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#this is agonizing idk what to do abt it

teruthecreator · 4 months

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ughhhhh

i dont feel comfortable expressing my emotions anywhere else rn so welcome to the depression hole. anyways i just feel so fucking miserable i feel like this job is fucking killing me like every day it gets harder and harder and harder to just get up in the morning and im so much more tired than usual, probably bc anytime i Do sleep im plagued with restlessness and cant keep myself down. and i just feel like im at the end of my rope like i cant keep pretending like im fine and go to work where my labor is exploited and im constantly made to feel like im lazy or stupid just bc i sit when theres nothing to do. and like my mom contacted one of my aunts friends to see if she knows of any open positions bc everything ive looked into is just a dead end. the only jobs that reach out are scams trying to get my credit score i havent had a legit offer for an interview in weeks. and its basically february which means my birthday is in a month and i dont wanna be stuck here on my birthday like. idk man. i wanna die a lot i dont wanna be here anymore and nothing can fix it.

#in neg city #not to mention my motivation is shot like i havent touched tfs in like two weeks bc the thought of putting words to paper rn is like.#agonizing. which sucks bc i was So Excited abt the chaps im gonna be writing but now its like. nothing. theres nothing #so pretty soon im gonna run out of chapters and let wveryone down and itll be another disappointment in my life #and i just. i know i shouldnt care but writing is my only hobby i still try to make myself do and it sucks when im not doing it #idk i wanna kill myself rlly bad rn. and it would be so easy to do it i literally have an excess of medication at home #and idk what else i even have to look forward to. theres nothing.#SIGH whatever. time to sit at reception and suffer for the next hour

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septimusmoonlight · 3 months

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Anonymous: Idk if you've ever written anything abt this but I love the idea of some small foreign entity crawling inside my womb while I'm asleep and like. Fusing I guess? And just constantly fertilizing me to the point I'm always pumping out its kids. Makes me go straight to Niagara falls lol

I'm sure I have some permapreg like it somewhere around here, but it's always something I'm willing to explore <3

It's just an ordinary night for you, so you manage to get to sleep eventually. That's when your uninvited guest comes out to play. Maybe it was under your bed, or just outside your window, or somewhere else in your room that you don't check often enough. Whatever it is, the thing slinks out from its hiding spot on too many limbs and seeks out your available hole. It knows it has a good project on its hands - you can be turned into a good tool for it, something to pump out not-quite-humans infected with its genes.

Its body secretes sedatives that keep you fast asleep as it opens up your cunt with its tapered body, pulling itself deeper and deeper inside of you until it presses right up against your cervix. With a little extra force, it pops inside, sliding perfectly into place as it latches to the top of your womb. It quickly dissolves a portion of the inner lining so that its body can fuse to yours, and it even incorporates some of your DNA into itself so that your immune system doesn't recognize it as a threat. Within minutes, its skin and your womb flow into each other seamlessly, and it can begin its work.

It takes a little while to get your body up to speed on what the new plan is. The first round of hormones it secretes is meant to prepare its environment for its young in particular - they may be similar to humans in various superficial ways, but they are most certainly not the standard young a human should be bearing, and certainly at a rate far too fast for any human. Then, once your internal workings have been altered to its tastes, it starts releasing its seed into your womb - in fact, with bifurcated genitalia, it can simply insert a long probe directly into your fallopian tubes and bombard your unprotected ovaries with its sperm cells, fertilizing engorged eggs much faster than should be possible. In fact, new eggs are forming just for its purposes, which is normally an incredibly rare event - but, then again, this thing isn't producing humans, so human biology is mostly irrelevant.

The first cells start dividing late in the night while you're still peacefully sleeping, entirely unaware of how you've been changed. Permanently. Forever.

In the morning, you become acutely aware of the new developments when the first hints of labor pull you harshly into the waking world. You gasp and moan, clutching at your rounded, swollen belly. You're so large that you can't even adjust your position properly, and you're left to wonder, terrified, what must have happened last night for you to end up like this. You're not allowed to think much further about it, however, because the pain of a child pressing against your dilated cervix is a distraction from everything else, and you have to follow through on the urge to push before anything else can be done.

Labor is fast, in comparison to how long an active labor normally is, and it's agonizing as a result. Your body isn't used to being stretched open and pulled apart like this, much less from the inside out, so thoroughly claimed by something you can't identify - and yet, despite the pain, pleasure still washes over you, and you can't help but cum multiple times, delaying the birth as you clench hard around the inhuman child still sliding through your birth canal. Your cervix and cunt are stretched wide, wide open, torturous and euphoric at the same time, and you're tempted to linger at the crowning stage just to bask in the horrible, searing burn that comes from something just too big. Your body screams at you to bear down, though, so you do, your legs shaking as you cum again at the sensation of a newborn slipping wetly out of your newly-sloppy cunt.

As you lay back, fighting for breath, you can feel more weight gathering in your lower belly. Placing a hand on your midsection greets you with the sensation of your skin pulling tight under your fingers, an alien mass pushing out from within, filling up your womb with something you didn't ask for - and yet something that makes your skin burn with arousal, makes your eyes roll back in your head and your tongue loll out of your mouth when your cervix hugs another small body on its way out of you. The process seems to be speeding up - even as you're giving birth, another body stretches your insides.

These are just the growing pains as the organism that's taken you over makes sure its systems are in place properly. It's making sure that you can push out as many children as it commands, making sure that you're hyperfertile and loving it, making sure that the elevated pain response you're experiencing is simultaneously translated to pleasure so that it hurts and makes you cum at the same time. So far, everything is going well - but it wants to keep up the test run for a little while, pump out enough children to make up for its time outside of a human womb, when it couldn't produce young.

You're trapped in bed all day, screaming and sobbing through orgasm after orgasm as babies open you wide, an endless chain of children you can't identify, not at all human and yet with the appearances of oversized newborns. The way they can crawl immediately after birth - and climb up the walls, no less - tells you that you're not dealing with a weird human pregnancy; this is something entirely out of your wheelhouse, but you're finding it harder and harder to care as your brain learns more and more to enjoy your new position as a permanent baby factory, a sloppy hole for babies to come out of, an incubator. You're forgetting everything else you had planned for today, for next week, for the upcoming month, the rest of the year. Pleasure and pain, and this implacable urge to give birth over and over again, are quickly wiping out the desire to do anything else.

By the end of the day, things have slowed back down, but you're still giving birth at least once an hour. In between, you're rubbing your cunt, easily sliding a fist into your sloppy hole to keep yourself open for the next child that needs to come out of you. You're all too happy to stay like this, but when there's an extended pause, you take the opportunity to fall back asleep, exhausted without realizing it.

Then, you wake up, and your midsection is larger than it was yesterday morning. The morning sun says hello through your drawn blinds as you wail, squeezing out a batch of easily five or six newborns, apparently left gestating inside of you all night while the thing that took you over let you get some rest. It seems to have a good picture of the human limit, but you have no clue of any of this; all you know is that something happened to you, and it's the best time you've ever had in your life.

#Originally posted May 23 2023 #asks #anonymous #my writing #nsft text #patreon.com/septimusmoonlight #constant preg #body invasion #body modification #constant birth #forced impreg #forced birth #birth #preg #impreg #somno

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hermesgoestojuvie · 5 months

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remember this one perpollo fic that was just so good. it was a oneshot i think, and i forget the name and i'm going through my bookmarks but i can't seem to find it. (i'll link it if i do! or if anyone remembers the name-)

but i remember it was like, this intense world-building where there literally was a war between the demigods and gods. like they were full on killing the gods and eating(?) i think, their hearts and consuming their essence. and yet some of the gods were, while def at war with the demigods, still careful and caring for their kids, or at least the implication was there, with poseidon not going after percy, and apollo unleashing a plague on the demigds, but tailored so that it would not affect his kids.

and i love that fic, and i LOVE perpollo, but rn im in a very permes mood, so im kinda thinking abt a permes take.

espcially as i just finished reading Lore by Alexandra Bracken, in which descendants of heroes (like the house of odysseus, the house of heracles, the house of theseues, the house of Iason, etc.) have a three day hunger-games like thing called the Agon, where seven (i think it was seven) gods (as a punishment from zeus for trying to overthrow him) get turned mortal and can actually be killed, with the promise that whichever hero kills them, gets to become the new god. of course, to keep it fair, this "new god" can also be killed in the next agon by another hero and have their power taken. i think i remember these gods as poseidon, hermes, dionysus, the twins, athena, and ares. also aphrodite, so maybe it was eight.

(this was tragic for me bc i was attached to WAY TOO MANY (like 4?) of the gods before i even started the book considering my love for pjo lol, and i didnt want to see them go)

but now im just thinking of it, a war, demigods v gods, maybe after the giant war? idk. and its such a complex position for percy bc he hates the gods! he does! but he cares about his father. he cares for hermes. and yet he also cares abt his fellow demogods, his friends, his family. he is loyal to his core, but he is also just very tired.

and then, what do the others think regarding percy anyways? the gods will see him as a weapon no longer in their hands. the demigods see their friend yes, but also the kid who DOES care about his dad and is loyal--the guy who was close to ascending on his own right down there in tartarus before he somehow stopped himself.

like. its so interesting and i do want to do smth with that, but i also have like. three other permes ideas, one of which already has a 13 page incomplete outline written out, and that has actually stumped me on how to continue it for like, the past year and a half, so. who knows if i'll even manage to commit. but im def toying with this, its been on my mind for the past few weeks.

EDIT: found the fic! its here

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #apollo #hermes #perpollo #permes #apollo pjo #hermes pjo #lore #alexandra bracken #Hermes x Percy Jackson #Apollo x Percy Jackson #poseidon #lore Alexandra Bracken #percy x hermes #percy x apollo

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transmascissues · 9 months

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hey, sorry idk if its ok for me to ask for advice here, but im really lost and dont know where else to go.

i might be starting testosterone really soon, (via informed consent) but i keep flipping back and forth on whether or not i'm sure i want it. some days i think, "yes 100% im a man i want T right now" and thinking abt the effects of T makes me euphoric. other days i think, "wait AM i sure tho? what if it turns out i hate it actually" and thinking abt the effects of T on those days makes me anxious and ambivalent.

i think it might be just a fear of change, but i'm not sure, and i'm worried about making a decision i'll regret forever. it doesnt help i keep seeing ppl say things like "you need to be 100% sure you want hrt before u start because going back and forth puts a huge strain on the body" etc, but i dont know if i ever will be 100% sure.

what do you make of this? do i really need to be 100% sure? am i rushing in too fast? or is this just anxiety talking?

i spent years agonizing over if i was really sure that i wanted to start t, and you know what it taught me?

no one is ever 100% sure about anything. it’s an impossible task. that’s just not how people work — you’re always going to find more things to be anxious or unsure about when you think about it because it’s an unknown thing and it’s completely natural to be at least a little unsure of unknown things.

and most of the time, nobody expects you to be 100% sure about big decisions because we all know it’s an unfair expectation. nobody told me i couldn’t go to college because i wasn’t 100% sure where i wanted to go. nobody tells you to never drive anywhere because you’re not 100% sure that the car won’t crash. accepting risk is a part of life. trusting ourselves to make the best decisions we can — and trusting ourselves to be able to handle whatever happens next — is an unavoidable part of life.

the only reason we’re held to that impossible standard of 100% certainty when it comes to medically transitioning is because people are transphobic and they want us to second guess ourselves and put off hormones or surgery out of fear. if everyone waited until they were 100% sure, no one would ever transition, and that’s exactly what they want.

i look at it like this: hormones are like any other medication. you take them because you decide they have a good shot at making your life better even though there’s also a chance they might be ineffective, have bad side effects, or even make things worse in the end. we accept that risk every time we take a medication because we weigh the options and decide the good that could come of them is worth that risk. imagine if doctors only offered medical care to people when they were 100% sure it would work and not have any side effects — they would never do anything at all!

i can’t tell you if hrt is right for you. i can’t tell you if the risk is worth it for you. what i can tell you is that, when i was unsure about what to do, there were two things that made me decide it was worth the risk:

the first is that i knew i wanted to give myself a chance. the idea of going on hormones only to get more dysphoria from it sounded terrifying, but the reality was that i was already living with dysphoria! and the idea of just accepting that because i was afraid to try the thing that could make it better was even more terrifying. at the end of the day, i decided it was better to choose the option that could make things better than it was to just spend the rest of my life wondering if it would’ve helped. the worst case scenario in both choices is dysphoria, so i figured, why not pick the option where the best case scenario is euphoria? i know dysphoria is something i can live with because i’ve been doing it for years, so i felt that i could trust myself to be able to deal with that outcome if it came. i knew it was possible that i would regret it and wish i had never started t, but i also knew i would regret it even more if i went my whole life never having given myself a chance at something better than the dysphoria i already live with. i figured, if i have to take a risk, why not take the one that excites me instead of the one i would just be taking out of fear?

the second is that hormones are fucking slow. there can be some changes that happen fast but for the most part, the changes on t take time to happen fully, and if i wanted even more time i knew i could take a lower dose to slow things down further. it’s not like you just wake up one day with a totally different body — it’s a process, and if at any point in that process you realize you don’t like what’s happening, you can stop! you’re completely in control; the second it starts to feel like it’s making something worse instead of better, you can decide to stop taking it. even with the changes that came quickest for me, i had time to assess as they started happening, and it would’ve been as simple as putting down the syringe and never using it again if i decided i didn’t want those changes to continue.

(and the people who say you can’t start and stop because of the strain on your body are exaggerating — i had to start and stop multiple times because i was having allergic reactions to all of the serums we tried, and i was totally fine. that was never even a concern my nurse brought up to me. i’m sure it’s not ideal to do that constantly, but i don’t think it’s a big thing you have to worry about.)

again, i can’t tell you if starting t is the right move for you. all of this is just how i made that decision for myself; i can’t make yours for you. what i can tell you is that you are more than capable of making a thoughtful and informed decision without being 100% sure. certainty is not a requirement.

and frankly, anyone who tells you they were 100% sure when they made that decision is either lying about it because they feel like they should’ve been totally certain, or they were in a position to make the decision so quickly that it didn’t leave time to mull things over and find things to be unsure of.

which leads me to my final point: if you’re thinking about it this hard and trying to be this meticulous about making the right decision, you’re absolutely not rushing into it. whatever decision you make, you’ve clearly put a lot of thought into it and that’s all anyone can ask of you.

this is your decision, not anyone else’s, and already you have everything you need to make the best decision you possibly can. trust yourself to choose wisely, and trust yourself to be able to handle whatever your choice brings. you got this.

#this ended up much longer than i intended but i have a lot to say about it bc i was in the same place a couple years ago #ask answered #trans men #transmascs #hrt #testosterone

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soleilnomoon · 2 years

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My friend, I heard it's the cool thing to leave things in your inbox and I want to be like the cool kids so here I am. How about a scenario with Kurosaki Ichigo trying to convince S/O to ask HIM out instead of him just doing the asking out himself? It can be whatever you want it to be: comedy, romance, fluff, smut. The choice is yours *finger guns*

sora... love of my life, light in my eyes, wind beneath my wings, etc. etc. etc. u have been so patient, and i'd apologize but u already know what kind of drama this fic put me thru!!! anyway!!! this was a labor of love (as always) yk i only ever want the best for u bbgorl 🥰️🥰️🥰️

5.9k words (DONT LOOK AT ME OMG), fem reader, nsfw, 18+, mdni; there's fluff i promise (who am i), angst bc why not, mutual pining, and smut; ichigo... is a dumbass, and i like seeing him suffer; i also like seeing reader suffer; a wild orihime appears! and some other miscreants. feat. cute things like: hair pulling, slight exhibitionism (shhh), oral (m receiving), dry humping, kIsSiNg, idk alcohol but a tiny bit; ichigo is down bad ok, idk what to tell u; reader is also down bad but she thinks she's being stealthy abt it. (if u see any typos/grammatical errors shhh no u didn't)

“imprison me in your name, let love kill me.” — mahmoud darwish

i love you, with a touch of tragedy and quite madly.” — simone de beauvoir

SUNDAY — 12:01 a.m.

in such a vast, mostly unexplored universe — where curses and wishes exist ubiquitously, teetering on opposite ends of a complicated spectrum of morality — there is one universal truth: love is a fucking battlefield. such is the woe of one kurosaki ichigo as he navigates through the various intricacies involved with such a strong emotion. if it was up to him, he wouldn’t suffer through it — but it’s not. his heart is incredibly foolish, his mind even more so; and despite what others might think, he’s not exactly as confident in his capabilities in romance. which is why he’s resorted to mapping out different ways to get you to do the work for him.

mostly because he can’t bear the agonizing feelings that come with vulnerability. so, rather than him ask you out, he’s attempting to get you to do it instead. inspiration strikes when he’s sitting at his desk after midnight, textbooks and notebooks strewn about, his studying long forgotten. ichigo spends an hour or so mulling over the hows and whys of everything, when a brilliant idea — or, series of brilliant ideas, rather — suddenly pops into his head. tearing out a piece of paper from his notebook, he scribbles down his thoughts, as if he’s afraid they’ll leave him forever if he doesn’t find a way to hold onto them. by the time he finishes, his hand is covered in splotches of ink, but he’s satisfied with his work.

he’s not completely sure if it’ll all pan out the way he wants, but he’s willing to give it a shot.

MONDAY — 10:56 a.m

it’s out of pure coincidence that he runs into you at the convenience store. you’re in an aisle with items that are on sale — a mega sale, at that — perusing through the little tubes of lotion and hand sanitizer, admiring the cute designs on each bottle, contemplating how many to buy. he’s tall enough that he spots you before you see him — which takes a long damn time, if he’s honest — but as you busy yourself looking at different items on the shelves, he takes to watching you from afar.

there’s something frighteningly beautiful about the way you make simple things look graceful and magical. from the way you carefully drag your fingertip along the labels, admiring the designs, giggling at some cute artwork; to the way you tilt your head, confusion clouding your vision as you debate internally over which product to buy; to the way you decide to shove as many items into your basket as possible, face flushed at the impropriety of purchasing so many — but they’re on sale, so you justify your shopping before you head to the cashier.

the entire time you move around, you feel his eyes on you; while he might think he’s being stealthy, you’re very aware of his presence. and how could you not be? ichigo isn’t someone you can ignore — nor would you ever try to, he’s such a dynamic person, kind without realizing, stubborn and silly, and, more importantly, incredibly handsome. you think it’s cute how he slinks through each aisle to follow you carefully — dressed as inconspicuously as possible — ducking whenever you turn your face to try and catch him, except he’s so damn tall that he can’t really hide too well.

still, you let him continue playing his little game, and head to the register to check out. maybe he’ll eventually let you in on whatever it is he’s planning if you play along. but he never approaches you, doesn’t call after you when you leave the store, which only leaves disappointment and confusion to fester around your stomach. he curses under his breath as he watches you walk further and further away from him; he’d meant to say something, to call out to you earlier, but nerves got the best of him, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

TUESDAY — 3:39 p.m.

the library is packed, students crammed into each seat and table along the first few floors. after the fiasco from yesterday, ichigo is that much more determined to make sure that things go according to plan today. again, it’s out of pure coincidence, that he’s also at the library around the same time you are. it’s almost instinctual, the way he spots you right away; he admires the shape of your calves, the way your skirt sits snugly around your wide hips, barely reaching the middle of your thick thighs.

it’s impossible for him not to watch you, not when you pause to look around the floor for an empty seat — teeth sinking into your bottom lip, lashes fluttering every time you blink. he knows how much you hate being in crowds of people, how your focus wanes if there’s too much noise around, and how you like to be away from any sort of distraction — you’re quite the dedicated student, he supposes.

so, it’s no surprise that you bypass the floor he’s on and scurry up the stairs, hand gliding up the wooden railing; an innocuous move that has him clench the pencil in his hand tight enough to crack it. he’s suddenly hit with the desire to be a damn railing — an odd, maddening feeling as absurd as it is debilitating. he almost doesn’t hear his name being called, but he does eventually look away and he’s intercepted by orihime and tatsuki. they implore him to sit with their group to study, much to his annoyance because you’ve left his sight and now he wants to go find you.

but he’ll deal need to deal with them, first.

ichigo reluctantly agrees — only after orihime gives him a sweet, yet pleading look, and tatsuki smirks and mouthing what now, almost as if she’s challenging him to defy their request — and plops down on an empty chair. his long legs knock into the neighboring chair and his complaints are ignored by his friends.

you struggle as you lug your heavy bag upstairs to the fourth floor; it’s eerie there, much too quiet, and for some reason people stay away from it. superstitions run rampant around campus about how everyone who studies on the fourth floor happens to fail every exam and assignment. you’re not one to believe in stupid shit like that, but you do say a quick prayer before settling down on one of the lone tables in the middle of the floor. despite being relatively empty, it’s well-kept and very tidy.

sunlight filters through the thick glass of the windows, illuminating the dated furniture and archaic books that litter the bookshelves nearby. it takes a few minutes, but you set up your textbooks and notes so you can review for your upcoming exam. ten minutes pass before you groan for the fifth time and place your face in your hands. you thought that studying by yourself would give you some distance from ichigo, but unfortunately, he’s been on your mind since yesterday. you chew on your thumbnail and consider your options; for whatever reason, he’s too dense to realize that you like him, but maybe you’ll need to be more forthcoming and upfront — maybe even dangle some bait to encourage him.

WEDNESDAY — 8:12 p.m.

after your first round of exams, you invite ichigo over to your apartment for a movie — a small, celebratory break in between midterms. your argument is sound — although, he would’ve agreed regardless — and he volunteers to come with plenty of snacks. all you can do is nod, you’re much too captivated by the shape of his jaw and with how his lips stretch into a smile. absolutely infuriating. all it does is make him radiate like some damn sun god, and you’re offended by it.

and for some reason, a small flutter in your chest causes you to inhale a sharply — thankfully you��re already on your way out of the lecture hall, walking swiftly in the hopes of permanently ridding yourself of whatever this is. you spend the next few hours obsessively scrubbing and organizing your apartment; by the time ichigo arrives, you’re physically exhausted. you miscalculated quite a bit, naively thinking that a bit of manual labor would cure you of your burdensome desire. but it doesn’t. if anything, you think about him even more. how will you survive with him alone with you during the night?

he's in a similar predicament, having spent the duration of his afternoon obsessively thinking about how best to deal with you — the situation was rather stressful, and while he could just sit down and talk with you honestly, it seemed more appropriate to approach things this way instead. he’s been to your place a handful of times, and he commits just a bit more to memory whenever he can. you’re a colorful person with plants hanging and stacked around cutely; you have an affinity for cooking and have artsy pieces scattered throughout your apartment. it fits you perfectly, and he likes how much more relaxed you are whenever you’re away from campus.

“you weren’t kidding when you said bring a lot of snacks,” you say, disrupting his thoughts, voice light and melodic. you eye the bags in his hands and offer to grab a few; ichigo frowns and lifts the bags away and over your head.

“they’re not heavy,” he says gruffly. he rolls his eyes while walking around you, legs carrying him quickly to the living room. if he didn’t give himself some space, your perfume would hold him hostage again; the last time he was this close, the scent of warm apples and sweet strawberries clung to his lungs with every inhale for at least a week. if he’s not careful, he’ll willingly fall into your trap all over again.

he places the bags on the coffee table before sitting on the couch, legs spread wide as he leans back. he appreciates how comfortable it is — with cushions soft enough to easily lull him to sleep. he fights it, of course, especially when you sit down next to him, thigh casually pressed against his. you don’t seem as bothered about this as he is, and when you cross one shapely leg over the other, he covertly adjusts himself while you’re preoccupied with the tv, leisurely scrolling through the options with the remote.

if he has to pinpoint what to blame, specifically, he’ll say it’s your exposed shoulders and flimsy shorts, your round breasts that stretch out your shirt, and your continued insistence on not wearing a bra whenever you’re alone with him.

he swallows hard and reaches down for one of the water bottles he brought along with the snacks; in the middle of him chugging half of the bottle, you place a hand on his thigh and give it a squeeze. he chokes and coughs a bit, hand clutching the bottle harder than he means to, making the remaining liquid shoot out and splash onto your arm and shirt. a deep flush crawls onto his face and ears as he mumbles an apology; you press your lips together, but barely contain your laughter.

“ichigo, what the hell was that?” you’re grinning so hard that your cheeks hurt. he turns his face and wipes some water from his chin with the back of his hand. “it’s not a big deal, really.” and it isn’t. honestly. you finally pick a movie — something gory and full of suspense — and settle back next to him, body pressed closely to his. the water didn’t help, and your hand is back on his thigh, stroking up and down. you’re not sure what possesses you to do it, but the compulsion hit you hard the moment you saw him sitting on your couch. it’s a pet peeve of yours whenever people take up that much space — the habit is obnoxious and selfish — but since he looks so damn good doing it, you give him an eternal pass.

even through the denim of his jeans, he can feel the heat radiating off of your hand, especially when you brush against his bulge, making his erection that much more painful. his cock is thick and heavy, precum drips through his underwear as he clenches his jaw and inhales through his nostrils. you watch him through your lashes and rub your hand up and down his stiff length. his eyes track your movements, the way your tongue darts out and briefly runs along your lips; he’s sure he could cum just by watching you do that over and over again.

maybe he needs help, or maybe he needs to investigate your lips and tongue properly.

as if commanded by an invisible puppeteer, you lean closer and place a hand on his chest; if there was ever a moment for ichigo to act impulsively, it’s now. he tangles his fingers in your dark curls, firmly gripping, tugging you towards him. he slants his lips against yours, tongue licking inside your mouth, caressing your tongue, bringing a heat through your body, an inferno that won’t ever be satisfied. you climb onto his lap, chest heaving, mumbling nonsense like “what took you so long,” and “stop teasing me, please”, kisses growing sloppy and urgent.

whatever sliver of restraint he has vanishes completely once you grind your hips against his, that familiar ache swirling around your abdomen casts a haze over your mind, making your logic nonexistent. his hands settle on your hips, gripping them hard enough to make you gasp and whine, arousal slipping between your folds and dampening your panties. you roll your hips, slowly at first but picking up the pace when ichigo brings a hand to your ass and slaps it. the sting has you jutting your hips forward, pussy bucking against his clothed cock, moaning pathetically against his lips.

if this is a dream, please don’t wake him; there’s a low pounding in his ears, and he takes a moment to admire the curve of your round ass, cupping it playfully. your nails sink into his shoulders, and he hisses while littering kisses along your jaw and down your throat. you bite down on your lip, stifling another moan. the movie long forgotten, you let out a small squeal when he sucks on your skin — teeth and tongue marking you, goosebumps pricking your arms and legs. you know there’ll be a bruise tomorrow, but you don’t care; he can leave as many marks as he likes.

you almost tell him as much, mouth opening, words stumbling over one another. “ichigo, i—”

several loud knocks on your door — accompanied by the terribly obnoxious ringing from your doorbell — has you scrambling off of his lap, face flushed and warm. you practically sprint towards the door, although you pause to catch your breath and fix your clothes a bit. ichigo lets out a frustrated groan, arousal pummeling into him, making it hard to think straight. he hadn’t planned on moving from his spot on the couch, but when he hears multiple voices coming from the front door, cowardice wins out and he hides in your bathroom. it takes five minutes for his cock to settle down, but when he goes to join you in the living room again, several of your friends are eating and lounging around on the floor and couch.

ever the gracious host, you’re pouring drinks for everyone, only pausing when you catch ichigo watching you. already your voice is an octave too high, your panties are clinging to your pussy, damp from your slick arousal. you do your best to not make large movements, preferring to keep your thighs as close together as possible.

annoyance pricks along the back of his neck as keigo clinks shot glasses with mizuiro; he didn’t think that telling them about his plans with you would lead to everyone else showing up too. now there are plans of ordering pizza and wings, of playing drinking games. and naturally tatsuki volunteers ichigo to go pick the food up. he shoots you an apologetic look, one that you wave away noncommittally. you know it’s not really his fault, his friends are just like that. still, you make sure to keep your hair down to obscure the various marks on your skin. you frown a bit when ichigo leaves but fix your features when orihime bounces over to you.

with a tilt of her head, eyes wide and bright, clear and strangely critical, she asks, “what’s wrong?” you know she means well, but you’d rather not discuss the fact that you were seconds away from pulling ichigo’s cock out and riding him until your pussy gave out when they all decided to come over.

“hm?” you try to clear your mind and adopt a friendly smile, “nothing’s wrong, just a little tired.” it’s true, though; you really are tired. all that studying, all that obsessing, it’s bound to make a girl exhausted. you can tell that she wants to press the issue, but in typical orihime fashion, she smiles and leaves it at that. the noisiness only serves to sober you up, but you doubt you’ll be able to sate the desire that steadily keeps building inside of you.

THURSDAY — 1:43 p.m.

tatsuki drags you and orihime to the gym, claiming that running is good for the soul — or something to that effect. you vaguely remember promising her last night, after downing one too many shots of whiskey, that you’d gladly accompany her to work out. your head throbs, your hangover a reoccurring nightmare, one that seems to follow you around all day. you try weaseling out, try to flake, but tatsuki is determined and stubborn as hell. you both admire and despise her for it right now.

you take it easy and stretch with the girls, before heading towards the treadmills. what some might consider benevolence on the universe’s part, ichigo considers cruelty; case in point, the fact that you’re here in the gym, when he knows for a fact that you’re not the exercising type — you’ve blurted this out more times than he can count, which is why he remembers. he drops from the pull up bar and grabs his towel to wipe his face, chest constricting, breathing ragged at the sight of you.

in the back of his mind, he understands that your attire is practical, he’s also quickly aroused by it; your leggings cling to your legs, highlighting your curves, stretching tight around your ass. your tank top flowing, your breasts almost spilling out of your sports bra, it was too much for him to handle at once. incidentally, you feel that ichigo working out shirtless should be illegal; your throat dries as your eyes travel along his broad chest, a ravenous hunger taking hold of your senses, that bothersome ache returning as you press your thighs together. you didn’t realize you’d stopped walking to watch him, muscles firm and thick, sweat clinging to his skin.

tatsuki calls your name repeatedly, and you have to remind yourself that you’re here to exercise and not gawk. it’s then that it dawns on you, your brain will never function properly around him — now that you’ve felt him, you lack focus. his sweatpants sit low on his hips, causing you to actually lose your damn balance; it’s partially comical, but mostly pathetic when you trip over your feet and helplessly fall onto the floor. your hands ball into fists, fingers curled inward, nails leaving tiny indents into your palms. you barely feel it, though, you’re too busy trying to regulate your breathing.

“y/n are you okay?” orihime rushes to help you stand back up; your face burns and you know that if you don’t put some distance between you and ichigo quickly, you’ll end up embarrassing yourself even more.

“yep, just peachy!” the lie is flimsy and you know that she doesn’t buy it, but you’re sticking with it. the truth is just too pitiful. ichigo frowns, fingers twitching as he grips the bar harder. you’re normally not that clumsy, and he’s half tempted to go and see if you’re okay. but the girls crowd you and he knows he’ll only make things worse if he interferes. you finally find a treadmill and even though you should probably stay off of it, you decide to use it anyway. you set a decent speed and fix the incline, opting to jog until your legs give out. if you suffer one more transgression, you’ll never be able to face ichigo again. already you feel that familiar burning sensation in your thighs, but you don’t stop; you’re not sure how long you keep at it, but ichigo is long gone when your body has finally had enough.

you drink some water and try to catch your breath. your mind is buzzing; you wish it was ichigo who helped you up instead. it’s a strange thing to be disappointed about, but you can’t stop imagining his strong arms wrapped around your soft waist. a lightheaded feeling takes over, you’re not sure how much more you can take; you’re barely surviving as is with minimal interactions with him.

he heads straight for the locker room as soon as he’s done with his last rep; no amount of cold water from the shower can snap him out of the daze you put him in. everything about you is dizzying, and just remembering how your lips and hands were on him, how soft your ass was, how he was so close to sinking his cock into your pussy the night before, makes his cock hard all over again. he has enough sense to ignore it, but he saw you jogging and nearly fell off the pull up bar. you’re dangerous, that much is certain; he’s never been this captivated by a person, so it’s almost as if he’s navigating through new territory.

“fucking ridiculous,” he says bitterly and turns off the shower so he can get dressed. he knows what he needs to do, he just needs everyone in his life to stop interfering so he can properly talk with you alone.

FRIDAY — 6:15 p.m.

for whatever reason, his friends conspire together and decide to do dinner at orihime’s house. rukia and tatsuki both shoo orihime out of the kitchen, not wanting to deal with whatever strange concoction her impulses come up with. it’s meant to be a casual affair, which he reminds you again when he stops by your apartment to pick you up. ichigo raids your fridge for something to munch on while he waits, and after fifteen minutes, he makes his way down the narrow hallway to your room. the door is open, so he assumes you must be all done, walking in without announcing himself properly.

there are several outfits strewn about on your bed; after the fourth one, you huff and stomp around your room, the carpet soft underneath your feet as you try to reason with yourself. it’s really because you’re nervous that ichigo asked you to go with him — as his date. or, at least, you’re sure that’s what he meant by inviting you to the dinner. you told ichigo you wouldn’t take long, but that was clearly a lie — not an intentional one, but a lie nonetheless.

“are you still not done?” he pauses, eyes landing on your half naked body; he gets hard instantly at the sight of your soft stomach and thick thighs. you’re too focused on your current crisis that you barely register that he’s in your room as you head back into the closet to look for another dress. if he had better morals and sense, he’d leave you to get dressed at your own pace; but, unfortunately for him, his body is the worst kind of traitor. this has been the longest week of his entire life, but he’s thankful that he has you to himself again.

you put on a new dress and flip your hair over your shoulder. “help me, please.” because your arms are still sore from working out and you figure there’s no harm in asking for his assistance. his heart lodges itself in the base of his throat, hands shaking a bit — nerves or excitement, he’s not sure — but he manages to tug the small zipper up without much issue. his hands linger on your hips, cock stiff as it angrily presses against the front of his pants.

suddenly, you’re very, very aware of how close he’s standing.

he knows that if he doesn’t let go of you, he’ll feel inclined to skip the dinner altogether. but he doesn’t want to deal with the repercussions of flaking, so he decides against it. he does, however, brush his lips along the side of your neck, leaving behind a trail of slow kisses. you’re teetering over the edge, falling further under his spell as his hands roam along your body, roughly kneading your breasts over the fabric of your dress.

you test the proverbial waters and rub your ass against his bulge, which prompts him to bite your neck in warning. you let out a small yelp and softly moan his name; you end up losing more of your composure when he turns you around and kisses you. his appetite is insatiable, his kisses feverish and demanding, a frenzied whirlwind that has you unbuckling his pants and tugging his zipper down to pull out his cock.

his imagination will never compare — your hands are still soft as ever, even as they grip him eagerly, twisting while pumping up and down his length. he hisses when you rub your thumb against the tip and kisses you ardently, tongue brazen as it swirls around yours before sucking on it. you rub your thighs together, breathing unevenly, his kisses scalding and potent. you pry yourself away from him and sink to your knees, tongue running flat against his length, circling around his thick head of his cock and licking the precum that seeps out of his slit.

ichigo’s moans echo in your room, bouncing off the walls, prompting you to open your mouth so you can take in as much of him as you can. he presses a fist to his mouth when you start bobbing your head, cheeks hollowed, mouth hot and tight; you caress his balls with your free hand, enjoying the way his cheeks are flushed and the way he licks his lips while looking down at you. he doesn’t think when he grabs your head and starts fucking your mouth and doesn’t think when you hold onto his thighs and relax your jaw to accommodate for his girth.

you can’t lie, you’ve been dreaming about this for longer than you care to admit — it’s almost embarrassing how badly you’ve wanted to have his cock in your mouth, but you never imagined that ichigo would be like this; rough, clumsy, but every bit as tantalizing as ever. you let him have his way, using your mouth and throat as he thrusts his cock deeper. you gag but maintain eye contact, tears streaming down your cheeks at the ferocity of his thrusts.

you know something must be wrong with you because your panties are soaked, the ache building from deep inside, bubbling and pushing you closer to the edge. you like this side of him, the one that’s a little unhinged and feral, a man possessed with a certain goal on his mind. he knows he should be a bit gentler, but the way you’re looking at him, like you’re more than pleased with how he’s handling you, convinces him otherwise.

“fuck,” he pants, breath coming out in shallow puffs. his phone rings, startling both of you; he wants to ignore it but has a feeling that it’s one of his friends asking for his whereabouts. he pulls out of your mouth, drool spilling down your chin. he has so many things that he wants to say to you, but none of them come to mind. you’re not ready for any of this to end, so you motion for him to pick up the phone and stroke his cock again.

he hesitates only for a moment, but you have a mischievous look on your face, and he knows better than to test your patience right now. “w-what is it?” he asks when he answers the phone, voice low and husky, a shiver sliding down your spine when you suck on the head of his cock. he clamps his mouth shut in the hopes of keeping as quiet as possible, but mizuiro sounds so concerned and keeps asking why he’s giving him one- or two-word responses. however, ichigo’s desire to fuck you is greater than his guilt; besides, he realizes, belatedly, that you want someone to catch him like this.

it's hot, he won’t lie. and he’d indulge you more, but with the way you’re stroking and sucking his cock, he doubts he’ll be able to tolerate a full conversation with mizuiro — especially as he drones on about how imperative it is for ichigo to keep his promises.

blah, blah, blah.

he cuts the conversation short, tossing the phone onto the floor behind him. he grabs onto your arm, hauls you to your feet, and his mouth is on yours again. orihime’s dinner party is the last thing on both of your minds, not when he leaves you breathless, kissing you until your lips are swollen, lipstick smeared. his hands are on the move again as he tugs your dress off of you, mouth placing messy kisses down your chest, teeth tugging on your hardened nipples before sucking on them. it’s impossible to keep steady when each ichigo’s mouth is ruining your life in the best way possible.

your arousal clings to the inner parts of your thighs, you’re practically begging him to fuck you, words barely coherent as you fuss at him, but he understands you just fine. after pulling the rest of his clothes off, he picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist as he holds you against the wall. if he were a better man, he’d have the courtesy to fuck you on your bed; but he isn’t thinking properly, and he’s tired of playing around. he snakes a hand lower, fingers rubbing your pussy, dragging needy whimpers out of you.

“ichigo, damn it,” your frustration is cute and he can’t help but continue to tease you. he slides his fingers into your tight, needy hole, fingers sinking deeply without much resistance.

“you’re so wet, i don’t think i need to prep you at all.” he’s impressed, actually and likes how your pussy keeps sucking his fingers back in every time he pulls them back. you buck your hips against his hand, and if it wasn’t for his arm holding you securely, you’d fall over with ease.

you can barely look at him, cheeks permanently flushed as you moan loudly for him. “that’s it,” he coaches, thumb circling around your clit, fingers scissoring roughly, “you want me to fuck you that badly?”

your eyes grow wide but you nod and breathe out a, “yes. i’ve been waiting for so damn long.” the confession surprises him, as he was under the impression that he was the only one who suffered the entire time. and, because his cock is running the show, he plucks his fingers out of you, lines his tip with your entrance and slams his cock inside. you claw at the back of his neck and all along his chest, legs trembling as his hips knock against yours roughly. nothing could prepare him for the way your plush, gummy walls suffocate him — wet and warm, a snug fit that he’ll never tire of.

you move your hips in tandem with his, matching the timing of his thrusts, as you press sloppy kisses along his jaw, nails raking down his broad back. ichigo’s hips rock forward, cock burrowing deeper with each stroke. both of you are at your limits, he knows he won’t last much longer, but he’ll try his best anyway. his pace quickens, your pussy making lewd, squelching noises, your wetness coating his cock prettily. your breasts bounce as he fucks you harder, your voice growing hoarse from how loud you are, enticing him to pound into you wildly.

he licks the base of your throat, groaning against your skin when you roll your hips, cunt full as his cock is buried to the hilt; his tip hits a spot that makes you hold onto him tighter, breathing shallow as you call out his name. he commits the moment to memory — something to look back on late at night — thoroughly enjoying how you’re writhing underneath him. he angles his hips, keeps them closer to yours, bucking against you recklessly — his cock bringing about an incurable madness that takes over your entire being.

maybe it’s because you’ve been denying yourself for so long — or maybe it’s because you’ve been teasing one another all week — but you feel as if a bit of weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. his balls are heavy, each slap against your ass makes you clench around him more. he rubs your clit, firm small circles that send tiny jolts throughout your body. your back arches as your walls spasm, fluttering around his cock, hips stuttering under his powerful thrusts. the orgasm leaves you dazed, eyes rolling back, your cunt puffy but greedy as it milks him shamelessly.

he never pegged you for a squirter, yet you keep defying his expectations. you want to bury your head underground for eternity, hating the way your orgasm has you incapacitated, slumping over him while your wetness spills onto your carpet.

ichigo keeps fucking you until his hips jerk, rhythm disrupted, cum thick and hot as it spills inside of you. he humps you lazily and you pepper his face with wet kisses, his heart leaping out of his chest as your fingers sift through his hair. both of you are sweaty and out of breath, but when you look up at him, something close to adoration flits across his face. you’re not sure if that’s a post-orgasm sort of thing, but you’ll take it for what it is.

you brush your lips against his, gently kissing him, and ask if he still wants to go to dinner. ichigo shoots you an incredulous look and you laugh in response. “okay, okay,” you pat his chest gently, “boyfriends shouldn’t look at their girlfriends like that.” you say it casually enough that it feels like a joke, but you’re too damn nervous to look at him to see his reaction.

his ears grow hot and he presses his lips together for a moment before mumbling a, “sorry, won’t happen again.” you pinch his cheek and playfully lick at his lips. a warmth travels to your chest, nestles into the crevices that line the inside of your heart, and makes you want to kiss him all over again. he takes that as a sign of forgiveness — although he isn’t actually sure if you meant it or not — and carries you over to your bed. while he initially set out to get you to confess first, somewhere along the way, his mission fell apart. still, he can’t say he’s unhappy about the outcome. and, sure, his friends might give him an earful for missing out on dinner, but he’s much more content and comfortable being with you right now to care.

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ohbo-ohno · 9 months

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I would lovvvveee to hear more abt this post:

https://www.tumblr.com/ohbo-ohno/728757872227450880/think-my-favourite-soulmate-au-is-the-sharing

Not necessarily anything specific I just want to hear anything more you’ve cooked up for it. Does reader hate them for the pain they both put them through? Do they feel remorseful? What do they do when they finally have reader? Shdbdhduhgggaffff my all time fav

i looove soulmate au's but tbh idk if im actually any good at writing them lol

it would depend on how they approached you i think! i always really like the idea of a soulmate being really really eager to meet their partner, only to be let down immediately or terrified.

i could see a reader who's been through hell along with these two guys and feels closer to them for it, who empathizes with their shared suffering and spends her nights agonizing over what might have actually been Happening to them.

if they came up to her normally, she'd be more than receptive. two soulmates are incredibly rare (idfk) and she's got two very very attractive soulmates at that - she's ready to be with them forever. sure, the depths of their possession freaks her out a bit, but honestly she's protective of them too

in a dlmliyh au or really anything where they kidnap her, she'd develop a deep resentment for them more. she's been suffering every wound they've had for years - was literally bedridden for months when ghost was kidnapped! was stuck bedridden dozens of times after that! - if they kidnap her and keep her captive she's going to let what might've been empathy turn to anger real quick. they've been putting her through hell for her entire life and now they're kidnapping her?????? oh yeah i can see her being pissed

you could maybe do an au where reader is suspected of being someone she isn't and is taken in for questioning. someone backhands her and ghost jolts forward from the wall when he feels the smack too. they'd still be suspicious of you, but once it was clear you hadn't done anything wrong they'd be very soft, bundling you up in their arms, johnny (not simon, he stands by it) apologizing for the way you met. you either hold it against them in a darker au, or use it as a very funny "how we met" story in a lighter au

#asks and answers #ghoap x reader #soulmate au

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wyldblunt · 1 year

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hi personal post just under a cut, it's not even serious or negative or anything i just feel like blabbering and it's embarrassing to have it out in the open lol

i NEED......... to get over how shy i am abt playing w ppl in game... it's not even just Running Content, i mean i get anxious/shy about even just. goofing around aimlessly/map completing with anyone i haven't known for literally years. or who i am not literally married to.

idk what it is!!! my brain immediately kicks into overdrive and gets completely clogged up with "am i not talking enough. are they getting bored. am i moving too fast/slow. i don't know what to do. this is stressing me out" and i have zero idea how to stop myself from getting like that. literally yesterday (SORRY IF THIS WAS YOU??? I THOUGHT YOU WERE NICE FWIW) someone came up to me and marina in game and said hi nicely and asked what we were up to and i like. Answered Once, and then did not talk again the whole time, and we sort of ran around together for a bit until i kind of lost track of them but the ENTIRE TIME i was agonizing over "am i being totally unfriendly and weird by not chatting. am i coming off like i want them to go away or just generally like an asshole" and as you can see i am also still agonizing about it now. even though objectively it was probably completely fine.

and EVEN WITH very good friends i've known for a long time i clam up like that... when i was trying to get into ffxiv some very good friends stopped by to give me stuff/say hi to my character etc and i got the exact same way!!! ppl i literally talk to all the time on twitter etc but then the second we're behind in game avatars i just get stressed out and start feeling super awkward and aside from like. jumping in place a few times suddenly forget literally every single thing i have ever known about human socialization

but it's dumb!!! and i'm so over it!!!! i wanna run dungeons and fractals and stuff, i even wanna scrape a group together to kind of activate my old guild again and claim a guild hall, stuff like that... and i KNOW the tumblr community is a great way to do that bc u guys are all so friendly and chill and it's way better than trying to throw myself into pugs or whatever. but oh my god. my fucking BRAIN, man

as i type this all out i do wonder if maybe a solution would be getting on voice chat w ppl while trying to play stuff together bc i truly feel like 90% of my anxiety comes from "i cannot type in chat and play at the same time, therefore i get super overwhelmed and confused about how to communicate naturally" and i feel like vc would solve that. but uh. if anyone does not mind sometimes running content with a guy who will probably be mostly silent and weird the whole time (the real glyndwr experience!!!!) please feel free to hit me up and i will get back to u between three and six billion business days

EDIT adding on more bc im still thinking lol. i just have a huge huge fear of coming off like a dick or like im unfriendly or something. ppl have constantly told me im intimidating for ages and it hurts my feelings and i get really antsy about it (this is why i never play reblog games abt like "rate how intimidating the person u reblogged from is" etc bc if anyone actually said they were scared of me i would get sad for real lol!!!). i naturally usually have a kind of flat/dry affect online and i make friends slowly, and i don't feel like changing how i express myself bc it's natural to me but. agh!!!! agh!!!! my wittle feelings!!!!!!

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stardustdiiving · 9 months

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From the ship ask! What's a pairing most people seem to like in Genshin that you don't?

(ship asks prompt)

MAN OKAY I honestly could answer this with a good third of popular Genshin ships…but none of these are really solid dislikes, it’s just me feeling specific about how I like to see it executed & finding the way the fandom handles it is either unsatisfying, or generates an environment that kinda stresses me out NJDNCNC

To narrow it down to one I feel matches the question best I think I’m gonna go with Kokomi/Sara. It’s not really an active dislike or anything I promise I’m genuinely chilling. *insane person voice* but see I am just very stressed out with the in universe geo-politics happening in the background of this Genshin impact ship

I MEAN THAT IN A VERY SILLY WAY. but also I do have a genuine elaboration on what i mean which is like…how do I say this.

I really like Watasumi Island and find their existence + circumstances as a nation really interesting, especially regarding their dynamic with the Shogunate—it’s like the one part of inazuman politics that really catches my interest. But see the way I took the way the Shogunate + Watasumi dynamic was being written was specifically that Watasumi is/was suffering from colonization/imperialism at the hands of the Shogunate. I don’t see them as equal enemies on opposing sides of a conflict I’m just kind of like. Oh my god the Shogunate tries to control their primary food sources + military and after the war u see like, Gorou helping smuggle medicine and food supplies to treat their wounded war veterans bc the Shogunate is imposing high taxes on them they can’t afford to pay. The Raiden Shogun slaughtered their deity who was kind of backed into a corner on trying to secure vital resources for his people and to this day his corpse is just sitting on her territory getting ravaged and mined for weapons !! That’s crazy! I like thinking Abt that!

While I think Inazuma suffered from the writers dropping the ball with a lot of things I am generally happy this dynamic is explored/acknowledged repeatedly and Watasumi at least to me doesn’t feel like it’s constantly written in a really meanspirited and shitty way you know. Like, in the medicine supply smuggling thing i mentioned — that’s a route in Heizhou’s hangout that ends in a conclusion that something may have severely hurt the vitality of Watasumi’s land and it’s ability to provide, but that doesn’t mean they won’t survive or all hope is lost, because theres people within Watasumi who care and embody that hope and vitality within themselves and are working hard to build stability and provide for everyone. Like idk that’s really cool and I genuinely found it a really nice narrative that really makes me root for Watasumi

But then we get to Sara & Kokomi and ppl just do not talk about this dynamic between both nations at all from what I see, despite it being really relevant to the characters and in theory the appeal of the ship? And I jusurjfucn I guess it confuses me a lot bc I remember, most recently for example on the TCG event, I was so confused seeing everyone post about their interactions for days about how it was cute they were engaging in card matches together and Sara wanted to be friends…and then I played the event myself and we get this scene where Kokomi is standing off starring out at sea alone, and she talks about how she doesn’t like how she can’t see Watasumi from here, and how that was especially agonizing to experience during the war, and then gets caught up in her memories of the war and talks about how a lot of her people are still recovering from the trauma of it, and how she’s participating in this event bc she’s anxious about wanting to build good relations between the Shogunate and Watasumi so her nation doesn’t suffer more in the future AND IM JUST…MAN

Like I do think I can see Sara & Kokomi being friends, Sara’s character feels like it’s the concept of “individual with genuinely good morals working in an oppressive system doesnt stop the damage the system causes” kind of deal BUT IDK…I get fandom experiences can very anecdotal and I’m sure there are shippers who handle this aspect of the ship but when at large it just feels like it’s filed down to a vague enemies to lovers + contrasting aesthetic girlfriends ship I guess it def leans more towards being one I’m not really into. I think it doesn’t help it strikes the specific fandom pet peeve I have where I sometimes feel ppl water down a lot of wlw ships down to just being surface level cute and I am a lesbian who likes very nuanced and complicated character dynamic exploration so I’m personally just like. Yeah idk I guess this seems rlly widely accepted fanon wise but I don’t rlly click with it at all djjcnfj while I could be interested in this dynamic being explored, just if I were doing my own take on it ik adding romantic tones wouldnt feel super necessary to make it feel more interesting to me personally yk x__x

I just feel very excitable about a lot of genshin things and Watasumi vs Shogunate related things hits that mark of interest for me…definitely not implying the shippers r doing something wrong by making silly lighthearted posts and being less interested in types of analysis I enjoy but I guess that’s the most popular ship I feel the least interested in I can think of?

#fern.txt #asks #ask game #I tried to pick a more specific ship to discuss vs smthng I feel is more standard or expected #in terms of ‘popular ship u habe unpopular opinion Abt’ for genshin #ppl rag on ships like xv and zc a lot in these kinds of contexts n while I get what ppl mean when #they gripe about mischaracterizations but that happens with every ship and I don’t get ppl being hostile Abt either pairings #bc there’s plenty of cases I feel they can be fun and am down/open to interpretations of it….everyone has their own take on their Guys you k #maybe that’s bc anyone ik who likes it on my feed is just rlly nice and chill n I like their posts Abt it #like I 110% know how polarizing fandom can be and how u can get sour Abt things if u run into the wrong ppl enough #but sometimes ppl r so mean #Abt the ppl who like popular Genshin ships in general when i think like all of them r generally fine n maybe it’s me being very #specific in how I think of fandom but all their popularities make sense even with the one I talked Abt here #this one is just the one I guess I would feel i get the least but that doesn’t mean I don’t get it st all JDJNCNC

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palukoo · 3 months

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💖🧐⏳if you'd like!!

thank you so much for the ask :) i always end up making my answers so long so its under a cut

💖 What made you start writing?

so this one is basically impossible for me to answer. the first story i remember writing/trying to write was when i was 6 years old, and i think it was just bc i had ideas i thought were cool! the first fanfic i remember writing was when i was in like 5th grade and i remember i would do some writing and then my friends basically being like oh would you write this and i would handwrite fic during class or lunch or recess or whatever and give it to them, and at that point i was also constantly writing parts of original works, and then it just all spiraled! so at this point it's literally like. why wouldn't i write, what would that be like?

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

oh my god yes. it's awful. i mean, okay, it really really depends on the fic but there tends to be at least one detail i get really hung up on and spend hours researching, which honestly more often than not doesn't end up in the final product? i mean, long time followers, embarrassingly, may remember the agent carter roller derby au which i did research on the history of roller derby to try to make it actually reflect the state of the sport, in some way, in the 1940s. its extremely inconsistent though, even internally. like, for the cats that walk alone, i read the whole play of the women and the short story i named it after and read a little about reno divorces but i did not in fact even rewatch the film before posting it (i did watch it after posting and go oh so i got the timeline a little off but the title works out so much better than i originally intended??) probably the most gratuitous example is the amy fic, because i literally would have well over twenty tabs open in like congress.gov to try to incorporate bills/legislative debate that would actually be somewhat accurate for the early 2000s, and i also did a ton of research on like electoral maps and various theories and whatnot. more of that actually probably shows up in the second, currently unfinished and unpublished part which isn't exactly abandoned but its been a hot minute, because since that's post canon it involves a lot more of me making shit up and often drawing inspiration from actual real bills from corresponding or close to corresponding legislative sessions and modified numbers from elections. which was always :/ bc like. neither early 2000s politics nor tww ideas of politics are really things i agree with but i was like really committed to a degree of real world and canon accuracy. more recent examples for things that are unfinished and unpublished would be like doing research on the climates and demographics of various parishes and towns in louisiana, trying to find a map of railroads in 1940s arizona, reading about the state of maternal medicine specifically with regards to childbirth in the 1940s, and trying to find real postcards sold in melbourne, australia in the 1940s. the first i'm probably never gonna actually really write the fic associated with it and the last three i basically ended up getting vaguer in the writing to avoid specifics. typing this out is fascinating bc damn i've done some specific research abt the 1940s...

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

okay this depends so fucking much. i mean like, in 2020 when i was starting the amy fic, i wrote so fast. like its long as hell so it took me a long time but i would write like 5k in a day some days and i wrote that whole thing at a velocity that i had never done before and never have since. some things i also agonize over more than others i guess? my kiradax body swap au was a wip that i rewrote multiple times over the course of multiple years, but the final version probably didn't actually take that long? idk. the cats that walk alone is the most recent thing i have published and i made the file for it in mid june and published it in early september, but i think i had it mostly done sitting in my docs for a while. my current high focus wip is one i've been working on since november, but its also multi-chapter and shaping up to be longer than anticipated... i'm gonna say the answer varies but tends towards several months, but at a very uneven pace within that. ultimately, i also have the adhd thing of like, if i don't finish a project within a certain amount of time/at a certain level of hyperfixation, it usually will die, and that timing tends to max out within a year, give or take a few months.

#would that i could answer asks concisely... im a rambler; a qualifier and overexplainer of every statement i make #(which works out great writing fanfic lmfaoo)#asks #answered #hideyseek #my writing #side note the brain rot is severe... read 'if you'd like' in the voice of anne baxter as eve harrington <3

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