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zvdvdlvr · 11 months

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Hi there, friend . Please write if you have time a Soap, Ghost, Price, Alejandro, and Konig headcanons about a male partner with really big veiny hands.Hope you have a pleasent day or night .

- 141, alejandro, and könig with a male partner with large hands

☆ - warnings :: some nsfw topics, coarse language, neck snapping, features sub!könig, usual call of duty violence, male reader, short HCs,

☆ - characters :: john "soap" mactavish, simon "ghost" riley, captain john "bravo six" price, alejandro vargas, könig

☆ - k.j.'s diary says... i haven't written for CoD that much so i apologize for any inaccuracies or any out of character-ness.

kyle "gaz" garrick

SLUT ME OUT, SLUT ME OUT, SLUT-SLUT-SLUT ME OUT

bro was flabberghasted when he saw you gloveless- like, yes, he knows your hands are huge because of how easily you handle massive weapons but god almighty kyle almost started drooling when he saw you flex your hand while stretching your arm

silently admires the way you move in battle, your melee attacks, hand-to-hand, etc.

when you are dating, gaz for sure hints at his attraction to your hands if that wasn't obvious

gets turned on when you pin him to the ground while sparring and it shows

goes off on tangents about your hands when drunk

"they just- *hiccup* -they look so good, y'know? they'd look really nice around my ne-neck" (bro was passed out not even half an hour after saying this)

simon "ghost" riley

encourages you to snap someone's neck while out on the field

"christ, y/l/n" ghost (the first time he saw you do that

was drinking tea the first time he got a hood look at your bare hands

needless to say, tea was spilled in simon's lap

when you're together simon would come up with all these bullshit reasons to see your bare hands

not really into being choked, but would love watching you choke someone out

would ask you if you could choke-slam people

the answer was yes

simon loves being flipped off by you idk he thinks its hot

i like to think that while off duty simon can be a little bitch sometimes so whenever he turns around to go sulk he LOVES when you grab onto his belt loop or whatever and turn his ass around

captain john "bravo six" price

tried to keep his cool

also kept really quiet about his feelings

quiet.

loves holding your hand when off duty

so let's say price is the typa guy to enjoy back hugs? even better when he looks down to see your hands wrapped around his middle

has you demonstrate ways to snap/break necks to the newbies while watching with absolute adoration

did i mention price loves hand holding? i did? ok well just reminding you

u dont have to have big hands to know john loves kissing you with one of your hands in his hair and another tugging his belt loop so he's closer to you. hawt.

john "soap" mactavish

smiles widely while watching you snap someone's neck like it's nothing

doesn't even care if you choke him out if you did at least it's by your hands

choking kink question mark exclamation point

loves getting neck/upper back massages (non sexually you pervs) especially after a long day

a true simp.

will praise you till the end of time no matter how many war crimes you commit on the field

johnny likes when you help him trim/maintain his hair

it's such an intimate thing for him and the fact that you're helping take care of something so personal to johnny makes his heart swell

alejandro vargas.

will absolutely bring attention to the fact that your hands are massive

wolf whistles, even.

alejandro thinks it's the greatest thing ever making you flush

absolutely gushes to rudy about it

ok so now ur in a relationship:

ONE TIME alejandro was getting a bit too big for his britches so you stalked up to him and grasped his neck lightly. (if ur taller than him is what im imagining but wtv) ale was turned on

always wants to be touching you or you touching him

when he has free time he'll come find you, cuddle, play with your fingers while tou watch a movie or something

thinks about you jerking him off when you're both in a meeting or in a semi-public space

practically sings praises about how he loveloveloves your hands

könig

ok if your hands are larger than his than yes bro would pass tf out when he realized

would be very quiet about his attraction to your hands but his obvious staring spoke volumes

would immediately want to be slutted out when you had sex with him

plays with your hands when he's bored or really anxious

REALLY into you holding him by his neck and showing you how much he wants to be taken care of

loves when you tend to any sore muscles or wounds

honestly könig wants a simple, domestic life with all of the things hes seen

HAND HOLDING IS A MUST‼

watches you disassemble, clean, and reassemble guns like you didn't have ur fingers in his mouth the night before with a lopsided smile

you both spar together, learning from each other and being the duo that no other trio or group want to fight

together, you both are unstoppable. the admiration and personal connection you both have baffles many

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the-ellia-west · 1 month

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How to make your Readers Feel Emotions for Dummies

(AWWWWW :]]]] Edition)

So... Do you have any cute animals or children in your story?

No?

Then I can't help you go away

Kidding, kidding, you can make AWW moments in your story no matter who or what your characters are.

First

You have to have at least semi-Likable characters (Pets, adorable animals, or children make this wayyyyyy easier)

Likable characters make your readers want the characters to be happy! You can't really get AWWWW moments if you want the characters to suffer

Most AWWW moments come from Shipping or cute baby moments

Second

Decide what Type

whether you want it to be an AWWWW Romance moment, or an AWWWWW Baby moment

There's also #3 I forgot to mention: AWWWWW comfort/sentimental moment

Third

Decide which character the AWWW moment will happen between

Couple, Father/child, mother/child, friends, siblings, doesn't matter - Well... it obviously matters Which AWWW moment you're going for but... yeah

Fourth

What's Gonna happen?

For romance it's usually cute fluff moments - Want examples? Too bad, look it up on Pinterest! No, no, Joking. Here's a list:

Small cheek/hand kisses

A small, 'I love you so much.'

Wearing other's clothes

Forehead touch

Cuddling

Holding BOTH of each other's hands

FACE TOUCHES - Cheek/jawbone is best

Leaning into touch

Careful dancing

For parental figure and Child it's usually a comforting trust moment, a protecting the child moment, or a 'make me proud' moments

I fucking love these and I'm gonna go on a rant Addict, Tired, bitter mentors are so fucking great. There's so much you can do with them Mostly there's 'make me proud moments' The first 'I approve' moment There's 'you've made me proud' moments There's also 'Fine, you're my kid' moments And comforting trust moments hit so much harder when the mentor rarely shows affection.

It's just so... :D

For Friends, You should do with comforting moments, or a 'you don't know how much I care about you moments

Fifth

Soft Phrasing = soft emotions

Use long, calm sentences. No exclamation points or question marks unless it's dialogue. Keep everything smooth and fluid.

Tears are a powerful tool so use them sparingly

Use short words, and use cuter, softer words, metaphors, and adjectives.

Sixth

Have a visible result

Smiles, cute thoughts, cute dialogue, different feelings or actions towards other characters

Stuff like that

AWWWWW moments can be very powerful to characters as they can for real people, they can change so much with little words.

They can be turning points, displays of affection to the audience, turning points of affection, showcases of change, strengthening of relationships, a final goodbye, they can be so much in just so little.

Good Evening and Good Luck with your Writing My loveable Writing friends! you can do this! <3

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mac-lilly · 6 months

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One day, I'll publish the entire one-shot. Until then, here's a snippet. Can you guess the movie it's inspired by?

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

Magic, as it turns out, comes in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes even in the form of a black journal. It’s a songwriting journal and her only way to communicate with Luke, a boy she’s never met yet to whom she feels inexplicably connected.

Julie pauses, reevaluating her thoughts. As she does, she looks around. The room is a mess. Heaps of discarded clothes litter the floor, the desk is cluttered with trinkets and crumpled candy bar wrappers, and the walls are plastered with glossy posters, all of them sporting the same type of grungy rock bands with ripped clothes, wild hairstyles, and scowls on their faces.

Then, she looks down, inspecting her hands, which are larger than she’s used to. Paler, too. The fingers are splotched with ink. Their nails are clipped short, and their tips are permanently marred with callouses.

The hands of a songwriter.

The hands of a guitar player.

Luke’s hands.

Okay, maybe their connection is not as inexplicable as she initially stated, given she’s currently inhabiting Luke’s body.

She shakes her - Luke’s - head and turns her attention back to the notebook. A smile tugs at her lips. Giddiness runs through her - Luke’s - body.

With precious little ceremony, she flips the journal open and leaves through it until she reaches the section reserved for their conversations.

A new message, written in Luke’s questionable penmanship, is already awaiting her.

I landed you a date.

The pen she’s been holding slips out of her fingers, rolling over the edge of the bed. Cursing, Julie dives after it, her fingers curling around it before it hits the ground. When she sits upright again, a second sentence has formed on the page.

With Nick.

She almost drops the pen again. Hastily, she unscrews the cap.

Your creepy friend said—

Julie rams the tip down on the page, almost tearing the paper of the journal they use to communicate.

Her name is Flynn, and she’s not creepy!

She adds multiple exclamation marks and even underlines the sentence for emphasis. Luke, however, remains undeterred.

She gives me the creeps, he counters. And that’s not the point.

He’s right. His fear of Flynn, while not entirely unreasonable, isn’t the point. But it is useful information. Julie files it away for later.

She said you’ve had a crush on Nick for forever. So when he asked you out—

Nick did what?!

— I said that I, which means you, might be able to squeeze him in tomorrow after school.

Julie’s eyes bulge. Scratch Nick. Luke has done what?! So much for keeping a low profile. If clawing her way through the notebook to strangle him was an option, she’d seriously consider it.

You’re welcome. Frankly, no clue why you’re so into him. He’s cute; I give him that. But he’s so lame. Julie can almost hear Luke’s exasperated whine.

Nick’s NOT LAME! He’s—

She hesitates, unsure what to reply.

Kind? Athletic? A good guy?

Julie cringes. Even to her ears, that sounds phenomenally pathetic. Brows knitted together, she thinks feverishly about Nick’s positive traits only to realize how little she knows about Nick beyond …

—a fantastic guitar player.

Which still isn’t the quippy comeback she aimed for but is enough to distract Luke.

Passable, at best.

Julie snickers. Obsessive music nerds are so predictable. She knows that; she’s one herself.

Have you ever heard him play?

Have you ever heard ME play? Luke teases with all the bravado of a cocky teenage boy getting challenged in his field of expertise.

In fact, Julie has. A few weeks ago, she found his demo, and, well, curiosity killed the cat. He is good – maybe better than Nick; Julie is willing to admit that. But she’ll never say it out loud. Or write it down - whatever. Luke would be unbearable.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #luke patterson #julie molina #juke #jukebox #happy juke jeudi!

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cosmerelists · 9 months

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Bridge Four: What Punctuation Mark They’d Be

Previously we considered what parts of speech the Kholin household would like best...for some reason. Next up: Bridge Four as Punctuation Marks!

1. Kaladin: Exclamation Point

We all know that Kaladin is a dramatic boy. When he arrives, he is an exclamation point embodied, usually glowing with Stormlight and there to save the day.

2. Sigzil: Colon

A colon indicates that further information will follow: perhaps a list, or a several-sentence description, or a series of questions. And as a Worldsinger, Sigzil is there to spread information and knowledge. Plus, when he found out about Kaladin’s powers, his first thought was to design experiments to get some good old data points. I can just imagine him writing, “Kaladin’s abilities are as follows:”

3. Rlain: Semicolon

Semicolons connect two independent clauses, much as Rlain, the Bridger of Minds, is able to connect disparate peoples and ideas. The semicolon is solid and steadfast, but does not end the thought like a period does. It brings different thoughts together.

4. Rock: Question Mark

I just remember the scene where we find out that Bridge Four goes to see Rock for advice, and he asks them questions to help them realize what they need/want to do. Rock is the type of person who can help people feel welcome, draw them in, help them open up. So I think a question mark suits him well!

5. Moash: Slash

The slash can indicate separation and difference, but it can also show options and alternatives: and/or, his/her, color/colour. And yes, Moash has some black and white thinking (or should I say “black/white”)--light-eyes vs. dark-eyes, guilty vs. innocent, and so on. But he also represents alternatives: What if justice does mean killing a king who is liable in your grandparents’ death? What if the Singers should be the rulers? What if Kaladin is wrong? So for many reasons, I think the slash suits him.

He also, like, keeps slashing people to death, but maybe that’s a cheap joke.

6. Renarin: En-Dash

The en-dash is a poorly understood and little utilized punctuation mark: it is used specifically in ranges of numbers (like 14–30). And Renarin too had a specific and little-understood power--seeing the future--whose usefulness was not accepted at first. And when I use the en-dash, I have to manually download it because I don’t actually know the keystroke for it, and people tend to need some time to get used to Renarin too, as when he had to work hard to join Bridge Four.

Look, I swear this makes perfect sense in my head!

7. Teft: Hyphen

The hyphen is a support punctuation mark; it doesn’t get used alone, but rather connects together a compound noun or adjective. And Teft, as the sergeant and also as Kaladin’s friend, has always been there in support. He backs Kaladin up, even going so far as to stay behind when Kaladin was somewhat forcibly retired from the army.

The hyphen can also indicate speech or thoughts being abruptly cut off, but perhaps we won’t talk about that.

8. Skar: Apostrophe

An apostrophe shows ownership and belonging: my mother’s necklace, the captain’s spear. And Skar really is all about his love for being Bridge Four. He was the first to rip off the Cobalt Guard Patch in favor of a Bridge Four patch. He was completely crushed when he couldn’t draw in Stormlight at first, because he was afraid of not being useful to Bridge Four. He still helped others learn to drawn in the Stormlight, though. This love for the group and sense of belonging means the apostrophe suits him well, I think.

9. Dabbid: Ellipses

Dabbid didn’t speak for a while, at first because of battle shock, and later because he didn’t want the others to know that he thought differently from most people. Now he does speak some, but carefully. And the ellipses can indicate not only silence, but also a pause before continuing.

10. Drehy: Period

Drehy is extremely dependable--he’s one of the first to back up Kaladin, one of the first to pick up fighting, one of the first to learn first aid. He goes with Skar on the mission to Kholinar, and helps rescue Elhokar’s son after we all (or at least me) thought that Sanderson had dared to kill off the one gay character.

And yes, I wanted to pick the gayest punctuation mark for Drehy, but that’s gotta be either the question mark or the ellipses (right?), and I had already used those.

11. Hobber: Comma

The comma lets you know that this isn’t the end; there is more (of the sentence) coming. And Hobber is a figure of hope: he’s so delighted that Kaladin rescues him, that he’s already smiling even though at that point it was likely that he would die. He loses his legs to a shardblade, but later is able to draw in Stormlight to heal himself. So I think “hope” is the emotion I’d associate with Hobber, and I’ve decided that the comma--the “there’s more; don’t worry”--is the punctuation mark for him.

12. Leyten: Brackets

Literally all I know about Leyten is that he is the armorer. And brackets are like strong, uh, breastplates that, uh, protect the words within?

I’m so sorry, Leyten. I got nothing.

13. Lyn: Em-Dash

The em-dash is very versatile; it can be used in place of a comma or a semicolon or parentheses. And Lyn is a versatile woman: scout, messenger, soldier, Windrunner. Plus, everyone likes her, in book, and I’m pretty sure the em-dash is everyone’s favorite punctuation mark.

14. Lopen: Interrobang

The interrobang is the combination of the question mark and the exclamation mark: ?!. You might say, “That’s not a proper punctuation mark!” but then, that’s the point! It’s Lopen. He likes to be improper, to joke around and try to shock people.

Plus, I think he’d find the word “interrobang” to be funny.

#cosmerelists #cosmere #stormlight archive #Bridge Four #Kaladin #classic rock #Moash #Teft #Skar #Sigzil #Dabbid #Drehy #Hobber #Letyen #Lopen #Renarin #Rlain #Lyn

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starsbits · 11 months

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i think they would be good friends :] eclair infodumping 🤝 coffee candy cookie asking a million and one questions...... compatible flavors of tism (not ship!!)

[Image ID: A digital drawing of Coffee Candy Cookie and Eclair Cookie standing in the guild museum, with a painting exhibit to the side of them and another exhibit to the side that is not in view. There are several blank green speech bubbles over Eclair, with one orange one interjecting with a question mark before another one of his replying with an exclamation mark. Coffee Candy Cookie has her notepad in hand and is writing, and Eclair cookie has his hand up pointing as if mid-explanation. He is also using a cane with an eclair shaped handle. The wax seal on his hat has a double venus symbol pressed in. End Image ID]

#eclair cookie #coffee candy cookie #crk #cookie run #art #my art

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imaginidol · 1 year

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Jake: Soundcheck

[JAKE: hey! U still coming to soundcheck with me?]

Your phone buzzes with the notification from your close friend Jake’s text. You smile upon reading his question, quickly responding back as you picked up the pace jogging towards the stadium.

[YOU: yes I am! :) I’ll be there in 5 mins]

After about thirty seconds from the moment you hit send, your phone already buzzes with his reply.

[JAKE: meet me at the left side of the pit]

—

The stadium is enormous once you walk through the northwest entrance, leading almost directly to the stage itself. It takes you a second to spot Jake, who was adjusting his in-ears and pacing back and forth onstage. He tapped the mic a few times with his fingers and started humming the tune of what sounded like a song by Exo.

[YOU: is that exo??]

Jake, from the stage, pulls his mic slightly away from his lips as he grabs his buzzing phone from a back pocket. Upon reading your text, he smiles, his head looking up and in all directions in search of you. You wave towards him, and he almost immediately catches sight of you, happily waving back.

“How did you know?” He speaks into the mic, the sound of his voice booming in all directions around you. “Sing it with me, then,” he smiles.

You both start singing the familiar chorus of Exo’s ‘Baby You Are’ in unison.

“Baby you are, [the only one I’ve been looking for is you], yeah you are, [all day long you think I’m going crazy], baby you are!”

He lets out a small laugh and gives you a thumbs-up, reaching down to text you something on his phone.

[JAKE: I’ll be down in 5 mins]

Don’t rush, you think to yourself. Enhypen was, in fact, at the last show of their most recent tour, and you didn’t want to take any time away from him for the last of these few special moments. You look back up and smile at him, giving him your most supportive thumbs-up and finger hearts.

About eleven minutes later, after much of Jake humming and singing different songs into the mic — this time actual Enhypen songs — he ends his soundcheck and starts making his way to where you were admiring from below.

“That wasn’t five minutes, sorry,” he smiles, but you wave him off.

“It’s your last show of the tour, so it’s okay! Are you excited?”

“I kind of am, but I’m a bit… nervous?” He laughs, his Aussie accent thickening at the ends of his sentences. Usually his accent was more noticeable when he was overly excited or anxious about something.

“You’re gonna do great, I know you always do!” You say, wanting to lighten his spirits. “Plus, you’ve done this thousands of times. And this time you’re gonna have the most fun, since it’ll be the end of another successful tour!”

Jake nods, a toothy grin escaping his shy expression.

“I hope so,” he hums as he looks up towards the rest of the members onstage, “I really appreciate you coming along to a few of my shows this whole tour. It’s come a long way, we’ve come a long way.”

You nod and assure him well that it was all worth it.

“You know that I like making time to support you, Jake. You’re doing amazing, and I hope you and the other members know that every single day.”

“Thank you, you know your encouragement always means a lot,” he grins.

He reaches a hand to rub the back of his neck, his eyes searching the floor and your shoes before whispering something towards you.

“I, uh, can we talk in private after the show tonight?”

You’re taken aback, hoping you weren’t about to get in trouble for anything. He must’ve noticed your giant floating question marks and exclamation points because he then adds, “No, you didn’t do anything wrong! I just… we just haven’t gotten to catch up this whole week.”

You nod. “Yeah, we can definitely talk. I’ll be watching from the pit close to backstage somewhere, so I can find you after—”

“I’ll come find you,” he interrupts, his hand reaching towards your arm.

You feel your cheeks turn hot at the feel of his hand against your skin, and desperately try to bite your lip to make the terribly obvious blushing go away.

“Oh, okay,” you try to smile. But at this point, you swear you can almost see a faint blush across his face, too.

“Jake, we’re gonna practice the choreo for the title track,” a booming voice from multiple speakers interrupts you both from the stage. It’s Sunghoon, but once he catches a glimpse of you with Jake he immediately waves hello. You wave back, followed by a wave at Sunoo, then Jay, then Niki, then Jungwon, and finally Heeseung.

“See you tonight, then?” Jake gives you one last, hopeful grin before sprinting back up the stairs and towards the stage.

Enhypen have said their final good-byes to all the Engene present at their last show of the touring season, the curtains closing in behind them and the sounds of their hidden laughter and joy still ringing about the stadium speakers.

You wait in a VIP lounge backstage with a few of the familiar staff you’ve grown to befriend throughout the tour.

I haven’t stopped thinking about Jake this whole show, you thought to yourself. When he put his hand on me, he just felt so… different.

A good different.

You’re too lost in your own thought to notice Jake has snuck up behind you and tackles you into a very annoyingly sweaty hug.

“END OF THE TOUR!!!” He chants with the rest of his members. Eventually you manage you (grossly) push him away and wipe off his sweat with a napkin from a coffee table.

—

Once the members have changed and are about to head towards their hotels for the night, Jake pulls you aside at one point once the staff wraps up the last of their cleaning.

“Come, I want to show you something,” he whispered. He turned a hand towards you, palm-up, and you gently place your hand in his, following him to your destination.

He’s brought you back into the now empty, peaceful venue. You stand with him on stage, looking out towards the thousands of seats that were completely filled only about an hour ago. There’s remnants of confetti, stage gifts, and the shadows of a crowd well-loved who once cheered for their favorite group, Enhypen.

“Your last show? It was beautiful, Jake,” you awe towards the vastness of the venue.

“It was,” he says, and you notice that he still hasn’t let go of your hand. You try not to make it known, in hopes that maybe he’ll keep holding onto you.

“But,” he whispers, his gaze dropping towards the floor.

“But…?” You try to meet your eyes with his. “Is something wrong?”

“Uh,” he stutters, trying to put his thoughts and words together as he had rehearsed in front of multiple bathroom mirrors. “I wanted to say…”

You both stay silent for a moment, until he turns his body towards you and places his left hand into your right. Now, both your hands are in his, his gaze nearly melting yours in place.

“I wouldn’t know a better time to tell you this except here, in front of this venue,” he whispers.

“I want you to know that, firstly, thank you from the bottom of my heart for having come to many of our shows throughout this tour. I know it’s an effort from you physically just as much as it is emotionally.”

“Jake, you know I wouldn’t mind any of that as long as it means getting to see you do what you love.” You offer him your most genuine smile.

“Yeah, I know that. But you know, you coming along to our shows has also caused you and I to get to know each other… much… closer? Like, you were my good friend before, but now I feel that you mean more to me than you might think.”

You smile. “I feel that, too.”

“Uhm,” he turns towards the venue, then looks back towards you. “The whole time we’ve been touring, I couldn’t help but realize that… you stood out to me.”

“I’m sorry, I did what?”

“You… you stand out to me. We’ve gone to many countries, many places, many venues, and there will be many more. But… you are still the one person I look forward to being around most.”

Now you’re really blushing.

“Your support and encouragement, I love the most. Your compassion and patience, I love most. Your face in a crowd of hundreds, I love most. You…”

You feel burning tears creep their way up to your eyes, blurring your vision of the precious boy standing before you.

“You, I love most.”

Ah, damn, he actually said it. He actually said it!

“Jake,” you whisper, “do you remember that one song we were singing earlier at soundcheck?”

“The one by Exo?” He wipes a tear off your cheek with one hand. With his other, he reassuringly rubs his thumb across yours.

“Mmhm,” you nod. “If you want me to be honest, the first line of that song is the way I felt about you when I first met you. It’s a feeling that kind of… hasn’t really gone away.”

You can tell the moment that he, for a couple seconds, disassociates in trying to recall the first line to ‘Baby You Are,’ followed by a ridiculous smile once he realized what it was.

“Okay,” he whispers, the grin taking over ear-to-ear now. “That leaves me with only one more thing to ask.”

“Go ahead,” you reassure him.

“Will you let me be your boyfriend?”

You haven’t even finished saying yes! when he gently but excitedly pulls you in for a kiss, his lips parting to meet yours with gratitude and happiness and all the lovely little moments that came in between.

It might be the end of a tour, he thinks to himself, but it’s a sign towards a new beginning with you.

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bfpnola · 1 year

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do you have any tips on managing adhd when you can't get professional help and meds? Especially when I have a ton of schoolwork like 3-4+ important things a day when I can only manage 1-1.5.

hey sweetheart! i'm not sure when you sent this in, so i apologize for just seeing this. i'll try to organize my thoughts into bullet points so it isn't a chunky paragraph:

community! having a support network, for better or for worse, really is everything. (for worse because not everyone may have one, but it can be easy to start building one online at least.) i say this because 1) delegation, 2) body doubling, and 3) of course, emotional support.

delegation, meaning giving out tasks to different folks, can be helpful because then you aren't the only person completing these tasks!

body doubling is something i do, without fail, literally everyday, meaning i do my work in the same space as someone else who is also working because it motivates me to do more! whenever i see my roommate cleaning or typing away, before i even make the conscious decision to do so, i do work too. i even get texts like the screenshot below (literally yesterday) because all of my friends are neurodivergent except maybe one. find a set of friends you can count on for body doubling! there's also in our Academic Resources a site called Study Stream that lets you sit on Zoom with a bunch of other random students but personally that makes me feel awkward lol

[ID: Screenshot of text sent through iMessage, the "heart," "thumbs up," "thumbs down," laughing, "exclamation point," and "question mark" icons floating above. The text reads, "Hey, so I'm working on aleks and doing other tasks and I'd like to have a body double who'd be interested in kicking it afterwards. You interested?" For context, Aleks is a program used to complete math problems assigned by professors.]

and lastly, emotional support, the obvious one. when it feels like you have no one supporting you, excuse my language, but this shit gets hard. especially when you're low on spoons, if you know about spoon theory. you need that support!

i'd also say that prioritization is an important skill. sometimes, you really won't get everything done, and it is genuinely frustrating. i try to order my work by what's due soonest so i'm getting closer work out of the way. but you can also order them by hardest to easiest to do so you knock out the absolutely worst thing out of the way so if you do still have energy you just have little stuff left. OR you can do the opposite so you finish more tasks by completing a list of easy stuff. it's really about what makes most sense to you so i can't really make that decision for you.

reward systems tend to work really well, that or conditionals. what i mean by that is gamifying the process of completing tasks. my favorite example of this is actually a new trend on tiktok created by @/luxarnold and then further developed by @/this.isjules and @/fromwonder. if you don't have titkok, basically these folks have put ALL of their tasks in either some sort of arbitrary numerical order or ordered by the energy it would take to complete, and when they roll a dodecahedron (20-sided) die, it lands on one of the numbered tasks and that's what they complete. the more tasks they complete, the more health points they deplete off of this imaginary monster they've created. and at the end, just like a game, they win a prize for defeating the monster. some creators wrote extra hours to watch their favorite TV show, some wrote time for crafting, some wrote specific objects. video example below:

an example of a conditional to me is more like every time i check my phone, i force myself to at least take a tiny sip of water. and you could do the opposite. maybe every time you consume your favorite snack, you complete one assignment until it becomes like habit.

breaks! this girl once said that you should be taking breaks based not on how much you complete, but the energy you deplete. and i live by that now! it doesn't matter if you completed only 2 tasks. if you can afford to, i encourage you to just take the break if your body feels drained. pushing past that will not serve you in completing those other tasks to the best of your abilities. if you don't feel like you can hold yourself accountable this way, i would suggest maybe checking out Pomodoro timers.

bravery! at least in my case, i needed bravery to contact my professors and be vulnerable with them. not every teacher will be so kind, but if you feel comfortable, please reach out and explain that the workload does not work well for you. you'd be surprised by the number of folks who are willing to offer you accommodations. i will literally text my teachers at this point and say, "hey, i just had an anxiety attack and i know by now how long it takes me to regulate myself. i won't be able to attend XYZ/turn in XYZ, so can i instead attend/turn it in on [insert date]?" ask for that help, but also be clear that you do still want to show up and do your best, you just need support right now!

gentleness. i think this may be my last bullet point. like i said earlier, the reality is that you very well may not finish everything that you need to. this is a long-term piece of advice, but it's necessary to be gentle with yourself. cliche, i know, but it's true. i've been slowly unlearning these ideas of perfection and it's rough, friend. truly rough, because as i allow myself to make more mistakes, obviously things aren't in tip-top shape anymore. but to make mistakes, to be imperfect, to be vulnerable, especially in such trying times, is part of being human. right now, you're trying to conform to neurotypical, able-bodied perceptions of productivity and the truth is that we can't all do that. i surely can't. this world was not built for us, so we must reframe what we consider success. or at the very least, we can carve out our own space, hopefully with others to support us, to provide ourselves gentle care. you don't have to love yourself. you don't even have to like yourself, i know i'm still getting there. all you have to do is recognize that as living beings, really just as "beings" in general because i'd like to think our inanimate objects deserve care as well, we all deserve gentleness.

i know this was a lot but i had plenty of ideas buzzing like bees in my mind. let me know if you need help understanding anything i wrote. please excuse any potential typos. LOVE YOU, MWAH <3

-- @reaux07 (she/they)

#reaux answers #neurodivergent #education #productivity #tiktok #mental health #mad liberation

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gracelesslady23 · 1 year

Text

The Gift

For as long as he remembers, whenever he is given a moment alone, James will sketch and scribble, quill flying over scraps of parchment or the margins of books. Anything to get the ideas out of his head onto paper, whether they are small or big, useful or merely amusing, game changing or tiny tweaks to existing items.

He never thought much of this ‘gift’ as his parents called it. After all, it wasn’t as if he had any clue how to bring his myriad ideas to fruition. And as he grew, he learns that his gift isn’t even particularly impressive, in fact mostly results in him being marked out as weird or silly by the neighbourhood children. Not like his humour or bravery or skill on broomstick, which never fails to make a good impression on his peers.

So, without much fanfare, James starts to hide away his drawings and notes, although the ideas never do stop coming even once he starts Hogwarts.

Overtime James becomes lax, he neglects to guard his scribbles as closely. Until one day in the middle of second year, he lends Sirius a book over the winter holidays forgetting to erase his scribbles in the margins before he does so.

James tries not to panic when he realises his mistake. Its too late to do anything about it, James is already at his parents’ house and Sirius already in London with his family. But he can’t help but chew his fingernails to the messy stumps with worry about it, regardless.

When Sirius enters their usual compartment for the train ride back to Hogwarts, James nervousness intensifies. Will he even still want to be friends with James after this. All James’s previous friends had found the behaviour odd and childish. The idea of Sirius feeling the same way hurts.

But Sirius greets him, Peter and Remus as usual and their conversation continues as it would on any other day. James begins to relax.

It is not until later that night, just before they turn in, Sirius takes the borrowed book out of his trunk to hand back to James. The nervous churning of James’ stomach returns.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Sirius says, tone unusually cautious, before his releases the book back into James’ hands.

He thinks perhaps Sirius had vanished his doodles and scribbles himself therefore saving James the embarrassment of having Sirius read them. It would make Sirius a better friend then the neighbourhood children James grew up with, which obviously James already knows, but… James doesn’t feel as happy about the prospect of Sirius simply ignoring James’ scribbles as he thought he should.

In the safety of his four poster bed, James opens it, heart thundering in his chest.

Sirius hadn’t erased anything.

But he had added to it.

Lines and lines of elegant script: complex spells in latin, mysterious potions and rare magical herbs, exclamation points and question marks, jokes and asides.

James loses hours to the pursuit of Sirius’s additions. Laughing at Sirius’s remarks and gasping at his brilliance. It is as if a fire has been lit beneath his own mind, his thoughts running a mile a minute building and building off Sirius’ work.

When James emerges from his bed the next morning, Sirius is waiting for him. After his long night, James is up later than usual and Sirius is already dressed for the day, his hair impeccable, his uniform artfully dishevelled.

“So?” Sirius asks. He stands stiffly at the end of his own bed as if unsure of his welcome in James’s space.

Words fail him, but his muscle memory doesn’t. James strides forward capturing Sirius in one of their not uncommon embraces, only this time James holds him tighter and more warmly than ever.

“You are brilliant.”

Sirius scoffs into his hair.

“I’m not the one who came up with it all. If anyone is brilliant here, it’s you.”

James squeezes him even more tightly to his chest, burying his head into Sirius’ neck. His eyes growing misty behind his glasses.

James might have once thought his gift was useless, but with Sirius’s practicality layered in elegant script over his messy scrawl, James can’t help but think, his parents may be more right than they are wrong when they called it a gift.

#prongsfoot #prongsfoot wednesday #drabble #fluff #my writing #trying my hand at something a bit shorter #not sure about it #but it was fun to do :)#so hopefully someone likes it haha #hp #sirius x james #james x sirius

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sebvora · 1 month

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LOCATION — The Green Dragon Apartments ( phone call ).

WHO — Sebastian & Phoebe ( @phoebeyates )

Calling Phoebe after the bombshell of big news had been dropped atop Seb and CJ’s heads only felt like a natural course of action, as far as he was concerned. Seeing that he couldn’t necessarily call Jeanie while she was working to let her know what was going on, and taking into account that he was avoiding the disappointed scolding he’d receive from Hunter for as long as humanly possible — well, that meant his best friend was the first one up to the plate to deal with whatever word vomit would come out of his mouth.

If she would answer, that is. He called once with no response, twice with no response, and the third and fourth time he didn’t even let it ring all the way before he was trying to call again. He stopped for a moment, only to text her a nonsensical string of question marks and exclamation points to signify that whatever the hell she was doing was clearly not as important as this.

Apparently, she didn’t think so. He stopped counting around ten missed calls and just felt relieved the moment that he heard something else rather than her cringey ‘leave a voicemail’ recording.

Okay, maybe he played it a little calm and collected before, but there was still a piece of him that was internally freaking out.

“Phoebe! What the fuck, man?! What the fuck do you think this is — time to unplug, you can’t answer your phone?! Bullshit, by the way. I know you’re on this fucking thing like, twenty-four fucking seven. You can see when I’m calling you, bitch.”

He took a breath, loud and pointed, before he continued, “I have news. I just need you to like, promise me that you won't be mad?”

#INTERACTIONS.#ft. phoebe

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c8a2c8x · 2 years

Text

to love you is to see the face of God

➵ pairing : robin swift x ramiz rafi mirza

➵ genre : fluffy, friends to lovers

➵ rating : teen

➵ wc : 3k

read on ao3 | feedback + comments much appreciated ^-^

In such a stark quietness, he looks to the one person in the room he is most comfortable with, finding deep, brown eyes staring back at him. One second turning into two, and then forever, and maybe, Robin wonders, this is what the poets wrote about. This is the feeling he can’t quite capture into words, the reason why his love poem translations always seem to be lackluster and dull.

Robin struggles to translate ancient love poems -- there is an indescribable feeling that he can't seem to capture into words.

Ramy helps him see the face of God.

ROBIN SWIFT is familiar to love. He has translated many ancient Chinese love poems before, despite it not being necessary to any grammatica or his own personal research at Babel. Irrelevant as it was, Robin still did such work alone in his room by candlelight, a quill in his hand. To translate to English from Chinese, much less any other language, was to rip something out of a human chest; a beating heart, a breathing lung. He worked on the translations anyways, if not to know what it felt to express himself across languages, but to imitate the cadence of such poems, the intonations a rhythm themselves in Chinese, a taste of what it would feel like to write of desire to another soul.

Robin knows that his mom loved him. She took care of him as best as she could before the sickness took over, that motherly instinct she performed so well on Robin being turned to her in her final moments. He learned from his mother what it meant for love to look: care, soft hands, a filled belly.

Robin knows that Professor Lovell does not love him in the way a father should love his son; luckily, that particular patrilial relationship is something foreign to Robin, having grown up and been raised by strong, single women in Canton. He learns from his father that love can also be complicated, resentful, and violent. This love does not feel like love, but control. Robin swears to himself to not love anyone in the way that Professor Lovell loves him.

Robin knows that he loves his cohort and that they love him. On those weary, long nights where the homework seem to be endless, filled-up on wine and yelling in their own respective target languages until they end up a heap on the floor, legs and arms, and foreign tongues. Robin, at the bottom of this pile, thinks of a simple four-letter word: warm. This is something he feels, not only in his bloodshot cheeks but in the swell of his chest, attributing such a sensation easily with that of another special four-letter word. He is bursting to the brim in these moments with Ramy, Victoire, and Letty. Still, there is that stinging feeling, something he can’t quite describe, an exclamation point becoming a question mark as soon as the laughter dies down. In such a stark quietness, he looks to the one person in the room he is most comfortable with, finding deep, brown eyes staring back at him. One second turning into two, and then forever, and maybe, Robin wonders, this is what the poets wrote about. This is the feeling he can’t quite capture into words, the reason why his love poem translations always seem to be lackluster and dull.

He remembers a time when Victoire was fighting with Letty over a specific translation of a line in an absolute monstrous piece of French literature, one of revolutions and rebels and the unedying nature of love.

“I believe it would be translated to, ‘Remember, the truth that was once spoken; to love another person is to see the face of God!’” Letty yells, eyes filled with tears. Robin is surprised by such a poetic verse, gasping as the words leave Letty’s mouth. Victoire, who held such romantic conviction with a bit more decorum, combats this translation, instead bringing a much more complicated, extravagant meaning to the table.

“No, no no. You have to also consider what it meant for Marius to meet Cosette in such war-torn circumstances; I translated it as follows,” Victoire gets up on the table, Letty, Robin, and Ramy all standing back to watch a performance in the making, giddy and excitable and carefree.

“Ahem,” Victoire starts, annunciating for emphasis, “The reduction of the universe to only one being, the dilation of only one being unto god, this is love.”

“Oh, lord!” Letty exclaims, and both Robin and Ramy laught at the theatrics of the two girls, their drunken stupor turning into a battle of spoken word poems. Robin is not even sure how both girls ended up with such different translations, but his head is spinning too fast to question anything complicated.

“Well, whatever does it mean?” Robin asks, perplexed. To see the face of God. It sounded indescribable to him, not just the words that were a collection of letters creating meaning, but the utter emotion behind them, the comparison of such a human, corporeal feeling such as love to the intangible, imperceptible figure of a god.

“It evades meaning, Birdie,” Ramy says, looking at his friend beside him. “It is a love as deep as the layers of Hell, as high as the heavens.”

Robin, sitting closest to Ramy, watches as the candlelights around the room sparkle in his eyes, those softer, lighter browns swirling into the darker ones. Robin can’t help but think of potions and hypnosis when Ramy speaks, and especially when he’s looking at him, directing his words to him as if he is the only person in the room.

They stare at each other a second too long, and while Ramy is brave, Robin is wavering, ripping his eyes from his best friend to look back at Victoire and Letty.

The night continues in such a way, revelry that Robin knows to be a love that he is comfortable with, that he can name and point out even if muddled through the deepest of daisy-chains and match-pairs; this love that is the unbreakable, fated bond threaded around his cohort. Robin knows love is that much.

When their party ends and the girls head out to return to their dwellings, Ramy and Robin are left in the living area, the air thick with the unsaid and the difficult. Here is where the thread begins to tangle, a braid Robin cannot brush out. He instead avoids it all together. It becomes increasingly suffocating, however, when Ramy leans it just a bit closer, a sweet scent coming from his collar, whispering to Robin how he works through his translations, speaking his native Urdu and Bengali in such a way that was so tender and soft that Robin wonders if this was a Ramy reserved especially for him.

“Have you been translating anything fun, Birdie?” Ramy asks, eyes half-lidded and deep. Robin finds that he can’t think straight like this, whether it be the wine or the sleep deprivation or just how close Ramy is to him right now, close enough to lean in and touch…

“Yes, well,” Robin stammers, pulling at his collar to fan himself from the heat, “I’ve been trying to translate some Tang Dynasty-era poems into English, but there is obviously so much lost in between the conversion that I worry I’m not capturing the full picture.”

“What kind of poems are they? Any certain rhyme scheme or pattern?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Robin explains, balancing out the words coming out of his mouth with the thoughts racing in his head, “it’s just, I can’t seem to really grasp the meaning of the poems. I know what they are about, but there is just this one dynamic element I keep missing…”

“Can I help in anyway?” Ramy asks, his once loud and witty voice deep, low, and sugar-sweet. Robin feels his cheeks flush, the palms of his hands sweating, and he flickers his eyes towards Ramy and back to his hands multiple times in the span of ten seconds.

“Oh, no, it’s quite embarrassing–”

“Are they love poems, Birdie?”

A few weeks ago, Robin read a few books on traditional Chinese medicine when he stumbled upon a word he hadn’t heard since his childhood. The word was shàng huǒ. This culture-bound illness is caused by an imbalance of temperature in one’s body. Robin thought of a translation for this word and whether the literal meaning of ‘elevated hotness’ would suffice, or maybe even ‘hot air.’ He ended up sloppily translating shàng huǒ into English as “heatiness”, even though this left no room for interpretation, as such a word and it’s definition was innate and culturally significant to those native to Canton. When he was younger, he remembers his mother telling him whenever had had a headache, stomach pains, or even just a craving for something spicy and warm, that he was riddled with shàng huǒ, and forced him to drink a special tea or soup. He would keep inside the house for the remainder of the day, staying cool in order for his body to reach back to it’s regular temperature.

In this moment, with Ramy right next to him, Robin could only describe the feeling in his body as shàng huǒ. He wondered what could work as a remedy, those delicious tea leaves and special ingredients for the childhood soup his mom made him worlds away from Oxford. Though this shàng huǒ was often described as an illness caused by eating specific foods in surplus, he also found some theories that pointed towards the folkloric, a space that allowed for shàng huǒ to be considered a mythical illness, one caused by a conflict of feelings or emotions. Robin was warm, he could tell, and he could also tell that Ramy was closer to him now than he was five minutes ago. The moment around them became heavy, time slowed down and slurred, Robin taking in every inch of Ramy’s face with quiet recklessness.

“Yes,” Robin whispers, “I was reading love poems.”

Ramy inhales at hearing this, his eyes scanning over Robin’s eyes, nose, lips. He bridges the gap between them, resting his forehead against Robin’s and closing his eyes as he begins to recite, something deep and red and humble.

“ Heaven did not seem to be my home; and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth; and the angels were so angry that they flung me out into the middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights; where I woke sobbing for joy .”

Robin, who’s body thrummed and ached and yearned for the boy in front of him, felt tears well into his eyes. He was stunned, so to speak, filled with a ravenous confusion that he wanted answers to, even if everything he needed to know was right in his hands.

“Acton Bell,” they’d both said at the same time, shock registering in their faces just a moment afterwards, and then laughter filling the air of the dark room.

“How did you manage a copy of Wuthering Heights ?” Robin asked the giggling boy in front of him, Ramy’s laugh one of Robin’s favorite sounds.

“Me? How did you? Victoire spared me her copy that she received from Anthony, who had smuggled it from a bookseller in London.”

“Victoire!” Robin laughed, at this point maniacally, “Why, she’s also the person I borrowed a copy from!”

They were insatiable, the inebriation from the wine wearing off but now, drunk on the life of one another, bouncing around the room and their bodies to the point of an excitable, bubbling exhaustion, one that caused them to, if they hadn’t already, make no absolute sense at all.

They’d resume their closeness to one another, close enough to touch but not one person brave enough to cross any boundaries that were seemingly being stretched and pulled and tested as the night went on. First, it was a touch on Robin’s ankle, Ramy rubbing the small sliver of skin between where Robin’s sock ended and his trousers began. When they laughed, Robin placed a hand on Ramy’s arm, leaning forward and resting his head on his shoulder for just a few seconds. They were, if looking from the outside in, the touches of young lovers; this was Robin and Ramy, however, one half of the illustrious Babel cohort meant to change the world with their collected wealth of knowledge in translation and silver-working. It was normal for them to be inexplicable intertwined, enveloped, overlapping one another; their cohort was the only family they had.

Yet, this feeling Robin had with Ramy felt something different than when he was with Letty and Victoire, all four of them together, the complete puzzle. When it was just Robin and Ramy alone it felt as though the world could split in half entirely, the nerves and jitters making Robin nauseous, causing him to take a seat on a nearby couch to get the blood circulating again. Ramy, who suspected Robin’s nervousness, would make the situation no easier by joining his sickly counterpart on the couch. It was Ramy who, when giddy and in-love, threw himself deep into the panic, relishing the rush of adrenaline and the quick-wit reverie of flirtations. It was fun to tease Robin in these moments, who was often flustered beyond relief, and Ramy made sure that Robin was aware that he knew.

“You like me,” Ramy said finally, one hand placed gently on Robin’s waist. After their last fit of laughter, Ramy’s hand had slyly found it’s way to that part of Robin’s body, ever so softly that the other did not realize until he felt his side being squeezed. He’d suddenly become dizzy, and so Robin did what he knew best and reached out to Ramy as an anchor, placing his own hand on his shoulder, a soft touch that could easily be confused for just a comforting sentiment between friends. Ramy moved closer at that point, moving to feel each other deeper, their arms circling one another. They brought their faces together again, noses touching ever so slightly, and Robin closed his eyes, allowing himself to fall into Ramy’s warmth. He felt and heard a soft peck on his nose soon after, and the boy infront of him began to giggle, which made Robin laugh, too. It was soft, so soft, and was an intimacy with one another that they had never shared before and didn’t even know they were capable of.

Robin, who could sometimes be considered easily anxious and worried, thought of what it would be like to love Ramy in complete daylight. What if there was no translations, no strict schedules to adhere to, no Babel? And yet, it was this Oxford, the beautiful, smothering town of twirling spires, that allowed him to meet this Ramy, his Ramy. Robin weighed the options with the boy in front of him, papers strewn around the room, workbooks open in front of them and incomplete. The time of night for rational decisions was long gone; no matter when they’d fall asleep tonight, it’d still be too late to get a good night’s rest. They would have to settle for dark bags under their eyes, constant yawning, and the subtle threat of not waking up in time for class. Still, even past midnight, Robin wanted to be nowhere else but in the sun of Ramy. So he stayed right he was and imagined that there was a world in which Babel did not exist, where Ramy and Robin met each other in circumstances that did not force them to constrain or conform, where they could love each other without any flammable fear.

“Get out of your head,” Ramy tells Robin, “and kiss me.”

It takes a moment for Robin to register exactly what the boy in front of him has said, his face going from surprise to relief. This is Ramy he is looking at, who would never force Robin to do anything he’d be uncomfortable with. Ramy is aware of how brash he himself can be, impulsive and assertive and to Robin, effervescent. Still, he made sure to always let Robin know that he would follow his lead into the dark and unknown. Ramy was unsure of Robin’s interest at first, but with every lingering look, he had become more confident that Robin would reciprocate his affections.

“And how do you know that’s what I want, Mr. Mirza?” Robin asks, smiling as he closes the gap in between them, leaving just a sliver of their lips from touching, from making that once intangible feeling something real.

“Is it something you want? Because I want to kiss you, Birdie. So very badly.”

It’s written on the walls at this point what happens next. Robin barely moves an inch for his lips to meet Ramy’s, and the world falls away from the both of them. It is tender and good and magnificent, the feeling of Ramy’s mouth against his, the tightened, pent-up energy finally exploding into a burst of tiny stars. They stay just like that for a while, warming themselves up in each other, trying to find what’s most comfortable and natural.

Ramy rubs his hands up and down Robin’s back, shoulders, and arms.

Robin kisses the corner of Ramy’s mouth, his cupid’s bow, the tip of his nose, his jaw.

It is a kind of translation that none of them have ever felt before. The translation of touches, of infatuation, of love.

“Is it okay if I kiss you here?” Robin asks, laying his hand gently on Ramy’s neck.

“Yes, please.”

Robin trails lightly from Ramy’s jawline to the base of his throat, kissing the skin just above his collarbone.

“Shall I unbutton right here? Ramy asks, and Robin nods, kissing all the skin he can reach. He helps with the buttons, their hands together loosening Ramy’s collar. Being able to access more leverage to Ramy’s skin fills Robin with something ravenous, and yet he still takes his time working, kissing a bit more forcefully but allowing the moment to stretch for as long as he can. Ramy begins to hum lightly, small sighs escaping without shame to let Robin know that he is enjoying this moment. Together, their body language is joyful and innocent, a reprieve in their life that is constantly on edge. Robin can’t help but shake off the nerves, the excitement rattling inside of him, and he returns to frantically pushing his lips against Ramy.

“I think I could cry,” Robin says in-between the quickness, “I could cry tears of joy.”

“I could die happily now,” Ramy responds, pulling Robin in to him so that their bodies are against one another. They don’t go much further than this, just rearranging themselves or a bit more touch of skin, Robin discarding his already loose tie, both boys pulling their button-down shirts out from the tuck in their trousers.

They kiss until they have nothing left in them, jaws and collarbones and lips sore, red, and throbbing. The boys settle on the couch, Ramy draping the both of them in a knitted blanket. Until the lull of sleep takes affect, they slowly whisper to each other, face to face, small kisses in between each exchanged.

Robin knows that when he wakes up in the morning, he will be drowsy, his homework incomplete, and that he must go back to loving Ramy in the shadows. Despite this, Robin decides that for just this one sweet moment he will suspend time. If he were to never have something so good again and his life, so be it. Right now, intertwined with Ramy, Robin feels something indescribable. He can only compare such a sensation of loving Ramy to a touch of heaven, a taste of ambrosia, the sight of the face of God.

#babel #babel rf kuang #robin swift x ramiz rafi mirza #robin x ramy #babel an arcane history #letitia price #victoire desgraves

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blues824 · 1 year

Note

Hello! How are you doing on this fine day? :> I wanted to put in a request since it's my birthday and wanted to put something in for my favorite blog of yours, keep up the good work!

For my request can I have the obey me side characters with a Amy Kirito reader? From welcome to demon school Iruma

Amy Kirio is a former third-year student in Babyls Demon School and the former representative of the Magical Apparatus Battler. While his demon ranking is Beth (2) and he is considered a physically and magically weak demon, he was the mastermind behind the attack during the Battler Party and the main antagonist during that time.

Despite his harmless appearance, Kirio actually enjoys seeing people in despair and plots to destroy Babyls. He is an executive member of Baal's movement eliminate the current system in the Demon World.Kirio has short turquoise hair parted down the middle and eyes of the same color. He has a beauty mark under his left eye. He has pointed ears and wears ear cuffs, has purple nails, and a pair of asymmetrical horns. The horn on the right side of his head is larger than the one on the left as he broke it when he was a child.

He wears the standard boys' school uniform, plus a short white cape around his shoulders along with a pair of large circular glasses and a choker with a stone that stores magical energy which he received from Baal

Personality

Despite appearing gentle, meek, and smiling all the time at first, it is later shown that he can be quite cunning and manipulative.

He is also extremely perverted and sadistic in nature, deriving pleasure from others' pain and suffering against their will. He enjoys it so much that he'll go to great lengths to cause suffering to his victims and even revel in his own misfortune as shown when Iruma ruined his plans.

He is one of the few who are considered as "Returned to Origins."

Maybe Amy Kirito reader is planning to turn the devildom back to how it was before Diavolo made an student exchange course? Going on to ruin his plans for the course maybe attacking the new human exchange student and showing their true personality

Happy Birthday!!! Sorry if this is late in your time zone! Also, I still haven’t seen this anime, but it’s on my watchlist.

Gender-neutral reader. Physical appearance isn’t described. Blood makes an appearance.

Diavolo

At first glance, you seemed harmless. You were actually one of his first friends and advisors aside from Barbatos. He didn’t suspect anything, since you were on the weaker side on the spectrum of demonic magic. You were smart, though.

Even when you met the exchange students, your attitude didn’t change. You always remained hospitable. What everyone didn’t know was that you were actually working with Belphegor and planned to kill Mc once he got free from the attic.

That’s when Diavolo found out about your true nature. As you saw Belphie dig his claws into you, you let out an exclamation about how the red dripping down Mc’s body just looked so right. The young Prince was immensely disturbed.

He was also distraught. He thought he could trust you, but you only went along with his dream so that you could fill your craving for pain, so that you could satisfy your sadistic desires. He didn’t know who he could trust anymore. Thank you, Y/N.

Barbatos

He was suspicious of you at the start, but he was in no place to question Diavolo’s authority or decision to appoint you as his royal advisor. However, he did advise His Royal Highness to be wary and cautious about you just in case.

Barbatos started second guessing himself when you met the exchange students because you treated them with the utmost kindness that a demon could ever have. Again, he didn’t know that Belphegor had partnered up with you.

The butler realized what was going on and tried to tell Diavolo about it, but the latter was too happy with reveling in the company of his friends. Then the blood was spilled. The 7th youngest brother dug his claws into Mc, and red dripped down.

You had a very aroused look on your face as you exclaimed how good the expression of pain looked on your beloved little sheep. Of course, you were locked up and Mc was brought back to life, but it made the butler realize that Diavolo was gullible.

Solomon

You received each of the exchange students with hospitality and warmth and even made an effort to make them feel welcomed to the Devildom. You led them to Purgatory Hall and explained Diavolo’s dream for the three realms.

Solomon wasn’t very easily fooled, but you put up a good facade. He was worried about your future since he couldn’t be easily killed. Mc was vulnerable and scared, like a typical human. So he stuck by their side.

However, it was all in vain because he couldn’t fend off Belphie once he got free. He was in shambles when he saw the blood spilling out of Mc’s body, and he was angry when he saw the look of bliss and joy on your face.

Oh, you sick demon. Of course you were behind this. He should have listened to his gut and stayed away from you. If he had done that, then maybe Barbatos wouldn’t have to pull a whole different Mc out of another timeline.

Simeon

He already knew of you, since the Celestial Realm has a record of every being in existence. He was aware that you were a demon, but he thought that you would go along with Diavolo’s dream since you were his royal advisor.

You haven’t given him any reason to not trust you, which is exactly why he didn’t trust you. You seemed a bit too flawless for a demon. He would steer Luke and Mc away from you whenever he could, just to make sure that you didn’t hurt either of them.

Unfortunately, the one time he wasn’t there was the time that you and Belphie attacked Mc and killed them. He was in another room, and when he saw Mc’s lifeless body on the ground, he had the wrath of all the angels above within him.

Then there was you, who had an absolutely disgustingly happy expression on your face as you exclaimed how you lovers seeing the look of pain in Mc’s eyes before the light of their life was finally extinguished. Simeon was about to attack you, if Lucifer didn’t hold him back.

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

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Mimi making subtle threats when someone else is playing Reader’s game - 🎁

You pass off the controller to your friend as the monitor lights up. After some convincing, you finally got them to try out a game you've been playing for a hot minute. The story and characters had got you hooked, not to the visuals. There were updates every other day, too, so there was always new content for you to explore.

After the opening scene, your friend tries to start a new game as you instructed, but find they are unable to do so. An error message pops up on the screen each time.

"Error: You do not have access to this option at this time. Please leave."

"Hm." You state. "Never seen that happen before. Just play on my profile for now. We can play the earlier levels later."

Your friend hits continue. The screen loads in on the village you were in before you left off, and the hub of all the games questions. They try to move forward, but realize a cut scene is playing as a rabbit eared woman skips up to your character.

"Hello player! Welcome back!"

You point at the screen. That's Mimi, your first ally and pretty much the most popular character in the game.

A love heart appears over her head as your friend presses continue.

"That's right! It's me again. Here to give you one of Mimi's special lessons of the day."

"She gives you tips on how to play the game." You explain. "But sometimes she'll give random thoughts or facts."

"Today's lesson is: If it's not your game to play, you should stay away."

Mimi hops away after that, ending the scene. Huh, that was definitely new. You brush it off and have them carry on. The longer you play, the more strange occurrences there are. The villagers are ruder than you remember, and don't allow your friend to make any purchases. When you try it works just fine. The gates to the outer planes are bordered off as well. It put a damper on things, considering thats where ninety-nine of the game too place. You sigh- maybe it's some weird update thing.

"I'm really sorry. Maybe it'll work better next time." As you go to turn off the game an exclamation mark flashes over the screen. Mimi appears in the right corner of it, waving a warning sign.

"Oh, no, Player! A robbery has just taken place. We have to capture the criminal immediately!

You quickly hand the controller back to your friend as a timer appears in the top left corner. Mimi's sprite pops on screen, pointing in the direction they had to go. They follow behind Mimi across the entire map; music cutting off as the robber comes into few. They run after them until the chase leads them into an alley. A fight commences, Mimi taking the lead.

"Burn in hell, thief!"

You've never heard that one before. Mimi is usually sweet, and hesitant to fight. With a few pointers from you, your friend defeats the criminal with Mimi. Their attacks do less damage than hers despite your character being the highest level, but they get the job done. A cut scene plays as the battle end where the robber is thrown into a muddy puddle; their hood falling off. A pit forms in your stomach as Mimi raises her spear.

"Give back what you stole and fucking die!"

She stabs them over and over; the character flailing with each hit. Her screams screech through the speakers, growing distorted as black spots appear over the screen. Her model glitches as she keeps going; her short, curly locks becoming long and fizzled. You decide enough is enough and shut the game down. You exhale as you stare at the blank monitor.

"I don’t know what that was... Oh, well. Want to get something to eat?" You look over at your friend. "You good?"

They fall over onto the floor, motionless.

#🎁 anon #Mimi my oc #yandere #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #female yandere #yandere drabble #yandere fic #Yandere ghost #Yandere video game #yandere writing #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling

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