#I should write like actual content with them in it but most of it exists in my head
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An open letter to @staff
I already submitted this to Support under "Feedback," but I'm sharing it here too as I don't expect it to get a response, and I feel like putting in out in public may be more effective than sending it off into the void.
The recent post on the Staff blog about changing tumblr to an algorithmic feed features a large amount of misinformation that I feel staff needs to address, openly and honestly, with information on where this data was sourced at the very least.
Claim 1: Algorithms help small creators.
This is false, as algorithms are designed to push content that gets engagement in order to get it more engagement, thereby assuring that the popular remain popular and the small remain small except in instances of extreme luck.
This can already be seen on the tumblr radar, which is a combination of staff picks (usually the same half-dozen fandoms or niche special interests like Lego photography) which already have a ton of engagement, or posts that are getting enough engagement to hit the radar organically. Tumblr has an algorithm that runs like every other socmed algorithm on the planet, and it will decimate the reach of small creators just like every other platform before it.
Claim 2: Only a small portion of users utilize the chronological feed.
You can find a poll by user @darkwood-sleddog here that at the time of writing this, sits at over 40 THOUSAND responses showing that over 96 percent of them use the chronological feed*. Claiming otherwise isn't just a misstatement, it's a lie. You are lying to your core userbase and expecting them to accept it as fact. It's not just unethical, it's insulting to people who have been supporting your platform for over a decade.
Claim 3: Tumblr is not easy to use.
This is also 100% false and you ABSOLUTELY know it. Tumblr is EXTREMELY easy to use, the issue is that the documentation, the explanations of features, and often even the stability of the service is subpar. All of this would be very easy for staff to fix, if they would invest in the creation of walkthroughs and clear explanations of how various site features work, as well as finally fixing the search function. Your inability to explain how your service works should not result in completely ignoring the needs and wants of your core long-term userbase. The fact that you're more willing to invest in the very systems that have made every other form of social media so horrifically toxic than in trying to make it easier for people to use the service AS IT WORKS NOW and fixing the parts that don't work as well speaks volumes toward what tumblr staff actually cares about.
You will not get a paycheck if your platform becomes defunct, and the thing that makes it special right now is that it is the ONLY large-scale socmed platform on THE ENTIRE INTERNET with a true chronological feed and no aggressive algorithmic content serving. The recent post from staff indicates that you are going to kill that, and are insisting that it's what we want. It is not. I'd hazard to guess that most of the dev team knows it isn't what we want, but I assume the money people don't care. The user base isn't relevant, just how much money they can bring in.
The CEO stated he wanted this to remain as sort of the last bastion of the Old Internet, and yet here we are, watching you declare you intend to burn it to the ground.
You can do so much better than this.
Response to the Update
Under the cut for readability, because everything said above still applies.
I already said this in a reblog on the post itself, but I'm adding it to this one for easy access: people read it that way because that's what you said.
Staff considers the main feed as it exists to be "outdated," to the point that you literally used that word to describe it, and the main goals expressed in this announcement is to figure out what makes "high-quality content" and serve that to users moving forward.
People read it that way because that is what you said.
*The final results of the poll, after 24 hours:
136,635 votes breaks down thusly:
An algorithm based feed where I get "the best of tumblr." @ 1.3% (roughly 1,776 votes)
Chronological feed that only features blogs I follow. @ 95.2% (roughly 130,077 votes)
This doesn't affect me personally. @ 3.5% (roughly 4,782 votes)
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Is it just me or can I imagine a yandere with a darling who’s immune system and possibly everything about them just screams weak and pathetic, BUT their darling is actually very strong mentally and has and will create the most fucked up, batshit crazy inventions from what used to be harmless to something that can help them escape and possibly destroy everything in its path.
But at the end of the day, they become sleepy koalas who hug whoever is near them and fall asleep :)
This could be a request or rant, whatever you can think of! I just wanted to see how different yandere writers would interpret this small imagination of mine <3
But as always, stay safe and take care! everyone needs a break some time to time~
Sorry, but the moment I read the Darling's description, I instantly thought of Dr. Finkelstein from Nightmare Before Christmas. You know, Sally's inventor. 😭 So let me quickly write this down while I'm in my Shelley vibes, because I like the idea a lot. With a little twist, if you don't mind. :)
Yandere! Monster x Inventor! Reader
A frail inventor, and their affectionate rag doll that has been carefully stitched together for the purpose of a caregiver. An artificial existence, trapped within the confines of your lonely tower. Or so you might think.
Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, obsessive behavior
"I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel..." [Frankenstein]
You dangle an old, rusty bell for a good minute before leaning back in your chair. The barely audible chimes are quickly swallowed by the loud, mechanical groans of the gears and engines occupying most of this room. No matter, his ears are good. You picked them yourself. And surely enough, within moments, the door to your laboratory opens and someone cautiously walks in.
A tall, slender man. Or rather, something meant to resemble a man. The skin is a clumsy patchwork of blues and grays - you're no talented seamster, sadly - gathering together the body parts in what feels like a parodic attempt at mimicking God and his image. You gaze at the creature approaching you with a tray of tea and sweets. Scarcely your best work, if you must adhere to honesty. Regardless of the quality of your labor at the time of creation, you are proud of the result. How could you not be? You know this man better than you know yourself. Every organ, every artificial nerve cord, every blemish and stitch of his body was placed according to your intentions. A masterfully detailed project that took you years to complete; not an easy feat considering the lamentable state of your health.
"Here's your deadly nightshade tea." The man places a small, porcelain cup on the desk. "Do let me know when I should take you to bed, (Y/N)." You wave your hand dismissively and stretch out your limbs. "Not yet. I am almost finished", you respond, returning to the mound of metal scraps and pipes before you. "Can I ask what you're making?" The pale creature lowers himself to your level, a curious smile plastered on his face. "It's a mechanical heart", you reveal boastfully. "Like the one I have?" You run your hand through the creature's hair affectionately. "Almost. I'm testing out a different way to build the valves, for a more efficient pumping cycle." You continue to explain the intricacies of your novel mechanism, occasionally sipping on your tea. "Who knows, you might have a sibling in the near future."
The man's smile drops in an instant, and his sunken eyes widen at your statement. "What? Am I- am I not enough?" You glance at the creature as he becomes increasingly frantic. "Don't speak nonsense. If it comes out alright, I'll upgrade your own parts as well. I'm a disciple of scientific virtue, of continuous improvement." Nonsense? Vile treachery! You might've chiseled the brain that throbs within the walls of his skull, but his mind is his alone, and you seem to lack a fundamental understanding of his feelings and thoughts. His ardent confessions of love are met with mockingly pitiful grins, in the way a parent soothes a needy child. Even now, your eyes reflect nothing more than sympathy towards his protest. A childish tantrum is what you're most likely thinking. You've no time for emotional bagatelles. He can read you like an open book.
You simply won't understand. There is no place for a stranger in the life he's crafted with his very own hands: you, and him, and the evening tea with a side of butterscotch biscuits, and the bedtime talks, and the stripped branches of the decaying tree that rap at the windows on stormy nights. You might be the Inventor, but he is not just a mere, humble servant, a rag doll to be tossed around or toyed with. As you will soon discover, after all.
You awaken in the midst of night with your temples burning from a much too familiar headache. Although it's not just the pain that has disturbed your slumber. You can hear rattles and thuds coming from the upstairs laboratory. An intruder? Oh, your creations! The sound of glass breaking and metal scraping sends you into spiraling despair. You fumble to reach the nightstand, patting the surface in search for the bell and keys. You shake the handle in a panic, unable to find anything else in the darkness.
The chaotic rustle abruptly stops, followed by descending footsteps. You hold your breath as the chamber door opens, but it's none other than your creature. "Another flare-up? Shall I bring you some medicine?" the man asks with monotonous courtesy. "What have you been doing? What's all that noise?" you demand, agitated, but upon lifting yourself off the mattress you discover your legs are numb and uncooperative. The man hurries to your bed with a worried frown, and you hear the familiar clatter of the keychain coming from one of his pockets. "Have you taken my keys? Cease this foolishness at once!" Indifferent to your reproach, he places a firm hold on your shoulders and forces you back down, tucking you in effortlessly.
"You must forgive my impertinence." he says in a pleading tone. "I do not wish to impede the works of your genius. As your partner, however, it is my duty to prevent you from making mistakes." You furrow your eyebrows at his words. "What mistakes? My invention was flawless!", you argue fervently. "Indeed it was, but not its purpose. What need have you for another being?" It is the creature's turn for a passionate speech. He stands up with a confidence you don't recognize and continues: "You should know by now that I am fit to perform any role. That of your servant, your caregiver, your lover, or anything else you may desire. You can resume your tinkering starting tomorrow, but such blasphemies to our bond as the one today will not be tolerated." He straightens his vest and reaches for the door handle. "I will prepare some tea to help you rest."
Inconceivable. Your own creation, built with your own hands...Has something escaped your attention? His dialogue is deranged, tainted by madness. "Have I done something wrong?" you mumble to yourself, deep in contemplation. "Nonsense." the creature turns to face you briefly. "It was you who created me after all. Everything is perfectly splendid."
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#male yandere x reader#yandere monster#yandere monster x reader#monster x human#monster x reader#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#gender neutral reader#yandere headcanons#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere creation
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I have really mixed feelings about the small proportion of F/F fiction (original or fanfic), because yeah sure, people have their desires, they should write what they want, I get it. It all works out when I hear it from person to person. But somehow the logic only ever applies in one direction? "There are more male protagonists because men only care about male characters! Women also mostly care about male characters, because that's the majority of characters they get!" And then somehow we also yet kvetch when men write female characters (because it's incorrectly or something, nevermind if women are writing male characters correctly). Why don't we expect gay men to feel compelled only by femslash for the same reasons (but gender swapped) as the lesbian slashers/fujoshi? All of those very rational justifications are applied selectively, "for me for not for thee," and it all only leads to "idk I just don't wanna write femslash", for Reasons. Do we get to call them microaggressions yet?
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No, you don't get to call other people's fantasy life a microaggression.
That is indeed "for me but not for thee" in the sense that you get to want what you want but other people aren't supposed to follow their id.
Do you also police gay men who spend too much time on drag and obsessing over female divas? That's an actual real world behavior that's somewhat equivalent. It frequently goes unchallenged, at least by progressives, because men are allowed to do whatever they want with chick stuff, while women are "stealing" if they dare to stray into dude stuff.
(God, I've seen so much more policing of drag kings being ~problematic~ for acting out stereotypical gender than policing of drag queens for the same. It's nuts!)
Fujoshi are often queer, but it's absurd to think we're mostly lesbians. We tend to be bi or asexual women with gender stuff going on, though there is a mix of everybody, including lesbians. There are also a lot of AFAB non-women who get lumped in with us. On the rare occasions I find a man willing to admit to being a similar demographic, he usually does like gender play in his hobbies and entertainment. It's just that men face even more pressure than women do to fit into tidy categories. Bi women get told we're whores. Bi men are told they don't exist.
Yes, I know plenty of lesbians who write more m/m than f/f, but in the big picture of all of AO3 or all of fanfic or all of media, they aren't the demographic driving these numbers. They're vastly outnumbered by the bi women, the asexual women, and the straight and gnc women.
The men we should be looking at as an equivalent aren't cis gay men but bicurious soy boys and the like.
Do most of us fujoshi object to equivalent men doing an equivalent thing? I've seen it sometimes, and I agree it's hypocritical. I'd like us to afford men the same ability to play and take on identities in their art. I remember enjoying Ranma fandom back in the day and reading quite a lot of f/f that was probably by men. It had some of that same sense of distance and fantasy that I so enjoy in m/m aimed at fujoshi. (I do consume some by-cis-gay, for-cis-gay content, both m/m and f/f, but it's often too literal and too bound up in specific named identities for my taste.)
On average, the people I see complaining most about men producing f/f material are the same people who think that because I have a clit, I should center my life around women exclusively. In other words, people spouting radfem ideology, perhaps on purpose or perhaps without realizing.
I do agree that some of the ways of expressing a lack of desire to write femslash can get pretty douchey. I want us to move away from some of the less accurate ones like "There are no compelling female characters" because of this.
But the reason for all these jerkass explanations is that women and people perceived as women who like m/m are constantly asked to explain ourselves. These aren't usually microaggressions: they're openly hostile. People get defensive and try to answer with important-sounding reasons about identity and pain because society at large won't accept "I like this" as the true explanation.
Pleasure is never enough of a reason for a woman to do something.
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Game Design and Porn Pt. 1
or, How To Fuck Up The Best Intrinsic Reward Ever
Hi, I'm Leo G, veteran pervert. One time while chatting in a server exclusively made of porn artists, I brought up the game design of a porn game I enjoyed. One of them laughed, saying "Who cares, it's just a porn game?" Being unwell, I never let this go. Since then, I have played many adult games and took each one as serious products made by professionals. Fast forward to today, and the demo for my porn game, Joker's Trip, is nearing completion. I also have some sci-fi erotica you should check out.
So you wanna make a porn game. You heard they make money, and hey what’s more fun than making a video game AND porn? But you don’t know where to begin! Well don’t worry, Leo’s got you covered. We’re gonna walk through the line of thinking you should have when designing your porn game. There's gonna be at least three parts to this, with part 1 focusing on how to reward your player.
Define "porn game" for me, Leo.
There are porn games, and then games with porn in them. A porn game is a game where you won’t last 5 minutes, where everything exists solely to meet and, subsequently, fuck. A game with porn in it is a game where everything exists for the purpose of the game, and also, you fuck. Fate Stay Night, for example, is a VN with a story that just so happens to have some CGs where the protagonist rails Saber, but is mainly about Shirou and the Holy Grail War. Much like how I would call Castlevania a game with horror in it, but not a horror game.
Porn games are a lot like horror games. They both get a bad rap for being cheap to make, appealing to base instincts, and generally being low quality. They're also both not actual genres of games, but genres of content. Think about it, if I asked you what a horror game is, you'd say a game that's scary. But what's the actual game part? The unfortunate answer would most likely be "walking sim," but there are a lot of examples that are FPSes, puzzles, driving sims, platformers, deck builders, the list goes on.
The most common genres of game I see for porn games these days are by far RPG Maker RPGs and VNs. I won’t be talking about VNs because they’re closer to writing than game design, which isn’t a flaw but a feature. What used to be everywhere, in days of old, were breakout games, where the more bricks and levels were cleared, the more of the sexy image would be revealed in the background. Other arcadey type deals like shoot ‘em ups and mahjong were also around, and had a similar “strip ‘em down until you have sex” gameplay loop.
Okay, so what’s an intrinsic reward?
There’s intrinsic rewards, and there're extrinsic rewards. Extrinsic rewards, generally, are the number go up rewards. Things that make your character stronger, or give you more resources to buy new gear or whatever. Intrinsic rewards in games can cover a large swathe of things. It can be the feeling of satisfaction of completing a puzzle, a piece of lore or world building, or a new dialogue option with a character you want to fuck.
I like fucking characters, are we talking about porn now?
Yes! I’m of the opinion that you literally can’t make a better intrinsic reward than pornography. On top of setting the tone for the entirety of the game., at its best it can add to a story, add to someone’s character development, or be a beautiful piece of art to look at. AND you can jack off to it! Unfortunately, that’s at its best. Let’s talk about how porn is delivered in a theoretical RPG porn game. (As a head’s up, there will be talk of “bad end” scenes, but this is under the assumption that the player is the one consenting.)
So you’re playing an RPG and get into a fight. Maybe you were underleveled or too cumbrained to remember to buy healing potions. Then your HP goes to zero, and instead of going back to the title screen, you’re getting fucked by orcs. That’s right, let’s talk about Game Over CGs.
You get to watch porn when you lose?
To someone making a porn game with a battle system, this delivery method makes sense. The characters in this world are driven primarily by lust, this is just the obvious conclusion. And it doesn’t even have to be non-consensual! Games like Future Fragments show that it can be presented as a sexy inconvenience rather than anything uncomfortable for the player or our hero. Game Over CGs even have the benefit of softening the blow of defeat, by giving the player a chance to reflect on their defeat and jerk off. Even better if losing a fight isn’t lost progress, but rather a bump in the road. However, there’s a problem here. The player is a dog, and we’re rewarding bad behavior.
The porn is an intrinsic reward, so why are we giving it to the player for losing? Incentivizing losing on purpose isn’t just bad game design, but a waste of time. And to that end, a lot of porn games try to give solutions to this. One being a kill button on the keyboard or a skill that instantly KOs our hero to get to the lose screen faster. What might seem like a convenience is really just expediting failure.
What it says is that the gameplay doesn’t actually matter. You’re just here for the porn, right? In that case there’s plenty of places I can go to see a chick with huge knockers get railed by an orc, with the added bonus of not having to play forgettable and mid turn based combat!
Another solution I’ve seen is the game outright telling you, “hey don’t bother killing yourself to see the porn. Once you beat the game all of the scenes you missed will be unlocked!” At first this seems like a reasonable way to go about it, but it comes with another problem: your game better be fucking good to make me play through the entire thing before getting to see cock. Like I said earlier, porn at its best can reveal things about the world and drive character development. I uh. Just beat the game. I don’t care anymore. Showing me a scene that’s taken out of context by a factor of 5 hours or more isn’t what I’d call great game design or story telling. It’s also too little, too late.
What if we made the porn actual rewards?
Now we’re getting somewhere! Let’s make the reward…a reward! What if, every time the player beats a level, we get some porn? If we tie the CG to beating the boss, we’ll be tying the reward to game progression. That’s good right? So now, on top of the extrinsic rewards you’d normally get for beating a boss (a lot of EXP, better gear, opened areas) we also get that sweet dopamine rush of pornography! So we’re good, right?
There’s 1142 words left in this post, so I’m assuming no.
Well. It’s a start. It has the problem of predictability. If not handled properly, it comes off as lazy. As a game designer, one of your goals is to not constantly remind your player that they’re playing a video game. Get through the level, get porn. It feels a little too “mouse in a maze looking for cheese” for my taste. And much like the game over method, if the actual game itself is mid, the player will start to question if the reward is worth it, and might be afflicted with the worst condition a player could receive: boredom.
Of course there are exceptions. In puzzle or arcade type games where you don’t get extrinsic rewards, giving the player porn as another form of reward per level or whatever is perfectly reasonable (though it does have the issue of being predictable.) This is a perfectly good way of doing it if your game is short, or if the game is, y’know, good and fun to play. Bad Color’s game, Heroine Conquest, is a level based puzzle game with porn as the reward, but only when you do good. Combining the actual challenge of mastering the game, with a genuinely unique game loop makes for a feeling of accomplishment when beating a level. Pair that up with a sex cutscene, and the dopamine rush will hit.
So! Let’s combine giving the player a power trip, with a less rigid structure for giving the player porn. Instead of tying the porn to purely progression gates, let’s tie it to the progression.
Plot milestones
In Third Crisis, sex scenes are peppered throughout the regular game’s plot, starting with some lesbian bondage before introducing the protagonist, who goes through a tutorial before having their own horny encounters. It’s not just given when you win or lose, but is a natural part of the game. Beating bosses, losing to enemies, and exploring dialogue options in sidequests all lead to unlocking new CGs.
Now what’s nice about that, is that the sex isn’t placed somewhere extremely predictable. It isn’t just a reward for beating The Boss Of Forest Zone, Now Go To Ice Zone And Beat The Ice Boss For More Cock. Because that’s the biggest issue of predictable rewards, you know you’re not getting anything until that checkpoint, which will make the player weigh whether or not it’s even worth continuing. This is fine, again, for an arcade type game, not an RPG or adventure game. By sprinkling sex throughout the plot itself, the player will not only want to progress, but their curiosity will have them wondering “what else is out there?”
Rewarding exploration
By putting sex scenes behind optional side quests or encounters, the dog that is the player will scour every single corner of the map, and leave no pixel unturned. Personally, that’s more exciting to me than what you’ll get in the main progression route. In Future Fragments the player can find their rival Faye in sexual situations if they explore the map enough. These are completely optional, and don’t give any direct rewards like more HP or an item, but they’re by far what motivates me to explore the maps as thoroughly as possible, more so than the plot macguffins the game is named after!
So now the player is excited. Sex can happen anywhere. Maybe that daunting off road path with stronger monsters isn’t just hiding a secret, but a sexy secret! They’ll be more likely to venture down those optional paths you painstakingly made.
If we’re using sex in game overs, boss fights, and just randos, why not put it everywhere?
So now I want to talk about the concept of a “sex stat”. It’s not a bad idea! Say, the higher the player’s sex stat is, the more opportunities you unlock for fucking. It could even be tied to the player character’s personality, and affect the story! Instead of using a sword and shield, they’ll end any conflict with sass and sex. They open their eyes to the horny world around them and stop being a hero, and instead become a succubus, and the ending is a massive cum filled orgy.
That sounds excessive
Yeah, it does, doesn’t it.
I’m not a fan of “corruption” systems in porn games. Corruption as a kink is totally fine, and having it be a part of the story lets you incorporate more sexuality into the plot. But as I alluded to, it snowballs pretty fast (and I’m not talking about spitting in someone’s mouth). It ends up being like a cheat code, where you’re bypassing parts of the game for no cost. It stops being a reward, it stops being unexpected, and it stops it from being sexy.
Wait, what? Stops being sexy? What’s not sexy about a succubus orgy?
Alright, listen, we gotta rein it in for a minute. This isn’t so much about game design as it is about writing erotica, but if you have a world where everyone’s fucking and sucking 24/7, there’s no contrast to make what would normally be a hot taboo a hot taboo. If everybody’s naked, nobody’s naked. The aforementioned snowball effect of a corruption system can be seen if you play literally any game that has one. It won’t take long to not have to engage with any combat or adventuring system if you can just press the “Submit to the big dick warlock” button and watch porn to progress.
Which, now that I said that, is exactly the problem. Imagine any other rpg you’ve ever played. Now imagine if every encounter and dialogue option had an option to just watch a short cutscene to skip the encounter. That would suck ass, right? Literally no difference here.
It would. Hey, I’m sort of lost now.
Don’t worry, we’re wrapping this up.
So what did we learn? We learned game over CGs have a critical design flaw that shouldn’t be relied on. We learned that predictable rewards can lead to boredom. We learned to keep sex as a reward and not devalue it.
To summarize, here’s a neat trick to know where to put your porn scenes.
”Would I put an Xbox Live achievement here?”
It’s that easy. “Lose to Goblins for the first time,” that’s an achievement. “Beat orc commander,” that’s an achievement. “Find Hubert the Magical Dickhead,” that’s an achievement. Using that as a guideline is foolproof. Almost.
This sounds like it’d take a lot of resources
It sure does! But don’t worry. I’ll cover that in the next post talking all about how to deal with the resource management of a porn game.
(Shoutout to Taylor, my guy for editing!)
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Oh, boy! It's Education Theory o'Clock again!
...I have a lot of thoughts on this topic. At some point, when I'm less busy and tired, I should probably try to write them up. Natively, I'm one of the school-is-a-nightmare-prison people, like so many others in this little discourse-sphere -- but I'm married to a middle school teacher, so I regularly encounter both the good arguments from the other side and the facts on the ground, and those things have altered my perspective somewhat.
But I am, in fact, busy and tired. So for now I'll just content myself with saying:
School is an institution that serves many, many, many purposes at the same time. A lot of those purposes are load-bearingly important. (A couple of years ago, I wrote this about college, and...it's double-plus true for primary and secondary schools.) If you don't try to account for all of that stuff in your theory of What School Is and How School Works, you will generate incoherent garbage thoughts. If you have a New Concept for school entailing top-down design that is optimized for a single function (like "increasing test scores" or "causing kids to love learning" or whatever), you'd better have a plan for how you're going to do all the other important things that schools do. And even if you think that some of those things aren't actually important or necessary, you'd better have a plan for dealing with all the people who disagree. Because...
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...school, as it exists today, is an inherently political institution. Both in the "soft" sense that everyone has strong opinions about what it's supposed to do and how it's supposed to work, and in the "hard" sense that it is actually controlled by democratically-accountable governments. (This is double-plus true in the US, where it is controlled by local governments, and therefore doesn't even have the protective insulation of a massive bureaucracy.) Everything about the way schools work is a compromise brokered amongst ideologues and self-dealers. Everything about the way schools work involves a lot of decision-makers trying not to get yelled at by the yelliest people around. If you're looking for elegant purpose-driven top-down design, you won't find it. You could probably make a case that any elegant purpose-driven top-down design would be better than the thing we actually have, but getting there would require finding a way to remove the political element.
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Most importantly: public schools are (1) compulsory, (2) universal, and (3) for children. [People who are legally children, anyway, whether or not they are actual children in whatever sense matters to you.]
This means that they cannot let students leave, and they have to keep control of all the students that they aren't allowing to leave.
In the most literal not-a-judgment-but-a-fact sense, they are indeed prisons. They are coercively keeping people inside. They have to do that thing, as per their most fundamental mandate within the current system. The alternatives involve letting kids run around unsupervised, and/or failing to give some kids even the most cursory kind of education, and those things are absolute non-starters under present conditions.
All the normal institutions-for-adults operate on the principle of -- If you really don't want to be here, you can leave, and deal with whatever consequences there may be for leaving. This is not an option for schools, and that fact accounts for...everything.
Classroom structure is built around the necessity of keeping the most-hostile, least-engaged student in the class present and supervised, and then trying to prevent him from disrupting things for everyone else. Because the obvious solution that any other institution would use -- "just cut him loose, he doesn't want to be here and we don't want him here" -- isn't available.
(I once talked to my wife about the rationed bathroom access thing, which is one of the most flagrant nightmare-prison aspects of the school experience. Her response was, "If you let kids use the bathroom whenever they want, as much as they want, then you don't have mandatory universal education anymore. Some of them will never return to the classroom, because they don't want to be there." Which is...obviously true.)
So you have something that replicates many of the features of prison, because it has to accomplish the same basic tasks that prison accomplishes. Yay, Foucault.
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im gonna start a fight; and, at the same time, i need you to take this in the most good-faith way possible, but:
videos that involve body-checking and intentionally (and uncritically) show a mealplan of an unhealthy number of calories are just a revamped version of pro-ana food diaries.
and yeah, i know there's arguments. i address some of them under the cut. but at the end of the day, we're just coming back to romanticizing mental illness; we've just found a better platform for it.
this is already something we've done. we knew it was wrong and tried to stop it. and tbh. it just wasn't enough.
there are people who argue "well, what if you have an eating disorder, you can't help it if you don't eat!" except that as someone with an ED; we are not infants. we know what we're doing. part of having an ED is that you are like, maybe too self-aware. even if we can't help our own food choices, we don't need to fucking romanticize the disorder - something we've been warning you about since 2013. there are hours of setup, filming, and editing that go into these videos. they do not happen to fall into place randomly. there is a reason they are pieced together to be beautiful, bright, inspiring.
there's this woman who pretty much only posts daily plans under a normal amount of calories, and everyone defends her saying but it's better than nothing! and i'm like. except she opens those with images of her showing off her body and provides no context in the video or caption that suggests that she believes what she's doing is unhealthy. she has hundreds of thousands of followers on a platform designed for young kids and teens. i refuse to believe that by accident her content just happens to be cheery advice on "healthy" versions of starving.
for any other symptom of mental illness, we would be incredibly enraged by this kind of placid acceptance of a "tips and tricks" fast-start guide. imagine if people posted pink & pretty videos saying "best places to cut yourself" as if it was a fucking storytime. we, as a society, are so fucking fatphobic that we would rather accept blatantly harmful displays of self harm than admit that we are obsessed with a hyper-thin body type.
i am not suggesting someone never talks about their disorder. i talk about mine. actually, it's a plot point in my book.
here's the difference: i recognize it's a fucking mental illness. i am very careful to never mention a specific weight, eating pattern, or calorie plan. i always make sure to position it as something that ruined my fucking life. i do not put cheery music in the background and hearts and sparkles over my worst moments. i do not film it in bright light. i do not start each passage with an image of a thin body followed by "here's how to look like her."
eating disorders should not be framed as aspirational. and the problem is that society worships the "after" image, so long as you don't get too sick. there is a reason so many people who quit being "influencers" will later admit - i wasn't eating well that whole time; an obsession with food was completely destroying my life.
we let any uncredited, uncertified person write the most backwards, fucked up shit about how to get the body you desire! because the underlying, secret belief is: well, at least they're thin! and the real thing that fucking gets me each time - they make fucking money off of it. their irresponsibility and societal harm literally pays off for them.
"why do you care so much." "don't like it don't look." "so what if people experiment with new ways of thinking of food?"
thank you for asking. we're about to get extremely personal. it's because when i was 18 i discovered "thinspiration"/"thinspo." and it absolutely influenced, shaped, and codified my pre-existing eating disorder. i went from having some troubling habits and traits to being incredibly unwell within what felt like a matter of days. there were actual pages designed to train me on how to have an ED correctly. it was all so suddenly easy. i was sick; and the nature of the illness meant - i wanted to be sicker.
it takes an average of 7 years for a person to fully recover. i know this personally - even now, 10 years from the worst of it, i still fucking struggle. i am so much happier now and i eat what i want and i literally don't think about food at all (19 year old me would shudder) and yet - i still fucking know the calories of plain toast with butter.
an eating disorder is one of the deadliest types of mental illness. over 1 in 4 people with an ED will attempt suicide.
and i'm sorry. i just do not see the exchange rate of "high rate of engagement" versus "the value of a human life."
#and there's something else in there about like ....#tbh once i got over something like 1k followers#i stopped being specific about my ED for a REASON.#yes on ur personal locked blog that u use like a diary go ahead etc#but we are OBVIOUSLY not talking about that. we're talking about the sheer NUMBER of people i could be talking about#in that one paragraph. that you and i probably were thinking about 2 different influencers#bc they get to say that they're just posting FITNESS and if it's FITNESS it's OKAY and im like#jesus christ lord almighty#every person in recovery from an ED: this is incredibly dangerous holy shit do you know how much this would have triggered me#each of these ppl: how dare you!!!!!!!!! i am only harming those who WANT to engage with my content!!!!!#their followers: leave them alone !!! they can't help that they make an hours-long choice to frame their disorder as if it was#fucking cottagecore !!!!#like girlie this person needs THERAPY#again! i didn't even have that large of a following before i IMMEDIATELY deleted any specific mention of calories food etc#bc i recognize responsibility and i didnt EVER want to even ACCIDENTALLY encourage this#and im not even GETTING PAID FOR THIS!!!#aND THEY ARE!!!#something something something they know this content makes them money#they don't give a SHIT about u babe
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Honestly if any Dungeon Meshi character deserved an expanded role in the series, it should have been Rin. She's the character to me who most feels like her story is incomplete and glossed over...probably the one instance where the manga actually frustrated me with its refusal to engage with her as a character in favor of Kabru.
I mean, the backstory Kui gives her in the extra content is, like all of them, really well thought out, but in the manga itself a lot of the time she kind of just exists as an accessory to Kabru? Like, she's the Girl who Likes Kabru to Establish that Girls Like Kabru...there's a couple moments in the manga where we see hints of a deeper character, but most of her story is relegated to the extra content...which sucks because I think her role in the story and especially her history with the elves is so incredibly important to understanding the wider world.
Because we mostly learn about the elves through the eyes of Kabru, and while Kabru didn't have a great experience with the elves for sure, he was doted on, a golden child. We do learn that Rin was treated terribly by the elves in the manga, but again, we learn it through Kabru's words and it's not really something that's focused on. I think Kabru has genuinely good intentions and cares a lot about humanity, but unconsciously he has a tendency to treat people like pawns in a similar way that the elves do; part of his character arc is learning to be actually genuine with people, but that only actually happens once he's separated from the rest of his party, with people he barely knows. It makes sense for him and the place he's at, but I can't imagine how frustrating that must have been for Rin, who doesn't really have anyone else. She's trapped in an unresolved character arc, left in this limbo space of chasing after someone who just doesn't have the same reliance on her that she has on him.
If I were writing the manga, I would have made her a character of equal importance to Kabru. Rin would balance out his role in the story...she's more pessimistic than him, for good reason, and despite or maybe because of the ease in which he traverses the social and political worlds, in many ways I think she understands the world better than him. I want to see the world from her perspective, to learn more about what her view of the dungeon is and why she's supporting Kabru in his quest to become the next dungeon lord, to see her grapple with her trauma, for her to have to learn to lead the party when Kabru isn't there, for her to come into her own as a character. I also feel like she just would fill out the main cast in a really satisfying way...she could easily be a narrative foil for so many characters, Kabru obviously, but also Marcille, Izutsumi (God, think about the potential interaction between Rin and Izutsumi), Thistle maybe, there's probably more if I spent more time thinking about it
Also kind of going on a tangent here but she's sooo ignored on the fandom side. Frankly I think that whatever Rin and Kabru have going on is just as interesting if not more so than the relationships between Kabru and Laios and between Kabru and Mithrun, but I don't think I've seen a single post or art piece on this website where she's present in his life at all (or even not present in an intentional way that would serve her character.) To be clear I'm not saying that I ship them or whatever (kind of hate that word tbh) or think they should end up in a romantic relationship (I really do not think they should end up in a romantic relationship). But like. Come on. They're so important to each other's characters and she can't just be written out of his story.
#second choice for character I think deserved more time is yaad#rin dungeon meshi#rinsha fana#kabru of utaya#rinsha you deserve the world I would treat you better than him#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi spoilers#dungeon meshi meta#dunmeshi
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boob windows. that's it that's the fic
word count: 1.1K
content warnings: this is meant to be yandere au and sagau/self aware au so uh. hint of that, but mostly just crack. nothing Super Nsfw but the whole thing is raunchy and suggestive humour
characters included: mostly ei, but childe, kaeya and briefly zhongli also make an appearance with some others mentioned
a/n: this is a repost (slightly edited)! this was on my to-edit-&-repost list for a while now and this seemed like a good day to do so lol. alas this was originally written before the sumeru release so while editing there wasn't really an opportunity for me to add in wriothesley apparently out-butting zhongli or lyney's tigh high garters and i only just realised kaveh could technically also count here so uh. forgive me. i'll write something for them some day
"is… is everything alright, your grace?"
you loudly suck up another boba pearl, not moving your gaze from where it’s been lodged the past several minutes. "mm, everything’s fine."
ei fidgets in front of you, the cup held tightly in her hands still almost full. she looks unsure, but decides that she knows better than to question you. "if you say so."
it’s clear this isn’t what she had in mind when she personally came to see you instead of sending the raiden shōgun to greet and attend to you. the one time she comes out of her plane, all you’re seemingly doing is ignoring all table manners and gawking at her chest.
yes, that’s right, you’re ogling her chest. or, more accurately, you’re ogling her tiddy window.
between her and kaeya, she’s showing off much more chest. but then kaeya knows what he’s doing, while ei just seems to have it there for convenience over aesthetic…
you squint at her while you get lost in thoughts, and ei’s fidgeting intensifies.
ah shit. you forgot about itto. he wins in terms of who shows off their chest the most, you guess. he’s even wearing that… you’re not sure what to call it but tit belt fits well enough. anyway, the tit belt accentuates his pecs very, very nicely, although they do hide his nips from sight. alas.
you suppose gorou and cyno also exist, but they don’t have the same appeal. oh, and navia and la signora, but both of them are just wearing a sleeveless, collarless dress, so you’re not sure that counts either.
but then by that argument, does itto count? he’s not even wearing a shirt. cyno isn’t wearing a shirt either. and what gorou has is more of a tummy window than anything… but he does have that little window?
between gorou and childe, gorou is definitely winning though. you’d apologise for slandering your poor ajax but between the little triangle he shows off and gorou’s entire tummy out… you’re not sorry. though… there’s something to be said about a small slither of skin inviting you to stick your hands into that gorou having his whole tummy out doesn’t have.
wait, wait. you just had a genius idea. actually, two.
first of all, zhongli with a tiddy window… you are considering. then again, you guess his biggest asset is his bubble butt.
second, and way bigger: an idol group with some of your characters… but they all have tiddy windows.
"…your grace?"
you’re brought out of your stupor by ei, who is gazing in concern at you. you blink at her.
she struggles to find words. "are… are you sure everything is alright? is something not to your liking?"
it’s then that you realise you’ve started drooling at some point. shit.
you hurriedly wipe at it and clear your throat. "yeah, I’m sure. sorry, were you saying anything?"
she looks taken aback. "no, please don’t apologise. I should be the one to… I shouldn’t have interrupted your thinking."
it’s then that childe happens to walk by, and, like the attention hog he is, tries to get a foot into the conversation. you stay mostly unresponsive while the two chat (which seems to be mostly childe trying to hold a conversation with you while ei admonishes him), your eyes drifting back to ei’s tiddy window.
you really could stare at that for the rest of your life.
childe then follows your line of sight and chokes.
…though more because of him trying to laugh while choking on the dango he was eating than embarrassment at having caught onto your very appropriate thoughts.
ei looks confused but makes no move to help him other than pushing his head away from the table so he doesn’t make a mess. you honestly can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed.
he finally manages to swallow properly (you almost want to pat him on the back and praise him for swallowing like a good boy) before turning to you.
"do you want me to strip? my chest looks much nicer, I assure you."
you and ei stare at him.
he raises his eyebrows, pointing at her. "her skin looks way too soft and pampered." she looks almost offended. "mine’s covered in scars and I have actual muscles, doesn’t that feel much better for fondling?"
"what if…" you lean closer to him mischievously, like you’re about to tell him some big secret. "I prefer soft chests?"
he deflates. ei flushes, ducking her head into her still-near-full cup of bubble tea. "well, if that’s what you prefer… I can’t get rid of the scars, but I can stop working out. hmm…" he looks like he’s starting to make serious plans.
"no, I honestly don’t really care. all tiddy is good tiddy." you clap your hands. "anyway! it’s more about the boob window. you already have a (sad) tummy window, so it wouldn’t work."
"why not? wouldn’t that be double the sexy?"
"no, it cancels out."
you’re going to ignore whatever gorou has going on, because that works pretty well.
ei looks unfathomably lost.
"and anyway, if we’re talking about tummy windows, gorou wins."
he deflates further.
then he perks up.
"what about…" he brings his fingers to his face. you think it’s an attempt at looking cool. "butt window?"
you deadpan. "have fun getting arrested for public indecency."
he winks at you. "I wouldn’t mind getting arrested if you’re the one punishing me."
you have to physically hold the electro archon back.
"why, I wasn’t expecting to run into any of you here. what are you three up to?" kaeya’s voice cuts through ei’s snarls all of a sudden. he seems amused, but there’s an edge in the way he eyes childe.
"I am definitely sexier than any archon or soldier," childe says at the exact same time that you say "we’re discussing tiddy windows."
kaeya lets out something between a snort and a chuckle. it’s a pretty sound, but you can’t let yourself be distracted by him. he knows what he’s doing.
"oh? in that department, don’t I win?"
you stare intently at his.
"do you want to touch?"
you move your stare to his face. "am I allowed to?"
he smiles, mirth in his eye. "you needn’t ask. all of me belongs to you, and that includes my chest."
you seriously consider it and childe takes the opportunity to shove himself between the two of you.
"wait, wait! I offered first! ignore him, I’m right here!"
"your grace," ei cuts in, "if you’d like to, I don’t mind you touching any part of me."
"ugh, fine, fine! I’ll just sample all of you then. if you’re sure you’re okay with it."
zhongli, somehow, picks the absolute worst moment to walk in.
the look on his face is priceless (you can’t tell if he looks offended or jealous), but even that doesn’t compare to the feeling of soft tiddy in your hands.
you were right, tiddy windows really are the best.
#yandere#yandere x reader#x reader#genshin impact#yandere genshin impact#self aware au#self aware genshin#not sfw#lime#realistically ei probably WOULD have muscles (if not more than him) but. 1. none of the nonhuman characters in this game look like#they have an appropriate amount of muscle#and 2. the shogun is a puppet that presumably doesn't have actual muscles in the same sense as humans do in the first place. so.#i THINK this was supposed to take place in your teapot (hence why everyone is there despite logistics) but imagine whatever you want
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May I request Yae Miko, Dehya, Cyno and Childe getting defensive/angry/protective (whatever you see fit) about someone saying they deserve better then their s/o because they aren't in the best physical shape? (Be that being fat, disabled ect.)
Honestly? It felt so self indulgent writing some of this, especially Dehya's part, so thank you for requesting it<3
Also, since I'm writing about some conditions I'm not affected with, please let me know if I missrepresent any of it, and I'll immediately change it!
Characters Included: Cyno; Dehya; Childe
Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; various conditions on reader: being deaf/overweight/in a wheelchair; mean comments being made by others; characters defending reader; does that count as comfort??; not proofread yet
Word count: 1,6k words
Enjoy<3
Cyno
being deaf was never the handicap to you as others would probably see it
of course, it was difficult, learning to interact with the world and the people around you when you could not hear any of it, but rather than seeing it as a hindrance, you saw it as a challenge, one that you were determined to overcome
now, as an adult, things were going pretty well for you. Most the people you often interact with know about your condition, so they tend to be more patient when conversing with you
growing up, you began learning sign language to communicate with the people around you, as well as reading their lips. Over the years, you got more and more fluent in the language, so this was working out pretty well for you
Cyno, upon first meeting you, was fascinated by the way you percieve and interact with the world
despite the fact that you were not able to hear anything at all, you were the most lively person he's ever met, always smiling and laughing at everything and everyone around you, always seeing the good
after first meeting you, he immediately went and started to learn sign language as well. He had this desire to be close to you and spend more time with you, and he thought, in order to better communicate with you, he should learn how to talk to you
Now, a few years later, you've been in a relationship with Cyno for quite some time, and he could honestly say, that he's never been happier in his life
you brighten each of his days, simply by existing within his proximity, your smile was contagious and he often found himself just staring at you, never getting tired of your beauty
however, sometimes, there tend to be voices that question the relationship you have. Mostly people who didn't know you all that well, asking Cyno how he could even be with someone who could not hear a word he said
While he did pity those people, he always jumped to defend you. You may not be able to hear, but that didn't mean you were any less than anyone else in this world. In his eyes, it's just another thing about you that made you unique
It was always like this. Whenever anyone was talking bad about you, or telling Cyno that he should find a better partner, he always defended you, claiming that there would never be someone better than you
and if those idiotic people still don't get it by the lovestruck way he talks about you and continue to pester him, Cyno can get annoyed very quickly, not hesitating to draw his weapon on them
he wouldn't actually fight them, but the possibility of it being there scared them enough to run with their tails between their legs
but, at the end of the day, he never tells you about those encounters he has, not wanting to bring down your mood with it. He'd much rather enjoy the stories you have to tell him each day when he comes home to you
Dehya
when people were thinking about Dehya, they thought of a strong, independent woman, beautiful, smart and capable of many things. They respected her, and many wished to become the person by her side
when rumors came about of Dehya having a partner, people began to talk among themselves, guessing on who it could possibly be and what they would look like
No doubt would someone like her only settle for a partner just as good looking, smart and strong as herself, right?
well.. let's just say, the day you and Dehya became public with your relationship was a very... tough one
People knew you as being one of the most trusted merchants of Caravan Ribat. And while they all agreed on you being a very likeable and easygoing person, many of them also made fun of you behind your back, for the simple fact of you being overweight
a fact that you had always struggled with since your childhood. You've tried a many great ways to loose weight, yet either nothing worked or only had very short lived success
eventually, you gave up hope and stopped trying, instead learning to love and accept yourself for who you are
And exactly that love you held for yourself is what drew Dehya to you in the first place, eventually falling in love with all of you. Sometimes, you yourself couldn't believe that she actually loved you, questioning how you got so lucky. But not like you were complaining about it
Still, the glances and whispers people threw your way when you were walking through the streets, hand in hand with Dehya, often brought you down, knowing exactly what they were talking about
but anytime that happened, Dehya jumped right in, telling those people off, yelling at them to mind their own damn business. And it always worked as they hurried away, afraid of her wrath coming their way
whenever this happened, she'd always comfort you afterwards, knowing that, despite everything, words like that still hurt and weighed down on you. She'd then always tell you how much she loved you, how beautiful you were to her, pointing out everything she loved about you. It always helped to brighten your mood again
then one day, it just so happened that while you were out on a date with Dehya, someone decided to be bold and walk up to Dehya, finally speaking out loud what everyone was thinking
"Dehya.. why exactly are you with them?", he would ask, voice timid and quiet, yet he just had to ask
"You got a problem with my choice in parner, huh?", Dehya spoke up, ready to defend you against the entire world if she had to. She stood up from her place, standing in front of the guy as it almost seemed like she got ready for a fist fight
"N-no! I just meant... they don't.. exactly... suit you..", the guy tried to argue, but realised that with every word, he was just more and more digging his own grave
at this point, Dehya was fed up. She did not care for any onlookers as she beat up the guy. Once he was on the ground and apologizing profusely to her, she let go of him, instead addressing the crowd that had gathered around them
"Okay, everyone listen up because I'm not gonna repeat myself after this! They are my parnter, and I do not care what any of you think or have to say about it. It's my choice and you all better shut up about it, or I'll beat you up just like I did this punk!", she yelled and pointed at the guy still on the ground, blood running from his nose and mouth. Pretty sure she made him loose a teeth or two
surprisingly, after this encounter, people stopped commenting behind your back, your days becoming much calmer and more enjoyable since than. And even if you might not agree with Dehya's actions, you couldn't deny that it did have a positive outcome
Childe
most people would suspect that a person as active in their day to day life as Childe, would want a parnter that is at least similar to them in that way
yet, when they find out that his significant other is actually disabled and in a wheelchair, they can't hide the surprised sounds and expression on their faces
they can't possibly imagine how a relationship like that would last very long, seeing as the two of you would be polar opposites
oh boy, would they be surprised to find out that you and Childe have been going strong for several years now. Sure, you were not able to walk and sometimes, in specific situations, dependent on him, but those are also the moments Childe loved, when he got to show his strength when lifting you up or doing something else for you
at first, you felt stupid for having to rely on him in those specific situations, since you always strived to be as independent as possible, despite your situation. Yet Childe always comforted you, telling you that it wasn't a weakness at all to ask for help every now and then. On the contrary, knowing when you need help can be a great strength. So, that's how you decided to see things from then on, and it did help you a lot
and even though you were bound to this chair, that did not stop the enjoyment you held towards life. You loved traveling around, exploring the world and expieriencing it first hand
it helped a lot that Childe got to travel around a lot thanks to his work, so you'd always ask to accompany him. Of course, there were times where he couldn't do so, but most of the time, he was happy to take you along and show you all the places he knows about, and even discovering new ones with you
whenever he couldn't take you along on his travels, he'd always come back with a tone of souvenirs for you, along with so many stories to tell you that never failed to grab your attention, wishing that you could have been there with him
overall a very good, very protective boyfriend
the first few times he heard people talking about the two of you behind your backs, he went over to them, drawing his weapons, ready to kill whoever dared talk bad about you in his presence
word spread around quickly and soon, no one dared even mutter a word about your relationship, in fear that the Harbinger might catch wind of it and came hunting after them, ready to take their lives
Childe did not mind that reputation at all. He was already known as a battlehungry maniac, and if it meant people left you alone, not having to worry about ill intended comments, than all the better. He can handle it
the most important thing to him is, and always will be, your well being
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact headcanons#genshin headcanons#genshin x reader headcanons#genshin impact x reader headcanons#cyno x reader#cyno x you#cyno headcanons#cyno x reader headcanons#dehya x reader#dehya x you#dehya headcanons#dehya x reader headcanons#childe x reader#childe x you#childe headcanons#childe x reader headcanons
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how do you know when you're getting good at poetry? everybody dunks on halsey and rupi kaur's poetry, and i never really got why and idk if that's what i sound like
Honestly, I don't think there's ever a point at which you "know" you're getting good at poetry--I think "good" and "bad" are kind of vague and amorphous (and distracting) categories that don't do much in helping us understand the feel and impact of certain writing, chiefly because they can also be deeply subjective. How a poet views a particular work and how a reader views it will be very, very different because their relationship to the work is different. I also think "good" is a sort of external category that does not (or should not) carry into the act of writing itself--when you make "is this good?" the chief consideration as you write, you're not actually present in the writing: you're focused on the finished product, not the process, but the process is the most important thing: that's where the poem actually meets you. I think growth, in writing, is less about knowing if you're "good" in this regard, and more about being able to have confidence, or simply just trust, in the writing as it happens.
There's a famous saying somewhere that a work of literature is never "finished"--it just stops. I think skill, when it comes to writing, lies in recognising where this point is, in learning and developing how you navigate what it is you want to say, and how you say it. Some poems, eventually, reach a point where you can take them no further and you know there is nothing more to be said in them or through them. Some poems reach a point where you can take them no further, but there is still something left to be said in them. Those poems get revisited, worked, and reworked again, until they (maybe) get close to the first category: this may mean you work on them for a few weeks, or for years--but either way you are prioritizing the process of making the poem, not how it will be received. "Is this a good poem?" in my view at least, is not really the relevant question--what's relevant is "is this true to what I wanted to say?" Leonard Cohen famously wrote over 100 drafts of "Hallelujah"--I don't know if the central question for him here was just a matter of his skills as a songwriter.
Regarding Halsey and Rupi Kaur, I've only been able to read Halsey's poems through previews on Google Books so I don't know what other people's critiques are--based on what I saw, though, I don't know if it makes sense to criticize their quality as "poems" when she is primarily a songwriter and a lot of those poems wound up as songs. I'm more familiar with Rupi Kaur's writing, though, and others like her (Atticus, Michael Faudet etc), and while I have a personal policy of not getting into Kaur online (there's an ask here which is about as much as I'm willing to say regarding my feelings on her writing)--I can get into this trend or poetry "style" as a whole. And to be honest I think the chief issue here with poetry like this is that poetry, by definition, involves a deep and intimate relationship with language: this holds true regardless of whether the poem is simple, or complex, whether it's 5 lines long or goes on for 50 pages. As I said in that previous ask, it's not something you can reduce to a formula, nor is it a matter of mere reportage or a collection of statements: what makes a poem has nothing to do with line breaks (prose poems exist), but everything to do with how the language moves, how the language of a poem engages with its own content, with itself, and, as a result, with the reader.
The kind of work that proliferates on Instagram does not have that kind of engagement with language--they are, to me, pieces of information more than anything else. They reduce language to a series of stock phrases that act, not as actual words, but as images (and I don't mean this in a visually evocative way). It tries to evoke something that requires a thoughtful and sustained examination in order to be expressed, by surpassing the reality of what that examination actually requires. It tries to ape the effect of a powerful poem without the work that goes into actually being able to make that kind of a poem in the first place: and that work is a sustained encounter and confrontation with the language used and its relationship to what it tries to convey, in understanding that words are not interchangeable blocks you move around willy-nilly but that they have weight and intention, that they interact with each other to build up an idea or a feeling or a landscape in the most accessible way (insofar as language can make anything accessible, at least). But this is rarely, if ever, felt in IG poetry because it refuses to recognize or respect the demands and requirements of the medium it uses.
And because it is lacking in this engagement and recognition, these poems are also, for the most part, lacking sincerity--and this, to me, is one of the most crucial things when it comes to writing. I recall one IG poet whose work was in the same class as someone like Atticus, but I also recall one of his poems which genuinely moved me--and it moved me because, unlike everything else on his account, that poem felt sincere: the structure and the language wasn't any different to anything else he wrote, but in reading it, it was not a question for me of whether it was "bad" or "good"--what made the impact was that it was honest: and the difference showed. You can't come into a poem with ulterior motives. You can't come into it without an understanding, or respect, for the language you use. I'm absolutely not policing what people should or shouldn't read, and I'm not saying people are wrong for liking these poems, either, or that Halsey, Kaur, Atticus et al., are wrong for writing them. Expression is expression, and what speaks to you speaks to you. And to be honest, it is a different kettle of fish when you are writing something purely for yourself (and I think allowing yourself to partake in any kind of artform, without worrying about needing to be good at it, is deeply important for the human spirit)--but because they are putting their work out publicly, if we are going to be evaluating what they write and how they write it, that evaluation has to be rooted in an understanding of the art form they intend their work to be a part of.
For me, these are the main issues I have with these writers and their work and why I just do not like them. But I also want to stress that, ultimately, what you sound like in your own poems, anon, does not matter as much as being sincere to yourself does. As I said, I don' like using terms like "good" and "bad" and I think that often they're fairly reductive (and sometimes outright pointless) categories to use when we talk about and assess poetry--more than anything else, the key to building a robust and informed discernment when it comes to poems is to simply just read--read a lot of it and read widely. The broader and richer your repository of poetry (and literature in general) is, the more informed you are when it comes to all the different ways language can move through a poem, and all the different impacts it can have as a result. It deepens and enriches your understanding of all the different ways of looking at something, questioning something, expressing something. Your vocabularly grows and deepens; your net of associations--visual, linguistic etc--strengthens. And when this understanding grows you are able to place the things you read into a much wider and far more informed context. And this in turn allows you to grow as a reader and a writer. I hope this helps you a little, anon 💕
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and in the end, it's you
cyno swears he hates you.
(but the race of his heart says otherwise.)
cyno ♡ gn!reader
warnings: cyno is in denial, smitten cyno muehehe, scholar cyno
note: happy holidays to those who celebrate!!! also this is my first time writing enemies to lovers so im sorry if it isn't actually enemies to lovers 😭😢
gift for @1eaf-me-alone !! i hope you enjoy <3
Cyno hates the way you act like you know everything.
He hates the way you talk, the way you laugh. He hates the way you do the bare minimum, the way you excel even if you don’t mean to. He hates the way stars glimmer in your eyes whenever you talk about mindless, unimportant things that mean so much (to you) in the moment, yet nothing at all in reality.
Cyno hates you. Nothing more, nothing less.
“But why?” one of his classmates asks with an incredulous look. “I think they’re pretty funny.”
Instinctively, Cyno’s expression sours, his lips forming a prominent frown. “Yeah, right. You just don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
“Them,”—Cyno doesn’t even want to say your name—“they’re just, just insufferable!”
It’s not like him to get so emotional over trivial matters, but Cyno can’t help it. When it comes to you, he always gets upset, always acts unlike himself. He supposes that’s another reason why he doesn’t like you; you have a way of pissing him off, even if you don’t realize it.
“‘Cause they don’t care about school?” his classmate asks, struggling to understand Cyno’s frustration. “It’s not really our business, though…”
Cyno rolls his eyes, his hands slamming on the desk before standing up. “I’m going to the library.”
“Alright…?”
As a scholar, Cyno believes that everything in the world has an explanation. He believes that knowledge must be sought, that reason will always triumph over fantasy. He also believes that, in order to succeed in life, one must work hard, that they should cultivate their talents in order to use them.
You defy all known standards of Cyno’s life. Your talent overpowers everything, leaving people like him in the dust. Even if you hardly try, you always succeed—and that makes him the most upset. Why them, of all people? Cyno wonders, his eyebrows furrowing as he walks towards the library. What did they ever do to deserve such talent?
Cyno hates the way you treat the Akademiya as a game. He hates the way you break records, the way you make revelations with the mere flick of your finger. He hates the way the world changes at your will, the way you bring even him—a man with strong resolve—to his knees, questioning everything he’s ever known.
What is he, if not for logic? What is he, if not for the very standards he bases his life upon? You defy all known rules of Cyno’s life, and in doing so, you destroy his very being, his very essence. What is he now? What is he in your existence?
With a heavy heart, Cyno pushes the doors to the library open, wincing at the bright light that engulfs his world. The windows are blinding, his hand coming up to block his eyes as he observes the seemingly empty room, shocked at how few people there are.
He finds you in the center of it all. In the spotlight of the world, you sit with your figure slumped into a chair, your head buried in your arms as a few picture books are propped up around you. Cyno doesn’t know how to feel when he sees your sleeping face, your fluttering lashes and your content countenance. He doesn’t know how to feel in the silence, in the absence of everything that makes you annoying (at least, to him).
Oh, is all he thinks. Oh.
For a brief moment, the furrow of his brows ease, the frown tugging at his lips loosening. For a brief moment, Cyno’s shoulders relax, his expression becoming blank as he stares at you for a few seconds longer than he should. Cyno stares at you, unsure of what to make of himself, unsure of what to do with himself.
So he ignores you, placing the image of you sleeping soundly into the depths of his mind, never to be touched on again. Cyno walks past your form, swallowing the lump in his throat as he runs a hand through his hair. His hand comes up to the collar of his cloak, tugging at it awkwardly in an attempt to quell his thoughts. He feels something stutter in his chest. He wonders if it’s from stress.
It’s not stress, a part of him says, it’s because of… Cyno suppresses these thoughts with a quick swipe against his chest, his thumb pressing against the left side of his torso as he feigns ignorance to the quickening thump-thump, thump-thump that reverberates throughout his being.
Cyno refuses to accept whatever his subconscious tells him. Because reason triumphs over fantasy, because logic is the foundation of this world.
It’s not because of them, Cyno tells himself. Never.
Cyno hates you. Nothing more, nothing less.
(But it’s tough to hate you when you look so serene, so peaceful. It’s tough to hate you when, even in your sleep, that smile takes over your lips, leaving him wondering what you’re dreaming of. It’s tough to hate you when his heart stutters, hurts at the mere sight of you.)
Subconsciously, Cyno’s gaze drifts from the various titles lining the shelves. His hands fall limp as he stares through the crevices of the books, his eyes finding you—again—as you bask under the lamplight. He observes you, noticing how your brows furrow ever-so slightly, noticing how you hum something akin to the tune of your favorite song.
(How does Cyno know what your favorite song is? How does he know its tune?)
Tearing his gaze away, Cyno takes a random book from the shelves, not bothering to look at its title. He forces his way through his instincts, refusing to spare you another glance.
“What a good pick,” the librarian muses, checking out the scholar’s book. “I didn’t know you read things like this, Cyno.”
Only then does he read the novel’s title: I got reincarnated as the villainess in a novel I hate?! His eyes widen, embarrassment overwhelming his features as he averts his gaze from the amused librarian.
“I… I don’t,” he replies. But they do. Again, his heart stutters at the thought. And again, Cyno ignores it.
(Why does he know what type of novels you read?)
With a regretful expression, the scholar begrudgingly takes the book. He hides it in his cloak, rushing past your still-sleeping figure as he swears, swears he won’t look at you again.
He breaks his short-lived promise the moment his eyes find your face, tracing over the curl of your lips and the bridge of your nose. Cyno berates himself, shrinking into his hood as he questions why he keeps doing this: breaking his promises, staring at you, perceiving you.
A part of him knows the reason why. But Cyno ignores the race of his heart and the flutters in his stomach. He ignores everything and anything when it comes to you, the bane of his existence.
He ignores it until he can’t. Until he’s face-to-face with you, trying his best to tear his gaze away.
“So here’s how it’s gonna go,” you say, pointing at the paper assignment. “You do the researching, I do the presenting.”
Cyno wrinkles his nose. “Who are you to tell me what to do?”
“A genius,” you reply. “Duh.”
Ugh, Cyno thinks, rolling his eyes. Your arrogance makes him upset. Cyno hates the way you act, the way your pride is insufferable and the way you think you own the world.
(You do. You do own the world. His world.)
Working with you in a group project may be the worst punishment of them all. But, even as you command him (like the tyrant you are) he can’t bring himself to look away, to let his gaze stray from the glimmer in your eyes and the movement of your lips. Cyno can’t help but observe you, analyze you, scrutinize you for the tiniest traits, picking you apart while swearing he hates you.
He ignores the way you flip haphazardly through picture books, paying no mind to his deathly glare. You have a knack for pissing Cyno off; not only do you order him around, you also linger around him like some sort of fly.
“Can you go away?” he asks, but it comes off more like a statement. Cyno’s words are clipped and to the point, his eyes narrowing as he stares at you with a deadpan expression. “You’re bothering me.”
You smile innocently. “I’m just reading, though?”
“Go read somewhere else,” he retorts. “I can’t study when you’re around.”
“I have to supervise you, though,” you say with a shrug. “What if you doze off?”
That’s what you do, though, Cyno thinks with a frown. When you’re around, his hands become clammy and his thoughts become blurred. When you’re around, Cyno can’t think straight, he can’t do things that are so normal, so mundane. When you’re around, you mess up the continuous, familiar process of his life, the parts of him that he cherishes most.
“I won’t,” he quips. “Now go away.”
A teasing grin replaces your carefree smile, your gaze focusing on his as Cyno feels his voice die in his throat. His breath hitches, falling slack as he becomes the center of your gaze, the subject of your attention.
(He’s yours. All yours.)
“Right,” you respond sarcastically, not taking his words to heart. Your eyes linger on him for a second more before returning to your picture book, not paying any mind to Cyno’s mindless tapping on the desk. He says nothing, yet his breath finally escapes, his hands brushing against the fabric of his cloak as he fiddles with the cotton.
Your mouth opens to speak, and Cyno already knows what you’re going to say.
Just trust me on this.
“Just trust me on this.”
(How does he know?)
With one hand, Cyno brings the collar of his cloak up to his mouth, covering his lips as the tiniest of smiles creep onto his face.
(How could he not?)
#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin#genshin impact x reader#cyno x reader#cyno#genshin cyno#genshin x you#genshin x y/n#genshin x gender neutral reader#genshin cyno x reader
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Орлёнок Demo Release
Finally, the demo is here! It's not exactly January anymore, but better late than never, right?
You can play it right here!
I also made a post on the CoG forums, if you want to check it out: Link
Features include:
Meeting your family! And getting bullied.
Getting executed!
Rising from the dead!
Celebrating life by slaughtering some rebels!
(Being extremely miserable!)
Feedback:
This is, quite obviously, a work in progress. It is made available so that you, the reader, can give feedback that improves the game.
So, while you can - and should - obviously tell me whatever you want, a specific list of what I need most in terms of feedback can be found here:
Language. English is not my first language (actually, not even my second one), and I mostly read non-fiction academic works when I read in English, so my writing is certainly not at the level it should be. If you have any concrete issues, please tell me, and I'll try to learn how it can be improved.
Spelling. I don't expect much in the way of outright errors, but I do know that I mix up British and American English all the time. The intended style is American English, so please point out spellings that are wrong in that regard.
Inconsistencies. There are a lot of variations between scenes, and I'd like to make the story as immersive as possible; so, if a phrasing, a character's behaviour etc. feel like they don't fit into the choices you previously made, please tell me. In detail, if possible, otherwise I won't be able to amend it.
Sensory descriptions. AuDHD makes my brain process sensations, including visual impressions, very differently, which means I often end up forgetting those exist. Please tell me about scenes that lack description in that regard. (My first grade elementary school report card called my writing 'efficient and devoid of feelings', and I'd very much like to move past that.)
Technical problems. The code should be pretty solid, but with how complicated it is, it'd be weird if there weren't at least some problems. If you find them, please try to include as much detail as possible when telling me about it. (CS Quicktest and Randomtest are not usable due to the complexity of the code, lol.)
You liking the story. I remain thoroughly convinced that I am a worthless person who isn't able to, nor deserves to create anything, and currently my only motivation to continue this project is derived from pure stubbornness. So, if you, for some reason, actually like this demo, please tell me. It won't change my mind about how bad I think it is, but it will force me to continue in order to avoid being even more of a disappointment.
Additions. If I like your idea, I'll probably add it right away; if I'm unsure, I'll do a poll. You can get me to do almost anything if you say you're sad if I don't do it.
Formatting. Although I try to playtest as much as possible, it's not that easy with how many variations there are, and in VS Code it's sometimes hard to see how well or badly readable text passages actually are.
CWs/TWs (v0.0.1):
Graphic violence and gore
Attempted sexual assault (against the player, avoidable, f!MC only; also against an NPC if massacre route is chosen (is dealt with quickly))
Suicide attempt (by the player, avoidable; f!MC only)
Loss of loved ones
Massacre of civilians and/or PoWs (avoidable)
General misery
(please let me know if you think this needs additions)
As of yet unfinished content:
Autistic variations do not exist yet for the latter part of the demo
Only one of three locations for taking a walk available for now
Tooltips are incomplete
Asexual is not available yet, as it requires a lot of additional scene variation text
Special (psychopath) routes are missing from some scenes as they were added late in development
Choices that are locked and marked as (WIP) are unfinished
Interaction routes for Semyon/Selena, Mikhail/Marina and Leon/Leah. They are top priority for the first set of updates
It is recommended that you play this with a stable state of mind. If you choose the suffering paths because it's relatable and/or as a coping strategy, please make sure you have support available and avoid triggering yourself too much.
The whole point of this game (apart from the dress-up part) is that, no matter how bad things get, you shouldn't stop fighting. It's your enemies who deserve destruction, not you.
Please keep in mind that I am both literally insane and pretty reasonable, so: if there is anything you find grossly offensive, don't assume I meant anything bad by it. Just explain to me why you think it shouldn't exist, and if I am convinced, I will amend it.
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Hi hi ~
What are your thoughts on professor/TA twst characters x college student reader ??? I literally cannot stop thinking about Prof ashengrotto who just adores the sweet and diligent student who sits in the front of the class, always participating, always turns in assignments on time... Prof ashengrotto who grades your papers mercilessly knowing you'll barge into his office biting back tears because who's grade is this?? Certainly not yours?? What if you lose your scholarship?? Whoever is going to help you???
p p pp p p pppp professor.........ashengrotto..........
(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, one-sided student-professor relationship, age gap (azul is 38 & reader is 23), coercion, abuse of power/authority, implied dub-con)
He's ruthless with every paper he grades, but he's especially ruthless with you. Professor Ashengrotto has a reputation in his department: socially, he's handsome and young (a mere thirty-eight, and he's just as bright, if not brighter, than some of the older professors). Academically, he's brilliant and very knowledgeable when it comes to business and the economy (and interestingly enough he has a penchant for marine biology as well), but he pushes students to do their very best. And to some that may seem like he's too hard or difficult, but he's actually very understanding and if you meet him outside of the classroom he's not as intimidating as he appears at the lectern.
But even so he expects his students to strive for the best possible grades. He wants everyone to pass his classes, but he also won't cut corners or raise grades even if they're a point or so away. He claims he's fair when it comes to grading, but sometimes it feels like he deliberately grades for every possible mistake rather than the content itself. At least, that's how it feels with your work. He took off points for a few grammar errors (of all things) and even took off points regarding very minor discrepancies in your information. When you brought it up to him after class, he'd simply told you, "You should know your subject if you're going to write a report on them and obviously, from the looks of your most recent paper, you do not."
It was a report on the intelligence of the octopus. You'd spent hours poring over textbooks and academic journals. You'd penned every reliable source, every fact, every study and its data. How any of that was "incorrect" is beyond you. You even cited every source properly! What is he even thinking, marking you for "incorrect information"?
In your defense, you are not a marine biology major. You're just taking a class because you need course credits and this was one of the few that provided you with the extra hours needed. You know Professor Ashengrotto from the business classes you're taking. He's just as cutthroat there. Apparently, the academic world is just as ruthless as the business world (at least in Professor Ashengrotto's eyes).
As if your professor can't get any harsher, he does. He failed your most recent report for one of the business courses, and it hurt your grade a considerable amount. So, like clockwork, you find yourself in his office, your paper nearly crumpled in your fist with how tightly you're gripping it. You can't fail out of his class. You need to keep a certain grade average each semester if you intend to keep your scholarship, your status as an honors student, your roles in certain clubs and extracurriculars. You verbalize these worries to him and he smiles and proposes an offer: You can redo the entire report so long as you take care to do a better job. It sounds great until you hear the deadline. Three days. He's giving you three days. Three days to write an entire report from the ground up because he won't accept changes made to the already existing paper. Three days.
Three days.
You think you might go insane.
Oh, but the fair and polite Professor Ashengrotto has a suggestion! He's willing to extend that time if you meet with him for coffee to discuss further. Stupidly, you agree right away, thanking him for his understanding, and he continues to smile, to say he really does get it. University is taxing; he knows. He's been there before. He just wants to help you; this is your future, after all.
On your way out of his office, you fail to notice the pale eyes that stick themselves to your rear as you retreat. The door shuts behind you, and only then do you realize the nature of the agreement. Meeting up for coffee. Outside of class. Outside of office hours. Meeting up...for coffee. Why does that feel...wrong, somehow? Why does it unsettle you?
But you need to amend your grades. You need to pass. You need to secure your future. So you push your discomfort aside and prepare yourself for the weekend.
- - -
It's strange to see Professor Ashengrotto without his usual pressed suits, luxury wristwatch, expensive ties, and shined shoes. He's almost...casual in his black turtleneck sweater, grey trench coat, and black slacks. He looks almost like a fellow student, so much so that his appearance startles you when you spot him sitting in a corner of the comfortable coffee shop.
To your speechless stare, he chuckles and asks, "Am I not allowed to dress comfortably on my days off?"
And then it hits you. This is his day off. This is your day off. This is not an academic setting. This is...
You shake your head and slide into the seat across from him. "Sorry. It just surprised me." You're digging through your bag to distract yourself, now acutely aware of his stare pinned on you. "I brought my laptop and was hoping you could look over my sources. I spent all of last night compiling them, so maybe if you had a chance to review them I might know what to do to avoid making the same mistakes. And I also started a new thesis. I don't think the other one was working. Maybe that's where I went wrong and so if I just change—"
"Is everything all right?"
You blink, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Sorry?"
"Are you okay? You seem frazzled."
"Well, I mean, yeah. That should be obvious." You cough, realizing your reply was harsh, and fix it with, "I'm trying to manage the workload from your classes and my other classes, Professor."
"Please. Call me Azul."
Your face scrunches in distaste. It doesn't sound right to refer to any professor by their first name, even if some of them have noted they don't particularly mind it. With Professor Ashengrotto, it feels far too casual. You don't like it.
And as if things can't get anymore casual, they do when a waitress arrives to deliver two cups of coffee and pastries. You stare at it. It's brewed just the way you like it. Even the pastry is your favorite. You fix Professor Ashengrotto with a questioning stare.
"You mentioned it in one of our introductions."
"My favorite coffee and pastry?" You frown, combing through your brain for when you might have said so. It's highly possible when you introduced yourself to your peers at the start of the semester. "Oh. Well, allow me to pay you back for—"
"There's no need." He smiles at you. It's gentler this time. You don't like it.
"No, I insist. How much was it? I'll give you the exact change right now."
You're fumbling for your wallet when his arm reaches across the table. A warm hand closes around yours.
"Professor Ashengrotto?"
"Azul," he corrects evenly. "And please don't worry about it. Everyone needs a little pick-me-up every now and then, yes?"
His fingers curl into yours, nearly entwining, and you yank your hand away, icy horror creeping up your spine. He blinks at you, as if stunned, before composing himself and drawing back. You stare between your wallet and laptop before pocketing the former and turning the latter on.
"Well, if you really don't want me to pay you back... Then let's get back to the matter at hand."
For the rest of your afternoon, you resign yourself to academic discussions. It's easy to fall into that rhythm, and Professor Ashengrotto offers helpful insight as he reviews everything you show him. By the end of it, you're relieved to have finished such a draining discussion. More importantly, you're glad you can leave this coffee shop and never return again (at least not with Professor Ashengrotto).
He reminds you to have it submitted before midnight at the end of the week. You thank him for his help and, just to ease your anxious heart, leave him with a few Madol for the drink and the pastry. On your way out, you feel his eyes on you, watching you make the walk to your car. Those eyes never leave, even after you've driven away.
It can't get any worse, you tell yourself.
You submit your revised paper a minute after midnight. And, apparently, by your professor's standards it's late. He gives you half credit. It hardly raises your grade. If anything, it lowers it a few points.
Like a bad song on repeat, you find yourself in his office yet again. And like before he proposes the same fix: coffee and revision. Stupidly, you agree to another weekend spent in discomfort. It's for the sake of your grades. It's for the sake of your scholarships. It's for the sake of your future, so you can sacrifice slivers of your sanity.
You have to if you want to pass.
- - -
Though it feels like you're improving in his class, your grade does not reflect this. You're not sure how many more coffee dates you can take. You're not sure how many more Please. Call me Azuls you can take. You're not sure how many fleeting touches you can take, each one seeming more invasive than the last. You hold your tongue and swallow disgust because your grades are in his capable hands. You need good grades. You need to pass. You need to, you need to, you need to.
You're in his office again, but this time your resolve has shattered and you're crying. You hate every moment of this. You hate feeling so cornered. Most of all, you hate how empty the building gets at this time of day.
"I don't know what you want anymore," you admit in a broken whisper. "I'm trying so hard. I've revised paper after paper, I've discussed everything over coffee, and I've done my best to improve. I listen and take notes. I ask questions. I'm never distracted. I always study the material. So what am I doing wrong? What am I supposed to do to pass? I can't lose my chances at being considered for certain scholarships..."
Professor Ashengrotto wears sympathy like it's a counterfeit of a luxury scarf. It almost fools you, but then he's rising from his seat, crossing the distance to the door, and you know his care stems from something else. Something wicked and foul.
"I'm sorry to hear you're struggling. I'm here to help, but I can't help if you aren't willing to put in enough time to submit good work—and submit it on time, might I add. This is a team effort, after all."
But I am putting in enough time! you want to say, but the words won't come. Your throat is closing up, raw and ragged from sobbing.
"If you're so concerned, I can offer you an alternative." His voice has dropped dangerously low. You don't dare turn around to face him. You can't when you hear the door shut and lock with an ominous click. "This deal is a double-edged sword. It will hurt both of us should the wrong people catch wind of it."
His shoes click out steady steps against the linoleum. He bends down to view you, hunched and horrified, in your chair. "But you're smart, so I know I can count on my little honor student to keep their pretty mouth shut." He smiles a sharp, nasty smile and draws back, leaning against his desk with his arms folded primly over his chest. "So let's help each other. Team effort, after all."
"P-Professor Ashengrotto, I don't think this is...appropriate."
He quirks a brow at you, and his normally soft, powdery hues are dark and stormy. "You want to pass, don't you? I could fail you right here, right now. Take one step out of this office and you'll never know success in any of my classes ever again." The light must have drained from your eyes because he chuckles again, tutting softly. "Don't make that expression. I'm not cruel. I'm giving you an opportunity to improve your grades. If I were you, I'd take it."
You weigh your grades and your integrity. Is the former really that important? You can survive one failure, right? Anything would be better than this horror. Anything would be better, right? So why are you hesitating?
You stare at your lap and, very quietly, ask, "What is it you want?"
"Get on your knees and put that smart mouth of yours to work. If you're good, I might consider giving you extra credit."
It's for the sake of your grades, so you have no choice.
#twisted chit chat#gross!!!! he's so gross!!! >:(#yandere twst#tw: age gap#tw: student teacher relationship#tw: dubcon
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Lights, Camera, Action! — Abby × Reader × Ellie Oneshot
[established relationship (abby x reader), ellie is their friend, MDNI]
cw: name calling, mentions/descriptions of sex tapes and its contents, kinda pervy characters (?? i guess, idk), beginning of threesome, ellie centered
word count: 3.2k | not proof read
a/n: so this was..... something. i decided to leave it there, i couldn't write anything more due to the amount of college demands but i sure had fun while i could write it!! hope y'all enjoy it, like and reblog! (p.s.: I'm posting it in a rush i should be sleeping by now bc i have to wake up in some hours but i absolutely will answer the asks you've sent me!! i love them, thank y'all for being so nice and sweet! please take care!)
This was a very tricky situation, and Ellie kept thinking to herself how the fuck did she got stuck into it. If you asked her she would be able to answer that, actually, but thinking back, it wasn't a good idea. Not when she felt so massively attracted to both you and Abby.
Now the full video rolling in front of her, on her computer, made a hard blush possess her freckled face. Hands shaking a little bit, stomach twirling, sweat dripping down her back as she heard your moans for the millionth time that night and saw Abby's tongue lapping your wet pussy over and over. She didn't know if she wanted to be you or her, both scenarios seemed too good to be true. The way her heart beat so hard together with her own cunt pulsing.
See, Ellie took some cinema introduction classes. Theory and a bit of practice too. And her friends, who were dating for more than a year now, asked her to film them a sex tape.
"W-what?!", the brunette almost choked with her sandwich, coffing furiously to escape that question.
You handed her the juice box, waiting patiently for her reaction to double down. When her green eyes laid on you with astonishment still, you got into how you and Abby wanted to record some sort of sex tape, to keep it to yourselves anyway.
"And why are you asking me?!"
"Because you're the most qualified for this job", you shrugged like it was nothing. Like you didn't just ask Ellie to watch her two friends having sex, fueled by the fact that someone was recording it. "Besides, we trust you!"
"... This is crazy, d'you know that?"
"We'll handle it. Don't kinkshame" She gulped after Abby's words and the way you eyed her.
Kinkshame you? Little did you know that she was doing it to herself.
During the filming, she nearly fainted. It took her a lot of strength to keep the camera steady and her hard breaths contained so it didn't come into the recording. Although a microphone stood next to the bed, the device on her hands still captured sound.
Sweating and working hard to ignore the growing wetness inside her pants, she didn't want to seem like some kind of pervert. You both trusted her for this, and so looking like some aroused observer wasn't right. Needing to keep professional - was that the word you used? - and not in the slightest horny as fuck.
She saw how Abby ate you out, and wanted to be there. Saw how you humped your girlfriend's thigh, and wanted to be there. Her hand itched to touch your flesh as you were sitting on Abby's face, and to grab Abby's hair while she moaned due to your tongue on her pussy. It was pure madness.
She walked away from that apartment with legs so weak she was surprised she didn't fall. And to her embarrassment, she touched herself and came so hard on her bed, imagining you both together. Feeling bad afterwards, but not enough to stop thinking about all the things she saw.
And now, two days later, here she was. Editing the recording in order to make this an incredible sex tape, the best to ever exist. She used a mobile camera, but also two others from different angles, so there was a lot of material to organize and synchronize, crop and assemble.
She needed to take some time to calm herself, but before she could actually do it there was a knock on her door. Her hand flew to the notebook faster than ever, putting the screen down almost entirely while her door opened to show her friend and roommate.
"Hey, me and Jess are going to order pizza. Want some?", Dina asked, resting on the door.
"Uh- yeah, sure" Ellie nodded, gulping and looking around like she was caught in the middle of something forbidden.
"Why do you look like you're doing some shit?" Her face warmed when your moan sounded on her headphone again.
At this point she already knew what was happening on the video: Abby had you legs open on the bed, rubbing her pussy against yours. The image was sinful, but oh so beautiful.
"I'm doing nothing", the freckled girl closed the computer, now interrupting the video. "Or something. I-I mean, anything could be some shit. What are you talking about?"
"Ellie" her friend's smile was slick, Dina knew just how to make the woman want to disappear from the Earth. "Were you watching porn?"
"N-no!", yes. Yes she was. That was definitely some filthy porn. Not because it had extreme content, but just the fact that it was her friends and crushes there, made her feel a hundred percent more aroused. "Shut up, Dina!"
"Don't have to be so defensive about it", she laughed with hands in the air, watching as Ellie got up from the bed.
"Whatever, let's go eat, get out of my room"
Jesse heard the two of them arguing whilst coming from the bedroom, Ellie with her face so red it could almost be confused by a sunburn and Dina clacking.
"Ellie was watching porn!"
"I was not! What are you, fucking six?!"
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Hands sweating and head full of conflictual thoughts, the brunette walked into the cafeteria holding her backpack so tight it seemed like she was carrying something illegal. She had an itch on the nape, an impression that everyone there knew exactly what she did.
Pretty sure that ginger girl knew Ellie got off on the memories of that day and the video, on the vision of Abby biting her lips as you pressed her swollen clit-
"Ellie!", she snapped out of trance with your voice, looking aerial in front of you and Abby. "Is everything okay?"
"You look like there's somebody stalking you", Abby frowned, eyeing the surroundings.
"No, it's fine, I'm just… Tired", well, that wasn't a lie since she had to stay awake to finish the editing after the college assignments.
"Did we bother you? I told you there was no need to rush, we could wait", you rested a hand on hers across the table after she sat, and all she could think was how your palms were soft and comfortably warm.
"Nah, it's cool. I just left things to the last minute so I hurried as much as I could"
And after all she wouldn't survive editing the video for one more night; might as well explode.
The vision of Abby's fingers loosely resting on your shoulder made her remember the way they invaded your pussy, fitting so perfectly there, enough to make you moan and call her name.
Ellie took the pen-drive from the inside pocket of her backpack and put it on the table in front of the couple, letting go like touching it made her skin burn.
"All edited, boss", she smiled as best as she could, hiding the desire to beg you both for something very explicit. "Enjoy the watch"
"Thanks, Els!", you smiled back with a lot of excitement, so beautifully, picking up the small object. "We would invite you to watch, but I guess you haven't forgotten, since you were there and had to see it again to edit."
Ellie froze.
What did you just say?
Her mind went blank after the mere possibility of sitting on your couch next to the both of you, just fucking watching a video of the most attractive couple having shameless, passionate sex.
She couldn't even say anything back, which caused Abby to chuckle slightly. Just like if she knew you were doing something devious.
"W-what-... I- I mean, I had to watch it again but I don't think I remember that clearly-", she stumbled on her words, trying to revert whatever impressions she may have passed. Shit, did you know?
"Damn, was it that bad?" Abby snorted out, an eyebrow going up.
"No! No-, it was great, it was amazing, I just don't think I, like, remember every single detail or something like that." That was a lie, she absolutely remembered.
"Huh. So would you want to come over to watch it with us? I mean, we need to give you feedback for your hard work, right?", you rested the chin on a hand, eyeing her with so much glee in your orbs that Ellie couldn't tell what the fuck did that mean.
"Sure, right! Yeah, feedback would be nice. To see if my work was good and all, guess I could use that", she couldn't care less about feedback.
"Unless you're already tired of seeing it, it would be comprehensible. Or if it's awkward somehow…", the blonde gestured softly, her voice sounding so good. Ellie was so distracted by the anxiety and the accumulated tension that she didn't even notice how you both were satisfied with her answers, guiding her through a sinuous path into a trap.
"No! I will definitely be there, absolutely cool. Nice. Good shit", she kept nodding back, taking a laugh from you now.
"Okay! Seven?"
"Lucky number!" Her smile was weak and she made finger guns. Fucking finger guns?, she asked herself.
"Yeah, I hope we have some luck for sure", Abby said, smiling.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
"Dina, I will fucking die!" Ellie was almost screaming in the middle of the street, phone against her ear whilst she walked to the building you and Abby lived in.
"Could you chill a little bit?! It's just a movie! I know you're like head over four heels for them, but you've done this before. You'll get in, watch it, laugh, eat something, hang out. And then you'll come home"
"But it's not just a regular movie, it's-", she sighed and stopped on her tracks. Hiding was tiring as fuck, but she didn't know if she could tell someone, that was intimate. "Fuck, I need to breathe"
"That's what I'm saying"
"Right. Thanks, guess I'll just hang out, watch something, whatever you just said"
"Just be yourself, honey! You will do great! Jesse, tell Ellie she will do great"
"You got this, Els. Whatever happens, we'll have pizza when you come back"
"Yeah… Thanks, guys", the brunette smiled even though they couldn't see it, getting closer to the building. "I have to go, just got here"
"If you kiss them, message me right away!"
"I won't stop kissing them just to tell you"
"You'll definitely stop it to jump around and do a victory dance, might as well message me"
"Shut up", she chuckled and said goodbye before turning off.
With a last sigh, Ellie pressed the button to your apartment and waited for you to pick up after the buzz. Instead, the gate just unlocked with a loud noise, neither of you needed to answer the buzz to know it was her. The brunette entered the building, heart pounding.
"Hey, Ells!", you greeted her with that sweet smile of yours, hugging her briefly. All she could think about was how good you smelled, and how that pijama shorts left little to imagination - well, she knew what was underneath it, after all. Still… "Come on, Abs was just setting up the TV"
"Oh-, alredy?", you pulled her by the hand and closed the door, leading the way to the living room she already knew so well after hanging out there so many times.
"We're excited to see the effects of your amazing classes", Abby smirked, winking at Ellie with those beautiful eyes. She was wearing a simple shirt and sweatshorts, exposing those strong legs. It looked so sexy in an inexplicable way.
The three of you sat on the couch, you in between. Your legs rested on the blonde's thighs, large shirt covering the small pijama shorts. Contrasting, Ellie had pants and a flanel on.
The filming was very good, technically speaking. But even the most layman could notice how the mobile camera had not only an open view, but also focused on intimate aspects of the situation.
A long shot of you and Abby kissing passionately. Strong hands caressing your body and bringing back close memories of her touch. Abby bit your chin, and Ellie made sure to record closely her trail of kisses on your exposed neck.
There was also a close shot of your bodies approaching more and more, legs tangling, Abby's strong thigh between yours as you started to move and rub your core there with a tortuous rhythm.
Ellie's face started to warm again, she gripped the arm of the couch when you moan reverberated, as Abby palmed your breast and bit your neck slightly.
The minutes passed and you felt yourself getting hotter. Your girlfriends fingers resting on your leg made you squirm.
"I like the way you focused on the closeness", Abby said, getting a hum from the brunette next to you. "It almost feels like you're trying to connect with the moment."
Ellie gulped, a wetness distinctble on her pants.
As the film goes on, the Miller girl tried her best not to move, thinking that it would hide her aroused situation but only making more obvious for you how she felt. The small biting of her lip also caught your attention, as her emerald eyes locked on the screen, where you had legs open with Abby's hand making circling moves on your clit, while you both kissed.
Fuck, you felt the way your nipples were hardening right now, just thinking about how Ellie could've felt while editing that.
Abby tried her best not to fuck you right then and there, knowing just how Ellie felt about the view.
It was definitely a maddening situation for the three of you.
When you were moving your hips with euphoria, looking for that righ, moaning against your girlfriend's delicious lips on film, Ellie finally got up suddenly.
"I-... Have to go to the bathroom", as all she could say, before almost running into said place.
You and Abby hear the door closing, and finally you could let go a deep breath and hold tightly on the shirt Abby wore.
"I don't know if I can wait much more", you murmured. Her fingers trailed up to the middle of your thighs, you separating them a bit to welcome her there. The film was still on, and it made everything more intense.
"Wanna get going?", the way she smiled had you weak, squirming while she pressed your cunt.
Inside the bathroom, Ellie rested her hands on the sink and breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. She could swear she saw you by the peripheral view, smiling while looking at her. Like everything since the first night after filming, she had to convince herself it was just paranoia.
"It's okay, Ellie. They didn't notice. You can do this", she murmured.
Washing her face and breathing deeply again, she finally got out after drying herself and doing nothing about the wetness between her legs.
Turning off the bathroom lights, she thought a small moan she heard was kinda different, but the confirmation only came when she reached the living room again and saw you on top of Abby - not on the TV, though.
You were literally sitting on her lap, the shorts on the ground and a strong hand pressing your cunt above the pantie's fabric. Muffled moanings came between the kiss you both shared, just like the ones Ellie heard.
"Uh- I think I'mma get going, I don't want to-", her face was so hot and she probably was trembling. Her body urged not to go, but the rational part of her brain was judging her for standing there even though she just said she would go.
"Ellie-", you called her.
You moaned her name.
Her core clenched around nothing, pleading for her to go and touch the both of you.
Abby looked over your shoulder and used the free hand to slap your ass, bringing a louder moan followed by the - literally - pornographic sounds on TV.
That had to be a fucking dream, right? You couldn't possibly be asking for her to do something, right?
Right?
"I guess we scared her, princess", the blonde said, smirking.
"I thought you liked seeing us, Els", you declared while moving the hips on Abby's hand.
And then it hit her.
It was all a fucking trap.
You knew exactly what she thought. Asking her to film you both having sex was no coincidence, not an occasional situation that so happened to have Ellie included, it was deliberated. Fuck, you were exhibiting yourselves to her and she fell like a moth hipnotized by the beautiful flame.
"Fuck, since when you've been planning this?", the brunette murmured, walking slowly towards the couch again. On the TV, Abby slapped your pussy as you came hard and drenched.
You felt a chill running down your spine as Ellie's slender fingers touched your shoulder, going up to your neck. Abby watched in awe as you had the hair being pulled slightly to look up, Ellie was testing the waters.
"This shit has been planned since the beginning?"
"Did you touch yourself looking at us later?", you asked, riding harder. Abby kissed your exposed neck, grabbing your ass while the other hand rubbed your pussy intensively. Green eyes filled with lust analized your features.
"Did you fuck yourselves thinking about me?"
Your smile was slick and you wanted to come so bad. The sounds from the video made you even hornier, needing to surrender completely.
Ellie did something she wanted to do for a long time: she kissed you. And it was intoxicating. Consuming her being from head to toes, oh, it lit a fire inside. It was messy and urgent, and when you both separated her lips were moisty. Then, she pulled Abby by the braid and did the same, their kiss being a bit more slow but not less intense; the gasoline that made the fire grow.
"Please, Els…", your voice came out whiney.
"She's been desperate for you", Abby chuckled with disdain, caressing your ass still partially clothed by the panties. "Almost begged me to fuck her in front of you today"
"Really?", the question wasn't for you, but you nodded. "I thought she was less of a whore"
After the video, she knew how you liked to be treated. And to be pretty honest, it matched what she loved herself.
"I'm gonna taste you, sweetie. Can I?", her fingers caressed your face, contrasting with the way you were humping hard Abby's hand. Nodding again, you started to feel more and more excited with the sounds from the TV.
"Shit, baby, your pretty cunt looks so good", Abby's voice filled the room from the video, you knew that was the part she made you sit on her face.
Ellie kneeled behind you, between Abby's spread legs. The blonde had a blushed face and breath hard, still touching you and having a hard time deciding where to look. She was wet, incredibly wet, and her pussy was aching.
"After that, I wanna taste you, Abs", Ellie's voice made her squirm and slap your ass again.
It was all so mind blowing. Her touches snake on your back, under the shirt, feeling your skin while she kisses your ass and hips. You stopped the movements, receiving Abby's lips on yours again as Ellie worshiped you. She grabbed your tits and bit your ass, causing you to sigh and smirk between the kiss. The temperature of the room rose.
"Get up and take these", she was referring to your panties, which she pulled just so it could snap back on your ass.
"And then sit back on my lap and watch the tape with me while Ellie tastes your cunt", Abby completed, grimacing with the wetness growing between her legs.
[dividers by @luvchaewon and @froopis]
#abby x reader x ellie#ellabs x reader#ellabs x reader oneshot#oneshot#tlou fanfic#ellabs fanfic#ellabs oneshot#ellabs x reader smut#abby x reader x ellie oneshot#abby x ellie x reader oneshot#abby anderson x ellie williams x reader#fanfic writing#tlou2 oneshot#the fanfic of us#the last of us fanfic#the last of us oneshot#tlou fanfiction#tlou2 fic#tlou2 ellabs fic#deblklesb
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Fallen Sapphire Tears (Yandere!Sunday x Reader x Yandere!Aventurine)
My last little post got me thinking…who else would share?
Then I decided I can force people to share for the fun of it! I figured it’d be interesting to see the striking balance between Sunday and Aventurine—both so vastly different characters, and figured out they’d fit one soul quite nicely—so, enjoy!
Spoilers for the new 2.2 quest up ahead and general yandere content trigger warnings! Oh and pregnancy allusions.
Aventurine and Sunday would both enjoy a justice-oriented darling—not just any justice either, but lawful and distinct justice, the kind casts away nuance in favor of the black and white stance and hope.
Aventurine obviously notices you first in this sweet dream and wishes to indulge you in a wager—it only gets him more antsy when you decline on principle, a wager so large means either he’s an addict, or can surely win, right? So what point would there be in playing…
He stands still in that answer—certainly not the first time he’s heard a no or been called an addict but it’s the first he’s been called an addict while saying no. In your eyes, too, it seems like you vaguely care about the former. He laughs it off then.
But continues to think heavily.
When you come back—it only intrigues him more.
Too bad he has to take a quick curtain call.
Sunday met you after, much later once you and Aventurine become close acquaintances almost friends. He notices your looks first—beauty to him, not in how orderly you look per se but…in how your clothes all fit a distinct role and place, how the style of your hair even if not particularly styled balances out this order of roles. Even disheveled homeless men have a certain look to them determined by the roles of their clothes—and you encompass that to him.
It kept his eye on you enough so that when you chose your answers…when you spoke of justice behind your choice in every section. To save a bird is just, to let the law catch a man willing to send his own children whom we don’t even know exist, and to support his dear sister despite him not..it all was quite eye opening to him on the justice his order needed.
He wouldn’t kidnap you immediately only because he would take great care in making your cage—only to then find Aventurine having found you and offering you to leave this place.
They should have killed eachother right then and there—but somehow, a word became a conversation and they came to an agreement.
Of course, they would keep you in the cage together—Aventurine could find and exploit every weakness in the cage crafted to before you had the chance to, and hide information about you from anyone else who would ask. Sunday keeps the cage crafted and gives instruction as needed. Even if it means a bitter false defeat to keep a hidden you.
Aventurine spends most days with you—when he isn’t working you two play games, even if you don’t want to he still tries to play with you, and he often orders take out—can even do a little cooking if you ask. He’s almost moldable—doing as you ask as long as it isn’t escaping related or not keeping an eye on you.
Sunday spends nights with you—sometimes there’s idle chatter with a dinner or late night snack and conversation of the world—but oftentimes it’s silent cuddling as he holds you. Perhaps even Aventurine too if that’s what it took to hold you.
Everything quickly becomes boring and mundane with them—and they know how to keep it that way.
You have a list of small chores while housekeeping does the rest, which is a light dust in some areas and tidying up basic things. It’s so domestic that it almost feels like you’re a rich housewife without a care to actually clean…
Funnily enough, being the last of a kind is gettting to Aventurine and of course Sunday is rather…family-oriented.
Perhaps it is time for another discussion.
AN: Ik it’s short and scattered but I’m thinking of writing like an actual fic for this one so it’s going to stay like this for now.
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MY YOUTH | SKZ NINTH AU
stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)
<---------- back to my youth
<---------- back to main masterlist
chapter 3
genre: fluff, angst content warnings: bullying, implied death
word count: 1.2k
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Worried about who was on the other side of the door, Lou braced herself. Whatever happens, we take it with a pinch of salt, she thought, expecting it to be someone that wouldn't take too kindly to her.
She was right to expect that exact kind of person.
"So, finally decided to stop whoring around our oppas?" one girl asked as she barged into Lou's studio.
"Look, poor baby can't go anywhere without a teddy," another girl mocked as she held up a plushie of a little ginger cat.
Lou could only helplessly look around as another headache came on.
"Ouch," she said quietly to herself as she held onto her head.
"Mina-unnie, Sora-Unnie, maybe we should leave this for another time..." a girl who hovered by the doorway said, looking around in case someone appeared.
Lou shut her eyes as she saw something else in her head.
"Promise me, Louisa, that you won't stop yourself from reaching your dreams, okay? Don't do it just because of me," a woman in a hospital bed held Lou's hand as she cried.
"I promise, Mum," Lou wiped her eyes, holding on so tightly to a hand that slipped away from hers, as a machine started beeping.
"Guys, it's gone quiet in the next room, I think we need to go," the younger girl scratched her head awkwardly, watching as Mina and Sora noises around Lou's belongings.
"Hey, Lou-ser, guess you won't mind if we take these. Yah! Don't ignore us!" Sora prodded at Lou who was holding onto the wall for balance and her head in pain. Meanwhile Mina was holding onto that very plushie, sensing it meant something, and onto Lou's purse too.
"Hey look at Lou's plushie, so cute," the members of SKZ cooed as they looked around her room as part of a house tour they were doing in a vlog.
"Guys why are you all in my room?" Lou burst out laughing in her vision.
"Who got you this, so so cute," Felix held up the plushie.
"Ah, my, my mum, my eomma got it for me," Lou sadly smiled, Lee Know going up to her and giving her a hug noticing her slight discomfort around the subject.
Lou blinked her eyes seeing Mina flipping through her notebook too.
"Hey, give that back!" Lou went over to take back her own things. It felt like a big thing for her because in the normal way in her home reality she hated confrontation, but something within her now was bubbling.
"Jiah! Don't just stand there, don't let her win!" Sora hissed at the younger girl who clearly didn't want to be there. She didn't understand why her unnies chose to harass an idol, they were still trainees. This would not look good for them.
"Jiah!"
And so the girl went behind Lou and pulled her back, stopping her from snatching her own items from Mina.
"Stupid girl actually writes some decent songs, mine now," Mina tore out the most recent pages from Lou's book, nodding her head towards the door as she held onto the money and toy.
"Guys, leave her like that."
And so they left, Lou beginning to feel a horrible choked feeling in her chest. She didn't know her mum in this universe, yet she still felt the heartache of her loss and the last thing her mum must have gotten for her being taken away. She couldn't imagine losing her actual mum so having to be forced to live through a life where that was the reality wasn't all too ideal.
Wiping her tears away after doing some deep breathing to get rid of the horrible feeling, she stood up and went back to her notebook, trying to remember as many of the words she had written to 'She Plays Bass' as she could. There was a new found determination to finish the song, before any of those girls could claim it as their own and take all the credit for her hard work.
"Ah! For fuck's sake!" Lou slammed her pencil down, rubbing her temples as the next lines, which already existed, weren't flowing out as they should be.
"Woah, this a bad time?" Seungmin had popped his head through, but was clearly regretting it now as he saw the rarely angry Lou.
"No, it's just, ah maybe..." Lou stared at her notebook tiredly.
"Hey, where did Garfield go?" Seungmin said, pointing at the little seat where the plushie usually sat, shocked at it not being there.
"Ah, I lost it."
"Really? You ok?" he tiptoed around the obvious as he asked Lou, standing next to her now to gage her reaction.
"Yeah, I'll find it, I'm sure, I probably left it at the dorms earlier," Lou hummed in thought.
"Ok well, come on then, let's have some fun," Seungmin had a mischievous grin on his face.
Soon they snuck into the 3RACHA studio, seeing Changbin and Han had fallen asleep and Chan was deep into the zone with his headphones on.
"Okay, so on the count of 3, you press play," Seungmin instructed Lou as they hovered around the doorway.
3
2
1
'Shoot Me' by DAY6 came blasting through the Bluetooth speaker that Seungmin was holding and the two of them started crazily jumping around and dancing as Changbin and Han's screams shocked Chan out of his creative mode.
"YAH"
"AHHHHHH!"
"Guys what the f-"
"Bang bang!" Seungmin and Lou sang along whilst trying to fit the Miroh choreo to the song.
"Turn it off!"
"So loud!"
"Guys I'm on live!" Chan shouted over them, which quickly froze the two mischief makers, Lou rushing to stop the music from her phone as Seungmin did the same trying to find the off button on the speaker.
Lou slowly walked to where Chan was sat and looked over his shoulder at the screen,
"You're live?"
The comments came rushing in:
Hahaha Flo looks so confused
The way Binnie and Han jumped out of their skin 😂😂😂
Seungmin definitely made Lou do this ahahaha
How did Chan not notice ahhhhh
"Yeah, how didn't you see us?" Lou poked Chan's shoulder.
"I was too invested in showing stays how I produce," Chan rubbed his head tiredly.
"Today isn't even Sunday?" Lou carried on confused.
Han burst out laughing, "Yah, Lou doesn't know the days of the week!"
"What day did you think it was?" Seungmin laughed from his spot on the sofa next to Changbin and Han.
"Tuesday?"
Chan shook his head fondly. "We'll leave it there stays, Lou needs to go back to school!"
As Chan was doing his outro, Lou facepalmed and went off camera.
"That was so embarrassing."
"And you don't think it's not embarrassing in the normal way," Changbin joked as he sat back with his arms folded.
"I'm just going to lay here and never move again," Lou laid across all three of them, her head resting in Han's lap who automatically played with her hair. This was sort of Lou's kryptonite because she was already feeling tired.
"Hey don't make her sleepy we haven't had dinner yet," Chan turned around in his chair.
"What's for dinner?" Lou sleepily muttered.
"Bulgogi, kimchi-"
"I'm up. I'm awake!"
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kai-lee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @lixie-phoria
#skz#stray kids#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz fluff#skz angst#straykids imagines#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#skz fic#straykids ninth member#skz ninth member#stray kids ninth#ninth member#stray kids ninth member#skz 9th member reader#skz 9th member#stray kids 9th member#skz series#stray kids series#my youth skz
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