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junggunz · 3 months

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wet ft. owen knight | 🔞

summary: owen is a little obsessed with you. but it's in the best way. cw: fem!reader, smut, shower sex, fluff if you squint, pwp, oral (f receiving), p in v, all characters featured are 18+ wc: 1.8k an: requested! i was gonna post this with the jay jo smut but likee...i made yall wait long enough LOL. enjoy bbys. windbreaker simps plz join my discord server too so we can thirst together-

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

At the start of your day, Owen is practically latched to your hip; standing beside you at the bathroom counter while you brush your teeth and wash your face. While you’re picking out your clothes, he watches you choose your outfit so he can find something to coordinate or match with you. When you sit down in front of the mirror to do your makeup, he’s in total awe—wondering how you could look pretty naturally and in total glam. So smitten with you, every little thing you do captivates him and with every step you take, he wants to be next to you whenever he can.

During your night time routine, it’s usually the same thing. Except for tonight. Owen had let you out of his sight for a couple minutes and you had the audacity to start your shower without him. He hears the water running in the bathroom while he had been cleaning up after dinner like you had asked him to and immediately stops what he’s doing to stomp over to the bathroom.

“Showering? Without me?” Owen asks you from outside the shower stall. You don’t even have to see his face to know that he’s angrily pouting. Pulling back the curtain, you give him an apologetic smile.

“Today is my hair washing day. You know how serious I am about my hair routine.” You tell him, but his expression doesn’t change and he’s already in the process of undressing so he could join you.

“And you know I love helping you with that.” He quips back, inviting himself into the spacious shower and accompanying you under the warm water.

Seeing that you were in the middle of shampooing your hair, Owen’s hands replace yours and gently massage your scalp; the movement of his fingers having a magic like quality to them that has you closing your eyes and sighing contentedly. Without even realizing it, you’re leaning into his body.

“See? Isn't it so much better when you have me to help you?” He whispers in your ear, giving you a light kiss on your temple before reaching for the detachable shower head to rinse out the shampoo carefully. Once that’s done, Owen treats your hair with the utmost care as he works the conditioner into the ends, then slowly pulls away while waiting for the product to absorb into your locks.

“Owen, seriously— you don’t need to do all this.” You mumble shyly, watching him create a soapy lather with your body wash and washcloth.

“But I want to.” He stubbornly insists, bringing the fragrant soap to your skin and gently washing you; leaving no part of your body untouched.

You can’t tell if it’s because of how intimately yet oh so innocently Owen had touched you or if it’s because of the steam filling the shower stall—though it was highly likely both things were factors—that had your head dizzy and your thoughts out of sorts. There was a reason why you weren’t too keen on having Owen intrude on your shower and you were being reminded of it with each pass of his fingers over your slippery skin.

Yes, Owen was the clingier one in your relationship. But he was so charming and so sweet, it was easy as pie for him to be able to seduce you into becoming just as needy as he was. It came as natural to him as breathing; you couldn’t even fathom how much of a menace he would be if he intentionally tried to rile you up as often as he casually got your heart racing. After so much time together, you thought by now you would grow some sort of immunity to his allure; yet here you are, trying not to jump on him and ruin the tranquil atmosphere of the shower.

Silly you for ever thinking Owen couldn’t pick up on how you were feeling.

“Baby…” He calls out to you in such a honeyed voice, the last thing you expect to fall from his lips is him asking to fuck you right on the spot.

Back pressed against the cold tiles of the wall, Owen’s lips kiss every inch of you in an almost overzealous manner after taking your breath away in a steamy liplock. Your lips are swollen and parted as you watch him kiss his way down until he’s crouching before you and hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder. Face buried into your cunt so all you can see is his brilliant blonde hair, your hips roll against his mouth; mewling in delight as his tongue treats you with even more precise care than he had given you while helping you wash your hair. The wet muscle darts out, dragging hot lines over your clit before starting to gently suckle.

Your head is spinning from the sweet suction that Owen’s soft, pouty lips give you. As he amps up the intensity of the sucking, your hands fly to his wet hair and hold on for dear life; his name falling from your lips like a mantra. Fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass, Owen is quick to pull you back down onto his mouth when you lift your hips to escape the hungry lashing of tongue. You taste so good and you’re so sweet to him, giving him more to lick up as you get closer and closer to falling apart. Even though your body thrashes and squirms in his hold to fight off the impending finish, he wants it so bad he’s practically aching for it; just the idea of you cumming in his mouth has jolts of pleasure rushing to his cock.

“Why are you holding back?” He questions quietly, his voice almost inaudible due to the pitter patter of water against the tile and your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

“I don’t wanna finish like this.” You admit bashfully, laughing a little. “It feels selfish—”

You don’t need to explain yourself any further before Owen is slowly rising until he’s standing straight, looking down at you with an affectionate smile; his tongue briefly poking out to lick away the remaining traces of your juices on his lips.

“Aw, baby, you know I love taking care of you.” He croons, reaching to affectionately stroke your cheek. “Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

It takes a lot of nerve for you to directly say that you want him inside you when you cum, but after you manage to get the words out, you’re so glad you were able to find them.

Always so eager to give you what you want, Owen would have been completely fine with eating you out all night without getting his own release; the fact he was able to bring you so much pleasure was satisfying enough to him. But having you tell him that you desire to become one with him does something else. You can feel how much it excites him to have you under his touch when the stiff shape of his cock grazes your skin as he moves closer to you. Lanky frame towering over you, his cerulean eyes hold the normal expression of adoration as he looks down at you but there’s something more carnal behind it. It’s more apparent in his actions when he hoists you up like you weighed nothing, your back sliding up against the wall as he secures your thighs around his waist.

Hands trailing up the vascular surface of his arms before settling on his broad shoulders to grab on for support, you hold your breath when you feel the tip of his cock prodding your entrance. He bucks his hips against you without entering you and just sliding his shaft against the slick surface of your folds; lathering his length with the arousal he was licking up not too long ago. When he finally pushes his hips forward, the tip breaching your hole and slipping inside, you fit him like a glove and the long awaited friction has both of you moaning simultaneously.

“Feel how much I love you?” Owen pants against your skin, his hips sensually rolling into yours as he pushes deeper into your walls until his full balls were pressed against the plush meat of your ass.

“Y-yeah. I love you so much, Owen.” You whimper in response, clinging on to him and look at him with eyes brimming with lust and adoration for him.

“Love you more.” He groans before his eyes close tightly, face twisted into a pleasured expression and thrusting into you at a steady pace.

The already steamy shower feels even hotter with the combined heat of your bodies moving together in unison to bring each other to the peak of elation. Your pearly white essence bathing his cock gathers around the base as his tempo picks up. Toes curling and thighs trembling, your vision is blurred with tears of bliss from the overwhelming pleasure you feel. Hurtling towards your orgasm, your walls clench impossibly tight around Owen’s length and it only serves to encourage him to make things even more intense for you.

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” Owen coos sweetly, a lopsided grin on his face. “F-fuck, you feel so good when you squeeze me like that. You’re so perfect.”

His words sound so far away with how fogged up your brain is but the feeling of his blunt fingernails digging into your ass as hard as he can brings you back to reality. The pain tinged pleasure makes you cry out, each drag of his cock against your slick insides pushing you closer and closer to your finish.

“O-oh, Owen, baby…” You mewl weakly as your muscles tense up just seconds before you feel your body being doused in the white hot ecstasy of your orgasm.

“Perfect fuckin’ pussy cumming so hard for me.” He chuckles lowly, the fierce snaps of his hips unrelenting and getting more erratic as he nears his own end.

Your jaw slackens and your throat is raw from moaning so incessantly, you’re only able to let out a raspy gasp when you feel Owen pumping his thick seed into the depths of your pussy; the sensation warming you from the inside as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, praising you for taking him so well.

Aftercare with Owen is always great, but he really proves to you how deep his adoration for you goes when he helps you get ready for bed when the two of you finally wrap up your shower. Every step of your night time routine is practically embedded in his mind from how often he’s watched you do it. Whether you wanted to call it obsession or devotion, you were just glad you Owen was able to pamper you like this.

#windbreaker smut #windbreaker x reader #owen knight scenarios #owen knight smut #owen knight x reader #junggunz.txt

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itoshi-s · 1 year

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anon requested: rin + "why do you keep marking me up? it's hard to mask and people are staring..." // no lukewarm love v-day event !

wk: 1.5k. cw: mildly suggestive, fem coded reader, mention of bruises/hickeys, fluff. rin wears a panda headband i want to eat him whole

standing in front of your full-width bathroom mirror at 6:43 am, eyes still bleary with sleep and hair sticking out in odd directions, you think you just might actually hate your boyfriend.

you know he doesn't exactly mean to do it - but all sense of rationality is long forgotten when the bright violet, reddish bruises are the first thing you notice in your reflection.

with a sigh, you put your fluffy headband on, keeping every hair out of your face, then start applying makeup. you'll have to be quick with it this time, too - you have hit snooze once or twice, and you certainly don't want to be late, yet still have something else than your face to spend time on camouflaging.

the soft playlist you've put on helps calm some of the annoyance that bubbles in your chest as you hum along under your breath, curling your lashes and applying a final coat of mascara. you put on your lip gloss, smacking your lips as you stare at your reflection, and as the initial bleariness of waking up dies down, you actually feel more amused than irritated upon the sight of hickeys littered down your neck.

rin's a possessive lover. he wants - needs - to feel every inch of your skin under his large, roaming hands. he grabs and kneads the flesh, holds it in a tight grip when he manhandles you however he seems fit. when in the moment, rin doesn't pay any mind whether it leaves marks - in fact, there are times when he wants it more than anything, like when you get home from a party looking just a tad too pretty and the green eyed monster creeps up on him. just want to mark up what's mine, the teal-eyed would mumble, laying on his tummy as he glares at you childishly.

you adore his passionate nature - feel on top of the world and like the most beautiful thing to exist when he gives you that look, overcome with love and desire.

but, for the love of god, you appreciate your sleep and sanity just as much, you think as you dab on the third layer of thick concealer, stacked on top of color corrector that really fucking struggles to balance out the purple hues.

you check the time, realizing you've got to leave the house in half an hour now, and that rin's alarm should go off in a minute or two.

as if on cue, there's a pair of footsteps approaching the bathroom door, then they're pushed open to reveal your boyfriend in all his sleepy glory.

shirtless and rubbing at his eyes, rin yawns as he makes his way over to your side of the bathroom counter. he circles an arm around your waist, broad chest feeling warm against your fluffy robe, and he sighs as his head drops to your shoulder.

"hi," rin mumbles, voice hoarse and gravelly with sleep as his lips move against the bare skin on your neck. he kisses a birthmark there and gives your waist a squeeze, turquoise gaze meeting your reflection in the mirror with an appreciative hum. "y'look nice, baby." a pause, "no eyeliner today?"

you just give a gentle shake of your head, eyebrows twitching to furrow and lips almost curling into a smirk. he's so, so clueless - it's endearing, in a way, you think as you watch him slip away and stand by the second sink.

"mm. don't have time for it today." you say softly, stuffing your powder brush back into your makeup bag and zipping it close.

perhaps your voice sounds a bit too quiet, or the exhaustion is still prominent on your features despite the glowy products you so carefully put on, cause rin's eyes drift back to life and gleam with worry.

he turns the faucet on and fiddles with the temperature, giving your face an once-over in the mirror before turning to the sink again.

"oh." he nods, fingers reaching for the fluffy, panda-eared headband you took off barely a few seconds ago. pulling it on with ease, rin wants to say something more, but dismisses it and goes to wash his face instead.

the water, as nice as it feels on his face, doesn't wash off any of this funny, uneasy feeling. is something wrong? are you mad at him? do you feel bad and shouldn't go to work today? (he will make you call it off if that's the case. there's no way you're going in sick.)

there's many possibilities, and he won't be certain until he asks. dabbing his face off with a towel, rin clears his throat to speak before turning to you - but you beat him to it.

"rin," you begin, voice sounding so resigned it makes his brows knit together. "why do you keep marking me up?"

blinking not once, not twice, but perhaps a few times too many, he does look so clueless, so silly, you have to bite back a laugh. you're supposed to be annoyed with him - but how can you really, when he's just doing all that out of bottomless, unconditional love?

continuing, "it's hard to mask and people are staring..." you trail off, giving yourself a glance in the mirror, head tilting to show more of the poorly concealed marks, as if to prove your point.

you look back at rin, who now doesn't look as puzzled anymore. instead, there's a slight frown settled in his pretty features, long lashes still damp and stuck together, lips pulled into a tight line that almost resembles a pout.

the black, fluffy ears sticking out from messy green hair really sell the look, though.

"what do you mean?" rin argues, and you go to sigh, crossing your arms. "you cover these up?"

your eyes widen, snapping over to the striker's face again. for a second, you think you've misheard him - but in fact, he does look as serious as it gets. your heart jolts with shock, flabbergasted at how truly, utterly shameless he is.

"rin!" you gasp, finger pointing to the side of your neck in exasperation. "of course i do! i can't go around work like that," you insist, tugging the hem of your robe to the side.

the man scowls, eyes trained on the faint pinks and purples. "well i don't see anythin' wrong with it," he deadpans and your shoulders slump in defeat. rin turns to face the mirror again, reaching for his toothbrush.

"everyone else does," you whine, pulling at the tie around your waist and sliding the robe off. you go to hang it up, then reach for the clothes you've neatly folded and laid on the counter last night. "i... like the way they look. and feel." you start bashfully, eyes trained on the ground when you step into your dress pants and swiftly pull them up your legs.

rin smirks at that, just slightly before you can see it and smack it right off his face.

you're quiet for a second, and rin takes the time to trail his eyes down your body as he sticks the toothbrush in his mouth. well, to be fair, there are quite a few bruises littered all over, some darker than others. there's a bite mark-shaped one, too, right on the swell of your breast, which you go to cover with the skin tight long sleeve you put on next.

(he fears your reaction when you go to look into the mirror and see it peeking out the neckline.)

it might irk you, and make people uncomfortable or amused, even - but he loves the way they look on your skin, a sharp contract to the smooth, glowy canvas, momentarily stained with his love that runs oh, so feverishly through every single cell in his body.

isn't it only natural he wants to find an output for it and eventually mark what's his?

"but-" you continue, fixing the gold charm between your breasts, the small, zirconia-studded R glimmering under the bathroom lights. "i'd appreciate it if you... kept it down." you mumble, looking up at rin again and your gaze meets his in the mirror.

rin rolls his eyes dramatically, lips quirking up into a ghost of a smile as he brushes his teeth. perhaps, he can try and opt for more... hidden places. it's not ideal - the need to showcase his claim on you still as strong as ever - but not everyone can pay so little mind to what others think of him like he does. certainly, you can't. not with your line of work, either.

he knows, and that's why it almost feels funny when his heart thumps in his chest with refusal. maybe he is a little immature, in a way - but maybe, it's not such a bad thing at all. not when it's your love that makes him feel like a kid, carefree and playful again.

"fine." rin grumbles, words muffled around the brush as he works it on the back of his teeth, sending you an amused look that has your tummy doing flips. "will hav'ta find other ways to mark my territory, though."

#୨୧ 𝑁𝑂 𝐿𝑈𝐾𝐸𝑊𝐴𝑅𝑀 𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸 #✧.* zaria writes #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #blue lock imagines #blue lock scenario #bllk imagines

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peterparkersnose · 2 years

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Domestically

word count: 1k

warnings: mentions of weapons, body insecurity, fluff

a/n javier pena pls. enjoy my first javi fic, i like keeping them short for the short attention span girlies

summary Javi get’s locked out of his apartment and disrupts Y/N’s night off

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 2 mins 46 seconds

It was the quietist night you have encountered in a while. An occasional dog bark, a possible distant gunshot (or car backfire). The Colombian air was cool and had a smell of winter in it. October was coming to a close. And the best thing about tonight is that it was your night off.

You had finished drying your hair from your shower. Happily, you decided to go for your favorite at-home outfit: black biker shorts and an old oversized baseball tee shirt you stole from your dad in the states. The perfect at home combo for the bipolar weather and nights like this.

Your hair had already started to frizz, you could never escape the frizz. Besides for copious amounts of hair products that you loaded onto your head every morning, this was your natural state. You placed your contacts in their case and made sure your glasses were in range. You dreaded the things, but you didn’t feel like tripping on anything on the way to your bathroom at four am.

Alarm was set, work outfit for tomorrow was set, meds were taken and door was locked. Lights out at 9pm. Your idea of a perfect night.

You felt your dream coming to a close as a loud banging noise got louder and louder. Finally, it was enough to register that it wasn’t coming from the dream. Grabbing your gun from under the bed, you checked to make sure there were bullets in it. You crammed your glasses on your face and tip toed your way through your dimly lit apartment.

The sound was coming from outside.

Your door handle was shaking. As you got closer, you heard the familiar “Goddamnit Y/N,” grunting from outside the door.

Peña.

A sigh released from your mouth as you opened the door. You placed the gun on your table next to the door.

“Can you let me-” he began to say, meeting your eyes.

He took in every inch of you like he had never seen you before. Your beautiful hair in disarray. The thick black frames resting on your perfect nose. The such casual attire took him aback.

His stomach churned, he got nauseous and anxious and excited and turned on all at the same time. It was something he had always felt inklings of around you, but now they proved themselves to be more than inklings. The feeling he had only felt for you. No other girl he had ever been with compares to what this feels like. Not even close.

Javier Peña realized he was in love.

In love with his co-worker.

Y/N felt the pit in her stomach grow larger by the second. “Please stop staring,” you muttered out almost as a whisper, crossing your hands awkwardly across your torso.

He seemed to snap back into reality. “Oh, I-I’m here because I left my key at the office and I know your just a floor away and…”

Javier couldn’t get past the fact that he was seeing you in your infamous glasses that you swore up and down nobody would ever see you in.

You noticed the blush rising off of his cheeks. He wasn’t judging- was he checking you out?

“Yeah, one sec.” you sighed, motioning for him to come in. You two had exchanged apartment keys when you first moved in for emergencies. He lived a floor below you in your complex.

“I’m sorry for before,” he apologized. “Before?” you asked, your mind scanning the events of today. You rummaged through your junk drawer as he stood awkwardly in your kitchen. Straightening your back, you turned to meet his gaze.

“Like thirty seconds ago,” he spit out, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve just never seen you like this. Like-” he hesitated, searching for the right word to say. It was rare when Javier Peña was speechless.

“Domestically?” you asked him, smirking at your witty response. You tilted your hips slightly against your kitchen table.

His eyes widened in response, agreeing with you.

“Here,” you smiled, dropping the key in his hand.

His eyes met yours and he had trapped you in his gaze. Your breathe shuttered as he looked you up and down once again.

“Domestically, yeah.” he whispered slowly.

The magical force pulled the two of you together. “Why did you stare,” you finally asked, breaking the longing silence. “When you first came to my door?”

“You want an honest answer?” he asked you, you could feel his breathe on you now that he was so close. You shook your head slowly and swallowed.

“Because I could get used to seeing that every day,”

A chill went down your spine.

“Thanks for the key.” he said, taking his hand off your waist. You didn’t even notice that his arm wrapped around your hips until the cold absence of it made itself known.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, cariño.”

He closed your door softly as you stood stunned in the kitchen.

Y/N L/N realized she was in love.

In love with her co worker.

tag list: list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry

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limbus-limousine · 3 months

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Keep saying this but I loooove how relationships are talked about and portrayed in Demian (1919). Like. To an insane degree that I can barely put into words. It bothers me how overlooked it is sometimes? People always have a tendency to shove fictional relationships into very cramped, defined little boxes and then fight over the plastic label.

The way relationships are seen in Demian is one of the main reasons why I hold this book so close to my heart, because it was the first time I saw my thoughts put into words that I could analyze and study. That and the whole premise of how growing up in a religiously oppressive environment disguised with love and purity will inevitably affect how you process your feelings toward others... Makes me relate to Sinclair a lot. And it feels like a gross oversimplification to restrict his feelings as platonic or romantic.

I've talked about how I see Demian and Eva as extremely related entities before, how they are essentially the same. But I think their distinction as physical characters is very useful for the storytelling and symbolism. As I see it, Demian (the book) is all about love. It's not just about finding love in someone else but also finding love in yourself, in what you do and where you are in your life. This might be more of a personal interpretation, but to me, Eva represents a very, very specific feeling, in a way it's a culmination, a point where you finally stop to think and say to yourself "maybe I am okay. This is what okay feels like to me". Freudian influence aside... The motherly themes hit me really hard for this very reason:

When I read how Sinclair slowly fell out with his family, it spoke of a very specific experience. A very specific realization. "This deal isn't that of a bad friendship or acquaintance. I won't have a second chance. Simply because of how I was born, where I was born, there are human experiences that I'll never be able to know, and I am powerless to change that", you cannot choose your family, your mother, right? It's what you get, and you see around you what could've been but never was, and it makes you feel weak.

That's why Frau Eva is such an important figure. Because that is when Sinclair finds his family again, in a way. Why should blood matter so much? Sure, there's a biological connection, it's also been studied that romantic relationships reach their "high" during their earlier days due to hormones and neurotransmitters, right, "love at first sight", but those will eventually cease production as all does. It is your choice to nurture that relationship and to cherish it, to keep and to care for it. Blood does not matter, home is a person and it's right next to me, right now. I think that is what Frau Eva is, as a whole. And allowing that feeling to coexist with the platonic and the romantic is very important as I see it. One of the main problems of this motherly dynamic is the power difference, what makes Sinclair struggle in his childhood is the constant sensation of being watched, of being subjected to severe judgement. Frau Eva is supposed to remove that factor, she listens and she welcomes any thought or idea, there isn't fear of rejection or punishment, that's what makes it feel "like home". That was, kind of, the last step to reach the fulfillment Sinclair needed. I see Eva as the "destination" of this whole thing.

And Demian, he is the journey. One of the biggest mistakes one can make is to dismiss the process and work that goes into an achievement, because it is important. There is no Eva without Demian, they are intrinsic by nature. And journey is something that never leaves you. Even when Sinclair reaches his destination, he never stops caring about Demian. He visits Eva and he visits Demian, even if he has to walk through horrible weather, he speaks of his dreams to them, and he sits at the table and eats with them. Because during your journey you gain so many things you never expected, and at the end of the road, they become part of your fulfillment and needs as much as the main achievement is.

What Sinclair obtains from Demian and Eva, and everything in between them, is a unique relationship, deeply fulfilling, trusting, reassuring, a place where you know you can come to, even when you're at your lowest. Eva capitalizes on the genuine care, nurturing qualities, but Demian, too is a mentor, although I find falconer to be a better comparison. He helps the sparrowhawk grow its clipped wings, but in turn, he shall not stop it from flying, only the bird itself can choose to return the falconer's affections. But at the end of the day, all the falconer wishes for is to see him take flight. Sinclair obtains everything: friendship, camaraderie, acceptance, relief of a deep rooted guilt, no judgement for his human desires, the care and trust he lost from his mother, and something to look forward to after waking up in the mornings.

At the end of the book, Sinclair is separated from both of them, as I've said, they are intrinsic. But of course, they don't fully leave. As I see it, the kiss being from Eva means that your achievement is and will always be a sweet thought. Something you hold dear, that you can think of to comfort yourself. But Demian is there to deliver it and to fix Sinclair's wounds because journey is experience. It is what strengthens you and gives you the tools to face future endeavors. And it feels safe... You are finally safe within yourself.

But what about the scary factor, though? Because that is present too in both Demian and Eva (which I happen to really enjoy, as well). As always, I think it's a balance. It's good to know fear, it's a human emotion like any other. But the fear that radiates from them is more... Animal-like. The fear Sinclair once felt was a deep rooted terror that was born from something divine. You're being watched. You're being judged. You're wrong. You're a sinner. That's scary. Because it's telling you that the danger comes from yourself. When you see a beast staring into you, you don't feel self conscious, you don't feel repulsed, you feel the most natural shape that fear has. Beautiful things are scary. A snake can be scary. The stars can be scary. But it's not their fault, and it's not your fault either, it's just how it's meant to be. Because all feelings —love, anger, fear, sadness— and more, they are all important, they are all natural. But natural feelings can be beautiful. Artificial feelings make you fear something you've never witnessed, they make your stomach churn at the thought of yourself and they make you cry for something you haven't done. And most people around you live holding onto relationships that are, fundamentally, held by artificial feelings.

That is... Most of what I interpret from this book. And, god. It feels more like the book read me and not the other way around. I think I've truly found a bigger respite in art thanks to this novel. I have wanted to see the same beauty in the naturally grotesque... Learn about myself until rotting, flesh, maggots become just as beautiful and full of meaning as spring rivers and flowering plains, and for anger and fear to turn into something I can love and cherish like I do my inner child. Although they, too, have surely grown up.

That's it. I wanna play toysssss

#rambling #demian (1919)#I FUCKING LOVE THID BOOK!!!! FUCL????!!!!!!#Ramble ramble ramble again because i thought about them for a bit too long again #I hope you guys know that i have this wall of text as a constant inner monologue whenever i draw #anything demian (1919) related #including limbus fanart #(all my limbusclair fanart has references from my fucke up mind)#have a wonderful day hesse fandom

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idrellegames · 10 months

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How do you maintain love in your playerbase knowing that some of the people there are the same selfish people who are leaking or trying to leak/pirate the hard work of indie devs and writers? Ngl my project was nowhere near as big and popular as yours but something like that happened to me and I slowly lost interest in my project. I still keep up with IFs I like but can't ever seem to manifest the interest and love I used to have for my work after it happened the first time. People say things like giving up is just "letting them win" or that we should just be happy that someone out there enjoys our game and hearing "reasons" like that make me realize it's hopeless to get any respect for my work

First of all, I'm really sorry your project got leaked. It is an unfortunate side of being a creator - especially an online one. Regardless of the form, regardless of whether you're an hobbyist or a professional, art is a hot commodity. People want high quality entertainment, but they don't want to pay for it.

I've been avoiding addressing the IF leaks outside of this post because I don't think it's productive to throw any more attention on the situation. Leaks happen, they are always going to happen--if someone wants something and they can't afford it or don't want to pay for it and they want it badly enough, they will find a loophole. At the end of the day, it's a very small community of people who are pirating and shoving them into the spotlight is only going to draw more people who were maybe on the fence about downloading pirated content into doing it.

I am pretty steeled when it comes to this topic now. IF isn't the only place where I have experienced my work being leaked. I come from a theatre background and it is very easy for your original work to get produced without you even knowing about it.

A show I worked on in 2012 has its script available online as part of the library of the university where it was produced. My co-writer and I don't collect royalties from it; the intention is for it to remain free to produce for amateur and university companies. However, because of the political and sensitive nature of the script, my co-writer is very adamant about directors contacting her for permission to produce it and to follow certain guidelines before putting it on. Learning about a production in Australia months after the show closed didn't feel great. It wasn't about money, it was about ethics.

With the IF leaks specifically, I think there's a bit of a disconnect happening here between the people who want to play the games and how they view the indie creator who made them. They see paying a Patreon sub as the same as paying a big company for a product, and if they can't afford to pay it or if they don't want to, then no harm is done by pirating it.

But that's not what the relationship is.

Patreon is not paying for a product, it is supporting the creator's livelihood. I am extremely grateful for my patrons. A game the size of Wayfarer is not something that can feasibly be done in the spare moments between day jobs. But capitalism stops for no one and to make this game, I need to be able to afford rent and groceries. A living wage, as some would say.

Are leaks disheartening? Yes. But I also think that people who play pirated content were never going to sub to Patreon in the first place. And, as mentioned earlier, the number of people involved is relatively small. Thankfully, I'm not that much at risk of leaks actually affecting my income at the moment. But I would be concerned and would take a firmer stance if you Googled Wayfarer and the first search result was a pirated copy (and then I would probably follow the appropriate steps to have that result taken down from the search results).

I think the worst thing you can do as a creator is confront leakers directly. That is only going to blow back on you and put more of a spotlight on the fact that your work is getting leaked. I much would rather focus my time and energy on encouraging my community not to pirate my content than chasing down leakers and making PSAs about it.

For the folks who can't afford a Patreon sub or to anyone considering pirating my content, I would encourage you to apply to be playtesters when applications are open. If you bug test for me, then you can play the alpha content for free.

Outside of that, I take measures to protect my work as much as I can. It's not a perfect system (I don't think it's possible to make your work 100% pirating proof - if people want it badly enough, they will find a way to get it), but I know I've done as much as I can and I am content with that. I don't let it bother me. I have more important things to do with my time.

And for the people who do pirate my work - Bravo! Congratulations! It's very entertaining how petty you are.

#wayfarer #wayfarer if #answered

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silent-sanctum · 9 months

Note

Hi, I hope you're doing well! Do you think you would be willing to write Jotaro with a partner who was cheated on in a previous relationship? (Only if you're alright with it)

Hello anon! Sorry if I just got to your request but there's actually a fic I'm planning to write that includes the prompt you sent, so I hope you won't feel like I've ignored or retconed your request ^^ However I do have a very short snippet of said fic that's really long in comparison to this that I'd like to offer as consolation~ Hope you enjoy~~

word count: 1k

“The snow’s pretty, right?”

It was sudden… but it wasn’t startling. What used to be just him staring back in the clear reflection now had someone else standing by it, the pure white-covered landscape beyond making both their mirrored faces a bit indistinguishable. He didn’t have to turn his head right to acknowledge the woman currently beside him.

Jotaro had no reason to respond and so he kept silent with an open ear. “Just the way little pieces of crystals would flutter down onto the ground to create a scenery as beautiful as these snow-capped terrains.”

Why is she telling me this? Still affixed on her reflection, the lady was someone already accustomed to this place. The simple cream yukata patterned with subtle floral imagery hugging her form was enough to tell him that. Next to her, he stood out like a sore thumb in his winter coat and hat.

And still, he remained wordless.

But with the way the woman didn’t comment on it, it seemed that she didn’t mind the lack of answers. “You must think this is weird for a random stranger to walk up to you suddenly talking about the beauty of nature.” Her reflection turned to him with a smile. “But it’s something I do ever since I booked my stay here.”

So she is a guest. Jotaro found it admirable from how calm she approached him, he would’ve thought she worked here as a hostess of sorts. “Men, women, non-binary, children, or the elderly… anyone really.”

“Why?” One word too late to realize he had spoke his thought out loud. It caught him off-guard when she made a little sound of surprise. Tucked in their pockets, his hands closed in on themselves.

She still smiled nevertheless. “I just like talking to people. I like getting to know how they’ve been and what goes on around them. It’s hard to enjoy simple stuff like that from where I’m working.” He nodded. Somewhere in the middle of her words, he had shied his gaze away from the glass and onto the floor instead.

“Oh, am I making you uncomfortable?”

Yes? No? He wasn’t so sure himself. Mindless conversations irritated him to a high degree, never finding the point of starting them when nothing productive or insightful came out of it. Jotaro had been the receiving end of such multiple times before so he knew when to leave.

But for some reason, he couldn’t classify her sentences as “mindless”. He did admire the intrinsic details of the winter environment and she did too. She answered questions he had and hadn’t asked and he appreciated the clarification.

It was something different. It made him curious.

Jotaro shook his head, finding some form of comfort in the tips of his shoes. It’s fine. Keep going. The woman chuckled. “You know. it’s okay to say that you are-

“I’m not.” 2 more words fled his mouth in an instant, so abrupt that even she got startled from it.

“My bad then mister,” she said with that sense of optimism intact. “It’s just that you weren’t replying back as much as I spoke, so I tend to catch my words before I end up rambling.” His mind drew a blank, not knowing what to say in return.

Jotaro nodded again. A reliable gesture of acknowledgment.

“Honestly, I like your silence.” He looked back to the reflection beside his on the glass. “Because even if you don’t say anything, you listen regardless. I’ve been with too many people who don’t and the world becomes deafening that others outside can’t hear me speak to begin with.”

He had his attention trained to this stranger, head angled so slightly towards her as he increasingly grew intrigued by her words. I know how that feels.

The woman gaped, caught in a moment of realization. “I’m sorry! I ended up rambling my thoughts.”

Another nod.

“Well it’s not like I’m going to hold you back any longer. You’ve yet to make yourself at home after all.” He furrowed his brows, turning to glance at her direction for a second to decipher what she meant, only to put two-and-two together when she stared at his current outfit.

I haven’t been to my room yet.

“Get comfy. I may be new too but I bet you’ll enjoy your stay here.” The woman was about to make her leave and out of the curiosity of his mind, Jotaro turned to look at her for the first time throughout their interaction.

And there she was, staring up at him with her ever-present shine.

In a second, Jotaro took in all of her appearance- dark brown locks done in a loose chignon. fair skin without a blemish to touch, the natural blush in her cheeks the same color as her full lips, deep shining irises that was so captivating that he couldn’t stare for long before it became too much, and the cherry blossom pin holding her hair together.

Unreal. It was almost uncanny.

This woman couldn’t be real.

Whether the preoccupation with his inner dialogue bothered her or not, she remained undeterred by his silence. Turning on her heels, she looked at him with a beaming smile and waved. “See you around!” To that, he watched her walk away with nothing to say back.

Jotaro was left alone to his devices just as it was mere minutes ago, still in his casual winter wear on the same spot he stood on. And yet one short conversation out of the blue felt like something around him shifted in the subtlest way possible.

And it took less than 5 minutes of a stranger’s time to spark that muffled sense of wonder in his brain.

What was it that she said? About wanting to know what goes on in the lives of others? The idea bore similarities to a minor mystery case he’d likely write about, more so when the subject was of the lady with the blossom pin.

If the world permitted it, by any means, he wouldn’t mind encountering her again.

“See you around…”

#jotaro x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #jotaro kujo

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writhe · 11 months

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dude i hate long workdays so much when i leave and i feel dysregulated and so separated from any rhythm of the natural world. it was beautiful today, and now the sun is going down, and i’ve no ‘real’ interaction with people (as myself vs. ‘Working With Public’ guy) and the day starts and ends alone and without (barring Halliwell) any genuine or meaningful social exchange. usually get home and feel too uncomfortably hungry (even if i’d packed a sufficient amount of food for the day) to know when i’m full

i’ve been trying to challenge myself on what i call ‘work’ or don’t because i realized i was only calling my day job ‘work’ when i spend most of my time alone, when home, working on shop stuff or commissions or something otherwise related to money or productivity (which i guess can also include housework)

i’ve tethered myself to working (or productivity) so much that i’ve been very neglectful of any hobbies that allow me to rest. i prioritize active hobbies (ie, hiking) first because i love them but also partly because halliwell needs the engagement, partly because i start feeling terrible if i don’t spend at least a good part of the day out of the house, and partly because it’s easier to keep doing things when i’m just doing them. i have a hard time sleeping if i’m not completely exhausted

i try to force myself to ‘do nothing’ and i’ve gotten a little better at it, i can bake something for friends, i can sit or lay down and read for a while now, but most of the time i find myself in some sort of nagging doom scroll, telling myself i will close my phone and get on with heat setting or orders or finish or start a drawing or send an email etc etc etc. then i procrastinate because here is the LICK of downtime i’m allowing myself, here, on my phone. i don’t feel enriched by time spent this way, i mostly feel as if i’ve failed to start something and all the content i’ve idly glanced at somewhere in my mind half-stuck and not fully retrievable. it’s like smeared text. unflavored food. ruffage. it is unengaging yet inescapable. i’m not learning i’m just seeing everything until nothing is really novel, in a way that feels passive and dull

i want to do things that feel motivated by interest again, not money or deadlines. i don’t want to experience the world on the clock. i want to feel satisfied by curiosity and experimentation

days like this make me feel so small. i’m tired and hot and it’ll be dark and buggy by the time i get there, but i think i am going to go to the woods and i think the mosquito bites i scratch will be the only proof i’m something living in the world today. i’ve spent the last few hours on my phone unable to make a decision, i feel under and over-stimulated. i wish i had someone to chat with. i wish i could spend more time alone in ways that were enriching to me. i wish we could all experience the world in ways we were meant to

#this all just feels tied to feeling like. idk very overwhelmed for a very long time #or like. having a hard time for a really long time and then like coming back into myself and immediately overcommitting but still trying to #process a lot i guess?#situationally a lot of stuff is overwhelmed but also there is like. so much stuff internally that i realized the other night i just like #*overwhelming #haven't shared with anyone or don't know how to share with anyone and i feel like a ship in a bottle and i feel full and hollow #and so scared all the time #i have to keep moving or ill die i have to keep moving or all i die i have to keep moving or #and every small thing feels like it is actually 10000 big things at once #and like i really do not cry often or much but like. yesterday i misprinted a shirt and broke down for like 10 minutes #i don't ever feel fragile until suddenly there is a flood

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mrjoeiconis-blog · 1 year

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Some words I wrote in 2015 on the anniversary of Bloodsong of Love closing.

Theater isn't permanent. That is the special thing about it- it's there and it's gone and everyone knows that it's all temporary. A show exists on Broadway or in a backyard in Florida or in the gymnasitorium of a high school in Long Island or behind music stands at Ripley Grier and then it's gone. It's gone after a performance or after a week or after twenty years, but nothing is forever and Every Show Is Your Last Show. The people who are in the room to see any given performance are always the only people who will have been in the room to see that performance and the audience and the creators all work together to give birth to an experience that is singular and magical and happens in real time and then disappears forever.

As a writer who writes shows, the temporary nature of theater is alternately invigorating and debilitating to me. I struggle with it constantly, the fact the this thing that gives me a reason for living is also the thing that frequently makes me want to bash my head against a wall.

I find myself thinking about all this because BLOODSONG OF LOVE closed five years ago tonight, and of all the shows I've done and the things I've written and projects that never got off the ground and the musicals that didn't realize their expected commercial potential,

BLOODSONG is the one that remains constantly on my mind. Not a day goes by that I don't think about the experience of making that show with that amazing group of artists and not a day goes by that I don't wish that more people could have seen it.

My greatest theatrically-inclined dream is that the gang and I get to do a production of

BLOODSONG again one day. It played 30 performances five years ago and as miraculous as that run was and as grateful as I am for it, I still believe the thing deserves to be seen for (at least) a few more performances.

I wanted to put that sentiment out into the universe tonight and, luckily, Social Media makes it really easy to do that. I would've gone knocking door to door to tell people my hopes for BLOODSONG and my feelings on theater-in-general, but I feel like my current New Jersey neighbors wouldn't have cared. And also would've called the cops because l'm not wearing pants.

So, yes. There that is. There is no point and now it's back to work on the graphic design stuff I'm doing to make money (boo hoo whatever) and the script of the show that I'm currently in rehearsals for (theatrical circle of life, yay.) I just wanted to take a moment to light a virtual candle for that musical I made that time that you may or may not have seen. Anniversaries are good excuses to write about things.

5.9.10

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poeticpains · 6 months

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Alright. I've been chewing on the ETN movie news all day, and I think my thoughts are finally coherent enough to follow. I'll put it under a read more, mostly because it's probably going to be pretty negative and I don't wish to yuck anyone's yum.

First of all, I'll just say outright that I think including fans in the production of the movie is a bad idea. Allowing them to have cameos is, while still a little too close for comfort for me personally, one thing, but fully allowing fans to have directorial input on the season itself does not sound like it will end well in any way, shape, or form. What if they insist on a decision that Joey hates, but he does it anyways because they paid? Or what if Joey insists on a decision that they hate, and they wasted all that money?

I will be completely honest: do I want to be a part of the movie? Yes. Yes, 100%. I would love that. But that is not the question. The question is: would having me, a random 20-something with no professional film or writing experience, be involved with a movie be a good idea? And the answer to that is no.

(And I really don't want to hear about how this allows for us fans to have so-called representation. People with $350/$2,500/$3,000 just laying around do not represent me, and I'm sure that many of you feel the same way.)

Second of all, I am wary of anything that asks for funding with this little planning having gone into it. There is no cast list, no filming location, and contradictory statements on the nature of the movie itself. Is there even a script written? Is there even a story laid out? Joey has had four years to figure this out. And yeah, I know that I'm one to be talking about slow story writing, but the difference is that I'm not asking for $250,000 (at minimum!).

This is especially relevant when you consider the $3,000 donation tier and the promise of being in the movie as an extra. It says on the IGG account that it will be in the US, and yet the Twitter account says this:

I don't think I need to be the one to tell people that if you're US based and they end up filming in the UK, you're going to end up spending a lot more than $3,000 to simply get what you paid for.

This isn't me saying that I won't back it — I do plan to at one of the lower tiers, just to get the perks (I would be especially interested in the script). I'm just saying, as a friendly reminder, that it's basically akin to gambling, at this stage. Don't give them any amount of money that you're not prepared to lose entirely.

I know that a similar thing to this happened with the board game, and look how that turned out, in terms of fandom satisfaction. I don't know many people who actually enjoy that game; even I house rule a lot of it just to make playing it somewhat fun.

And finally, I really wish the Escape the Night Twitter account would get someone better suited to PR to handle their social media. It is wholly unprofessional and a terrible look for an organization that is allegedly trying to seek a place on one of the "traditional" streaming services to be getting into slapfights with people on their official account.

I realize that this post was pretty scathing, but I feel like it's deserved. I try not to be super negative on this blog, and avoid the worst of the drama, because I want my account to be a place of community. I just didn't want to ignore this.

I do have hope for the movie. I want it to happen, and I want it to be good. I want everyone to get what they paid for and be satisfied. I want to be able to get closure for Joey's story. (I want to see a 20 minute makeout scene between him and Matthew. With tongue! I'd give $350 for that!)

It seems that, at least for now, all we can do is hope.

#escape the night #etn s5 #escape the night season 5 #escape the night s5 #etn #joey graceffa

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davidfarland · 1 year

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How Burnout Made Me A Better Author

[by Michelle Pennigton]

Burnout. Few words spark such dread among writers. Avoiding it, surviving it, and recovering from it are each the focus of many articles, blogs, podcasts, books, and conference classes. Still, most of us have or will find ourselves grappling with it. This struggle resembles a hiker who has fallen off an unforeseen cliff and now clings to the sheer rockface with desperate, failing fingers, unable to pull themselves up.

I speak from experience.

While attempting to write at the very edge of my abilities and capacity in an effort to release rapidly and reach a six-figure a year income, I ran headlong into the pandemic. All at once, I found myself—an introvert—constantly around my family, needing to manage virtual school for four children, and facing an onslaught of mental health dilemmas between the six of us. My daily word count became a determined slog until just thinking about writing flooded me with resistance.

My publishing schedule and sales took a massive hit while so many of my close author friends and community connections were successfully writing and earning at dizzying rates. It was impossible not to feel like a failure.

That is the two-pronged attack of the burnout monster. It injures both your productivity and your self-esteem. The tailspin of frustration, resentment, jealousy, and dejection is not easy to break out of. So, yes! Avoid it at all costs if you can.

However, if it should happen to you, don’t despair. For me, burnout proved to be a blessing in disguise. In fact, I am emerging from it as better author, and so can you.

Burnout saved me from myself.

Like so many other authors, I rushed headlong into the swiftly flowing waters of rapid releasing without taking stock of my capabilities or the strength of the current. As a result, I enjoyed more commercial success than I had previously dreamed possible, but at the same time, I suffered personally in ways I hadn’t expected. The dangerous part was that I didn’t realize the beating I was taking as I was carried along in the rush of success. Who knows how great the toll would have been if burnout hadn’t dragged me out of the water—unwillingly—before I drowned.

Only once I’d been stranded unceremoniously on the shore while everyone else continued on without me, was I able to take stock of myself. My stress, back pain, a chaotic household, disconnection in my relationships, toxic absorption in my work, a skewed perspective on success, and depleted creative energy all became painfully apparent.

Burnout made me rest and replenish.

At first, the resistance I felt toward writing felt like the death of my career. But since pushing against it made things worse, I gave in and simply took it easy on myself. During this forced period of rest, I discovered Asian dramas—especially Korean, Chinese, and Japanese dramas. With new languages to hear, cultures to explore, and story-telling structures to follow, I was able to simply immerse myself in the experience.

I realized later that I had been expending all of my creative energy without refilling it. I had become a dry, thirsty sponge, and dramas were a fountain of living water. Here was a new source of wonder and magic that demanded nothing from me and gave until I was filled and longing to write again.

Burnout forced me to question everything.

As hope and desire to write returned, I realized how delicate my creative health was. Unwilling to put it at risk again, I had to determine what had gone wrong so I could protect myself going forward. The most basic questions brought surprising answers.

What makes me happy?

As I sorted through my cluttered soul, I pared my answer down to peace and connection.

While I had been chasing after sales for financial peace of mind, I realized that most of the things that brought me actual peace didn’t require money: time spent with my family, nature, music, spirituality, and solitude. Of course, paying the bills and being able to travel made all of those things easier, but I now saw that there was a tipping point at which my business pursuits had gone from supporting my needs to distracting me from them. I saw that the more time and effort I put into chasing success, the more it impacted my relationships and health.

These answers led to another question. What does success look like for me?

Burnout took me back to my roots.

Getting caught up in the author rat race had also stolen the joy of writing from me. And that was not something I could allow to continue. In trying to discover how that had happened, I realized that I’d severely neglected my inner artist. So, in order to reclaim that part of me, I went back to the beginning. Who was I as an artist before my business-self took over? Both roles are important, but they needed to be equally yoked together.

As I thought back to my early days as an author, I was surprised at how many important parts of my creative process I had abandoned along the way in order to write faster. My craft had improved enough that my writing was still strong—perhaps better than ever—but the process of writing was not as satisfying or fulfilling. The ideal creative process will renew your energy instead of draining it.

For me, that meant I needed to go back to creating music playlists and vision boards for my projects. I needed more scope and space for daydreaming. Being more grounded in real-life experiences and soaking in the world through my senses had to become intentional again. While I was still capable of describing a thunderstorm from my desk, standing in the rain first would provide an immersive, detail-rich experience that would benefit both me and my readers.

Burnout led me to a better way forward.

Instead of being the end of the road, burnout helped me find a better path to follow. Sure, I have battle scars that will likely impact me for a long time to come, if not forever. Instead of being able to reliably produce five to eight thousand words a day, my new reality is being thrilled with two thousand. My sales are down and my fans are either impatient or forgetting me. I must battle demons of comparison that won’t stay down no matter how many times I beat them back into their cages.

But this is only a moment in time, not my whole career. That’s the perspective that I’d lost before. I hope to have thirty years or more ahead of me, so all of my struggles are just part of the journey instead of being a dead end.

Because of my detour through burnout, I now have wisdom and experience to serve as my compass. Instead of haphazardly chasing after success fireflies, I am determined to stay on my path. I may not know the exact destination, but I trust that my new guiding principles will take me somewhere meant for me. Those are:

Joyful Writing

Work/Life Balance

Sustainable Growth

Let me be clear: Rapid-release strategies and ambitious financial goals were not the problem. Writing to market doesn’t exclude writing for love. I am not denouncing any of them. In fact, I believe in them and will still apply them throughout my career. However, I learned the hard way that an author’s capacity for workload, stress, and creative output varies by person and the circumstances they find themselves in at any given time. The problem is not with any single tool, method, or strategy. The problem comes when we are not mindful enough of our core needs. And nothing will remind you of them faster than burnout.

So, if you find yourself clinging to the side of a cliff or drowning in a raging river—or whichever of my mixed metaphors resonated with you—rest assured that while burnout may break you, it also has important lessons for you to learn. It won’t be easy. At times it will feel like a heavy, suffocating black hole. But you can emerge from it stronger, wiser, and more equipped for the journey ahead of you than you ever would have been without it.

About Michelle Pennington

Michelle Pennington is a USA Today Bestselling author of clean romance. Because she was never good at making decisions, she writes contemporary, young adult, historical, romcom, and fantasy. The genre might change but her characters will always be falling in love. When not writing, she spends her days quoting movies with her husband and making messes faster than her four kids. She used to have a lot of hobbies, but then she got addicted to k-dramas. Michelle also teaches and supports other authors as one of The Writing Gals.

Visit her website: https://www.michelle-pennington.com

Join The Writing Gals’ Facebook Group.

Watch The Writing Gals’ YouTube Channel.

#writing tips #writing tips and tricks #writeblr #writing help #writing reference #burnout #fanfic

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skz-streamer · 9 months

Text

A Lost Cause -3/3-

<-Past - Finish

Pairing: Felix (skz) x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, slight smut?

Warnings: mentions of suicide, scarred wrist, pain, car crash, PTSD, abusive/toxic boyfriend, substances, abuse, bruising, crying, um... lmk if I missed anything else❤️

Notes: Finishedddd!!!! i am really bad at endings so you gotta use a bit of your imagination at the end;) Thank you for all the love!!!!

Summary: After an abusive relationship you head to the bar for refuge...only to find yourself in another relationship, but is this one "A Lost Cause"?

-please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people

Word count ~1.5k ;)

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

Present

The aftermath of your kiss with Felix was awkward, in fact really embarrassing, the doctor had walked in on the two of you, making you and him jolt backwards. You and him both realized at the same time what actually just happened, making Felix excuse himself from the room. The doctor, not fazed at all, had simply told you your report and that you would get out the day after tomorrow.

Felix didn’t really come back after that incident, the only thing you received from him were small bouquets of flowers every day. But seeing him now made you a little flustered, and you found yourself staring right at his lips once more. The contact of Felix’s hand touching your arm snapped you out of your trance, “let me help you, ill walk you back to your apartment” he says while putting his coat over you.

“Oh, I live pretty far away from here” you lie. You didn’t want him to see the state of your apartment and think you were untidy. After a moment he thinks and tells you to come to his. He turns your body around to face your apartment complex. He points over to your building and says “I live there, it’s really close”. You point to the same building “There?” you say questioningly. “Yup!” he says. Felix lived in the same complex as you? What a turn of events.

—-

You couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as you entered Felix's bathroom. The shelves filled with skincare products and neatly organized bottles gave you a glimpse into his meticulous nature. As you closed the door, you let out a soft sigh, trying to calm your racing heart.

You took off your coat, still feeling the warmth from Felix's touch, and carefully hung it on the back of the door. Your mind wandered back to that unexpected kiss, and you couldn't deny that a part of you hoped it wasn't entirely accidental. You shook your head, trying to focus on the present moment.

Unfolding the plain white shirt he gave you, you noticed how soft and comfortable the fabric felt between your fingers. It smelled faintly of his cologne, which sent a delightful shiver down your spine. Taking a moment to collect yourself, you began to change out of your hospital gown.

Meanwhile, Felix had returned to the living room and sat on the sofa, fidgeting with his fingers. He couldn't believe how foolish he had been earlier, kissing you without any warning, and then inviting you back to his apartment. He was scared he had made you uncomfortable, but the sight of you in his shirt made his heart skip a beat. He had always admired your beauty and grace, but now, with the shirt hugging your form, it was like seeing you in a new light.

Minutes passed, and you finally emerged from the bathroom, wearing Felix's shirt and your own pants. Your hair was slightly damp from a quick wash, and you felt refreshed after the hospital stay. Felix's eyes widened a little at the sight of you, and he offered a shy smile, trying to hide the evident blush on his cheeks.

"You look great," he said softly, his voice gentle and sincere.

"Thank you," you replied, feeling your cheeks heat up at his compliment. "Your shirt is really comfortable."

"I'm glad you like it," he replied, gesturing for you to sit beside him on the sofa. "Can I get you anything? Water, maybe?"

"Water sounds perfect," you said, feeling grateful for his hospitality.

Felix returned with two glasses of water, and you both sat together, engaged in light conversation. The initial awkwardness from the hospital incident seemed to have faded away, replaced by a more relaxed and comfortable atmosphere.

As you talked, you discovered shared interests and found yourselves laughing at each other's jokes. It felt so easy being with Felix, and you wondered why you hadn't taken the time to get to know him better before. But perhaps this unusual twist of fate was meant to bring you two closer.

The evening turned into night, and you realized the time had flown by. "I should probably head back to my place now," you said reluctantly.

Felix nodded, understanding but not wanting the evening to end either. "I'll walk you to your apartment," he offered.

As you both stepped out of his apartment and headed down the hall, you felt a mixture of gratitude and anticipation. Felix ended up realizing that you literally only lived two doors down from him. Making you and him burst out in laughter at the coincidence.

—-

The laughter eased any lingering tension, and you found yourself feeling more at ease with Felix than ever before. As you reached your apartment door, you turned to him with a smile, "Thanks for the lovely evening and for walking me home. It was really nice getting to know you better, Felix."

"The pleasure was all mine," he replied, returning your smile. "I'm glad we had this chance to spend time together."

You hesitated for a moment before speaking, "Felix, about what happened at the hospital… I hope you know I didn't mind the kiss. It was just… unexpected."

He blushed slightly, looking down for a moment before meeting your gaze again. "I'm really sorry about that. I didn't mean to be so impulsive. It's just that being around you… it's hard to control my feelings."

You appreciated his honesty and reached out to touch his arm gently. "It's okay, Felix. I understand. It was just a surprise, that's all. But, um, I actually didn't mind it either."

His eyes widened in surprise, and a hopeful smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You didn't?"

"No," you said softly, feeling a little bolder. "In fact, I kind of liked it."

Felix's smile grew wider, and he took a small step closer to you. "Well, then, maybe I can be a bit more intentional about my actions from now on," he said playfully.

You chuckled, feeling a flutter in your heart. "That might be a good idea."

The two of you stood there for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions. Finally, Felix spoke up, "Would you like to go out with me sometime, like on a proper date?"

You looked into his earnest eyes and felt a surge of excitement. "I'd love to."

Felix beamed, and you exchanged contact information so you could plan your first date. As you unlocked your apartment door, you turned to him with a smile, "See you soon."

"Definitely," he replied, and with a quick wave, he headed back to his own apartment.

Inside your apartment, you couldn't help but feel a rush of happiness. The events of the day had taken unexpected turns, but you were grateful for them. You changed into your pajamas, settling into your cozy bed. As you laid there, thoughts of Felix filled your mind.

Over the next few days, Felix continued to bring you small bouquets of flowers, and you found yourself eagerly looking forward to his daily surprises. Your text conversations became more frequent, filled with playful banter and meaningful conversations.

—

Finally, the day of your post-surgery checkup arrived. As you stepped out of the office doors, Felix was there, waiting with a smile. "Congratulations on getting out of there!" he said, offering you a bouquet of flowers.

"Thank you," you replied, accepting the flowers with a smile of your own. "And thank you for being there for me throughout this whole time."

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," he said sincerely. "So, about that date… how about we go out tonight? I know this little Italian place that serves amazing pasta."

You chuckled, charmed by his enthusiasm. "Sounds perfect. I'll see you there."

That evening, you arrived at the restaurant, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves. But as soon as you saw Felix's smiling face, all your worries melted away. The date was filled with laughter, heartfelt conversations, and shared dreams for the future.

As the night came to an end, Felix walked you back to your apartment. It felt like time was moving too fast, but you didn't want the evening to end. As you reached your door, you turned to him, feeling a little reluctant to say goodbye.

"I had a wonderful time tonight, Felix," you said sincerely.

"Me too," he replied, taking your hand in his.

Before you could say anything else, Felix leaned in and kissed you softly, this time with intention and tenderness. Your heart skipped a beat, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His lips are hot, and soft, you find yourself nibbling and gasping, pulling onto each other for more and when you stop, he has his eyes closed, heavily exhaling, hair ruffled, and he looks like the prettiest mess ever.

As you finally parted, Felix rested his forehead against yours. "I'm really glad I kissed you that day," he whispered.

"Me too," you murmured, feeling the beginning of something beautiful and exciting. Maybe, just maybe Felix wasnt a lost cause.

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adventuresinanarchy · 10 months

Text

unordinary trio headcanons !!

some of these r kind of a stretch! also there's so much isen im so sorry im in love with him

isen

i hc isen to be bi with no preference

i also am in between on him being amab or afab. i see him using they/he either way tho

he's a demiboy

he's vv closeted

but remi knows

he has a (younger) twin sister and another younger (half) sister

he's found himself being in charge a lot & messing up at home, which is why he's so against taking big responsibilities (like when he becomes jack)

they have severe anxiety

and also undiagnosed adhd

he's good at keeping secrets but if anyone were to simply ask them about one he'd be like really bad at deflecting it

he had a really good relationship with his father until it was noticed that younger half sister was a product of an affair so then his parents got divorced and isen lost contact

his stepdad is nice but isen doesn't find themselves to be as close to him as their siblings are and it makes him a lil upset

he's still really family oriented even though he kind of resents his mom for the whole affair

they work a job as a janitor at night so his siblings can have some spare money

his mom is chronically ill

oh oh and his twin sister goes to a school outside of wellston because she's rlly smart

isen's not vv open about his family, he'll only mention them if remi says something about rei first or if blyke talks about his mom

i love blysen sm but i do think isen would've had a crush on remi before

he's dated a lot of people

including cecile for a week

cecile broke it off

as you can see none of the relationships really lasted

speaking of how i love blysen – he's had a crush on blyke for a really long time but hasn't realized it's a crush

isen & his twin went on this hair dye adventure once hence the hair

i saw someone say he tried to bleach his hair and it came out orange and i firmly agree

naturally black hair i will die on this hill

while isen had a hair oopsie, their sister was successful and has blonde highlights

(i do have names for his siblings but they're not very creative (twin is isabella & half-sister is irene))

secretly a swiftie

blyke

ok enough isen now blyke

i like the idea of bigender or genderfluid blyke

any pronouns but they do get a bit irritated when people stick to just he/him

pansexual

he has sooo many piercings like so so so many

they're the middle child

she spends a lot of time with her uncle

they have a cat and shes the cutest cat ever (i need a name)

i think blemi is really cute tbh (not a headcanon im just rambling atp)

i feel like blyke would listen to weezer

she looooves funky earrings and other cool jewelry

has a bunch of scars from childhood adventures and is insecure about them

allergic to grass

had a black stripe in his hair during middle school to be cool and edgy

had a diary of a wimpy kid phase

and a dork diaries one

im running out here

remi

remi my fav girlboss <3

omni w/ a preference for girls

she/they, demigirl

her dream toy growing up was a barbie motorcycle

she and rei made a lemonade stand in order to raise money for a barbie motorcycle

rei thought they were getting an actual. barbie themed motorcycle

they made their own lemonade and it tasted like shit

they made a whole eight dollars

remi really wants a pet snake but their mom is scared of snakes

she thinks eyeliner is really cool but she's really bad at it

sometimes she'll ask sera to do her makeup for her

remi's dad is a chef who loves the movie ratatouille /hj

rei calls her a rat

her bedroom at home has a shaggy carpet because i said so

and she has soo many posters on her walls

once she dyed the ends of her hair purple with kool-aid

she has lots n lots of freckles

she had a crush on elaine during her first year & that was her first girl crush

sometimes she goes on random smoothie bowl crazes

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zalrb · 10 months

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What are the worst casted (cast) shows do you think in terms of chemistry in terms of like nothing about these shows work?

I am a fan of your blog so I know a few like Riverdale, Shadowhunters (expect for Jace and Alec), The Flash, The Originals. Are there any others?

And then what are some of the best casted (cast) shows in terms of chemistry, in terms of this just works.

Also, why do you think that casting directors get chemistry so wrong? Like Shonda Rhimes is known for working with the same crew on all of her productions and they did Scandal and HTGAWM where the cast just worked well together and the chemistry between all was so well done but now she’s doing Bridgerton where the chemistry is just not there even though she works with the same crew who cast Scandal. So, why do you think that casting directors (not just Shonda) are getting chemistry so wrong?

I read through your “Actors, Directors…chemistry between characters” and they say that it’s something you can’t fake, and it’s there if it’s there. But then why do they get it wrong sometimes? Why cast actors with no chemistry if you can feel it, or you can not feel it?

Hmm, it's a lot easier to talk about shows where it all just works, like The Bear is a cast where the chemistry is excellent

because they all riff off each other incredibly well, hitting all the points, there's a fluidity to that cast that is necessary for everything that they do with each other. For Carmy to call Richie 'cousin' even though they're not related, JAW and Ebon have to have the chemistry to pull off that kind of closeness, to be like family, where you don't feel any hesitation or distance or coldness, they just have to go there

For Syd to go through the various emotions that she does with Marcus depending on the stress level of the kitchen plus that flirty awkwardness, Ayo and Lionel need to have chemistry.

In fact, 2x06, which I consider to be the best episode of the series so far was really interesting because there were moments in the episode that didn't flow as well as other episodes because of all of the guest stars and they didn't have the same kind of fluidity and familiarity that the core cast had, which worked for the episode considering the themes of the episode but I was like, yeah it's a bit more jarring to watch the interactions because they don't have the same kind of chemistry.

Succession is another one where it just works in a way you don't think it does because it's a naturally awkward show but I mean, these are siblings

so i liked when sarah snook said they kept doing the scene over and over and then kieran asked her if he could slap her for real during one take and she said ok and so he did and then something in her reacted the way you would to a sibling and she just went after him. she was like you can see it in my eyes i just turned

and they just started wrestling the way siblings would and that’s the take they used and it makes sense because that scene is really organic.

That 70s Show, when I did the rewatch a few months ago, I re-realized that they had lightning in a bottle with that cast and there was such a commitment that I don't see in shows now

like if you want to talk about a show that really goes for it, T70s isn’t brought up nearly enough, they committed to the physicality of a scene

like in general

and I'm talking a lot about commitment and trusting your scene partner, which is definitely a part but it's not just that. Like in TGP, Kristen Bell commits to Eleanor's love for Chidi, there's a particular scene where she's insisting that they wake him up, and she's explaining why they need Chidi and you hear how much she loves him in her voice and see it in her expressions

I believe Eleanor in that moment because Kristen is committed to the scene but together they don't have romantic chemistry, it just doesn't work in that framing

I talk about the cast chemistry in Breaking Bad

Elite was a quasi-fascinating viewing experience because in season 1, everyone was paired with the people they had chemistry with that it made me forgive a lot, like, a lot of plot and narrative holes

and then from season 2 onward, they started mixing the actors up and it didn't gel as well and I was like, you messed with a good thing.

Gossip Girl was also a cast with chemistry

In terms of shows that don't...I usually block the shows out, lmao.

I can't really expand on this because I only saw half an episode, initium had Supergirl on at her place once and I had such a violent reaction to it that she changed the channel and she never changes the channel when I don't like something, she makes me stew in it (that's how I ended up watching Riverdale and Shadowhunters in the first place) but it was just ... bad, like, stilted and dry and flat, I just remember being like

It's weird to talk about Mindhunter in terms of cast because it's about two FBI agents but I remember, I couldn't get into it, couldn't get into the plot because it was centered around these two agents and they were so stiff and flat with each other and I expected a chemistry like season 1 of True Detective, Woody Harrelson and Matthew Mcconaughey worked well together, they vibed, and immersed me in their relationship, which was tense, and their case.

Regarding why and/or how casting directors/EPs etc. miss chemistry with certain casts or leads, I'm not really sure how that happens, I couldn't guess, haha.

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manny-at-the-disco · 4 months

Text

Consider a Depressed Cat

A few days ago I found myself in a smoke shop buying weed from the guy behind the counter. I was shocked by how much cheaper you can get the goods in a prohibition state than back home. The shopkeeper brought his cat to work, and I fell in love. He leapt into my arms and as I cradled him like a newborn, he shoved his little white head into the crook of my elbow.

"Smitty has leukemia," the guy told me. "He's doing fine now, but he's gonna start getting sick on and off. Eventually, it's gonna get bad enough that we have to put him to sleep. He's still got a couple good years left in him though."

Smitty didn't react. He just closed his eyes and pushed himself closer to my chest. I wondered then if he realized that his days were numbered. That his own body was working overtime to kill itself and there was nothing more to be done. In his book When Breath Becomes Air, author Paul Kalanithi describes ignoring the early signs of terminal lung cancer for fear of acknowledging his own mortality. Maybe that's just an affliction we thinking mammals suffer from. After all, Smitty seemed pretty comfortable with things as they were. Maybe he didn't even realize he was sick at that moment. Maybe he remembered some grave illness from a few months ago that -- by the grace of all the feline gods -- passed him by. A silence hung in the air between his human companions though. Neither of us could voice it but we were both thinking about how our time with that beautiful, loving creature was limited.

The Buddhists would argue that's the root of the entire problem. We put so much emphasis on what could be that we never appreciate what is. Why am I letting myself get depressed over the eventual death of this cat I didn't even know existed ten minutes ago? I doubt I'd be thinking this way if the cat wasn't sick with cancer. For some reason, we regard deaths from natural illness to be "untimely." Paul Kalanithi describes his own anger at not being allowed by fate to fulfill his potential as a gifted surgeon. This is a particular curse of capitalist society, as a life is only deemed to have value if it is capable of productivity. We do not similarly bemoan the death of an elderly man in a vehicle accident as a loss of potential.

I don't know if Smitty is aware of his own mortality. I don't know if he ever feels helpless in the face of his situation. Barbara Natterson-Horowitz and Kathryn Bowers documented cases of suicidal depression in a number of mammal species, so such a case would not be out of the ordinary. I personally know a number of domestic pets who are on the same SSRI regimen as me. But Smitty, faced with a painful and prolonged death, shows no signs of this.

For almost a whole week I have been trying to understand Smitty's psyche. I don't know if I ever really will, but it's clear to me that he's onto something big. All I know for sure is I'm going to keep going back to see him for as long as I can.

#existentialism #cat #essay #i started writing this and it just snowballed #don't take this or my thoughts too seriously

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raointean · 2 years

Text

Fred lives (AU from Umbridge onward)

During Order of the Phoenix, Umbridge restrains herself to blood quills for the underage student population. For the adult students (age 17 and upwards) however, she uses the cruciatus curse, her logic being that they are adults and should be able to conduct themselves properly by now.

Fred and George are natural troublemakers and, as such, get a fair amount of detention towards the beginning of the year. They try to get it together to avoid being tortured, but Umbridge has already decided that she hates them and will use any reason to put them in detention, separately.

Now, the cruciatus curse can have many different long-term-effects and affects each person differently. Physically, it can cause numbness, pain, and/or shaking in the extremities and deterioration of fine motor skills. Mentally, it can cause hallucinations, short-term memory loss, long-term memory loss, and, in extreme cases, a chronic vegetative state.

By February, both twins are beginning to experience some of these permanent after-effects. Fred develops a tremor in his hands and is generally in some sort of pain due to the nerve damage. George begins to have trouble with his short-term memory, but he just chalks it up to stress from Umbridge and the upcoming NEWTS.

Usually during detention, Umbridge will cast the cruciatus curse for ~2-3 minutes and then let the student rest a little. (I don’t want to KILL them! What kind of monster do you take me for?) In May, she has a detention with George (for talking in class).

She casts the curse but George accidentally hits his head on the corner of her desk. Later in the detention, she gets so involved in grading that she forgets to remove the curse for a whopping ten minutes (and no, she doesn’t even pretend to apologize). George staggers back to the common room afterwards and collapses in bed.

From that day forward, his memory is notably much worse. Where previously it was things like “When was that assignment due?” and “Did I eat breakfast this morning?”, it’s become more like “Which house am I in?”, “Where am I going and what am I doing?”, and “What’s that one sibling’s name again?”.

George is afraid that his memory will only get worse if he has another detention and he talks to Fred about dropping out and leaving the school. Fred understands where he’s coming from, but wants to stay since they’re almost done with the year anyway. George doesn’t want to leave without Fred so he stays as well until one morning, he wakes up and can’t remember a thing about anything.

Fred wakes him up and George asks him who he is. This, naturally, freaks Fred out. He decides to wait a day and see if it clears up so they skip class. The next day it does, in fact, clear up, but both twins are now aware of the damage the curse can do and they start planning their great escape immediately.

They leave and start Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and quickly discover some... difficulties. Fred’s hands shake so much, he can’t make most of the potions properly and George keeps forgetting what the names of their products are and how much they cost.

They reshuffle tasks. George takes charge of all of the potion work and Fred heads up the sales. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes flourishes until they close down for the war.

Fast-forward to the Battle of Hogwarts and Fred is injured and is rushed to St. Mungo's (JK Rowling who?). The entire Weasley family (plus Harry, Hermione and Fleur) congregate at The Burrow because none of them really want to be alone.

One morning, two days after the battle, George comes down for breakfast looking slightly confused. He looks around the table and asks Molly where Fred is. Molly answers that he's still at St. Mungo's, assuming that George was still half-asleep and that's why he was confused. George realizes that he must have forgotten something important and asks why Fred is in the hospital.

Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione all simultaneously remember George's memory problems. Ron steps in and tells him about the Battle of Hogwarts and that Fred was injured but he should be fine.

Molly is now very very confused so George explains what happened; he struggles with short term memory loss due to prolonged exposure to the cruciatus curse and a head injury.

Everyone is shocked and horrified. Molly and Arthur ask why he never said anything earlier, but George doesn’t remember. He assumes that he and Fred had their reasons though.

Eventually, Fred is released from St. Mungo’s and he and George go back to work. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes is thriving more than ever before and soon enough, they open a pharmacy/adaptive equipment store called Weasley’s Apothecary adjacent to the joke shop.

They sell all the regular pharmacy potions; pepper-up, cure-for-boils, skele-gro, essance of dittany, murtlap essence, and so on. They also sell rarer potions like wolfsbane. One of Weasley’s Apothecary’s main attractions is their line of PTSD related potions; dreamless sleep, calming draught, and draught of relaxment.

Another thing that sets them apart is their sale of adaptive equipment. They sell magical earplugs that filter only what the user wants to here. They sell magical prosthetics with all sorts of attachable doodads (all compatible with WWW products). There are gloves, arm braces, and leg braces to help stabilize weak or shaky limbs (Fred swears by these). They also invented a watch that remembers everything you tell it (schedules, recipes, task lists, price lists, etc.) and will repeat it back to you (George never leaves home without his).

#harry potter au #fred lives au #fred weasley #george weasley #dolores umbridge #molly weasley #arthur weasley #cruciatus curse #disability #ptsd #short term memory loss #nerve damage #chronic pain #head injury #weasley twins #Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes #adaptive equipment

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