#I DO INTEND TO WRITE MORE!! AND I DO INTEND TO LET IT GET WEIRDER

[sluckythewizard]

Keep calm, and drink soda

[CW for blood and gore and vomit] takes place a day or two after emizel was sired. just two boys adjusting to a shift in their daily norms. would YOU drink your homies blood? still not used to writing fanfic so any and all advice IS appreciated. i hope u enjoy.

There were very few things that Soda enjoyed more than well, drinking soda. It was a hobby, an interest, a comfort. And by extension there were very few errands that Soda would look forward to more than the occasional soda run.

The gas station closest to the Demons hideout had stopped selling Faygo entirely about a month or two ago, and it was near impossible to find it anywhere else. The closest place was now this janky little Shell gas station, lovingly titled the Shady Shell, that thankfully sold more flavors than any of the other ones ever did.

It made the hour and a half walk here entirely worth it. Even if this side of town made his skin crawl. Normally he would ask someone to accompany him on this daring little quest, but everyone at the hide out tonight just seemed too tired, too preoccupied, too uninterested.

He knew not everyone really got the soda thing, but they were accepting of it for the most part. Soda is something that, clearly, Soda really loves, but he knew not everyone else was into it.

Which was fine, of course. They didn't need to get it. But, still, sometimes Soda found himself wondering how much of it was a bit, and how much was him.

Emizel gets it perfectly though. He would've been the first person Soda would ask to go on this soda run with him, but, well. He's been preoccupied too, with the whole vampire thing.

It's been a bit more than a day since Soda had last seen his close comrade. For a friend that he saw just about everyday, going without him this long left him feeling a little emptier.

That was fine, though. Emizel had shit he was working out, he had things he needed to do. It's not like he could go out in the day anymore, so of course Soda wouldn't be seeing him at all the usual times.

It was a lot of weird and heavy magical stuff, it made Soda think about those superhero shows. Where the hero needs to keep his identity hidden from everyone. Family especially. He knows how much of a piece of shit Emizels dad is, so he hoped that Emizels home life wasn't stirred up all stupid-like over this.

He hasn't told anyone else, about what happened that night. For the last 2 days, Soda would spend time with close friends and not let them know a thing about what happened to Emizel so, so recently. Why he's so suddenly absent, so distant, so.. off…

'Maybe his dad's just giving him a hard time', he would say, hoping to smother their questions. The less questions they ask, the better. At least until this vampire stuff gets figured out a bit more. Should Emizel wear a disguise when he goes out at night now? Just like a superhero? What kind of hero outfit would Emizel have anyways? Soda figured it would be something really cool.

If anyone could figure out a way to balance all this vampire stuff, and all the leaderly responsibilities that come with being the biggest dog in the Demons, it was Emizel for sure. That guy is so seriously cool.

He was sure this rough patch would even out, and they would weather the next rough patch together no problem. There was really nothing to worry about! All Soda has to do is stay positive, and well, drink soda.

As Soda walks quietly down the crumbling sidewalks of this dreary hive of strip malls and shops, he goes to pull his backpack around to his chest, fumbling with the zipper in the dark. Which was a little annoying, considering the tab of his zipper had fallen off forever ago. He really needed to get around to fixing this damn thing. Maybe another ziptie and a soda tab will do the trick.

Humid air hangs heavy in the night, the sidewalks still somewhat warm after a hotter day. The diesel-soaked air provided enough warmth on its own that Soda had considered taking his jacket off a few times, only for the occasional, annoyingly sharp and chilly breeze to brush by, reminding him to keep the thing on.

Tripping only once and only slightly on an uneven sidewalk, Soda manages to pull a bottle of Faygo from his backpack, a smile glowing on his face. Another short fight with the zipper seals up the bag, and he slings it over his shoulder again.

His flavor of choice tonight was actually the Red Pop, the tried and true, the absolute classic, one of the best Faygo flavors for sure.

But, this kind wasn't actually his favorite. Normally he would stock up on the cotton candy ones, but something about the last few days had him craving the red stuff.

Securing his backpack all the way, he goes to crack open the bottle. Just the clack and the hisssss of the fizzy drink were enough to lift his mood.

Not that his mood needed lifting or anything. Of course. Sure he missed his friend and sure he found himself wondering what he’s doing and where he is and if he's okay. Maybe sometimes he found himself wishing they talked about funeral plans more.

Emizel talked up all sorts of crazy funeral ideas for himself, usually involving the use of his dead body as an inconvenience for others. Outlandish and hilarious ideas, like filling it with explosives and tossing it into a busy road. But what would he want seriously? What would Soda ever do if he just stopped showing up one day?

He had to swallow down all these unnecessary anxieties, so he took a swig of his soda. Sweet, bubbly, comforting. He felt better already! Just stay positive, and drink soda..

It was a lovely night out, and he didn't come all this way planning on letting it go to waste. There was a place he was heading towards, a particular alleyway in this particular place that led off to a particularly tall concrete ledge.

 It was a run-down little space, littered with trash and shitty trees and those bushes with just too many goddamn ants in them. But the view was fairly nice, overlooking a massive deformed intersection. A particularly stupid one, at that; about 3 times a week you could witness a gnarly crash at this spot. Soda always heard people saying that LA folks can't drive, but he was just starting to figure that maybe no one can drive.

That was the place he really wanted to go to enjoy this soda, and he wasn't too far off from it. Just a few more blocks, and he would be there.

Oh wait, didn't he still have a bag of chips in this backpack somewhere? Hell yeah, he couldn't wait to sit down and relax with a good soda, a good snack, and a good view of the night.

Living as a Demon had its fair share of stresses. He felt lucky to have this life, but he knew well that it could be better. That not everyone has to worry about survival the way they do. That not everyone gets injured on the regular and not everyone has to worry about being sick and never getting better.

Living is hard. But it's finding the small moments of joy that make it all worth it. Dying would be scarier anyway. He didn't want to die, and he felt glad to feel so confident in that nowadays.

The sudden   THUNK  of something slamming into the ground just a block away from him, jolts him out of his thoughts, all his gears screeching to a halt as he freezes in place. What the fuck was that?

It looked like a person, laying flat on the ground with only their head and shoulders peeking out of the alleyway ahead. Fuck. He hated this side of town..

Anxiety churns in his stomach as he debates just turning around, but the way the victim reaches an arm out, attempting to crawl away; it made his heart ache aswell. he's no goddamn fighter, but he couldn't just leave someone like th-

The body is suddenly yanked back into the alley, snatched at a startling speed. It didn't feel exactly real, how could something vanish so fast? It reminded Soda of something from a horror movie, or whatever. What the fuck was that??

His foot takes a step forward, before the rest of his body notices its rebellion and locks down again. Was he seriously going to investigate that? He could just walk away and take another alley. But that was the one he was supposed to turn down! All the other alleys are either walled off or gated off and he wasn't about to go climbing over a damn wire gate. His soda would get too shaken up! Fuck!

Another foot goes in for another step forward. He's gotta get the fuck out of here. He could hear more commotion in the alleyway, a scuffle, a skirmish. He could hear someone cursing through a choked breath. A loud and nauseating crack echoes out from the alley, and yet, Soda takes another step forward.

This was stupid, he shouldn't be getting tangled up in someone else's business. What if something happened to all this soda?

Thankfully, it was that thought that actually got him to pause, and take in a deep breath. It wasn't worth it, maybe he should head straight home.

Atleast, that was the thought his heart and mind were about to agree on, until a particularly familiar grroowwwwlll bleeds out from the alley.

Emizel?

All reason immediately evaporates as Soda makes that connection in his head, stepping right up to the corner of the brick walls, and peering around to investigate.

There was a body on the floor, face down in a puddle of red, head split open in a way that reminded Soda of a smashed watermelon.

But standing over that body, was the familiar, blackened coat, and short blonde hair, of Sodas closest comrade, Emizel.

Despite the carnage on the floor, Soda couldn't help the smile that lights up his face. That was Emizel! That was his boy!

But before he could get over just how happy he felt to see his best friend, something else caught his eye. Movement, behind the dumpster closest to the vampire boy. A person, rising out from the shadows with a glinting baseball bat clutched fiercely in their hands.

"Oh fuck, look out!" Soda speaks up, and Emizels gaze immediately clicks over to him, silencing Soda with just that startlingly red stare.

He had forgotten just how uneasy those red eyes made him..

The attacker, silent and professional, rushes up behind Emizel and CRACKS the metal bat downwards onto his blonde head, the sound ringing out like a  gun shot  in that dark little alleyway.

Soda cringes from just the sound of the impact, but was amazed to find that the bat had warped under the force of it!

The attacker hardly had a chance to process his mangled weapon before Emizel whips around to retaliate.

It looked like he had just swung his hand at his opponent, so the way a shower of red spills outward from the slash, catches Soda completely off guard. The monster boy had cleaved an excruciatingly massive gash up from the attackers right hip, to his left shoulder, the slice spewing with scarlet.

 It wasn't until Emizel had pulled back his arm, that Soda could process the way it had darkened with more than just blood, distorted into an odd, spear-like shape.

The victim hardly had a chance to yelp before that blade swoops up into his chest at the speed of a snapping bear trap, plunging through meat and bone with disturbing ease, and forcing blood and viscera to erupt outwards. The red patters down onto the concrete behind, the sound similar to rain...

With another low, inhuman snarl, Emizel brings the twitching, dying body closer, until that signature squish of teeth sinking into fresh meat bleeds outward into the space.

What a disgusting sound, Sodas first instinct was to simply avert his eyes, but as the sound persists, he resolves that he has to do something.

He finally steps out into the alley, and speaks.

"Hey ma-"

He could hardly get two words out before Emizel suddenly rips its teeth away from its victims throat, tearing out a hefty chunk of jellied meat, and slamming the remaining fodder onto the concrete floor.

It immediately whips around to stare down Soda, red eyes glowing with reflected light, and with hardly a chance to process the moment-

-It's immediately right infront of Soda.

A gasp lurches from Soda's lungs as he almost stumbles back in shock. How was Emizel so fucking fast?

Other than that single step back, Soda was frozen in shock, his tongue buzzing with the physical pain of such a startling jolt. 'White boy jumpscare' is something that came to mind, but while usually such a thought would evoke some sort of laugh from Soda, this time it offered no such comfort. Okay maybe it did a little.

Emizels snarling face was only inches away from Sodas. Its eyes were wild and unnatural, teeth menacingly sharp and reddened with so much fucking blood. It was everywhere, coating most of his face, smothering his shirt and his coat, and absolutely choking the air with its thick, metallic stench.

Soda would gag if he felt he was safe to even move. He felt like he was locking eyes with that of a creature, something he would only ever see in his nightmares or in scary movies. But it was real. Those monsters are real. And his best friend is one of those monsters. His bestest friend in the world...

His mind was skewered on that unnatural glare, completely frozen with anxiety. Stalling too hard to come to a proper conclusion, Soda instead falls back onto what Soda does best.

"H-hey man... You want some soda?"

He very gently presses the opened bottle of Faygo into Emizels chest.

The two boys stand there for a moment, locked in a tense, silent pause, before the monster boy finally peels its gaze down to the bottle.

It's quiet, for a few seconds, the gears turning in its head. Until the monster blinks, and its eyes clear, and Emizel processes the sight of the bottle.

"Oh, fuck yeah dude, is that the Candy Apple Faygo? Man, that stuffs my favorite!" Emizel smiles as he goes to accept the bottle, and immediately takes a massive swig.

Soda tries to disregard the way his hands were still shaking. "Uh, n-nah man, its just Red Po-"

The words are bit off as Emizel suddenly retches, a heavy flood of red blood and red Faygo spewing out onto Soda, as the vampire boys body entirely rejects the fizzy drink.

The shock of getting fucking projectile vomited on had snapped Soda out of whatever daze he was just in, and it seemed to snap Emizel out of it too. Soda backs up with a groan, looking down at all the blood and bile and pop on his shirt and coat.

"Ohhh fuck dude, what the hell??" He cringes, not even wanting to try smearing any of it off with his hand.

Emizel was coughing, still holding out the Faygo bottle, but hunched over as his body dared to convulse again.

"Ohhhhhh fuck, ohhooohhh fuuuuucckkk" he grumbles towards the floor "Fuuuck I’m sorry dude, I don't know what fuckin- oohhhgg shit,” He coughs and groans,  offering the bottle back to Soda.

Soda was still staring at his messied coat with a displeased grimace, but looking up to meet Emizels eyes...

There was a guilt on Emizels face that Soda didn't see too often, and it helped wash away that irritation he felt. This sucked, but Emizel was probably going through a lot more. 

“It’s, uhm.. don't, don't worry about it, man..” Soda decides to reassure him, offering a sympathetic smile, and a hand on Emizels shoulder, as his comrade spits out the remaining blood and bile.

"Fuckin hell… I’m uh, I'm sorry about your shirt, man."

"What? Nahh it's okay man, don’t worry about it." Soda shrugs, taking the Faygo bottle back. "I mean, are you okay man? That uh.. looked like a pretty crazy fight."

Emizel was rubbing his eyes, smearing more blood across his face as he seems to be collecting himself. he spares a glance back at the carnage behind him.  

"Ah.. yeah.. I thought I uh.. I thought I saw that one fucker from uh. That one night. Yknow, the one that uh.." He snaps his fingers, as if trying to summon back the memory. "Vampire bitch... Anyway after that I just kind of, uh.."

He seems to space out again as he looks around. It was as if he was just woken up from a deep sleep, like he was certain he had just known what he was doing, but found the dream escaping him. "I guess I just.. went crazy on these guys. I dunno, they're Fangs anyways." he finally shrugs it all off, but Soda still felt unsatisfied by the answer.

"Oh.. huh…” is the only response he manages to scrounge together. Sure they were Fangs, but did they really deserve.. all that? It just seemed a bit brutal, even by Emizels standards.

He found his eyes wandering over to the split-open head. It was mostly red and bloody, but even in the dark, he could still make out some of the finer details of the gray jelly seeping from the gash. A human brain. He wondered if his own brain looked the same on the inside..

“So what are you doing out here, man?” Emizels question helps Soda pull his eyes away from the gore, instead looking over to his bloodied comrade.

Emizel looked messy and even exhausted, but his drowsy gaze was focused on Soda with a worried expression. 

“Oh, uh, yknow, just a soda run. Decided I would stock up on some Faygo from the Shady Shell.” Soda shrugs, his eyes flickering down to the opened Faygo in his hand. The top was covered in regurgitated blood. unnaturally blackened blood…

“Are you.. okay, by the way? Other than the whole..” Soda gestures vaguely at the gruesome crime scene. “Are you hurt?”

The question has Emizel pausing to consider. He straightens his back and stretches his arms, as if trying to detect any pain from any possible injury. Nothing seemed to be bothering him though, and after a second, he decides to shrug.

“Nah, I'm all good.”

“Oh.. That's good, I uh…” Soda found himself looking over Emizel aswell, searching for any wounds the monster boy might be simply disregarding, as he often does.

There was a fairly gnarly gash on his shin..

“Hey uh, I was actually gonna go hang out by the ledge down that way. Yknow, the one with the funny intersection.” Soda says, gesturing off towards where he intended to go. “Wanna come with?”

Emizel looks back that way, before turning back to Soda with a big smile on his face. 

“Oh hell yeah I do! I love the funny intersection!” he starts to walk down the alley, about to step over the body of the broken skull, when Soda speaks up.

“Uh, hey, shouldn't we uh.. Do something about the.. uh..” He waves a hand over towards the bodies, trying not to look directly at them. 

Emizel spares the corpses an inconvenienced glance, and a sigh, but ultimately shrugs them off. “Ehhh I'll just dump 'em in a dumpster again.. That's what I've been doing anyway.”

“And you're not worried about, like, anyone finding them?”

Soda anxiously watches on as Emizel paces around the body with the torn-out throat, licking the blood from his own mouth. Was his tongue always that long and pointed? That's neat, and normally Soda would point it out, but he was a bit.. preoccupied right now 

“Nahh not really. I haven't had anyone bother me at least.. Anyone been bothering you?” Emizels eyes finally flick back over to Soda. 

“Nah, I'd say things are actually more lax than usual. Anything that would end up being trouble’s been pretty much crushe- er, killed- destr- stamped out, by uh, by you.” Sods was cringing with every attempt to find a word that didn’t make his stomach turn, but Emizel didn’t seem to notice or mind.

Emizels eyes were currently a bit more focused on the body laying before him. He had that weird look on his face again… 

“Uhh, yeah, yeah that's good that uh, no troubles coming back to you guys…”

There’s a moment of quiet between the two as Emizel stares at this corpse, and Soda was about to open his mouth to fill the silence, but Emizel speaks up instead.

“Hey uh, why don’t you go ahead of me? I’ll uh, I'll meet you at the place.” He suggests, pointing vaguely off down the alley, but not removing his eyes from the kill. 

Soda certainly hesitates, his eyes narrowing before he even forms a thought. He opens his mouth to object, but then his eyes flicker back towards the body.

“Are you gonna eat this one too?”

The question leaves Sodas mouth as soon as it comes to mind.

Emizel pauses, and considers, before giving a shrug. “I don't see why not. Perfectly good blood.” He reaches down to grab his kill by the shirt, the one with the split open head. As the corpse rises from the concrete, gray matter drips and sloughs from the crack in its skull. Once again, Soda felt the need to look away, and yet his stupid eyes remained fixated on the horrendous sight. Emizel looks over the spilling brain of his meal, licking his lips curiously. “Dude, what do you think would happen if I ate his brain?” Emizel asks, looking back over to Soda with a wild, bloodied smile. Something about that look made Soda shiver, but.. Not really in a bad way… “Uh, I.. Dunno…. Eating a persons brain is how you get like, mad cow disease right? But you might also be immune to disease.. Are you immune to disease?” “Uhhh, I don't know yet actually. I'm still figuring out how much of this is like video games,” Emizel says, rubbing the back of his head as he idly sways the body of his kill around, watching the blood and gore drip and drop from its broken head. “Eh, I'll chance it later.” Without another word or thought, Emizel goes to sink his teeth into the shoulder of his kill, a pleased growl radiating from him as the blood gushes around the bite. More fresh blood upon less fresh blood upon old blood upon older blood. Just so much fucking blood. Soda thought he was used to seeing blood, but this… this was just egregious. Was he really starting to get used to this? It’s just blood after all, and it’s not from his comrades, so it's… fine… He finally manages to pull his eyes away from the gruesome sight of Emizel feeding, but his eyes instead wander down to the blood on his own shirt. Emizels blood was strange, darker than usual, and carrying a different scent. Something about the smell of his blood was more savory, more appealing than the standard metallic miasm. His shirt was smothered in it, his jacket was coated in it, and his opened bottle of Faygo was also splattered with the deep red ichor. Ink swirls within the bottle of red fizzy, spreading out into all sorts of odd patterns. It was a lot of blood. He was certain a lot of it came from however many people Emizels been feeding on. With how much hes been terrorizing the Fangs in just the last few days, and with how nonchalantly he feasts on his kills, who knows how much blood hes actually ingested… Soda swirls the bottle, watching the blood inside thin out into strands, dancing within the bubbly soda as they gradually dissipate, fully assimilating into the drink. A bad idea chews at the back of his head… The sound of ripping flesh once again knocks at Sodas head. He doesn’t look up this time, but he knew Emizel was just playing with his food again..  Did blood taste good to a vampire? Did some blood taste better than others? What did Sodas blood taste like? What did Emizels blood taste like? There's a visceral snap of something among the chewing and ripping, very clearly a bone or a joint snapping out of place. It made Soda shiver a little. When did his heart start pounding? There's an animal standing only 8 feet away from him, feeding on its kill. That animal is a person, and so is its kill. He wanted to know what vampire blood tasted like, but he already knew what human blood tasted like. It hung so densely in the air, he could feel it forming a vile film over his tongue. The blood of a person just like him. Eaten by an animal that eats people.  All this stress was no good. This bile rising to his throat was no good. This creeping anxiety was no good. He's friends with an animal that eats people. Would it eat him? This weird feeling was no good. Maybe it will never eat him. But it needs to eat people. This worry was no good. He needed to wash this awful taste from his mouth, replace it with something sweeter. He needed to keep his head clear enough to be there for Emizel when he needed to be. He needed to hold a light to these shadows. And he needed to stay positive, and drink soda. He takes a swig of the open Faygo bottle.

#NO MAIN TAGS WE DIE LIKE ROADKILL #WOW ISNT IT WEIRD THAT YOUR BESTEST FRIEND IN THE WHOOOLE WORLD EATS PEOPLE NOW #ISNT IT WEIRD THAT YOU KIND OF WISH YOU WOULD BE EATEN. EXCEPT NOT RLY BC U WOULD DIE. MAYBE HE COULD HAVE A NIBBLE #i might come back to ramble in the tags more later. STAY TUNED!!! #OKAY IM BACK TO RAMBLE. FIZZFAGS SEAL O APPROVAL IN THE TAGS U MEAN THE WWWOORRLLD TO MEEEE #THIS IS ALL YOUR FFAAAUULTT UR THE ONLY REASON THESE LOSERS ARE ROTATING IN MY BRAIN SO SO FAST #I DO INTEND TO WRITE MORE!! AND I DO INTEND TO LET IT GET WEIRDER #Iwanna make a lil chapter two w them hanging out at the funny intersection while soda maybe tries to patch emizel up. #wouldnt it be fucked up if u saw ur best friend get bled out n then sired right infront of u #and wouldnt it be fucked up if ina vampiric daze he almost sinks his crazy shark teeth into your throat #and wouldnt it be fucked up if you kinda wish he did. like not in a weird way or anything its not weird its not weird at all #RAAHH IM SO HAPPY THAT PPL LIKE MY WRITING STYLE N MY CHARACTERIZATIONS ASWELL IT MEANS SO MUCH TO MMEEEE #NICE WORDS GIVE ME SO MMUCH POOWWEERRRRR RAAGHGHHH!!!thank you guys for being so niceys to me #ive also been thinkin abt writing Post Suckening fics. EXCITED FOR SEASON TWO. in the meantime what if theo had to put up w shenanigens #one shenanigen for example being emizel going feral and attacking a comrade. #then theo needs to stake him n pull him aside n set him straight or something. set him gay. whatever. #ive also had an idea in my head. BC GABRIEL IS TOTALLY INSIDE OF EMIZELS BRAIN NOW #could u imagine doing acid or shrooms w ur homies n then suddenly ur nemesis is showing up in ur fractal hallucinations #anyway i think thats all da ramble i got in me. thanku for enjoying my writing thank yooouuu

[catboybiologist]

Random actual vent that is probably more venty than my usual random little things, but occasionally I have to step back and think how asinine the salary system for PhD students can sound to people outside of academia. I really just want to like... lay it on the table, because it really is fucking dumb and I occasionally want validation that its fucking dumb.

Note that this is all coming from a traditional lab sciences, in the US perspective. Also, I'm really fucking ADHD and have a really, really shitty brain for bureacracy, so this is a rant and isn't really intended to be informative and might be wrong in places, its just me word vomiting.

Let's start with something straight off the bat- grad school isn't really school. It's work that creates value for the university, and you happen to take one or two courses on the side that the university has determined will make you better at that work (your mileage may vary). It's an entry level job, essentially. You create value for the university in one of two ways- you either contribute to research that gets them grant money, or you teach undergrads that pay tuition. We'll get back to how that affects you later, but first lets talk about something else: what the university claims they pay you vs what you actually get paid.

On paper, my income is approximately 3 times as much as my actual, take home income. There's two reasons for this. The first is that I am technically charged tuition by the central university, which is then immediately paid off by the source of my income. In official job titles, that's technically included in what you're getting paid, although most universities don't even bother advertising that. The other confounding factor is that you're literally always considered part time. The exact % time varies depending on your exact schedule, and of course your university, but its actually weirdly consistent even between universities. Technically, the work you do on your thesis isn't "work", and the university doesn't technically pay you to do it. Even though the work you do on your thesis literally generates revenue for the university in the form of grant overhead. But we'll get to that. If you're a researcher for a given appointment term, you're expected to also do research activities that are unconnected to your thesis- which is ridiculous, because there's no lab in existence where the work isn't all interconnected in some way.

Half time appointments are common, but lots of different percentages exist.

So, if you ever see a figure that says that a grad student position is paid at about $80k a year, that's whats going on. The highest take-home income I have EVER heard of in the US for PhD students is $54k, at Stanford neuroscience. I think its a bit higher now, but that at least gets you a ballpark. Most STEM PhD students on the high cost of living coasts are paid 30-40k ish, and in cheaper areas you can expect to take 5k off of that. These are for degrees that usually make six figures on the job market.

And then there's the other convoluted problem- the source of the funding. This is where the academia salary model really has a unique brand.

Basically, when you're a PhD student, you're not working one job for the full 5-7 years. You're constantly flipping between job titles within the university, and who exactly is paying you changes as a result.

The most basic distinction is researcher vs teaching assistant. TA is easy- you work "part time" (but oh my god those workloads are not part time sometimes [although the class I'm TAing now is very chill so its w/e][fuck you molecular genetics at my master's uni tho]), and the department you're teaching for pays for your tuition and your salary as a result.

Researcher is a bit weirder. Basically, each lab is conducted as its own independent financial unit, managed by a Principle Investigator (PI, or to any grad student, the professor/boss/research advisor/liege/monarch/authority of the lab). The PI is constantly writing lab wide grants to supply the core funding of the lab, including the salary of the grad students. Grants can be pretty general, but there are also very specific ones that check in how the money is being spent. These include training grants/fellowships/tbh the name is arbitrary for a lot of these. Those are grants that are written to supply the salary of a specific grad student.

Couple things to note- the university charges the PI in a lot of ways on this. Notably:

They charge tuition on every grad student, as mentioned previously, which under a researcher appointment is paid from the PI to the university.

They charge overhead on grants- basically, they take money out of every grant the PI gets.

If the previous two sources aren't enough, oftentimes universities will pay rent on the amount of building space a lab takes up (although this is very inconsistent between universities)

Researcher appointments are considered favorable to teaching appointments, because they mean you can spend more of your time on your thesis. But, its dependent on whether your PI has the funding to pay you all that, which is a big if. So, every quarter or semester or year or however much your university decides to renegotiate it, you essentially switch jobs, in a way. Obviously its a lot more simple and streamlined than actually switching jobs, but your title, responsibility, source of income, and sometimes your actual pay changes constantly.

And to anyone who has been through a PhD, you're nodding along like this is all the basic stuff, because all this is so NORMAL. Like this is all the normal system, and this is the bare basics of it as well. And it's weird that it's normal, right? Like, most of my career has been tied to academia, so I don't have a fantastic benchmark for this, but this isn't how it works outside of academia like... at all.

Over the course of late last year and bleeding into this year, multiple graduate student unions have had strikes or negotiations regarding pay scale, but its been a very difficult situation for the average grad student to untangle because of how weird the source of pay is. Because technically, even though you functionally work a single, salaried job with slightly changing obligations, what's happening behind the scenes is that you're essentially hopping between jobs every couple of months. In an ideal system, those jobs always have the same pay, but that's increasingly becoming not the case. Sometimes that means getting paid more overall, sometimes slightly less. Union negotiations have made this pay slightly higher overall, but its still a mess of a system.

And obviously, there's paperwork associated with so many of these steps.

So in my last post, when I said "getting a grant", that was what I was referring to- applying for training grants that will guarantee that I don't have to teach extra or get extra money from my PI for the time I'm here. I'd love to get more teaching experience, but ofc I want to do it when I want to, not when I have to. I'm applying for multiple training grants over the next couple of months that will hopefully fund my salary specifically, and hopefully I'll get at least one of them. And tbh, I don't even care that much about teaching, I more want them because it'll dramatically simplify all this for me.

I love what I do to death, but untangling this shit is what gives me imposter syndrome more than anything. I think my arrogant streak shows when I can genuinely say that I've never felt imposter syndrome based on my scientific knowledge. I have felt it over two things- my motivation/productivity (which is a different rant entirely), and the fact that I am really, really bad at untangling the level of bureaucracy required to just... exist here. Just give me my fucking paycheck and let me do my science, and tell me when you want me to teach.

#vent post #like an actual one lol

[deaf-solitude]

Bloodsucker Pt. 2 (Vampire!Frenchie x GN!Reader)

Takes place post-season 1, pre-season 2 once again!

Pairing: Vampire!Frenchie x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Blood, death, detailed violence, vampire feeding, fluff???, they’re goofy your honour

((Oh my god I’m SO sorry for how long I’ve been gone, writer's block hit me like a mf but I’M FINALLY BACK!! Back with pt 2 of the vampire!Frenchie fic B). I took some liberties on the mechanics/weaknesses of vampires in this part (i.e. they can go out in the sun (but are prone to sunburns), how they act when they haven’t been able to feed in a while, etc), which I hope doesn’t screw up anything too much. If anyone would like an explanation of how vampires work in this AU, lmk and I’ll make a more detailed post about it. Also this came out a lot more platonic than i intended I’m so sorry lol. ALSO ALSO i probably wont write a part 3 unless it’s explicitly asked for, and if you guys do want a pt 3, let me know what you’d like to see in it and maybe i'll get around to it :D anyway, enjoy!))

To say you were now incredibly worried was an understatement.

Over the few days since the whole vampire accusation, things had only looked worse and worse for Frenchie. The opportunities to feed on bodies after raids were practically nonexistent because of the newly implemented rules and the crew had gotten annoyingly creative in their attempts to “ward off” the suspected vampire among them. You were afraid you were never going to be able to get the smell of garlic out of your nose after this all blew over since they had been hanging up bulbs and cloves everywhere you could imagine; you had even found a bulb stashed away in the storage closet you usually napped in, which you were quick to throw out of the nearest porthole.

Despite the crew’s valiant efforts, Frenchie had informed you that garlic didn’t actually repel vampires, but it did cause what you chalked up to be a minor allergic reaction in them. This was good news since Jim had forced every person on the ship to eat a raw clove shortly after the initial incident. You were never fond of garlic, so the experience was less than pleasant, but having to deal with a bleary-eyed and runny-nosed Frenchie afterward might’ve been worse.

But what really had you worried was the raids. Blackbeard’s strict schedule of at least one raid per day didn’t let up in the slightest with the discovery of a vampire on board, and as time went on, you noticed Frenchie acting… weirder than normal.

The exhaustion came first, which was one of the symptoms you expected from him not being able to feed. It started with him getting more tired than usual as the day went on, and then taking longer to wake up in the mornings. Next thing you knew, he started joining you on your cat naps in the closet, where you’d have to practically drag him out while he was still half asleep to avoid getting caught. Now, even in the middle of the day, he fought to keep his eyes open, and you had often caught him falling asleep standing up while leaning against a post.

Then there was the weakness. You had never been a particularly strong person before being forced into Blackbeard’s crew, but you knew Frenchie was at least a bit stronger than you due to his height. He had always been able to handle larger crates of treasure easily with the help of Jim, but now he could hardly keep himself on two feet, let alone transport cargo. There were several times when you’d send Frenchie down with a crate, you’d hear a loud clunk shortly after, and when you rushed down to check on him, the crate would be tipped over on the floor with Frenchie standing out of breath next to it and complaining that his arms hurt. It was even easier to tackle and drag him around now since he had little strength to pull away.

This didn’t prove useful in raids, both for his well-being and your mental health.

You had practically adopted the role of his bodyguard, having to save his ass from combatants on multiple occasions. In one particular instance, the raid had started fine. Sure, Frenchie was a bit drowsy, but it was nothing too concerning to you at the time. A few minutes later you were desperately trying to yank an enraged man off of Frenchie, who was pinned underneath him and screaming for you to do something. Jim eventually stomped over and repeatedly stabbed the attacker in the back, causing him to crumple over right on top of Frenchie. After Jim quickly returned to their combat, you then spent another minute trying to haul the now dead man off of Frenchie, who could barely lift the body an inch off of his chest.

Today, you decided to keep a keener eye on your companion as you boarded a new ship. While Blackbeard did his usual drawn-out and dramatic entrance, you were already watching Frenchie out of the corner of your eye, who was standing beside you. Well, standing the best he could. He was swaying slightly in place, his eyes repeatedly fluttering shut and jolting open again once he realized they had closed. You bit your cheek and turned your attention back to Blackbeard. He was fucked.

It wasn’t long before Blackbeard finished his spiel and the crew leapt into action, eager to slaughter any adversary they could get their hands on. You took a breath to try and calm your nerves before lightly slapping Frenchie on the back in an attempt to wake him up a bit more, rushing forward to join your crewmates soon after. He jumped at the contact and swivelled his head to see who had hit him, when he very suddenly realized that they were, in fact, in the middle of raiding a ship. He cursed under his breath before sluggishly following after you, clumsily setting up his “claws” in his hands.

As blood started to spill, you saw Frenchie perk up, whirling around to stare at a man who had just recently been felled by Fang. What he failed to notice was another man coming up behind him, sword drawn and ready to strike. You were quick to cross the deck towards the two, slicing a gash into the man’s chest without hesitation before turning to Frenchie. He was about to lunge for the body when you caught the scruff of his jacket, yanking him back. “Are you fuckin’ mental?” You hissed, struggling to keep Frenchie in place.

“Wh-huh? No, no, I’m good,” he slurred, his eyes locked onto the body as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. You groaned, slapping his face lightly. That caught his attention and his head snapped back to look at you with a glare. You paid the nasty look no mind, pulling Frenchie slightly closer to you as your face darkened with annoyance.

“Behave,” you growled before letting go of his jacket to twirl around and deflect an oncoming sword with your own. Frenchie rolled his eyes, mumbling something about how he wasn’t a dog and that he could control himself, gracelessly lunging at another poor sailor soon after.

You had just knocked the sword out of your opponent's hand when you heard the tear of flesh and the choked scream that could only be accredited to Frenchie’s handy work. When you turned around to check on him, he was salivating above the bleeding man with wide, unfocused eyes. He almost got a bite in had you not immediately abandoned your own scuffle to drag him away from the dying man once again.

The raid turned into one big game of keep away between you and Frenchie, much to your dismay. You’d turn your back on him for a second to focus on not being killed, and when you looked back at him a moment later, he’d be hovering over another dead or dying body that you inevitably had to yank him back from, and the process would repeat. You were starting to worry that it looked far too suspicious to be normal, but not much was normal about the crew anyway with the way they ripped apart seamen and pirates alike.

Speaking of, the crew had torn this ship’s crew to shreds in record time, and soon everyone was standing in piles of blood, guts, and gore of their own making. Not a single soul was left alive aboard that ship.

You stopped your fretting over Frenchie for a second as you took in the sight of both the countless bodies that littered the bloodied deck, and the numb faces of your crewmates. Your heart sunk in your chest for a brief moment; the crew couldn’t keep doing this for much longer. The heavy footsteps of Blackbeard spurred you from your grief, instinctively yanking Frenchie back to your side after he had tried (and failed) to sneak over to another body.

Blackbeard’s cold gaze studied the crew, tilting his head slightly before speaking: “Alright, collect the plunder and let’s move on, lads.” His nonchalant voice cut through the melancholy mood of the crew like a hot knife, everyone flinching slightly before being quickly propelled into action. You huffed as you watched Blackbeard retreat to the confines of the Revenge, slowly turning to look at Frenchie with an agitated glare. He faltered under your gaze, taking on the expression and posture of a kicked puppy.

“You owe me big time,” you grumbled, poking an accusing finger into Frenchie’s chest. Before he could get a single apology or excuse in, you practically dragged Frenchie–who had started frequently stumbling as he walked–off of the raided ship and onto the Revenge. Despite your annoyance, you were quick to offer your support to him, letting him lean on you as the two of you trudged off that damned ship. He had protested, saying that you two had to haul treasure, but you knew he’d drop it anyway and kept walking.

It was hard to stay mad at Frenchie, it really was. The longer you walked in silence, the more guilty you felt about the whole situation.

You brought him down to his room and sat him on the bed, eying him warily as he flopped over onto the mattress and groggily blinked up at the ceiling. “So what exactly happens if you don’t drink blood for a long time?” You started, nervously wringing your hands out as you sat on the other end of the bed.

“Umm, I d-don’t know for sure,” he muttered, his head lolling from side to side as he struggled to keep himself awake, “I th-think I dry up and die or something.” You weren’t sure about the dying part, but you had noticed his cheeks becoming increasingly hollow over the past couple of days.

Again, you couldn’t help but feel like this was your fault. If you had just ignored that stupid gap in the wall, the crew never would have found out. You sighed, bouncing your knee nervously as you thought of what to do.

…Well, you did have an idea in mind, but you weren’t sure about going through with it.

Your mouth started moving on its own before you could really think the idea through: “What if I…” you paused, biting your lip with uncertainty. When Frenchie looked up at you with big eyes and that stupid pout, you knew you’d lost.

“What if I let you… feed on me?” You mumbled, your words hardly above a whisper, but Frenchie heard them loud and clear. He nearly jumped you, actually, taking hold of your shoulders and leaning forward with dizzying speed.

“Really? Like right now?” He exclaimed suddenly, sounding more energetic than he had in days. You grimaced, averting your gaze before sighing in defeat.

“I suppose. Can’t have my napping buddy shrivelling up on me now, can I?” You joked nervously, but it went right over Frenchie’s head as he grinned brightly.

“Oh my God, you’re the best!” He praised, engulfing you in a tight embrace. You wheezed, patting his back with a strained smile on your face.

“Yep. No problem,” you huffed, struggling to breathe, “just, uh, give me a sec to gather myself, yeah?” Frenchie nodded, willing to go along with anything to let him feed on you at this point. You sighed heavily, scooting backwards on the bed and leaning up against the wall, unbuttoning a few of your shirt’s top buttons to expose more of your shoulder.

“N-nothing too obvious, okay? Below the neck, preferably,” you stammered, watching warily as Frenchie practically foamed at the mouth. You straightened your back slightly, your fingers digging nervously into the tattered sheets of Frenchie’s bed as he slowly crawled on after you. It was… extremely creepy, with the way his eyes were blown wide and his lethargic movements mimicking that of a cat stalking its prey.

“Yeah, yep, ‘course,” he replied mindlessly, drawing closer and closer to you. He positioned himself dangerously close to the junction between your neck and shoulder, his warm breath fanning against your skin sending a shiver up your spine.

“How much do you think this is gonna hurt?” You questioned to give yourself a distraction, unable to stop yourself from shaking as Frenchie grabbed your shoulders to keep you still. You figured the answer was obvious, but maybe you were overestimating how painful it would be in your mind.

“A lot,” Frenchie stated bluntly before suddenly sinking his fangs into the flesh between your neck and shoulder.

You were not overestimating it.

If anything, you were severely underestimating how much it would hurt, and Frenchie’s blunt statement did nothing to describe the pain you felt.

You had to stop yourself from screaming, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth after a sharp inhale. It felt like two giant needles had just been stabbed into your shoulder, stinging like hell and almost making you queasy enough to pass out. Despite that, you clung to your consciousness, fighting to keep yourself quiet as Frenchie started to drink your blood properly. A cold creeping feeling crawled its way down your spine from your shoulder: it was excruciatingly painful and uncomfortable as you got colder and colder, but you held out for Frenchie’s sake.

Speaking of Frenchie, you couldn’t help but notice how incredibly… intimate this seemed on his part. Forget the location of the bite, Frenchie was making some questionable noises and hums as he continued to feed on you, pushing his body against yours and feverishly grasping at the other side of your neck. You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes roll back, but it was difficult to tell from this angle.

Before you could ponder that thought any longer, you started to get woozy, feeling unnaturally cold. “Frenchie,” you whined weakly, attempting to gently nudge him away. He didn’t budge, pressing himself against you further. You sighed, and with the little strength you had left, pushed against him with all your might. “Frenchie, get off!” You hissed, finally spurring him out of his daze as his fangs withdrew from your flesh. He stumbled backwards from the force, but managed to land on his feet as he was shoved off of the bed.

His breathing was heavy as he stared at you for a few seconds, his mouth parted slightly and his pupils still blown wide. It took a moment for him to process your sorry state before his skittish demeanor returned, gulping in what seemed like awe as he dragged his hands down the back of his neck to try and ground himself. He wasn’t really sure what to do now; usually his “meals” were already dead or dying. Not sure if he should move closer to you again, he could only quietly apologize: “S-sorry, sorry. God, that was…”

“Good?” You heaved, bracing yourself with your hands against your knees while your head was bowed in exhaustion. You stared up at Frenchie through bleary eyes, who had your blood smeared all over his face, looking very pleased with himself because of it.

“Oh, better than good. I haven’t had fresh blood in ages, and yours tasted heavenly.” Frenchie marveled, freezing after his unintentional hushed statement as he stared at you with wide eyes. You did unfortunately hear him, raising a brow at his mortified expression while your lips quirked into a small, teasing smile. His face flushed but he didn’t comment any further on the notion, looking away as his tongue darted out to nervously lick away some of the blood still left on his lips.

Before you could unpack all of that, a splitting migraine invaded your skull, causing your vision to go blurry as you made a strained sound of pain. You tried to hold yourself upright, but you could feel yourself quickly tipping forward from the sudden wave of dizziness that hit you.

Before you could fall far, Frenchie had swiftly caught you in his arms with a concerned cry of your name. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ, I haven’t killed you, have I?” You could faintly hear as you clung to your consciousness, trying your best to right yourself to no avail. You could feel yourself being gently picked up and moved slightly, and then placed back down on a soft surface.

“Fuck, fuck, I’ve killed them. What am I gonna tell the crew? Where am I gonna hide the body?” You could hear Frenchie fretting, the guilt finally kicking in for him. You groaned hearing his outlandish thoughts spoken aloud, weakly reaching your hand in his direction.

“I’m not dead, you fucker,” you croaked, trying to blink your heavy eyelids open.

You could hear Frenchie gasp, and a sound that vaguely sounded like something falling to the floor beside you. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what came over me! I-I got carried away,” he apologized profusely, taking one of your hands in both of his own like you were on your deathbed. You snorted softly, a wobbly smile spreading across your face at the action.

“Relax. I don’t think you could kill me if you tried,” you teased in a weak voice, finally managing to get your eyes open to give him a look. You had expected him to be standing above you, but after a second of your eyes searching the room, you found that he had kneeled down on the floor next to the bed. You had to stop yourself from bursting into laughter at the sight.

Frenchie’s face scrunched up in confusion at your comment before a look of confusion and slight offence overtook it. “What the fuck’s that s’posed to mean? And why are you… giggling?” You managed to laugh weakly at his reaction as you turned your head away, bringing a small smile to Frenchie’s face in the process.

“N-nothing, it’s-” you cut yourself off with more hushed laughter as you looked at him again, bringing your free hand up to cover your mouth in an attempt to stifle your outburst.

“Is it because I’m kneeling? Because I’m worried that I killed my closest friend?” Frenchie taunted, though it was obvious that his words were all playful by the huge grin that spread across his face. You couldn’t stop laughing as he continued to speak, turning away from him to try and hide your face. You had no coherent answer for him, and that only encouraged Frenchie’s teasing.

“Wow. I just… this is unbelievable. I never thought you’d stoop so low, laughing at my… my concern for you,” he snarked, putting a hand on his chest in mock offence.

“Stop, stop! God, it hurts,” you exclaimed through strained giggles, clutching your stomach in pain with a wide grin on your face as your constant laughter started to give you a cramp.

Frenchie hadn’t taken your exclamation the right way initially, thinking that he actually did something to hurt you. His expression dropped almost immediately, trying to figure out what he had done as he started to withdraw his hand from yours. “O-oh, I-”

You were just as quick to snatch his hand back up when you noticed that he had started to pull away, nearly gasping as you did so. “N-no, no! You’re fine, Frenchie. It just hurts to laugh so much,” you explained hastily with a warm smile, easing his concerns.

It had been so long since you’d laughed that hard.

Frenchie’s face lit up with relief, and then quickly turned red with embarrassment. He smiled sheepishly, quite thankful that you had kept his hand in yours as he gave yours a soft squeeze. “Ah, right…”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you laid on his bed, your eyes drifting down to where your hands interlocked. You had taken to idly running your thumb over Frenchie’s knuckles, a soothing gesture that you were focused on.

“B-but seriously; thank you. I, uhm… I needed that.” He mumbled, watching you run your thumbs over his knuckles with a soft expression.

“Yeah, clearly. I mean, fuck, do I even need to mention what just took place during the raid?” You ragged, playfully rolling your eyes as the lightheadedness slowly dissipated from your body. You sat up slowly with Frenchie’s help, hissing quietly as the puncture wounds on between your neck and shoulder were jostled.

Frenchie scoffed exasperatedly, slapping your arm lightly as a light blush spread across his face again. “Will you shut up? It wasn’t that bad.”

You gave Frenchie an unimpressed look, raising your eyebrows. You opened your mouth to rebuke him, but he was quick to shush you before a single sound could come from you.

“I don’t need you to recount it, thank you.”

You laughed again, hesitantly cupping one side of Frenchie’s face with your hand, who was still kneeling on the floor. “You're welcome,” you smiled, pressing a quick kiss to Frenchie’s forehead. He blinked in surprise, inhaling sharply at the soft gesture of affection. A conflicted expression crossed his face as he looked up at you with wide eyes.

”Why… why are you doing this for me, anyways?” He questioned quietly, pouting slightly. You pursed your lips, not exactly sure why you were going to such lengths for him in the first place; you had barely known him for more than a few months, and yet here you were, risking your life for him.

”…Because you’re my friend, and that’s what friends do,” you answered hesitantly, still not totally confident in your reasoning.

Frenchie seemed to catch onto this, looking amused as he raised a brow at you: “Yeah, because normal people are always letting their vampire friends feed on them.”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Shut up. I just care about you, okay? Is that illegal now? Am I going to be arrested?” You argued playfully, rolling your eyes.

Frenchie chuckled, still not quite content with your answer. “You care about a vampire? A monster?”

”I do. Shoot me,” you snapped sarcastically, choosing not to comment on his monster classification just yet. That seemed like a completely different problem to unpack, and you were too exhausted—both physically and mentally—to properly address it just yet.

Frenchie barked out another laugh, finally dragging himself off of the floor to sit next to you on the bed. “Okay, whatever you say, you weirdo,” he finally caved, dropping the subject for now. You snorted at his name calling, shaking your head with a smile.

Frenchie’s eyes drifted back to the puncture wounds at the base of your neck, wincing at how deep they were. They weren’t bleeding, but there was blood smeared around the area from how hurriedly he was feeding. Heat rose to his face again at the thought, but he quickly tried to distract himself from it by getting up to get a rag and some bandages.

”Let’s get you patched up, yeah?” He smiled bashfully at you, nervously wiping at his mouth again in case there was any blood left behind. You chuckled at the gesture, bringing your legs up onto the bed to sit criss crossed.

”That’d be appreciated, yes.”

#ofmd #our flag means death #frenchie ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2 #joel fry #ofmd x reader #jim jimenez #frenchie x reader #frenchie ofmd x reader #frenchie #blackbeard #Blackbeard ofmd #ed teach #our flag means death season 2 #fanfic #x reader #Izzy hands #vampire au #vampire #vampire!frenchie

[yourantag]

Morningstar and Fun Facts

AN: Hello fellow Ithaqua simps. Apologies for the long radio silence, college was kinda brutal. I've been wanting to draw something for "Of Vices and Virtues" for a while, but couldn't find the motivation. So, after many months and getting through finals, I offer you this! ...and some fun facts for my previously posted fics. No one asked for them, but I figured it'll be a good way to organize a mini masterlist until I finally gather the motivation to make the official one. Whether you're new here or not, I hope you enjoy!

"Of Vices and Virtues" Fun Facts:

The concept of shadows and light representing vices and virtues, good and evil, was literally just made up on the spot as an excuse as to why the reader is so intrigued by pre-snap Morningstar

I kinda had to get rid of reader's parents somehow to further get across the point of Helel being all you have just as you are all he has, so I made them traitors lol

But also, the sweet sweet taste of betrayal is always worse when it's from the people you trusted the most

Reader's parents were the ones to snitch on Morningstar's mom since they believed she was using witchcraft on you

They just wanted to protect you as you were slowly acting weirder and weirder the more time you spent in the forest

Naturally, the first person they blamed was the lady who everyone already kinda thought was a witch

Really, it's just that your curiosity led to you being enraptured by others "true" selves, warping and twisting your views on people, including yourself

That being said, your light and Helel's shadows being irregular ends up implying that the shadows and light you see never fully expressed whether a person was really "good" or "bad," just as the world is never black and white

Were you always insane? Or was it your abilities that drove you mad? Or perhaps your reliance on said abilities was what brought you to your downfall?

Regardless of what conclusion you come too, I hope it was fun

"Apricity" and "Zephyr" Fun Facts:

I actually only wrote Apricity since a friend said there wasn't enough Ithaqua fics

Legit I didn't feel like writing another fanfic ever again since my first one (I still get nightmares of it every night)

I never intended for Zephyr to exist, but I really wanted to show that one, you aren't an oblivious idiot, and two, you only got that one on one match because you specifically asked for it, worked for it, because you were willing to try and keep him in your life instead of letting him slip away

Because I wrote Zephyr after Apricity, Zephyr built on and sometimes conflicted with Apricity, which led to me straight up having to go back through it at least two hundred times

Despite that, I've kinda already forgotten what happened in both fics 💀

"Sweetest Thing" Fun Facts:

Currently the one and only non-Ithaqua fanfic I have (hint hint)

Another fic for another friend, and honestly I had a blast writing it

More people need to write for the ladies cause I don't see them enough >:[

This idea ended up coming from a random prompt generator that threw at me "royal" and "baking cookies together"

It's extremely attractive when someone tries to cook for you, especially when they aren't good because it shows they care and want you to know they care even though they aren't confident in themself

Their love for you overpowers their fear of failure and the unknown

And failing then trying to do it together is also super sweet

I might end up doing this prompt again but with Ithaqua at some point

(Morningstar accidentally making bread instead of cake or a salty scone instead of a cookie sounds fun too)

("Is that a scone dusted in salt???" "...I was trying to make sugar cookies.")

"New Beginnings" Fun Facts:

I hate this fic with a burning passion

I put too many ideas in and described too much

Literally I think this is the worst fic I've posted thus far

It was meant to show a world where Ithaqua and Nathaniel are happy siblings, then go into the romance bit with the reader and be all sweet and sappy

This fic made me understand why writers start killing off characters out of nowhere

HOW DO YOU ONLY WRITE FLUFF???

Let me just sprinkle in a little angst,,, just a little...

Half considered shooting Nathaniel mid fic for fun/hj

In conclusion, I'm never writing a fic with more than one central idea ever again

"Mercy" Fun Facts:

Well, first and foremost, the fact that it has a title at all is probably a surprise

Yes, it does have a title, but no, I'll never actually put it there in the post

It doesn't look nice when I do :<

I should probably try and format my posts differently-

It was honestly pretty difficult to write this since I had never gotten a request before and didn't know how to do it

I think in the end, it turned out pretty decent

I hope to get better at writing requests in the future since they make me happy

The prompt actually made me realize that duo hunters is basically a goldmine of opportunities

Jealousy, betrayal, character dynamics, and other things are so much easier to do when you're in the perfect setting for it

"Paper Stars" and "Glass Heart" Fun Facts:

This idea started when I saw a reel on Instagram about this person who made a bunch of paper stars

I've always thought it was cool, and then I remembered the little legend and was like "mmm yes angst"

It was a new flavor too! Unrequited love instead of self sabotage

Oh wait actually it's self sabotage in a trench coat and a hat

Well, technically both since you didn't know that your love wasn't unrequited 

This duo fic was actually gonna be a trio fic with the last one being happy

But I think I like the amount of emotional damage I've inflicted with Glass Heart

(If requested though I'll finish writing the third part)

(It's called Velvet Moon)

I actually never had a chance to add this in, but later on, Ithaqua finds out that those who remained in the manor never had to participate in matches again, so his sacrifice was for nothing

No I am not sorry

#idv #identity v #identity 5 #idv ithaqua #idv fanart #identity v fanart

[linaselandbasil]

The Bottom Of A Bottomless Mimosa-Valkyon/Ykhar

It's been a while since I started writing and I'm happy to announce, it is here, it is finished, you can read it!

It gets a little bit weird, but I think it's okay. There's weirder. After I was done editing, it ended up being 5800 something words, so it's long. I intended it to be long as hell, because come on, it's Valkyon!

The full work is below the cut if you don't like clicking on links.

Have fun reading~

Ykhar was a wee bit tipsy. She stumbled after Valkyon, who seemed to always be strutting like he's on the catwalk. She was a little confused when they didn't go towards HQ, but she quickly realized what Valkyon meant by 'his place'.

Kassvin's house.

This made her feel so dirty. Like a homewrecker.... She... likes it, actually! She rarely does adventurous things like this nowadays, but she certainly wouldn't mind. She wouldn't mind being.... Like Valkyon.

She's so obsessed with him.

The door opened with a deafening creak and they stepped into the dark foyer.

"Does Kassvin mind?"

"He doesn't. But don't tell him we did it in his bed." He stripped his cloak off and looked at her. "Take your shoes off, he doesn't like it when we track dirt in."

She took the red shawl off and put it on the hanger. Valkyon was a watching her like a hawk. His smoky eyeshadow was a tiny bit smudged from their earlier kisses.

She could feel her legs getting weaker already...

She bunched her dress up as they went upstairs, the hem was long enough that she could trip on it and going to the infirmary would be an embarrassing end to their one night stand.

The bed wasn't made.... the blankets that Kassvin slept in just this morning were strewn about. Valkyon you whoooore! YOu WHorE!

Ykhar unbuttoned her bodice and threw it to the side. The dress was now lose around her frame and Valkyon pulled it over her head in one go. She had a shift on underneath, slightly tinted blue from a disastrous blueing incident.

Valkyon was quick to push her on the mattress. He let her watch as he took his crop top off... He had a bunch of jewels on too because he's a crow. He likes shiny stuff.

"Hey... " He said. "Are you alright?"

"I'm alright. Are you?"

"Yeah... do I look not alright?"

"You look tense."

"You look straight up scared."

"Im a little scared. I kind of have a huge crush on you." He laughed and undid his belt. "And this is your boyfriends house."

He smirked. "What about it?"

She blushed. "Nothing..."

"It doesn't seem like it's nothing. Enjoyin' it I hope?"

"Very much." She watched him undress. He took his jewels off one by one and put them on a chair that Kassvin endearingly dubbed 'the nightsit'......

Damn it, that's so funny.

Valkyon used to think Ykhar was the most adorable thing ever to exist. He tends to find people like her attractive and she tends to find people like him attractive so it's obvious that they ended up together.

He held her chin up and kissed her, slowly and tenderly. He's tipsy, and when he's tipsy he gets all soft.... Or is he always soft? Probably. He could go a little more rough though.

"I'm not made of sugar."

"Why so sweet, then?" She chuckled and pulled his other hand closer, into her hair. She's acting all coquetteish.

"You know what I like." He smiled.

"Mhm." He sat down on the mattress and she crawled right into his lap. Valkyon's lips quickly found hers and he kissed her until her skin was flushed red. His hand held the back of her head, fingers buried in her hair. The smooth bastard slid his hands right under her shift, caressing her thigh.

She reached down, palm sliding across his strong abdomen and coming to a halt at the hem of his underwear. He pulled her back by her hair and looked at her.

"Really? So impatient." She giggled as he took her hand and kissed it. "We got all night."

"Soo-reee!" She said, snaking her arms around his neck and scooting closer. She rode one of his thighs, grinding down just right. "Mmh~"

He wrapped her up in his arms, smelling her neck. Cigarette smoke and floral perfume. The usual after being in a bar all night.

Oh? Wouldn't you believe, she also smells like Lance. That slut, he's almost as bad as Valkyon.

He kissed her until she was dizzy then let his hands explore. They traveled far and wide, to her back, her stomach, her breasts and her neck, then they mysteriously found their way right back under her shift. The way his warm, calloused palm traced it's way up and down sent shivers and goosebumps all over her body.

The warm buzz of his charm made her want to just lay down and let him have anything of hers. She pulled her shift off, even as the cold pricked icy needles into her skin. It's worth it, his skin will warm her through in no time.

Her strawberry lip gloss was all gone with the wind by now. She moaned and whined as he inched his hand down between her legs. He was slow but oh so precise. He remembers exactly how she likes it. She wrapped her legs around his waist to give a better vantage to his hand. He's very welcome in there.

After all, he knows exactly how she wants it.

Feathery caresses at first, and ummm.... You know. Bed breaking later.

She couldn't keep her hands to herself, she just had to try again. She reached down once again and this time he let her get into his underwear without a word.

Her fingers raked through the silver hair, looking for his massive choking hazard of a monster cock. She found it, wrapped her tiny hand around it and enjoyed the barely audible grunt that came from the amber eyed beauty.

He stroked her through the light fabric of her panties before reaching underneath and dipping one just barely into the warmth of her. She gasped, which made Valkyon want to mess with her. He needed to hear that again.

"Nghh~" He pulled his hand away, grabbed her thighs and turned her around. A little bit forceful, but Ykhar quite literally wants to be beaten up in bed like a pro wrestler, so it's quite alright. It's always the girls with short nails who's the freaks.

She sat astride his thigh once again, leaning into his chest and enjoying the embrace.

"See that mirror over there?" He asked, whispering in her twitching ear. He kissed her scalp just behind it, giving her goosebumps all over her pale body.

"Yes."

"Look how beautiful you are. You could have anyone, yet you only want me. Get over me." She burst out laughing because that sounds quite silly while hes preparing to fuck her into tge sunrise. She quieted down when he started rocking her back and forth. The friction was just perfect, and it didn't fail to remind her that she should be trying to stay in his good graces.

"Yet here we are."

"You're not special to me anymore, but you could be to someone." Ouch.

"Vaaaal! That's mean!" He chuckled, sliding a hand down to rest on her belly, inching downward at a torturous pace. She felt her cheeks burn. Her heart ran wild like a frightened deer.

"You know what's mean? You also smell like Lansegra." He pressed his nose into her hair, breathing in. "You're still fucking my brother."

She was honestly speechless, but Valkyon didn't seem too turned off by that, so she wasn't going to deny anything. It was absolutely turning her on though. "I'm sorry." She managed with a trembling voice.

"I know you aren't.... But you can make up for it if you're pretending to be sorry." He then reached into her panties and resumed working her open. She could feel his hard dick poking her thigh as she helplessly dangled her leg off of the side of the bed. She was holding onto his hair, reaching behind herself as she was fingered exactly the way she liked.

Her panties were soaked, she was moaning loudly. He hooked his free arm under her knee and hoisted her up to have a better look at her in their reflection. "Look at you." His tone was teasing, a bit playful. "A bigger whore than I am."

"I'm sorry! Please!"

"For what?" He kissed her neck. "For fucking my brother again? You do whatever you want, i don't care anymore."

"Im- I-"

"Or for getting railed by me on my boyfriends bed? Is that what you're sorry for? He'll live." He kept kissing her neck and shoulders, smirking devilishly every time their eyes met in the mirror.

"Mmh! Faster!" Oh how it pleased him to hear that. He obliged, letting her squirm in his arms until she came. He felt her squeeze his two fingers while he kept fingering her through the best 8 seconds of her day. Best 8 seconds so far.

He chuckled, looking at her face in the mirror. He lifted his finger to her mouth and stuck it in. "Clean it." She sucked, putting her tounge between the two fingers and getting her mess off with maximum efficiency. Again, she's a freak. She has had plenty of practice, her methods are next level.

"You've got the nerve to walk around in his shawl? What if someone realized it was his?" Valkyon finally spoke, forcing her to face the mirror with his still wet hand.

"Your brothers shawl?"

"Obviously, dumbass." He smiled as he said that. She's into degradation, don't worry.

"It was so cold! I'm sorry!"

"Hmm. Don't worry about it. Now that you know how stupid it was, you won't repeat it." He ruffled her hair before taking a fistful and pulling on it lightly.

"Hmm~" She gave him a long look. "More."

"Dont worry, I wasn't gonna stop now." She chuckled. She stood up and pushed him on his back. She hastily shimmied out of her panties, which Valkyon just noticed they had little heart shaped carrots on them! So fucking cute. He scooted backwards and got comfortable looking at her naked form in the dim light of the moon. "You're excited, it seems."

"You're like if crack cocain was a person." She climbed on top of him, knees on either side of his hips. She looked down at him. "I need more, I'm begging you!"

He smiled. "Tell me, what do you want?" He had his hands under his head to prop it up.

"Mmmmmm." Her grey eyes traveled from his glowing amber ones, all across his scarred neck and abdomen and finally down to his- "Dick."

His brash grin never faltered as he snapped his fingers to ignite the lantern by the bed. "This lighting suits you."

She was hungrily starting at his member, barely hearing him over her aggressively vivid imagination. She wanted to cry from pleasure, to be filled to the brim with him. She wanted to choke on all he had... Just like in the good old days. "Do you still know that ward spell?"

He scoffed. "Yes, I'm still using it pretty often." You see, a condom is basically a penis shaped ward. Valkyon saves fortunes by using a modified combat shield spell instead of buying overpriced boxes if them bitches just to not spread herpes like a witcher.

He did his thing, conjuring the thinnest ward imaginable and putting it on his little guy. Little is a relative term.

She gasped. "Aaaw, he's going to battle in his little armor! Cute!" He was normally a patient man, but he's getting to the end of his rope.

"Ykhar."

"Yes??" She looked like a deer in headlights. "Oh I'm so sorry!"

He laughed at her as she somewhat clumsily lined the soldier up and sent it to the trenches in one go. She moaned and took his hand in hers. He reached up and firmly gripped her thighs to keep her from falling. She had other ideas and took his hands and placed them on her breasts.

"Val... I feel guilty." She shifted side to side, enjoying the initial stretch, feeling every last bit of it all up in her. The feeling was so strange, like nothing else. Like something cold in her veins raced back and forth through her guts, like a lightning bolt of goodness bloomed in her.

"For fucking my brother?"

"For doing this to Kass." He smirked and thrust his hip up. Her surprised yelp mixed with a whine of pleasure.

"You like it." He pinched.

"I do." She slowly went up, enjoying the way it slid out of her. She's so damn wet. This man is a coochie wizard.

He went to grab her hips and pull her back down. He groaned, feeling so relieved that he's finally getting some attention. She was enjoying it as much as him, judging by how fast she was trying to go. She bounced up and down with his hands keeping her from falling.

But lets not forget that she's not in peak physical prowess.

"Vaalll! My legs are sore!" He wasted no time flipping over and pinning her to the soft mattress. She giggled, admiring him from below as he realigned himself and thrust in. "Ah! Go hard~" He scoffed, then he threw her legs up on one of his shoulders and fucked her so hard the bed started moving with them.

Good thing Kassvin has no neighbors.

Ykhar gripped the sheets, knuckles white. Her moans were almost screams, each of them making her throat hurt a little.

He kept going, relentless, merciless and so fast. Just like she wanted. Her eyes began to water from all her emotions. She was feeling a lot and she was feeling them strong. He leaned his weight on his legs and slowed down.

"Yo-

"Keep GOING!" She yelled, and Valkyon did exactly that. He resumed his rough pace, ramming into her and fucking her through her tears.

"You worry me."

"Shut up! Keep doing this, I need this!"

"Alright sweetheart." He emptied his mind, robotically railing her into oblivion. He's so turned on, but he has to wait. He has to be patient. The guest goes first. He thought about Kassvin. He fucked the little human just like this, only.... Kassvin didn't want to be destroyed quite this much.

He came apart like a braid without a tie, the warrior had touched every inch of him and found all the buttons he could press to turn his little prince into a mess.

The best part was probably the story he told Valkyon about how he found out that he didn't have a gag reflex. That was his favorite part because the little blavian followed it up with a demonstration.

Hmm, he should make Ykhar do that too. She's magnitudes better at it than anyone he's ever laid with.

"Val! Ah!" He looked down and found her face beautifully red, her teary eyes fixed on him. "I'm! I'm-" Cumming. She squeezed her eyes shut, falling silent as a very happy teardrop rolled down her temple. He kept going at the exact same pace to let her enjoy it to the fullest. Another amazing 8 seconds. "Valkyon. Thank you." Her chest rose with her labored breaths. She went limp underneath him.

"You can show me how thankful you are, just rest a bit." He has a beautiful rough voice to match his beautiful rough everything. Ykhar felt the sound of him rumble through her neck as he spoke. She whined as he pulled out, missing it already.

"Give me a minute...." She sat up. "I'm dizzy."

"I would offer you some water, but I can't climb the stairs with this thing, it would hit the steps and that hurts." She giggled so hard she almost rolled down the side of the bed.

"I can certainly help you with that, good sire~" She scooted over and brushed her hair out of her face. She opened wide and swallowed the thing whole like it was a magic trick in a circus. The warmth of her body embraced him once again, and he almost thrust up into her throat. She must have noticed because she looked up through her still wet eyelashes and puffy eyes and pulled off of him.

"Get to work." She blushed, a tinge of arousal coursing through her.

"I'm sorry." She certainly loves apologizing. It's probably the mommy issues, Lance has something like this as well. Her mouth opened and she took him in again, slowly this time. She relished in the taste of herself and the slightly metallic zap of magic coming from the ward. It stuck so close to the skin that it wrapped around the foreskin as if it wasn't even there. Her tounge lapped at the veins on the underside, still looking him in the eye.

He moaned and laid back, head hitting one of Kassvins seven pillows. "You're still good at this." He muttered, looking down. He caught a glimpse of her tiny tail wagging from happiness. Adorable...

He reached down and grabbed her ears in his fists and guided her by them. She whimpered from the pain she loved so much, letting him use her like a toy until he came a few seconds later.

The ward. Seemed to give out at the exact moment, letting him spill on her lips.

"What a coincidence!" Valkyon said, smirking with self satisfaction.

"Indeed...."

"Good girls swallow."

"Do I look like a good girl?"

"You do look like one, but your a liar and a whore." The nice little tingles of desire returned as shame seeped into her. She opened up and licked the cum off her lips. "Wasn't so difficult, was it?" He pet her head, scratching behind her ears.

She tried to smile, but her emotions were so conflicted. Valkyon sighed and pat the space next to himself. She crawled into his arms and relaxed her body. So sore, so tired... Thirsty.

"That was really good, thank you." She said.

"Are we done? That was only one round."

She laughed. "Do you ever get tired??"

"Occasionally."

"By the gods... Can you get that water now? I'm dying of thirst.." She rolled away, flinging a cream colored thigh over a bunched up blanket.

He sighed. "Sure." He went to the kitchen, naked as the day he was born. He stood above the sink for a short while, letting the reality of his ex in his bed sink in. The reality of his ex, who fucked his brother and is continually fucking his brother while his brother was supposedly dead for three fucking years.

'Whatever.' He thought. 'It could be worse. Like if she was fucking my actually dead brother. Now that would be really bad.'

By the time he came back, Ykhar was on her feet admiring herself in the mirror. She was poking at a light bruise on her hip, he didn't notice he left that. She turned around to look at him when he entered, tail wagging and ears perked up.

"Aren't you cold?" He asked.

"A little bit." She went for the water, chugging the whole thing in one go.

"Cheers..." When she finished, he put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her down. Her knees hit the parquet, she dropped the metal cup, letting it roll away on the creaky floor. "You know, Kassvin hates to sleep with this mirror turned to the bed like this. He feels he's being watched."

She was grinning like a fool, tail wagging at maximum speed. He pushed her bottom lip with his thumb. Put the ward up, taking his sweet time. She was on the edge of her seat and he wanted to push her patience as far as it would go.

She let him push his finger past her bitten, red lips, opening up obediently.

"Go ahead, put on a show for his ghosts. Let 'em see." She reached up and delicately held his calloused hand, she sucked on each finger, still tasting herself. She moaned. "Kassvin would never do that."

He let her work until he felt her saliva get thick and stringy around his digits. She gagged as he pressed down on her soft tounge and dragged all the way out. He smeared the mess on his already hardening length and got out of her way so she could work.

And work she did, looking at her reflection and feeling the burning shame of an imaginary crowd of ghosts gawking at her. Naked, defiled... Mostly dirty, literally and figuratively.

Valkyons quiet grunts and soft moans kept her grounded in reality. She felt him grab her ears, he just wanted to feel their velvety texture. They're nice.

She looked up as she bobbed up and down, jaw wide open, face dripping with drool and eyes filled with tears.

"Look at yourself. Beautiful." He purred down, eyes glinting in the dark like a wolf. His face is mostly obscured by shadow, she feels like she's in the spotlight, the moonlight seems to be focused completely on her. She looked at herself again. 'Kassvin would never do that.'

She's so incredibly jealous... But she likes him, and she's really turned on by getting fucked in his bed by his man.

Valkyon grabbed some of her hair with her ears and yanked her off. He was rough with her, just like she wanted it, but he still looked at her if she was okay or not. She smiledt him, ears twitching upward in his fists, wanting to point upward. She's alright. "Bed?"

"Bed." Kassvins bed.

She hopped on, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Valkyon pushed her all the way to the headboard and pulled her ass up in the air. She didn't protest, instead she grabbed a pillow to hug and lowered her shoulders to the mattress.

She heard the faint sound of the ward spell being cast again and felt relieved, because she completely forgot that she could get pregnant. She wondered how long it lasted... Valkyon didn't seem like the best sorcerer, but lasting a while seemed like his forté.

The pillow smells like Kassvin... Oh the shame... It was awesome.

Valkyon ran a finger over her folds and was happy to find her still wet. He pressed in, making her moan. "Put it in already!" He scoffed, but he obeyed, the lady gets what she wants.

He set a slower pace this time, but he still slammed in hard. Her whole body rocked back and forth, she pressed her ass backwards into his hips with the last shred of clarity and strength left in her. Her back arched and she breathed in heavy, smelling the humans sweat on the pillow.

"Valkyon... Are you thinking about him?"

"Right now I'm thinking about breakfast, he makes... he makes good breakfast." His mind s a bit clouded right now. Wonder why. "Why, are you jealous?"

"Hmmmh!!!" He thrust into her extra hard. "A little bit~"

Hes a"You gettin' off on being fucked in his bed? In his house? Enjoy it. I bet you loved to fuck my brother in the same bed you fucked me." He had a firm hold on her hips, fingers pressing right on her already darkening bruises, adding a small whisper of pain to the generous pleasure. She found that she was throbbing for another touch and reached down to sate her desire.

"I bet he's not this good in bed."

"And I bet you're terrible in the kitchen."

"Gah! Whatever!"

He laughed, speeding up a little bit. She also went a little faster, and made louder and louder noises.

She grabbed the bars of the bedpost for stability as she came. Good job Valkyon!

She gasped for air, like she just ran a marathon. She felt him get more erratic before also cumming. This time the ward spell was somehow effective at holding itself together.

It did break a few seconds later however, so now the duvet is pregnant. Good job Valkyon.....

Ykhar turned over and beckoned the warrior into an embrace. He begrudgingly admitted to himself that he wanted a hug and let her breasts cushion his tired face.

Man, I love boobs.... Valkyon feels indifferent to boobs as a dragon, but they're undeniably a lot of fun. Like, who in mother nature's design team came up with built in stress balls with baby food in them. That's so dumb, and yet it works!

After a short while, the sweat dried on their skin and Ykhar really needed to pee, so they washed up and changed the dirty sheets before going to sleep. Ykhar on one side, Valkyon on the other, as far away as possible..... But they still woke up snuggled up with each other.

The morning came, as usual, way too soon for Valkyons liking. Neither of them had a hungover, since Ykhar had literally two drinks and Valkyon is like if Rasputin didn't stink.... as often. And was more fashionable.

He could chug rat poison and be okay.

They found a bite to eat while perched on the couch, blinds still closed for some reason. Valkyon prefers to live in houses that look like caves and he's been brooding about his dear Kassvin leaving, so he kept them closed.

Which was literally yesterday, might I remind you after 3000 words of nasty smex and fornication.

Ykhar had bedroom eyes again. She's a bottomless pit for cock.

"Do you want to go one last time?"

"Again?"

"Yes?"

"..... Sure, but you lead. It's too early to top."

Ykhar had taken the day off, because she thought she would be too hungover to work. This outcome is much more pleasant to her.

She pulled her shift off, feeling the nip in the air. Her hairs stood on end as she held his perfect face in her hands. He was really groggy looking, but undeniably horny as well. The heavens made them just for each other, it's a shame they fell apart.

"You're so pretty." Kassvin says that too. Especially when he's in his dragon form. Makes him feel truly seen.

She kissed him, tasted like buttered toast and black tea. Slow and lazy touches crept across their bodies. They tenderly held each other and went from vertical to horizontal really quickly.

Ykhar pushed his head down and he dutifully went down on her with a small smirk. He's in his element.

"You wipe that off your face you horndog!"

He laughed, kissing her thigh. She propped her leg up on the coffee table, opening up like a heavy tome with a cracked spine. He didn't say anything, he simply began by licking her opening from bottom to top, which made her whine.

"You sound like him." He said. "He reminded me of you, he's just as bad at flirting as you." He licked again. Her small hands reached down and tangled in his silver hair. His badly washed off black eyeshadow still clung on, it's a good look on him.

"And you remind me of Lance."

"It's almost like we're related." They laughed softly, still half asleep. He placed his lips back on her and began licking her without a break. She mewled and sank into the couch, limbs getting weak and her blood fizzing into her groin. She pulled his hair, tightly gripping it. He grunted, relishing in the sharp sensation. She pushed him into herself, yearning for more.

Her moans filled the small room, barely leaving any space for his own sounds of pleasure. She pulled him up by his hair and climbed into his lap again. Her mouth met his in a passiobate, breathtaking kiss. His hands went to embrace her, while hers went down to continue where he left off between her thighs.

"You're so selfless, Valkyon."

"I am. You should try it too." He jabbed at her immediately as he saw the opportunity for it. "I made you really happy last night, now it's your turn."

She shoved his shoulders back, a little offended, but being a good sport about it. "Two years of dating and you dare say I don't serve you? Valkyon, that is so mean of you!" She lightly scratched his sides with her short nails, leaving red marks. She barely grazed his leaking member with her palms before leaving him completely without touch. She kicked the coffee table away and took a step back. "You keep your hands to yourself then, if you're so tired of working!"

He rolled his eyes and put his hands behind his back, manspreading proudly to feast her eyes. I certainly hope you're as blessed with imagination as I am, because he's a beauty. "As you wish."

"Thank you." She climbed back into his lap, immediately going for a kiss. His face was cupped by the woman's palms, they were soft, they hadn't seen a day's worth of hard physical work in years.

She kissed him all over his face. He got smooches on his nose, his cheeks, his forehead and when she was done professing her annoyingly undying love, she moved on to kiss his neck. She bit down on his hot skin, drawing a soft 'nmh!' from him.

She found that her hands were drawn downward and wrapped around him. He made such sweet sounds under her hands and mouth that she couldn't help but bite him harder. He deserves the best.

She found his knifeplay scar and began sucking on it, making him moan. She slowly pushed the foreskin down and circled around the head with her thumb, enjoying his burning need for her. He wouldn't move, he's not going to back down. He's not a little bitch, he can do this!

As she found another spot on his neck to mark, she began stroking with one hand, nice and slow. She could feel herself fill to the brim with lust as his muscles tensed and shifted, he was trying to stay still and he was struggling.

She sped up, enjoying how he lost himself in the experience. He was more than willing to let her do everything, knowing that she also knew exactly how he wanted it.

Dark bruises littered his neck, he panted and gasped as those tiny hands of hers pumped him towards completion. She scratched his side, clawing red marks into his tan skin and then she stopped. She stopped everything.

"For fucks sake!" He said a wee bit too loud. She chuckled and sat down on the couch, spreading her legs to temp him. His gaze found itself fixed to her pink lips, I'll let you decide which lips for yourself. She beckoned with the flick of a finger. He went hands first, caressing her hips before pulling her toward him suddenly.

"Ah! Bastard!" Now, that, he didn't like. Because he's actually bastard. Didn't let it get him down though.

"You're also a bastard." He leaned down and kissed her while she greedily reached down to feel him again.

"So cast your spell before we become like our parents, smart-ass!" She said, forcefully turning his head to the side and finding a beautiful forever home for the newest hickey. "I certainly wouldn't be an awesome mother."

"Kassvin would kill me." Ykhar giggled for a few seconds before she felt herself be cradled in his arms tighter. She wrapped her limbs around him, kissed and bit his neck and moaned as he pushed in.

He moved nice and slow, it was way too early for bed breaking behavior. The floor still creaked underneath the couch, even if he was all slow and gentle this time. It's probably older than both of them combined.

Valkyon raked his fingers into her ginger hair and gently gripped her soft silky ears right at the base.

"Pull it, big boy." She said, heaving hard. Who is he to deny her? He pulled, not so hard as to cause damage, but enough to make her squeeze around his cock, whining.

She suddenly felt the urge to touch him. She needed to leave more marks... She hoped Kassvin would see them, as petty as she may seem. She marred his back like a hawk, almost drawing blood, he groaned and went faster.

"Go harder. I won't break."

"You should be happy I even got out of bed this early." She got even redder, not that he saw her face from this angle. He pulled her ears again, just to make her squirm a little.

"Please!" She clawed down his chest, where she could see her work. They were almost as red as the hickeys.

He had a smirk so smirky you'd want to slap the shit out of him right there, because you see, he would have been more than happy to go harder, he just wanted her to keep begging. The bastard! "Ask nicer."

"Pretty please?"

"..."

"I'll do anything, just please, please, please go harder! I need more!" He peeled her arms off of himself and straightened up to look her in the eyes.

"You'd already do anything." She groaned, covering her eyes. Her whole body rocked with the torturously slow rhythm.

"Please!"

"Promise me one thing and I'll wreck you, m'kay?" Her ears perked up at that.

"What is it??"

"You tell my brother to go to hell for still fucking you. That's a low blow." He smiled, imagining Lance's reaction. He's already regretting that he can't see it for himself.

"I will." She chuckled, opening her arms for him to return.

"It's not funny." He pulled out, flipped Ykhar over and railed her from behind hard enough to make her scream into the cushions. She likes it from behind. I know I would, I'm really socially awkward and I'd prefer my ruthless fucking without accidentally making eye contact.

He grabbed her hair and pulled it, she propped herself up on her elbows to avoid much of the pain. Valkyon then pulled even further, let her suffer if she likes it so much. Her screams were now unobstructed by anything and they could probably be heard from outside.

Valkyon recalled hearing Kassvin mutter to himself from across the whole house sometimes. He really wished he understood blavian...

Ykhar came, squeezing him even more than before. She was also saying things in her own native tounge, which Valkyon didn't understand any better that Kassvin's blavian. He thought about his dearest human, the pleading eyes he had looked at him with, as if Val wouldn't have given him anything in this wretched world, how he tried to make a joke to lighten his mood and lastly, how he moaned 'bruh' and how he felt so terribly embarrassed about it. Valkyon spent himself thinking about the human, because fuck you Ykhar, that's what you get.

They staid there, in Kassvin's house, not thinking about the day ahead of them. Valkyon never gave much thought to the stares he got after a night of whoring himself out. Somehow everyone always seemed to look at him a little differently, even if they had no way to know.

Until they had to step out that door, they didn't have to worry about any of that.

...

#eldarya #valkyon #eldarya ykhar #smut #fanfiction #eldarya fanfiction

[ingravinoveritas]

So, I just finished watching Staged and I'm having so many mixed feels. One of the weirder impressions I got was it seemed almost like a vehicle to put a wedge between Michael and David. I esp hated the ep where Georgia did all the stuff to the office room (messed with the thermostat, starved them, etc) just to get them to bitch at each other (and then admitted that it was cos "people like to watch that". Er, no. I like banter as much as anyone, but the energy of this series seemed idk...wrong?

Hi, Anons! These are both completely valid opinions and I very much appreciate you both feeling comfortable enough to write in and share them with me.

Anon #1: I had a lot of mixed feelings watching Staged 3, too. I think the episode you’re specifically referencing is episode 4, and I also thought that much of that seemed really contrived. I get needing to create conflict to have a show, but it seemed like there’s so little natural conflict between Michael and David that Simon had to fabricate something, and it just went sort of beyond the limits of believability. (This was also just confirmed by David in a Times Radio interview that was released today.)

I think that in real life, if Michael and David ever did fight for any reason, Georgia knows the fight would last for about two minutes and then they’d find their way back to each other, without any intervention. The banter between Michael and David that we love so much doesn’t need to be engineered or cajoled, because it just happens naturally. I almost wonder if Simon deliberately went over the top because he knew no one would ever buy Michael and David “breaking up” in episode 6 unless he chose to be heavy-handed about it. Which then contributed to the energy of this series feeling the way it did.

And Anon #2, that ties into what you have said as well. That defensiveness, particularly in the scene with David/Georgia and Michael/AL reading the “reviews” of Staged 3. It was indeed very meta, but rather than that “meta” being the show not taking itself seriously, it seemed to not take the audience seriously. It was the idea that “You don’t get this series because you’re not clever enough” as opposed to, “You don’t get this series because Simon is trying too hard to be clever” (which is what I felt was actually the case). 

To me, the funniest/best parts of Staged 3 were the ones farthest from the script. The little moments that weren’t rehearsed, and that let Michael and David be something more closely approximating themselves. It could be that some of the characters were dependent on the meta-ness to be relevant/have something to do with the plot, but not Michael and David. They have and always will work best just being who they are, together.

I also noticed some really interesting choices in terms of the dynamics this series chose to play up, and which parts of the characters were exaggerated/highlighted. I think the self-awareness tended to be apparent where it possibly wasn’t meant to be (as opposed to the scenes that were, and tried too hard to be). The place we got to at the end of episode 6 was ultimately where things got much better/how things should’ve been all along, but the process of getting there just seemed very circuitous and unnecessary.

Much of this is things I intend to cover in my analysis/review, so I don’t want to add too much more here. But I love that we are having these robust discussions and I very much enjoyed reading your thoughts, Anons. Thanks for writing in! x

#anonymous #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #georgia tennant #staged #or 'Brokeback Mount Him' which is what I am referring to Staged as from here on out #staged 3 #tbh i think Simon thinks he's more clever than he actually is #and it became apparent in the writing #if you have Michael and David together you don't need all the bells and whistles #and weird plot devices #in my opinion anyway #discourse

[animehouse-moe]

I'm terrible with timeliness and acknowledging things, but I hit 300 followers on Tumblr a couple of days ago now, which I thought was pretty cool. The conditioned response is a "thank you", but that doesn't feel right (and not in a selfish way, at least I believe). It's really cool that 300 people actually follow me and this account on a platform as I talk about anime and manga and whatnot, but it's one of those things where the longer I think about it the more I wonder as to why.

It's not like I offer anything unique with my stuff. I don't post art or fanfictions or anything that I can say is my creativity alone. As far as I see it, I'm just a crazy person scribbling away at a wall in an empty and white room. But I also don't really make any attempts to humanize myself in a lot of what I share, mostly because I struggle with riding the line between getting my point across effectively and in a meaningful fashion, and sounding like a person instead of an AI-generated response.

So maybe I should try a little to express myself some more, starting now.

I never intended to ever make something like this, nor do a lot of people. I was a university student over 2 years ago now that wanted to work on a project, but I needed a direction, a purpose. I deeply struggle with creation without reason, so I tried to find a way to drop a carrot in front of my face to encourage progress. A blog website is a very simple and easy thing to build to fill out your project portfolio, so I thought on what I'd be interested in making it for. Cars? Cool, but too costly to really do much of anything with. Computer hardware? Similar struggle. At that time, "Anime" came to mind as a cheap and accessible focus thanks to my increased watch time of media due to covid, so I ran with it.

I would just build fake or temporary blog posts to fill out the site and test it. Then I thought, if I'm going to have a blog site I should probably make a Twitter account for it as well. Oh, I should probably do this too, and that also. And so I accidentally made an entire platform based off an idea for a programming project. After about a year I abandoned the blog website because the project was "complete" and it's not like I was getting much traffic to it. But I kept the Twitter going, and going. And then one day I ended up here, and just kept going until I reached this follower count. It's weird to think about, in a sense. I never intended this for last, but it won't let go of me. It's even weirder because in all of my life I've never really been one to do anything like this before.

That's about it for the history though, I should probably add some details to the present.

As I write this I'm listening to a playlist of my favorite Nine Inch Nails songs. I'm a really big fan of their earlier work from albums like The Downward Spiral, that Industrial Rock sound is just so satisfying to me. But I'm also a bit of a music whore myself. When I say "everything except Country" I really mean it. Everything under the sun aside from Country music I'm cool with, but no matter how many phases I go through in terms of genres, I'll always gravitate towards the older music I used to listen on the radio to in my dad's car as we traveled for sports tournaments when I was younger. Foo Fighters, Muse, Soundgarden, Rage Against The Machine, Red Hot Chili Peppers, all the great bands of the early 2000s.

I also really do love art books. I'm terrible at art though I've never seriously tried, no matter how many times I tell myself I will. It does make me feel like an asshole though when I comment on art when I have no talent. It makes me feel unqualified to offer input on it, and makes me painfully aware of how shallow my analysis can be in comparison to what actually knowledgeable people can provide. I feel very similar with how I talk about anime. I refuse to view my words as an end all be all to any of the creative aspects because I've never even tried to what some of these authors/staff members have. But just like the couch potato dad will critique all the star athletes making hundreds of thousands a game, I'll sit myself down at my desk and belt out my complaints with very little reservation. A very hypocritical activity.

Sometimes I struggle with a healthy relationship between myself and this account. I think it's important to view them as two separate things for sanity's sake as well as to stave off an inflating ego, but it doesn't always happen. There's days I feel guilty for not saying something, for not making use of the platform I've created. I can feel a need to post, to be productive and compare myself to actual content creators despite my adamant declaration that I'm not one. It's a silly thing, but the internet and social media can be a terrible place that inspires people to desperation, to a deep desire for validation and popularity and that the numbers that you can see matter a great deal. It's not really fun.

Despite my (self proclaimed) "knowledge" of social media and the spheres of it that I engage with, I'm pretty terrible with outreach. Someone asking questions or challenging a point that I've written are things I can do very naturally, but genuine outreach and interaction is something that I struggle with. Should I do a giveaway? What's the best way to do it to make sure it goes to someone that deserves it? How should I go about finding similar accounts to interact or collaborate with? Is it okay if I reply to this post or ask a question? Truthfully, I might go as far as to say that I'm socially inept in regards to social media. It's a wave that I struggle to ride despite my reliance on it in several ways. But it's something I'm at least trying to stick with, so if there's any accounts similar to mine or anybody reading this thinks I'd be interesting in, tell me about them. Yes, a pathetically lazy request to make, but I just find myself intensely apathetic to a lot of the forced nature of social media.

But I'm still here, for whatever reason that may be. And I like talking about anime, manga, and all sorts of other similar things, for whatever reason that may be. And people follow me and like my posts, for whatever reason that may be.

[writingforevren]

WIP Intro - Eldenstow Creek

{ Story Description }

A drive through the empty roads of the countryside, along the edge of the woods and away from everything they'd once known. Sounds nice right? well not when you're running from something, something far more sinister than what they were about to encounter. The world was not as it seemed, there was another side, a side where strangeness & evil resided. Circuses popping out of seemingly nowhere, pools of mystical water trying to pull them in, unintended consequences after trying to fight this higher power. Everything had seemed normal but then they’d made one mistake, messed with the wrong person, spilled the blood of something they never should've. So yeah. They were in the same car and driving along the edge of the woods. Nothing to it.

{ The Basics } 

Genre - Urban Fantasy & Mystery

Themes & Tropes - Mystical, Supernatural, Adventure, Unlikely Friends, Unintended consequences, Derealization, Fear of The Unknown, Dark Imagery, LGBTQ+ Characters, POC characters, Dreamlike Descriptions, Mind-bending, Self-sacrifice, and Horror.

Setting - Fictional locations in Eastern U.S & Fantasy Locations

Status - Plotting & Drafting

Point Of View - Third Person Limited

Content Warning - Contains Dark Topics such as assault, violence & murder.

{ Spoiler-Free Synopsis }

Shae Brooks is just trying to live a ‘normal’ life, at least not one full of fantasy creatures and a girl who seems to be more full of bullshit than anyone else he’d ever met. He makes one mistake, he interacts with the wrong person, but instead of just letting him deal with his own problems like a normal person, a girl named Ruby Gardner comes along and decides the best course of action is violence.

Not wanting to be arrested for a crime he didn’t commit the best course of action is to go with her right? And when things go south from there the only choice is to follow this lunatic girl who seems to be stuck in her head far more than the real world wherever she intends to take them. The further they venture, the weirder things get, pools of mystical water, creatures from the unknown, woods that seem to be unending, bottomless creeks, and a journey they’d truly never forget. 

But the question is... why? why any of it? Why does he choose to go along with this girl who is the exact opposite of himself, whom he never in a million years thought could be a friend. What is this girl hiding and why did she do something so unthinkable such as spilling the blood of another?

There’s love and there’s loss, but nothing is as it seems and that stands true for the happy ending as well.

{ Eldenstow Creek Playlist }

Mysterious & Unusual, the perfect accompaniment to this story.

{ Notes & Conclusion }

I was inspired to write this story by two very different stories, one of which is Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman where it starts off seemingly normal and gets more and more strange as time goes on, and the other is The End of The F***ing World mostly in writing style and also the whole- murder thing y’know? So if like those, you might like this one. 

Character Intros will hopefully be soon (if I get any interaction that would help motivate me to share) for the two main characters Ruby and Shae who are complete opposites but both have very strong personalities.

This story is early in development, I’ve just written bits and pieces here and there but I did want to put an intro out there so if you are interested in this idea, you can watch as it develops.

{ General Writing Taglist }

@weirdfishy | @wannabeauthorzofija | @annlillyjose | @radiomacbeth | @opes-magnas | ask to be +/- 

{ Eldenstow Creek Taglist } 

this one’s empty for now but if you’d like to be informed of updates and shared excerpts feel free to send an ask and I’ll add you :)

#writeblr #writing #amwriting #creative writing #original writing #wip: eldenstow creek #wip: roadnoise #renwrites #mystery #urban fantasy #mind-bending #supernatural #adventure #I know I said I wouldn't be posting much but I remembered this was in my drafts and had to

[artikgato]

8/7/2023

7 days into the 8th month of the year probably isn't the best time to try starting a bunch of new things to try to turn my life around, but hey, at least I started on a Monday.

Back in May I spent about two weeks waking up at 5am every day (mostly) in order to get work done while the apartment was otherwise empty (my roommate has a very early morning job). I was pretty amazed at how productive I was for those two weeks. Animazement, and then moving to the new apartment, pretty much derailed that. And after the move a lot of things happened and so on and so forth, and I never got back around to trying to wake up at 5am every day, until last week. I had a couple of successful 5ams and a few failures, but then on Friday I decided that even if all I do is sit down with my coffee and scroll Tumblr or watch dumb Youtube videos or stare into space, I was going to wake up at 5am every day no matter what. I was getting too in my head about it, lamenting that waking up at 5am and not wanting to be productive was somehow a waste of time. Hopefully it sticks this time because let me tell you, yes waking up that early does suck but the world is so peaceful at 5am. Nobody else is awake both IRL and online. I can get so much done if I feel like it, and even if I can't I still get to enjoy the peace and quiet! And it's not 1000 degrees yet!

I'm also trying super hard to start writing at least 1000 words per day. I was doing that for a long time back during 2020 but things (surprisingly unrelated to the pandemic) happened and I fell out of the habit. Again, I was getting too in my head about it, because there were days, a lot of days, where I'd sit down to write whatever WIP I was struggling with and would fail to write. This is counting towards my 1000 words for today, even though it's just a silly blog post about nothing. It's still words. Hopefully this will stick, too.

And finally, I made myself put on clothing I could sweat in and left the house a little after 7am to go for a quick mental health walk. I've been in this new apartment for nearly two months now and I somehow hadn't bothered to explore the new neighborhood yet, which is weird because that's usually one of the first things I do! And even weirder, I knew there were three Pokéstops and a gym within easy walking distance and yet I had no interest in going to them.

When I tell you my depression has been bad for these last two months, I mean bad.

But anyway, the area is pretty nice as far as these things go. It's suburban sprawl, but there are some houses with cute gardens and there is a dog park. I also saw a cat! And yes, there are the three aforementioned Pokéstops and 1 gym. I left the gym red today, but tomorrow I intend to take it for Team Mystic. I also need to figure out how Routes work, because if I can set up a route between these stops and gym I will be 100% more likely to drag myself out of the house even on days where I don't want to.

It was nice out this morning. Well, there was 100% humidity because it rained last night, BUT there was a nice breeze and it was maybe 73 degrees at most, which is just downright chilly for this time of the year. I might have to start dragging my ass out of the house at 6am instead of 7am on days where it's going to be hot, though. And once winter sets in, I might be out jogging before dawn. I never ever thought I'd be the kind of person that goes out jogging before dawn.

Anyway, if for some reason you read to the end of this post, congratulations, I guess? And in the much more likely scenario that you are me from the future in, say, December... well, I hope you kept these up, future me. And even added more things to improve my stupid failing health and dumb broken brain!

Word count: 743

#mental health jogwalk

[topaz-eyes]

I posted 2,316 times in 2022

That's 1,666 more posts than 2021!

14 posts created (1%)

2,302 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cosmictuesdays

@smackalicious

@isagrimorie

@cometocourtyou

@twincityhacker

I tagged 2,314 of my posts in 2022

#omg lol - 460 posts

#omg amazing - 160 posts

#1000% adorable - 113 posts

#not wrong - 109 posts

#this blue hellsite - 107 posts

#what are cats even - 87 posts

#writing - 81 posts

#1000% accurate - 76 posts

#fandom - 70 posts

#writing fanfic - 69 posts

Longest Tag: 126 characters

#reblogging for "“corporation seeks to replace civil justice system with a kangaroo court and gets kicked by its own kangaroo.”

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Rating: G (All Audiences)

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: Wherein Johnny tries out one of the definitely weirder historical tastes of Canada.  (Or, one of those more hilarious real-life-meets-fiction coincidences for our beloved hapless paramedic.)  Gen, Humour, Crack.  Written for Emergency! Summer of 51’s 2022 for Day Four: Food and/or Dinner.

4 notes - Posted August 16, 2022

#4

Rating: E (Explicit)

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings (includes minor character death)

Summary: “Johnny, we had sex,” Roy said point-blank.  “That kind of makes it a big deal.”  Johnny’s attempt to comfort Roy after an emotionally devastating shift leads to some unexpected revelations.  Angst, M/M, Roy DeSoto/Johnny Gage.  Written in part for the Monthly E! Prompt April 2022 Challenge, Showers.

5 notes - Posted September 17, 2022

#3

Fiction ask meme:

You know I want to pester you about Deluge, but I won't. I'll ask about House Victorian Interlude. What was the inspiration behind that? Did you have to do research? Do you have a favorite line/part?

Thanks!

House Victorian Interlude! There's a blast from the past. Going back 14 years...this is a 3-part House/Wilson Victorian era AU, written in 2008-2009. The individual fics are:

Towards An Understanding of the Catabolic Nature of the Human Male (9464 words, Explicit) Even in the Victorian age, it was all about sex.

Ardor Resolutus (2700 words, Explicit) What happened after Wilson appeared on House's doorstep in "Towards an Understanding of the Catabolic Nature of the Human Male."

On the Commission of Unnatural Offenses (9351 words, Explicit) Wilson sadly came to learn, all the heated evenings, all those months sleeping in House's bed, would still leave him woefully unprepared for the most unusual, and disturbing, proposition the man had ever let loose upon him.

What was the inspiration behind that?

Crack. It was all crack. I'd known about the Victorian era diagnosis of "feminine hysteria" for awhile, and the "treatment" for it, but didn't know what to do with it. Until one day in mid-August 2008, I was in kind of a hyper mood, and I thought it'd be fun to write Victorian era House/Wilson. That's all. Oddly, no one else I knew of had done that before (which I thought strange, House MD was a loose adaptation of Sherlock Holmes, it seemed a perfect setting for an AU). I made Wilson a newly-arrived specialist in female disorders, who makes his acquaintance with House, a brilliant but misanthropic doctor and professor of medical philosophy at Princeton. I wrote it in 10 days, 2 lovely people beta'ed it, and "Towards An Understanding..." was posted to LJ end of August.

I never intended to continue the AU, but in late December 2008 I decided I wanted to break 60k words of fic posted for the year. Iirc "Ardor Resolutus" was the original ending for "Towards An Understanding..." but I cut it from the initial draft before I sent it to beta because the fic felt too long otherwise. (It's been 14 years, memory is fuzzy and I didn't take detailed notes at all.) In 2 days I fleshed out what I cut, took 2 more days for beta, and I posted it to LJ just in time to meet my 60k goal for 2008.

I started "On the Commission..." right after posting "Ardor Resolutus". Like "Ardor Resolutus" it rose from paragraphs cut from "Towards An Understanding…". I had 5000 words for it by mid-Jan 2009, but then ended up picking at it over the next 3 months. It was finished in late April, then beta'ed and posted to LJ by the end of April.

Did you have to do research?

I sure did. I had to adapt the circumstances of House and Wilson's meeting, of course, and the source of House's leg injury (falling off a horse); the entire theory of the "catabolic" male vs the "anabolic" female re sex, which House was keen on disproving; and Victorian male fashion, where men were considered immodestly undressed if they didn't wear cravats and vests/waistcoats. (Not to mention the "spermatorrhea" bit for entirely normal wet dreams. The entire Victorian attitude towards sex was seriously more an eye-opener than I expected.) I also wanted to include enough setting details that the story felt grounded in the era and believable. If I'm going to write crack, I'm going all in.

Do you have a favorite line/part?

I like the scene in "Towards An Understanding..." where House explains his theory to Wilson; and the end of "On The Commission..." where House subverts Wilson's expectation of being outed (and arrested).

Thank you for letting me take the trip down memory lane, Phoenix! And you can ask about "Deluge" if you want, I don't mind.

7 notes - Posted November 6, 2022

#2

Rating: E (Explicit)

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Summary: “I think it’s been long enough now, for me to start trying to move on.  And I’ve—well, I’ve missed you, Junior.  So—uh, so will you come over and spend the night with me?”  Roy DeSoto/Johnny Gage, future!fic

8 notes - Posted April 28, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

@abpoli, @allthecanadianpolitics

Welcome to the petro state of Alberta, y’all.  Now with added fascism.

106 notes - Posted November 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #that be a lot of posts #of course the top post would be the politics post #most of my content posts are links to ao3 fic #in 2022 i remembered i had fic tags #i stopped using those tags in like 2017

[forever-will-last]

How did this amazing polycule come to be? Both in verse and in the discord if it isn't too much trouble

Sooooo in verse? I don't have an answer LOL the lovely thing about crackfic is you don't always really need an explanation for stuff like this. I have no idea how this polycule came to be but what I DO know is that the in verse characters do NOT follow canon. There was no burn book. There was no bus. Regina still got her back fucked up at one point (not entirely sure how yet, or if I'll go into the details of whatever accident she did have at all) but that's just bc I love disabled and chronically ill Regina and want to write her into some of the one shots.

When did these characters meet? Was it high school? Was it college? Who fucking knows! All I know is the EARLIEST in their four years we'll see is the fall semester of their sophomore (second, for the non Americans) year of college with occasional references to things that happened spring semester freshman year (I only mention this bc I literally reference exactly one thing from freshman year in chapter 3, not sure if itll ever pop up again) because I'm being purposefully vague about it. Maybe later on into writing in this verse I'll have more of a concrete answer but I wouldn't count on it lmfao.

As for the discord server, that I CAN give a better answer on! And this is going to be the WILDEST answer of all time so hang in there.

So we have channels for three different poly ships in our ships channel list on that server: one for Polystics (Regina/Gretchen/Karen (and sometimes Cady, depending on the person/mood/setting/etc)), one for Nightmare Blunt Rotation (Regina/Cady/Janis) and one for Dream Blunt Rotation (Cady/Gretchen/Karen). Now, Nightmare Blunt Rotation as a joke predates me joining that server, so I can't really give you much on how THAT came to be, but Dream Blunt Rotation's name was spawned as a riff on the other, obviously.

Literally just last week we were having one of our "blending sessions" where we basically just brainstorm back and forth about what a specific character or characters would do in a specific situation that can be varying degrees of angst. For example, one of these blending sessions is actually how the entirety of the first Dead!Aaron AU Fic came to be.

In this particular session we were taking a deeper dive into "what if Regina jumped in front of the bus and it wasn't an accident" essentially and I had said something along the lines of "Sui***** Regina in any partnership (take your pick from the standard and adjust their reactions accordingly) where she doesn't let on that there's anything wrong until an attempt."

I was primarily thinking of Cady, Janis, and Gretchen when I sent that, as those are the big three Regina x ___ ships in that server, but someone else said "consider Polystics where she attempts bc she thinks the other two would be better off without her" and this had me thinking. What if there was an insane polycule of Polystics + Cady + Janis...

So I asked the fateful question of "do we have a silly name for this yet like NBR and DBR?" The original suggested names were "Pile of Lesbians", "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall", "Mean Girls", and then... The brilliant Tumblr user Sexycornenthusiast busted out "The Psych Ward" and that was it. We all laughed really fucking hard and knew that had to be the insane name.

This all happened on 4/17 and then on 4/20 I got astronomically high as god intended but I really wanted to write. Now, I have a rule for myself where I don't write fic I intend to publish when I'm high or drunk bc I generally write very serious fic (I cannot imagine what hell chapter of a thousand pictures i would have put out with the level of high I was). But I still REALLY wanted to write so I was like fuck it and asked for one-shot suggestions.

Someone recommended hitting Regina with progressively weirder things throughout the day, as we have an ongoing joke about the various shit Regina gets hit by in fanfic (there's a PHENOMENAL cadina fame au another server member wrote where Regina gets hit by a golf cart and then in my main fic a thousand pictures Regina gets hit by a chair). I loved that idea but was like "wait what ship should I write this with bc I want the first thing to be her getting elbowed by her partner when she wakes up" and someone suggested psych ward and that was it. I knew what I had to do.

After I wrote that one shot i started getting more ideas for this crackfic and decided to make a one shot collection set in the same AU because fuck it. The world needs more crackfic and by God does the world need more psych ward.

(final fun fact before I end this behemoth of a post - I tagged every possible duo/trio of psych ward on the fic on AO3 because I do intend to have at least one chapter dedicated to each possible pairing or trio and there are SEVERAL tags where this is now the only fic in its tag and SEVERAL of the trio tags I had to fully type out because they straight up did not exist at all LMFAO)

#ask #jesus this was long #i have never been concise a day in my life

[theghostpinesmusic]

Since my last Goose-related post, the news dropped that Ben is leaving the band. As is apparently to be expected these days, this news was accompanied by all sorts of ugly internet speculation, gross rumors, and attempts by randos on the internet to use the band's interpersonal struggles to grab tiny little bits of attention for themselves.

I don't really intend to write about all that any further, but suffice to say that because of it - and, thankfully, also because of a really fun holiday vacation with family - I haven't listened to any Goose for the last few weeks. Ben's drumming was one of the first things that caught my attention about the band, and I was really bummed to learn he was leaving, but I'm looking forward to whatever the remaining band members do next instead of putting my time and energy into choosing sides in a made-up internet fight. It's likely the band comes out of this playing as strong as (or even stronger than) they were during the fall tour. And, if I'm wrong and the next iteration of Goose no longer clicks with me, I'll...find something else to listen to.

To put that attitude into practice, today I'm going to write probably-a-lot about the Brussels "Animal."

"Animal" is a new-ish Goose song, having debuted at Legend Valley on 6/11/22. It's been a frequent part of setlists since then, being played forty times so far. In my memory, it was a jamming juggernaut from the jump, and continued to be one throughout 2022, but in 2023 it seemed to become a bit less of an exploratory vehicle and more of a straight-up rocker.

Now, as much as I always love the jams, I think "Animal" fits both roles well. It's one of the absolute catchiest songs in the band's repertoire of originals, and most nights I will absolutely welcome an eleven- or twelve-minute version of the song that's basically just a feature for a shredding session from Rick. That said, in the last few months the song has been getting weirder and weirder within its typical structure (Peter including animal sound effects, longer and longer "space" jams introducing the song, heavier use of synths), and before Brussels I was often a little disappointed with shorter versions, wanting to see where 2023's take on "Animal" might go if the band really let it off the leash.

Then they played a twenty-six minute version, and answered my question. It's a truism that length isn't everything when it comes to jamming. Throughout my decades of listening, I've certainly heard many memorable twenty-, thirty-, and even forty-plus-minute jams that were great because the band stayed in that improvisational zone for that long. But of course, I've also heard many thirty-minute jams that could have been much shorter and gotten the same point across. I've heard twenty-minute jams that maybe didn't need to have been a jam at all. And I've heard (especially with Goose and latter-day Phish) ten minute jams that blow most longer improvisations out of the water.

That's all to say that it's not the twenty-six minutes that matters here, it's what they do with it. This is what I think of in my own dorky personal jam cosmology as a "hydra jam" (i.e., you cut off one head and two more take its place): it's a jam with multiple distinct sections that are all separate from the original composed song musically. There are little transitions between these spaces, but mostly the performance as a whole has a string-of-pearls quality, if that makes sense.

This version starts with the now-typical spacey intro, then we drop into the song proper. Almost immediately, things are different than usual here: normally the vocals come in right away, but instead the band vamps on the opening chord progression for a few minutes. It's not until the 4:20 mark that the song starts in earnest. While this jam isn't exactly top-shelf improv in and of itself (it's really just an extension of the usual intro), it's a nice mellow groove and a sign that the band is feeling it, which is never a bad thing.

As I said above, the song proper is catchy as all hell, and I always hear shades of Yes's "Owner Of A Lonely Heart" in the chorus, though maybe that's just me. We start in on the jams at the 8:15 mark, with Peter taking the lead on the piano at first, pulling things in a jazzy direction.

There's a mini-breakdown around 9:00 as the band quiets things down, and we stick with the jazz feel for a bit. We haven't necessarily departed from the structure of the original song yet, here, but one of my ongoing wishes when it comes to Goose jams is for Peter to play more jazz. So I love this part, though it's possible that's just personal bias. For my money, this section is also a great example of Rick's always-improving ability to play song really engaging rhythm guitar as second fiddle to Peter's soloing. There's a smooth hand-off at 11:45 as Rick takes over the soloing duties, and lays down a nice, peak-y bit of playing...

...until 13:20, where he signals a change in the direction of the jam, and shortly after everyone backs off and slows down, the band moving as a whole into a really beautiful almost-but-not-quite ambient space (Ben's drumming provides a really neat, driving counterpoint here to the atmospheric playing everyone is doing).

One of my all-time favorite Goose jams is the version of "Time To Flee" that they performed on 10/2/20 with Dave Grippo guesting on saxophone, and a big reason for that is a gorgeous, extended sequence that sounds like it's riffing off of the outro to "Reuben and Cherise." For what it's worth, this section of the Brussels "Animal" echoes that previous jam for me, in a great way.

Also, watching Rick absolutely feeling the band's groove here while not just straight-up shredding over it is great. It feels like one of those great moments where everyone is perfectly on the same wavelength. The energy rises slowly but surely over a few minutes before peaking around twenty minutes in, and then Rick takes a bit of a left turn at 20:30. The camera is on Ben here, and it's neat to see him quickly switch up the beat in response to the change. Peter hangs on the organ for a few beats, then heads back over to the piano as a new jam space coalesces.

At first, this almost sounds like something from 2021's Ted Tapes, with both Rick and Peter jumping into and out of complementary riffs while the rhythm section dances around them. Rick gets a bit more chord-y around 22:50, and now the jam almost sounds like "Butter Rum" for a moment, before Ben switches up the beat again and now, somehow, we're in a bluegrass-sounding space. Well, that's fun!

When Peter switches over to the organ at 24:40, things really start to gain momentum, and shortly after we sprint to the top of the mountain, so to speak. The lights are great here, too.

Typically, even after extended jams, the band is pretty dedicated to going back and finishing up the song proper; however, in this case that doesn't happen. Rather than segueing back into the "Animal" chord progression, they bring the energy back down one more time and slowly and gently fade out to wrap things up. So that's pretty cool.

I have no idea what 2024 Goose is going to look or sound like, but hopefully they keep having this much fun taking "Animal" deep!

#goose #goose the band #tour journal #music #live music #jams #videos #writing #jam bands #Youtube

[half-giant]

So I finished that new Wednesday TV show, and I have thoughts about it. But, in short: it wasn’t bad, just disappointing. Spoilers throughout this post if you care.

I’ll start with what I liked:

The casting, particularly for the Addams themselves, was fantastic. Luis Guzmán played Gomez, and was practically on par with Raul Julia. I can see him doing the Mamushka. Catherine Zeta-Jones is a lovely Morticia. She’s a little more lighthearted than I expected, but she makes it feel authentic. And Fred Armisen makes for a both creepy and kooky Uncle Fester.

And the other cast were fun as well. You can tell they had a good time making the show. They come across as a little Riverdaley at times, but that comes down to the writing (which I’ll be getting to).

And I would be remiss if I didn’t talk about Jenna Ortega as Wednesday. She is THE highlight of the show, delivering her lines perfectly, and capturing the feel of a girl from a family of lovable psychopaths. Even when everything else seemed bad, I enjoyed her as Wednesday.

Also Thing. I don’t think this counts as casting, but Thing was done very well. Incredibly expressive given that Thing is just a hand. I think my favorite moment was in episode one when he curls down two of his fingers to simulate bending the knee in submission.

The set design and costuming were also done very well. The school uniforms gave a cohesive aesthetic to most of the cast, while still allowing characterization through the minor customization of done by individuals. The scenes were mostly kept to a few key sets: Wednesday and Enid’s room, The Conservatory (where all two or three classes we see are held), The Weathervane (a café), and Principal Weems office, as well as the woods. And those sets look very pretty, as are the one or two off sets, even if they’re less complex.

The quips, for the most part, were actually funny, and the show let itself sit in emotional moments without feeling a need to undercut them. That’s a low bar to clear, sure, but I’ve seen enough Marvel movies that it feels refreshing.

The moment in particular that most impressed me was when Thing was stabbed and Wednesday thought he was dead. She’s on the verge of tears (we know she hasn’t cried since her pet was killed as a child) and Uncle Fester is shocking him to try to resuscitate him or something. Here she tries to make a quip, but it doesn’t come off as funny. It comes off like a scared girl who’s afraid of losing her friend, who’s afraid it’s already too late. (I don’t know whether this was something the writers intended or just something Ortega interpreted herself, but I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt given how well it turned out)

Now onto the stuff I thought wasn’t so good. Which I think I shall divide into questions I asked multiple times while watching:

Why do they call themselves that? The show makes it clear pretty early on that in this world vampires, werewolves, and all sorts of other monsters not only exist but are known by the world at large. Nevermore Academy is a place for all those freaks and weirdos (affectionate) to gather. And they call them “outcasts”, which is used as a technical term and comes off a bit stilted (particularly when Wednesday has a psychic vision where a bunch of New England puritans say it).

It’s much weirder, however, when everyone who isn’t an outcast is called a “normie.” Now, if this were a thing the students used it wouldn’t be so bad (and for the 3/4 of an episode it’s used that way I liked it), but it seems to also be the technical term (it’s used by the principal, the mayor, and the sheriff). I feel like I’m 16 again the number of times I heard normie used. I would rather die than be 16 again.

Why weren’t they in college? This is a question I have for most every show set in a high school, and Wednesday fails to give a satisfactory answer. The characters seem to spend more time out of class than in it. They are constantly off campus. One of the characters, Tyler (who I presume is also in high school), seems to spend every moment not at home working at the local cafe, morning and evening.

Why are the Addams family so adverse to murder? Wednesday seems appalled by the idea her father could be a murderer. And her Mother is appalled that Wednesday believes her father is a murderer. Tied into this, in a flashback, we see Gomez get his ass handed to him by some rando (not actually a rando but he kinda is) and seem unable to fight. Morticia too, seemed to not understand how to hold a sword, despite being the captain of the fencing team.

In The Addams Family (1991), Morticia and Gomez discuss meeting at Gomez’s cousin’s funeral when he was “Still a suspect.” Then in Addams Family Values, Gomez accidentally cooks a stripper in a cake for his brother’s bachelor party. It’s pretty sexist, but it shows the family’s attitude towards manslaughter and murder. Nonchalance.

And in Wednesday, they have this attitude 90% of the time, but then actual murder happens and suddenly it’s “Your father is innocent.” I wish he had murdered that dude, it would have been cooler.

Wait, why did no one comment on the bad guys (One of whom is an actual Puritan witchhunter) using magic? Isn’t that, like, super hypocritical? Asking this question almost worries me that I’m asking to have my hand held and be spoonfed my morality, but I honestly don’t think the writers even realized the contradiction here. I figured someone would have said even a throw-away line about this. But no, everyone just accepts that the bad guys use magic. I’m not surprised the bad guys are hypocrites, but you’d think that someone would at least use that to make a point.

If Wednesday is so woke, why does she act like the cops are the good guys? This could be better phrased as “Why isn’t this show subversive when it clearly wants to be?” I actually think I have a good answer for this one, Tim Burton. He likes the aesthetics of transgression, but doesn’t actually like transgressing. His characters look like freaks but aren’t. The word for this where I came from is poser.

Wednesday works as a detective and constantly tries to collaborate with the sheriff despite knowing that he hates her, thinks her father is a murderer, and also doesn’t want her around. The end of the season shows that he’s corrupt (he at the very least suspected his son was a monster), but she insists on doing it through proper channels or whatever.

In addition, the show uses “woke” language a lot, and it makes me cringe every time. I don’t mind that it wants to be woke, I’m not some chud. In fact I encourage it. You might even call me a feminist. The problem with Wednesday (2022)’s language is that it merely comes across like early 2010′s pop feminism, without actually saying anything. A character says “There’s no patriarchy in the [bee]hive.” I think that sentence alone encompasses everything I mean.

Do you think this could have used a rewrite? That’s a bad way to use my framing device, but I don’t know how else to say it. A lot of the show has good ideas, but it needs rewritten to actually be good. Whether this is a dialogue, or characters, or plotting, or just factual information. We establish that Wednesday is smart. I like this a lot. I love it when a girl gets to be smart in media. I wish she sounded smart. I wish anyone sounded smart. No one sounds stupid luckily, but there wasn’t enough time spent refining the script. Instead we just get glimpses of what it could have been. Maybe I have too high a standard for TV, or media in general ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Most importantly, why wasn’t it gay? I was properly queerbaited by the marketing for this show, and I want to complain about how ungay this show is. Despite making a poster for the show with the text “Wednesgay,” there are only two queer characters in the show. They are the mothers of Eugene and are in maybe three scenes with maybe 10 lines between the two of them. This damn show promised me a gay Wednesday Addams, and instead I got her stuck in the world’s shittiest love triangle between the guy we’re supposed to think is the murderer and the actual murderer (who are both the most CW characters in the show). For that alone I must give this show a 0/10.

I will watch season two but I will be frowning and shaking my head throughout.

#Wednesday (2022) #wednesday spoilers #I would say I actually liked it quite a lot #Just please let it be gay next time

[muses-archive]

On the cards #6: success in cringe

They were late even with Thoma speeding way too dangerously so they only saw the last few moments of the performance. The darkness and the mirror setup nonetheless leaves Kazuha in some stupor days after. The lithe figure, the form fitting outfit, the trailing sleeve… it’s a departure from the more baggy clothes he’s used to seeing.

He can’t possibly bring it up though. He doesn’t think he’s meant to see it. After all, he never made any mention of it. He should apologize, right? He takes out his phone, intending to make a call, then realizes he’d never asked for Xiao’s number. He’s already asked for so many favours of Tomo (by extension, Thoma) to not want to request this Totally Vital Information, nor does he want to make it seem even weirder. 

All he wanted was a change of pace to maybe kickstart his writing after work. It was the only one they could watch that weekend since its scheduling was erratic to begin with. He really didn’t know! Is there anything he could do to apologize? Did he even realize he was there? This is just getting out of hand -

The salesperson is giving him a look. He must have been making faces while browsing. He wants to die. He tries to give an apologetic smile, slowly backing away from the markers he’d been scrutinizing, and bumps into someone. Mentally cursing the narrow aisles of this hole-in-the-wall shop, he begins to say sorry, and freezes. Before he can collect himself, Xiao’s dragging him out by the wrist.

Next thing he knows, he gets treated to some juice. “Wait! I wanted to apologize for the other weekend! I really didn’t know it was you -”

Xiao doesn’t look particularly menacing when he’s drinking from a garishly coloured cup with a straw, but -

“That’s what you’ve been worrying about?” 

“Y-yes…? Weren’t you keeping it a secret?”

The suspense is killing him. Xiao raises an eyebrow. “I am.”

“I thought you’d be madder…”

He shrugs. “I didn’t intend for you to find out. Since you have, it’s… not that big a deal, really. I trust you.”

Kazuha is sure his heart stops beating for several seconds. He knows his jaw falls open. Xiao’s laughing . He’s trying to cover his mouth but he’s laughing . He almost wants to throw the juice in his face. His face heats up in response, and he sinks to the ground. Remembering the drink in his hand, he sips away, feeling like a complete loser.

“How much of it did you see anyway?”

“Maybe 5 seconds,” he mumbles. He was too busy overthinking.

“And you were worried over that? I’m surprised you even recognized me.” He sounds like he’s struggling not to laugh again. Gods above, someone just shoot him already. 

The realization dawns on him. Had he been thinking of Xiao often enough to make the connections…? He needs to fly home to Inazuma and walk off a cliff and even that wouldn’t be enough to relieve him of his embarrassment. He deserves to be laughed at.

“What were you performing anyway?” he asks, in the most defeated tone he can muster. In for a penny, in for a pound.

“It’s some short excerpt I found. No ending,” Kazuha perks up when it’s Xiao’s turn to be flustered, avoiding his eyes. Must be more self disclosure than he intended.

“Oh?” 

“Well.” A deep breath. “You can come watch next time and decide. I’ll let you know when.”

He holds out his hand. Kazuha stares, dumbfounded, feeling ridiculously pleased at the shade of red creeping up Xiao’s face. He pulls over his hood, in a cute attempt to hide. It does nothing while Kazuha’s still crouched, his self pity ebbing away with every passing minute at this turn of events. “I’ll give you my number.”

Obediently, he fishes out his phone and places it in the proffered palm. He’s dimly aware that his lockscreen and homescreen are fortunately very innocuous things, being photos of some cloud formations that he likes, and that in the rush, he both forgot what supplies he actually needed, and that he has to run to class very soon. 

“There. I…” as though he hit his quota of words for the day, Xiao hesitates. “Treat me next time.”

With Kazuha’s phone safely back in his hands, Xiao leaves with haste, leaving him in a daze. 

Attendance score be damned. There’s no functioning to be had today.

#musearchive cards #kazuxiao

[anywhereexcepthome]

Preface

I think the world has a very interesting way of showing itself to you, especially when you let it. The problem is it won't ever do so unless you can let go of whatever is in your present mind. I think the content I intend on writing is relatively heavy but there's never a bad time to talk about my experience with cats.

I've been trying to find the right time to start to work on this. It's been a while in the making. I've been starting to resolve some of my inner issues and have been attempting to let them go as I do. It's hard to find the right time to start something that feels so ambitious. Maybe tomorrow would have been better. Maybe I should have started earlier, but then I wouldn't have the experiences I have to this date. I don't know. Maybe my experiences would have been better if I had started this before. Who knows.

I can feel myself rambling and I think a preface is meant to be short and sweet... what was I talking about earlier... Cats.

Regardless of why today was the day. It was. I found myself walking down towards the pier with the sun setting. It was still bright enough to get my forehead nice and red, but just starting to show the peach lines over the escarpment hills that often remind me it's time to stop drinking coffee. During my journey I found myself incredibly emotional, thinking about what I was going to say. How am I going to word it? Is it weird to write a memoir about yourself? Fuck, isn't it even weirder to write a memoir ABOUT yourself TO YOURSELF? All these thoughts about the pointlessness of it all seemed to shut out pretty quickly by a flood of tears I kept trying to keep off my face. Not for my own sake, for those around me. A 6'3 245lb dude with a big beard and painted nails is scary enough—let's not add my sobbing into the mix as well.

I digress, it didn't take much longer until I saw a cat lying on the pathway(Probably not a safe place, it was a pretty busy bike lane). I think anyone who knows me can complete the rest of the story but I let go of my feelings and I was able to pet him or her,(Maybe a xir in today's climate) and I felt myself drift back into a state of peace. I found myself laying in the grass with a strange black cat for almost a half hour and smiling for the first time today. 

The point is, I think the world can show you exactly what you need, you just need to let go of control and let it. I think that's what this is. It's me putting to bed the last few years of my life and a lot of the issues that have come with them.

Pain

I've always found human interactions with pain incredibly interesting. I think it exists to tell us we're doing something wrong, it's a warning sign. Your brain telling you STOP, DON'T DO THAT. We find ourselves in interesting situations where we will endure pain if needed.

If we have a toothache and it takes a bit of pain to fix our teeth, we'll go to a dentist. If your head hurts from studying too much—we'll keep dredging along because we need to get our work done.

It seems to be a pretty inefficient way to prevent us from doing things that are bad for us.

We'll get our skin pierced to embezzle it despite the pain. We'll forcefully push ink into our skin walls with needles to create skin doodles. We seem to have an interesting relationship with pain. If its purpose was to prevent us from doing something it seems to be doing a bad job. 

We also seem to have a desire to pursue or look for pain. You crack your knuckles despite it hurting because it's "just right". A hard massage does wonders for your body, and you feel so much more relaxed after. We find some of you weird folk enjoying spankings. A bee sting would hurt me, but a lover's bite would arouse me. I find it interesting. 

I think we all have had scabs that we pick at. They're just right, they might be a bit too early and bleed but it feels like just enough discomfort to be the most comfortable thing in the world. We continue to pick at them, even if it hurts too much because it's somewhat addicting. Sometimes they continue to bleed and then it's quite annoying but no matter what we keep going back. The thing is those scabs can very quickly turn into scars. Things that won't ever heal again. 

I've found myself in a similar loop of actions with my depression. I think engaging your emotions is incredibly important, but so is letting go of them. I continue to poke and prod at it, until my eyes well up much like the scabs I pick to do. I'm worried that I may have already caused these wounds to scar. 

Goodnight

#writing #Introversions #Pain #Depression #scars #self improvement #guidance

[tons-of-vball-huns]

could u maybe do a post thats kenma x male reader (or gender neutral, whatever you’re comfortable with !!) where the reader and kenma are hanging out together at kenmas house, and the reader realizes they like him bc he asks to hold their face bc their eyes are so pretty <3 idk just rlly wholesome cutsey affectionate non sexual face holding

like hand on ur cheeks <3 and like kenma asks to hug the reader bc they get really uncomfortable w hugs but they feel okay to get hugged that day

i hope youre having a good day, and if you’re not, hopefully you find time to do something u enjoy :)

sorry my brain is scattered 😭/gen

[a/n: wait that sounds so cute! i have to do this asap because Y E S. thanks for the request, anon! also, i’m making it a gn!reader because that’s kinda like how it usually go about it and i changed it a tiny bit. btw, sorry for being late! love you, keep being you <3]

requests are open! i might be a bit late with the posting because my sat is coming up this saturday.

request is below the cut!

starring: k. kenma

type: fluff. fluffy fluffy fluff

warnings/others: unhealthy sleeping habits. weird formatting. commas galore. intended lowercase. use of “heck” and “hell”.

wc: 793 words

fun fact: kenma gets clingy and weirdly cuddly when he’s feeling tired or sleepy and even sleeps while cuddling a large dog plushie. he also takes the brain filter out and just says what he says without a thought and, in his opinion, acted like a drunk person.

fun fact: he would rather die miserably than let other people know about this. he hides the dog inside a suitcase whenever he leaves his room and has even made an elaborate plan to escape to brazil and start his life over if anyone gets even a single clue.

and if we extrapolate this data and think with common sense? you didn’t know either.

after a long day of school, you decided the best course of action was to just follow kenma home and hang out. it was a friday, and your family went out of town for the weekend, so you didn’t have to worry about returning home on time. besides, you’ve been hanging out forever, you knew no one would even bat an eye.

the two of you decided to play some video games to pass the time.

and that is how you ended up staying up until 7:37am.

one thing about kenma is that although he can easily get up at 2am to play, he has almost zero experience of staying up that long in at least 5 years. and coupled with the day before being an extra-long day — you had to write over 3 pages of notes for one class, had to run 5 laps for pe, and volleyball practice was extended until 5:30pm. he even woke up at 3am the night before to play on his console. he was rightfully more exhausted than usual.

kenma seemed to be weirder than usual to you now. he could barely keep his eyes open now, but neither could you, not after staying up for longer than 24 hours, so that definitely wasn’t it. was it the way he-

kenma placed his controller down and moved a bit closer to you, “wanna hug. can i hug you, (name)?”

you stared at him for a second. yeah, he was definitely acting strange, but he looked absolutely adorable in your opinion. his hands were outstretched, his eyes bleary and barely open, slightly furrowed brows, the tiniest hint of a pout on his cute, pink, kissable li- huh? no. where was your mind going to? you shook your head, “sure? i don’t really mind.”

“i’m happy you said you didn’t mind,” kenma muttered, nuzzling into your neck. “you always said you didn’t really like them so i was a bit worried you wouldn’t wanna.”

you awkwardly patted his back once, twice. this felt like a hallucination, what the heck was even happening? kenma never seemed to be the type to ask for hugs — usually, it was kuroo who was the one who asked for hugs. and you usually weren’t entirely comfortable with hugs, so why the hell did you say you “didn’t really mind”? and why was your cheek a little… warm? the ac was on full-blast, it doesn’t make sense! staying up for 24+ hours does some things to you.

beside you, kenma had stopped snuggling into your neck and moved a tiny bit farther, “hey hey (name)? is it alright if i… hold your face?” he noticed the puzzled look on your face, “it’s just that… your eyes look pretty, like super pretty. i wanna take a closer look. so can i?”

you tentatively nodded your head a little, still super confused. kenma’s face broke into a cute little smile as he shuffled closer to you and put his hands on your cheeks and pulled your face closer, his hands squishing your cheeks in the process. his hands felt incredibly cold against your warm, warm cheeks. you let out an involuntary shiver at the different temperatures.

“woahhh. so pretty, (name). your eyes look really pretty. i wanna keep looking at them forever,” he said, transfixed by your eyes.

you honestly thought your eyes weren’t all that special — you saw them daily so they kinda lost their appeal to you. maybe that was why you felt that feeling in your chest and stomach — fluttering, fluttering, fluttering like pretty little butterflies —, you never thought they looked pretty so maybe that’s why felt so flustered, your cheeks turning warmer, warmer, warmer? or maybe — you looked into kenma’s warm, excited eyes as he was squishing your cheeks and giggling and rambling about your “beautiful eyes” and how much he loved them — was it because it was him?

three months later, you still loved to tease him about that moment, watching his cheeks turn scarlet in an instant. but however embarrassing it was for him, he was glad it happened.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #kenma #kenma kozume #kozume kenma #anime #kenma x reader #kenma x male reader #kenma x gender neutral reader #kenma x you #kenma hcs #kenma x y/n #kenma x female reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu hcs #kenma headcanons #kenma scenario #haikyuu kenma #haikyuu x you #haikyuu kenma kozume #haikyuu kenma x reader #hq scenarios #hq fluff #hq headcanons