs and muffled crash of your laptop against your floor that rings in your ears tell a different story, shrieking at you, roaring about your failures, mocking your entire existence.

“Made gohan, should be ready in a minute.” you mumble back, posture stiff at the close proximity of Katsuki and you feel the curl of his lips in displeasure pressing into your temple from both not reciprocating his greeting and your choice of meal for the morning. “You don’ eat gohan,” 

“s’why I’m making it.” The quick retreat from your figure is like a slap to your face, and you barely stop yourself from reaching out and forcing his arms back around you. Because it's the bite in his voice that halts your movement. 

“You’re still going?” you finally turn to take a look at him, the garnets in his eyes shifting, bleeding from hurt, betrayal, confusion, you really weren’t sure. And by God you had no energy left to try and figure out. “Yes I’m still going Katsuki, they’re my-”

“Yer really listenin’ to the bullshit spillin’ outta ya? This isn’t about em being your family y/n, we’ve been through with it already.” the space between you two feels like endless miles, pieces of the broken bridge you both worked so hard to build the only evidence of it ever being there, the rest crumbling into the valley in between your bodies.

“No, you’ve been through with it, I just wanna make things right, m-maybe I can fix it”

“It ain’t yours to fix y/n, when will you realize that?”

“No!” there you go again, sobbing pathetically. “W-why can’t I have a family, huh? Why- why can’t I, fuck, have a family that just loves and supports me a-and just doesn’t- ” your voice croaks, not failing to notice how Katsuki stepped away from the wreck in front of him. Probably having had enough of you, had enough of how troubling and bothersome you are, probably wondering how he got roped with all your shit and got dragged into your mess of a life.

His hands feel like scolding fire when they’re placed on your shoulders, halting their shaking as you cry into the palm of your hand to muffle the sobs, a habit Katsuki has been working so hard on to help you overcome, saddened to see you try and hide your vulnerability from him.

“Because they never made an effort, so why should you?” The tugging at your heart burns, the swallowed sobs feel like needles prickling at your lungs, making breathing feel like an impossible chore. You can’t help but feel restrained whenever you’re presented with the truth, especially unfiltered and unsugarcoated like right now, you know he’s right, you’ve known he was right a long time ago, but admitting it out loud just felt borderline impossible. 

So you do what you do best, push him away, all the strength you can muster barely budges his figure, the meal forgotten on the counter as you run and lock the bedroom door on yourself.

Your footsteps feel heavy, dreading the topics and scenes you’re bound to relive. The grip on the strap of your shoulder bag tightening as you push the glass door open. A sigh escapes past your lips again as you enter the restaurant, half-heartedly smiling at the hostess before making your way inside to look for them.

It’s always the same scenery, the kind that always makes you want to run away to the other direction instead of being dragged down into whatever hell this is. And you pause to question yourself, again, why you actually agreed to put yourself out there.

There they are, seated in the four person table, with two empty seats, one for yourself and the other for the sibling your mother always hoped to have instead of you.

Your mother’s pursed lip could be seen from where you stand at the entrance, the clicking of her tapping foot sounding as bad as grinding metals in your ear, you hate it, despise it

It’s the same clicking you learned to memorize, to anticipate, to fear, when she passed by your room, the clicking that made you smother your face in your pillows and swallow your sobs, because the sound of you crying brought her more distress and annoyance than concern for her daughter.

With another tug at the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, you approach the table, hugging your father when he stands up and nodding to your mom when she eyes your figure.

“Good morning mother. It’s good to see you.”

“What’s wrong with your hair?”

Here we go, you breathe out before tugging at a strand of hair, spitting out your words “nothing’s wrong with it.”

“Then why does it look awful like that?”

There are times like these where you are left to question your reasoning for accepting whatever invitation you received from your parents to have brunch with them after all those months, a moment of weakness deceiving you into believing it was better than to spend it in your empty apartment, with the silence that ate away at your sanity every second. The only evidence of life in it other than yours was the recently cleaned dishes and the note thanking you for the meal, the promise of cuddles and movies tonight making you gain just a little more patience, barely.

You refrain from answering, your response is to lower your head, drag the dining chair before plopping on it, a dreary sigh escaping your lips as you scoot your chair closer to the table. Your mother never changes, it’s been a while since you were able to move out of her home, and while your father tries to tell you that these brunches are a way to reconnect with them, you yourself know that it’s merely a chance for your mother to nitpick at everything you ever did or are doing since you left.

“How have you been y/n.” your father smiles at you, both of you ignoring the sound of your mother kissing her teeth when her attempted jab at you is ignored. “Uh, I uh I’ve been good, I just wrapped up with my exams and so far things have been-” 

“How is your hero boyfriend?” 

For a second, you contemplate whether to ignore her question and keep conversing with your dad, dreading the questions that are to be pushed your way regarding Katsuki, of which will be used as bragging material for when she meets whatever group of friends she associates herself with, but you know better than to ignore her with the way she gets when she isn’t fed with attention. 

“He’s uh, good.”

“Why isn’t he here today? What, too good to meet us?” your mother nags, and for the love of God, would that fucking clicking ever stop?

“No, he’s doing his job of, you know, being a hero.”

“Is he now? Well, what about you, hm?” She cocks her head as her nails tap the table. ”Did you think your father and I wouldn’t figure out you got fired?”

“How-” the gritting of your teeth is deafening at this point, your jaw clenching so tightly as you and your mother stare each other down. “Your dad pulled some strings, it isn’t that hard. So tell me, you like leeching off of him after you were done with us?”

“This isn’t, I just- I was- I, I had a lot of university work piling up a-and I couldn’t make time for my shifts and I just, it was just so hard for me to get out of bed these days and I.” why are you doing this? Why are you explaining yourself to people that don’t deserve it? Why are you feeding off of their acceptance, knowing damn well you never got it, and that thing was never gonna change. 

“Oh, I don’t wanna hear about you not getting out of bed, you’re here now aren’t you? This is all in your head y/n. You need to stop talking nonsense, what’re people gonna say about you, about me, when they hear you?” 

It feels just like yesterday, your figure standing and facing your full length mirror, your reflection eyeing you with identical vacant eyes. Fingers running through your bed head, a wince escaping you at the movement. Bringing your hand up and catching a glimpse of a slight swollen purple bruise along your wrist and the dried blood on your knuckles, the skin stretching upon rotating your wrist and causing notable pain.

Alas, that pain paled in comparison to when your mom barged into your room, blaming you for the way you were acting and belittling your reasoning. Beckoning your father over to replace your broken vanity and for your house maid to disinfect the space, the place sparkling clean and void of any evidence of what had transpired the day prior. 

The shattered glass was picked up and thrown out, the splatters of blood were wiped clean, and whenever you brought up, what your mom refers to as ‘the temper tantrum’, you’re ignored by both your parents as they continued about their day, fearing the shame it would bring upon their name if the event was to catch others’ attention. 

“Good morning! I’ll be your server for the day. What can I get you?” the foreign voice sounds more comforting than your own mother’s, and you almost laugh at the irony of it, but you only return her smile and take a look at the menu. Lighting up a smidge at the name of one of the dishes, while your parents place their order.

“Can I please get the soufflé pancake?” you look up to catch the horrified look on your mother’s face, followed by her clicking her tongue and shaking her head as if your choice of food was shameful. 

“Certainly-”

“Uh, no she won’t be having that. Get her the Honzen Ryori,” your mother eyed your figure -whatever was visible to her from across the table- before turning to face the server again “maybe cut down on the rice, God knows she doesn’t need the extra calories.” and waves her off, disregarding your protests and tapping her nail against the table top, her annoying method in demanding your silence, which you subconsciously react to, snapping your mouth shut when the sound reaches your ears.

“What was that for? You know I like having sweet breakfasts,” was fuming even close to what you are feeling? Probably not. “Yes I can clearly see that, you’ve let yourself go as well. Do you think that boyfriend of yours will stick around when you start putting on even more weight?”

At a loss for words, you turn to your father, who has been quiet this whole time, for any sense of support when it comes to his wife. But the way he presses his lips together tells you all you need to know, how just because he isn’t bad as her, doesn’t make him that great of a parent. That standing by while you have been bullied your entire childhood and well into your adulthood is just as bad as being the cause of it. 

“God forbid he realizes how much of a train wreck you really are and throws you on the side of the street, because you know damn well we won’t be here to pick you up.”

It began as a whispering in the air. The day had been beautiful -well, as beautiful as it can be with the kind of day you’re having- and the sky was like a dome of plasma-blue. The clouds had looked like airy anvils drifting under the gleaming disc of sun. People quickened their pace as the clouds began to gather in the sky. The postcard-perfect sky started changing. The beautiful cocktail-blue shade merged in with the flaming orange and mesmerizing purple as the sun sunk deep into the horizon, before beginning to darken into gravel-grey. Large pillows of cloud start to form, blocking out the old-gold color of the sun.

The first splatter of rain hits you when you’re halfway across the street, dismissing the need to take shelter under the roof of the buildings like some passersby are doing, hoping to see out the shower. Droplets of moisture begin to drip onto your head, sprinkling onto you like a gardener’s hose. It was well after your meal with your parents, and you had spent the last few hours walking aimlessly through the streets, making sure to avoid those covered by your boyfriend during his patrol. Hoping, praying, that something will clear your head, will help your poor jumbled mess of a mind forget about this entire nightmare of a day.

Should’ve listened to him 

The rainfall intensifies, the drops drumming against the hood of the cars that you pass by, there is so much rain that the sound blurs into one long, whirring noise, reminding you of the blades of the fan that you stuck your finger in, that one time when you were left alone in your house when you were only five years of age. Eventually, they fade into a musical chime as you push your drenched hair away from your face and feel the vibration from your phone as it rings the ninth, maybe tenth time. 

He told me so. 

Tall apartment complex building; you couldn’t see its end from where you stand. You shiver as you approach it, the doorman - bless his heart - running and placing his umbrella to futilely shield you from the rain, and you just laugh and tell him that you’re already drenched and just waiting to go back home.

God forbid he realizes how much of train wreck I am

Not wanting to dampen the people at the elevator and make them uncomfortable, you take the stairs up to your shared apartment, you usually don't mind the exercise but with how heavy you feel after the rain and day spent up on your sore feet, all you think about is locking yourself in your room and discover what kind of new façade could you try and fool Katsuki with when he reaches home.

Just how I trick him into thinking I’m not with him to leech off of him

Eventually and with a struggle, you make it to the door, dreading the sight you might come to face, almost hoping for a black hole to emerge and swallow you whole.

What would people say about me? Do people think I’m crazy?

With a forced exhale out of your lungs, you fetch the key from your bag to unlock the door, but it’s wrenched open before you have a chance to insert your key.

“Where the hell have you been?” 

Your eyes meet the beautiful rubies of Katsuki, and despite his anger that always overcompensates his worry, you smile and throw yourself on him. The shivering ceasing when he wraps his warm arms around you and that loving caramel scent engulfs you, in spite of how your hair is drenching his shirt and how you sniff against his neck.

“You need a shower, you’re shivering.”

“Take one with me?” you look up at him through your lashes, and he blinks at your uncharacterized boldness but agrees nonetheless, helping you out of your clothes and turning on the hot water before stepping in with you.

It is a struggle to help you clean up when all you do is grab at him, whether they’re your hands on his shoulders to lower him to kiss you, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your breasts against him, or palming his hardening cock as the poor man tries to shampoo your hair.

“Would ya knock it off? I’m tryna help you here shitty woman” you frown and squint your eyes when the shampoo gets close to them. “I wanna have sex.” 

“Yea I can fuckin tell, just lemme-” you bring his arms down and press his palms to your boobs, letting go of his wrist when he starts squeezing at them. “Do you not want to?” he gulps, his dick twitching at the feeling of your soft mounds in his hands, your nipples covered up by the suds from the shampoo, as your finger traces the underside of his cock. “Yeah, I uh, fuck, I do, just- you need to wash up so you don’t get sick, alright?”

“Do you not think I’m pretty anymore?” you pout childishly, tears threatening to escape your eyes, and they burn as you close them when he washes the product out of your hair, a deep frown on his lips when you open your eyes back again. “The fuck you on about? That rain really fucked with ya?”

“Are you gonna get rid of me when you realize how much of a mess I am?” you whisper, your voice muffled under the sound of the shower above you, and you keep quiet as he helps you scrub your body, but your boyfriend is observant, he isn’t fucking dense.

“What do you want, right now?” he lowers himself to your level when he’s done, his hands stroking your cheeks as he eyes the way the water droplets cling to your lashes, but still not missing the red rimming around your eyes.

“I just wanna for- I uh, I wanna have sex.” you mumble, a plea hidden underneath your words, a plea to help you forget, to help you bury this day behind you and pretend it never happened.

What you don’t expect is the way that Katsuki pulls your naked wet body out of the bathroom and drops you on the bed, feeling your bodies dampening the bed as he hovers over you, no words are spoken between you as he kisses and nips at your skin. Marking it up and down as he all but worships your body, strands of his hair tangle between your fingers when you run your hands through it, arching your back at the feeling of his tongue tasting your slick.

He doesn’t let up until you cry out, and not in pleasure, your sobs far beyond those he loves to hear when he’s denying you an orgasm. No, they’re sobs that wreck your whole body, kicking away at his shoulders as you curl in on yourself and wail into the sheets. Sitting on his haunches on the floor, Katsuki’s eye soften at your figure, the way your shoulders are shaking and how -yet again- you’re trying to muffle your cries with the sheets this time, pressing your face against the mattress in an attempt to lower your noise, as your mother would call it.

“Hey, look at me” you feel his lips grazing your ear as he kisses it, pressing his lips against your temple, fingers unwrapping your fist against the sheet and digging into your hands and pressing kisses against the nail marks in the palm of your hands. “There she is, there’s my girl.” you hear when you lift your head from the bed, sight blurry from your shed tears but still easy to distinguish Katsuki even between billions of people.

You sniff when he kisses at your lids, groan when he chuckles and calls you ‘snot the naught’ when you wipe your nose with the back of your hand, beaming when he hears you let out one weak chuckle at the way he teases you. Still pressing his lips against any surface of skin he can reach.

“You don’t have to talk about it you know, to me at least” he mumbles to you when you’re both dressed in your sleepwear and are cuddling on the dry side of the bed, opting to change the sheet the next day. “Maybe, maybe we can get someone who can help you, you know.” you press your face deeper between his neck and shoulder, shuddering when his warm palms rub your back from under your shirt. 

“I can make some calls, get in contact with someone.” you lift your head. “But I can’t afford-” he tuts and frowns at you “None of that.” 

“Remember what I said when we agreed to move in?” you do, you just love the sound of his voice when he says it, feels like he’s making all these promises all over again. “Tell me.”

“Told ya I’d be whoever you want me to be, whoever you need me to be. I’ll be yer mom, even better than that bitch, I’ll support and love you unconditionally.” you sniff and tighten your hold against him as he presses his lips against your cheek. 

“I’d be better than yer pussy dad, you can rely on me any time and I’ll live up to all your expectations. And callin me daddy is always a plus” he tangles his legs with your own when you wiggle away from him, laughing and giving you no chance of escape, not that you are even thinking of it. 

“I’d even be yer genius fuckin nanny that taught you to tell yer mom to go fuck herself when you were four,” your suppressed giggles lights him up and he can’t help but chuckle as well. “I’ll be anything and everything you’ll ever need, baby. I’ll be your goddamn hero.”

The sun comes out again, casting slanted beams of light across the buildings. Steam rises slowly from the greenery. It rises up eerily and drifts mist-like towards the molten-gold sun, right before it escapes into the abyss. The image is so vivid that it stays with you for as long as you remember. Because on this exact day, the shrieking that follows you everywhere you go, haunting you and mocking you, suddenly is nowhere to be found. And all you can hear is the comforting sound of Katsuki as he hums you a lullaby to sleep.

aaaah I hope you like it!

[katimorton]

Taking some time to take a Patreon conversation over to YouTube. It's easy for us to get stuck in friendships because we may have insecurities or fears that lead us to people pleasing, or we have fear of abandonment. Many things may get us stuck in relationships that may no longer serve us. Like most things in life, friendships can have an expiration date. We may have gotten the nutrients out of our friendship that we need, and it may no longer serve us. But we may get stuck in friendships because we're afraid of what may happen, or how we may appear, if we let them go. This video is all about ending friendships, why friendships end, how to get over an ex friend, how to end a friendship and so much more. Kati Unfiltered is a series that I'm starting to give you an unfiltered lens into my life. My personal stories, my personal challenges, what I'm going through. Although I am a mental health vlogger and mental health podcast host, along with a therapist, I am talking to you as a human. I may have different experiences than you that help me see situations differently, but I am also human. And I wanted to create a series that allows me to be open about my life, my fears, my challenges and also, the good things in my life. So, welcome to my world. 

Link to Mental Health 101 series: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL_loxoCVsWqzOtSBdqCFPxjkhI_REHqN1

[swbumblebee]

What if Qui-Gon Jinn was not particularly special in his post-mortem abilities?

AKA “Old Ben” and his many Force parents.

They had all watched, their collective Force aura swamped in sadness, grief and longing, as Qui-Gon finally introduced himself to Obi-Wan.

They’d never call him ‘Old Ben’. The fact that he was only 40 years old notwithstanding, this was the boy they’d raised, grown up with, idolised. They remembered him toddling about the gardens, fascinated by the brightly coloured flowers; Getting shy around pretty people and developing awkward crushes. They remembered him standing alone at the head of an army, quietly confident and immeasurably capable. They had vivid memories of him carrying them back to the creche, so steady and strong; of his measured wisdom, and the confidence that Obi-Wan Kenobi would always triumph.

They remembered the mullet.

Nobody named “Old Ben” ever had a mullet.

The man they now, as they always had really, looked to for a light when everything else went dark.

They didn’t catch the murmured words. They were Jedi after all, (even if they were now technically one big Jedi rather than a temple full of Jedi) and eavesdropping was rude. Nobody listened to the sulky mutterings of the presence that was Quinlan Vos.

Their boy was nodding, sitting quietly on the floor whilst he finally, finally after weeks of careful and gentle persuasion, of them all keeping a tight rein on the order’s maverick (“Do not, we repeat do not, come out of the water tank. You’ll give him a cardiac arrest or something”) believed in the presence he saw before him.

They watched once more, pleased, as their missing piece allowed himself to be bullied to his feet, and guided over to the pile of blankets he called a bed.

They could feel Qui-Gon’s bitter relief as he perched next to his former student, his longing to pull the blankets up around his boy and smooth back his hair.

But words were all they had.

Still, as Obi-Wan Kenobi had shown the Galaxy; you could do a lot with words.

---

They’d argued (as much as an incorporeal fusion of spirits could argue) at length over who got to go next.

“I knew him longest, he’ll trust me!”

“He needs someone calm, measured. I will go”

“No offence Master Plo but you’ll make him cry. He needs cheering up, I’ll go!”

“Vos so help me Force-“

“I was the Master of the Order, I should do it”

“Master, we’re dead. I’m not sure seniority applies.”

In the end it was narrowed down to two options; Bant Erin, Obi-Wan’s oldest friend. Sweet natured and kind, she would be the perfect choice.

And Mace Windu.

It turns out seniority does still apply beyond the grave.

---

A small part of Obi-Wan’s subconscious was telling him that it was starting to get a bit awkward.

The transparent blue form of Mace Windu was looking down at him, the welcoming smile quickly turning into a grimace.

“…Obi-Wan?”

No. no no no this was not happening. He didn’t have time to go round the bend he had a child to protect!

He wasn’t sure if it was reasonable to measure sanity on the volume of dead loved ones he was hallucinating, but somehow one seemed saner than two.

Though it turns out he’s insane, and so not a good barometer of these things.

He knew his stare was starting to get very unnerving as his hysterical inner-ramblings reached a fever pitch.

“…Obi-Wan, are you alright?” Imaginary Mace Windu asked, concern and a tiny bit of nervousness showing on his face.

“I’m fine, how are you?” Obi-Wan asked, remembering a solid piece of advice from his formative years; Always fall back upon good manners when in unfamiliar territory Padawan mine.

Well, this was about as unfamiliar as it got.

Imaginary Mace looked at him, utterly baffled for a moment.

“Well…I’m dead, I suppose, is how I am” he answered awkwardly.

“Right. Obviously.” Obi-Wan nodded politely. “My condolences”

There was another awkward silence.

Imaginary Mace tilted his head for a moment, listening for something.

“Well…here I am” he said, spreading his arms a little.

“…yes.”

The other Jedi frowned at Obi-Wan’s strained reply and his act of scrubbing his hands down his face as if to wipe away the image in front of him.

“Qui-Gon didn’t…didn’t mention we were coming?” he asked tentatively.

Obi-Wan shook his head, wordlessly.

The frown on Imaginary Mace turned into a complete scowl as the pieces seemed to fall into place.

“JINN” he bellowed, and Obi-Wan felt it echo in the Force like nothing before.

“He can’t hear you, he’s with Yoda”

Another figure popped into existence next to Mace, and Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes once again as Depa Billaba bowed to him.

“Obi-Wan” she greeted with a grin.

“…hi” He took a deep breath, mentally cursing his absent-minded Master.

“Are you alright?” Depa didn’t stop for a reply as she looked down with him and gestured at him, gently instructing him to get up from the floor. “Oh look you’ve scraped your knee there! Master I knew you’d startle him!” she scolded her former Master.

It felt like he was having an out of body experience as Depa ushered him into a chair (the only chair in the hut), Mace looking on anxiously.

“There we go” Depa soothed as she got him settled “I wish we could make you some tea my friend.” She said disappointedly.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat.

“You ah…you can’t?” he asked, something permeating the haze. Of this whole situation, that seemed by far the most unfair thing.

Mace smiled encouragingly, seemingly happier to be on more binary ground.

“I’m afraid not, we are beings of the Force, like your Master.” He explained, before scowling again. “Who, I would kill if he weren’t already dead,” he growled.

“I’m so sorry Obi-Wan” Depa said, dismayed “We all wanted to come and be with you, but we though Qui-Gon might be best to start with, so as not to overwhelm you”

“Sorry about that” Mace said apologetically.

They sat in silence a moment, Depa and Mace watching him process.

For the first time ever, Obi-Wan had exactly zero thoughts in his head.

He was starting to feel the pressure.

“All?” he tried.

Depa and Mace looked at each other.

“You ah…you said ‘all wanted to come’” he clarified.

Depa nodded happily.

“Yes yes, we’re all there Obi-Wan” she smiled at him

“Any Jedi slain by a Sith, or the machinations of the Sith, is there” Mace explained.

Obi-Wan was having the slightest bit of trouble taking deep breaths. Neither of his companions seemed to have noticed.

“Where?” he asked, only mildly aware that his voice was getting just a little pitchy.

“In the Force, we’re all one in the Force” Depa started again, and then paused a little lost for words.

“We’re all together and we kind of…share our presences” Mace picked up, with difficulty “Everyone who was killed by Palpatine’s evil, everyone from us right down to the littlest initiate, we share one consciousness in the Force.”

Obi-Wan was none the wiser.

Mace waved a hand frustratedly.

“Sorry, Plo explains it better”

“Plo?” Obi-Wan loved Master Plo. He loved all of them. And they were gone.

“Hello Obi-Wan”

“Well, if Plo and Depa get to see him I’m bloody well here too!”

“Hi Obi”

“Obes!”

He could only watch, speechless, as the faces of old friends, comrades, mentors and carers crammed into his hut, all looking at him with unadulterated, unfiltered pleasure and love was the last thing he saw before his scrambled brain decided it’d had enough, and he knew nothing but darkness.

---

It turns out, living with the forms of all your dead teachers, carers and friends was actually rather trying, after a while.

“Oh thank goodness you’re not still drinking that awful caff”

“I like caff – Master Plo please don’t try and lift that”

“Relax Obi dear, we’re incorporeal”

“Can still see things though”

“Vos get out of my fresher!”

“What does this do?”

“Never you mind. No don’t – Ugh. Why don’t some nice, well behaved padawans ever come to see me?”

“They’re not allowed, only those who knew you personally can visit. We thought it might get a bit stressful otherwise.”

“…I can’t imagine.”

Aside from having to adapt his busy routine to accommodate half a dozen fidgety and curious…ghosts (?) poking around his small hut at any one time, another unexpected addition to his (attempted) isolation on Tatooine was the nagging. And Force could they nag! The concentrated worry of many, many, beings with nowhere else to direct their extra energies was powerful.

“Obi-Wan you haven’t drank enough today. Go and check the vaporators”

“Padawan aren’t you going to eat?”

“Listen, that plie of cloth can’t be good for your spine”

“Force! Get some sun block Kenobi or you’re going to look like an old shoe in three months”

“No right, I saw a sunhat he can buy at the market”

It was…weird. He’d always been very self-sufficient, not to mention being the centre of everyone’s attention was difficult, to say the least. But as the months went on, he found himself transitioning from awkward acquiescence to see-sawing between mulishness and good-natured obedience. The stubbornness rising usually when the despair did. But those days were few and far between.

And now, when they did occur (for one can only avoid one’s demons for so long) and he felt like he was drowning in the weight of existence, he could rely on his friends for encouragement, care, and the motivation to carry on.

“If you join us before your time I will KILL you Obi-Wan Kenobi. Now kriffing well eat something!”

---

Of course, when their brother, friend, son, comrade, teacher and last hope did at last join them, there was no nagging or disappointment (or violence). The ultimate Jedi was back in the fold and they were once again complete.

[anti-ao3]

she/her / 23 / brazilian / nb bi-gray ace / inclusionist (mspec is valid. fuck r/adqueers though)

VERY passionate about brotherly relationships (such as the elric brothers, and lars and steven from SU). alas, you all know how the internet behaves towards them.

i've been in cartoon fandoms such as regular show, gumball and steven universe since i was a teen. believe me, it was a fucking nightmare. i saw too much unfiltered porn. there's still quite too much porn - and ao3 is one of the most vocal vehicles of porn out there.

i post anti stuff in general, but ao3 criticism is mostly the focus. some posts are unrelated, mainly social justice topics that i believe are still relevant. i also post resources. triggers are always tagged - and please don't be afraid to ask me to tag something if you need!

asks are open! but no anonymous questions. hate will be deleted and blocked. please tell me if you don't want me to post your ask, i will respect your privacy.

if you're an anti like me, who's also tired of ao3, welcome, ily. ❤

my personal experience with ao3

my anti experience in general

a blog to shit on my lolicon-in-denial brother

[ddarker-dreams]

Sweet Talkin’. Yan Dabi x Reader [COMM]

There’s been an abnormal amount of sirens tonight.

It should be unnerving -- and to an extent it is -- but this isn’t what keeps you awake. Not that, or even the dogs barking outside accompanied with an occasional derogatory yell. With a heavy heart, you can say that you’ve gotten used to all of that noise. No, it’s something different that steals you from the welcoming comfort of a deep slumber. 

The thing that truly keeps you up is the anticipation of what is to come. Or more precisely, who. 

The bright glow of your phone strains your tired eyes, but it’s your best shot at finding entertainment. Squinting at the blinding light, exhaustion seeps into your being despite your best efforts to ward it off. No matter how much caffeine you drink later on in the day, it’s not enough to to thwart your natural inclinations to sleep.

For most, nighttime is a relaxing time of day that’s coveted. It brings a time of solitude, to reflect and rest up for the next day. While you wish you could return to the days where you felt like that, it’s long behind you now. Instead, you evade sleep, in fear of what could occur when you’re in the defenseless state. 

An illusion of control is better than none at all.

“You’re gonna get dark circles under those pretty eyes if you keep staying up this late.” 

A deep voice rumbles from the entrance to your shared room, one that you instantly recognize. Even in your groggy state, your emotions heighten in his presence. Turning off your phone and placing it down, you stretch your arms out, a yawn leaving your lips in the process.  

So he’s back. 

“Yeah, yeah…” you grumble back, caring little for the teasing comment. After feeling around your nightstand, a click resonates, light illuminating your room. Once your eyes adjust, you spot your unwelcome visitor, who makes himself at home. Dabi walks towards you, your bed creaking under his added weight as he sits down. Untying his shoes, he throws them carelessly in the corner.

Sensing your staring, he looks over his shoulder and grins at you. “Awe, you miss me or somethin’? How cute.” 

A groan leaves your lips, and you reach to throw a pillow at him. He easily deflects it with a snicker, working on taking his shirt off next. At least now that he’s back you feel more inclined to sleep, knowing that he can’t sneak up on you. Splatters of dark vermilion catch your attention, mouth curling downwards into a frown. 

If there’s anything you’ve learned in your time with Dabi, it’s that you shouldn’t ask where the blood stains come from. Ignorance is bliss, right? It’s still an unnerving sight, especially since you know it isn’t his. 

The relationship you two share is nothing if not unconventional. His occupation -- if you can even call it that -- has him coming and going at unholy times at night. Sleep is difficult to come by, not knowing when he might make an appearance. It’s what leads you to stay up some nights, a preferable experience to tossing and turning with anxious thoughts plaguing you.

As long as you stay in your designated place, Dabi holds true to his promise of doing you no harm. Thinly veiled threats under the pretense of being your “roommate” lead you to the current day, an awkward routine settling in. For all it’s worth, it could be worse. You’re acutely aware of what Dabi is capable of, having seen the ashes of corpses blurred out in the news. 

Why he’s taken a liken to you is beyond you. It still beats dying, only by a sliver. 

“There are some leftovers in the fridge,” you tap your phone, reading the time. Three in the morning. Great, and you have work tomorrow too. “I think I’ll give sleeping a shot now that you’re back.” 

Dabi raises an eyebrow at this, a fresh shirt without blood stains now on. “You always sleep when I get back. It hurts my feelings. What, am I not good enough company?”  

‘If I’m being honest, not really.’

He grins at how you shiver, lazily crawling over to be by your side. His sudden presence fills your nose with unknown scents, ranging from smoke to burnt leather. Underneath is hints of his cologne, all mixing together to disorient you further. Dabi loves riling you up, testing the limits of what you can handle. 

You take a deep breath, hugging your knees to your chest. As long as you don’t let it get to you, it’ll be fine. He always gets bored eventually, leaving you to do as you please. That’s what you’ll aim for.

“It’s not that. I just have stuff to do tomorrow, and I don’t like being exhausted. It’s my long shift.” 

His trademark grin melts away, furrowing eyebrows and a grimace taking its place. Mentioning your life outside of him is a tricky battle, and you can’t help but regret mentioning it. Being in a sleep deprived state is a major disadvantage in your interactions with him.

“This again? I thought I told you to quit. Rent or whatever won’t be an issue, I’ll handle it.” Dabi scoots closer to you, wrapping an arm around your bare shoulder. His skin feels rough against yours, coarse hands rubbing circles into  you. You bite your lip at the sensation, hair on the back of your neck standing. 

“I... I like my job. Sure, it can be irritating at times, but it gives me something to do during the day. I’d go stir crazy without something concrete to focus on.” The words are heartfelt, unfiltered. When he responds in silence you worry you’ve made a mistake, upsetting him with your defiance.

He huffs against your neck, lifting his head and shooting you a displeased look.  His voice is a low murmur, one that reverberates into the core of your very being. “Always making trouble for me..." 

Dabi’s grip around you tightens, and you gulp thickly. With how casual he speaks to you, it can be easy to forget the major power imbalance. Instead of greeting you with insults, or worse, he lightly flicks your forehead.

You blink, baffled.

“Don’t most people hate their jobs? I figured you’d be jumping at the idea of having more free time, or whatever. So you can focus on other things.” 

It’s not a confession you were expecting, your cheeks flushing at the considerate nature of his words. While it’s true quitting your job is an appealing thought, it creates a semblance of balance within your now chaotic life. Helping you stick to a schedule, in the same way school used to. 

Now feeling confident in expressing yourself, your taut muscles relax into his touch. “I’m too tired to think about it properly, if I’m being honest. I don’t know how you can stay up this late all the time without losing it.” 

Deflecting from the previous topic makes you feel better. If Dabi notices your intentions he doesn’t point them out, allowing you to take control of the conversation without complaint. He must prefer it over when you’d just shake and cry in his presence.

“You get used to it, sweetheart,” he drums his fingers against you, smirking. “I’ll make a night owl outta you yet.” 

Any implications in his words go straight over your head.

“As tempting an offer as that is, I think I’ll pass. ” 

He shrugs at your indifference, removing his arms from your frame. The lack of enveloping warmth causes you to shiver, Dabi searching through his bag. You peak over his shoulder out of curiosity, his scarred hands settling on an object which he pulls out. 

It’s a copy of Animal Crossing, in all of its beautiful glory. You wipe your eyes, unsure if what you’re seeing is reality.

“W-what?” you guffaw before your brain has the chance to stop you, jaw agape and head tilted. Dabi places it on your lap, and returns to his previous position of holding you. There’s clear amusement in his eyes at your stunned state, relishing in your every reaction.

“Did I get the wrong thing? This is that game you wanted, isn’t it?” 

It had to have been a week or so ago. You lamented to him about not being able to afford this, not even realizing he was giving it any attention. To think he remembered, and acted on it for your sake... is a touching sensation. Maybe he is capable of selflessness after all.

The cute box art puts a smile on your face, one that Dabi stares at. 

“I have to say, I’m surprised,” you pick it up, looking at the back with wide eyes. “Did the cashier give you a funny look when you picked this out?” 

‘I really need to start thinking before I speak.’

He shakes his head at your blunt comment, not taking any offense. “I didn’t get it that way.”

‘Oh, well... better not ask more than necessary. There’s no blood on it so at least that’s a good sign.’

Wiggling free from his grip, you rotate your legs over the side of the bed, intent on getting your switch. An opportunity like this must be taken advantage of, and you’ve wanted to play this game for some time now. Dabi must’ve read your mind, and pulls you back to him with little effort before you get the chance. 

“If I remember correctly, you said you were tired just a few minutes ago.” 

He plucks the game from your fingers, and places it on the side furthest from you. What a cruel world this is, to have paradise so close and yet so far. You can’t help the pout that forms at his actions.

“The situation changed, I’m wide awake now.” you explain to an unmoved Dabi, launching over his lap to get your coveted game back. He picks it up, lifting it over your head with a chuckle. So that’s how it’s going to be. 

Defeat settling in, you retreat for now. A sigh leaves your lips, arms crossing over your chest. You should’ve known better, Dabi has made it clear to you that he wants your attention. Looks like you’ll have to wait until after work to get a taste of Animal Crossing. 

There’s a glint of mischievous in his azure eyes, one that you’ve seen more often than you wish. Dabi sighs in mock hurt, placing a hand over his heart. “Not even so much as a thank you for my efforts. That’s cold, babe. Real cold.” 

“I’m sorry, you’re right. Thank you, it means a lot.” 

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue. “That’s not what I was looking for. Try again, sweetheart.” 

A flurry of thoughts fly through your mind, all competing with one another to offer a solution. Does he want money for it? He should know that you’re not capable of producing that amount, or you would’ve bought the game for yourself. Dabi gives you a moment to think, before offering the answer to you.

He puts his pointer finger on your lip, maintaining eye contact while doing so. 

“Oh, t-that.”

“So glad to see that you’re finally catching on.” 

It could be the summer heat winning over your AC, the room suddenly feeling warmer than it did a few moments prior. You look down at your blankets, focusing on anything other than the person in front of you. This level of teasing is nothing new with Dabi, he always manages to fluster you. 

He sits, relaxed, waiting for you to make a move. There aren’t any other options that you can think of, so you give into what he wants. Moving closer to his face, you feel his warm breath fanning against your skin. Your hand twitches, pressing against his chest to offer balance.

Squeezing your eyes closed, you tilt your head, soft lips brushing over his own. All of your movements are hesitant, your entire body feeling like it’s on fire. Heart pounding violently against your chest, you move to pull back. Only to discover his hand on the back of your head is stopping you from doing so.

Dabi slants his lips back over your own, nibbling your bottom lip. You freeze, the unexpected affection leaving you incapable of reacting. It’s when you squeak that he finally loosens his grip, opening his eyes to take in your embarrassed countenance. 

All things considered, it wasn’t an unpleasant experience. 

You cover your burning face with your shaking hands, feeling the warmth emanating off of you. He makes it even worse by chuckling, the low rumble filling you with indignation. There never is hope of catching a break with Dabi. 

“You might be the one with a fire quirk after all,” he leans forward, placing a hand against your hot forehead. “Mm... that look you’re giving me is too much. You have to be doing it on purpose at this point.” 

Fed up with his relentless teasing, you smack his hand away and purse your lips. He props his arms behind his head, letting you glare at him to your heart’s content. From his lack of reaction, you get the feeling he isn’t too intimidated by you. 

“Whatever, I’m going to bed,” you huff, returning to your side and pulling up the blankets. He doesn’t make a move to stop you, and you take the opportunity to lay down on your side. Refusing to look at him, you focus on the wall. 

Dabi pokes your cheek, which you ignore. 

He lets out a long sigh at your antics, joining you underneath the covers. You hear shuffling behind you, and can’t help but wonder what it is that he’s up to. Maybe he’s succumbing to his own exhaustion, and will let you sleep in peace? What a perfect world it’d be if that’s the case.

The thought is entertained for three seconds before you’re pulled against his firm chest from behind, toned arms snaking around your torso and staying there. His body is always so warm. It doesn’t help that you’re already embarrassed from before. Dabi grumbles something incoherent, placing his head in the crook of your neck. 

Accepting the situation for what it is, you stop moving. He reaches over you to turn off the light, and darkness surrounds you once more. All you can hear are your own labored breaths, and rapidly pounding heart. It might be impossible to sleep like this. 

You’ll call out of work for tomorrow. 

“... Dabi?” you whisper, voice soft and barely audible. He grunts in response, nuzzling further into your neck. For the past few months, there’s been a thought that haunts you at every turn. One that you can never find an answer to, and have been too frightened to investigate beyond your own musings.

It’d be easy to play this off as sexual attraction alone, yet a voice in the back of your head says otherwise. That what Dabi feels for you goes beyond that, into a sinister territory that you want desperately to avoid. Why is it he’s patient -- borderline kind -- with you, yet cruel to everyone else? None of it makes logical sense, his actions erratic and seemingly without reason.

Maybe you shouldn’t know. Still, you ask, against your better judgement. 

“Why do you like me so much?” 

You feel how he smiles against the skin of your neck, the sensation stirring up unknown emotions within. He squeezes you against him once, letting out a low hum as he considers your words. While waiting for him to speak, you hold in a breath. 

“Dunno. Just do,” Dabi offers a noncommittal response, one that leaves you greatly unsatisfied. It seems he’s not even aware of it himself, the effect you have on him unlike anything he’s ever experienced. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” 

“... Alright, I won’t.” 

“Good. Now get some sleep, before I ask you to kiss me again.” 

[zgvlt]

    I reblogged your work, attaching tags on them regarding how much I enjoyed your latest work (Aimer) but spent some time still itching to say more. So here I am! And I’ve been wondering how to go around my thoughts before coming to the conclusion to speak without restraint. I’ll give you the purest, unfiltered, everything that comes to mind thoughts ever in this message— I’m sorry for how wonky and messy my thought process is in advance, I’ll probably go so off-tangent…

I feel slightly shaky and embarrassed, or just jittery as I’m doing this. My hands feel weak writing this for some reason, but I really have to get this out! I have to tell you everything like everything-everything since I believe you deserve to hear it. I reread the beginning of Aimer twice, but I plan on rereading the entirety of the story once I gather back the energy or maybe not, I think it would be nice to leave my entire experience with the story as it is. The feelings your story left me with is something I deeply treasure and the way it affected me is amazing too.

I struggle quite often  paying full attention to stories, majority of the time my head is high up in the skies. Even as I read, I still can’t help but think of other things that would cause me to immediately think about other things as soon as I finish the work, not take a while to process much the story and take time to just sit and embrace the feeling, taking a deep breath as if it stole all the air in my lungs during the entire story which is what your story did. It had my full attention, I barely thought of something else as I went through each word, the only thing I could think of is how I feel so out of breath. And when the story finally came to an end, I took some time to just stay still, process the feelings your story left me, it was exciting. It was so so exciting to feel this way, being so breathtaken, and feeling so empty

I have my fair share of experiencing emptiness, starvation, and other else. But this? This was different, I rarely felt this way, I could only count the times I felt this way on just one hand because it was such a unique feeling. How your story stole the air from my lungs, how your story made me take frequent stops to make sure I didn’t miss a single word, how your story made my mind so entirely silent, only choosing to read and feel what I’m feeling is so so unique, i think i’ve experienced this only once or twice. And the emptiness that arrived when I was nearing the end didn’t feel so horrible, it was welcomed.

I never liked feeling so numb, majority of my experiences with emptiness were bad. But this made me feel so good, feel so content, it felt like i tasted peace, and I don’t want to let it go just yet. It was the most peaceful thing I have ever experienced and i genuinely love it, this was like that one time how I woke up feeling nothing and just blank, how I laid there realizing that and relishing in that feeling. And yes, after some time, my mind finally began bursting once again, but a part of that feeling still remains, and I don’t mind, it’s welcomed to stay (and i hope it does linger much longer)..

I think I talked to you way too much about feelings and not actually much about your story, so I’ll back a huge chunk to tackle it more! The beginning to end were all so lovely and made me think of a couple things. 

It’s fine to be a little dramatic with descriptions, especially when they definitely capture the character’s mindset you’re writing for.

It’s okay to transition using headers.

It’s okay to be super descriptive!

It’s best to focus more on the character than the reader to help not put too much character which makes it more rlly general and inclusive (?)

Not everything has to be super descriptive either. Sometimes the simplest way is the best way to do certain parts.

There’s so many things to learn, to take note from your way of writing, and I just adore it. I absolutely just do, your story felt extremely descriptive yet how you did it barely screamed wordy because everything flowed so well together and there were many parts you did that wasn’t descriptive, yet just right, and balances everything together— suddenly, I’m reminded of Jamil’s labcoat vignette story, him explaining a certain process, and god!! I think that’s the best way to describe yours? Emulsification?? How you make things blend together in your writing reminds me of that, how you add little of everything in between, though I might be wrong, I think you add actions little by little in between through those large amount of descriptions, feelings, and such, makes everything blend well, the dialogue, and such, they all mix together in perfect harmony that it makes your story so flowy like a symphony and genuinely I think even without headers, your story would’ve transition just as well! (Especially for the artist to muse, the transition there was absolutely chef’s kiss!!!) 

And the last part, however, the one that absolutely won me over and completely killed me is how you wrote Rook’s feelings towards the reader?? I HAD TO SCREENSHOT THAT BECAUSE I WAS ABSOLUTELY STUNNED AND WOULD YOU BELIEVE ME IF I SAID RN I NEARLY TEARED UP RECALLING THE SCENE AND DID A REREAD BECAUSE I HAD TO GO GET THAT PART AGAIN

“He’s known for a while that you’ve long moved past being a fledgling baby bird, and even back then he’d already found you wonderful, but now… Now your passion is searing, a trail of scorching fire left in your wake, and you’re soaring the vast skies like the most radiant phoenix, one he must climb up high to even touch the wings—

No. Rook stands corrected because thinks you’ve done more than soar the vast skies. His little songbird has become the stars themselves. Stars are a whole other entity than any beast he’d ever laid eyes on, an entity close enough to see but much too far to touch. A hunter can capture a bird just fine, but could his arrow of love reach a star?

He isn’t sure, but when you catch his eyes before the curtain comes to fall, he thinks he might give it a try.”

AND HOW YOU HANDLE THE AFTERWARDS OF THAT SCENE WITH THE READER RESPONDING AND SUCH??? It’s all so wonderful, so, so beautiful, it literally makes me want to tear up because it’s so lovely!!!! I absolutely adore how you handled that scene and did you had that envision already by chance? And before I come around to ending this, a comment mentions in your story how well done the insecurity of the reader in the story executed! And looking back I definitely agree, it was so simply well done, and you didn’t use way too many descriptions to describe it which is so nice in my opinion because us, the audience in a way is given a chance to put our insecurities there and imagine what type of insecure thought is running through the reader’s mind. And your header banner whatyacallit? Absolutely delicious, the color isn’t too strong as in too vibrantly strong and nor is it too light, there’s a perfect balance between the two and the color in a way perfectly captures certain aspects of rook too!! And I think this is getting way too long but gosh, one super seriously last thing???

Rook is barely my favorite character nor is Vil, but your stories of them make me have more adoration to give to them, especially Vil. You made me find a newfound appreciation towards Vil more and even if you write stories of characters I may not be interested in… i think I’ll be still willing to read those like how I gave artist to muse and aimer a chance, mainly because of your banner header thingies (which just says how you did them very well). And I can’t wait to read your other works more, and I’m considering to read your sebek x reader work even though Sebek is definitely not one of my favorites and i think your fic could once again help in making me understand him much more better and i might even find some appreciation towards him more too. 

Anyways, signing off! And thank you again for making such amazing content (p.s i think you have good taste, you like persona, a3, and omg even lumine + jamil and leona????? Legit so good ALSO ACE <3 and cant wait to read your upcoming trey fic!). And hopefully this sends through the first time.... and so sorry for the really lengthy!!!

OH THIS IS SO!! i actually read this two nights ago but i didn't know how to respond? im very very grateful thank you so much and i enjoyed getting to read your insights and feelings, it's really touching to know how my work makes people feel and i really appreciate it <3 since this ask is pretty long i'll put the rest of my response under a read more :) uhhh quick tldr im glad you like my fics but there is no one way to write reader inserts either, everyone has their own styles in writing and preferences in reading so please take your learnings with a grain of salt <3

i'm still a little gobsmacked by your descriptions of your feelings regarding aimer, and i really really appreciate it. you definitely have a way with words yourself!

your five insights? things you learned? thingy thingy was really interesting for me to read too. on point two, i believe the headers for transitions are specifically called dividers, it was used a lot even in early fanfic sights, and yeah it's pretty useful in signifying a different time and place in your fic, especially in one-shots

in terms of being descriptive or otherwise, yes but also definitely depends on your writing style! i guess it's the matter of being descriptive at the right times, and just the right amount? my personal taste is being descriptive when it comes to thoughts and inner monologues but not so much in actions.

in terms of point 4, well that's partially the reason why i heavily focus on the character than the reader, despite it being a reader insert. but in general i also just have a hard time settling on a "thought process" for reader because my thought process on how id react to a scenario, why i like character, etc etc is probably different to others, so to avoid writing a reader that thinks like me i try not to write reader at all. that is not to say it's a bad idea to write from the reader perspective at all- i think its very useful in certain instances and scenarios, for instance when you want to write about the reader being on the receiving end of some verbal or physical affection, or when you want the character's thoughts and actions to be hidden from the reader (at least initially). reader focus is also just a really good way to "put yourself in the shoes" of the reader and a good way to be imaginative about it. the primary reason i go with character pov over reader pov is i just never had an instance where i would prefer to use it, but im definitely not against it either. ig what i'm trying to say is it definitely depends on what you're going for. at the end of the day inclusivity in reader fics is primarily with physical descriptions and gender specific descriptions and pronouns as opposed to personality

i think what im trying to say is im glad you like my fics and want to learn from it, but i prefer you not make it a blueprint or anything of the sort :> take what you like from it and make it your own bc there is no one way to write reader fics and no "best" way of doing it. everyone has their preferences in reading and writing and they're all valid. i hope this doesn't come across as me scolding or anything of the sort because that's not it, i just don't want to come across a certain way or to have my words wrongly interpreted.

anyway that's all i can really say :> im very appreciative of the feedback, and hope you have a wonderful day :> and really, don't worry about me not answering the ask right away, i tend to do that since i'm not really checking tumblr constantly

[quaranmine]

I want to throw my hat in the ring of this whole reddit thread thing because I've been keeping my eye on the posts from the past few days. (I don't have reddit, I prefer to stay away from that site.)

I'm so,, baffled over this unpopular opinion thread and how people are using it to criticize the hermits, as if they have any justification to do so. Of course it's okay to give them constructive criticism but the content I've seen isn't even that type of criticism, most of it should be flagged as straight up hate comments.

The ones about Grian being a bully or the ones that claim some hermits dislike the others are so, so unnecessary. These are the ones who need to realize that this is just the other side of the coin of what is essentially a parasocial relationship. They don't know the hermits or what they think, it's just plain odd. It's just seems like they are just shoving their own feelings and opinions into the hermits.

My logic is if a thread is causing more harm then good, then it should be taken down- (scar even agrees to a certain extent guys like c'mon). If people truly believe it would be taken down because hermits "can't handle criticism" then that's on them. It was all unwarranted.

(this can be posted publicly or deleted if you prefer the topic to drop, I don't mind either way, hope you're doing alright!! :] )

I agree so much, especially with you middle paragraph about people not knowing the hermits. That's something I noticed but didn't mention in my post before, but the comment that kicked off the chain of Grian-bashing specifically said that they got the impression that many of the hermits didn't like Grian.

Firstly, i have no idea where they got that since I've only heard people say nice things about working with him. Secondly, whether they realized Grian might read the thread or not, I think it's extremely insidious to try and plant the idea in someone's head that their friends secretly hate them. I know he has anxiety. I also know from personal experience that most people on earth probably "oh my god what if everyone secretly hates me" like once a month a minimum. You should, full stop, just not say those things since they can be very damaging. It was just so so speculative and out of line, in my opinion. They're just making up interpretations that don't exist. The mod's justification is that these comments were providing explanations for their thoughts and brought a new perspective. They also said that the comments were in the realm of "welcoming and friendly."

.....um, yeah, I don't think that saying a hermit is a controlling narcissist who abuses his power over people, a bully, and that some of his friends secretly dislike him is "welcoming and friendly." Or constructive. Or going to help in any way whatsoever. We know that at least Scar disliked the thread and said it wasn't helpful, and I suspect Xisuma is the one who originally wrote the comment about how hurtful it was even if he later conceded to unlocking the thread.

There's a way to deliver criticism in a way that's constructive, and this wasn't it. The mod does also write this comment, though: "We are all guests in the Hermits' home here. This is a subdivision of private enterprise and free speech is not a given. If you want fair discussion, do so in an unmoderated environment where you're not harming the people whose work you claim to enjoy."

and, I agree. If you want to post unfiltered criticism, you should do so in an unmodded environment where the hermits don't have to see it. Xisuma and Joe are the head mods of the subreddit. The way reddit works, someone could literally create their own hermitcraft subreddit and mod it any way they like if they don't enjoy the rules of the current one (see: the creation of r/dreamwastaken2 after some people wanted better discussion of discourse than on the original sub)

[anonniemousefics]

My Dearest Inej - Epilogue I

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen | Chapter Twenty | BONUS CONTENT - Epilogue I |

Originally posted on AO3

Rating: Teen and Up

What follows is a collection of letters, found bundled together in twine, kept among the personal belongings of the feared privateer, Inej Ghafa, captain of The Wraith.

Chapter Summary -- A gratuitously self-indulgent two-part epilogue because it made me happy :) If you’ve enjoyed this fic (or others) and feel like buying me a coffee, you can here. Thanks so much to everyone who’s come along for this ride. This one’s for you. 

BONUS CONTENT - Epilogue I

(in Jesper’s handwriting, accompanied by an empty bottle of kvas)

Welcome home and congratulations, assholes.

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

My dearest Inej,

My darling wife,

Brekker –

It has brought me no small amount of joy over the years to hear this name uttered with unfiltered contempt, and, lucky me, that has been happening a lot as of late. Since you are now a hundred miles out to sea, it’s my hope that, through this letter, we can now share in this delight together. (I assume this is part of what you were after when you stole my heart and took my name, though, for the life of me, I can’t work out what else you got out of the deal. You are one horrendous negotiator, Mrs. Brekker.)

When we first returned, I’d chalked it up to the Dregs being unsure of how to act around me since the poisoning and the coup attempt and the shoot out and the jailbreak. Perhaps I’d finally asked too much of the lot of them. Perhaps some time was needed before normalcy resumed.

But now it’s been a couple weeks. And I’m starting to think this has nothing to do with my near-death experience.

I’m starting to think I’m being ignored, Brekker. I’m starting to think our nuptials in Novyi Zem may have ruffled some feathers.

Jesper, in particular, is being shockingly petty. The man hasn’t so much as glanced at me without disdain in a week. Which I’m not entirely unused to – it’s not the punishment he thinks it is – except yesterday, I was refused entry into his home to walk Ambroos at lunch time. I had to wait around until his meeting at two bells and then pick the lock like some common criminal.

(Don’t say it. My criminality has been called many things, but common is not one of them.)

Wylan has informed me he thinks I ought to extend an olive branch, so to speak, and try to make amends. He said this with a completely straight face. It’s like he just met me yesterday. Make amends? For what? For once, I have done nothing wrong – in fact, I’d argue that I finally did something right. Jesper’s just going to have to face facts – he has chosen the mercher’s life, and now not every adventure is going to include him.

Oh, gods. This did get under my skin after all. Damnit. Jesper can’t know, all right?

When are we running away together again? Can it be soon? Mornings without you in my arms are the kind of unbearable torture I typically only reserve for turncoats. All of this only serves to solidify my intentions to stow myself away on your next voyage. Ketterdam is now frigid and stupid, and even that matters little to me when my heart is with yours across the waves.

Counting the hours until then.

Yours,

Kaz

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

(hastily scrawled and unsigned)

Excuse me.

EXCUSE ME.

Tell me you and Brekker didn’t elope in Novyi Zem. Tell me this isn’t true.

I AM GOING TO MURDER YOU BOTH.

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

My beloved Mrs. Brekker,

Why am I receiving death threats from Nina Zenik? Not that I don’t mind a good death threat now and again – jogs the liver, as Jesper says (or would say, if he was speaking to me). But Zenik’s are colorful and weirdly specific and involve detailed descriptions of what she intends to do to with my entrails, and I don’t care to be upstaged like that.

Yours,

Kaz

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

Dear Nina,

My dearest friend, I enclose this letter with an overabundance of apologies and Ravkan toffees. I did consider there was a chance that an elopement wouldn’t sit well with everyone, but please know that it was never my intention to purposefully exclude anyone from a celebration. In fact, I assure you that a marriage was never even part of the plan when we set sail for Novyi Zem. What occurred during our travels was very private and healing in its own way, and that was all that I was considering at the time. I swear I was not trying to keep anything from you.

Maybe you would like it if I told you the whole story? Would that help?

We didn’t even start to consider it until a month into our stay. We’d spent a perfect afternoon at the seaside, wading in the shallows and trading kisses in the shade. But I knew well enough that happiness like this tends to not stick, and the thought of it all ending so soon started to break my heart – after all, a month had already flown by. And, as we talked about this, and found that we both felt the same way, we began to see what fools we would be if we let all this happiness slip away from us without a fight. That’s never been our way, after all.

And so began a whirlwind couple of weeks of perhaps some of the most unromantic negotiating and scheming you’ve ever seen. You’d have been appalled. We drew up calendars and maps, routed out how we could each split our time between land and sea, worked up how we would delegate to our crews in each instance of absence, and squabbled and bargained and plotted until what we were left with was a deal that neither one of us could walk away from. A deal to each other and our shared happiness. A commitment to fight for it always.

You’ll be shocked to learn that it was Kaz who first mentioned that what we were plotting looked a good deal like a marriage. I was inclined to laugh at first – I mean, can you imagine it? The Bastard of the Barrel, a shackled man. And me, a pirate with a land-loving husband. Sankta Alina, it feels ridiculous to write even now. Oh, but it would have been a terrible lie to claim I didn’t want it, this life we’d crafted. I wanted it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

I waited an unbearably long time to say it so plainly to him – that was not my brightest decision. I think I just deeply feared that he’d end up resenting me if I pushed for this formal commitment, if I told him how desperately I wanted a life with him. Evidently, he was feeling the same way. After Kaz had mentioned it, we both tip-toed around it like idiots for the remainder of our trip, right up until the final week.

I’d spent the day making arrangements with the crew, making all the necessary preparations to leave by the week’s end. Kaz was waiting for me at the door of my quarters on the Wraith while I was sending away the last of the crewfolk with their assignments. I’d turned to gather up my things so we could return to our inn for the night when, out of nowhere, Kaz blurts out: “Marry me, Inej.”

Nina. I thought I was hearing things. I think I just stared at him a moment, probably a beat too long, too flabbergasted to register what was happening. You’d think I’d be used to this by now – he does have such a bad habit of waiting to say how he’s feeling until it explodes out of him. So, he said it again: “Marry me. Marry me before we leave here. I’ve wasted too much of my life wanting you from afar.”

And then I said, in a complete stupor: “Are you actually proposing right here.”

He swallowed hard and looked away – I think it was dawning on him how terribly unromantic he was being. His ears were turning pink, and my mind was just this awful blank space totally devoid of language – it was being so unhelpful.

And then Kaz said: “I’ll beg if I have to,” with that endearing sidelong glance, like he knew exactly the way to my heart. (Of course he does.)

I do love it when men beg.

Now that we were both grinning, he shocked me further by attempting to go down on one knee in front of me, which I found really distressing, given his bad leg, and I wouldn’t let him do it. Which is how we ended up on the floor together, a ridiculous, clumsy mess of promises and kisses and laughter (mostly mine) and tears (all mine), and that’s where I’ll stop, since what happened next isn’t really for polite company.

(Not that I’m accusing you of being polite. I wouldn’t dream of it. I’d just much rather tell you everything in person.)

And from this moment, it was as if we were both overtaken by a sort of giddy enchantment. The decision was made – the most logical decision I feel we’ve ever made, and there seemed to be no reason to wait. Or rather, we both felt we’d waited long enough. We made arrangements with another captain at the port to marry us. Kaz bought me a bouquet of wild geraniums from a flower cart on our way. It was exactly everything I needed, and the most perfect end to our journey I could have imagined.

At present, I am at sea for the next three weeks before returning to Ketterdam, where Kaz will be joining me on a voyage to Ravka to visit my parents. We would very much like to see you when we arrive, if you’re not still angry. Please be happy for us.

Love,

Inej

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

My lovely and dearest, much-too-easily-pleased friend,

Of course I am happy for you. I am sad for me. It’s all very selfish, I recognize. I wanted an enormous Suli wedding for you. I wanted days of celebrations and feasts. I wanted to shower you in all the wild geraniums you could imagine and attend to the train of the gorgeous, colorful gown I’ve dreamed up for you. I wanted to watch Jesper get uproariously drunk and then try to make a speech. I wanted the opportunity to deeply embarrass Brekker publically. And none of these things shall happen for me, and for that I am sad.

But of course all of this pales in comparison to knowing that you’ve found a good partner for life in Kaz and that you will obviously be very happy for the rest of your days. I just would like to have seen him spoil you with the grand wedding I believe you deserve, but if you’re pleased, then I shall be, too.

Can I at least throw a party for you both when you come to Ravka? I would be happy to include your parents.

Love,

Nina

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

Inej, my darling, love of my life,

What in the fresh hell is this?

(enclosed is a piece of expensive-looking parchment, neatly calligraphed with the following)

The honor of your presence is requested

At the nuptial celebrations for

Inej Ghafa

&

Kaz Brekker

(a note in Kaz’s handwriting: “Celebrations”?! Plural?!)

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

Zenik -

There is no force in heaven or hell that could compel me to attend nuptial celebrations, even – and perhaps especially -- ones allegedly thrown in my honor. There is a reason Inej and I were married in secret. I do not trust the conspicuousness of these large soirees – we are wanted in four different countries, for gods’ sake. Possibly five.

I suggest you cease and desist whatever it is you’re scheming immediately – or I’ll have to see it done myself.

--Brekker

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

Dear Mr. Brekker,

I wish to write you today to welcome you into our family. My daughter has delivered the news to me that the two of you have exchanged vows to each other before the Saints, and while my wife was at first distressed to learn that what is meant to be the most sacred of ceremonies had taken place for our daughter aboard a ship, docked in a far off country, we have each since made our peace with it. I wish for you to know that we do not harbor any grudges over being uninvolved in the giving away of our daughter’s hand, and that, henceforth, you are as a son to me. We are grateful that our beloved Inej found you. I trust that you will love her well for the remainder of your days.

We can hardly wait to celebrate your union properly when you come to Ravka next. Our caravan is yours.

May the Saints bless you both with long, happy lives together.

M. Ghafa

(an addition in Kaz’s handwriting, the ink dark and thick from the numerous times it’s been traced over)

FUCK

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

Zenik –

I know you are behind this.

- Brekker

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

Brekker,

I have done nothing you wouldn’t have done yourself. Do we have a deal?

- Zenik

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

Zenik –

Clearly my hands are tied.

You had better be procuring a security detail fit for kings.

- Brekker

P.S. – Fine, I’ll admit it – well played.

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

To be continued…

Tagging: @psyche-the-ya-protagonist, @drunk-hyena, @emmayame, @totchipanda, @happy-hudson, @whosanxiety, @ireallyshouldsleeprn, @raging-bisexual-alert, @gedankenvoll, @feelinglikecleopatra, @leavemeuntold, @bookish-mind, @sbooksworld​, @teacup-tyrant​, @annejulianneh111​

[sixthwater]

Synastry and: the Family II 📹

I'm back with the platonic synastry series! This part will focus on my relationship with my father. So let's just get into it I already introduced this

Note: This is using and based off of personal experience, I will be using specific people and referencing them throughout the post

Me & my Dad's placements

☉: Cancer / Scorpio ☽: Taurus / Gemini ☿: Cancer / Sagittarius ♀: Cancer / Scorpio ♂: Virgo / Virgo

*If you’re wondering: yes, arguing or debating with my dad is fucking annoying

📸 Overlays

Me: Sun & Venus in 2nd / Dad: Sun & Venus in 9th

This is pretty straight-forward. As I mentioned in my previous post, this might cause the house person to be protective of the planet person or provide for them. Besides like, being my father, he has went to extreme lengths to ensure that me & my siblings are okay and taken care of. I can think of multiple examples, but besides literal money, he has told me multiple times that if I need someone to rely on or somewhere to go that he's there (seems to be a theme lmao). Even after I moved and he's made plans to move, he still tells me this. I also was able to rely on him for Months to help with rent a little during college and that is an Absolute blessing. I always go to him for financial advice or assistance and I admire his life story and where he is now, which can tie us into the 9th overlay. I think the closest to an actual conversation we had is this clip from fresh prince. I'm not joking when I use these characters as examples (except I'm definitely ashley oops). We have a lot of conversations that tend to delve into deeper topics and "what-ifs" and "what would you do" s. I also have a lot of fun with him and we both are open to trying new things and exploring the unknown (hole in the wall places or just taking different routes home and then laughing when it goes awry).

Me: Moon in 12th / Dad: Moon in 4th

This right here is why I back up astrology (other than real life events). My parents got a divorce right around or before I was born, so my dad was never a stable thing in my life until he could be. Despite that, I felt more comfortable and at home around him than with my mom. I always was confused by this until I got into astrology and pulled up his chart and then ran our synastry and here we are. I always felt like I was able to be more unfiltered and at ease whenever we hung out and immediately became uncomfortable whenever I got home. I never liked leaving my room and my family claimed I was a shut-in but when I moved in with him I got a little bit better at coming out of it (work in progress haha). The 4th overlay will truly create a welcoming feeling that you cannot explain- well you can it's like a "perfect" home, you let your guard down. It's not to say there won't be problems but you know it won't cause serious damage to your relationship. For the 12th, I mean he's a scorpio with scorpio degrees and I'm used to that energy so I'm not bothered by it LOL. I won't say it feels like someone is hiding a secret, but it's more like "ok I know you're holding back from me but I figure it's for a reason so I'll just be sitting here whenever you're ready" like that? Of course refer to my note up there, because signs and energies can change that, but theres an understanding with us and matching chart placements so it might be helping the 12th overlay, but I definitely can tell when he's holding back.

*Extra Note

Me: Chiron in 4th / Dad: Chiron in 1st

My chiron is originally in my 7th house. My dad has helped me through so many issues regarding my self-esteem and my identity regarding my relations to others. Along with his scorpio placements, he reminded me many times that I should stand on my own two feet and not worry about what other people because "fuck them", in his own words LMAO. Whereas I tend to remind him of his own childhood wounds with mine. I don't actively bring anything up or make it a topic unless I need to discuss something else, but he's usually the one who makes it a topic and discusses it. I'm also pretty sure I'm one of the rare few who knows this about him, but he's slowly becoming more comfortable with talking about it. He sort of sees a mirror in me when it comes to his own trauma basically, so he guides me, helps me, and I also help him I guess? somehow. Wish I could explain but he'd have to tell me first haha.

*It's important to note that both me and my father have a sixth house stellium, heavy water influence, and matching air fluence. This makes a lot of the overlay's impact stronger and the aspects flower easier. I also won't be dealing with the mercury overlay as its just the 2nd & 10th and I'll be repeating myself

🎥Aspects

There isn't much to talk about here. We have a ton of saturn aspects which is ironic, but there's just one that I want to bring to light:

My Moon Opposing His Neptune

I absolutely adore my father. I am very defensive of him. There are many times where I question myself and if I'm seeing things clearly but it's okay because another astrologer said he's one of the best fathers they've ever seen and I get my stubbornness from him xoxoxo and I can attribute both of those points to this aspect right here. Bringing back that piece from the moon overlay, it causes the moon to wonder if the neptune person is hiding anything from them because there's a mist over areas of their life (relating to the overlay usually). If we look at this from an astrology point of view we are taking in the fact that I am a critical virgo mars, 6th stellium, my moon sits in the 3rd house, and its being affected in regards to this person that it's now paranoid. I want to make sure that I'm thinking clearly and this person affecting me is being truthful with what they're telling me or displaying. This combination can also cause me to overthink it though, which I am aware of and I toss it after a few minutes. **In general this aspect can play out as the neptune person shying away from something small like confrontation if they know the moon person will be sensitive to a certain comment or something serious like a lie. Or the moon projecting their emotions onto the neptune person. Once again it depends on the placements and their own natal aspects.

Annndd that's it for me and my dad!! I share the most similarities with him out of everyone, and my step-dad is right after that considering no time so they'll be a lot easier to write on haha. If you felt pain looking at his inner planets just wait until you see my mother's lmao. If you read through this entire thing thank you so much for your time!!!

[entertainment]

Entertainment Spotlight: Iman Benson , #blackAF

You might recognize Atlanta native Iman Benson from her recurring roles on Suits, Alexa & Katie, and Station 19. Or maybe you know her as Tia in Uncle Buck. This spring, she will be joining the cast of Kenya Barris’ #blackAF as a member of the family. The Netflix original series stars Barris as a fictionalized version of himself, Rashida Jones as his wife Joya, and their six children. We spoke with Iman about #blackAF, acting, and more. Check it out:

How did you get started in acting? 

For as long as I can remember I've had an interest in acting and performing. So, I started doing theater in Atlanta, GA when I was 9 until I was 14. During those years my love and appreciation for the arts thrived. My acting career started with various commercials and VO work, until I was about 15 and booked my first series. 

What drew you to the role of Drea in #blackAF? 

When I received the sides for the role, I undoubtedly knew I wanted to play her. She had this strong sense of morality and integrity about her that really resonated with me. I not only understood who she was but I was all too familiar with the unbelievably honest, unconventional, and unfiltered father daughter dynamic between her and Kenya. 

Was there much room for improvisation? Did any improvised moments make the final cut? 

From the beginning, Kenya made it known that we weren’t married to the words on the pages and collaboration was welcomed. There was so much room for spontaneity and to play creatively, which was one of my favorite parts about filming this project. Improvisation was embraced and oftentimes encouraged. I think it comes across visibly on screen with the effortless flow and natural comedic timing of #blackAF. 

What’s your favorite thing that you’ve seen on the internet this year? 

This image is probably my favorite thing I’ve seen on the internet this year. It’s how I feel whenever I ask someone anything. I just didn’t know until this. 

Tell us something you like and something you dislike about the character you play in #blackAF. 

I love Drea’s passion for her craft and how outspoken and driven she is. She’s slightly awkward but still self-assured. She has an immense amount of love for her family, but with that comes high expectations for them to put forth their best in everything they do. High expectations tend to lead to disappointment especially when you throw a highly flawed, dysfunctional family in the mix. 

When you hear Black Excellence, what or who comes to mind? 

Rihanna is someone that comes to mind when I think of black excellence. She is the epitome of what it means to be an innovative, talented entertainer and entrepreneur. Fenty Beauty has single handedly broken down the walls of exclusivity in the beauty industry, and set the standard for makeup brands to follow. It’s inspiring to witness Rihanna wear so many hats (i.e. her high fashion line, humanitarianism, and philanthropy) and dominating so many arenas outside of music. She truly embodies what it is to be black excellence. 

What is something you hope viewers will take away from the show? 

I hope viewers take away from these honest, authentic conversations on the show and translate that into everyday dialogue. Overall, I hope for a better understanding of the modern-day black experience as we continue to push these conversations forward. 

Do you have any advice for young women of color wanting to become actresses? 

If I would say one thing it would be, claim your power. It’s so easy in this industry to get discouraged or to feel inadequate. There is nothing more riveting than a young black woman who understands her strength and isn't afraid to embody it. It's important to remember that no one is you and that is your power. Own who you are and don’t let anything dim your light ;) 

If you could switch worlds with any of the characters you’ve played so far, who would it be, and why? 

I think I would switch worlds with Drea from #blackAF. She has a big family which I’m no stranger to, but it would be interesting to experience life with 5 other siblings as opposed to my 2. And, I mean, she’s a filmmaker going to NYU film school. That's a dream. I’ve spent my career being in front of the camera, and being behind it is always something that has intrigued me and a venture that I've wanted to embark on for sometime now.

Thanks for taking the time, Iman! #blackAF is now streaming on Netflix

[mcfreakin-bxtch]

💦 and 13 for Din and gn reader?

Yeeeeeeeee this is my first gender neutral smut fic so if I make any mistakes tell me!!! I’ve been trying to get better at writing gn!Reader so I’m happy this request was sent in. Also I’m not gonna use the tags for this since I’ve been spamming them all this week 

Prompts:💦 + 13 Oral

Warnings: Light Smut, Oral, Language, Little Overstimulation, Wrote this up on my phone in an hour

Worship

***

You know the drill. 

Keep your eyes closed until the makeshift blindfold is wrapped tightly but comfortably around your head and the rest... well, you know. Easy enough. 

How many times have you done this? More than dozens of times and it’s still making your heart race against your chest, body trembling with anticipation; waiting for his next move, only relying on the sounds of the beskar scraping softly against the ground as he kneels down in between your open legs—touch, when bare hands run up the slopes of your body, gripping tender flesh when you whine, arching into his touch, begging for more, always more. Taste, when those skillful fingers press against the seam of your lips, tracing the outline of them with a curious gentleness and you flick your tongue out for a quick little lick; it’s fun to tease him. 

Din groans and the breath that escapes with it brushes between your legs, sending a delightful shiver through you. It doesn’t go unnoticed by the sound of his chuckle; unfiltered, the only time you get to experience the luxury of hearing it, and that’s okay with you—these moments are yours, and no one can take that away from either one of you. 

“Tell me what you want,” he orders, just above a whisper. “Let me hear you say it.”

This is important to him. To be able to hear your voice, whether it’s screaming his name until your throat becomes scratched, or whimpering it breathlessly in his ear as he’s thrusting deep inside you or when you’re telling a story in the confines of the cramped bunk he calls his ‘sleeping quarters’. It’s everything to hear any of it without the filter of the helmet he’d sworn to never remove in the presence of another—there’s always a loophole, one that he has no problems taking with you. 

You feel him shift and suddenly his lips are slanted onto yours; immediately your mouth opens and welcomes the tangle of spit and tongue, and he explores your taste like it’s the most exquisite. You wrap your arms around his shoulders to bring him closer, humming when he complies.

He’s the first to break from the kiss, laughing when you blindly chase after his pouted lips. “Tell me,” he says again, sharing your breath. 

“Your mouth,” you manage to gasp. “I want your mouth on me, please.” 

“That’s it,” you hear the grin in his voice. A peck, too quick to your liking but his hands grip under you, slanting your hips against his and grinds against you. You whimper and clutch a handful of his curls to bring him down for another kiss. This time you keep him here, moving up as he moves down, creating a delectable friction that makes the nerves in your body sing with euphoria. 

Again, he breaks the kiss and moves down before you can protest. “I’m going to give you want you want, cyar'ika.”

You try to control your breathing when his hands slide slowly down and his mouth hovers over where you ache for him the most. Your hips fidget under restraint, waiting for him to make the first move but kriff it’s so difficult when he’s right there—

“Oh!”

The first touch and you’re a goner. Followed by the searing cavern of his mouth? Blazing. 

The Mandalorian knows where exactly to touch you, how much pressure to use based off the increasing octaves of your moans and whimpers, when to suck and lick and use his hands... he’s gracious if not anything else; he worships you—your mind, your body, your pleasure. 

“Din,” you bow your back, arching into him. 

Din hums on your sex, the vibrations spearing right through you. You cry out and spread your legs farther apart with the need of the heat radiating off him. 

You’re close, so close already, your muscles tightening under his ministration—it’s been too long since you and Din have had a moment like this to yourselves and it’s tearing you apart in the best ways. “Fuck I’m close.”

He pulls away to say, “I know. Don’t hold back on me.”

A shuddering gasp racks through you as he goes back down with an eagerness of a man starved, working you closer and closer to the edge of your release. 

“Shit,” you whine at one particular notion, reaching down to grip a handful of his hair. 

A few harsh tugs results in a growl and you quiver, throwing your head back with a groan. “Yes, yes right there! Oh Din please don’t stop, fuck.”

“Are you gonna cum for me?” He taunts you, but there’s a lightness to it because he’s want you to cum just as much as you do and probably more. 

“Yes,” you sigh, legs shaking around him. “Y-yeah I’m gonna—” it’s so hard to push the words out with what little breath that hasn’t been knocked out of your lungs but then he does that thing with his tongue, Maker you’re—”I’m cumming Din, fuckfuckfumh—”

Your body spams as he carries you through your orgasm, swallowing everything you offer to him with deep throaty moans of his own; the action causes you to whine, squirming under him. Fuck he’s still on you. 

“Din,” you push his head back with a subtle tap. “Too much.”

He finally does to your relief. Through the white noise the only thing you register is the caresses soothing you down from your high. Then, when your head tilts down in a droopy leisure, a kiss; slow and deep, with the taste of your orgasm fresh on his tongue. 

“That—” you chuckle, out of breath; he rests his lips against your cheek. “—was very much needed.”

 The Mandalorian grins. “And there’s plenty more coming.”

[chamomileteainabuttercup]

Dincobb Week Day 3 - New Experiences (SFW)

Welcome to my Dincobb Week fanfic posts! I've written stories and scenes of varying lengths and tones. For clarity I should say that most of these exist as miniature AUs of their own and have no continuity with each other or with anything else I've written about these characters, so in different pieces they may be described having different physical features, personal possessions, preferences, et cetera. (There are three exceptions which I'll note as such when they come out.) Thanks to @djarining, who helped me a lot with brainstorming and discussing my ideas!

For today I have two pieces, an SFW and an NSFW - the NSFW is scheduled to post an hour after this one.

New Experiences

Cobb keeps on saying he’s been cold before, it gets bitter cold out in the desert at night, and Din has kept on telling him that yes, that’s cold, but it’s not ice and snow cold, and if he’s going to take him on a trip he needs Cobb to trust him about the appropriate clothing.

He does need thermals, he does need thick wool socks, he does need a heavy parka, wool cap and mittens.

“What about you?” Cobb asks. “You may be wearing thermals under your suit, but I don’t see a parka.”

“I’m used to making do without one,” says Din, “but I have higher standards for you.”

“Have ‘em for yourself too, then.”

“All right then. I will.”

“Just see that you do.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” Din says, smiling inside his helmet.

“I’m the boss of everyone, they just don’t know it yet,” says Cobb with a cocky grin.

Boss or not, he’s got Din to wear a parka over his beskar, which he doesn’t altogether like to do. The shiny breastplate is for show as well as for function. A symbolic declaration of identity and values. Well, everyone can still see the helmet, and he compromised on cutting off the parka sleeves just above the elbow so his vambraces are free and functional. This is meant to be a pleasure trip, just to show Cobb a different world as a treat, but he’s still not about to go anywhere without ready access to his grappling hook, flamethrower and whistling birds. Safety first.

He lands the small ship he’s borrowed from Boba on a small, flat-topped hill overlooking a frozen lake, its edges frosted white and its heart a turquoise blue. In fact, if you’re generous with your aesthetics, the lake is sort of heart-shaped. He wonders if Cobb will notice and appreciate that. They lower the landing ramp and step outside into a brilliantly sunny day. The air out here is so cold and crisp it stings your face. Cobb actually gasps. Din gives him a few moments to walk to the bottom of the ramp, then slowly, carefully, extend one foot and put it down and feel the crunch and squish of the snow under his boot.

“What do you think?” he asks.

“It’s weird!” says Cobb enthusiastically. He sees his own breath condensing on the air and huffs out another cloud of warm mist. Then, “Ow.” He puts his mittened hand to his ear.

“You forgot to take out your earring?” Din asks.

“I was excited to see the snow,” Cobb says sheepishly. “And I love it. You gave it to me.” It’s the beskar dart tip from a whistling bird and Cobb is almost comically proud of how it looks glinting in his earlobe.

“Well, it’s gonna get real cold and I don’t want you to get frostbite. Hold still,” Din says. He pulls off his gloves, gives them to Cobb to hold and carefully removes the already chilly earring. He pulls up one of the hook-and-loop flaps of Cobb’s parka pockets, tucks the earring firmly down inside, presses it closed, then pulls Cobb’s wool cap down to cover his ears properly. “There.”

“This hat is crushing my hair,” Cobb grumps.

“A Mandalorian helmet couldn’t unpretty your hair, but you think a toque will?” Din asks, pulling his gloves back on.

“Aw, Mando, you think I’m pretty?” Cobb beams at him, more radiant than the sunshine on the snow crust.

“C’mon,” Din says, embarrassed. He does think Cobb is pretty but he has too little experience of romance to be able to say it smoothly. He grabs Cobb’s hand and pulls him along, heading down the slope towards the lake. Cobb slips and flounders and laughs. He starts to lurch forward, catches himself and throws himself backward, landing on his butt and then flopping on his back with his arms outstretched. “Come on,” says Din, with a chuckle. He reaches down and pulls Cobb up to his feet, leaving his outline in the snow.

“Hey, look at that!” says Cobb, twisting to look back. “It really takes a print, doesn’t it? Not like dry sand at all. It’s so crazy that this is water.” He scoops up a mittenful and crumbles it around.

“Try squeezing it,” says Din. Cobb squashes the snow between his palms. “See how it compacts? It’ll hold together.” He’s remembering the short period his first covert spent living someplace very like this, a little compound in the snowy woods. Unlike most covert locations, it offered both secrecy and open space for children to run and play. The snow forts they built and the snowball battles they fought were both educational for warriors in the making and tremendous fun for a motley assortment of kids in hand-me-down winter clothes and soft training helmets. The snow was the first thing that brought him out of his shell to play with the others. Up to then he had been his foster father’s shadow, dumb with sorrow, until finally the sight of them running, shouting, flinging snow had sparked his attention.

Buir had seen where he was looking as Din stood beside him holding tightly a fistful of his cape. He’d looked down at Din, his helmet impassive, nothing like his lost parents’ dark, expressive eyes and smiling, talking mouths. But there was something kind in the tilt of his head, and he gently jerked it in the direction of the romping foundlings. Buir barely spoke because his larynx had been crushed in a fight years before. Rather than speaking through the mic in his helmet, he would hold a little electrolarynx device to his throat when he really needed to speak aloud, but more often than not he used a modified sign language, finding it more convenient. That was what he told Din back then, but thinking on it now, he’s fairly sure Buir switched to relying on signing because the electrolarynx made him sound a lot like a droid, and he saw how uncomfortable that made the child he’d picked up. He didn’t need to say “Go on”; Din understood, and after hesitating a moment longer, he released his grip on the crumpled fabric and ventured out to play.

That was the day he learned to make snowballs, and it’s something he can teach Cobb now, how to press and mould the snow between cupped palms, how to roll it down the slope, picking up more and more snow as it went, turning it between the two of them to keep its shape even and rounded. It makes them both laugh just out of happiness and satisfaction. Cobb’s cheeks and nose are flushed a sweet rosy pink. His eyes are bright, their hazel colour almost gold where the sharp sunlight catches it, and he’s altogether so lovely a sight that Din is glad his face is hidden and he can stare as openly and foolishly as he wants.

Together they build a snowman where the ground flattens out; he gets an idea and labours back up the hill in the sliding snow into the ship’s hold and brings back a bucket to mould its head into a snow Mandalorian. After that success they make their way down to the lake, and after Din checks how solid the ice is, they venture out on its surface, skidding around a little. Cobb keeps grabbing hold of his hand, and although it actually makes both of them a bit less stable, Din’s happy to let him. When Din asks, “You want to try sliding?” he’s immediately game. They run and slide on foot, on knees, and on a few accidental occasions on their asses until they’re out of breath and glowing with warmth. It occurs to Din that apart from a little light Grogu-entertaining, he hasn’t really played in years. He still knows how, though. Panting and laughing, they stagger off the ice and begin making their way back up the hill, wallowing in the knee-deep snow, helping each other up by reaching down from above or by pushing from below (hands on butts). At the top they look back at their chaotic trail across the formerly perfect snowscape.

“What do you think of it now?” Din asks.

“It’s fantastic,” says Cobb. “I couldn’t have imagined what it’s really like. And there’s no one I’d rather be here with than you.” He throws his arms around Din and, to his surprise, kisses him smack-dab on the cheek of his helmet. He can’t feel it, of course, but he enjoys it symbolically, at least for a few moments until it becomes clear that Cobb’s lips are stuck to the frosty metal. He tries to pull away, gives a little muffled cry of panic and pain, and stares helplessly through the eyeslot of Din’s visor. “Hnnh!”

“Dank farrik — it’s okay, hold still. Just — okay, put your hands on the helmet, hold it, take the weight. Got it? Don’t let go or it’ll peel your lips.” He steadies it with his hands too and brings his head and shoulders down, pulling his head out of the helmet. He’s dazzled by the unfiltered bright light for a moment, then gets a proper look at Cobb, scarlet-faced and glaring with anger, confusion and embarrassment, still smooching the helmet. He has to bite his own lip hard not to laugh, but it’s not really funny, he doesn’t want Cobb to get frostbite or tear the skin off his lips. “Stay there,” he says, turns and runs up the ramp into the ship. In the tiny, cramped galley he draws a cup of lukewarm water from the tap, then rushes back, trying not to spill it. “Okay. It’s okay, just hold very still for me, got it?” Carefully, he pours water over the join between lip and metal, while Cobb breathes loud and fast through his nose. After a few moments the icy seal breaks and Cobb is able to gently, carefully peel his lips away from the helmet. They’re very red and they look like they’re sore and stinging. “You don’t look like you’re bleeding anywhere,” Din says hopefully.

Cobb cautiously runs his tongue-tip over his lips and winces. “No, but they feel raw,” he says. “Goddamn that was cold!”

“I think you’ll survive,” Din says.

“Well, sure, I’ll survive,” says Cobb. “But could you kiss ‘em better?”

It seems only fair.

[queenlua]

ace attorney drink headcanons

franziska von karma:  one of those intimidating people who always drinks martinis and never spills a drop

athena cykes:  oh god, poor kid.  everything i was drinking at that age: cosmos, lemon drops, moscato, basically whatever on the menu has bright saturated colors and high enough ABV to kill me

maya fey:  she is the brave soul who always orders the most batshit-sounding thing on the menu.  clarified milk?  earl gray tea?  turkey stock?  chartreuse?  all valid cocktail ingredients in her book!

also, she’s lucky as hell, so instead of getting stuck drinking something that tastes like shoe, everyone asks to try what she ordered, and It’s Insanely Good Actually, and she gets to smugly watch as everyone else orders the same thing

more under the cut—

phoenix wright:  maya occasionally bullies him into ordering the most batshit-sounding thing on the menu, except whenever he does it, he ends up ruefully drinking something that tastes like shoe.  rip.

in general his preferences are very flexible, and he’s never bothered to figure out what’s Actually Good, so his liquor cabinet is this ridiculous mix of Actually Very Nice Stuff that people have gifted him, as well as Whatever Was On Sale At Kroger That Week, and he has no idea which is which so he just throws out a random assortment whenever company’s over

miles edgeworth:  a wine snob, obviously, but to everyone’s surprise he’s not a French Wines Or Bust kinda guy.  instead, he actually did a bunch of tedious research on the most promising but presently-underproducing wine regions nearby, and got memberships at like ten different wineries.  turns out, he was right, and now everyone in Paso Robles loves him & knows him by name & also all the bottles he’s had aging in his cellar for the past decade are now worth $$$, because he’s just got that good of taste.  he judges you if you go on a trip to Napa, that place is so overrated nowadays, but he at least has the grace to judge you silently. 

the first time he spends the night at Phoenix’s place, he peeks in the cupboard and sees a couple of those supersize bottles of Yellowtail moscato and/or some Franzia, and he nearly ends the relationship right there.  like, god, Phoenix, college has been over for ten years, have some standards

kristoph gavin:  also a wine snob, but of the French Wines Or Bust variety.  at some kind of office Christmas party, Kristoph and Edgeworth end up having a “casual” chat about wines, and it turns out they disagree on nearly everything, and also, Kristoph was radiating some Menacing Vibes, and honestly this dumb wine chat, more than anything, convinces Edgeworth that Phoenix is onto something.  this Kristoph dude is messed up.  who doesn’t enjoy a good cabernet sauvignon.  who.

simon blackquill:  the first time Simon ever goes to a bar, he excitedly asks for a Samurai Spirit.  the bartender naturally asks “what the hell is that,” Simon explains that it’s totally a real cocktail recipe he found on the internet, and the bartender insists he’s never heard of it.  no worries; Simon spent yesterday googling all the weebiest drinks he can think of.  maybe they have this one very high-end unfiltered sake?  nope.  what about a Bushido Blast?  nada.   what about a Peregrine?  buddy do we look like the kind of bar that keeps fancy liqueurs just lying around?  look, let me just make you a rum & coke because i got other customers to deal with, buddy.

naturally, Simon’s so put out by the whole experience he declares drinking to be bullshit for a while.  eventually Athena takes him to some bar that’s running a weeb-based menu during the local comic con, and Simon knows true joy again

...i can also imaging him going through an expensive scotch phase, just to be difficult.  (ever had that asshole at your party who’s like Actually I Only Drink Glenfiddich 18 Or Better?  yeah.  infuriating!)

apollo justice:  Apollo was a teetotaler for most of law school, until one Saturday night, when the stress was just Too Much, and he said “fuck it” and went to a big loud stupid party with people he only kinda liked.  he proceeded to drink way too much, and thus spent an entire evening/early morning/midday at the altar of the porcelain god, which convinced him Never Again.

he eventually got over it and now drinks a bit socially, but not often and not much.  it turns out alcohol really hates him.  he gets hungover as shit on, like, three beers.  poor dude

gumshoe: my fave salt-of-the-earth dude drinks Budweiser and/or Asahi, like a true red-blooded Japanifornian

i don’t have good ideas for Mia beyond “god, she’s so cool, just the coolest stuff you can think of,” nor do i have good ideas for Klavier (like, German beers? but that feels way too lazy/uncreative?), nor for Godot (are there... coffee cocktails?), so, suggestions welcome!

[liaisun]

Hi hope you don’t mind me asking but what is the monster therapy Au? Is it different from the other monster Au? It sounds cool whatever it is!

omg thank u for asking!!!!!! i love talking abt my aus its always welcome<3 when i saw u sent me an ask i got so excited JSJDKF also because i feel like you'd like it 👁️

yes!!! they r 2 different aus. so the monster therapy au is based off of this prompt: "You're a psychologist. Your speciality is monsters, who lack the self-confidence to actually scare anyone." and as soon as i saw it i was like BEE @ KEVIN!!!! it just clicked. honestly it does kinda have monsters inc vibes LOL, but in the sense like monster society values how scary u are.

so kevin is recently turned and undead; he's Tall, he's Intimidating but……. he's not scary. once you get to know him, what's there to be afraid of? HE'S the one who's scared. always. he's terrified. he's a coward—

once i read this thing about vampires going through the 5 stages of grief after theyve been turned and i kinda applied that here!!! even just being turned into a monster, thrust into this world u don't understand, really messes u up. most monsters are just born of the void, some are abstract and incomprehensible to the eye (powerful), some can switch between those forms and more corporeal ones, others are seen in various folklore and/or are human-like, but with other characteristics. then, people can become one after they die, either by being turned by another or being unable to rest, usually due to trauma. humans and monsters Don't coexist, so u lose everything and everyone you've ever known… compound that with some very traumatic experiences leading up to kevin's death and the death itself courtesy of one Ư̵͙̪N̵̺̲̊T̴͎̒̽H̸͎̔̉Í̸͓N̶̝̂́Ǩ̸͇̅Ä̵͕́̍B̸͇͐L̷̻̱̈́É̷̗ ̵͙͈͑̃Ň̶͓A̴̡̼̎M̸͊̊͜Ě̶̹͠ (UNTHINKABLE NAME) and bam. monster therapy time for kevin day

fear is a really big part of the story. it's what kevin tells bee is the defining characteristic of a monster; those who create it (everyone else), and those who feel it (him). ANDREW <3 his friend??? protector? small threatening omnipresent companion no one dares to cross after he devoured 4 higher souls on his first day undead? is someone who kev aspires to be. to him andrew embodies what a monster should be.

when i say kevin is recently turned i lied JSHSJF he was turned a while ago, but he was stuck as a little ball of fright (imagine the soot sprites from spirited away) in the shadows. one day andrew came across him and took him in, kept him safe and eventually…. kevin started changing. (inspired by the invisible children from moomin, kids who turn invisible after abuse but can become visible again with love and care and safety). kevin is a full being now, an actual monster, but he doesn't feel like it at all, which is where our story begins, with him talking to bee about this.

also because i am incapable of not including all three boys - neil! he is a complete shadow, dark and quiet and always moving, never taking any specific form. he's very interesting in their — kinda a mix of kandrew both. neil isn't frozen with fear like kevin was; he has bite and he isn't afraid of other monsters, has great power like andrew, but he's controlled by the past. even in a new life, he's still running, still invisible for the sake of survival.

the story isn't a romance (QUEERPLATONIC ROTATIONS) but it is full of love and trust. for example, kandrew: the dynamic between them is so important!!!!! foundation of thr au. the parallel and contrast of the times where kevin was vulnerable when a powerful person came 2 him; it destroyed kevin the first time, but now, with andrew by his side, it allows kevin 2 heal. also i think andrew became stronger while taking care of kevin in the beginning because his power wasn't running on anger and spite anymore, but protection 🥺

kevneil relationship: for kevin, i think neil entering his life in the same position kevin was/is in (but now having drew by his side) gives him new perspective . understanding . compassion too.

for neil, having people, tethers, support even in the smallest ways, makes him more real. brings him out. not in a physical sense— having a body most of the time is weird for him after changing for so long. he'll never choose or stick to one form, either. but overall, he's more settled in his existence, starts to see himself as an actual being, find his identity. even if he is Nothing, he's Nothing in the sense of a void, a black hole, and neil's been collecting bits of the world for years.

and although this au is kevin pov, i think a 2nd part with bee's pov and her different monster patients, the foxes, would be super fun :] (and more fitting of the prompt) so who knows.. . and if u want 2 know anything abt Other monster au (or any other monster au i have. so many) as well, i am here ;>

finally, here is a tidbit that doesn't fit the tone of this at all but i couldnt keep 2 myself LOL - there is a human-monster hotline u can call to speak to a liaison if u suspect monstrous activity in ur area! the number is 1-666-3005 and the Monster Identification Listing Force (MILF) is the organizer and even has an infomercial on human TV. for a generous donation of YOUR SOUL (ahem. 50¢) u can buy monster repellent. is it holy water? no, that's a common misconception - it is actually just unfiltered tap water because that stuff has so many metals in it the monsters take psychic damage near it<3 works like a charm

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Cosmic {1}

Lewis Tan x OFC Jupiter Azari

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Flirting, POV Changes, Fake Social Media Inserts

Words: 4k

Summary: Lewis has been single for three years after a stifling relationship that ended because of his reluctance to make a strong enough commitment. In that time, he’s focused on his career and living his life to the fullest. His goal was to have worthwhile experiences and make lasting connections. He’s got the experiences part down, but he’s never felt any sort of lasting connection until he’d seen your posts. After months of stalking your Instagram, he can’t stop thinking about you and decides to take a chance. Maybe it was time for him to take a chance on something new. 

Note: *Sigh* Another one, I know. *Deeper Sigh*. I apologize for the blurriness in some of the FAKE IG DMs. I’ve been working on this for so long, and finally, I can post a little something for it. Please tell me what you think. I am so excited to hear your thoughts.

Thank you guys so much for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/ Proofread***

***Interactive***

***Fake IG Post Creations***

-Lewis-

 He’d been single for a long time now. Three years. He’d been in a serious relationship for twice as long, so the math was right to him. There was no lying that he missed some of the advantages of relationships and having someone to journey through life’s ups and downs with. He missed things such as intimate dinner dates, entwining his fingers with someone else’s and relishing the feel of skin against skin, getting to know someone almost as well as he knew himself, and deep, fulfilling conversations. One of the most significant things he missed was companionship.

He knew he was not an unattractive guy. He also knew that being who he was, he could meet people effortlessly have a series of no strings attached romances where his physical needs were minimally satisfied for a short time. That was not a problem, but he’d long realized that was never enough for him. He needed more—a lot more. His busy schedule didn’t help matters at all, either. He was either on a flight every week or going between fight practice, meetings, filming, and a lot more. It took time to nourish a relationship and mold it so it could blossom into something strong and beautiful, time he just didn’t have. It was a simple fact—or so he thought.

 More and more, he’d been feeling as if maybe he could make that time; maybe he could find a way to have the highly sought after satisfying professional life but also that deeply fulfilling personal life. Maybe it was possible without having something or someone fall to the side. He began to think maybe he was ready to address his other needs.

 Groaning, he looked at the clock beside him. Two o’clock. Rolling out of bed, he walked into his bathroom. The day before was a long one; he hadn’t gotten in until nearly three in the morning. This was the first day in several that he’d been able to get more than seven hours of sleep. His body was telling him something. After tackling his hygiene routine, he pulled on a pair of his athletic quick-dry leggings and shorts then made his way to the back of his beach house.

It was another beautiful day in Spain, and he was ready to carpe diem the hell out of it—after he got his jog in. As he ran his standard four miles, his mind wandered to a variety of topics. He ran down his schedule for the next few days, went over his goals for the month, and made mental notes of things he needed to get done for the week. He believed in discipline, and the utmost show of discipline was having some over one’s life. Perhaps it was something he learned from his father as he trained in martial arts, or maybe it was a life lesson he’d picked up after so many years in the industry, both working and associating.

 By the time he plopped down onto the cool sand, almost two hours had passed, and he was sweaty and out of breath. He panted while gaping at the softy rolling waves and the faint sounds of the seagulls. It was a sight to be seen, one he was appreciative of. As he was getting lost in the view, a reminder popped up on his phone.

 *Social Media update*

 Sighing, he opened up his Instagram account and scrolled through his feed. If he didn’t set reminders for himself about social media, he would forget it entirely. He was one of those people who preferred to live life unfiltered and didn’t see a need to blog or vlog every little thing. He liked to share meaningful things. On the other hand, his team made it a priority for him to do more than share meaningful things. Their motto is if you’re not being seen or talked about, your brand and existence are inconsequential.

 So, four times a day, he had reminders set up. The plan was to engage with his fans while showing his personality. His agent’s exact words were; “Show the world what a swoon-worthy guy Lewis Tan is.”

 Just as he clicked over to his drafts, he registered her face. Quickly he tapped back onto his feed and on her recent post. It was an incredibly artistic photo of what could have been the universe, or even the mind’s third eye, or possibly a woman giving birth. It was just that subjective, but it was done in a way that made it seem as if you were looking through a kaleidoscope. He sat there marveling at the first photo, not even realizing there were three more that accompanied it.

 As he swiped through them, his mind was further blown. Each one gave off a psychedelic vibe. When he got to the last one, he found himself sighing out at the sight of her. The caption was,  “Art is subjective; who do you see?” Her face was one that easily held someone captive. Her eyes were impossibly deep and inviting. They drew him in, in a haunting and mysterious way. Even her username was creative as fuck. JupiterFallingToEarth.

 He’d spent weeks following her activity. She posted every day about once a day, sometimes two, and her posts ranged from artistic shots of landscapes, items, herself, and then she also posted products and fashion. It was clear she was a lifestyle blogger, and according to some of her posts, she was probably an influencer of some sort. There was something about her that drew him in from the first post he accidentally came across. That was four months ago.

 Since then, he’d practically stalked her page. The second he got a notification that she’d posted something, he was looking at it soon after. When he saw her stories, they always put a smile on his face. She was effortlessly adorable and sexy at the same time. It was a contradiction but one that you wore well. He didn’t know if he’d turned into one of those guys he’d seen countless times on Instagram. The ones who stalked a woman’s page and liked every single one of her posts and left vague comments under her pictures that could come off as creepy. He feared he had turned into that man.

 His interactions with her hadn’t gone to creepy lengths. He’d liked most of your posts, never commented because gossip was a real thing in his world, but liked other people’s comments under your posts. Sometimes he’d even tune in if you were on lives, and every time he watched, he was always filled with an urge to know you—really. He wondered if you’d even noticed he’d liked your pictures or if you’d gone to his page from curiosity to get lost in his content. One thing was sure; you’d never liked any of his posts. He’d noticed.

 “Get a fucking grip, man.”

 To help him on his way, he dropped his phone in the sand and ran to the waves hoping the water would do the trick. The coldness of the water shocked him, but it was a welcomed shock. Swimming further out to sea, he fought against the tide. Though he was exhausted, and his limbs were damn near numb, he pushed himself for just a little longer.  

 Ten minutes later, he dropped back onto the sand by his belongings while trying to catch his breath. That swim had his adrenaline surging competing with his exhaustion. Grabbing his phone, he went back to his drafts. Rather than posting one of them, he took a few shots of himself as he was dripping wet and all. Deciding on a relaxed-looking one, he prepped it to post. Before he did, though, he added a caption.

With it posted, he hopped to it. After a quick shower, he was off to tackle the day. On the agenda were three meetings for some brands that wanted him to work with them. The first up was a local Spanish sunglass brand, Vosotros. Throughout the meeting, he could tell that the campaign that they wanted to do was centered around bodies. Since the brand translated to the word “you,” their pitch was why not focus on everyone’s best selling feature—their body. It was a bit shallow for him, but the product was nice, and the pay was equally as appealing.

 After signing the contract, he moved to the second meeting. This one was for a couture men’s wear brand, Alma. This one he was familiar with. He’d worn many of their suits. They were comfortable but stylish and made from the best fabrics. He always felt like a million bucks when he wore them. This one was a no-brainer for him, and the compensation was the icing on the cake.

 Right before the third meeting began, he found he was running a little bit empty. The last time he’d had a meal was the night before. Before the meeting started, he pulled out his phone with the intent to figure out what was nearby so he could refuel once the meeting was finished. Once he saw the notifications, he opened up Instagram just to glance at them, but after scrolling through the eight thousand, among them, he found her name. Thinking he’d seen things, he scrolled all the way back to the top to refresh it, then scrolled back down, and sure enough, there it was.

 She’d liked six of his posts back to back. He couldn’t stop the wide grin that spread across his face. It was so broad that anyone would have thought he’d never gotten a like in his life. He spent the next few minutes going through which posts she’d liked. Each one made him smile wider and wider. By the time the prospective employers walked in, he was refueled enough to carry him through the rest of the day.

 ~~~~~~~~~~ 

-Y/N-

You’d finally bit the bullet. After four months of seeing the notifications on every one of your posts that he’d liked it or liked a comment under; it was about time. Right? The truth was you noticed each of them. The first time you got the notification, you almost fell out of your seat. You knew who he was because you’d seen one or two things that he’d been in and always thought he was hot, but of course, it was in passing. After the second notification of his like, you rushed to his page to go through each of his posts and found yourself salivating over every picture.

 After about half an hour, you got snapped back to your senses. The odds of it being him were slim to none. While you knew many celebrities liked to troll social media for their next piece of ass or entertainment, you never got that vibe from him. You deduced it must have been either a fan page or catfish at its best. So what did you do? Ignored it.

 You ignored every notification and did your best to shrug off the basal instinct that had your belly fluttering. In total, you had nearly two hundred posts, and he’d liked each and every one of them. It was a lot of ignoring. Today though, something came over you, and that something had you going to his page to see his new post. You couldn’t do anything else but stare. The truth was your finger slipped to tap the heart, and once you did, you tapped it again to unlike, but you knew once a like went through, you couldn’t take it back. Your only option was to deal with it. You dealt with it by liking five more of his pictures. Go big or go home, right.

 After ten minutes, you were still lamenting over if you should have or shouldn’t have. The internal conflict in you was high, especially when you began to kick yourself for overthinking it. There was no way it was really him. It was impossible. With that in mind, you calmed yourself enough to meet up with your friends. After pressing mute on your notifications, you proceeded to get yourself ready. It had been a good week since you and your friends had gotten the opportunity to hang out due to your busy schedules.

 When you were more than halfway there, your excitement began bubbling. When the four of you got together, it was always a good time. As soon as the Lyft dropped you off at the restaurant, a new construction that all four of you were dying to try, you were more than ready to eat, drink, and laugh. You stood outside for a few moments to admire the chosen exterior décor. It was an intricate mix of modern and seaside charm. It definitely was something different for the neighborhood.

 Walking inside past a line of about twelve or so people, you marveled at the entrance of the restaurant. Whoever designed it truly did a fabulous job. It was featured in the papers as one of the best new restaurants to try out in the downtown area. The way they’d incorporated indoor plants seriously captivated your attention.

“Welcome to Creator, my name is Kenji,” began the host who towered over you by like eight inches and bore green-hazel eyes. He was cute. “Do you have a reservation?” His smile was wide, and it showed off that his two front teeth were bigger than all the others. He made it work, though.

 “Yes. I believe my party is already here. I’m not sure who it’s under, though.”

 Kenji scanned the list of names on the iPad before her. As he did that, you scrolled through your texts to find the details that Zoë sent you. After a few short moments, he glanced back at you. After you found the reservation name, you rolled your eyes. Your friends thought they were funny.

 “Found it?”

 “Yes, and I apologize in advance,” you began. Kenji, the host, wrinkled his brow, not getting it. He would, though.

 Clearing your throat, held your head high, then spoke. “Punani Dasani.”

 Kenji’s eyes widened, then he pinched his lips tightly before he nodded and tapped a few keys on the iPad.

 “Wow. Eh-em. Yep, they’re here.”

 Nodding, you dropped your phone back into your clutch. When you looked back up, you caught Kenji’s eyes glued to your cleavage. When his eyes met yours, the embarrassment in them was obvious. Dipping his head, he signaled for you to follow him.

 The two of you walked through the restaurant under low hung plants, vines, and flowers. It was like walking through the garden of Adam and Eve. That must be what the owner had in mind when naming it Creation. It was clever, you thought. Just then, Kenji approached the table with your three friends. Once they saw you, they made a loud “Skeee” sound bringing the attention to those nearby. You couldn’t take them anywhere.

 “You guys think you’re funny with the reservation name?”

 They all laughed at you as you dipped down and greeted each of them with cheek kisses.

 “How did he look at you? From the way he keeps looking back, I can bet he wanted to sample that punani Dasani,” Tati joked to each of their delight.

 They were a trip, always had been. You, Tati, Monaè, and Zoë had been friends since high school and somehow managed to remain tight even though you each went your separate ways to different colleges. You each had spent two years apart until you came back together to finish your final two years of university together.

 “Don’t be mad. He wasn’t that cute anyway,” Monaè said, opening the menu before her.

 Cold-hearted, you thought as you did the same. Dinner progressed with laughs and stories of your days and recent happenings in your lives. As you ate, you decided to forget everything else and just enjoy yourself. You were in desperate need of a girl’s night, so you vowed to enjoy it fully.

 The food was delicious. Somehow they’d managed to make it taste healthy but also savory and completely indulgent. You felt as if every bite you took added thirty pounds, but you knew it wasn’t possible. The flavors all melded together so well that you wanted to send a message to the chef, letting them know they’d done well.

After a deeply fulfilling meal, the four of you piled into a Lyft and made it to your favorite club, Surge.  The music in the club was so loud that you could feel it bouncing inside of you. After getting your first round of drinks, the dancing began, and when the four of you got together with drinks and music, it was always an event.  You jumped into the middle of your circle and busted out your wine. Tati grabbed your phone from your hands and began recording you. Ignoring the camera and the gathering crowd, you allowed the alcohol to do its job and take you away.

 When you heard your friends cheering you on, you decided to really bust out your moves. Dropping to the floor, you did your best twerk. Holding your drink in the air, you began to wine your hips as you stood. It was one of your favorite moves. When you turned around, you saw Tati up close and personal. Slapping your hand in front of the lens, you giggled as you took your phone back to end the recording.

 “Jesus girl, those hips definitely don’t lie,” Monaè teased, making all your friends laugh.

 From behind, you felt someone approach you and place their hand on your waist. Turning, you gave him the rays of death with your stare telling him to back off. As quickly as he’d had the audacity to put his hand on you, he took it off just as quickly and backed away.

 “And don’t come back,” Zoë shouted.

 By the time you made it back home, it was three in the morning, and your feet hurt almost as much as your ass did. After leaving the club, the four of you had an impromptu photo shoot that lasted almost forty-five minutes and ended with you on your ass at the bottom of the pile once you’d tried some ridiculous cheerleading pose trying to relive your high school days. Big mistake.

 After a quick shower that had you almost falling asleep a few times, you dove into your bed, ready for some well-deserved rest. Just as you’d gotten comfortable, your phone’s alarm went off. Groaning, you reached over the edge of the bed, grabbing your bag to rifle through it. With your phone in hand, you blearily stared at the harsh light making your eyes feel as if they hadn’t closed in days rather than hours. You went to your alarm to turn it off, deciding that your routine dawn photo expedition would have to be rescheduled. You were too exhausted.

 Just as you were going to toss it away, you saw the notification of messages on Instagram. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you slid it down to get a preview. Through the blur in your eyes, you saw an icon that looked familiar. Tapping it, you nearly swallowed your tongue when you saw Lewis Tan’s image. Bolting upright, you coughed and slid to brace your back on your headboard.

 “What the--!”

The minute you saw it, you couldn’t believe your eyes. He’d send you a message. Chewing your bottom lip, you studied the time he’d sent it—over four hours ago. You then realized he’d see that you saw it, and you debated in your head if you should reply.

 “Jesus, get it together. Just say something simple,” you coached.

It was weak, but it was the best you had. You wondered if he would think it was weak too. As you obsessed about that, you also realized just how late it was. You’d responded to a DM at booty call hours. Rolling your eyes, you slouched back on your headboard. Your eyelids were heavy, and they drooped, trying to tell you something. Once they closed, your phone chimed that elaborate tone for your notifications.

Why had you responded? It was clear this was some fan page who either was using his image to catfish or gain followers. You never responded to questionable DMs, and this was as questionable as they got.

Even though you were still fighting your sleep, part of you was intrigued.

Flipping your smart TV on, and you turned to the Netflix app and found something for background noise.

Nibbling your bottom lip, you thought for a few moments. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol that had you thinking this deeply or if it was something else.

You snorted and shook your head. “He’s really going down with the ship, huh.”

This was always the reaction when anyone found out your name. They were always shocked and speechless. Usually, you got a few corny jokes or mentions about your favorite planet must be Jupiter or bring up some astronomy fact that was always wrong. It was annoying. You braced yourself for some equally corny mention from him.

The corny mention never came.

Your heart fluttered, and you couldn’t help but cheese from his compliment. You hadn’t expected it. Though you tried to stop smiling, you couldn’t. There was something about his words. It wasn’t like you’d never heard sweet words before. You had. This shouldn’t have been any different.

The exhaustion began to take a more significant hold, and you slid lower, tucking your comforter underneath your chin.

Filming? What the heck was he talking about, you wondered. He was really taking this shit a little too far.

You bolted upright again. Was he seriously going to take this that far?

He was insane, absolutely mental. You were so damn ready to end this. One thing you hated was dishonesty. You especially hated being toyed with.

There was no way that he could prove it. What was he going to do?

He thought you were an idiot. He must have. Your anger was rising.

Rolling your eyes, you tossed your phone beside you. You knew the chances of him passing this test were slim to none. You couldn’t believe that you’d given up the last thirty minutes of sleep for this. Groaning, you dropped back down, determined to drift away to sleep. Almost two minutes passed before you heard your chime again. Fighting the urge, you turned to your side, trying your best to ignore the fact that you knew he’d sent something.

After two minutes of curiosity killing you, you flung your hand back, grabbed your phone while flipping onto your back. You held your phone above your face, opened the app, and there he was.

Your jaw dropped, and your eyes drank in every inch and rippling ab. Jesus, you thought. As you were bringing your phone closer, you didn’t register that a video call was coming in. without even realizing it, you answered, and the same image you’d been looking at moments ago was now live. The only difference was the frame wasn’t as low to show his incredible abs. It cut right at his chest, giving you a peek at his dark, dusty rose nipples. You were utterly frozen. He smiled and raked his hand through his hair before he bit onto his bottom lip. It was Lewis fucking Tan.

 “Enough proof for you?” He smiled, and that was when your phone slipped and fell right in your face.

 “Fuck, owww!”

 The pain was so strong you were tearing up. Rolling to the side, you rubbed your face, then searched for your phone. When you got to it, the video call had ended, showing you your home screen.

 You began to freak out. “Oh my god, oh my god! What the fuck! What the fuck! What the fuck!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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