#AND the name call wasnt in order?? of ANY kind???

[cinnabeat]

i remember when i went to my cousins high school graduation and i was reading through the itinerary or whatever the fuck those little pamphlets are called and it was listing the order of the ceremony and then i saw it said it was gonna play "pomp and circumstance" and i nearly had a heart attack in the stands until it played and i realized it was just the graduation song

#in my defense..........i have proseka brainrot #also that was the most inefficient graduation ive ever fucking seen #they called names and gave diplomas BEFORE the speeches andahit like what the fuck??? #AND the name call wasnt in order?? of ANY kind??? #not alphabetical not frouped by robe color or whatever the fuck #literally nothing #if that was MY graduation and they made me sit through fucking apeeches AFTER having my name called and recieving my diplomma id fucking rio #im surprised no one just literally walked out #like what the fuck #michi tag

[twisted-king]

OOOO IDEA, how about the OB boys with a s/o who has an ESA (Emotional Support Animal) that they somehow convinced Crowley to allow them to have (because they literally need the animal). And the esa comforting them after their OB 🥺

Literally kissing you on the forehead rn.

Sorry about the exlusion of Jamil, idia and Malleus.

No ideas about Jamil, not sure how Idias would fit in... and Mal mal isnt finished

This is angstier than I thought it would be <3

TW: Panic attacks (Isolating + silent types), narcolepsy

Feel free to correct me if i got a certain experience wrong, I am a studying Psychology major so it would help me with my understanding of anything!

Remeber: ESAs and Service animals are different!

Overblot gang with an S/O with an ESA

First things first:

Lets say you're in second year, so you're dating the OB boys before the OB.

Going to keep the particular support need vauge, but it is panic related, reader is sensitive to loud noises and textures feeling wrong.

You 100% convinced crowley to let your ESA to stay with you because:

he is sooooo kind

you wouldn't let a poor defenseless panic-prone human in an ALL MAGIC BOYS SCHOOL alone would you????

Now with that out of the way:

Riddle Rosehearts

Animal: British Shorthair (cat)

I'm gonna call this cat Queenie

Riddle's Overblot wasn't really something you were ready for in any capacity.

Your usually kept together boyfriend was suddenly some... angry, monsterous thing.

This wasnt the Riddle that got you high quality noise cancelling headphones for unbirthday parties, the same Riddle who you spent so much time learning and growing with. Your dutiful boyfriend who was learning how harsh his punishments were with you...

That Riddle wasnt here right now.

Queenie circles you, nuzzling into your legs.

But its too late, you've shut down. Its hard to move, your heart feels like it doesnt have a beat but the hurt of an ever beating heart remains present.

Your breathing quickens, your knees buckle in from under you.

the dull thud of of your body hitting the slightly overgrown grass of heartslabyul is the last thing you hear as you slowly drown further into your panic.

Riddle, on the other hand, Just came to from his OB, staring at his dormmates worried and horrified faces. He feels weak, he knows what just happened, and he feels HORRIBLE....Oh god.

Are YOU okay??? where are you? Where is his S/O

That's when he spots you, your tear striken face, Queenie laying on top oof your chest, your hands shakily petting her back in sporadic, unrythmic strokes as her face snuggles further into your chest.

What has he done?

Riddle feels awful.

He promised to never be the cause of any panic for you. He wanted to be a safe space for you.

But his need for order seems to have taken over and ruined yet another important relationship in his life.

Despite his fatigue, he hesitantly appraches, keeping about 2 meters away from you. He knows you don't want anyone too close by right now.

When you show signs of calming down, He's there, silently and patiently sitting across from you.

"Do... do you want to talk about it..?"

You respond with a shake of your head.

He nods, you two remain in silence. One preparing for a potentially life-changing talk, the other rocking about as they cradle their cat

Leona Kingscholar

Animal: Corn Snake

His name is Zazu (shhhh)

Leona liked things quiet, and calm.

Thats what made you two work, at least according to him.

But, you knew and Malleus and Magift was a sore subject for him, you were kind of ready for his yearly temper, it caught you off gaurd last year, but this year you felt like you could really stand by his side!

Besides, a year in this hectic world with Zazu really helped stabilize your mood!

Until it wasn't.

A roaring stampede instead of a crowed, screams of terror instead of cheer, and your boyfriend, slowly turning your friend, Ruggie, into sand.

It was too much, too many shoves, too much noise, your friend almost died

You hold Zazu's little head gently, the soft, smooth texture of his scales your only vice as you duck under the bleachers of the magift stadium.

It's there and only there, all alone with your snake that you're able to break down and cry.

Leona groaned as he came to, he knew this was a stupid plan and a stupid decision. He could have just trained everyone properly, spend some actual time with you. He could have- Wait... where were you?

Despite his drained energy, he needed to know where you were. He put a hand up, stopping the chatter of his former victims, attemping to listen in for any sign of you.

He hears the soft mumbling of your attempts to talk to yourself

"Can't even trust em enough to tell me, I knew i should have stayed at home, this is why no one will accept yo-" hisssss

Okay, he had to do something

He rushes across the nearly empty stadium, suprising everyone (Except Ruggie maybe, he's kind of used to Leona)

"Herbivore?!" he stands outside the stands you're under

"I don't... I don't want to see you right now... I don't want you to see me."

"Babe- I... alright. Can I be with you right now?" "no." "I'm coming in anyway."

and he does.

He enters the darker space to find you huddled ong the ground, gripping onto your sleeve with one hand, the other coiled but zazu, who seems to lay still across your shoulders.

"I'll just be here." "Why?" you mumble "For you." he states

That makes you chuckle "You sap.."

Hisss <3

Azul Ashengrotto

Animal: Mop dog

Mop dog named Max...uh... Maxie

Okay so, unfortunately Azul did NOT like Maxie at first

But he got used to him because you two are a package deal

You knew Azul had insecurities, and his own...moments

You and Azul had a comfortable routine, you and him are both realtively particular, he needs a level of order in his life, and his comfort zone is very well kept. So you two kind of fell into a step.

Despite your realtive bliss spending most days in his office or the backrooms of the Lounge. You knew his business was his passion.

You also knew he tended to get a bit... ambitious.

You and Maxie knew to stay away during midterms, it was bound to get chaotic. And Azul gets kind of... gift-bomby around this time... it isn't the most comfortable.

Things typically died down a few days after midterms, so you decided to visit your boyfriend.

On the complete wrong day.

You took Maxie with you, ready to greet Azul after his busier week but instead you find...

Leona? with a pile of sand around him by Azul's vault... Oh no.

Maxie softly appraches a sullen Azul and nudges his leg with his paw.

Something seemed to snap because all of a sudden the sneaky yet loving Azul Ashengrotto you knew was... huge eight tentacles and crazed.

He shoves Maxie away, sending him to the ground (mind you, he's a pretty big dog)

He shoved your dog.

He's stealing things, he's refusing to be "worthless" "weak" "stupid and clumsy"

Everything you've always secretly felt you were... oh no...

Maxie rushes toward you.

You slowly place yourself on the ground.

You've fainted.

Azul comes to, he sees Ace, Deuce, the Prefect... Leona... and you? when did you get here? on the ground... Maxie gaurding your sleeping form.

He... overblotted.

How could he be so stupid?? everything seemed to be in pla e did he not count something or- WHY ARE YOU HERE?

Azul approaches you and Maxie, he dismisses the prefect and gang, solely focused on you.

Maxie opts to lie on top of you, promptly waking you up

"oof... what... what happended"

"I'm... so sorry" "Oh. right."

Maxie greets you with kisses, happily nudgeing your cheek accompanied by his happy barks. You sratch his head "I'm ok... down boy."

Azul apologetically stares at you, hesitant to say more.

You look up to him, sighing against Maxie. Your eyes narrowed "I thought we agreed." "I know I just... I can't help it." "Therapy." "I'll apply tomorrow afternoon, I promise."

Vil Schoenheit

Animal: Poodle

Her name is Georgette

Vil and Georgette get along realtively well. She doesn't shed, you keep her well groomed, and you're usually more on task with her around.

You like to joke that Vil reminds you of Georgette. He claims he is much more refined than your dog. She doesn't seem to like it much either.

He likes taking you out to set with him. He trusts you to behave and know's you feel safe both around him and whenever Georgette is around, he respects that.

Vil pets Georgette like an evil mastermind sometimes? So maybe that should have been a warning sign.

The VDC was fast approaching, Vil is under a lot of stress; he's been a harsh coach, his popularity stays at the same place consistently, he's FINALLY given the opportunity to beat Neige "once and for all"

VDC happens, you're helping the Prefect overlook how things are running. Overlooking the practices.

Vil does absoltely beautifully! and for once, Georgette agrees.

Neige does this old nursery song, and you're more than confident Vil will win.

You leave the prefect to handle the rest while you head to the stalls to buy a drink for Vil.

He deserves a treat after all <3

When you come back, everything seems fine but, the stadium is empty though...

And suddenly everything is falling around you

You take Georgette and quickly duck behind one of the seats.

Vil's distorted voice echoes throughout the stadium, you cannot quite see him but you see the giant MONSTER lurking behaind him.

When he comes to..

Vil is downright ashamed. He knows trying to poison someone is wrong. He knows he doesn't get to decide whether or not someone lives... Especially not for a glorified popularity contest.

And that's when he spots Georgette's thankfully obnoxiously large bow peeking out from behind one of the seats.

That is when he knows he has to check in on you. You are never far from Georgette.

"Darling? Meine Geliebte, are you alright.." You're huddled with your poodle. Rubble is strewn about around you. Your eyes remain shut as you mutter to yourself.

"It's ok, it's fine. you're safe. I-it's okay.." Georgette's fur is soft, you continue to trace little patterns into her well groomed coat.

Vil sighs to himself, relived you're at least ok, but he's worried. You have Georgette for a reason, and he knows just how much progress you've made to gain the confidence to live your daily life and he may have just destroyed that.

He remains by your side

#twisted wonderland #twistedwonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst azul #twst vil #twst leona #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #vil schoenheit x reader

[xianoii]

‧ ˏˋ SCARAMOUCHE ﹐ ◜ VENOM ! ◞ ̣ ͘ ─┈ I KNOW you’re right for me; ecstasy. I keep coming back for more.

ׄ     ׅ  ★̶̲ WARNINGS 、fem!reader ╱ brat taming ╱ dom/sub dynamics ╱ sensory deprivation ╱ bondage ╱ teasing ╱ mating press ╱ heavy degradation ╱ orgasm control ╱ orgasm denial ╱ cunnilingus ╱ multiple orgasms ╱ impact play ╱ rough sex ╱ breath play ╱ throatfucking ╱ name calling ╱ modern!au ╱ bdsm themes ╱ mild sir kink ╱ spit ╱ fuck buddies → lovers ╱ creampie ╱ gets sappy @ the end ╱ minors & dc antis do not interact.

ׄ     ׅ  ★̶̲ NOTE 、GUESS WHO TF WHOOO! i missed xianoii sm y’all don’t even know . . submitted *most of my assignments & finals N SUMMER BREAK IS HEREEE WOOO!!! comeback era in order: so yk i had to write for my boo thang . . wouldn’t be a xianoii post if scara wasnt slutting us (me) out ^_^ pretty pls don’t let this flop n let me know u still love me 🥹🤲🏽 kk more info abt xianoii comeback era posted l8er! ts is kinda messy but nonetheless enjoyy my loves mwah! *reposting with working tags!

ׄ     ׅ  ★̶̲ WORD COUNT 、6.1k ( complete accident )

YOU SEARCH FOR something more in your relationship with Scaramouche. You can’t figure out why. He intrigues you to the extent of adoration, which blooms into branching feelings of varying scale. Obsession, greed, and attraction; are just a small piece of what he brings out of you. You feel a myriad of emotions when he’s added to the picture, and you can’t help but lose all composure and act on impulse. Perhaps that's why you did something as dumb as this: Stripping yourself of clothing until only the thin and laced fabric of your panties and hardly opaque fabric of your dainty tanktop covered your body, your shirt ridden up your abdomen to just beneath where your breasts fall, your clear skin blemished by the words etched above your waistline; “Miss You”. The words are sloppily written above a crooked arrow pointed downward, right where you needed him. You knew he was never willingly generous or kind with you, and with you teasing him like this, you were anticipating what was waiting for you.

You weren’t anything more than fuck-buddies— if you could even call it that. Scaramouche used you when he wanted you. It was never a dire need, a complete opposition as to how your approach to your relationship was. A part of you was aware of that, yet, it didn’t drive you away. Maybe you were just a masochist, liking every and any way he broke you down. Or, maybe, you saw something in him that was a key ingredient to the recipe of your situation. Whatever the case, anticipation ate you alive, your fingers clicking back to your messages every few seconds to see if he’d seen what you sent him. Your teeth subconsciously sunk into your bottom lip, and it wasn’t long until your mouth upturned in a smile, the “Delivered” shifting into a “Read” after what felt like an eternity. It was only a matter of his response, and the time between him getting on the road to your house.

Scaramouche isn’t as enthusiastic as you with this photo. You knew better than to tease him, and the fact that you’d even thought up something like this, let alone execute it. On one hand, he’s somewhat flattered that you miss him enough to drive yourself into desperation. It’s pitiful how far you’re willing to embarrass yourself just for his attention— he can’t help but feel pity for you. Your message gains no response from him, and with a swift look at his watch, he sighs, grabbing his things before heading out of the office door.

Now is the time to reflect on what you’ve done. You knew teasing him would come with repercussions, but you’ve never faced anything like this before. Your arms find themselves rubbing against soft fabric, bound behind your back and unable to touch anything but themselves and the softness of your bedsheets. Your eyes are blinded by the blindfold wrapped around your face, your body completely restricted from the right you have, only to be replaced with what Scaramouche is serving you; an antagonizing wait.

You can’t feel him. You don’t hear him, and God, a small part of you has your heart pounding in fear, your mind running a mile a minute in cycling thoughts of what’s in store for you. You’d pissed him off before, and you’re well aware he’s not the generous type, especially with teasing, but your desperation got the better of you, and all you can do now is wait. Clench your thighs in hopes he won’t keep you waiting any longer, your teeth gnawing on the insides of your cheek softly, your hands and arms subconsciously wriggling behind your back. And while you fight for your freedom, Scaramouche watches you in annoyance. What is your problem with him? Do you like being treated the way he treats you? What is it about him that has you grappling at straws for his attention..has you willingly waiting for him to stomp into your home angrily to bind you on your mattress with his tie? Do you think you’re something to him because you’re surely mistaken if you do. You’re nothing but one of many who’ll take the chance out of any day to please him. You don’t intrigue him in the way he does you. He doesn’t long for you in the same way. He doesn’t care for you outside of the use you provide in serving and pleasing him. And maybe he’s made a mistake in pursuing you too often, but you’re his favorite plaything.

He can’t lie and say he doesn’t like and long for you on occasion—because he does; but only when you can serve him. At this moment, he’s contemplating how you can do so. Your desires aren’t greater than his, in his opinion, but somehow, he can only sit and watch your neediness expand with the thought of giving you want weighing heavy in the back of his mind. With a very heavy sigh, Scaramouche creeps over to the bed. You missed him? You needed him? You’re getting him.

He’s back. You feel the mattress beneath you sink under his weight, “S-Scara? I…” he hushes you, a finger pressing against your lips, a light but stern ‘Shh’ following. “You’ve said enough. I don’t want to hear another word come from you.” You feel him pull further from your body the movements on the mattress indicating he’s further down. A nod from you is in response, and you swear you hear him smile, a light chuckle emitting from the man. You go a few seconds with no speaking before you feel his soft fingers brush against your calves, running up and down your lower leg. It’s not long before teasing lines are drawn up your right leg by his fingertip, his hands inching closer and closer to your inner thigh. Your breath hitches as you feel his fingers run over your clothed cunt, the soiled fabric eliciting a sigh from the man. “When I saw your picture, heh, all I could think about…”

“...about how fuckin’ pathetic you are.” as the words fall from his lips, his hand cups your cunt, middle and index fingertips pressing against your lips. The heel of his hand presses against your clit, a small gasp escaping your gaped lips, which are immediately zipped shut, feeling that intimidating gaze lays upon your face. You feel him rise higher, his head level with yours. “A pathetic bitch. Is this what you wanted? What you missed?” you feel his fingers press harder against your cunt, fighting against the fabric to feel the pulse beating. “You missed this? You had so much confidence, so tell me now.”

You’re excited despite the nervous gulps and silence that consume you. What's been a little less than two weeks feels like a lifetime of not having him, and with him here, on top of you, audibly angry, giving you just what you needed is like heaven. You're in bliss, even though you're aware that in the next few moments, you’ll be completely and utterly destroyed. You nod, hearing a scoff from the man. He's not pleased. Whether you're trying to purposefully piss him off or not, you're succeeding. “Answer me when I'm talking to you. I've taught you better than that.” you feel his fingers pinching at the fabric, adding pressure that has your hips bucking on their own. “..Yes…yes, sir.”

He chuckles and you swear that’s the first time this whole night he’s shown you a bit of softness. He doesn't praise you; instead, he keeps his mum, those fingers that teased you pushing your panties to the side, exposing your soaked cunt to the warm puffs of air that blow from his steady exhales. Your scent fills his nose, that familiarity and softness bringing him back to times before. He never went down on you for you– but him, and here, this is all for your torment.

His tongue licks over his lips, his neck craning further downward, the faintest meeting of his lips to yours leaving you jolting. “You missed me here..?” he whispers faintly. The words are spoken against your labia, your body reacting to every syllable spoken. His tongue licks a stingy stripe from your entrance to your clit, wedging between your folds to collect a sample tasting of your slick. A low moan vibrates gutturally from him, the sheer sound leaving your thighs to instinctively close around his head. “Yes, I did…I do, sir. I need you so bad right now,” your voice tries to latch on to stability, but with the way his tongue lightly treads around your clit and tenderly toys with the bud, teasing you as he gradually builds up pressure– you're stuck masking whines with your words.

He hums in response to your words, his lips wrapping around your throbbing clit, applying heavy pressure while beating his tongue softly against it, matching the pace of the beat that sings your neediness. He finds amusement in the way you're squirming, attempting so hard to keep your sounds low and your body opens and available to him. Everything you do in response is to ensure his happiness regarding you. You don't and won't get anything if you've ticked him off, and he's glad you know that, because he can do things like this to you: abusing your clit slowly but surely, sucking and quietly slurping at your folds and skillfully bringing you to your peak without laying a finger on you. Your moans are getting harder to contain, your voice breaking as you fight it off.

That knot begins binding in your tummy, and it's now that you begin fighting against your constraints, your hips lifting off the bed and further into his face. You're so close you can taste the euphoria on your tongue, and your eyes are beginning to roll beneath your blindfold. You're almost there. So close, so close– and it's gone. As fast as it came, it went, Scaramouche pulling off from you- not before sinking his teeth into your thigh, peering up at you from below. You swallow down all the things you want to say to him, knowing better than speaking to him when you knew it was too good to be true. “You're not going to cum that easily. You didn't earn it.” and you knew that. But you hoped he’d adopted some leniency toward you, but your dream was swiftly shut down by his body completely moving up, his legs over yours. “I don't think you've gotten it through your skull,”

He pauses, his left hand smacking on the side of your head before yanking the blindfold upward, letting your eyes fall upon his flat features. His right hand reaches out to your face, his index finger sliding under your chin, craning your head up to meet his intense gaze. “I'm not pleased with you at all. You reek of desperation, and your incessant pawing at my attention is irksome. Do you think that warrants an orgasm?”

Your eyes readjust to the light, your slow blinks focusing your gaze upon him. He's speaking softly to you, but you know in the layers of those words is thick malice. You've done the one thing he told you to never do. Bother him outside of your agreement. Your conversations begin and end with him. No matter how needy you are or how much you miss him, you do not contact him. You are his and not vice-versa. Your “relationship” does not step out of the boundaries of his word and your submission, and the fact you purposely and idiotically defied that…he's not letting up anytime soon. “Answer me when I'm fucking talking to you.”

“No. I’m sorry, I am! It's just..it’s been a while since we last saw each other and I–” he stops you immediately, his thumb slipping between your lips. “Do you think I care?”

He adjusts his hand to grip your chin, his fingertips pressing and smushing your cheeks. With a sigh, he roughly lets go of your face. “Let's put it in a language you can understand.”

Before you can even think, his hands have shot directly for his belt, efficiently undoing the buckle and pulling down the zipper, the waistband peeling out and teasing his solid black boxers. It's then that it registers what he wants. He slips his hand into his boxers, his other hand slightly pulling down his bottoms to allow him to easily pull out his cock; semi-hard and the tip gradually flushing red, pre-cum beginning to pool in the slit. He doesn't say a word when he places his fingers beneath your lips, and you already know. You let a glob of spit drop out of your mouth, falling onto his fingers. It's torturous as he lets his fingers run over his dick, slicking it up with your saliva with slow and deep breaths, his eyes fixated on the way your face easily tells on you. His cock is only centimeters away from your face, and from the way he's slowly and sensually stroking himself, you're fighting the urge to beg for him to end the teasing.

“Make yourself useful. Open up.” he’s repositioning his body, shoving you flush against the headboard, angling his hips to meet your tongue, sliding the tip onto your tongue, and slowly easing in. He pushes all the way in until his tip knocks at the back of your throat, your tongue slathering the underside in saliva. He sighs contently as you envelop him in the warmth of your mouth, your lips suctioning immediately to the tip. Scaramouche grabs the back of your head, angling you perfectly as he pulls his hips out, teasing you with the tip left between your lips. “Wider.” is all he says before thrusting his cock to the hilt in your mouth, crowding it with his girth. He hears your gags - hurried and frantic, attempting to adjust and accommodate for him.

It doesn't take long before Scaramouche is steadily building a pace in his thrusts, gradually going faster and deeper with each drive of his hips. His eyes bore into yours, watching as they gloss over like freshly lacquered floors, tears brimming your waterline and barely holding up - threatening to spill. The sounds of you choking on his dick is like music to his ears, and with a sigh, he's slowing down, alternating in speed for his amusement. “Bob your head. Give it a nice suck.” and you comply.

You tighten the suction of your lips around his shaft, swirling your tongue around - top to bottom, slicking him up with running globs of saliva. You quietly moan as you do so, fluttering your eyes back and forth between eye contact with him and the protruding veins peering back at you. You can tell it's been some time since his last release, the look in his eyes carnal. It's hard to not feel intimidated under his gaze, and you feel yourself cowering beneath him, slacking on your duty. Scaramouche is aware of the effect he has on you, – you wouldn't be in this situation had he not – and he sees the way you falter. In his mind, it seems as though you're dead set on pissing him off. The one thing you're good at, and you can't even finish the job?

It's in the blink of an eye that his palm is cracking against the skin of your cheek, his hand immediately slipping between your locks and gripping tightly, yanking you back. You wince— you're fucked.

“I was going easy on you…but you must like being treated like a whore.” he grits through his teeth. A mixture of annoyance, sexual frustration, and anger burns an inferno in his eyes, the grip on your hair tight and the sting of your cheek strong. “Gave you a simple fuckin’ task. Pathetic bitch can't even do that right.” you want to argue back– but you know anything you say won't change his mind. He's been plenty lenient, and whether you agree or not, he's done extending fair play. The ball’s been in his court, but now, it's stuck.

“I'm gonna fuck you up.” he grips your hair impossibly tighter, pulling your head back until it knocks against the headboard. “Gonna pull your hair like this..” he then removes his grip, his hand instead slapping against your face in small smacks. “..Bruise up this pretty face…” his eyes meet yours briefly. The two of you are on opposing sides of this predicament— you, who just missed him and was incredibly horny, and him, who just wants someone to control. His threats would've scared anyone away. Sent them scurrying with their tail between their legs. But you, you're something different. A masochistic attention whore, for starters— but you're also loving. Though he's berating you and treating you like scum beneath his shoe, you still peer up at him with those eyes, full of adoration. And so when your eyes meet, only briefly, Scaramouche withers with pity, because only you would let him treat you like this, but still look at him like that. Perhaps the feeling is mutual, but he’ll never admit it.

His thumbs slither between your lips as the rest of his fingers tangle in your hair, the digits granting him a grip on your head. His thumbs stretch your lips as wide as they could. “...and fuck your face. Stick your tongue out and take it.” you comply. He lowers your head to his hard-on, slamming you onto it. The entire shaft disappears in your mouth, and the tip kisses the back of your throat. It's not long before he’s thrusting into your mouth, his balls slapping against your chin and your tongue struggling to keep up with the rough thrusting into your mouth.

He drinks up your chokes, groaning and cursing every time your gags vibrate against the sensitive head of his cock. Your eyes water again, peering up at him with sweetness, as if to silently ask for less, but to no avail, you're ignored. Drool runs down your face and his cock, spit dribbling down to his balls and painting him messily. You wish you could move your arms, your fingers wiggling and hands moving wildly for something to grab and clutch. He's amused at your attempts. Your movement is only helping him anyway.

You're sure your throats got to be bruised, at this point. The air is hard to inhale through your nose, and you're stuck trying to breathe around the girth of his dick, wheezing, tightening your throat around him. Though it's not intentional, it sends shivers up his spine and he's much more vocal, trying to mask moans beneath tough grunts. He's slowing down, burying you at the hilt of his cock until your nose upturns on his pelvis, your lips wrapped around the base, and your tongue dancing over as much as you could. “A-ah, fuck…just like that. Fuck…”

He’s long since peeled his thumbs from the corner of your mouth, hands residing behind your head until now; his left hand running down to your neck, wrapping his grip around the shaft and squeezing, tightening you on his cock. You feel like the air is being stripped from you and you keep telling yourself ‘Breathe, just breathe’ but to no avail, the lack of air throws you into a panic. Your protests and thrashing only have him cursing in longer, drawn-out strings. In seconds he’s pulling out, his hands leaving you and rushing to his cock. He pumps himself fiercely, all of your spit and his precum driving him directly to his high. “Fuckfuck— open..your mouth-! Swallow m—” he’s cut off with his own guttural groan erupting, his cum shooting thick onto your lower face until you open your mouth, catching as much as you can. Your jaw hurts and you're sure that it’ll take a while for you to recover, but you're quick to be good for him, leaning forward and licking the sensitive tip, cleaning him up.

Scaramouche comes down from his high, his low eyes softly laying his gaze upon you. He sinks into your mattress, catching his breath and wiping away the sweat that beads at his hairline. His hand reaches to your face, thumb swiping up a rope of cum that missed your face, pressing the digit between your lips. You, eager to please and even more eager for him to let up on you, suck and swirl around the digit, your eyes never leaving him. With a sigh, “...how do you want me first?”

You've finally got him. Pounding into your cunt mercilessly, his grip on your waist and right leg. Your leg stands tall in the air, occasionally draping over his shoulder with your toes curling. Your leg pulls him into you more, his hips slapping against yours with euphoric fervor, driving you straight to the edge with no warning.

You're at your third orgasm at this point, your cunt decked down with your arousal and cum. Your clit throbs in neglect, your entire body burning and begging for attention from him– but all he seems to care about is dumping another load onto your body. His teeth are gritted and his eyebrows are furrowed. His grip is so tight on your skin that you're sure bruises have begun to form under the relentless slapping and groping of his calloused palms. Scaramouche can't get enough. The contraction of your pussy around him and the squelch it elicits every time he plunges his cock in, the way you moan his name endlessly and effortlessly, the way you attempt to grip and claw at anything even though he’s still got your arms bound behind your back– simply, the way you allow him to use you, but you still want him. Long for him. You cry his name because he makes you feel good even though you know the favor won't be returned. You let him bruise you up and slap you around like a ragdoll, and it's fine because he likes it. Everything you do is a response to and for him, and it's only now he realizes the feeling is mutual.

He wouldn't be fucking you hard like this had he not enjoyed your body. It's because you're what he's always wanted that he comes back; no matter how much you irk him and spoil his mood. And yeah, he may treat you like shit sometimes, but you never feel resentment toward him. Now, at this moment, Scaramouche knows you're right for him.

“‘M cumming!-- Oh my G—” your voice resurfaces in his mind and pulls him back, his thoughts pushed aside to tend to your approaching high. His pace slows and his thrusts go deeper, knocking at your sweet spot repeatedly until your voice dissipates and you squeal in place of words. Your body tenses and jerks before you let that knot unravel, a large and satisfying groan escaping your mouth as you orgasm. He's pulling out from you and letting you collapse for a moment. He watches and slightly admires you as you pant heavily.

Without a word, he's grabbing you by the tie around your wrists, flipping you to your back. While he's over you, his fingers fiddle with the knot, promptly untying you and tossing the tie to the pile with the rest of your clothes and his pants. “Are you leaving?” you almost sound disappointed. You are though, as you are every time your time together gets severed. He shakes his head, “Do you want me to stay?”

There's a softness in his tone that you're not familiar with. Complete with the way he's looking at you: gazing down upon your fucked out state with something akin to admiration, rather than the look of pure disgust you're used to…you're lost. Do you want him to stay? You've never been given this option. “Can you?” you don't know what's going on, or what's going to happen now that he's here for longer than expected. It's been a bit over an hour since he tied you up to have his way with you, and after then, he's usually gone to never be heard from or seen again until he needs you.

The silence is deafening. “Can I ask you a question?” he waits for your answer. You nod slowly, chewing haphazardly on the inside of your lip. “What do you think of me? …Outside of..this?” you pause. Why’s he asking you this?

“Well, I already told you I missed you, and I think you're well aware of how you make me feel,” you're nervous. You pause and giggle, readjusting your position to lay comfortably on your side, playing with your fingers. “I guess…there isn't much to express. What I really think about is the you I don't know. You when we aren't together, what goes on in your mind when we are— I just want to know you, I guess.” he expected that the least. He knew you were infatuated with him, that much was clear, but…you wanted to know him? He hadn't had anybody take a true interest in him the way you do. “I dunno. I don't want this to be weird so take what I said lightly.”

It's too late for that. “Good…I-uh–” he stops himself. It sounds like he has something to say, and you've never seen him so choked up before. “I don't know what it is, but I think I feel the same? And if I do, then what?” he doesn't know what he's saying. Why is he saying this to you? He hopes and prays you aren't making fun of him. He portrays himself to you as a boss. He takes control of you and demolishes any sense of strength you have because he's dominant. He never had to open up, and he's never felt this way about somebody to even assess how he feels. All he knows is that when you're around, the ache is subdued and he can fulfill you both in the best way he knows.

Your eyes blink back at him, you must be dreaming? There is…it can't be. You're confused too, but someone has to take the lead, and you do. You prop yourself up on your knees, level with him, and bore your eyes into his. You tear a page from his book, “Let me put it in a language you can understand.” and before he can even respond, you're latching to him, pressing your puckered lips to his in a deep kiss. This is something you’ve never shared before– ever. He doesn't kiss you, he usually doesn't pay you any mind aside from you servicing him, but he doesn't stop you. Evidently, he's shocked but not stopping, allowing the kiss to deepen. His hands find yours, his traveling down to your wrists. He lifts your arms in the air, holding them until pushing you back on the bed, pinning your arms above you. You moan into the kiss as he bites down on your bottom lip, your back arching before your entire body grinds upward to him.

It gets incredibly heated almost instantly, and it's not long before your bodies are grinding against each other, re-igniting the flame that roared between you not too long before. “S-Scara..?” you manage to whimper out, his lips leaving yours and trailing down your body, a steady road of kisses drawn to the valley of your breasts, where his tongue takes action and licks around, teasing when he gets to your areola only to proceed with kissing around. It's only when his lips wrap around the hardened bud of your right breast does he hum in response, his indigo eyes that are usually filled with malice shining in lust. You choke out a moan, shivering as the new feel of his lips around your nipple engulfs you. “One more…I need you–!”

Your whispers of ‘please, please, one more, please’ don't fall on deaf ears, a smirk etching over his face as he buries himself in your tits, suckling on and toying with your nipples. He plans on giving you what you want– because trust, he wants it just as much as you do –but he wants to take his time with you. He wants to ravage you in a way he hasn't done before: slowly. With precision and the perfect amount of carnage that it drives you up the wall and wanting more. He wants to give you what he knew deep down all along that you deserved. Not someone to fulfill a fantasy of being useful, but for someone to take care of you. He meant what he said when he told you you were pathetic. But he is too. He wouldn't be basically nursing on your tits had he not been in the same boat as you.

He lets go of your arms, allowing his hands to run up and down the side of your body as he continues to trail his kisses down your body. You shudder when he reaches your thighs, and though he’s been down there too many times to count, you’re feeling brand new. You're not used to it in this scenario, and it's got your thighs pressing together in embarrassment. Peering back up at you, Scaramouche peels your thighs apart, “Nuh-uh. Keep ‘em nice and open. Just like this.”

You nod and keep your legs wide for him, watching intently as he sucks on the supple skin, marking you in deep shades of purple and red, prettily contrasting against your skin. And though they lay beside the marks his hands left on you earlier, he ignores them. View this as him making up for what he's done or him genuinely cherishing you– you don't mind, because you have him. “Scara..” God, call him that again. He looks up at you, laying his head on the plush of his thigh. Had you not known how fierce and ruthless he was, you'd gush and swear up and down he was innocent. “Please, now? I'm so ready for you…” your voice trails as you reach to his head, your left hand playing with the hairs that fall down over his eyes. Usually, begging like the way you are now doesn't get you anything— but this is no longer Scaramouche you're dealing with. This is the him you’ve been longing to know.

With no further conversation, he picks himself up and pushes your legs up to plant your feet on the mattress. He’s climbing on top of you, legs between yours as he pumps his cock, eyes on you as fuel for his libido, spit dripping from his lips to his incoming hard-on. Eyes locked on you, the male positions himself and lines up with your entrance, steadily pushing himself in. You're still dripping from your time earlier, your cunt inviting as he slides in, immediately bottoming out. And perhaps it's the change in attitude, but it feels so different. Your voices are unstoppable, slipping past in airy moans, your eyes fluttering before fixating on each other. He lets himself sit inside you for a moment, relishing the feel of you around him. And it's not like he hasn't been balls deep in you before, but it's only now that he's truly feeling you. Truly being in you. You're heavenly, and that's an indisputable fact.

He looks at you for the okay, to which you nod in response. He takes a different approach in the way he takes you, his right hand pressing on your stomach while the left hikes up your left leg on his shoulder, pulling out only to slam back in. This begins at a slow but deep pace, his hips colliding with yours with wet slaps of skin as a witness. Your moans are beautiful, and he swears they're more real–more authentic, somehow– in the way you sing them out. They sound more sensual, and possibly it’s the way he's fucking you. Taking his time with each thrust, angling his hips to hit the spot he knows gets your toes curling and eyes rolling. With your palms rubbing over your tits, your fingers pinching and rolling your sensitive nipples, you're in euphoria.

And though Scaramouche is taking a new approach with you— this isn't enough. In seconds, he's hiking up both of your legs, pushing them as far as they could go back, your ankles just hardly draping over his shoulders in this new position. He's wasting no time in using your legs as leverage, starting his thrusts again; this time with more fervor. His speed matches the pit of fire blazing in his stomach, his hips going back to what he knows best: fast, rough, and deep. He wants to take care of you, to ravish you sweetly and slowly, and he knows it’d be a preference of yours too, but he sees no protest in this, either. This entire time your eyes have not left each other once, drinking in the sight of one another like it's the first time you’ve seen each other.

Your hands are all over the place, flipping from gripping the sheets to groping your breasts, to reaching out for him, to toying with your clit. You're so used to him having you bound or holding you down that you're completely lost on what to do with yourself. The fact that your moans are even intelligible is crazy to you– you're always gagged, muffled, or told to shut the hell up. You feel so foreign but it doesn't bother you completely, because you've won. It might not have started out this way, and it may have taken 3 orgasms and a brutal facefuck, but you've gotten him to soften up and be real with you. You honestly don't know how, but you're overjoyed because it's not one-sided. You both feel something, and perhaps this can blossom into something more. You’ll just have to see.

You're both floating beyond cloud nine, your minds whirling in a repeated cycle of pleasure and each other. “Scara–! Fuck, I'm close!” your voice is shrill, hardly spoken in a coherent tone. He nods, pressing your legs into you harder before using his body as an anchor to hold them down. His hands wrap around your throat instead, gripping the shaft and applying pressure - the way he knows you like it. Your eyes widen and your mouth gapes open, the tightness of your abdomen feeling as though it's heightening your pleasure. He builds a glob of spit before shooting it in your mouth, watching as it mixes on your tongue before you swallow thickly. “Come on, pretty. Give it to me.”

Your hands scratch at his forearms, attempting to grab on and stabilize your jolting body. Your body doesn't agree, your hips bucking uncontrollably, your mind and body on separate wavelengths. Your mind is clouded, focused on the way Scaramouche is so attentive to your tells; flicking your clit every now and then, spitting down on your cunt, and applying extra pressure to your throat. You're so focused on the way his eyebrows furrow in concentration, his mouth switching between lowly spoken words and lip bites - ones so deep they could've drawn blood. You have a one-track mind, and your body is on several different tracks, mushing the asphyxiation and pressure on your neck with the surging pleasure that pulses from your pussy.

“Right there! Right there, harder, Scara– ahn- fuck!” you're on the tip of falling into your high. Scaramouche is quick to comply, slamming into your pussy hard. His grunts are guttural and more frequent, in sync with your moans as he hits you just right and you squeeze around him tight. “Yes! Pleaseplease – shit!” you're coming undone in no time. A wave of cum spills from your cunt, slipping past as Scaramouche approaches his high not too far after. “Cum in me…please. I wan- I want it ah– it all..!” having hardly come down from your high, you're crumbling apart from pleasure, but you're not too far gone to vocalize your pleasure.

“I got you— gonna give it all to you, princess.” that was it. You both find yourselves shaking, silently moaning as your highs creep up on you for the nth time, streams of cum meeting in the middle and mixing.

He slumps on top of you, your bodies giving out and falling limp. A few minutes of silence go by, and Scaramouche remembers what brought this on in the first place. You two had a lot to assess and a lot to talk about– but you needed a start. “Kunikuzushi.” he says it blankly and lowly. You look down at him, blinking in confusion. “Huh?”

“...Kunikuzushi. That's my name— er- it was my name.” he says, his fingers drawing inconsistent shapes on your skin. “Thought I should tell you…you can call me that if you want.”

With a giggle, you brush your fingers through his thin locks, a smile prominent on your sweaty face. “Yes, sir.”

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x you smut #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #scaramouche x you smut #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader smut #scaramouche x y/n #kunikuzushi smut #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x you #〈 o͟n͟ ͟your ✿̶̲ ͟ queueˏ ⠀ .ᐟ 〉

[minophus]

Have you any thoughts and headcanons on minos/sisyphus/gabe?

I wrote more than i thought i would

i love ponderinf their dynamic all togehter. gabriel is here to make sure everything is in order and minos is continuing to carry out punishments, sisyphus is visitng not just for possible political advantages and seeing if he can get any resources for his people, but also bc with the many times hes seen minos before theyve gotten quite close despite their differed ways of thinking and rule. Gabe uses this for an opportunjty as well to study sisyphus.

minos and gabe - also get along, but minos has a tendwncy to push gabriel to getmore comfortable..Cease donning thine armor, perhaps a toga instead? it will do better keeping you comfortable rather than that armor. they have discussions about his citizens and as the lust renaissamce began to rear its head minos would gush about how his city is flourishing and his citizens seem so Happy in their expression and it would make gabriel so uncomfortable because 1 the council wouldnt like this 2 hearing about free self expression and free will to do what people want to do with their bodies and with others. It cuts a little too deep into his masculinity. Minos' open expressions of femininity make him uncomfortable too as the two of them get closer and minos opens up bc hes shaking gabriels image of a man thats been forced upon him for milennia. Its very interesting.

minos and sisyphus - again, their relationship(not explicitly romantic, they couldnt uphold that) came about through political affairs. sisyphus trying to get resources to his people which he couldnt quite abundantly so do .. Until the renaissance:). they get along quite well time going on esp with Minos defying god as he does fpr the sake of his people Bejng a thing sisyphus seriously admires.. it helps that he has a city and not a wide open desert. minos is verrry physically affectionate w sisyphus not just out of bodily admiration(who wouldnt be. this guy works the hell out hes got good form) but also to combo w his verbal appreciation and admiration of how hands-on sisyphus is with helping his subjects as much as he can in his fleeting moments of grace. minos also has a Terrific libido and sisyphus is kind of the complete opposite of him. He likes to tease minos every now and then about it(can be taken two ways).

minos for the both of them LOVES offering food and fruits and sweets. gabriel always turns it down until that fated apple. Sisyphus absoluyrly tears up any meal minos has prepared for him. He fucks it up. He tears it the hell up. He asks for more and more until he cannot take it anymore(HA) and he will promptly fall asleep less than an hour afterward. After such hard work and such a good meal you can only imagine how sleepy he gets. minos joins him in the bed for cuddles before sisyphus conks out. If gabriel happens to visit at the same time(and if sisyphus let his guard down enough TO indulge and fall asleep)hed. very deep down. be very jealous. he wants to join in.

gabriel and sisyphus - very tense. Always a tension in the air when theyre in the same room. sisyphus isnt outwardly rude but hes very passive aggressive and kind of verbally rips into him and Reads him like an open book all on account of gabriel being an angel. Used by oppressors to further continue enforcing punishments, and he blindly follows them in the name of faith. another tjing sisyphus would call out.

Gabby @ sisyphus hmm, hes very polite w him upon first meeting. if sisyphus wasnt a lowly sinner he'd almost be intimidated. they wouldnt talk much outside of sisyphus prodding about this and that to have any chance to learn gabriels weaknesses, and gabriel does the same albeit not with tactical purposes in mind. i dont think he anticipated a rebellion. Sisyphus upon seeing a Pattern with how subtly flustered gabriel would use that against him(very silly way to passively take out anger on gabriel. he has hardly any control in his layer despite being king. he has so much passionate hatred for the angels. This is how he feels powerful)

..realistically all 3 would never willingly physically get super close solely on account of gabriel and sisyphus. yes gabsisyphus fall asleep w Minos a few times legs intertwined. but the two of them would never happen. But heres the thing im playing with my touys

#asks #gooptalks #i hope so fucking bad this is coherent #these are moreso thoughts rather than hcs. ill get to those at some point #Now i need to read about minos snake

[obscureother]

🌑 f/o list:

i got lots of them, look out lolol.

they come from things i fixate enough on. there's a whole process of how they come about, there's even a thing in my noggin called The Processor, developing f/os. i have other fictional crushes, you can ask for those but its a long list so these are just the ones that i pretend exist commonly. those are the f/os for on my blog.

once more, i dont mind sharing f/os!! i believe fictional people arent owned by anyone but their copyright holders lol, but my version of the character is going to be different from yours, our own experiences, headcanons, etc. even if there could be some in common too, so it doesnt effect me or my comfort if other people love them too. other people who understand the loveliness of the f/o are just who i can talk to and relate to!! i would love to talk about them or yours :0

if you dont like sharing, then i wont talk about them with you so you can be comfy or dont have to interact, thats ok too. i know some people dont for comfort reasons or something. or youre just gatekeepers 👀 /j

there are tags you can block for f/os. if you dont like to share or dont like the f/o themselves, you can block them through "🌑 obscure f/o: 🔲" but 🔲 = the f/o's emoji. the f/o's emojis can be found in the long version of the list below. it doesnt offend me if you dont want to see the f/o or their content!

. 🌑 .

f.o. list below the drop down, its kind of long!! also there's gifs, one of them is a bit flashy, so watch your eyes. if you want the short version of the list without the cool gifs, colors, n details:

Gerard Butler's Phantom of the Opera

Bela Lugosi's Count Dracula

Tim Burton + Disney Headless Horsemen. BOTH of them. 🖤💙

too many robert englund characters- Freddy Krueger, Smiley, Inkubus, other ones, uhhhh=

Jason Voorhees

Data

other f.o.

ones being protected for sake of my comfort, not on the f/o list for the time being. . though they /could/ get their own things later or only on certain comments or posts for them.

there could be some pet f/os, but idk. theyre very occasional for me.

"ghosting" or other f/os that i dont know for certain are there, arent developed yet, dont exist very often, etc.

• ------- ⋅☾ 🌑 ☽⋅ ------- •

by order of existence:

their name or what/who they are!

Source (year of source) - where the f/o comes from

est. (year) - when they became an f/o

other notes - just some other notes :0

they have colors just cause i wanted to make them pretty, the colors dont mean anything specifically. the emojis are just for later reference for f/o content.

. 🌑 .

"Gerik" 🥔 (Gerard Butler's Phantom; Erik)

Phantom of the Opera (2004)

technically not the first f/o ever, but he's the one who wasnt what i consider "proto-f/o"

est. 2017?? i dont remember when i was a freshman in high school lolol.

i have a couple of other phantoms too, but they're considered retired and live in some other world now. they just visit sometimes. those were from the Broadway musical, 1943, and 1990.

Vlad Dracula 🦇

Dracula (1934)

(yes, the old Bela Lugosi one. OLD F/O. <33)

est. 2018 or so, pretty close to my POTO obsession.

there's the Count Von Count (from Sesame Street-) f/o too who kind of stemmed off of the Drac fixation?? 2018/2019 or so, he's the queerplatonic comfort. 🦇 💜

Headless Horsemen (i have 2, i love BOTH of them.)

Sleepy Hollow (1999) & The Adventures of Ichabod Crane and Mr. Toad/The Legend of Sleepy Hollow (1949)

Tim Burton's Sleepy Hollow 💀est. 2019, Disney 🎃one est. same year but later!

They have their own lore + f/o headcanoned names, horses, so these horsemen are different from yours and the canon too.

Freddy Krueger 🥓(yes, Fred, oh god-)

A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984-1991, I don't include New Nightmare in my f/o's lore/tweaks? but I do FvsJ!!)

est. 2021. . ??

He DOES NOT have any relations to the remake, he is exclusively the original series and FvsJ content. i BEG OF THEE do not associate him with it RGRHRHH- (no hate towards remake fans, he's just NOT MY FREDERICK. 😤)

for those of you convinced the original's a diddler too, tho. . not my frederick. <3

The Rob Squad:

this is what i call the f/os that come from me becoming a loser for robert englund after freddy lolol.

all of them est. between 2021-2023 i think. so theyre new, but theyre very developed tho.

there are some other f/os of other rob characters, but theyre not developed enough/formed to be for certain??

includes: Smiley, Inkubus, other ones for later, down below:

Smiley :) ⛓

The Adventures of Ford Fairlane (1990)

VERY lore heavy on my f/o, he has so little on him canonically, so i gave him some. My smiley is def not the exact same as yours.

he has NO CONTENT PLZ- i had to make this gif and i dont have good quality video tools >:"0 the head motion looks spooky fast for me idk how to fix iT.

Inkubus 🖤

Inkubus (2011)

other tweaks/lore to him too. like demon and goat forms 👀

im nOT a loser for old men (normally), just this one >:"0 but we do support loving old men here, dont worry bros. <3

Jason Voorhees 🏒

Friday the 13th (1980, im still watching FT13 so what movies get involved with his f/o form are still being developed. he's very. . ghost-ie rn between existing and not yet existing. they take time to develop for me.)

est. 2023

yes, it does get difficult with Freddy around. *sigh.*

relationship not known?? comfort f/o, bit of lore/tweaks for him too.

Data ⭐

Star Trek: The Next Generation (1987-1994 i think??)

platonic?? im not really sure what the relationship is, he's just helpful and comforting.

Spot included.

est. late 2023/2024, very new & developing as of this post.

. 🌑 .

for the one person who sent me an ask for my f/os: @wicked1will0sparkles

#f/o community #f/o comfort #f/o #fictional other #self ship community #self shipper #self ship #self shipping #f/o list #🌑 obscure f/o 🌑

[mcl38]

they haven't quite turned on vcarb the way they did mclaren but from what i've read that seems to be bc daniel keeps saying "it's not the same problem as mclaren" when like idk dude if the only time you've finished a race ahead of yuki was bc you got put on softs at the end of the race it is smelling very shades of mexico '22 to me. just without the having to make up a time penalty bc u punted yuki off the track.

i can say yuki is already getting the lando treatment though. "hOW MANY RACES HAS HE WON AND YOU DARE SAY HES PERFORMING BETTER THAN AN 8 TIME GP WINNER?" (ya i'll go to the top floor of my apartment and shout it into the void through a megaphone too what are you going to do about it) only this time there's a heavy dose of racism added in. the amount of people i have seen calling yuki a "pokémon" derogatorily and refusing to admit the racist connotations there are wild. not to mention the ableist terms i've seen be used to refer to his height. it's all very gross and yet again daniel says nothing to even try to prevent it. it's wild how someone always has to get harassed by his fans regardless of if he fails or succeeds.

ok so like first of all yikes. i rly rate yuki but im v selective w my online (especially my tumblr)

experience so i rly almost never venture out of my mclaren-centred bubble, which means i never rly see what ppl say abt him. 'pokemon' is actually vile like thats so clearly racist bc its not even a pun of his name at all or any sort of reference to his personality?? AND the fact that its a cartoon w the infantilising implications of that... ku's essay on the infantilisation of east asian drivers u will always be famous.... like u guys ever noticed how nyck is also rly short and has a youthful face and nobody ever talked abt him in the way they talk abt yuki? much to think abt

now. permission to be mean here but even if its 'not the same problem as mclaren' is the problem not STILL the fact that daniel in his 10+ year career hasnt bothered to understand the way the engineering of f1 cars works in like any material way and thats the reason he always struggles to identify his driving issues / has a disconnect with his chassis unless its tailored exactly to what he already likes and knows how to drive? i saw that bit from newey's book about how max and checo give rly good feedback and so did webber and vettel and it was kind of subtly implying that during the bit in between (the daniel era) he designed less effective cars be he wasnt getting enough precise feedback.... i genuinely havent been able to sleep at night since. like it felt like smth slotted in my head like aaaah this has been the problem all along. if only daniel wasnt so busy going on podcasts making fun of the idea of women in motorsport and actually spent some time to do some way overdue physics homework... lol. Imao even

the truth of the situation is yuki is in the best form of his career and also wiping the floor w daniel. like factually so. EVEN with team orders favouring daniel so his fans cant say its bc of that like they did with mclaren. i genuinely think its quite sad the amount of personal stock daniel fans have clearly invested in this mans career and how much it bothers them when he doesnt perform to their expectations - like he's ur driver, swallow it and accept it, because thats what he's been doing to try to move on. doing all this intense online hate bullshit only makes him look bad bc it highlights how badly and for how long he rly has been embarrassingly underperforming. but by this point it feels like they WANT him to underperform bc they crave that martyr underdog victimised figure to root for and fight for - which is why ur totally right anon, that someone always inevitably gets harrassed regardless of if daniel is failing or succeeding. 

i will say one thing which is that i rly dont think daniel is at all aware of whatever the fuck his fans do on twitter and instagram (and deffo not tumblr lmao). so i dont think this is an issue of like him telling his fans to chill out - and it doesnt work anyways, bc lando literally has made talking abt how much cyberbullying sucks a part of his personality and theres still some rly mean and hateful lando fans (not in a fun way like me<3 lol) (i hate on my own blog and in discord groupchats). so like thats not necessarily on him, its more on netflix for making him the lowest common denominator guy to like, ykwim? also the unfortunate reality is that despite the tshirts and the kneeling (or no kneeling) no one rly seems to stand up to defend the drivers of colour who literally constantly get SUCH vitriol thrown towards them w any occasion. im not expecting daniel of all ppl to say anything abt it ngl

#i still think we just have to wait another couple months and we'll start seeing the vcarb is mistreating daniel discourse #ive been on f1blr long enough to see the patterns #anon #ask #daniel #meta #yuki

[hymn-of-muse]

You Belong

An Evangelyne + Adopted Child!Reader comfort fic! requested by anon! featuring Percedal, Rubilax and the kids.

(its been awhile since i've seen season three so i'm setting this just before the main events of that season)

It had been quite a while since Evangelyne and Percedal had found you and saved you from an incident, having taken you into their family since.

Since they took you in they've had two more kids and Eva was now expecting another, and while you loved them and were very grateful, you couldnt help but feel...odd about it.

thinking about it was kind of hard, you werent sure what to call it. you've only ever known them as your family, you were too young to remember any family you might have had before, but you felt so..out of place with this family.

you didnt look like them much, you didnt have any specific traits from your parents like your little siblings had and thinking about this further made you feel sad...

you'd try pushing it down and helping eva with the kids and play with dally but you'd have your moments of suddenly growing very quiet, especially during family moments, and Eva began to notice.

one afternoon while Percedal kept the younger two busy at Evangelyne's request, Eva took you aside to ask you what was bothering you.

"you seem a bit sad lately (name), is something the matter?" she asked gently, sitting carefully on one knee so she was down around your level. "i noticed you get quiet during dinner instead of talking with us like you used to." she pointed out, eyes looking into yours with care.

you felt the same weird sad feeling come back, this time mixed with a shyness that made you look away from her worried gaze. "um...im okay.." you mumbled, clearly not being very convincing.

"its okay if you dont want to talk about it, cher, i'm just here to listen to your troubles. you can tell me anything whenever youre ready, okay?" her soft voice and small smile made you feel a little less shy.

"wel...its just that...i dont look like you or papa, not like Elely and Flopin do, and.." pausing between your words, you glanced over to the rest of the family, Elely had rubilax and was swinging the shushu around despite his many complaints for Dally to get his tot's hands off him.

Eva tilted her head a bit back into your line of sight, showing she was still listening and silently urging you to continue, her green eyes still on yours.

"and um.." you started playing with the hem of your shirt as you spoke "im not from you like Elely and Flopin and the new baby, and i dont have anything cool-im clumsy with a blow but flopin learned from you real quick, i dont know how to hold a sword even when papa tries to show me, im not very good at...fitting in."

finishing your ramble you realized you'd been staring at the floor as your vision blurs and tears start hitting the floor. Eva gently takes your chin in her hand and carefully lifts your head back up to face her, wiping away a few of your tears.

"no, dear, youre very good at fitting in. I understand what you mean, you feel like you arent part of the family, right?" she wasnt smiling now, but she wasnt angry or upset, her voice was still soft...she looked sad.

Nodding, you couldnt help but feel a little guilty for making her sad. She did so much to take care of everyone and her being happy made you happy, you felt bad that your words took her smile away.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, cher." she said, brushing some more tears away before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, keeping her hand gently on the side of your face. "You are a part of this family though, we love you very much." she started to explain.

"You dont have to look like us or act like us to be family, you dont need to hold a bow like me or a sword like your father, just because Elely and Flopin have picked up our skills doesnt mean you have to too, especially not in order to fit in." Eva's smile was back, soft and small.

"Youre family because we love you, just the way you are, and besides, youre my best little helper, (name), what would i do without you, hm? you can find your own special skills, something cool suited for a cool cutie like you, we can figure that out anytime you'd like." She softly ruffled your hair.

you couldnt help but giggle a bit when she did that. Eva gave you a quick peck to the forehead before pulling you in for a hug, wrapping her arms around your small frame. "You belong, ma cher, i promise."

as soon as you two pulled away from the hug, before you could even say "thank you mama", Elely and Flopin were tugging you away.

"(name) come play already!!"

"Yeah! come play adventurers with us!"

"no we're playing monsters and heroes!"

"no! we're playing adventurers!"

amongst the kids arguing, dally scooped you up and sat you on his shoulders. "How about this, little warriors! we play a big adventure with lots of monsters to fight along the way and we all become heros!"

Evangelyne couldnt help but giggle at her husband's usual 'heroic' antics and how cute he was with the kids, her happy smile as bright as ever. you gave her your biggest smile right back, because she was happy and so were you.

this was your family, you belonged here.

#platonic x reader #adopted reader #evangelyne x child reader #child reader #mom + child reader #warning hurt comfort #fanfic blog #fanfiction blog #fanfic request #fanfic writter #fanfiction author #fanfiction writer #reqs open #fanfiction requests #wakfu x reader #x reader oneshot #x reader requests #req oneshot #x reader fluff #x reader #+ reader #platonic fanfiction #reader insert #fluff warning #hurt comfort warning #wakfu fanfic #wakfu fic #x reader fic

[nolsaesthetic]

Hi all! I've been kind of obsessed with Good Omens lately and decided to maybe write a fic about my favorite angel and demon (we all know who I'm talking about)

Since the second I watched the show, I always thought they would make wonderful parents. So here's an excerpt based on that concept!

Crowley burst through the bookshop doors. He was extremely reluctant to come back, especially given the last time he was there. 

They have replayed the scene a million times in their head. Everything she couldve done better, different things she shouldve said, the  anger, hurt, and disappointment that she had felt... 

The demon forced all those emotions down as he frantically looked around the shop. Having kept in contact with Muriel for emergencies only, Crowley panicked the second he had heard he needed to immediately return to the shop. She'd feared the worst, but, as she searched for the danger, she soon came to the realization that nothing perilous was occurring. There was no fire, no damage to the books, the shop looked exactly the way they had left it. 

Taking a moment, Crowley took a breath. Almost instinctively, they reached up to take their glasses off before stoping themselves. Sighing, he let the doors swing shut behind him as he entered in search of Muriel. Just because the danger wasnt as immediate as she had thought, doesn't mean it wasnt there. 

Muriel was soon found in the backroom of the shop. They had long switched their completely white constable outfit for a tan pleated colored skirt, button up, and jacket. 

Although all seemed well according to Muriels usual body language, they seemed to be watching something. 

Following the gaze, Crowley's eyes landed on the floor, or rather, the person sitting on the floor. 

There sat a child. Looking no older than nine, she was coloring what seemed to be stars on a sketchbook. Having noticed Crowley coming in, the girl stood up and dusted herself off.  

She wore a black dress along with a pair of tights and dress shoes. Her outfit was accented with gold, a ribbon tied around her waist and a bow that held back her long blonde hair from getting into her face. But what was the most striking about her was her blue snake eyes and the pair of wings that sprouted from her back.  The feathers were unlike anything Crowley had seen before, being mostly white they faded into black towards the ends. 

Softly, the girl smiled at Crowley, revealing a pair of fangs that looked like a snakes.

"Hello, my name is Eden! What's yours!?"

As she waited from a response, Eden observed Crowley. Suddenly deciding she liked him, she hastily picked up her drawing and showed it to them.

"Look! I drew the stars! Ive never seen them myself.. but I saw them in pictures! Do you like it!?" 

Crowley was still standing in shock. He had never seen any creature like Eden before, he wasnt really quite sure what she was in the first place. 

"Yes.. well um- very nice." They complimented the drawing before turning their attention to Muriel, who was now staring back at them. 

"Could I have a word with you? In the other room." She quickly asked the angel standing across from her. 

"Alright then!" Muriel cheerfully replied before  walking out into the main space with Crowley. Eden watched them go before sitting back down and returning to her drawings.

Once they were a good distance away from the backroom, and Crowley was sure the child wouldnt hear them, they started to question Muriel.

"Who was that?" He whisper shouted, extending an arm in the direction they'd just come from. 

"That's Eden!" Muriel happily replied.

"Ya, I gathered that! But why is she here, is that the emergency I was called to handle?" 

"I'm under strict orders from the Supreme Archangel.." Crowley glanced away when they mentioned Aziraphale, glad that the sunglasses meant Muriel couldnt see it "..to ask you to watch over her!" 

"...what?" 

Suddenly, the two were aware that Eden had wandered into the room. Having heard the last part of the conversation, she stared up at Crowley. 

"Are you Mr.Crowley?" She questioned, her eyes very obviously filled to the brim with joy.

In resonse, Crowley just noddded.

Somehow more excited now, Eden procurred a letter and held it up to the demon.

"I was told to give this to you!" 

Cautiously, Crowley took the letter out of her small hands. On the envelope it displayed the writing 'for Crowley' is a fancy, almost cursive handwriting. They immediately recognized it as Aziraphale's.  Hastily opening it, Crowley began to read.

She hoped it would reveal some answers she desperately wanted. Who exactly was this child? What was this child? Why was he expected to watch after her? Why this so soon after their fight? 

But above all they hoped it mentioned something about them. Does Aziraphale hate her now that she refused to go to heaven? Are they even friends anymore? Why did he leave me..

‐------------------

Dear Crowley,

           I know you probably don't wish to hear from me at the moment, but this is important.  I have reason to believe that the child, Eden, may be important to us in some way. I had found her in a remote corner of heaven where only the archangels and metatron have access to. The poor thing was in a cage. After looking through her file, it seems to me that the miracle we split to disguise Gabriel may have had more effects than we thought...

I couldn't stand to see a child like that, so I've cleaned her up and sent her your way. I know you have it in you to care for her. Somewhere deep down, you are truly good. I'm afraid I won't be much help as I'm preoccupied, though I will keep my eye out for any clues.

Her file informed me that she is half angel, half demon, and can be harmed with both holy water and hellfire, so please do be careful. Through my questioning, it seems she is unaware of much in the world. That's all I know for now.

                                               *Yours*, Aziraphale

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

It took Crowley a minute after he was done reading to tear his eyes away from the paper. It left them with more questions than answers. She wanted to frown, smile, yell, but instead she just tucked the piece if paper back into the envelope and shoved it in their jacket. 

Looking back up at Muriel and Eden, he saw Muriel just happily staring at him, waiting for him to say something. Eden was doing the exact same, almost mimicking Muriel.

They sighed and stated down at the child, putting a smirk on their face, Crowley reached down and ruffled Eden's hair. 

"Guess I'm stuck with ya, kid" 

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

I hope that wasn't too atrocious, I didn't do much editing. If you're curious, I was using she/they/he pronouns interchangeably for Crowley, they/them for Muriel, he/him for Aziraphale, and she/her for Eden, if that was a bit confusing, let me know! I know none of them really have gender and Crowley and Aziraphale often switch how they present, I chose to switch Crowley's up more, though, because we see them present differently more often in the show. Any feedback is helpful! ♡

#good-omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens fanfiction #fanfic #first post #good omens season 2 #they are parents #crowley #aziraphale #muriel #oc

[voidwritesstuff]

Long Way To The Truth

Cw:misgendering (accidental).

Summary: Lucas makes it to Colorado and helps a young kid with their identity.

->chapter 4: Colorado.

By Next morning he was already in Colorado, as he has breakfast in a small cafeteria, he thinks back on last night. In hindsight,he feels like he just pulled a Wheeler and acted as the guidance counselor of three 20 Year olds. And it didnt bother him one bit.

For lunch, he stops at a small family owned restaurant. Its really quaint with its ochre colored walls, the plants growing from the pots placed infront of the blue framed Windows.

He steps through the double Doors made of some dark brown wood, and the smell of spicy,home made food greets him. He relaxes a little, Rolling Back one of his shoulders instintctually to then take off his army baseball cap.

As he joins the line,he sees a young kid going out to take the trash that Belongs to the stablishment. They have long dyed purple hair in box braids, tied up by a yellow and white bandana, they drag the heavy trash bag as they walk down one of the back area halls, the door to said Hall is Open which is why Lucas can see the kid.

--Thanks son!--Says a male voice from the kitchen. The kid seems to scowl and mutter something under their breath before resuming their walk.

Lucas orders once its his turn, as he eats hes contempt to watch the news since hes written down his entry of the day during breakfast. The news show how in a few months,a New ship was going to be comissioned by Mayer, the SS Thanatos.

"Kind of an edgy name,isnt it " he thinks,munching down on his chili. The spiciness of it all Burning his tongue,but he doesnt seem to care." Though, its interesting,why would mayer comission a New ship? What are they bringing?".

Hes quick to Scribble down his thoughts on his Journal in a small spot between his Many little doodles he had done during a particular terrible traffic jam on the way here.

--Ive told him so Many fucking times-- he hears the kid from before say-- its not- its not son,goddamnit-- Lucas perks up at the voice,filled with anger and sadness. Theres this look in their eyes of feeling misunderstood.

He watches them walk away and outside the restaurant through that Hall they went down earlier. Theres a slight suspicion in his mind as to what the kids discontent had to do with, bit he knows its none of his business.

"This ain't a song for the broken-hearted

No silent prayer for the faith-departed

I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd

You're gonna hear my voice when I shout it out loud"

As the News didnt show anything interesting after a while, the owner changed the channel to MTV. Where Bon jovi's "its my life" was playing.

Lucas drums along to the rythm of the song as he walks out of the restaurant. He gets approached by the owner of the restaurant,tall,dark skin and warm brown eyes, he looks worried.

--Hey,Sir. Excuse me- have you seen my son? His-their name is Juniper-- he asked,cleaning his sweaty hands on his apron-- about yay high,purple hair?

It takes him a moment to pinpoint the kid as he puts on his army baseball cap-- uh yeah, why?

--Hes been missing and he hasnt been replying to my calls-- he explains-- he seemed a little annoyed and I wanted to ask him where he was

Always the Smart one, the ex soldier nodds-- yeah,saw 'im by the parkin' lot-- he replied ,gesturing to the opposite side of where the kid had actually gone. The Dad runs away in a panic, and he takes that opportunity to go the actual way the kid left.

He knows he shouldnt have lied,but from experience he knew that sometimes parents would make things worse. And it looks like Wheeler rubbed off of on him because hes on his way to adopt yet another child.

Now that the owner wasnt there,nobody paid him any attention as he snuck into the Hall that the kid left through, it leads down an empty sort of backyard. Theres a small half broken concrete wall that seemed to be the wall that acted as a barrier to a previous,smaller, Back yard and the outside world.

Through the cracks and missing chunks of the wall,he can spot a set of purple hair blowing in the passing breeze. He sighs inwardly and tries to channel Wheeler as he leans on the Fallen wall and says.

--Yer dad's lookin' for ya

The kid gets startled, throwing a small pebble sized Chunk of Fallen wall towards him. He barely ducks out of the way and adds-- nice aim

--Who are you and what do you want?--The kid asks, pressing their knees against their chest. Their locks fall to cover half of their face since the bandana is no longer restricting them.

--'m the guy who told yer dad to go the other way so he didnt piss you off further

The kid looks at him and then looks away, growling-- good. I wouldve ripped his face off.

--Can I at least ask whats pissin' you off before I leave you alone? You look like yer either gonna hurl a piece of debrie at yer old Man or break down cryin'

--You wouldnt get it-- they reply,looking away

--kid, you'd be surprised at the ammount of shit ive seen. Try me

The kid sighs loudly and gets ready to throw another pebble sized chunk. But its not at Lucas, he throws it at a nearby tree stumpt And misses it by an INCH.

--So...so i dont really feel like a boy,or- or a girl-- they start, grabbing another pebble-- I asked my folks recently if they could use well- gender neutral words for me- but they Keep forgetting, especially my dad

"It's my life, it's now or never

I ain't gonna live forever

I just want to live while I'm alive"

God,how loud was the TV? He could hear it all the way from here.

Lucas nodds,folding his arms over his chest-- n 'm guessing thats what pissed you off?

They nodd-- its not that hard-- They followed up-- and it hurts when they dont do it- I call 'em ma and pa but they cant use the words I like?

--I get that kiddo-- he replied,looking at the tree stumpt,littered with previous atrempts of hitting it. His eyes narrow as he calculates the distance between them and the stumpt.-- parents can take a while to accept New things 'bout their kids

--How would you know?--his companion asked, throwing the pebble and missing,again,by an inch.

--well,kid-- the ex soldier grabs a pebble and throws it at the stumpt, hitting it dead in the middle--im Bisexual,and a soldier with PTSD,from a family of soldiers who also had....issues . So I'd get it

When the kid sees Lucas hit the stumpt,they look up at him and ask-- HOW DID YOU DO THAT?

he chuckled-- permission to approach?

--Uh,permission granted--They followed along with the joke,a small excited smile.

Lucas sits with them and grabs another pebble,handing it over. Now up close he can see that their eyes are puffy and a little red,and he softens his gaze-- keep your pulse steady-- he starts,showing them how to fix their aim.

His companion tries again and they hit the stumpt dead in the centre. They look all happy and they smile wide.

--Yknow,your old Man worried about you. Even corrected himself when he messed up your pronouns. -- the ex soldier added as the kid tried again.

--did...did he?--They ask,Setting down the pebble.

--Yup, do you go by juniper?

They nodd enthusiastically-- he even remembered my name?

--Yeah

Juniper smiled and stood up, all happy and with a Pep in their step. Lucas noticed the bon jovi black shirt and raised an eyebrow internally. They tie their yellow and white bandana around their purple hair and dust off their black shirt, they flap their hands a little.

--'m gonna talk to him-- they said,walking past Lucas.

--Hey kid, just one thing. Tell yer dad that it makes you feel bad when he doesnt use the right words. Otherwise he wouldntve known I think, but also know that not all parents Will understand New things

The kid puts their hands inside their pockets-- and what If he doesnt understand?

--Well...-- he trails off and points to the air,as if hes pointing at the music hanging on the breeze.

"It's my life

My heart is like the open highway

Like Frankie said I did it my way

I just wanna live while I'm alive

It's my life"

--I dont like the idea of my dad not understanding though-- Juniper adds, looking a little concerned. Their eyes go to the entrance of the Hall that they came out of.

--i understand but ive realized that well, if it makes you happy then its worth it. Parents be damned-- Lucas stands up,holding Back a wince as his back stings a little. But he manages and leans on the wall-- hell,im drivin' all the way from Florida to Washington

--Why would you do that?--his companion asked-- thats kinda weird --Theres a brief silence and they add-- right,because it makes you happy

--'m tellin' you this cuz when I was your age,I wouldve liked to know that i dont--he makes a pause,hands going to the dogtags around his neck-- that I dont need other peoples approval to be enough.

Juniper nodds,to then perk up as they hear their dad calling out for them-- thanks -- they reply, glancing Back at the ex soldier-- hey by the way,if you go all around over there-- he points at to where Lucas' Back is facing-- youll come out the other way. Just so my dad doesnt think anything weird if he sees you with me

He nodds-- ten four,much obliged-- he tips the visor of his cap like a cowboy would, making the kid laugh at his slight weirdness before leaving for the restaurant.

Lucas goes back to his van through the way the kid told him, and just as he hops into his vehicle, through the outside mirror he sees Juniper and their dad talking. The kid seems dead serious as they talk to their old Man,who nodds and gives them a big hug.

--There we go,happy thoughts kid-- he mutters,seeing a little of his past in the way the father and the kid hug things out. Whenever he would get into dumb arguments with Wheeler,they'd talk it out and hug it out.

He clears his throat,Trying to not get sappy this early in the day,and so he continued his merry way through Colorado.

Switching the radio on, he hears.

"This is for the ones who stood their ground

It's for Tommy and Gina who never backed down

Tomorrow's getting harder, make no mistake

Luck, it ain't enough, you've got to make your own breaks"

But as he drives he notices something in the rearview mirror,a black SUV following along a few cars away. He squints and decides to take an alternative Route he had mapped for ocassions like this.

Thankfully,he does lose them and by nightfall, he stays on a small inconspicuous motel on the outskirts of the state of Utah. Keeping an eye out on his van and resting in between watches

#in sound mind #ism #ism lucas #lucas cole #ism lucas cole #ism character study #in sound mind lucas cole

[dreampearls]

thoughts on tha archon quest

prefacing this with a disclaimer that i watched a playthrough instead of actually playing the quest myself, meaning i missed a lot of in world interaction and open map exploration/lore/immersion that would have usually accompaned my overall impression of an archon quest. also i watched in eng dub which i kind of despise so that definitely affected my impressions of the cast

it was fun!

no huge complaints other than genshin typical pacing really dragging out certain segments but otherwise it was more or less successful at engaging me LOL if albeit kinda predictable or painful to sit through at times

furina :•)

i like her thing, idrk much abt the cultural/religious influences of fontaine beyond the obv french naming scheme but what w the whole mention of The Original Sin + a god manifesting themselves as flesh and blood to live amongst humanity + eventually executing themself in order to absolve all their people of that original sin. i think it could have stood to use more blatantly obvious christian iconography in the quest itself. like apples. or maybe they could have crucified her. just for funsies

are there any crosses in fontaine or does venti have a monopoly on that

that being said i think it would have been fun narratively if they hadnt made it so painfully obvious that furina was putting on an act/horrifically overcompensating for being the archon. like it would have been cool if her act was genuinely narratively convincing for at least the first half. the twist that she (technically) wasnt the archon/(more accurately Divine) would have hit harder but i can appreciate the angle they went for. idk i think its fun to see an archon that for once is kind of completely seemingly incompetent. a loss for feminism but a win for girlfailures all around the world

i saw someone else say this and i have to agree the deal w the whale did feel a bit tacked on at the end LOL... it didnt really feel as well integrated into the prophecy thing but eh

how is childe. does anyone care. actually no

clorinde navia "oh are you wearing a new lipstick?" "yeah, want to try" KILL MEEEEEEEEEEEE

have not seen furinas story quest yet but what are the mechanics behjnd her (assumedly) gaining a hydro vision when focalors' whole deal was sacrificing herself precisely to destroy the throne of the hydro archon, presumably preventing another hydro archon from ever ascending. wh... i guess im just missing something or otherwise misunderstanding what "destroying the throne" entails

STILL IT KIND OF FEELS LIKE AN INSULT TO HER CHARACTER CONCEPTUALLY NGL like she spent centuries parading around desperately as the hydro archon and when she finally breaks free of the curse celestias like.... "oh btw youre actually really cool now and we've decided u can become the archon for realsies" i think i would kill

on one hand, i do recognize how the visions function as a narrative device for self actualization and realize its only a fitting way to conclude her arc, but on the other, as signs of acknowledgement from celestia marking an individual as eligible for godhood, it does feel very incongruent with furinas whole thing

on that notd i feel similarly abt wanderer LOL like okay ignore how logically they need a vision for gameplay mechanics like just narratively it doesnt cohere to me... sniffles...

small detail i like how the focalors/furina divide was foreshadowed by the fact that for every previous archon theyve been consistently only referred to as their "real"/chosen/"human"(in a sense) name by those closest to them, whereas all of their subjects would refer to them by archon name or otherwise (lord barbatos, morax, lesser lord kusanali, etc etc) but nobody has ever called the hydro archon focalors or any equivalent, it was only ever her human/chosen name lady furina

this quest had a Lot of Telling instead of Showing and i physically groaned each time they had to spell something out loud instead of just having the audience put together the (already incredibly obvious) narrative pieces but id say this is a writing problem w genshin as a whole and not exclusive to fontaine

[goremet-chef]

guhh im so bothered rnn (vent/rant)

so... i? idk. ive been out as trans in my house since 2020. my mom doesnt call me dom (sometimes she does if my sibling encourages her to, but she defaults back to my deadname anyways) and ive learned to accept it. i dont think she ever will and its sad for me, the reality that once i start my transition, ill need to just.. leave a lot of my family behind. they think its some rebellious choice like i hate all of them but im more worried about them hating me

my mom says shes supportive but is actively right wing, shes having an inner battle with her ideologies, i know that. i can tell by how she talks about homeless people vs how she talks about us being queer

so. whatever. thats my mom i guess. but for a long time, i wasnt out to my moms husband. i despise him and ive never intentionally started a conversation with him, let alone come out. ive started to not care about what he thinks. i know what he thinks, he thinks gays should die, said it straight to my gay siblings face. okay, cool. doesnt concern me, moms bf is absolutely fucking nothing to me.

to remedy this sort of like... we didnt wanna DEAL with what he might say if he heard both my siblings calling me dom, cuz both of them do, so whenever theyre around they would just refer to my deadname, but i saw it made them cringe, so now everyone calls me 'that one child'

that one, other one, etc etc

no one even calls me my name anymore

it makes me feel so hopeless. ive EXPRESSED it makes me upset but my younger sibling doesnt care (the one most guilty of it), because they dont understand why it upsets me, i guess thats enough reason to keep going

its so dehumanizing to be reduced to actually nothing. i ALREADY have heaps and heaps and HEAPS of identity issues. sometimes it gets so bad i start having crazy ass delusions, sometimes im not even present and its a different part of my mind in my body

its hard enough as is!!! now my family wont call me anything at all

it makes me feel less bad about leaving, but i dont think ill ever leave at this rate

need to start T, change my name, get a job, all in that order. starting T seems impossible at this rate. i.. dont know what to do. i cant keep LIVING like this, because im not living at all

i never leave my house because im too ashamed in how i look, i cant BEAR the thought of anyone else perceiving me as female, i cant fucking do it!!! im so tired. my house is like a prison for me, genuinely.

and my family dont get it, obviously. they think its my choice, im some kind of hermit who doesnt care about being outside because i have internet. they are so fucking wrong. i miss going out, i miss being around people, i miss existing like everyone else, but i just cant do it man. not like this

so it becomes a waiting game, when am i gonna bring up starting it? how do i even move forward once i do? what if she says no? id have to do it on my own but i cant.. i cant even order things for myself without freezing like shutting up will get me out of there, i cant fucking do it

she doesnt even know!! we were in the car together and she was like yknow theres people who cant even make a doctors appointment. what losers.

IM losers, would she have said that if she knew? does she know and decided to say it anyways? i dont know, but its just.. everything seems so hopeless at this point. i want to just give up, accept im not gonna be who i truly am, but man i cant stand being any more miserable

it makes me wanna cry, the only time i get to feel myself how i think i should be is either if i draw something fictitious, or if i spend hours in the mirror making sure i look masculine, my mustache is convincing, etc. AND FOR WHAT? literally for fucking WHAT, because i dont leave the house anyways!!!!! dolled up like i have somewhere to be, like my appearance will get me what i want, when im stuck at home! i got nothing to prove to them, they think what they think

its fucking dreadful. im so scared of my life passing me by, and here i am wasting away in my bedroom for the last 3 years. no progress, nothing. at first, i was scared about even starting T because theres a higher risk of heart disease, but. i dont fucking care if it KILLS me. i dont care!!! if it kills me i dont fucking care im not living the life i want to live anyways. the risk of death is worth it at this point, i mean that so seriously

idk. im just tired, is all. i wish everyone could perceive me the way i dream they would. only time that happens is online, or when im not with my family at all and instead with my friends. but we only hang out like. once in a blue moon

and yknow what? im not even safe then. i remember we were at my friends house for halloween last year (we always meet up). i had my full leatherface costume one, my face was touched up to make it look like the mask. and still. dressed that way, when my friends mom asked me what my name was, i said dom and she was immediately like. "oh, dominique?" no. my name is fucking DOMINIC.

i didnt say anything besides correcting her, but it was such a blow, man. the only time ill be happy is if im closely monitoring every single thing i do, to make sure i dont appear feminine at all. no matter how i look, now matter how deep my voice is. miserable. why would anyone think that id choose this

#tw transphobia #tw dysphoria #tw queerphobia #tw misgendering

[splendontcore]

Disclaimer: this was originally to be a little animatic...but it would be kind of complicated because of the music, the illustrations and because original script was 24 pages long, so i decided to make a fanfic instead. Sorry for any misspelling/grammar error, im still learning!

Special delivery!

It's sunday at Happy Tree Town. June 18th, 2006, fathers day! The low population of this insignificant place with such impressive green architecture was surely celebrating this important date. Who wouldn't be grateful for their father's existence? They didnt just give permissions when mom's doesn't want to, but also carrying you in the good path. Guiding every instance of your life and helping you to take good desicions...However, its a whole spectrum. Theres good dads, for example Petunia's dad, Mr. Kirainai; a hardworking business man who always mind about his family and cares that much about her only daughter that he even created a spot for her in the company which she is going to run someday, what a great heart he has! A dad would do anything for their children after all! But there's also bad dads, Tommy's dad could nail the subjet really well; Mr. Graff... he's at jail, some people especulate the reason was some domestic disputee that ended up with Tommy's older sister taking care of what was left alive...that's awful. And then, there are just dad's...neither good or bad. Most of the town old folks would fit in this term. Perfection doesn't exist, everyone is quite aware of that, but the closest thing to that its the delicious smell that Happy Tree Bakery left in the town's air. It was run by a sweet southern lady and her husband, who were expecting a baby boy, just called Ma and Pop by the town folks. Time passed and at the time this sweet moment happened, it was just the husband who was in charge.

Francis Cooper and their squirrel pet Splendont, named after the Splendid's comic character and not the infamous antihero in disguise obviously, walked to the big ol empty tree stump reused as small bakery, greeted by the smell of freshly baked pastries and the sound of cheerful customers.

-Pop, happy Father's Day! I'd like to place an order for some special donuts.

Francis said, with a gentle smile.

-Thank you, Franny honey! What can I get for you today?

Francis glances at the menu board, pondering their choices.

-I'll have a box of honey drizzled donuts, a box of bacon and syrup donuts, and a box of jelly-filled donuts.

Pop starts preparing the donuts, skillfully drizzling honey, sprinkling bacon bits, and filling the donuts with jelly.

Francis gets s bit curious, wasnt today an important day to remember the importance of dad in their life? Why he was working in his normal schedule insted of spending time bonding with this only child?

-Pop, why are you working on Father's Day? Don't you want to spend time with your son?

Pop left escape a small sigh and keep working in the order as he speaks.

-Well, you see, Franny, my deceased wife always encouraged hard work. She believed that putting love and dedication into what we do is important. So, in her honor, I continue to bake and serve delicious treats on special days like this.

Franci's eyes widen with understanding and admiration.

-That's really admirable, Pop. Your wife's values live on through your dedication. And I'm sure your baby son appreciates it too.

-Thank you, Flaky. At the end of the day, I'll have some quality time with my son. It's all about finding a balance.

Francis smiles, feeling a sense of warmth and connection. Then they tooks their wallet and took some money.

-Here's the payment, Pop. I hope these donuts bring joy to whose receive them.

Pop took the money while smiling back at the them.

-Thank you, Franny. I'm sure they'll love them.

Francis bids farewell to Pop, carrying the boxes of donuts, ready to surprise the fathers in their life.

Then they walks along the quiet streets, a determined look on their face can be seen on. Splendont scampers alongside them.

-So, Flaky, why did you get so many boxes of donuts? Last time I checked, you only have one dad.

Splendont said, while raising one of his stupid squirrel eyebrows.

-Well, Splendont, these boxes aren't just for my dad. They're for the significant men in my life who have been like fathers to me.

Splendont looks intrigued, his curiosity piqued.

-Ah, I see. Pray, do tell, who are these lucky recipients?

Francis stopped for a moment, trying to explain Splendont the significant bonds they has.

-First, there's Stephen's dad. You know...when we were toddlers, his parents used to take care of me. They were like second parents to me when my own dad was still grieving for my mom's loss. Then there's Mr. Johnson, my history teacher. He moved next to my house a few years ago. His own children don't visit him, so my presence helps fill that void in his life. He's been like a father figure to me.

-Oh, the retired soldier with the thousand miles stare? Interesting. And anyone else?

Franci's gaze becomes more solemn as they speaks.

-Lastly, there's my real dad. Despite his struggles with drug problems, I still care for him and hope that someday he can overcome them and be like he used to be in my childhood. He may not be a perfect dad, but he's still my dad.

Splendont's eyes soften as he takes in Flaky's words. He lefts his sarcastic comments behind to speak his mind.

-I didn't realize how many people hold a special place in your heart, kiddo. That's quite remarkable.

Francis nods as they resume their walk.

-They may not be related to me by blood, but they have made a significant impact on my life. And I want to show my appreciation for them.

Francis stops in front of Stephen's house.

-Oh, and I also wanted to send something to my yayo in Spain, but I already sent him a postcard a few weeks ago, I hope he receives it.

Francis knocks on Stephen's door, ready to give the gratitude filled boxes. They stands at the doorstep, holding the box of donuts, as Sofia, Stephen's older sister, opens the door. Sofia rolls her eyes at the sight of Francis.

-Ah, genial, es otro de los amigos inadaptados de Stephen. Stephen, your little buddy is here!

Sofia walks away, heading to the dining room where the family is gathered for the Father's Day celebration. The aroma of Chilean cuisine fills the air.

Francis shifts uncomfortably, feeling a bit out of place, maybe they should planned this to happen earlier. Stephen appears at the doorway, intrigued by Franci's unexpected arrival.

-Hey, Flaky. What's in the box?

Stephen said while raising an eyebrow.

Franci's eyes light up, realizing Stephen is curious about the box. They holds it out to him with a gentle smile.

-Its just some jelly filled donuts, Sniffles, just the onesthat your dad likes. It's Father's Day, and I wanted to give something special to the significant men in my life. This one is for your dad.

Stephen takes the box, a mix of surprise and appreciation crossing his face.

-Wow, Flaky, that's really thoughtful of you. Thank you. You know that you are part of this family too and we all care for you.I'm sure he'll appreciate the gesture, Flaky. He's in the dining room celebrating with the family. Mom made completos, his favorite food. Do you remember them, right?

Francis nods as they recall the numerous timrs they used to eat those overstuffed hot dogs...so delicious.

-Yeah, lous coumpletous, moi gueno...

Stephen's laughs softly about their butchered pronunciation. At least they tries.

-Well, I have more boxes to give this day. Keep celebrating. See ya tommorow!

Francis turns to leave, knowing that their gesture of appreciation will be appreciated by Stephens' dad and the rest of the family.

Francis and Splendont walk side by side, heading towards Mr. Johnson's house. Franci's flipphone rings, and they takes it out to see that it's thei friend, Nathniel, calling.

-Oh, it's Nutty! I wonder what he wants.

Splendont smirks mischievously, nudging Francis playfully.

-Ah, that kid. I bet he's just bored and wants someone to entertain him. Better pick up, Francis.

Francis gives Splendont a playful glare before answering the call.

-Hey, Nutty! What's up?

Nathniel was just laying on his candy cane themed bed. The room was filled with candy envelopes as usual, just the normal panoram in his house.

-Hey, Flaky. I'm just feeling kind of bored, and Sniffles is busy. Thought you might be free to hang out or something.

Francis glances at Splendont, then to the boxes in their hands, feeling a bit torn.

-Oh, Nutty, I wish I could hang out, but I'm actually on my way to Mr. Johnson's house right now. We have some things to discuss.

Nathniel would be lying if he said he wasnt disappointed by the answer, but there's nothing he could do to convince them so he just tried to keep up the conversation.

-Oh, no worries, Flaky. I...I understand. What's going on with Mr. Johnson, anyways?

-Well, it's Father's Day, and I wanted to give him something special to show my appreciation. I thought we could have a little chat too so he doesnt spend this day alone.

Fathers day? Is today? How he could it forget? Oh...because his parents dont live with him, duh. At the time this call was ocurring, his both parents where at his dad's home country, Germany, they had a full schedule of conferences to give.

-Ah, got it. Father's Day. That makes sense. I hope he appreciates the gesture.

-I'm sure he will, Nutty. He's been like a father figure to me. And hey, speaking of Father's Day, I remember you mentioning something about sending a gift to your dad in Germany.

He did? OH, YES! He didnt forget it at all!

-Oh, yeah. I sent him some delicious box filled with fancy chocolates, the best of the best. I even get two boxes for myself! But, you know, I couldn't help but worry about them getting lost in the mail or, even worse, the postman eating them all! They are so sneaky, ugh!

Francis chuckles at Nathniel's humorous concerns.

-Nutty, I highly doubt the postman would eat your chocolates. I'm sure they'll arrive safely, and your dad will be thrilled to receive them.

-You're right, Flaky. I'm just being silly. Thanks for calming my nerves.

-No problem, Nutty. Don't worry too much. Enjoy the rest of the day yourself! I'm already at Mr Johnson's house so I guess have to hung up...Take care of yourself, bye!

-Thanks, Flaky. Have a great time with Mr. Johnson.

Francis reaches Mr. Johnson's front door, ghey ends the call and looks at Mr. Johnson's house, ready to celebrate Father's Day with their caring teacher.

Mr. Johnson was sitting on a cozy armchair, engrossed in embroidering a blanket while his favorite vinyl plays softly in the background. He's lost in his thoughts, trying not to dwell on the significance of the date - Father's Day. Giving a stare to some of his frame photos you could tell he used to have a family of his own. Wife, kids and even a cute puppy. Everything was gone. His struggle with PSTD left him living alone at his old age. He havent heard of any of his children since he got divorcied some decades ago. The only thing he hopes it that at least they dont commit the same error as him to join at the militia. The sound of the doorbell breaks the silence, and Mr. Johnson's face lights up with hope. He quickly puts aside his embroidery and rushes to the door, anticipation in his eyes. Francis stands outside, holding the box of honey drizzled donuts at top. They smiles warmly when Mr. Johnson opens the door.

-Cooper! What a pleasant surprise...I thought it might be one of my children visiting on this special day.

He said the last sentence with a bit of disappointment.

Francis tries to be upbeat and grins at him.

-Well, Mr. Johnson, I'm here to celebrate Father's Day with you! I brought these honey drizzled donuts as a small token of appreciation.

Mr. Johnson's eyes well up with emotion, touched by Franci's thoughtfulness.

-Cooper, you have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you for considering me an important person in your life.

Mr. Johnson's gets his eyes tear filled by the nice gesture of his best worst student. At least someone stills seeing him as an important person in their life.

-You've been more than just a teacher to me, Mr. Johnson. You've been a guiding figure and someone I can always count on. I wanted to show my gratitude on this special day.

They share a heartwarming moment, both feeling the connection between them, just like as a father with their child.

-Thank you, Francis Cooper. This is truly touching. Come on in, let's celebrate together.

They step inside, and Mr. Johnson leads Francis to the cozy living room. They sit down, enjoying the sweet treats and engaging in heartfelt conversation. The atmosphere is filled with warmth and gratitude. Mr Johnson resumes his embroidery session, now with the help of some extra hands to spent the rest of the day.

--------

Francis and Splendont walk back home after some hours, there's just one box left in Franci's hands. Splendont can't resist making a sarcastic comment, as usual.

-Wow, Flaky, I never thought I'd see the day you would spend time inside of that crazy old man house. What are you going to do tomorrow? Cut his grass and make his dinner?

-Oh, please. You're just jealous you didn't get to enjoy those delicious donuts.

They continue their walk, bantering back and forth, their friendship stronger than ever.

As they arrived the Cooper's residence, Francis and Splendont enter the living room, carrying the last box of donuts. But happens that Franci's dad is already passed out on the couch, surrounded by empty bottles and used needles.

-Looks like my dad beat us to it, as usual.

Splendont hops off Flaky's shoulder, transforming into his humanoid form. He looks at Francis with a mixture of amusement and sympathy.

-Well, Flaky, can't say I'm surprised. You should've expected this outcome.

-I guess you're right, Splendont. It's the usual scene around here...

Francis places the box of donuts on a small table near the couch. They leans down and gently kisses their dad's forehead, despite his unconscious state.

-Happy Father's Day, Dad.

They takes two donuts from the box, one for themself and one for Splendont.

-At least I can still honor the important men in my life, even if they're not perfect.

Splendont smirks and takes a bite of his donut, savoring the sweetness.

-These bacon donuts are way too much...but terribley fantastic Thanks, I guess.

Francis nods, content with the simple gesture of celebrating Father's Day in their own way. They walks towards their room, munching on their donut, with Splendont following close behind. Then they both enter, closing the door behind them. They takes a seat on their matress, feeling a sense of fulfillment. Frqncis gazes at the donut in their hand, reflecting on the day and the men who have shaped their life. They takes another bite, savoring the flavor, grateful for the opportunity to thank them.

#happy tree friends #htf #flaky #nutty #sniffles #flippy #splendont #toothy #petunia #pop #the legend of franky jones #fanfic #tldr; francis shows their appreciation for the men that guide him like a father would #tw: drugs #tw: neglect #tw: implied murder #fluff #happy fathers day!!! #Spotify

[wr0ngwarp]

----- finally make an actual exe oc AND hes loosely based on blue knuckles from sonic 3 and knuckles. ya. his name is debug_hero......... rambling about him a little bit under the cut

basicaly the cartridge he was in got totally fucked up and corrupted which ended up killing off the main heroes (and possibly also eggman, after all blue knuckles largely only fights eggrobo ingame). "blue knuckles" (or... whatever i'll call him lmao) was put together from the heroes by an unknown third party in order to continue trying to play out the motions of saving the world, but since everything's so busted he wasnt really. Able. to do that without the use of debug mode, which has corrupted things even further to near-unrecognizability

he has a sort of detached and quiet personality, and has a weird combination of being sort of nihilistic (comes with the package of being a corpse zombie in a broken videogame?) but also firmly responsible and dedicated to his "job." scared of (and prone to violently lashing out at) change and new things even if they're not necessarily bad because he doesn't want to lose what's left but doesn't think a better world would have any place for something like himself. the souls of the og sonic, tails, and knuckles are still kind of present and "attached" to him though and come to the surface sometimes. (he has the memories of all three, which is. overwhelming for him.) HATES anyone seeing his true form for any reason, though even in his "disguise" he still has pretty visibly jerky, limping movements.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic exe #exe oc #blue knuckles #creepypasta #uhhhh how much of a thing are exe ocs even on tumblr. idk. well wahtever #....honestly i wanted to make an oc out of blue knuckles since i was a kid but never had a good excuse to LOL #i also dont really think this counts as a Sonic.exe AU but #people kind of seem to use ''exe oc'' to mean any creepypasta sonic character so ya #also i almost completely forgot to post this to tumblr in the first place. oops #body horror #blood #horror #ask to tag #eyestrain #?? maybe.. #oc: debug_hero

[anakeions]

Alright, ur turn nerd

6, 7, 30, 38. Have fun!

it's CASTOR TIME

6. (Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?) castor is one of the greatest law-flexers of all time. he has it down to an art. and let me clarify: he does not count as a law BREAKER. he thinks he pretty much might as well be following the law he's just doing it in a way that benefits him! of course. this is mostly due to the fact that he's already an intergalactic fugitive with a massive bounty on him and a looming execution LOL he doesn't want to get caught up in any charges that would just make his life worse/tarnish his reputation even further. everything he does is essentially for survival considering he's a space rebel and is just only exacerbated by his criminal situation. if he weren't living under those circumstances he'd definitely break the law more blatantly for the sake of his survival but he makes sure to do things in a specific way where he can argue "well technically i wasnt doing anything wrong" largely for his own peace of mind--he likes to pretend he does everything fairly and right because he's terrified of being a terrible person. lol.

7. (What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?) SNOW. having grown up in what is essentially the arctic snow and general winter activities bring him so much nostalgia and he looooooves it. while he did ... not have the best upbringing by any means it reminds him of home and Simpler Times. any time he finds himself in a cold and winter-y environment he loses all maturity and starts throwing snowballs at everyone who crosses his path and recklessly ice skating and inevitably falling into a freezing cold lake

30. (Who do they most regret meeting?) SMILES. brief exposition dump! castor's family descends from members of a very large group of people called the golden council that existed to properly maintain magic :] the leader was a very powerful entity named marra who LIVED for the council and what it stood for and her entire identity revolved around it. she would do whatever it took to make sure the council went on and she clung to her duty like a lifebuoy. fast forward and that shit fucking collapses and she gets trapped in the void, conscious but unable to do anything for years! until she finds an opportunity to get through to a descendant of someone she once loved and worked with! who was about to be executed for a crime he didn't commit who shared a similar passion as her! HAHA!

communicating with him through dreams, she lead him to her final resting place where he was able to finally wake her up once again, and they began to rebuild the council and its host planet. but castor had different ideas as to how things should be managed and marra didn't like that one bit and their relationship started to crumble and they began to resent each other and now his mentor has turned against him and is trying to take him down by any means possible in order to rebuild the council in her image. queue castor and his crew of rebels being psychologically tormented and being trapped in several time loops until he snapped and killed her. he will never ever forgive himself for trusting her <3 its fine though he got a boyfriend out of it

38. (What memory do they revisit the most often?) castor loves to revisit memories with his late twin brother. though theyre kind of clouded by the Agonies his brother was someone he looked up to a lot and even though their relationship was wildly fucked up by their circumstances his brother was someone he trusted more than anyone in the galaxy and he always considered him a best friend. most of his memories of them together are really positive and while bittersweet he always feel calmed when he looks back on them. i'd say a specific one he revisits most often is when they fled from home for a while and spent their time playing with each other in that harsh ass arctic weather and dreaming of running away and becoming great heroes together when they were older

#THIS GOT SO FUCKING LONG IM SORRY #Im really normal about castor in case you couldnt tell LOL #ty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #castor #thanks for rattling the bars of my cage

[spikeinthepunch]

i have my 2022 art summary queued up and just want to ramble about the last year,... lots of stuff happened, good and bad! been a strange time.

i imagine most followers around have probably been here since late 2020 but 2020-21 i did art quite a bit, but the thing that really stuck for that period was i was super involved in warrior cats RP for some time-- i love RPing and these group also got me motivated to draw too! but i feel like i kind of wasnt around in the typical way due to how consumed i was in it. i dont think i need to go into detail of every month during that time, but it wasnt until early this year where i dropped it, and i didnt really publicize in detail why due to the issues surrounding it, but it was probably the biggest impact on me this year mentally, and in terms of art direction. and i feel like itd feel good to document this in a blog after it has now blown over- and why ive shifted my direction too.

i was very happily running my own RP server for just a year before i had to close it this year and it still makes me sad, as much as i moved on. ARP was like... a very big deal for me and i cant deny that. i dont have a lot of projects i get that into or get even close to setting off with its story figured out. i wrote well over 100 pages of documents for the world and the 6 planned arcs. i drew loads of art i couldnt even share until it closed (tbh im not positive i have shared it anyways bc i didnt wanna post it here). i made a website, i made riddles and code, i developed lore that was far outside of the warrior cats scope to it basically just being original!

truly i have never developed a project as far as i made ARP and to shut it down in order to save my privacy and past trauma from being further exposed in such an inappropriate way really sucked ass. a lot. it was a situation where there was no control given to me, no sense of understanding from the community. im not writing this out now to be pointing fingers and calling out names- just venting how it took a toll on me this year. what had happened with my server was that one of my own mods decided to dig into my profiles and found an old nsfw page, which even more indirectly led to an old flist, which exposed various things i was into around 17-19, reflecting trauma and abuse id been through (in it, voiced wanting to take part in certain kinks; ex. being a victim to violence and dubious consent scenarios). this information was at first presented as a threat to minors viewing my RP page (as in "ppl can see your nsfw profile from the blog!") which wasnt true/accessible as they said it was and required many many clicks to find, and then slowly revealed to me the people exposing this were in fact two of my own mods and was promptly cut off from explaining anything else as it spread in a private mod discord in the RP community. Which was worse to me than everything else that could have happened honestly, and i only learned this second hand from a person who saw it in that discord and thought it was horrible this information was spreading like that behind my back. in some ways things were okay-- i didnt get "called out" openly as i did my best to explain how these pages were not current to those around me, and that they had dug into some deep cutting trauma and a period where i wasnt getting any help to cope properly. it still didnt stop the fact i left every other RP i was in due to connections w those exposing it, and in turn closing my own. i dont want to say im thankful i didnt get called out publicly, but the damage was bad enough in so many other ways because i couldnt continue my server at all, and in the end people's obsession with purity culture in the fandom still made them deem me "bad" because i had nsfw accounts in any capacity. thats not a space i want to be around anyways...

ill forever be thankful for those who stuck it out to the end and witnessed the documents i got to share before closing it for good. but this was a HUGE part of my life for the last years of the pandemic, and i wasnt there for warriors cats- i was there for the people i knew, and the stories i made. i still miss RP a lot, and i want to host projects like that again after moving on mentally from that ordeal.

but my 2022 art summary shows a major shift that was 100% in part to disconnecting from wcrp. humans everywhere! seriously. for a solid few months i couldnt even bare to look at anything related to ARP. i didnt want to think about how i lost this story i developed so hard for so long.

honestly didnt really start drawing properly again until the summer- my art during my HL phase was very very light and very messy. i fell into a hard depression early summer and i only crawled out when i got into mcyt- and even then i was hiding it from this blog. i think i just needed to not feel like i was "online", because August included me joining a onceler RP and again, not saying anything about it. which Weehawken was the first RP thing I had done since i closed ARP too, and it was weird. not the RP itself, it just felt weird to try that again.

and it wasnt my favorite month, i just felt so tired and exhausted- that depression was kinda lingering and drawing a lot for an RP again was something i wasnt really used to anymore.

the past three months have been.... better? or i have at least enjoyed what i am drawing more. i think im far enough removed from what happened with ARP too that it doesnt weigh on me as strongly. i wasnt blaming myself for anything but it doesnt feel good when you know you have to kill something. we talked about recovering it, i had ideas, but i just knew it wouldnt be worth trying to with so much damage caused in my own self, and the impression that whole community left on me knowing people would willingly spread such personal information without question. having trauma exposed after going to therapy and relearning how to use the internet in a way that doesnt lean on trauma dumping and whatever unhealthy bullshit? its quite a blow. i dont make personal blogs like this often because i have good methods to deal with my shit these days.

despite this messy year im doing well. its been ups and downs. overall i know im far more confident in myself, i moved out to live on my own, and im just doing my thing. whatever bull shit happened this year, call out or not, i know im still just gonna keep doing whatever it is im doing. and heres to hoping i can bring a world to life like i did with ARP again, bc i really have a lot i want to tell and show and do.

#2022 art summary #art summary #if someone from wc is lurking and comes to my inbox to shit #i will snipe you on the spot

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

my favourite path of reading is Not Knowing Anything At All Beforehand, at best accompanied by a healthy dose of What The Hells Is Going On (I Like It)

when i was a child i would read novels out of order. not because i wanted to, or because i had the intention to be as weird and subversive as possible (though i still very much had that). most of my reading material came from libraries, which sometimes only had one or two novels from a series, and i tend to be very dumb. i remember i started a YA series thinking it is the first book, but it was at least the second. the love interest had already been won, the mystery had already been revealed, the friend group had already been formed (back then, all YA fantasy novels where kinda like this, there was even a werewolf). and i remember i was so confused. the narrator threw in a bunch of names without explaining anything, expecting me to just get it. and you know what? it was awesome. the story coming together in my head wasnt the one intended to be read, but i had great fun with it. i remember after being done with the book and finding out that it was actually book 2 in a series, i searched all over the library hoping for more of this and actually found the first book, and i just never read it. after the excitement and adventure of book 2, the first book, flipping through it, just seemed so fucking boring to my Already Saw The Best Wont Settle For Less child brain.

i tend to finish dramas at an end point not intended by the production crew, but at a point when the conflict i came there for has been solved. there are so many dramas i just never officially finished, and i never will; im utterly satisfied with what i got, i dont need more. its pretty sad because it makes it hard for me to talk to other fans (who have watched the entire thing, and Know More) on equal footing. i tend to be embarassed and insecure, after all, i literally know nobody who is weird like that. but i also wont change a thing. why should i? if it brings me joy, if it makes me happy, if im content? that is literally all i need.

and i love interacting with stories like that. there is never one correct way to interact, or interpret. sure, there is an intended way. there is probably a way you could call the “recommended” way, like reading a series in chronological order or not reading the ending before reading the beginning. but these, i view them all as mere suggestions. they are supposed to make it easier, or sometimes richer and more fulfilling, but not “more correct”. (there are no rules to reading, or watching, or listening. none.) a story is alive precicely because of that intuitive interaction, because of an organic communication between reader and story (and the invisible hand of the author that may or may not be treated as dead, but whose legacy is still very much alive). i would argue its the way stories need to be interacted with, anything else feels a little bit like you’re killing something; the very nature of a story works this way. they are alive; they are not products, they are not rules, they are almost living beings in that weird kind of way that makes total sense when you know what im talking about.

as a reader (or an audience), you are not creating in the same way as the author (or actor, or director, or any person involved in the pure creation of stories) would. but you are still creating, by telling a story to yourself someone else has made and filling in with your own imagination, your own view, your own feelings, by giving something back of yourself. all creation is magic, all creation is a little bit like making life. like gardening.

#personal #interacting with text & media #joy #i have an agenda.