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#don't mind me just procrastinating on. . .an assignment :)
across-stars · 5 months
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images that cleanse your skin
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cosmicloved · 2 years
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i love my little celebrity muses but i have to admit that i often have to be very careful with the starters i write for them so they don’t end up feeling like THIS
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noxtivagus · 1 year
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workaholic..
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reachartwork · 6 months
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how to write fight scenes
many people have told me that Chum has good fight scenes. a small subset of those people have asked me on advice for how to write fight scenes. i am busy procrastinating, so i have distilled my general ethos on fight scenes into four important points. followed by a homework assignment.
Fight scenes take place on two axii - the physical and the intellectual. For the most interesting fight scenes, neither character should have a full inventory of the other's abilities, equipment, fighting style, etc. This gives you an opportunity to pull out surprises, but, more importantly, turns each fight into a jockeying of minds, as all characters involved have to puzzle out what's going on in real time. This is especially pertinent for settings with power systems. It feels more earned if the characters are trying to deduce the limitations and reach of the opponent's power rather than the opponent simply explaining it to them (like in Bleach. Don't do that). 1a. Have characters be incorrect in their assumptions sometimes, leading to them making mistakes that require them to correct their internal models of an opponent under extreme pressure. 1b. If you really have to have a character explain their powers to someone there should be a damn good reason for it. The best reason is "they are lying". The second best reason is "their power requires it for some reason".
Make sure your blows actually have weight. When characters are wailing at each other for paragraphs and paragraphs and nothing happens, it feels like watching rock 'em sock 'em robots. They beat each other up, and then the fight ends with a decisive blow. Not interesting! Each character has goals that will influence what their victory condition is, and each character has a physical body that takes damage over the course of a fight. If someone is punched in the gut and coughs up blood, that's an injury! It should have an impact on them not just for the fight but long term. Fights that go longer than "fist meets head, head meets floor" typically have a 'break-down' - each character getting sloppier and weaker as they bruise, batter, and break their opponent, until victory is achieved with the last person standing. this keeps things tense and interesting.
I like to actually plan out my fight scenes beat for beat and blow for blow, including a: the thought process of each character leading to that attempted action, b: what they are trying to do, and c: how it succeeds or fails. In fights with more than two people, I like to use graph paper (or an Excel spreadsheet with the rows turned into squares) to keep track of positions and facings over time.
Don't be afraid to give your characters limitations, because that means they can be discovered by the other character and preyed upon, which produces interesting ebbs and flows in the fight. A gunslinger is considerably less useful in a melee with their gun disarmed. A swordsman might not know how to box if their sword is destroyed. If they have powers, consider what they have to do to make them activate, if it exhausts them to use, how they can be turned off, if at all. Consider the practical applications. Example: In Chum, there are many individuals with pyrokinetic superpowers, and none of them have "think something on fire" superpowers. Small-time filler villain Aaron McKinley can ignite anything he's looking at, and suddenly the fight scenes begin constructing themselves, as Aaron's eyes and the direction of his gaze become an incredibly relevant factor.
if you have reached this far in this essay I am giving you homework. Go watch the hallway fight in Oldboy and then novelize it. Then, watch it again every week for the rest of your life, and you will become good at writing fight scenes.
as with all pieces of advice these are not hard and fast rules (except watching the oldboy hallway fight repeatedly) but general guidelines to be considered and then broken when it would produce an interesting outcome to do so.
okay have a good day. and go read chum.
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caraphernellie · 4 months
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cowboy like me // e.w. [chapter one]
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summary: a modern day princess living under outdated royal protocol in which your own existence is forbidden. in a typical state visit to strengthen your country's relations with the united states, you find it harder than ever to keep your sexuality secret when you meet the president's daughter, ellie williams, and sparks fly.
wc: 2.1k masterlist
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content warnings: fluff, angst, eventual smut. homophobia, governments, monarchy, politics. reader is specified as lesbian with she/her pronouns used for plot purposes i sorry, smoking, making out, femme! reader. u-haul lesbians fr. reader plays piano. ellie is a disaster lesbian lmaooooo. she's also super privileged and a bit of an ass. mostly based off of the british royal family in terms of royal protocol and all that shit, don’t kill me if things are inaccurate i’m not american, this chapter is more an intro to ellie's character and establishing tension
authors note: i'm so excited about this fic... but i might hate it in the morning so we'll see!! i've never read/watched red white and royal blue but it did inspire this fic (do not expect it to be anything like rwrb as i said i don't know what happens in it lmao). ellie's the president's daughter obvs. if your country doesn't have a monarchy just pretend there is one. if you're from the us then L 💀 play pretend
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converse sneakers pelting across marble tiled floors with an onslaught of urgency, ellie makes her way through the halls. she stops at a mirror for a second, a muse in her mind– eh, good enough.
smoothing down flyaway hairs, ellie realises spending free time in the courtyard outside may not have been the best idea on a cool spring day such as this. the winter is still lingering, breezes battering the flag of red, white, and blue on the roof of the building as warm temperatures are still fresh. still- she needs as much a distraction as anyone else. as if procrastinating on something like homework, assignments, except the only thing ellie has done is make herself late to the introductory banquet of the royal family. all she knows is the president won’t be happy with her. 
bringing her wrist to her nose, ellie sniffs, though it’s less sniffing and more inhaling, trying to figure out if she has masked the smell of the cigarette she wasted or if she needs more cologne.
ellie’s caught by a housekeeper with her face stuck awkwardly into her suit jacket, furrowed brows as she inspects her own scent. pausing, a strained smile takes its place on chapped lips.
“he–”
“goodness, miss williams, you’re terribly late,” the housekeeper says, quickly approaching. “staff have been searching everywhere for you.”
“right,” ellie mumbles, straightening up her posture. “sorry. i’ll be on my way to the state dining room right now.”
approaching said room, ellie can already hear the fuss– loud and polite conversations, the snapping of photos, subtle classical playing over the speakers. christ, ellie thinks, how do i render myself invisible?
ellie’s worries ease the minute she steps inside, however, as the commotion isn’t around her own family today. it’s the royal family. and that realisation almost sparks up yet another mini freakout in ellie’s mind. she’s been looking forward to this for weeks, of course she has, a hot princess living in her home for an entire month..? that’s something she could get used to. but it’s real now, and just staring at you is sending a chill down ellie’s spine.
flash photography and yelling of the invited press is suffocating ellie as she ventures further into the room. she hasn’t even been noticed yet, thank god, so she decides to humbly busy herself at the table of finger food. until–
“ellie williams?”
a delicate voice smooth and sweet, ellie’s ears prick up to the sound of an accent unique and she knows exactly who this has to be.
fuck.
ellie makes quick effort to swallow the stupid cocktail frank she was eating and turns around, wiping her clammy hands on the ass of her slacks.
a princess standing right in front of her, of course these things only happen to ellie in her most cringeworthy moments. demolishing a table of finger food… what can she say? she’s an anxious snacker.
“ah-” ellie’s eyes meet your own and she gulps, extending a hand. “a pleasure to meet you, princess…”
get your head in the game, ellie. she clears her throat, putting on her famous, confident smile. and as you place your hand in hers, she acts purely without thinking, lifting your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. nobody was watching, but ellie drops your hand in an instant- is flirting with a princess the right move? even if it’s humorous?
your brain just about short-circuits, and ellie’s reeling. that was stupid, so stupid. acting on total whim.
the collar of ellie’s shirt feels too tight as she observes the split-second utter shock in your eyes, though she relaxes as you reward her a smile. and it isn’t that typical, media-trained smile, either.
“charming,” you murmur in response, eyes fixed on ellie’s piercing greens. however delighted you might be to be treated in this way by a girl like ellie, the way in which you hide it is effortless.
and charming, of course, is exactly what ellie is. messy, shirt creased and hair tousled and she honestly reeks of expensive cologne and faint smoke – but she has that handsome smile and that confident demeanour that the girls of washington d.c. fall for so easily.
“i hope so,” ellie says with an awkward chuckle, shoving her hands into her pockets. “that’s the aim of the game.”
you laugh similarly, politely, and make it as clear as possible to glance ellie up and down. “i’ll play.”
and the look on ellie’s face is plain silly at the least, her brows furrowed and eyes wide. “wh- uh..”
“say, it’s a little stuffy in here,” you say, gently fanning yourself, “you wouldn’t happen to know of any quiet spaces we could disappear to?”
ellie’s lips form a small o-shape as she processes the question. you want to be alone with her. a smirk crosses ellie’s face and she nods, “absolutely, your highness. my office.”
“would you be so kind as to show me to it?”
“of course, follow me,” ellie nods her head to the direction of the door. “we’ll have to sneak around.”
your heels click against the floor while ellie leads you down the hall, the sound a constant reminder to her that you’re actually walking alongside her. approaching a large door adorned by a gold plate with ellie’s name carved into it, she pulls a key from her pocket. and yet her eyes are on you the whole time.
the door clicks open and ellie holds it for you, only for her face to turn red when met with the sight of her office.
“excuse the mess,” she mutters, closing and locking the door behind the two of you. “i was uh, in here late last night. i had a speech to work on.”
“it’s alright,” you say, “some organised mess makes it homely.”
“right,” ellie nods. she’s beyond sensical thought now, just going along with anything you say. try harder. this is ellie’s issue, she eggs herself on too much, gets too overzealous, does things for the sake of doing them because her life has quite literally no direction if she doesn’t set herself these impossible dares. “just take a seat anywhere if you like. the couch is pretty comfy.”
ellie makes a pointless attempt to tidy some papers on her desk. she doesn’t necessarily do a lot of work here, though she enjoys being an activist, often writing speeches and finding causes to help others. though it did only begin in the first place as a way to increase the votes for her father’s party during the election- that doesn’t mean it isn’t genuine!
it’s just that ellie’s lazy ass needs pressure to do these things.
she gnaws her lower lip between her teeth for a moment, watching as you sit on the two-seater, eyeing the guitars along the wall of the office. “you play?”
“hm? no,” you say, watching ellie take a warm toned acoustic and sit beside you. “i’m a pianist, though.”
“pianist?” ellie chuckles, thumb stroking over each string of the guitar. “you’ll have to play for me sometime.”
you nod, watching intently as ellie begins playing a quiet tune. she can’t help but notice your rigid, straight posture. she can’t tell if you just have great posture, or if you’re uncomfortable.
but, noticing your eyes lingering over her nimble fingers as they pick at the guitar, ellie’s lips curl upwards just slightly.
she knows well when she’s got a girl worked up. she’d never expected the princess to be this easy.
“music is just beautiful,” you say with a small nod, again, that genuine smile small as ever on your lips insecurely. “nothing like it.”
“you think so?” ellie muses, and when you manage to finally stray your eyes from her hands, you meet ellie’s own soft gaze. “because i think… even the most beautiful ballad couldn’t compare to the solid view i got right now.”
you scoff, turning quiet as heat fills your cheeks. your brows furrow as you tilt your head a nod to the side, studying ellie’s features, searching for any hint of dishonesty. and it’s like she can tell that, with your gaze silently begging her to not be messing with you- she turns her expression more serious.
“you’re something else, williams,” you retort, though adjusting yourself a little closer. knees touch, and you don’t flinch away.
“yeah?” ellie grins. the room goes silent, ellie no longer continuing to play her tune. the guitar on her lap, she rests her chin over it. “something good, or something bad?”
there’s a more subtle smirk on her face now. she begins to move, setting the guitar down and leaning it against the couch as she shifts even closer.
“mmm…” you think for a moment, a smaller expression of interest visible across your features. “something that my head tells me is not a good idea, but my heart says is just fine.”
how the fuck did i get here, ellie wonders? she’s running on pure luck at this point. stumbled in late and somehow she’s got a princess way in over her head.
and ellie doesn’t leave you waiting a moment longer– the second you lean closer she’s grabbing your head and meeting your lips in a fervent kiss, one you gasp into and immediately lean into, hands falling into place with one on her chest and the other on the back of her neck.
pulling away breathlessly, ellie chuckles a bit and shrugs her shoulders, “eh- oops?” she looks almost embarrassed by her own reckless act. “sorry.”
there’s too much going on for you– just too much in your head. your first kiss, the first other lesbian you’ve ever met. her words get you weak in the knees, yet she gets just as flustered by her own actions which seem to only ever work on impulse. so you start laughing, and you can’t stop.
ellie herself laughs a little, watching you giggle at her pink face as you lean into the back of the couch and hold up a cushion to hide your face. it’s all snorting and snickering and ellie’s face is getting redder.
she snatches the cushion out of your hands and raises a brow at you, “if you keep being that cute i’m gonna–”
“sorry,” you laugh, “sorry-”
ellie can’t help but notice how much it seems like you really needed this laughing fit, the way it’s instantly relaxed you…
“that’s it,” she mutters with a chuckle, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer. “c’mere.”
the yelp of surprise that ellie’s movement elicits has her beaming, holding you on her lap. she rests a hand on the back of your head, the other cupping your ass. it’s indecent, indelicate to touch a princess like that, and yet you’re not stopping her. ellie’s already found herself addicted.
because this time ellie lets herself just go, pressing her lips to yours. she swipes her tongue over your bottom lip, grunting as you gasp. with your lips parted she slips her tongue into the kiss. she isn’t just kissing you, she’s devouring. she’s making sure not to leave an inch of your mouth unexplored, nor will she allow it for your body, getting rather handsy. every pretty little sound you breathe motivates her to continue, pulling you back in every time you pull back for air.
a hand slides under your dress, gripping your thigh, the other squeezes your breast before gliding to the curve of your ass, and she slumps into the couch. her boxers are growing uncomfortably wet and she needs to do something about it, hold you down on her desk and–
a key turns in the door and her eyes snap open, as do yours. not a single word is said but the panicked look you share tells all as you move back onto the couch beside ellie, smoothing down your dress. she grabs her forgotten guitar and moves it onto her lap.
and in mere seconds, the door opens to reveal a housekeeper who had used the master key to get in. and she’s clueless, though a little discomforted by the taut smiles you and ellie offer.
“sorry to interrupt you, ladies,” she offers awkwardly. “nobody has seen either of you in a long time, it was requested by president williams that we search the place.”
“ah,” ellie muses, clearing her throat before her voice can come out as weak as it feels. “i understand. we’re alright, yes, sorry, um… we needed a quiet place.”
sitting there with that prim and proper posture once again, your leg crossed over the other, you stare at ellie, resisting the urge to reach over right now and fix her hair after having ran your hands through it with desperation.
this is going to be an interesting state visit.
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tag list (msg me or find my tag list in my pinned post if u want to be tagged!!): @dinasvampgf
🙈🙈 omg this fic..
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0oolookitsme · 3 months
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It's Buzzcut Season, Anyways!
Eeeeekk!!!! Hi Hi everyone!! I hope you are all doing well, here comes the first post of the year! <3
So.. It is my birthday today, and I'm very excited to tell you that I'm introducing to you, another one of my pairings! This a little excerpt from the fic (wip) I'm writing about this chaotic pairing, and I really do hope this gets you as excited about their story, as I am! This was supposed to be up in December but for some reason, I didn't post it?? Anyways, other than that, you shall see more, further on in 2024 :)
Also, shoutout to @cupid-styles and @elioslover for picking my ice hockey!Harry to be the one to get a buzzcut, hahah! My indecisive self (who lowkey wanted you guys to pick him), could've never 💗
All the love always, A.
Verse - NHL Player!Harry x Figure Skater!Y/n (uni era)
Word Count - It's just an excerpt so it's short!
Warnings - None that I can find but if there are any, do tell me and I'll edit them into this!
Y/n is reluctantly trimming Harry's hair when her nose feels funny, and she sneezes. Its good though, that Harry asks for her opinion regarding a change that he would rather appreciate.
Please rb to share! | Masterlist
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Y/n sat on her unmade bed, hair unbrushed and messy since she woke up from a 3-hour nap. Her fingers typed away on her laptop, her face showing zero signs of any stress regarding the assignment she's going to have to turn in un-edited.
Probably because of the breakdown she'd had before taking nap. She'd been so stressed that she had drawn blood from her lips and broken two of her nails -- which was rather disappointing to her considering she'd got them done not so long ago in the honour of the upcoming season of winter.
The temperature was still as hot as summer, but half of the world was snowed in, and she wanted the peace of mind that winter brought her; so, she deluded herself into thinking that it was indeed her favourite time of the year.
A silent burp made its way up her throat, as she drank the day-old diet coke she'd been drinking before her meltdown-that-leads-to-an-amazing-nap.
Just as she slurped on the last sip that wasn't anything but melted ice, she heard the door to the flat open and her eyes rose up just in time to catch the sight of a sweaty and out of breath Harry, through the open door of her room.
"Y/n?" He called for her, walking towards her room when she only hummed in response. He passed her an apologetic smile on reaching her doorframe, and she knew he was going to ask something of her that the both of them know she wouldn't be willing to do quite easily.
"I need your help," he grinned at her. "...And Immediately."
She looked at him suspiciously, before deciding to shift her focus back on her assignment, knowing that he would lure her in if she were to continue looking at him.
But Harry was at once kneeling beside the side of bed she was sitting on. With his hands joined, he contorted his face in a way that looked like he was about to cry. "I beg of you, please! If you don't help me right now, my life will be ruined forever!"
Y/n's eyes had fallen into untrusting slits by now as she minimized the document that she had been writing in. "What is it, Harry?" She asked him in a monotonous tone, shutting her laptop as if procrastinating the essay any longer would be a great help.
"Cut my hair."
Instantly her jaw dropped open. Shaking her head, she began reopening her laptop and Harry took a hold of her wrists. "Harry, there's no way!" She yelped as he began making her get off the bed.
"I'm not asking you to give me haircut like Zayn!" He exclaimed, as if that'd ease her. "Just trim it a bit," he shrugged, walking out into the small living-room with Y/n thrashing behind him. She even threw a few hands at him, but he had a feeling that she wasn't as opposed by the idea as she was pretending to.
He pulled out a chair in front of the mirror that, though they had been living in this flat for nearly two months, had yet to be pinned to the wall. "C'mon, you work at a salon -- surely you know how to trim a guy's hair," he teased her, knowing that questioning her abilities would get to her and she'd cut his hair better than any hairdresser ever could.
Looking at her reflection glaring at him through the mirror, he winked at her before bending down to unzip his bag. He pulled out an electric trimmer from inside it and handed it to her, pulling the towel from the coffee table that he had left there earlier in the morning.
Once done draping it over his shoulders, he handed her the trimmer and added a touch of his puppy-dog eyes even though he knew they simply don't work on her.
"Okay. If you end up bald, don't complain then," she grumbled before running her hand through his hair. "Is this sweat or did you wash your hair after practice?" Her face was already contorted in disgust, like she knew he surely couldn't have done the latter.
"Don't you worry, I washed it after practice," he assured her, looking at her as if she should appreciate him.
She turned on the trimmer and held his hair in sections by one of her hands. "Why didn't you go to a salon?" She asked him, trimming the hair on his sides with her mouth parted.
Harry shrugged and immediately retorted when Y/n shrieked, mumbling an apology. "The salon's too far. I don't have the time to get there; got a handful of assignments to turn in before midnight." He told her. "And I mean, saving some money never hurt anyone."
"You do realize that I've put doing my assignment on pause to do this silly shenanigan with you?" Her eyebrows rose up as she fired another question at him. She suppressed a smile when he passed a dimpled-lopsided grin to her. "God, I hate you," she said, and a smile slipped on her lips as she moved to the other side to trim the rest of his hair.
She had no reason to be doing a parttime job at a salon, it wasn't going to help her in the future in any way, but it did help her in the present with its money. The money she got by being apprenticed to a dance company went straight into the flat-bills and some other necessary purchases that she couldn't avoid.
But she wasn't complaining about it. Living among frat people was a nightmare for her. She did have fun with people but being a clean-freak and a morning person didn't match well with the frats. They did love her dearly, but when Harry came in asking if someone would be willing to be his flat mate, everyone had chanted for Y/n. And, when he asked Y/n at the rink, she had quite literally jumped at the opportunity and in the joy of the moment, hugged Harry with a tight grip that still had his heartbeat rise whenever he thought about it.
With her touching his hair, Harry's heart was beating so hard in his chest that he was afraid it was going to break a rib. His eyes never once left her reflection in the mirror, not with the way she was being so careful and serious. Her lips had parted without her knowing, and she wasn't even blinking often enough.
That was when Harry saw a hair-strand fall in her face, and her face scrunch up in a way it does when she's about to sneeze. He saw as she turned to sneeze in her elbow -- a habit that she still hadn't gotten rid of. He shifted his gaze down on his hands in his lap, to prevent her catching him staring at her.
When Y/n caught her breath after the sneeze, her eyes grew wide. Her hand began shaking as she brought the other hand to cover her mouth, looking at his head in horror. She wasn't sure if she should laugh or begin spewing apologies and decided on the latter one.
But as she opened her mouth, Harry looked at her. "Should I just buzz it off?" He questioned her and thought that she had paled at the thought of him going bald. "I mean, the match season is finally over. I don't have anything to do but study, do my parttime and of course practice hockey." He shrugged explaining his point of view, looking at her to help him decided.
"S-sure! I mean, you'd look good with any-any type of haircut." She was shaking and stuttering, but Harry was too lost in his train of thoughts to question her. "A-and its buzzcut season, anyways!"
That seemed to be helpful for Harry. He smiled at her, "Shave it off, then. I'm basically on vacation from tomorrow... and I guess I'd really appreciate a change like this!" He was back to grinning and Y/n's sweat was beginning to cool off.
She imagined sitting with Harry on a sofa on some ordinary-night with her feet in his lap like he were her closest friend and telling him about today -- a movie playing on the lowest volume possible in the background. She stopped herself before she could get lost thinking about his reaction and mess up even his buzzcut.
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zombie-bait · 5 months
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Omg i just realized I have something tiny to add to the whole James Somerton debacle. I'm currently watching the hbombguy vid (as you do when procrastinating assignments) and I remembered something that stood out to me in James' old videos.
So I used to be a fan of his stuff. I am also a fan of Hannibal and IWTV. He made a video covering both so naturally I was very hyped. It was called 'The Gay Appeal of Toxic Love.' The vid itself was fine (I don't remember having any super strong opinions of it besides being excited to hear ppl mention Interview cuz I had recently become obsessed) but one thing did stand out to me. In the IWTV section he mentions Nicki and, naturally, his death:
"After becoming a vampire, Nicky becomes nearly catatonic, and eventually slips away from Lestat entirely. And after centuries of dealing with depression and severe mental illness, Nicky kills himself."
(sourced from this transcript: https://github.com/TerraJRiley/James_Somerton_Transcripts/blob/main/Transcripts/The%20Gay%20Appeal%20of%20Toxic%20Love.txt)
To anyone who's read TVL, I don't think I need to explain that Nicki had not, in fact, been around for centuries. "Nicki had lived to be 30" has been rattling around in my head since I first read it.
And like, obviously I don't expect every youtube essayist to read several long-ish novels to have a full grasp of the series' deep lore, especially when the focus was largely on IWTV and Loustat rather than the entire Vampire Chronicles. Still, it makes you wonder a bit about the quality of the research being done here. You can find the proper info in like, 5 seconds by just going on the fan wiki so I'm not sure what his sources were. And that's the issue at hand, isn't it?
At the time I felt a tiny bit smug recognizing the error but in light of everything that's been revealed, it's kind of telling. I'm not saying this part was plagiarized (I haven't found anything but others on reddit have found issues with different sections of the same video) but rereading the transcript it comes off as someone who clearly doesn't know much about Interview.... It feels like he's reading through a loose summary of plot points rather than analyzing a piece of media that actually means anything to him. It's very much Interview for people who don't know Interview which, one could argue is fair. Especially beyond book one, VC is a niche series and a lot of elements that are important to certain characters or plot lines cannot be summarized quickly for an audience unfamiliar with it. A good writer, who's done a lot of research about the specific topic they have chosen to make a video on, would be able to balance this. There is a LOT to analyze about queerness in VC and its a shame to see one of the more popular queer media channels half-assing it just to churn out videos heavily made up of other people's work. In retrospect he had several videos like that, where he would discuss things like manga/manhua communities while clearly having little knowledge on the nuance of those subjects. He was an outsider who presented himself with a strange amount of authority.
This was content created with the sole intention of propping up queer stories and history, yet it's built off stolen work from queer authors and doesn't actually care that much about exploring the communities it features. Vids like the IWTV one weren't really fact checked because it's only people like me who would might give a shit or even notice anything is off in the first place. There's a bit of a similar vibe in some of his other vids where he undermines the experiences of queer women because he clearly has not taken the time to learn about the nuances of representing queer women in media. These are things that irritated me when I first started to notice them but I put those concerns in the back of my mind because I cared about the topics he was covering and was excited to see these discussions becoming more mainstream.
The revelations of this evening have been disappointing to say the least.
(also for the record I know he made other more recent vids about IWTV but I haven't seen those and even if his account was still up I don't think I would lol
BUT
I did look at the transcript for his 'Vampires and the Gays Who Love Them' video (found from the same link I included above) and this quote about the IWTV AMC show is sending me: "Daniel has never grappled with the complexities of being gay"
Shoutout to straight, uncomplicated icon Daniel Molloy. Devil's Minion was a mass hallucination, spread the word)
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vinxhwrites · 5 months
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I've had this idea in my drafts for a long time and only finished it today because I was procrastinating on the many many assignments I have for this week. I've never written smut before so I don't know what I'm doing, also I'm very sleepy so maybe it sucks, but here it is:
ghost x f!reader x soap
nsfw, +18
word count: 8.2k
cw: nsfw! lots of fluff, tiniest bit of h/c, smut in the end, unprotected sex (don't do it!); alcohol consumption, quite long descriptions of anxieties I guess; also not proofread, sorry
You enjoyed existing in the liminal space between something romantic and something purely friendly. You wanted to get to know every aspect of love, feel it from all directions, in all its forms.
You always wondered what exactly was the tipping point to make one thing turn into another. You wondered if it even existed, if experience could ever be restrained to one set type of relationship, if love could be divided into sections, named and labeled, put into existence and then put to death once things ended, instead of just being the overflowing unconditional force that you hoped it was.
In reality, of course, love can't be limited or restrained by words that aim to define, control or organize it. In practice, you've found it within yourself as something stronger, more nuanced, and freeing than you could've ever hoped it would be.
Ghost first heard Soap refer to you as his "nap buddy" over breakfast one day. He frowned, the first thought to cross his mind being whether the two of you were skipping work to take naps. But Soap went on, telling Gaz about how he'd been creeping into your bed at night when he couldn't sleep. "I feel like a baby, I swear" Ghost overheard him say "she'll just tell me stories until I fall asleep."
It all had started almost two months prior to that conversation, when you bumped into Soap in the corridor one night. You were both sleepy but suffering from insomnia. He shared little tips with you on what usually helped him: walking around, counting sheep, breath exercises; although he admitted this time none of it was working.
You explained your problem was the crippling anxiety that came with the insomnia sessions. You hated being alone with your thoughts during the dark moments of the night, which filled you with unreasonable angst.
You two walked around outside for a while. It was a cold night and you both started to shiver a bit. Soap rubbed his hand on your back in an attempt to warm you, but you concluded it was best to go back to your rooms. Then, as you approached your door, right beside his, you had an idea:
"Hey, I hope this doesn't sound too weird...but would you like to try to sleep with me?"
He smiled at you and accepted the invite.
At that moment, you navigated the perfect moment of sleepiness when rational thoughts can barely form, all that is left are the primary ideas, informed only by your senses and memories. The anxious voices of decent social conduct are far too tired to interject with your thoughts at this point. Anything can seem appropriate, nothing feels real and there is true bliss to be found somewhere.
That's why it felt so natural to curl up in bed with Soap that night, you rested your head on his shoulder and he held your hand. He caressed your hair before saying something nice about the way you smelled and closed his eyes. You surely talked for a bit, in whispers, but neither of you would be able to recall what the conversation was about if someone asked. And just like that, both of you were able to fall asleep in a few minutes of comfort.
It quickly developed into a habit for difficult nights, you now depended on these moments as if they were some kind of medicine. It surely didn't make the issue go away completely for either of you, but it sure was nice to find some comfort in each other's company. Having someone to talk to was a good distraction from your racing thoughts, it was easier to relax when you were with him. Plus, he didn't seem to mind how you jumped effortlessly from one topic to another, talking about anything that came to mind.
Soon, Soap started looking for you even before trying to fall asleep by himself, "preventive care" he explained with a smile when you'd open the door relatively early at night, looking a bit puzzled. You got into the habit of telling him stories, real and made-up, creating nice scenarios for his dreams.
You've let him kiss you a few times, but it never really went much further than that, even though it was no secret that he liked you as a bit more than a friend.
Part of the reason for your contentment with kisses was that both of you were almost always too tired to invest in more than that, but part of it was because of your resistance to changing your relationship dynamic. What you had built with him felt so stable in its tenderness that you were scared to risk losing it.
You've always felt, previously in life, that sex complicated things. Especially with men, especially when you thought they were your friends first, to later be heartbroken by the fact that they really just wanted to fuck you, and had no love to give. You really wished it would be different with him.
But Soap was well-versed in love, he wasn't scared of it. He fully embraced it, actually. Sometimes, while you played with your fingers through his hair, he'd make a point of telling you about his love, the depths of it, how much he could give you of it if you'd let him.
"But it's perfect like this" you cried, anytime he brought up the topic of sex, fearing the inevitable low after the high. Yet, to him sex was irremovable from love, it was the best way he knew how to demonstrate it.
He once told you that you made him feel like a teenager again, saying you were like his prudish high school girlfriend.
The furthest you've gone at this point was letting him finger you one night, just because he begged and whined so much. "I need to feel you" he said, out of breath from kissing you, and you just couldn't resist. It wasn't like you didn't desire him, you were scared doing it would make you want him more. And it did.
He licked his own fingers afterward, which made a moan escape from your mouth. He kissed you again before resting his head on your shoulder. Didn't ask for anything in return. Soap was a lover by definition. And the fact that he respected your boundaries made you treasure him even more.
"You know you can sleep with other people, right?" you assured him, afraid that he'd resent you if you kept him waiting.
"Yeah, but it's not the same thing" he replied.
You were on a first-name basis now, you called him Johnny and, when the two of you were alone, he called you "baby", even letting it slip in front of other people sometimes.
Ghost reprehended you for it one day when he heard it. Not Johnny, you. It was inadequate, he said, and made you apologize to him.
You thought Ghost was scary. It was in a similar manner to which you used to think your linguistics professor at University was scary: in a hot, sexy but very menacing way. You desired his approval and had the impression that you were never going to get it. His mere presence made your legs weak. Maybe it was the authority aspect that messed with your mind, or at least that's what you tried to justify to yourself.
He intimidated you more than anyone, constantly making you feel inadequate just by looking at you. It felt unfair to not even be able to see him properly most of the time, it made you feel naked in every interaction when he could see you so clearly. And on top of that, there was the constant staring: You were always under his watch if he was around as if he was constantly waiting for you to do something wrong. Plus, he seemed to be way more critical of you than he was of others, always questioning you or anything you did, and complaining about your skills or your lack of punctuality (even if you were late by just a minute).
"I think he hates me," you told Johnny one day. "I really do".
He chuckled in response. "He doesn't hate you. He's just really bad at expressing...anything"
"I think he's really good at expressing his hatred for me" you whined back "He doesn't treat you as badly".
"Well, baby, but you can't compete with me!" he smirked proudly "He loves me".
The truth is Ghost loved hearing you say "I'm sorry, sir" in a soft and exhausted voice, it tickled something inside him that he couldn't quite name. It was equally exciting and disturbing to him. But you didn't know that, which is why it caught you by surprise when he showed up at your door one night, as you were about to fall asleep.
Ghost wasn't one to sleep together, not even with the random people he had sex with on occasion. Sleep had always been a solitary activity to him, something he struggled with by himself.
The idea of having someone to sleep with, of it being such a comfort hadn't left his mind ever since he heard John talking about it at the table weeks before. He started to catch himself fantasizing about it, thinking about the warmth of having someone's body so close to him, if it'd be something to shield him from his nightmares. He started to wonder about how soft your skin must feel.
It was a foreign feeling to him, this yearning for something so intimate, but it got to a point where he just had to try it.
"Ghost?" you were confused. He wore sweatpants and a long-sleeved grey t-shirt, and still had a black balaclava on. He closed the door behind him.
"Johnny said you let him sleep with you sometimes" he cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable.
"Right" you responded, waiting for him to scold you for it. But he just stood there in silence "Would you like to sleep here too...?" you guessed amused after he let the silence hang for a bit too long.
He took a deep breath, "May I?" he asked.
"Sure, come here." you moved closer to the wall to make space for him. You couldn't help but smile as you felt him sit down on your bed, the heat coming from his body already making you want to get closer.
"You know I don't have sex with him, right?"
"I didn't come here for sex" he answered immediately, sounding almost offended, then sighed "I can't sleep''.
"OK" you said, already regretting having opened your mouth in the first place.
He laid down on his back beside you exhausted and took a deep breath. He removed his balaclava and put it on your nightstand. You noticed you were holding your breath, terrified of ruining this moment of intimacy.
"You'd better not snore" he said in a low voice, adjusting himself on your pillow with a hand behind his head and the other on his chest.
You chuckled a bit, letting yourself relax by his side. "I don't snore." you assured him "at least, not that I know of".
Ghost didn't answer you this time, and even in the dark you could see he had closed his eyes.
"Permission to touch you, sir?" you asked in a whisper after a few seconds of collecting your courage, craving to feel his skin.
That first night, he let you hold his hand while you two slept. It felt tiny and fragile on his. When he woke up sweating in the middle of the night, as he often did, his heart rate eased when he felt your presence by his side, it did feel different.
He avoided you like the plague for three days straight after that night, you thought he'd never look at you again. You thought you've done something wrong and scared him away. In reality, he was scared he'd poisoned himself by getting a taste of something so novel to him, and feared he'd become addicted to it.
He tried to go back to his regular routine, but now the emptiness of his bedroom felt even more evident, his bed felt colder. Then, when you were starting to become at peace with the anxiety that had built up in your stomach at this point, he showed up at your door again.
This time he didn't say anything after you agreed to let him in, feeling absolutely defeated. He laid on his side, his back turned to you. You asked if you could touch him once more and when he agreed you threw your arm around his torso, cuddling him. He felt a goosebump as your breath touched his back.
And he wouldn't tell you, but when he woke up he couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a good night of sleep.
You told Johnny about it the next day as casually as possible, fearing to find a trace of jealousy in his eyes. But instead, they seemed to brighten with delight. "See, I told you he didn't hate you" he smiled.
For the next few weeks, your lieutenant started being kinder to you, albeit in his own way. He stopped reprehending you for stupid reasons, gave you a little pat on the back when you did well during training, and even made you a cup of tea once when he heard Gaz comment that you had a cold one day, putting it in front of you at the table and walking away without saying a word.
You discovered him to be someone more playful than you previously imagined, witty even. The affection you had for him grew stronger with each passing day, as your impression of him morphed into something new, and you just couldn't keep it to yourself. But, unlike Johnny, who loved being touched, Ghost had serious boundaries. Most times you could tell you'd overstepped. He'd let you know it immediately: removing your hand from his face if you touched it, clearly stating "don't" if you ever dared to try to touch his hair, he'd move his hand away when you started to mindlessly draw circles on it with your fingers, and - the only aspect that didn't make you feel completely rejected - pushing you away slightly in bed if you ever got close enough to feel the solid volume in his pants.
For him, physical touch tended to be a utilitarian exchange: maybe he'd get a pat on the shoulder for doing a good job, he'd get kisses and caresses when someone used him for sex, he'd get injured during combat, but your touch was something new: it made no practical sense, there was no transaction to be made, no endpoint, it was just affection for the sake of affection. He didn't know what to do with it.
As your intimacy deepened, Ghost revealed to you that suffered from terrible migraines every once in a while and got into the habit of coming to sleep with you on those days, although he did complain every single time that your constant rambling on different topics made his head hurt even more. He'd retract the statement as soon as you stopped talking though.
One day, when he was in a particularly terrible mood, you offered him a massage. "What good will that do, huh?" he grunted "You just want to touch me"
You chuckled "well, that is partially true, sir" and he smiled behind his balaclava. But you insisted, proceeding to explain how the tension on his neck muscles could be causing the headaches, or at least making them worse, and that was enough to convince him to let you do it.
"It doesn't work if you don't try to relax" you said, pressing your fingers to the base of his neck. You were sitting on the bed, back rested on your pillow, with him between your legs, his back turned to you.
"I'm trying" he mumbled.
"Come on, deep breaths," you said, and you knew immediately that he was probably rolling his eyes. "Come on" you insisted patiently, massaging just the right spot on the back of his shoulders as he let out a low moan, letting his head rest forward.
"See, isn't it better?" you said enthusiastically.
"Stop talking" he grunted, which you did, continuing to massage him in silence.
It took you by surprise when you felt his thumb lightly caress your right ankle, it was a timid touch, and you felt afraid he would stop if you moved, even though that leg felt a bit numb already.
You could feel his body melt under your touch bit by bit, letting more of his weight rest on you. He forgot about his headache, only focused on the delicious slumber that took over his body now.
"You're gonna have to do this every day now" he muttered, eyes closed.
"I'll gladly do it" you assured him, treasuring the way he seemed so relaxed now. You had to fight the urge to put a kiss on his neck with all your might.
That night he held you like a pillow, resting his head on your stomach. You slowly pulled his mask up, waiting to see if there'd be any resistance, but there wasn't.
He shivered when you then touched his hair. It felt soft. You scratched his head gently with your nails and he savoured the foreign feeling that it caused.
"You little demon" he whispered, surrendering completely to your touch.
Ghost knew what love was supposed to look like. He just wasn't that sure about how it felt to receive it anymore. The more he thought about it, the more he was under the impression that he lacked the vocabulary to express it.
Once, when working in complete silence next to him, filling and writing reports, you asked:
"Can you take a look at this, sir?" you held the paper in front of him.
"You know you can call me Simon" he said, eyes still fixed on his papers.
"I didn't actually." you said and he looked at you, you could notice a quick smile appear on his eyes.
"Ok, now you know."
You smiled and he moved his gaze back to the papers in front of him.
"Can you take a look at this, Simon?" you repeated, and this time he looked up and happily took the paper from your hand.
Simon had never really tried anything besides actual sleep with you, and you were terrified of initiating it yourself and getting rejected. But sometimes you could feel the imminence of something, nothing clear or distinct, just the way the silence of the room felt different, a change in the pace of his breathing or a slight shift in the atmosphere. On these moments you'd feel like he could turn you over and fuck you at any second. It fed the anticipation in your chest, but it never happened.
You wondered, at times, if you were somehow able to read his thoughts in cryptic ways and that's how you'd know he was thinking about fucking you.
"What are you thinking about?" you asked in a whisper one of these nights.
"Why do you care?" his response was immediate, defensive. Your fantasies definitely weren't supported by his lack of attention to your romantic attempts.
"Just wondering" you shrugged. "Are you not going to tell me?"
He looked at you, and even in the dark you could tell he was smiling "No".
You prayed that he would kiss you, just a little bit would be enough. But, of course, he didn't.
"I was thinking about you, in case you were wondering," you said casually a few moments later, gazing at his face. You were getting sloppier with hiding your feelings for him, he couldn't possibly not see it.
He chuckled quietly at your response, "Stop flirting with me" he said and you felt your cheeks turn red, "you should get some sleep" he suggested then, shutting off the conversation. And, as if he intended to get you a bit more confused, he lightly caressed your hair.
Sometimes you'd wish he'd just reject you once and for all so you could move on. But the more you thought about your love the more you wanted to cultivate it and share it with him, the same way you felt you could share with Johnny. And if Simon didn't want it, so be it. It felt like, and it was, a big act of bravery on your part. At least you'd be able to comfort yourself on the fact that you loved, it grew and flourished inside you, and it was a beautiful thing.
It got to the point where one of them was occupying your bed almost every day of the week, people were starting to catch on to it. You knew the day would come when they'd both show up and the thought alone made you nauseous, at least until it actually happened.
You held your breath when you heard Johnny's steps approaching your door, even before he knocked on it.
"Come in" Simon said before you could even react.
Johnny tilted his head for a second, looking amused at the scene of his lieutenant cuddling you. He closed the door behind him and took off his slippers, then he approached your bed to lay down beside you.
You held your breath when you saw Johnny rest his neck on Simon's extended arm so nonchalantly. Simon didn't move his arm. You couldn't exactly name what is it that you feared at that moment, the next few moments of silence translated into nervousness within you. Johnny took your arm and casually put your hand on his chest.
"So," he said, looking at Simon playfully "Are you trying to steal her from me?"
Simon chuckled "Didn't know she was yours to steal".
The tension you felt was not shared between them.
"You could've come to sleep with me, lieutenant," Johnny said, he sounded almost offended that Simon would have preferred to sleep with you.
"Back at you, Johnny" he murmured, closing his eyes, making Johnny smile from ear to ear.
You knew your bed surely wasn't made for three, but you managed to make it comfortable. You woke up lying on top of Johnny like a baby, your chest to his, while Simon laid on his side with one arm thrown around you.
That night, Johnny could almost feel his heart flutter and twirl inside his chest. It was perfect. He had so much love to give, he couldn't wait to share it. To him, Love was generous and ever-giving, it was infinite, it overpowered him and he gladly let it.
To Simon, on the other hand, Love was a terrifying force he feared would take over him completely if he let it. He feared it could destroy him, or, even worse, he would destroy it. But, at moments like this one, he couldn't help but let love overflow in his heart, couldn't resist the warmth both of you shared from entering his own body.
Throughout the whole following day, you felt a sweet anticipation for something in your stomach, being only able to think about how nice it had felt to be surrounded by both of them. How you wished you could stay in that state forever, unmoved.
At night, Johnny curled up in bed with you, resting his head on your chest after a tiring day. He seemed almost disappointed to find you alone when he came in, he smiled while he kissed you nonetheless.
He inundated you with questions that gradually turned into whines: did you sleep with him? what do you mean you don't even kiss? what are you doing? don't you find him attractive? why don't you just ask him? do you think we should go after him? why not? let's knock on his door! why not?!
You were able to dissuade him from these impulsive thoughts eventually, stroking your fingers through his hair and recommending that he do the same as you and try to stop thinking about it. It was for the best, you assured him, trying to convince yourself of it, too. He yielded at last, but he wasn't pleased.
"Do you even want me?" he asked with a sigh
"Of course I do." you replied, almost offended at the question "You know I do."
"Doesn't feel like it sometimes" he muttered.
You took a deep breath before taking him through your typical monologue, practically memorized at this point, on your reasons for keeping things as they were - no sex - would be better. The more you talked, the less you found yourself believing in your own words. Still, you tried to make him care for the utter shape of your relationship as it was, in an eternal transient state of a romantic friendship that never lost itself. "That sounds terrible, bonnie" he said, but you insisted he just didn't understand.
"I'm sensitive, Johnny." you tried to explain yourself "I can't stand the thought of ruining what we have."
"Seems like you can't stand the thought of improving them" he sighed.
You knew he had been sleeping with other people, and the thought soothed you more than anything. He never lied to you about it when you asked, and it was comforting to see his heart still belonged to you. You tried to imagine yourself as something separate entirely.
He traced his fingers down to your waist, then hips, and back to your shoulders, letting his hand linger on your breast.
"Don't you want it, baby? Not even a little bit?"
"I do, Johnny" you admitted, not immune to the desire that kept itself alive inside you.
"Haven't you been dreaming about it...?" he continued, his voice lower than before as his fingers played with your hair "Huh? You, me and Simon?"
Your eyes widened at his words, even though you had, in fact, been thinking about it constantly ever since the first night that Simon slept with you.
"That would be a mess" you murmured, telling him what you kept telling yourself.
Johnny chuckled, "a hot, delicious fucking mess?" he suggested.
"Just a regular mess" you lied.
"Just think about it, alright?" he eventually said, resting his head back on your chest.
"Okay." you promised before turning off the light on your nightstand..
"I love you, baby. Truly." he whispered in the dark "There's nothing for you to be afraid of."
"I love you too, Johnny"
Part of you knew it was a silly decision to insist on depriving yourself of pleasure, things were already messy enough. There was no saving any naivety of a friendship that hadn't been merely a friendship from the start, and refusing to admit that you did, in fact, have physical desires toward them was, perhaps, just making things worse. You made a mental note to search for a therapist when you got back home, perhaps dig into whatever religious guilt you seemed to have inherited to drive your decisions.
Nevertheless, you were able to remain firm in your decision. At least until two days later, when everyone went out for drinks at night after a long day.
The sky was dark grey when you left the base to go to the bar. The space was crowded, but comfortable. You knew almost everyone there and quickly settled with some friends.
After one and a half beers Johnny was already getting touchy with you by the counter.
"Have you thought about what I said?"
You nodded and he got closer to you, hands on your waist, "And will you let me make love to you?" he asked softly in your ear.
"Maybe I will" you confessed, already feeling a bit tipsy.
"Come on, bonnie" he insisted, hands on your waist "You know I've been dying to fuck you."
You felt as if your legs would melt right then and there. And, even with your back turned to him, you felt Simon's oppressive stare on you. You turned to find him across the bar.
You both looked at him, sitting at the table next to Price, who seemed to be talking to him, even though his attention laid somewhere else. His hair was covered by a black hoodie, but he didn't cover his face. He grinned at you playfully, taking a sip of the cold beer in his hand.
Johnny followed your gaze and smirked at Simon, then looked back at you with a devilish smile. "I'm gonna get Ghost to come with me" he said and you froze in place.
"I don't think that's a good idea," you plead, already feeling the palms of your hands sweat. What is it exactly that you feared? You didn't really know. It felt childish to be this scared of your own desires.
"I think he's into it" Johnny said, winking at you.
"I don't think so." you grew a bit nervous "I don't think he wants me like that"
Johnny just chuckled in response. "Sure" he said sarcastically. "I can't believe you think that's possible, baby".
You looked around the room nervously, the idea made your stomach turn.
"Tell me you don't want it." he said, suddenly looking at you with a serious expression "Just tell me you don't want it and I won't say anything to him. I'll drop it."
But you couldn't say anything, which made him smile before taking another sip of his beer. Johnny pecked a kiss on your cheek, before leaving you to sit at the table beside Simon.
Although you couldn't pinpoint what exactly caused you so much anxiety, you did notice that it mixed into a twisted excitement.
You watched as they interacted with each other, leaning closer to talk, smiling, and laughing lightly. They looked so pretty you couldn't believe such a dreamy scenario would become a reality to you. Johnny touched Simon's arm and whispered something to him, he grinned and looked at you.
You tried to pretend you hadn't been staring at him the whole time, suddenly feeling a lot of interest in the bottle in your hand and then the conversation that took place between the colleagues beside you.
You tried to distract yourself the rest of the night, interacting with other people and trying your best to focus on different subjects, other people's lives and problems, it was very hard considering that yours seemed to be about to become so much more exciting than anything your friends had been up to.
Johnny didn't seem to want to leave Simon's side anymore, they were engaged in conversation with Price and Gaz at the table on the corner of the bar for what felt like hours to you.
It was pouring rain outside by the time you gave yourself a little tipsy pep talk in the dirty restroom mirror. You told yourself you looked attractive enough, beautiful even. Nothing to worry about.
When you came back, you were so immersed in your own thoughts that you didn't even notice when Simon sat on the barstool beside you.
"What are you thinking about?" you heard his low voice behind you.
You turned around to look at him, feeling blood rush to your cheeks "Didn't see you there"
"Are you not going to tell me?" he repeated your words from the other night with a playful smirk, to which you frowned. He leaned a little closer to you to whisper in a high-pitched voice "I'm thinking about you".
"I don't sound like that"
"Yes, you do" he chuckled.
You took a deep breath before answering, echoing his own words back to him: "Well, you should stop flirting with me"
"I don't think you want me to stop" he grinned, and you wished you knew exactly what Johnny had said to him. "Do you?"
"No," you said frankly "no, I don't."
It was almost 2am when Johnny pointed his head to the door, signaling it was time to leave. Simon was already outside, and you were already soaking wet even before you left the covered environment of the bar.
You thought your heart was trying to jump out of your chest when Simon opened his bedroom door later that night, and felt both of the men you loved follow you inside.
You closed your eyes when you felt both of Simon's hands hold you by the shoulders from behind, as he got closer to you "are you OK, love?" he asked against your neck, the softest you've heard him speak, with the remains of alcohol on his breath. He placed a kiss on your shoulder and you rested your head against his chest.
You nodded, your body burning in anticipation. "Will you guys stop if I don't feel well?" you asked, your voice was almost a whisper.
The anxiety about the implications and consequences of this was already set on your chest. Now there was nothing else to do, no escaping the disturbance this would cause to your life. At this point, stopping would be much worse. Your desires had already manifested, they had been spoken, and transformed, there was nothing left to do but give in to it.
The violent rumbles of lightning bolts shook the sky outside, and sudden flashes of light illuminated the room at an unpredictable frequency. Your eyes had adjusted to the dim light of the room, and the darkness felt comforting, providing an atmosphere of otherworldliness to the room, you could almost imagine this scene took place in a different reality and try not to worry about it.
"Of course" Johnny answered and Simon nodded with his face on your neck.
Johnny kissed you first while Simon held you, his familiar lips searching urgently for you in the dark. You had one hand on his neck, while the other held tight to Simon's, afraid to lose his touch. Johnny looked at him with a smile before grabbing you by the waist and turning you around so that you faced Simon.
"What do you want me to do to you?" Simon asked, looking deep into your eyes, his tone was soft, the question genuine.
“Will you please kiss me?” you cried.
He took your hands in his and kissed them, the small sounds of his kisses covering your fingers and wrists. Then, finally, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You felt your heart could explode at any second. You cupped his face with both hands and caressed his skin.
The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant. His tongue was warm and smooth on yours and he tasted like beer and cigarettes.
You heard when Johnny unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants behind you, grabbing and pulling your hips so you could feel the volume in his underwear, you moaned into Simon's mouth.
Johnny left wet kisses on your neck, making you shiver as he pulled up your t-shirt. Simon cupped your breasts in his hands as soon as he saw them, quickly struggling to free them from your bra, peppering kisses on your chest and nipples.
Simon kneeled in front of you and pulled your pants down, helping you remove your shoes along with them, then smiling at you before kissing over your panties.
You rested your head on Johnny's chest and trusted that his strong grip on your waist would be enough to keep you in place because you barely made any effort to stand anymore.
You hummed when Simon's tongue first touched you, drawing small circles around your clit. Johnny groaned in your ear, pressing his hips against yours, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this horny in his life. His hands danced around your body until, feeling very bold from the alcohol, he moved one of his hands down to stroke Simon's hair.
"tastes so good, doesn't she?' he asked, to which Simon nodded, burying his face deeper between your thighs.
Your mind seemed to finally quiet, you wouldn't be able to form a coherent thought if you tried now. You could feel Simon's desire to devour you.
He slipped a finger inside you, moaning back when you did. He moved his lips back to your clit, sucking it with just enough intensity to make your legs tremble. And, as if he knew, just as you were about to come undone on his touch, Simon stopped, standing up again to kiss you, you whined in protest against his lips, but it was useless.
They exchanged glances and Johnny wet his own lips.
"Let me see you ride him, love" Simon whispered in your ear, eyes fixed to his. And you obeyed.
Johnny quickly removed the rest of his own clothes and lead you to Simon's bed by your hand.
He laid down, but you stood there looking at his body for a moment. He looked so beautiful lying naked in front of you, the low light that came from the window was only enough to highlight the contrast of his features. You couldn't believe you had actually been this stupid to deny yourself from him for so long. You bit your own lip at the sight, his eyes brightened with passion. "Go on" Simon encouraged behind you.
You spread kisses to his chest before sitting on him. You tried to do it slowly, making him roll his eyes back, getting used to the size of it little by little. You both gasped with pleasure when you finally took him in completely.
“You’re so tight, baby” he groaned when you started to move.
You could hear Simon ditching his own clothes somewhere behind you. Then you felt him behind you, one of his big hands gently holding your waist. Simon used his other hand to put one finger in your mouth and you sucked on it, making Johnny audibly moan under you.
You froze immediately when you felt his naked body touch yours, his hardened cock poked the skin of your lower back.
"Relax, I won't do anything you don't want" he assured you in a low voice against your neck. You received wet kisses on your back and shoulders.
Johnny moaned, his fingers tracing your thighs "Feels so good like that" he purred, and you nodded in agreement. He grabbed your hips but Simon quickly slapped his hands away.
Johnny blinked, confused, but then smirked when Simon started to guide your movements by the hips, slowly and gradually changing the speed to fit what you seemed to respond better to. He guided your body on Johnny in a way that made his cock touch you precisely in the right places. You barely had to do any work, so you rested your head on Simon's chest, only opening your eyes to watch Johnny's face under you.
Johnny rubbed his thumb softly on your clit, making very small movements around it. You moved accordingly, enjoying the way the pressure created a response deep within your stomach. You panted on top of him, exhausted but eager to continue, your body guiding you toward release.
The obscene sounds you made were thankfully muffled by the heavy rain outside. You felt your orgasm reach you with the growing rumbles in the sky, which eventually resulted in a violent lightning, not that far from the window. You let your body rest on Simon's chest after the wave of pleasure washed over you.
"You did so good, bonnie" Johnny sat up to kiss your face, and laid back down.
Simon pulled your hips back gently, indicating you should stand on your knees. Intuitively, you positioned yourself so that you could put your lips around Johnny's cock. He closed your eyes when you did.
"Look at her, Johnny" Simon ordered.
He held your hips firmly in place, then pressed into you slowly, savoring how the wet heat between your legs welcomed him.
Johnny had his head resting on one of his arms, his free hand lazily stroking your face as he watched you struggle to fit him in your mouth. He tried his best to be obedient and focus only on you, but his eyes kept looking up curiously, dying to watch Simon's face as he fucked you.
"God, you feel so fucking good" he whimpered before he started moving his hips, filling you completely with every thrust. You could feel his length messing up your insides and you were grateful to have Johnny's cock keeping you silent.
Simon traced his fingers down your spine, around your waist, then back to your neck. He gently stroked your head and grabbed your hair. You thought he'd pull it, but Simon just pressed the back of your head deeper on Johnny's cock, pulling you back when you gagged, then repeating the same movement again and again. Johnny closed his eyes in an effort not to come so soon from the view alone.
You gave up on your own body for a moment, forgot it was yours to control in the first place, letting it be taken by all their movements like one gets taken by the current at sea.
"'m gonna cum if you keep this up" Johnny announced in a low voice, and you weren't sure if he was talking to you or Simon, but the latter let go of his grip on your hair, unsure of what you wanted to do with that information. You kept going on your own now, until you felt Johnny pulse inside your mouth.
He let out a soft moan as he watched you swallow it. His body finally relaxed on the bed and you felt his fingers search your head and caress your hair.
Simon's movements became slower, almost nonexistent, and you anxiously moved your hips against him to alleviate the desire in your core.
"Don't stop" you begged in a small voice, resting your head on Johnny's thigh, but he did stop. Simon gently pulled your hips back and switched your body so that you were facing him.
"Lay down" he instructed, "I wanna see you".
Johnny's arms guided you to lay on top of him, your back to his chest. He kissed and caressed your head lazily while Simon spread your legs, sinking into you with a grunt.
You moaned loudly when you felt him entirely inside you again.
“Shh!” both of them reprehended you, and Johnny quickly covered your mouth with his hand.
"You wanted him to fuck you like this, huh?" he asked close to your ear and you nodded, unable to speak anything other than little moans that were muffled by his palm. Simon looked at you directly in the eyes, his face subtly contorting in pleasure with every little sound you made.
He pushed into you slowly, delighting himself in the warmth of having you wrapped around him. He tried to memorize the feeling of having your skin against his so he could dwell on it later.
Johnny uncovered your mouth to kiss you, moving his hand to hold you at your waist. The familiar feel of his tongue was both comforting and exciting, your lips searched for his with noticeable hunger. You didn't think you could possibly get more aroused at this point.
You rested your head on Johnny's shoulder, closing your eyes and feeling your body relax now that you've gotten more used to Simon's size inside you.
"Eyes open, love" Simon demanded, and you obeyed.
He kept his gaze on your eyes until he couldn't resist moving on to Johnny's anymore. They looked at each other for what felt like too long, Simon's thrusts into you got more intense, and it made you wonder if you were simply the vessel through which they fucked each other at that instant.
Johnny, who had his hands wandering around your body, now moved them from your breasts to caress Simon's chest on top of you, at first in shy quasi-accidental strokes, and then shamelessly grabbing at his waist, scratching nails on his back once he got a positive reaction.
He pressed his hand against the lower part of your stomach, right where you could feel Simon's cock attempting to tear you open with every thrust, you moaned into Simon's mouth as you felt Johnny getting hard under your body again. Your arousal was dripping down his crotch, his chest already wet from your sweat.
"Hm you're taking him so well, baby" Johnny whispered in your ear and you watched as Simon's eyes darkened at the sound of the words.
You’d lost track of time and sense of space completely. It was so unbelievably indulgent it almost felt wrong, as if you couldn't possibly be allowed to experience this much pleasure all at once in life.
You felt you’d reached some new sense of consciousness in which you did not belong to your body anymore, you've transcended into something else, something in complete harmony with them and their own bodies around you. You were certain for a moment that, if you tried or wanted to, you'd be able to read their minds and communicate without words.
The utter feeling of Love just invaded you in the form of radiating happiness, an epiphany planted in your heart, as if you had been stung by Eros himself and you felt yourself capable of reaching an orgasm without your body. All of a sudden the whole universe seemed to become clear and there were no questions you couldn't answer if you wanted, any doubt you had was gone, and any anxiety dissipated. You almost felt like laughing, relishing - for what was probably the first time - in the wonder of cloudless thoughts.
Simon dropped the support of his hands to his forearms, getting impossibly closer and resting his torso on top of you, the cold and metallic touch of his dog tags against your chest sent a shiver down your spine. Johnny’s hands moved from his waist to your hips, grinding you on top of his hardened cock in search of some relief, which was positioned between your ass cheeks.
You drunkenly intercalated kisses between the two of them, feeling absolutely in control until Simon locked your neck in place with his hand, choking you a little before placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Open” he demanded and you did.
He spit saliva into your mouth and, before you could swallow it, Johnny urgently pulled your face to kiss you, desperately licking your tongue.
"Fuck, Johnny" Simon grunted, digging even deeper into you, attempting to get even closer, making your toes curl. He leaned over and kissed Johnny, and you felt him instantly melt under you. His hands left your body to cup Simon's face.
They moaned into their kisses. You almost felt inadequate being there, as if you weren't supposed to witness that much intimacy, but the thought quickly died down when Simon's lips found yours again, leaving Johnny breathless, and he sealed you back into their little universe.
Your back arched when Johnny moved his fingers to your clit again, you barely needed any stimulation at this point, your legs were tense locked around Simon's hips.
"Come on, baby" Johnny purred in your ear "Let me see you cum all over his cock".
Almost as if on command, you did. The high building up in your lower stomach finally reached its breaking point and crashed into your body in waves of ecstasy. Simon moaned as he felt your entire body pulse and relax under him, he jerked faster into you and then quickly pulled out.
Johnny moved you away from him so that your back rested on the mattress with both of them towering over you, stroking themselves. Simon's eyes rolled back as he came on top of you, a heavy moan leaving his throat as he covered you with the warm gooey liquid that dripped from him.
The sheer sight of it, along with your little moans, was almost enough to get Johnny off immediately, and it only took a few strokes to make him cum again.
You watched them as Simon gently cleaned a bit of his own semen off of Johnny's abdomen with his thumb. He brought the finger close to his face in an offer, and Johnny obediently opened his mouth and sucked it off, receiving a pat on his head and a satisfied smile from his superior afterward.
You laid there exhausted while they cleaned you with tissues, getting little gentle kisses on your skin every once in a while. Simon turned you around on the bed and wiped a soft tissue on your face, removing the remains of mascara you had under your eyes.
It took you a few minutes to eventually get up and use the bathroom, Simon had one all to himself, which meant you didn't have to put your clothes back on.
When you came back, they were both still naked on the bed. Johnny was already asleep, a permanent smile stamped on his face, being only partially covered by the sheets.
"Come here" Simon whispered to you, and you gently climbed over Johnny's body to rest in the space between them.
Johnny sleepily arranged his arms around you, one over your waist and the other under the crease of your neck, his fingers reaching to caress Simon's hair.
Simon kissed your forehead. "This feels nice" he murmured, almost too quietly for you to hear. You looked up to kiss his lips again and rested your head on the pillow, wishing you wouldn't have to get up the next morning.
(now that this is out of my system I can finally move on with my life).
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Okok but bunny!kappa who’s needy 24/7 and distracts you by teasing himself hoping that you’d come over and “sort” it out. Bunny! Kappa who nearly cries when he has to cockwarm his toy instead of you using him like he wants to. Bunny!kappa who stifles his moans when he’s riding the toy as you’re on the phone. He’s such a vocal person as well so keeping quiet is so so hard for him :(
Thank you so much for this very delightful ask, anon! 🖤🐰🖤
Attaboy
Summary: Kappa just being a very needy bunny boy for mommy 🐰
Pairing: bunny!Kappa x fem!Reader
Word Count: ~1.1k
Content Warnings: Bunny Play Smut 18+!, Thigh Riding, Bondage, A Bunny Tail Plug, Very Needy Kappa, Mommy Kink, Implied Chastity
A/N: This gave me so much brain rot 😩🥴
Tagging the horny horde:
@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @r0ttenmess @doddernix @svgarcaine @basementgrl222 @amayalul
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Lift, oh, lift me out
Of my own skin
Of all my doubt
Oh, and take
Take from me
Leave nothing left
Take everything
- Hypnosis By Sleep Token (Will Ramos Cover)
"Hmhmm…", Kappa's high-pitched, dragged out whine got lost against your collarbone, mixing in with the soft sound of your fingertips tapping on the keyboard of your laptop, "Want attention, pwease."
The desperation in his tone brought a cheeky smile to your lips as your eyes were still trained to the display, the cursor helping you to keep your gaze set to the right lines of the text in front of you.
"You gotta be a bit more patient, yeah? Why don't you be a good bunny for mommy and ride my thigh for a bit, huh?" You suggested, annoyed at yourself that you'd procrastinated this assignment to the absolute last minute…again.
"Come here, don't worry, I got you." Your other hand was flat against his lower back, right underneath his tied up arms, steadying him and encouraging him to rock his hips against your leg.
"But, mommy, please…" Another desperate mewl followed the first one.
"Behave.", Your voice rendered firm for a moment, "You gotta wait until I'm done here or you're not gonna cum for another month."
"Hmhmmm…" He sniffled into your shoulder, cheek resting against your shirt-clad breasts.
"Use your words, hun." Your middle finger flicked over the touchpad to scroll down further.
"Don't wanna wait any longer, need you so much, pretty please." Kappa's face was hot, even through the fabric of your shirt you could feel just how worked up he was already.
"Nuh-uh, stop that begging. You either take up on my offer or I'll lock that pretty cock of yours up again, your choice." You taunted him teasingly, your hand softly pressing against his back, inviting him to grind along your thigh.
"No, mommy, don't want that.." His breath hitched a little as you felt the soft, fuzzy, black fluff of his plug hesitantly graze along your leg, pushing his ass against your thigh to ease his throbbing need.
"Attaboy!", You cooed into the crown of his head, "Mommy's gonna read as fast as she can, okay?"
To give him a little more to work with, you raised your leg in steady ups and downs for him to fuck himself on your thigh.
"Ugh, shit…feels so good…thank you, mommy." Kappa tried to choke back a deep groan but it was a fruitless attempt, the sound had left his lungs way before he could help himself.
"Of course, anything for my perfect bunny boy, no?" The palm of your hand started to stroke over the skin of his back in loving touches whilst still helping him with his posture, making sure that he wouldn't flail and slump into you.
"Just a few more pages and Mommy's all about you, baby." Your eyes practically flew over the sentences of the document, your brain struggling to keep up with your need to get this out of your hands as soon as you could.
Some random facts about Greek agriculture flew through your mind as you basically just haphazardly skimmed through the text. Something about grain, wine and olives, the holy ancient Greek trinity and something about plowing acres in the humid Mediterranean climate. The information tried its best to settle down in your long-term memory but you knew that hardly any of it would actually do and you didn't exactly care.
"Need you to touch me, mommy…" It rambled out of him in a breathy stutter.
"I know, hun, I know. Just be patient a little more, yeah? Not enough for you to grind on my thigh, no? Poor lil' bunny, always so bouncy and needy for me." It took all your self-control not to just close your laptop and give Kappa the release he'd been waiting on for so long now.
As you felt Kappa picking up his pace, his throbbing cock thudding against his belly with every roll of his shaky hips, your eyes started running through the sentences. Not even really taking note of their contents anymore. You just wanted to be able to pretend that you'd read all of this, to raise your hand once or twice during the next class to utter some luke-warm facts for your professor to at least remember your face before exam season rolled around faster than you liked it.
"No, shit…fuck…", Your gaze shot towards Kappa immediately, your eyes widening in surprise and equal parts of amusement, "No, no, no, damn, mommy, 'm gonna cum already!"
You didn't try to stop him, no, you very much knew how pent-up the last few weeks had rendered him and he'd been such a good, obedient bunny for you that you allowed him to have this right now.
"Ouw…", You softly hummed into his hair, both of your hands now cupping his waist, "Did fucking yourself on my thigh felt so good, huh? Issok, bun, cum for mommy. Just let go, I gotchu."
For another few unsteady rolls of his hips against your thigh, Kappa grinded his crotch against you, his balls tightening up before he faltered, heavy moans cascading out of his trembling lips as white-hot ropes of his cum splurged all over his lower abdomen and the seam of your shirt, soaking into the fabric.
"There, there…", You pressed a long kiss, affirmative to his temple. "Did so good for me, bun."
Kappa's bright red face pressed into the crook of your neck as he gasped for air, slowly coming down from his orgasm.
" 'M so sorry, mommy.." He, indeed, sounded sorry and not at all please about just cumming like that.
"Oh, no, stop that. It's okay, baby. Been waiting for that so long, no?", You led one hand to wander right to the nape of his neck, your fingers getting lost in sweaty strands of his hair while you hugged him against your form, "Take a breath. It's all good and who said that it'll stop me from touching you as soon as I'm finally done with this stuff here, huh?"
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So my sibs and I were watching (in my case re-watching) and around that time where Zane was in the sick bay they immediately went:
"Why are the readings for a human—"
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[The Ninjargon on the body map above read, from top to bottom: brain, face, torso, arm, belly, leg, knee, front leg.]
Which, to be fair, is a very good question. I propose two theories on this:
I. The systems were rigged that way to make it easier to understand. II. Zane has a heavily human-based system.
My rationale for each one is under the cut and, yes, it's long.
Yes, I have assignments and I am in college! Why'd you ask? :P
I. The systems were rigged that way to make it easier to understand.
I think the only persons who are well-versed in mechanical stuff is Jay and Nya. With all the disastrous situations Zane finds himself in usually land him in the sick bay, and as with a human patient you usually have to have someone looking over them.
Now technological whatnot is going to be hard to understand for someone who doesn't have a background in it (except maybe for red is bad and green is good idk), so I think Jay and Nya made it so that the displays show what it would look like for a human. Because who isn't familiar with heart monitors and stuff?
I like the thought that Jay and Nya amended the systems for the others to better understand it and so that when something goes wrong they can immediately be told what's wrong, which can save time. I think it's pretty neat.
(Disclaimer: Yes, I still am mildly affronted by how... inaccurate the systems are, but that's a discussion for another post.)
And the one I prefer:
II. Zane has a heavily human-based system.
(People who read spinchip are probably either rolling their eyes or leaning forwards. Or both)
You might tell me, 'Well, duh, Nin,' but hear me out.
Julien predated Borg when he created Zane, and it's all but implied that Zane's blueprints were probably what Borg used to create Pixal and consecutively what the Overlord used for his evil clone army back in S3.
Now take into account that Julien has had no other reference for creating an android out of what mechanics he already has in mind. Also that Zane was created with two main purposes: to be a defense droid ('protect those who cannot protect themselves') and to be Julien's son.
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[The Ninjargon on the screen reads, from left to right, top to bottom: rpm, 34/56, heart, lungs.]
Here we can see he has lungs (I personally think that's just the cooling fans because idk how you'll make artificial lungs out of metal or smth) and a heart (his core most probably, though I really don't think it's gonna be a pump but something that disperses electricity through the body the same way the human heart distributes blood around). There's also a spine—probably where all the sensors find their locus.
Though I'm wondering why just those three on the screen? We don't even have the neural network there (unless you count the spine being that?? Somehow??)
The fanfic potential of this thing HM-
TLDR: I. The systems were rigged that way to make it easier to understand. II. Zane has a heavily human-based system.
Feel free to add onto the discussion or ask me stuff; this was written on a procrastinating streak, so I probably missed a few things or the essay is a bit blurred.
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everlasting-elegy · 2 years
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Swapped! AU (Luke, Simeon, Solomon)
It's the long awaited finale, lads! The final characters for the Swapped AU. Thanks for all the support and love for the headcanons, I didn't expect everyone to enjoy it so much!! I hope you guys enjoy this post as well~
What would the characters in Obey Me be like in a world where they are players of the game and you’re their favourite character? Genre: Fluff Word Count: 2.8k
Luke
Luke tells everyone he downloaded Obey Me out of sheer curiosity. No, he did not download it to try and bond with the brothers, stop saying that. He just thought it looked nice, he swears on it-
With the bright colours and cool aesthetics, Luke quickly got deeper into the rabbit hole of Obey Me. You became his favourite character in a heartbeat. Even if you don't look tough, you definitely seem like that and super cool at least to him. He wants to be just like you!
As such, he spent a couple of weeks trying to emulate you. Wearing your style of clothes and trying to talk like you. He wanted everyone to think he was cool and he thought you were the prime example of it
Luke has cried from the main plot multiple times. Although the story is often funny and not much is shown explicitly on screen, the thought of curses and monsters sometimes gives him nightmares if he plays the game too late in the night. Those times he has to go to Simeon’s room for comfort
Wants to give you all the hugs! He may not be the tallest person around but whenever something bad happens to you in game he wants to swoop in and protect you. He hates seeing your sad face
Unfortunately, you’ve made Luke become a master procrastinator. If unattended, he will be grinding the game instead of doing whatever homework assigned to him. It got so bad that Simeon or Solomon always have to be present as he studies
His favourite card of yours has a pastel, tea party aesthetic. Pastries laid on a table, large plushies and side characters accompanying you, wearing light coloured formal gear. You’re inviting the camera to take a seat beside you and he really wants to join!
Luke also loves scrolling through fan art with a similar aesthetic. He just loves seeing you smiling, laughing and having a great time with other characters, away from the actual darkness of the main plot
Has cooked your favourite food and baked various cookies with themes to you. As much as he loves sharing his cooking at times he can get a little possessive with the foods he’s made for you, wanting to keep it all to himself
Luke is a responsible spender and he has Simeon supervising him, so anything he buys related to you is few and far between but very meaningful to him. He likes the pastel themed merchandise of you, including a set of baking utensils in your favourite colour
“I’m so sorry to hear you had a bad day, Luke,” Simeon offered a sympathetic smile as he kept the front door open for Luke to stomp in petulantly. “I can organise Solomon to come over and we can spend the night watching movies to take your mind off of things. How’s that?”
Luke took a moment to think before nodding slowly. “Okay. But I want some time alone in my room. And don’t come in!”
Simeon blinked in surprise as Luke hurried off to his room. Simeon was always one to respect the wishes of his loved ones, but Luke’s outburst piqued his interest. Just because he couldn’t come in doesn’t mean he could try and hear what’s happening from the outside…
After packing items away and suitably Solomon-proofing the kitchen for his arrival later today, Simeon tiptoed his way to Luke’s room to try and overhear what was happening. Through the door, the muffled tune of Obey Me’s home screen was playing.
“Oh, I didn’t realise you’re back. Did you have a good day?”
“I didn’t (Y/N), it was such a bad day! The first bad thing was with Mammon calling me a chihuahua. First of all, I’m not a chihuahua-”
Simeon stifled a giggle as the boy ranted on about his day, his screen supposedly listening in. He knew Luke had grown attached to the pixels on the screen that made up the character (Y/N) but he didn’t realise just how much solace Luke found in them.
Eventually there were a few sound effects from tapping on the screen.
“You know, sometimes I don’t understand my friends.”
“Me too! I mean, wait- I don’t think they’re my friends, they’re just my classmates. But they’re kind of cool… in their own way. I want to be like them. And I want them to stop calling me a chihuahua.”
A few more taps yet again.
“Don’t worry, if anything’s troubling you, I’ll take care of it. I’ve got your back, always.”
“You’re the best, (Y/N)! Thanks for listening to my rant… Solomon’s going to be coming over today. I wish you could join us too…”
Before Luke could get more moody, he was interrupted by a knock on the door. The boy audibly yelped before hurriedly turning off his phone as Simeon opened the door.
“Did you have a nice conversation with your friend?” Simeon asked teasingly.
“H-huh?! How much did you hear?”
“Oh, not much. Only all of it.”
“Simeon!” Luke whined as he grabbed his pillow, wrapping his arms around it and stuffing his face into the fabric to hide his growing blush.
Simeon
Downloaded the game when Lucifer was complaining about his brothers’ growing addiction to it. What better way than to understand how they feel than by downloading the game himself? Is what he tells himself but he can’t help but be a little cheeky to Lucifer
Even if you weren’t a character in the game, Simeon likely would keep playing because it was just such an interesting premise. He’s initially oblivious about how he appreciates you more than just an integral character to the plot, but once it hits it hits hard
Once he realises just how much he loves you, any line you say that offers even the slightest flirty tone has Simeon turning the phone screen away from him as he tries to hide his flustered face
Thought you were a real person at first due to the text feature, or there was at least someone real portraying you. Of course him only having set responses was weird but he didn’t know any better. When he realised you were just lines of code, his disappointment was immeasurable and his day was ruined
He fails your surprise guest event, repeatedly. No matter how many times you pay him a visit he still fails the event more than he succeeds and it breaks his heart. Solomon took pity and bought a whole bunch of your favourite items on Simeon’s account (even then Simeon’s success rate is depressingly low)
Simeon is enthralled with all your cards that portray you as suspicious and morally grey. With bright lighting in some areas casting dark, contrasting shadows over your face, wearing a knowing smirk as you look to the camera, finger pressed to your lips to make Simeon swear his silence
Likely has discussions with Satan, theory crafting and dissecting your character further. The two together are an unstoppable force when it comes to understanding you and Simeon will gladly contact the developers to help aid the plot under his pen name
Regardless, Simeon contributes to the fandom with fanfiction. He’s made a few AUs and just loves writing intense pieces of fiction about you and tensions with other characters. Still, he can’t help but be a little self-indulgent and write some self inserts and xReader fics
Simeon isn’t really one for official merchandise, but he has bought some fan creations that feel more personalised. In particular a fountain pen designed to your theme, that’s only kept on display remains unused
“Oh, good day Solomon,” Simeon chirped, wearing his gentle smile. “I was wondering if you were going to drop by, Luke’s been missing you.”
“Sorry, I’ve been caught up in learning a new spell,” Solomon responded in kind with a smile of his own. In the living room, he took a seat by a coffee table, opposite Simeon. The two were engulfed in silence for a few moments as Simeon waited for his guest to start a conversation, but Solomon couldn’t bring himself to speak. His instincts were caught up in something else. The uncanny feeling of being watched that sent electricity down his spine. Simeon may be in front of him, but there was another presence here… he turned his head to survey the area.
Solomon stared in disbelief as his eyes settled on the hunched over figure in the corner of the room.
“Don’t mind him,” Simeon waved his hand dismissively, smile widening as he tried to hide his embarrassment. “He’s been like that for an hour now. I think he’s trying to get the confidence to walk closer but when I approach him he scuttles away.”
“First… you tell me you’re Christopher Peugot… the author behind The Seven Lords,” Leviathan started, voice distant as he rambled. In fetal position in the dark corner of the living room, he rocked back and forth with his head in his hands. “And now you’re telling me you’re Ultimate(Y/N)Theoriser on Devilblr?! Creator of all the best angst fanfics with the cast and the fluffiest one shots with (Y/N) and who wrote the legendary slow burn series in a royalty AU where the reader is in an arranged marriage with emperor (Y/N)?!”
“I must admit, that second pen name sounds far less admirable but it gets the job done,” Simeon chuckled awkwardly, only making Levi scream into his hands. Solomon watched in amusement as Levi started to rush forward.
“Your autograph! NOW!!”
Levi almost tackled Simeon save for him narrowly dodging with a laugh.
“Of course, let me get some paper-”
“No wait, I’ve got a (Y/N) poster, let me get it from the home!”
Levi dashed out of the room and Solomon turned to Simeon with raised eyebrows.
“Ultimate(Y/N)Theoriser?” Solomon mused, smirk widening as Simeon rubbed the back of his head, looking away as heat climbed to his face. “My, you live many double lives, don’t you Simeon?”
“Don’t mention it, I forgot to turn my device off when Leviathan came here and he saw one of my drafts,” Simeon sighed. “I hope he keeps it a secret.”
“He’ll try, that’s the most I can guarantee.”
Solomon started to laugh but stopped when the door creaked open again. The motion was slow and hesitant as a blue tuft of hair timidly peeked through the crack.
“Uh… I haven’t gotten the poster yet… but Simeon… are you down for commissions? I have some (Y/N) fic ideas…”
“For you, my friend? You don’t have to pay me.”
Levi burst into tears of joy.
Solomon
Solomon is a busy man but he likely stumbled across the game on his own due to his natural curiosity and loneliness unless he overheard Asmo going on and on about how fun and pretty the game was and how he simply must download it
His emotions with you felt like a true slow burn. Of course his eyes couldn’t help gravitating towards you when you appeared on screen but it took a good chunk of the main plot until he realised he was genuinely down bad for you. Now no matter how much you’re in the game he’s starving for (Y/N) content
It’s his favourite pastime when he wants to do something mindless instead of studying and if everyone else is busy with their own things. Much like when he’s chasing his other passions, he can completely lose track of time and spend hours progressing through the story and grinding until someone knocks on his door
Your biggest fan, he’s always rooting for you. He loves how you navigate each complication and how you interact with other characters. He’d love to be able to join in with some of the antics
He likes to cook your favourite dish on the regular when he has the time. He tries to encourage others to try it so he can spread appreciation for your character but no one accepts… oh well, that simply means more for him!
His favourite card of you is one where you’re portrayed as a magician of your own. Adorned in a typical sorcerer’s garb, you stand in a darkened room lit up by your various spells as you smile in wonder and awe. Oh, how he’d love to join you and waste the night away lighting up the sky with magic
He tends to keep to himself but he’s a little more open on social media. Under a pseudonym he will go off about how you’re an amazing character and his brainrot. On days where he’s bored and feeling mischievous he may go around and spam content of you throughout the fandom
Might have bought a figure or two of you but overall isn’t big on the whole merch concept. He prefers to make his own little trinkets in dedication to you but if his friends ever gift him anything he’s not complaining
Similarly he doesn’t spend too much money on the game. He feels there are other ways he can appreciate you and get his daily (Y/N) fix. That being said, he’s got some spare change that he’ll glady throw at the game to get his favourite cards or exclusive outfits for you
Solomon is oddly soothed by the "permanence" of your character. Even if something bad happens to you in the main plot, or even in the worst case scenario if you die to further the story, you'll still be there to always greet him on the home screen
Notebooks were strewn across the desk. Messy scrawls barely visible over the dim candlelight. In the centre of it all sat Solomon, eyes flickering between each book as he contemplated in silence. He was so close but so far. It was passable but that wasn’t enough for him. Somewhere in his hastily written notes should be the answer, just a little tweak to make it perfect.
He jolted at the sound of a knock on the door.
“Yes?”
“Dinner’s ready, you should really get something to eat,” Simeon called from the other side. “May I enter?”
“Of course.”
Hearing the door creak open, Solomon returned to his musings, finger to chin as he tapped absentmindedly.
“My, a new spell? You’ve been at it for hours,” Simeon stated as he tiptoed towards the sorcerer, trying to make sense of the seemingly nonsensical ramblings on the paper.
“Days, actually,” Solomon muttered.
“Care to tell me what it’s meant to do? Perhaps another perspective could help-”
Solomon clicked his fingers, a simple ‘ah’ escaping his lips as he scrambled to one of his notebooks. Pen manifested in hand, he crossed out a small part of the script, hurriedly correcting himself as he rewrote the passage. Simeon watched with bated breath as Solomon leaned back, double, triple checking the writing before he turned to Simeon with a cheeky smile.
“Would you like to see the magic in action?”
Simeon swept his arms wide, inviting Solomon to take the stage. The sorcerer straightened his posture, gaze on the book as he started to chant a passage never heard before. This spell was an original, created only by Solomon for his own enjoyment.
As the incantation continued, a low light started to emanate from his hands. The light started to spread, growing at an exponential speed and brightness until it became a blinding white. Simeon stifled a grunt as he screwed his eyes shut, hiding his face behind an arm as the light became too overwhelming. This magic, it was sophisticated, it was strong. He shouldn’t have expected any less from the strongest sorcerer of all time.
He could sense the light dying down. Eventually, Simeon pulled his arm away but his eyes remained closed.
“You can open your eyes now.”
Simeon needed to take a moment. Just what could be the result of such powerful magic? Even opening his eyes seemed to take too long, the anticipation was killing him. He furiously willed his eyes to adjust to the darkness quicker.
In Solomon’s hands…
… was a (Y/N) figurine.
Simeon smiled politely, but his chuckle was confused. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”
“This is a perfect replication of the exclusive (Y/N) figurine that was on sale last week but already sold out. In all honesty it was far too expensive for me to buy, so I figured it would be a lot cheaper if I just created a spell for me to get my hands on it. In fact, I might try to do this with future forms of merchandise. It’s good practice for spells and- Simeon, what’s with that look of disappointment?”
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Swapped AU General Headcanons: (Leviathan, Mammon) (Beelzebub, Lucifer, Satan) (Asmodeus, Belphegor) (Barbatos, Diavolo)
Obey Me! Masterlist
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tragedytells-tales · 1 year
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One Teens Down Days
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Notes - Teen!MC, Drabbles, hurt/comfort, angst and fluff, Inspired by Storm Clouds on a Sunny Day by @beels-burger-babe and the Clover series by OR3O , Feat. Teen!MC , Older brothers ( Lucifer, Mammon, Levi )
Summary - Just because they're in the devildom doesn't mean they're free of human suffering.
Warnings - Overworking, insecurities, not proofread
Tw - None
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Save me , need somebody save me. / need somebody to tell me, please, please! / how to move on. / Don't be afraid, we're the ones who'll help you find the way! / so much to say, but don't be here to stay.
Overworking & Expectations
( Lucifer )
Lucifer had this habit that developed after the fall. He would leave his desk near or around midnight and check on each of his brothers. Not to make sure they were asleep, they nearly never were, but to make sure they were safe.
So this wasn't the first time he spotted candle light underneath MCs door even hours past midnight. One of those days he stood by their door to see when exactly they were going to sleep which was around 5am. And to his suprise, there they were the next morning, neat, tidy, and on time to leave for school at 7am.
He wondered how he hadn't noticed this facade earlier, he knew something was wrong but he couldn't place what. So over the next few days he studied their habits. He monitored how much they were taking care of themself and how others were treating them. Yet he found no error with the latter and only the first. But they'd never done this before, or the year prior, so why now?
The first thing he did was look at their grades, which were astounding on their own, next he looked at their workload which was... bigger than it was supposed to be. And when he confronted them about it he got all the answers he needed. The teacher was assigning them more work on purpose.
And that couldn't stand.
So he confronted MC about it one last time, just to see if they would tell him themself. And when they didn't, he told them he knew. And in turn they chuckled and waved it off. "It's nothing I can't handle!" They said. "But it's something that you shouldn't, and won't. From now on you will be doing the same amount of work as your peers and you will get extra time on it as well."
And he stood by his word despite the many protests he got. Curfew was at 10pm sharp and if they were struggling with something he would bring them dinner and sit with them until they were satisfied with what they had gotten, even if it required him to remind them that the work was fine and that there were no further improvements needed. Especially when it was clocking in on 11pm.
He even quadruple checked it himself to give them satisfaction of it meeting his standards, despite them meeting it the first three times.
He made sure they ate and hydrated regularly and sent them reminders about it, and if he couldn't then he sent one of his brothers. He made his brothers send him reports on their sun lamp time, and if they weren't meeting it he would make an excuse to bring them to the human realm.
He made sure to remind them that there was more to their time than work and that others should never be allowed to intrude on it. And in turn, MC called him out his hypocrisy. And forced him to start doing things with them, including breaks, trips, and family game nights.
When he asked MC about his lessened work load they just shrugged and told him to ask Barbatos, although Barbatos just showed him his regular smile and told him not to mind the dramatic sobbing in the background.
Oh yeah, and when MC asked him about their lessened work load? He just waved it off and reminded them about a project they had due. Which they had been paired with their hard working friends for instead of their usual teammates.... Ironic.
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Procrastination & Focus
( Mammon )
MC was a very expressive person. He could always hear them tapping or humming a new melody that had gotten stuck in their head. Or he could see then rushing to finish work that had piled up over the past few days and was due that night.
He asked them about it, naturally, and they grumbled something about old habits dying hard while speed running an essay. But he knew it wasn't just that. The tapping of their foot as they checked their D.D.D for the third time in thirty minutes and the humming as they began daydreaming for the fifth time in ten told him well enough that they couldn't focus.
Which was fair, he supposed, it did tend to be loud and busy in the house with him being the main culprit. However, watching MC have some form of mental breakdown everytime a deadline came up was becoming concerning, he would know.
So he made it his mission over the next few days to study their habits, well, more than he had already memorized. He placed their favorite things to fiddle with, that he totally hadn't been hoarding just in case, around their desk before they sat down. He not-so-subtly played music to see what works for them. He tried every trick he knew and learned to see what works best for MC to get them into some type of work mode and what gets them out of it.
He celebrated every piece of assignment they got done and took them out to some event they mentioned everytime they completed an assignment. He never exactly mentioned his little experiment but he knew MC was aware something was off. They said as much multiple times and everytime he told them "It's nothing special, I'm just helping you avoid Lucifers wrath-"
"He would've just tutored me and you know it dude. What's up?"
"Fine, I figured that I'd help ya out since you just seemed to be gettin more n more frustrated. You should've just told me you were havin trouble as your first man it's kinda my job to handle these things, kid. Not that I was worried or anythin, but you can tell me shit, y'know?"
"Yeah, yeah, don't get sappy on me now, thanks mams."
"Anytime short-stack!"
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Comparison & Enjoying things
( Leviathan )
He and MC had near weekly meetings where they played games, read Manga, and ranted about different hobbies or interests they had found. He loves to read everything they made and will watch a show ten times over just to make sure he absorbed it all for when they decided to rant about how much they might not have liked it or how much they loved it.
So when he noticed that spark of joy when enjoying something diminish, naturally he got concerned. Was it something he did, was it something someone else did, were they just not telling him something? He got his answer when they outright refused to let him read a work they made because, in their words, "its stupid, and bad, and it sucks. Quite frankly, I'd be better off burning it all." Yeah, he should've seen this coming.
He knew this part of the creative process all to well. So this, he was confident in helping with.
He started off by making a strategy. He started by pinpointing where the problem was coming from, wether is was multiple things or just one problem. Next, he tried his own comfort tactics to see if they helped MC. He re-watched some of their favorite shows with them and listened to them rant about their favorite books.
He listened to them vent for minutes or hours on end while also reminding them, "many of the devildom authors you're talking about have been alive for over three times your life span and most of them still have works they hate but they're still writing because it's what they love to do! Sure, you may not love your writing right now, but writing is something you love to do. So don't worry to much about how it turns out, because it'll be perfect everytime, worry about wether or not you're enjoying it because thats whats most important!"
"Did you even breath?"
"MC."
"OKAY, OKAY, I won't burn my writing... thanks sir nydra."
"You're welcome!"
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AN: * blows dust off the blog and sneezes * Guess who's back, back, again
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Text
APS Book One Excerpt (1)
Taken from "Chapter One: The Pub and the Peril."
If you wish to see the WIP intro for more information, you may find it here.
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I exhaled slowly. "For the last time, Caster, that guy insisted on us coming to this place, and he wasn't gonna give up. There was no choice, okay? I promised him thirty minutes here, and then we'd leave." Lifting up my wristwatch, I checked the time. 1:20 A.M. "We have ten minutes left anyway, so don't worry. We'll get outta here soon, and I promise I'll pass you the aux cord when we get in the car to make up for it. Deal?"
Caster paused for one, two… three moments. "Fair enough. But can you please remove that book from the table and do something other than read?" He shot a pointed glance at the comic near my half-full glass of tequila. "I'm afraid you'll spill your drink and soil the pages."
"Oh, come on, I'm not that clumsy! It won't spill!" I replied.
Silence dropped on us like a weighted blanket, and Caster simply raised a brow that clearly said, Are you sure about that? 
Two seconds passed and I bit my lip, backtracking to all the moments I'd soaked pages with water or coffee (plus the time when I had to ban myself from having paper and liquid near each other for a couple weeks…).
"Okay, I take it back," I muttered, pulling the book off the desk and slipping it into my bag. "So what do you wanna do?”
He shrugged. “Say, do you have any homework to finish?”
“Um…” I paused. “I don't know why I'd do homework now of all times, but yeah, I do. It’s just one art assignment that’s due in…” I checked my watch. “Negative two hours.”
Caster clicked his tongue in disappointment, shaking his head. “You procrastinated again, didn’t you?”
Glancing away, I fidgeted uncomfortably in my seat. “Yes… and I knew I was probably gonna miss the deadline… Look, I don’t even know why I chose this art major, okay?” 
I didn’t even want to. Not because I hated art, but because I’d probably fail at it — just like always. 
“You did so because you knew what you wanted,” Caster replied (also, no I didn't Caster; you're wrong). “But now… it seems like you’re wasting it, no offense. However, at least you had your desires in mind. I still don’t, and therefore that puts me at a level lower than you.”
Yeah, of course I was wasting it. Because I wasn’t any good at it, and therefore lost all the passion for it. Where was the reason in wanting to do something if I just messed it up? Exactly. No reason at all.
But of course, I didn’t mention that — because it would be horribly unhelpful — so I just raised a brow and said, "I mean, at least you aren't forcing yourself to go down your family's path. I don't think anyone wants to support the government. Give yourself some credit, man."
And at least he was actually getting straight A's in his law and business course. Saying that wouldn’t help, though, so I kept my mouth shut.
"Very true, but what I do now still doesn't please me.” Caster bit his lip. “I… could try something else, but…”
“Well, if you were to disregard your position in life right now, what would you wanna be?”
Just as I finished speaking, the fancy glass doors to the bar suddenly swung open, and in came three people wearing dark clothing. But they were strolling around casually, so I disregarded it. Why bother with other people's business? I wasn't like Desmond.
"If I could choose anything… a vigilante, I suppose." Caster tapped his chin. "Both of us have super abilities, so is it not best to make the most of them?"
... Even if that was impossible, he still wanted something to do in his life. (It made me realize how I didn't want to do anything at all.)
I sighed, pushing away my irrelevant, personal thoughts. "Okay, I didn't say, 'throw logic out the window,' but… alrighty then. That's not feasible though, and you know why. Or rather, it's not smart. Like, I'm not exposing my hydrokinesis just to do that."
"Firstly, you said, 'disregard your position in life right now,'" Caster argued. "So therefore, my answer is still valid."
"I meant, 'disregard the fact that you're a uni student who doesn't exactly know what he's doing.' Not 'disregard the fact that superpowers" — I lowered my voice, even if nobody could hear — "are supposed to be kept secret.'"
Pushing his long ponytail over his shoulder, Caster sighed. "Well, I've still been pondering the idea. Vigilantes are bound to exist with inefficient police forces plaguing Codex. So there must be some superhumans out there who take matters into their own hands."
"Well, sure, but if they did, they'd get caught. It's kinda easy to expose your abilities when you're battling criminals."
"If you think about it, however, Codex has been dealing with the issue of magic powers since 9050, so perhaps it’s not so — wait, wait, I should take that back…" Caster shook his head. 
"Yeah, not the best point to make. When Codex was dealing with Exelonians… You know, it wasn't pleasant, with prisons and torture and war and all. Adding superhumans — who have an even wider range of abilities Exelonians— to the mix is only gonna cause more trouble," I replied. "So, to sum it up: the idea of vigilantes is great, but I hate the reality of it."
My friend paused. "I admit, you raise a fair point. But really, don't you think that life is so dull…"
"Ack! Hey, stop! What are you doing?"
The shout came from across the room, forcing me to flinch.
I knew it was bad manners to look away when someone was talking, but what was going on at the front of the bar? 
My eyes widened when my gaze landed on the scene playing out in front of me.
The three people who entered earlier had cleared the way of the dance floor, and the largest one in the trio… was holding Desmond in a chokehold.
What. The. Hell. 
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If you want to be added to the taglist for this story, let me know in a reply or reblog.
CURRENT TAGLIST: @writeblr-of-my-own, @yesireadbooks
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normalpeoplethiings · 5 months
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Hope you don't mind me keeping to clutter your blog with questions, but I gotta ask because I need help in this, how do you keep track of school assignments and study methods? I'm struggling.
i do not mind at all! i genuinely struggle keeping track of assignments, because can’t stop procrastinating. i try to get as much work as possible done in class to avoid this, and as the due date gets closer i usually spend some time at home working on my assignments to get them handed in. this might not be very helpful, but yeah. i just spend as much of my school time working on my assignments. also, i prioritise anything that has a closer due date or will take a fair amount of time to complete. again, sorry if this doesn’t help. hope you are okay x
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stillreeloading · 7 months
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90 DAYS OF PRODUCTIVITY
With @voidsteffy and @docta1228
Day 8/90
26th September 2023
An okay-ish day.
This morning, i felt really down. My father called me up at 6 and I didn't wake up till then. Even after I woke up, i spent my time on the phone for about an hour. Then I decided "I don't have time to bath now" (LOOK AT THAT GIRL YOU HAD A WHOLE HOUR) and i just changed my shirt, brushed and went off for class (didn't even have time for breakfast).
TRW: first class; end of class assignment was given( it's a pair assignment always); me and my friend completed it quickly and ran off to the food court in the block. I had breakfast and felt at peace.
Gen physics: 2nd class; we solved a few questions
Engineering graphics lab: 3rd class for the day; went really bad that the instructors were worried abt me.
General bio tutorial: we had our bio quiz. It went pretty fine.
General math tutorial: was really chaotic. These two girls sitting behind me we're giggling for every single thing for god's sake 🙄
In breaks, i wrote a bit of bio notes and after returning to my room, i learnt a bit of c programming (theory part).
I also washed my clothes on which I had been procrastinating for too long really.
Below the cut, I just wrote a meaningful thing today.
In the morning when i felt shitty, I texted my father.
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Translation: "i feel like I can't do this"
About 10 minutes later I called him and he only checked the message then. He asked me what was wrong and I told how c programming and eg are really problematic for me. We talked about it for a while. Talking to him really made me feel better. He deserves everything.
I told him how ma said "you can just keep failing, crying and saying sorry" and he said "don't mind all that". I told how it's difficult to not mind it when it's my own mother who says that and he said "if it was anyone else, you can tell them it's none of their business. But since it's your mother you can think oh it's just my mother, it's okay"
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thehandthatleads02 · 14 days
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I need someone to take control of me. I don’t know how I find someone to just turn my mind off. Daily responsibilities get to me, I go to uni and work towards a career but all I want to do is have someone break me, use me. I want a patriarchal society where women are just free use sluts. The lucky ones get owned and cook and clean for their owner, used however their owner sees fit, and serving one man for the rest of their lives. The rest get chained up in public places to be fucked whenever by anyone who wants to. I procrastinate my studies so much by rubbing myself away to the filthiest things I can on here that I only ever leave myself a few days to do assignments. I’m fed up of pretending I actually care about getting a job when all I want to be is a slave.
-🍓
This is a tricky one. If we step back from the kink talk, objectively I don't think there is anything wrong with wanting someone else to have complete control over you as long as it is what you both want. That does assume you both understand what that means and what it looks like. That's a lot of trust to give someone, and trust takes time to build. Worse, it can be broken so easily by someone with less pure motives.
But from a practical stance? The world we live in makes that hard. Neither of my girls really want to have a regular job, but the the only way I could make that happen would be if I found a way to double my income. Expenses are just too high, and they aren't getting better any time soon. So no, mercy doesn't get to be a mindless bimbo that spends her days edging her mind into oblivion. softgirl doesn't get to be the homemaker that keeps things tidy and makes delicious meals. I'd love to make that the case, and I have some projects I am working on to move towards that, but it just isn't certain. If I had the money, I'd probably start financing plastic surgery for aspiring fucktoys. It'd be a kind of twisted charity.
In terms of practical advice? Either find some rich asshole to finance your lifestyle or accept you'll have to compromise somewhere. Maybe you don't get to be a slave all the time, but you find someone who gets off on setting rules and pushing you to do slutty things. People like that do exist.
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