#advice on coding is always welcome

[illycanary]

What Aang’s Relationship With His Kids Tells Us About His Relationship With Katara

Bumi: “Oh, boo-hoo. Must've been real hard for you, flying around the world with dad, riding elephant-koi all day.”

Tenzin: “Oh, so that's what this is all about.”

Kya: “That's what it's always been about. You think you're some savior who has to carry on dad's legacy.”

Tenzin: “Who else is going to do it?”

Kya: “How about all of us?”

Bumi: “Yeah, we're Aang's kids too.”

The whole problem with this family is, Aang didn’t believe that.

Aang has a long, undeviating track record of never questioning anything he believes about the Air Nomads. Who the hell has a perfect and complete understanding of their society, government, international relations, education system, religion, morality, genetics, and reproduction at age 12? According to Aang? He does. 

The entire lynchpin of Aang’s Book 3 arc is all about how Air Nomads are pacifists and cannot ever under any circumstances harm a life. (We’re going to ignore the body count Aang’s already wracked up over the first two seasons for the sake of preserving his feelings because those were soulless NPCs or something.) 

And yet Aang never questions this…

Monk Gyatso’s bones surrounded by a pile of Fire Nation soldier bones. The picture doesn’t fit Aang’s image of Air Nomad peace and harmony, so he ignores it entirely. It NEVER comes up despite its overwhelming relevance to Aang’s internal conflict and the sorts of advice he seeks from authority figures in the third season (despite Monk Gyatso being the penultimate authority figure in Aang’s life).

Another thing Aang never questions?

There’s no such thing as a non-airbending Air Nomad. They’re just all born that spiritual. And spirituality is the golden key that unlocks bending. (Because Bryke said so.)

Despite Guru Pathik not being a bender. Despite the fact that Zhao, literal spirit murderer, is one. Despite Toph—the most un-spiritual, cynical, feet-on-the-ground-head-nowhere-near-the-clouds member of Aang’s friend group—being the most powerful bender of the lot. Despite Hama being a waterbender equal to none but Katara while completely cut off from her culture and turning her back on everything we believe about water bending’s inherent ties to community, connectedness, and love (Iroh’s words). Despite Azula mastering the god-tier lightning technique BECAUSE she’s practically dead inside and values life least of all things. Despite the fact that Princess Yue has the literal MOON SPIRIT THAT IS THE SOURCE OF ALL WATERBENDING living inside her, and yet she still somehow manages to not be a bender.

Despite the fact that Air Nomads roam all over the world, sewing their wilds oats throughout every nation, yet no airbending toddlers ever crop up in Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom preschools. 

Despite the fact that non-monogamous societies where men have multiple partners father more children and boost the population faster than in societies that favor “attached” relationships, yet the all-airbending Air Nomads still somehow have the smallest population of any ethnic group in the world. 

Despite the fact that Aang’s twin, Ty Lee, is RIGHT. THERE. with her unparalleled aura-seeing, chakra blocking spirituality and her GRAY EYES in a world where color coding is ~totally~ not a thing… *sigh* 

But nope. Air Nomad parentage = airbending child. Always.

So when Katara births a child that is… not an airbender? Not any kind of bender at all, in fact. There’s only one logical conclusion (in Aang’s mind). 

That is not Aang’s child. 

Aang never had a problem traveling with non-airbenders before. He was non-exclusionary by nature. Katara and Toph and Zuko were welcome. Sokka and Suki were welcome. The more, the merrier, in fact. Because Aang loves nothing as much as he loves an adoring audience.

Yet Bumi never travelled with Aang.

Bumi’s as old in this picture as Aang was in the first series. He had an entire decade in which he should have been the most important thing in his parents’ lives. His personality was already more or less formed (not completed, but the groundwork was laid) by the time Tenzin came along. Bumi’s inferiority issues began long before there were any airbending children around to siphon Aang’s attention for training purposes. 

Aang and Katara didn’t have another child until Bumi was on the verge of adolescence because Aang was convinced that Katara cheated. And I’m guessing it took Mr. “Let Your Anger Out, And Then Let It Go” about ten years to forgive his wife and give her the chance to get it right. (Which is at least four years longer than he gave her to forgive her mother’s murderer, in case you forgot.)

Acolyte: “Sorry, I thought you were the servants.”

Bumi: “We’re Tenzin’s brother and sister!”

Acolyte: “Avatar Aang had other children? The world is filled with more airbenders?!”

Kya: “We’re not airbenders.”

Acolyte: “Oh… I’m so sorry.”

The Air Acolytes—whose whole identity, purpose, lifestyle, and religion center around every detail of this man's life and beliefs—didn't know Aang had more than one child.

The best case scenario here is that Aang simply pretended his older children didn’t exist because he was ashamed of them and made Katara keep them shut away at all times. 

And maybe that could have worked… If Aang and Katara had ever had any privacy in their relationship. But they didn’t.

The Air Acolytes have been following Aang and Katara since the comics. They’ve been there at every step of Aang and Katara’s life together. Observing. Fangirling. Emulating. Diefying. Looking for weaknesses in the relationship because Katara was only his “first girlfriend.” 

Yet, somehow, they didn’t know Aang had three children. 

I can’t imagine a way for them not to know unless Aang actively told people, “Those aren’t my kids,” and let Katara bear the shame and stigma of having the world believe she was unfaithful. 

All because Aang couldn't entertain the idea that he was wrong about some facet of a society he never understood clearly.

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #atla meta #anti kataang

[valrnyx]

Oh my god Tahllula😭😭😭 This poor egg has had a day to say the least. To start she had to deal with her father shouting/threatening her and her brother. He then revealed he’s struggling to fight off possession by an unknown higher entity he has made an enemy of. Said father then left to go heal himself in the name of another higher entity she has no knowledge of (he practically abandoned them, even if it was for a good reason). Later in the day, she then goes to her most trusted tio for help with something (I’m assuming confiding in q!bad about her father or at least getting some vague advice or emotional support) only to find that he has absolutely zero recollection of her and that he died in the time since she’s last seen him. She then insists that she’s fine and asks the now familiar stranger to write a letter for her father’s birthday (q!bad has no clue who that is either). She attempts to get q!bad to recognize her with no success and asks if his death was painful. The echo of her beloved tio replies helpfully with “i don’t remember but some deaths are agonizing while others are peaceful” failing to comfort his now unrecognizable niece. She stops calling the demon in front of her “tio” switching to something more formal with “Mr.” She states she hopes he remembers her and while he may not remember her at the moment, he’s very important to her. She says to the now unfamiliar face that he’s always welcome at her home and he insists the same. She quickly flees soon after.

My poor Tahllula😭😭😭😭 She doesn’t deserve to go through this. She definitely didn’t deserve to get lored on by bad on the same day she got lored on by Phil.

Isn’t it awful that the most powerful people on the island are reduced to the most unstable and a threat to their children. Bad has lost all his memory, Phil is/was a few steps away from being possessed by his long time enemy, The Enderking, Tubbo has come back from death incredibly unstable and is lashing out against those who hurt him, Cellbit has just given up, too exhausted to continue fighting after the insanity that was Purgatory, and Étoiles lost his most prized possession, his code sword and shield during the transfer to the new island. Everyone is ten steps away from loosing it and all their children can do is watch it all come crashing down. (I’m sure I missed some people’s lore or not represented it to the fullest. I was more thinking about the original islands powerhouses)

#qsmp #badboyhalo #qsmp bbh #qsmp eggs #qsmp tallulah #qsmp badboyhalo #qsmp angst #qsmp philza #q!badboyhalo #q!bbh #q!tubbo #q!philza #q!cellbit #q!tallulah #qsmp tubbo #qsmp cellbit #qsmp etoiles #q!etoiles

[daisyblog]

Unexpected Visitor

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN has an unexpected visitor.

It had been a few months since Harry had began filming for Don't Worry Darling. YN had always been supportive of Harry and any opportunity he was given. She has supported him through his time in One Direction, when he decided to go solo when the band went on a break. Even when they weren't on talking terms for a while, YN still supported him silently behind the scenes, she was his biggest fan.

It was evening time, Harry had been on set all day and decided he needed to go for a run just to get some sunlight. YN was at their house in LA, enjoying the sunshine in the garden with Teddy as they waited for Harry to return. It was a Friday evening, which usually mean't it was pizza and wine night in the Styles/Tomlinson household.

So YN was surprised when she heard the buzzer at the front gate. She wasn't expecting any guests, due to the pandemic and also Harry knew the code to enter. Looking at the camera that showed the front gate, she noticed an older woman with wavy dark hair. As the woman turned to face the gate, YN recognised her as the Director of the film. Pressing the open button on the screen, YN headed to the front door ready to greet the guest.

As Olivia noticed YN stood at the front door, her eyes widened slightly. "Oh hi, I'm looking for Harry".

"He's just popped out, can I help you?" YN politely smiled at the older woman. She had never felt small but standing in front of a powerful woman, YN felt insecure.

“Oh Harry invited me over, sorry but who are you?” Olivia asked as a frown appeared on her face as she eyed YN up. YN thought she may have been joking, but when she raised her eyebrows at her, she realised that she was being serious.

“Sorry, how rude of me, I’m YN..Harry’s girlfriend” YN continued to be polite, even though she felt something didn’t feel right.

The older woman looked confused as she questioned “Girlfriend?”.

“Uh yeh…sorry am I missing something here?” YN wasn’t one to hold back, if something needed to be said then she would have to say it. 

Olivia was quick to explain “I am so sorry, Harry never mentioned he had a girlfriend…I would never have accepted his invitation to come over if I knew”. 

YN’s heart was telling her that Harry would never do something like this. She wasn’t sure what Olivia’s motive was but something just didn’t sit right. 

“Well you’re welcome to come in and wait if you’d like too”. She was more determined than ever to keep up the kind persona, not wanting to jeopardise Harry’s career.

Panic appeared on the older woman’s face. “Oh no…no..no that’s okay, I’ll be on my way..sorry again for disturbing you”. YN watched as the director hurried down the gravel drive, not giving her a chance to say anything else.

---

“Repeat that again….she just turned up and said Harry’s never mentioned you” Louis voice spoke through the speaker of YN’s phone as it sat on the kitchen island.

“Yeh pretty much” YN agreed. Despite knowing it couldn’t be true, YN still had insecurities and doubt crossed her mind. “Lou…do you think she was telling the truth?”.

“Tiny c’mon, you can’t think it’s true…that boy loves the fookin’ bones off yeh” Louis tried to reassure his sister, no doubt in his voice. 

YN nibbled on her lip as she thought. “I know he does, I just don’t want to lose him again Lou”.

“None of that shit…you and Harry had a blip but you’re strong yeh”.

“Yeh…you’re right…I miss you” YN admitted. She hated not being able to see her family, especially her older brother, who always played the role of her best friend, her go to person for advice.

“I miss you too Kiddo…but we’ll see each other soon yeh”.

—-

YN was in the kitchen with Teddy following her every move when Harry arrived back. His black T-shirt sticking to him from the sweat that covered his body.

Entering the kitchen, Harry noticed YN standing there deep in thought as she was mindlessly stirring her cup of tea.

“Hey baby” Harry’s voice startled her, making her jump and leave out breath. 

“You’ve got to stop doing that” YN pleaded, Harry chuckling knowing it’s a regular thing. 

Harry sensed something was wrong because before he’d left for his run, YN was her chirpy and bubbly self, but now she was withdrawn and her thoughts seemed elsewhere. “Everything alright?”.

YN paused deciding if she should tell him. “Uh…Olivia came here looking for you”.

Harry frowned, creases appearing on his forehead. “What…why?”.

YN shrugged her shoulders, wondering the same thing. “She said you had invited her over”.

Harry let out a chuckle at YN’s words. “No I didn’t…why would I do that?”.

“She also said that she didn’t know you had a girlfriend”.

Harry scoffed at this. “Yeh o’course she didn’t”.

YN had a feeling there was more to this than what she originally thought. “Harry, what’s going on?”.

Harry began to play with his bottom lip, trying to think of the best way to explain the situation to YN. “I don’t know…I thought she was just being friendly but...the last few weeks she been acting strange towards me..but turning up here is crossing the line…she knows about you…fucking hell the whole set knows about you…Florence wants to meet you because I talk about you so much” Harry rambled on. 

“Bubs…calm down” YN walked around the island to wrap her arms around his torso. “I trust you…you know that”.

Harry placed a peck on her forehead as he squeezed her slightly when his arms landed on her shoulders. “Sorry...I just hate how many times you've had to deal with this sort of thing".

"It's your fault...nobody can resist your charm" YN tried to make light of the situation, despite feeling a bubble of anger in her lower stomach at how another woman was trying to come between her and Harry.

---

Tag List: (let me know if you would like to be added) @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney fanfictioncafe lilfreakjez jerseygirlinca iamahallucinationnn @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r 

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harrystyles #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles writing #harry styles x fem!reader #harry x yn #harry x y/n #harry x you #harry x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles masterlist #harry styles series #harry styles series masterlist #harry styles x tomlinson!reader #1dff #harry 1d #1d fandom #1d era #harry styles blurb #louis tomlinson #zayn malik #liam payne #niall horan #fanfic #fanfiction

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.7

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1k

Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little

~

Nat quickly became your new internet best friend- if not your only friend. She started opening up her humor to you after you trauma dumped and in return, you began sending her memes as a symbol of your alliance. Occasionally she would humor you with a random picture of a sunset or a tree. You’d already known she lived somewhere in New York thanks to the area code on the phone number but you enjoyed experiencing the small window into her life and the fact that she was comfortable enough to send you those pictures.

It was a huge step in your friendship in your opinion.

The two of you began texting almost nightly, you would share something about how work was going (not the same job as before that one kind of um- fell to pieces-literally), and some nights you’d share how you felt about coming home and being alone all the time. She always listened and provided a substantial amount of comfort and advice- and though she never said anything you had a feeling maybe she was going through the same.

She never opened up as much as you did, although there was one brief mention of a single sibling. But the way it was phrased made you too afraid to ask her about it. You could feel how ice-cold the topic was from across the phone. You wondered if she regretted telling you or if she even realized she did.

—-

Nat loved her Avengers family with everything she had but there were some things she just couldn’t share with them. Talking to you- a kind of- complete stranger on the internet was almost therapeutic for her. Maybe it was just wishful thinking but even over text you had a warm and open energy about you. Maybe you wouldn’t judge her for everything she did-though you’d probably be biased based on your admiration for her. 

She wondered if you’d have that same energy in person. Wondered if you were the kind of person to talk with your hands or if you kept to yourself more. She knew plenty of people who were open over text and shy in person.

Sometimes you reminded her of Wanda. She thinks the two of you would get along. Not that you’d ever meet. You were Natasha’s secret guilty pleasure, and despite the small desire- she knew you two would never meet.

Without the heat of being “The intimidating Black Widow,” Nat felt more inclined to show you her more witty side, often ending in you sending a blurry picture of your middle finger or on one very specific occasion- A voice memo of you sneezing. Something about emphasizing your point of being “allergic to stupidity”.

She refused to admit she laughed at it for longer than she should have.

She told herself not to get too attached but in her line of work your overwhelming positivity and constant shenanigans were a welcome change from her often gloomy occupation.

Nat was used to texting you every other day by this point, when she began going on more frequent missions she found herself worrying that you would think she was ghosting you so she told you her work was complicated and sometimes required her to go offline for long periods of time. 

You told her you understood and sent her a meme about the economy before going into a long tangent about how jobs these days expected over achievement with minimal pay and it was outrageous. 

She didn’t quite understand why she was so worried about what you thought of her. Normally she wouldn’t care what anyone thought of her. The other Avengers were lucky if they got a text back from her on the same day- let alone more than a one-worded response.

She guessed maybe it was because she wasn’t used to hearing such good things about herself, the government was scared of what she could do (rightfully), the public had conflicting opinions about her- and most of the time it was only kids that looked at her without any fear or contempt. But you talked about how much you admired her bravery as an Avenger but also as a woman in such a public light with so much pressure on her shoulders. She was the first female Avenger after all.

One evening she made the mistake of telling you she didn’t think ‘Black Widow’ was all that. She had to sit through two hours of angry paragraphs from you and links to several videos of herself from the battle of New York and doing interviews for cable shows. She’d ended up apologizing and agreeing with you that she was the strongest Avenger.

 In reality, she sat on her bed for nearly an hour after your conversations with unshed tears she refused to let fall. That was the exact moment her heart had decided you weren’t a stranger to her anymore- and she didn’t have it in her to argue against it.

Your resilience was a trait she’d learned to admire, especially when it came to her… but not when it came to her choice of colored attire. 

        Y/n🍦:

Y/n🍦:

I’m seriously considering the

possibility of you being a robot.

What do you think?

Nat🔪:

I think you're an ass.

Y/n🍦:

I’m just saying-

gray is so monotone and you’re

Too fierce for that

Nat🔪:

So what color would you give me?

Y/n🍦:

Maybe black?

Hmmm

Nat🔪:

Wow, a striking upgrade

Why not just suggest dark gray?

Or how about light black?

Y/n🍦:

No, you’re obviously too

Sassy for black.

I’m thinking…

Red.

Your ability to perceive Nat through the screen never failed to amaze her. Truthfully she didn’t want to plaster her favorite color over everything because she was scared it would make things too personal. Too homey. But here you were guessing her favorite color just from her online personality. 

Truth be told, this was the most openly herself she’d been in a while. She wondered- if only briefly- if you could guess everyone’s favorite colors that easily-

or just hers.

Nat🔪:

Yeah. 

I can see it.

Nat couldn’t keep the grin from overtaking her face. 

You were something else, weren’t you? 

It was dangerous how easily you could brighten her day.

She found herself not caring as much as she usually would about that.

Pt.8

A/n: I'M BACK FROM THE DEAD!! Sorry I was gone for so long :( i'll keep updating this story as often as possible!!

-------

Taglist

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa

@natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal

@moistblobfish

#marvel #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #fluff #women of marvel #fluff fic #natasha romanoff #mcu fluff #natasha fluff #marvel fluff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha fanfic #natasha marvel #upon a starry night writes #women of mcu #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x y/n #black widow x you #black widow x female reader

[jamiesfootball]

Anyways. Back before season three aired, my working theory for What Ted's Deal was - with his advice to Jamie, with the panic attacks that were layered Jamie and his son - that it would turn out that his late father had also been abusive, but that with his father's death Ted had never processed it.

Obviously the show didn't go that route, but in general these were the points that I was daisy-chaining together to build something of a narrative flow:

Ted preaches kindness and positivity but also struggles with his own repressed anger and inability to be direct in what he wants. He continually, pathologically, puts people before himself, to the point that it's becoming a breaking point in his marriage.

Ted repeatedly praises 'women' for being the more emotionally intelligent of the genders. He looks at toxic masculinity as not just a thing to be examined and overcome, but the root of why men struggle.

He himself is a product of the same toxic male behavior, and while he tries to lead by example as an individual, there's a part of that culture that he almost sees as... natural? Like a foregone conclusion. A lot of his methods for dealing with the team in season one happen within the same social boundaries he decries. If he can get Roy to step up, if he can get Roy and Jamie to stop fighting and call a truce, then everything else will fall in place, because men follow a hierarchical structure. This is How Locker Rooms Work, and-

I always go back to Jamie's first, open receptiveness to Ted's 'one in eleven' speech as the first sign that Ted doesn't know how to deal with things directly. This scene reads as Ted being very taken aback by Jamie's willingness to listen. It has shades of their later scene at the Crown & Anchor in it, with Ted being the one who pulls away from a conversation that has the ability of getting emotionally direct and real.

Ted's repressed anger. His shouting at Jamie in 1x06 over practice, but also his shouting at Nate when Nate tries to stuff the letter under his hotel room door.

Ted emotionally reaches for the bottle like. A noticeable amount of times. But especially when he's getting divorced.

Every Sunday afternoon Ted's father used to take him to a sports bar. From age of 10 til 16.

Ted's mom is completely incapable of being direct

Ted and his mom never processed or talked about his dad's death

Ted looks devastated when he sees Jamie with his father in the boot room, but ultimately walks away

Ted sends Jamie a token to show he's not alone (Ted soldier)

Next time Jamie tries to talk to Ted at the bar, Jamie opens with addressing the subject directly (the Ted soldier) and Ted deflects. Asks about City. Won't look him in the eye. Doesn't say anything to Jamie admitting he left City to piss off his dad. He just says that line about how sometimes having a tough dad is what makes you better.

He thought he knew what he was doing [about Jamie] but Sam 'went and unsettled it.' Some people aren't lucky enough to have good dads.

Ted welcomes Jamie back but keeps his distance (much more than in season 1).

Ted begins having panic attacks that feature Jamie and his son.

Ted admits panic attacks linked directly to his father's death.

So this takes us through season two, and at this point my working theory was what if it turned out that Ted most of Ted's Ted-ness had been an active effort on his own part to become something less like his own father? It would explain his disdain for male-coded behaviors while also explaining why he seems unable to truly break away from them. it would explain his people-pleasing habits (and meeting his mom and knowing she is also allergic to asking for things, I think this could still fit as a trauma response). It would explain his putting women on a pedestal, if he had a bad male role model to begin with. It would explain how his demeanor around Jamie changes so much when they have the 'tough dads' talk turning into something closed off when his body language with Jamie has always been open before (and there's a lovely parallel with how they're both sat at the bar in that shot too). Hell it would add additional weight to that talk if it turned out he was also speaking of himself. His panic attacks would make sense, seeing himself in Jamie but also his son and his own role as a dad.

That, plus Ted being a character we regularly see drinking something harder than wine or beer, usually when he's emotionally stressed. Plus Ted's dad bringing him to a sports bar every Sunday for years, and at a young age too. Plus Jamie's dad being an alcoholic. That's where I thought this was going- I thought it would turn out that the late Lasso had also been an alcoholic and a tough dad. It just seemed the obvious conclustion at the time, to make the Ted & Jamie parallel into a full parallel.

Then you add in the fact that Ted married his college sweetheart and then waited until they were in their thirties before having a kid (In the midwest. Where he definitely would've been pressured about it) and all of this to me added up to a troubled man who struggled with the idea of becoming a father long before he had a son. Someone who spent years creating a facade, pretending (like his mom) that things were okay. Someone who maybe never felt right blaming his dad for any of it, not when it became so clear at the end how much his dad was struggling.

Only to have that facade crumble the second someone else from similar circumstances showed up to challenge it.

His dad was a product of his time, the same way that Ted is a product of his dad, the same way men are just a product of toxic masculinity, and Ted doesn't know how to 'deal' with any of it but he'd thought he'd gotten to the point in life where he had some solutions. Only to find that those solutions didn't work when held up to a mirror.

So yeah. That was my theory. Then season three happened, and I realized that unfortunately my theory had a flaw. See, I was so busy looking for a Watsonian diagnosis that would make Ted's idiosyncrasies make sense, that I completely missed the fact that the problem was Doylist to begin with. The show writers never meant for us to read into all of that, because the show writers themselves didn't see anything contrary, worrisome, or tone-deaf about Ted's behavior. Not from a toxic masculinity standpoint, and certainly not from the standpoint of discussing abuse of a male character.

It's not Ted who dismisses Jamie's dad's abuse. It's the writers. Which unfortunately means, since Ted by extension is the show, that it is Ted. Which is why all of us are left watching scenes like the 'tough dads' scene or the Mom City scene and going-

What the hell, Ted?

#apologies if this is rather rambly #i think i lost the point a few times #anyways here. have an old theory that got axed with the rest of them #though I stand by the idea that Ted also had depression in season three #ted lasso #jamie tartt #ted lasso meta #cw suicide mention #for Ted's dad #cw abuse #for jamie and (in this version) ted's dad #this is the longer version of the previous post that I mentioned in the tags

[darksxder]

do something about it

pairing: fem! avatar reader x avatar jake sully

summary: jake heard you were a forward woman but you never seemed to pick up on his hints. so he decided to make it a little more obvious and pray to god you were as possessive as they said.

warnings: sexual tension like such a ridiculous amount, mentions of oral sex (f receiving), spit play and dom!reader x sub/switch!jake, jealousy, possessive behaviour, description of war and injuries, talk of paralysis

word count: 2k

a.n: my first post after a year would be a jake sully smut coded drabble. its very fitting fr. also requests are open!! please send one besties all my ideas are too long lmao

sdt: @tarrynightss , @sunnybeewriting & more for inspiring me to write for Avatar! Ya’ll are so talented it is scary fr!!! special mention:  @belle82devart for supporting me always :) ilysm words cannot explain!

Jake never thought he would beg to be on his knees for a woman.

There was something about being a marine that bolsters this macho bravado habit where you crave to see a woman bend to your will. Sure the military was not all about 40 degree folded corners and standing up straight around a superior. It was all about strength, dominance and discipline and with  how deep that was ingrained-that translated to the bedroom.

You could take someone out of the marines but they never leave the mindset.

There was always an urge to pleasure a woman with this dominance, the rough hands and firm thrusts of course, but always in the promise of reciprocated bliss.

This was not that.

The second Jake saw your avatar he was done for.

He would have begged on his knees to just see your pussy right then and there if Grace wasn’t there and if he had been robbed of what little self-restraint he still possessed. He swore he drooled the second you pranced out behind Grace that first day. Your hair swishing in tandem with your lean hips as you moved to greet him. The woven nature of your top of beads drawing his eyes down. The adrenaline was still so high. It was just minutes after waking up in a new body- a full body. After he ran out of the facility to the field and training areas, everything was a blur of green and blue.  

He still was revelling in feeling his legs again.

In running and the feeling of the wind whipping past him, the smell of the earth and the way he could scrunch his toes in it, even the feel of a nice deep stretch in his calves. It was magnificent, but the feeling of being given back function of his legs also gave way to new sensations he had missed. And when he saw you nearly march besides Grace, a smile on your face, and sweet welcomes in his ears he felt his hands shake. Your hair in intricate braids and expertly weaved into many waves that fell down your back with your one braid resting along your spine shone like ink in the sun. The light igniting your full figure, sweta glistening on your skin. Your eyes are as bright as your smile. He could smell the fruit Grace hurled at him, smell all of the plants and something sweet. He could hear everything, even if he was tuning you all out as he took in the feeling.  

The sweet scent cut through it all. It made his mouth salivate. He knew it was coming from you.

Grace had noticed his stare that day, and cornered him the next before a link.

“You don’t have much of a chance, marine.” He only scoffed, ignoring the sharp twist of hurt in his gut at her chastising expression as she sat on the edge of the link pod, leaning down.

“How would you know?” He said, shifting in the green gel of the bed on his elbows, face heating.

She only laughed, pushing off the case before shoving his right shoulder down hard, driving his body into the green glue like substance around him. Her crows feet deep as she gave him a mocking smile, eclipsing the light in the bio lab, face not too unkind.

“You would. She’s a very forward one. She makes the first move.”

It felt like more of an order than a bit of well meant advice. But he did not mind. And as the words met his human ears he felt them burn hot. His heart raced as the metal cage-like thing locked him in place.

It took him a full eight minutes for his heart rate to slow down to a normal pace, and for his mind to calm.

Truly it took him more than that. Maybe even 20 minutes before the images of you- shoving him on his knees, lips swollen and bitten, eyes glossy and scent sweet as you straddled him-meant to start rocking against his face left him.

Since then he made it his mission to get you to break.

He first tried jealousy as you trained together in the forest with the People. He flirted with Neytiri every chance he could get, her even playing along after some time but you never bite.

Next step was showing you an obvious submission. This plan took the form of him as he dropped to his knees to tie the harness around your thighs one rainy day before riding. A mumbled ‘let me help you’ was the only thing accompanying the action as his legs met damp earth and his big blue hands smoothed up the back of your thighs to reach the clasps. He had heard your breath hitching, and he had smirked. Smile facing the ground, almost wide enough to break his face. His nose tingled as he had smelled you, taking in a deep inhale as his fingers crept up your inner thighs. He felt a slight brush against his ears. Felt the flutter of the still wind as you moved your hand.

He wanted you to pull his hair. Grab a handful of his braids and yank him up to your level or throw him to the floor like he was nothing. He would be hard even just at the touch he knew,  even if it was a rejection. Because he was hard now.

But he saw you got it, saw you understood the meaning of the getsure as he leaned back on his haunches beneath you, head tilted up, hands and nose buzzing with the memory of you. It was the look you gave him as he looked up. A deep purple settling against the highest points of your cheeks, to the tips of your pointed ears, hair pulled back in a braid, wisps framing your lovely face. This would be it,  he thought. He twitched at the idea.

But your jaw only clenched, anger overtaking your expression for a second until it dimmed to neutral. Indifferent,  and his heart dropped to his ass.

“Nice try, Marine.”

And he stepped to his feet, wobbling just slightly. But you were already moving out of his space, hands wringing as he watched your figure fall away to the long lively plants and trees surrounding both of you.

Hours of training with you and Neytiri in the village turned into months of trying again in between skills acquisitions.

You never broke, not once.

He wouldn't have it.

If Jake Sully was anything, it was not a quitter.

Your first official hunt was the biggest thing in your pathway to joining the Omaticaya people and you were to be ready by midday. The early chirps of wildlife roused you early after linking,  as you stepped from the avatar sleeping station, seeing Jake’s bed was empty. He must have stayed in the villages. And he did, as you saw him when you met the outskirts of the village. In the clearing there was a large group of would-be hunters, all marking themselves up with war paint. Your heart leapt at the sight, chest bubbling the excitement of it all. You rushed over, loincloth tangling in between your legs with your haste as you saw the rainbow of crushed dyes and pastes around the middle, perched on a fallen tree. You went to search for your signature colour, the deep colour that matched your ikran’s most vital colourings. Only to find it gone, its usual spot empty.

Heart sinking, you turned at the sound of Neytiri's laugh. “What, I look funny?” Jake called, one hand stained rusty orange red. His colour.

And the other… oh my god-.

Neytiri met your eyes, smiling harder than you have ever seen before. She knew the meaning. He didn’t. He couldn't have. She wouldn't have told him.

He was- OH MY GOD.

You didn't even remember rushing to them, eyes only locked on his full figure. His abs rippling and muscles strained as he aimed to reach behind his back, which was turned to you. Neytiri said something to the others with a kind hand to his shoulder. What she said you were not sure but they all filled out pretty quickly after it, looks ranging from mischief to alarm.  

Your heart raced as you watched this man. This beautiful stupid man smears the colour all over his face. Something deep within your gut pulled you forward, swooping hard enough to shock you all at the sight. Your hands stretched out as his ears twitched, a smile still on his face as he turned to you. All confusion in his eyes at the lack of people until he registered it was you. The smile swapped for his signature irritating smirk.

“That’s my colour.”

“Yeah. Gonna do something about it?”

Your stomach flipped, dipping low. A huff of air-all that was left in your lungs mixed with a shocked noise fell from your parted lips.

He was still smirking and you slid up to stand taller, shoulders back and head tilting-calculating. Beads in your hair clinking whispers in your twitching ears. Revelling in the flicker of his tail behind him. The shift in his eyes, from cocky to nervous, unsure.

“Yes, I think I will.” And you were fully beside him, close enough to feel his heat.

He was so large. So broad, it startled you every time. Your hands grabbed the wooden bowl filled with the crushed-up herbs and berries of your signature colour. His face dropped, going to take a step back, to backtrack as if he had offended you. As if you had rejected him, his last advance.

But your hands just dipped into the cool slush, smoothing it out with the warmth of your body between fingertips and saddling up to him.

Eywa, he was perfect. Heart beating like a drum against your rib cage, your nose delighting in his signature musky warm scent-like pine and military grade soap.

You placed your hands on his chest. The muscle firm beneath your hands, flexing under your touch. Your lips tilted up, smiling and smirking in tandem as he watched you. His lips parted, double sets of canines poking out.

You wanted to lick them with the tip of your tongue. Prick it against the sharp pearls and bleed, smoothing the taste of metal inside his mouth as you kissed him deeply, marking him. That thought was enough for your knees to grow weak, body pressing your weight into your hands. Your breasts pressed against your arms, forearms bare against his lithe sternum. Eyes met his as you slowly dragged your hands down.

A gasp left his lips, his yellow-green eyes nearly rolling back in his head as your thin fingers trailed down from the clear formed handprints against his pecs, sliding down to his abdomen, the paint drying as you went.

His body involuntarily shuddered as he reached to grab at you. The next thing he knew your wet right hand was wrapped gently around his throat. Windpipe secure in your grip. You held his adam's apple in your hand and you wished to feel it bob. You wished to see him fall to his knees.

Wanted to see him lean in and kiss you. But you knew enough to know that he had placed the reins very firmly in your hands.

So you gripped just slightly, core fluttering at the slick noise the wet paint made as it spread and at his accompanied gasp. The warm forest air against your face burns hotter with your blush as you squeeze just a little harder. Moving him back to have his back against a tree.

You had a picture in your mind of spitting in his mouth then, of tugging his mouth open with your thumb, kicking his legs apart as you made yourself in between them, making him bend further to you, watching his pink tongue loll out in wait for any part of you.

The deep throb at the idea was almost painful with its force and you grimaced. Jake’s subsequent chuckle at your expression had your heartbeat racing as you pressed yoru chet to his, his other hand trapped in between you.

He just smiled.

“You wear my colour well. But I rather see your skin bare. You hear me?” And he nods. Hard, fast and his adam’s apple rubs against your palm. Thankfully a handful of the back of his braid and a quick tug stopped his coming laugh as his lips met yours in a crash. Warm, wet, and beautiful as his lips moved in sync with yours. You led him to lean halfway down with your grip on his throat, on his queue. You possessed all of him now. In this moment and all those next.

He knew it and so did you.

With a harsh tug of his head to the right his neck stretched towards you and you licked a hot line up his throat to his jaw, kissing and nipping hard as you went. His knees nearly collapsed as he gripped the oak behind him, nails digging into the barc, his eyes squeezed closed.

Your lips were petal soft, tickling his ear as you leaned in. “You’re mine. Say it.”

You pulled back just slightly to meet his eyeline, his pupils blown wide and half lidded, in a  haze and only you could put him there. He was still trapped against you and the tree, his throat hot in your hand as he met your look.

“I’m yours.”

He was breathless, truly breathless and pathetic. And you loved him at this moment. Him  struck dumb at your words, and the way you handled him.

“I'm all yours, baby.”

#Jake sully x reader #Jake sully fanfic #Jake slly #avatar:twow #avatar #Jake sully x reader smut #jake sully x fem!reader

[meanbossart]

Asks about VaM, art advice, and miscellaneous stuffs

HI! Real quick please refrain from referring to Sad Sack as S/S for the uh... Obviously reasons LOL We call it "sads" for short!

If what you're asking for are recommendations for a website to host that kind of thing, Neocities, Twitter, Itchio and as you mentioned AO3 are all perfectly good options! Patreon too (depending on how gnarly you're planning on getting) but I'd suggest keeping that as a secondary host option because I don't think it lends itself super well for getting your work circulating. I believe Bluesky allows that kind of thing too, but I'm not too sure since I don't use it.

Now, If you're asking about public reaction rather than guidelines, anywhere you go you might find people that don't jive with the work you do 🤷 just be upfront about the type of content you're making right off the bat to avoid having anyone stumble upon it by accident to the best of your abilities, otherwise, I wouldn't worry too much. I know we're constantly exposed to examples of overwhelming harassment and "dogpilling" happening to others but... Truth be told, most of us won't ever get to the size/internet level of fame where we experience that. I think the threat is a little bit... Overstated, nowadays. Not to mention that most of the time people are getting harassment for things that have nothing to do with their work, and rather relating to their behavior and attitudes. Play smart, be responsible, and be honest! Whatever comes next is in god's hands LOL

Thank you for the ask! Not sure I was of much help 😅 but frankly when you're just starting out it's best to focus on getting the work done first and just throwing it out there, wherever it may be. You can worry about technicalities like that later!

I GOT YOU MAN the full sketch is now up on my patreon!

YES AND YES WHETHER IT BE STORIES OR ART OF DU DROW AND YOUR CHARACTERS SLAMMING PINTS TOGETHER BE MY GUEST PLEASE

I love seeing everyone's take on my weirdo so much, anything is honestly welcomed!

AW DUDE thank you so much! Especially for suffering through the mammoth of a story that ANE turned into - writing has never been my strongest point so I'm always shocked to hear from people that enjoy it 🥲

About the booze question, honestly I'm not picky at all, I usually go by price and by that I mean whatever is cheapest LOL but I prefer a dry white as far as types go.

You only have to pay for it once! You get a code that unlocks the software and all of it's features and you're free to cancel your subscription after that. At some point the code might change or there might be an update that requires subscribing again - but that seems like a very rare occurrence so I wouldn't worry about it.

OH NO I HAVE DEFINITELY TRACED MY OWN REFERENCE BEFORE, but not entire poses! When something is challenging I'll make a point of drawing it out the usual way.

I can remember a couple of instances from Nick and mine's comic where I traced pictures I took of myself, just as a time saving measure. Again like I said in the post, there are several ways to employ tracing your own material that is perfectly acceptable. I have also traced bare-bones 3D backgrounds that I made for the same reasons.

I know you specifically asked about tracing when something's complicated, but I still wanted to be upfront to demystify the practice under different circumstances. The rule of thumb is to never use it when you know it would be inhibiting your skill development!

Happy to hear you wanted to pick up the skill! I definitely understand the urge too LOL since playing BG3 and becoming so invested in the stories and characters my art has improved a ton, simply from forcing me out of my usual style and making me want to capture different moods and scenarios - finding something you're passionate to draw is, frankly a great damn start.

I replied to a bunch of asks asking for pointers and advice a while back, one of the questions was very similar to yours and I still stand behind the advice I gave then. Hopefully you can find something helpful here! https://meanbossart.tumblr.com/post/740543514692173824/some-art-advice-asks-ive-been-meaning-to-reply

HMMM I don't usually think of myself as the best teacher/tutorial guy, but funnily enough I can think of a few things about this topic that I could elaborate on lol. If I do that in the near future, I'll put it up on my patreon (for free as with everything else.)

If there are any specific things about it that you (and anyone else who would be interested in it, for that matter) find challenging and would like for me to focus on, let me know!

---

That's all for now folks, and as usual thank you so much to everyone who's left a nice compliment, word of encouragement or funny tidbit in my inbox as well! I can't reply to you all individually, but I see and read all the messages I get c:

HAVE A LOVELY REST OF YOUR WEEK

#lore asks coming either later today or tomorrow! #I might reply to a few right now/space them out rather than do another compilation #we'll see how I feel about it! #ask compilation

[radiowallet]

Home

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Marcus Moreno Summary: Dieter takes Marcus to a party in the valley. WC: 4.5K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Sexual content. Exclusive M/M dynamics. Written in third-person POV, male protagonists. Anal sex, dirty talk, kissing, cum play, semi-public sex. Small angsty moments. Yearning. So much yearning. AU Marcus Moreno (no wife, no Missy). A lot of purple prose and waxing poetic.

A/N: Hi, hello, it's been a very very long time since I've shared any writing here. I don't have any good excuses other than real-life stressors, mental health and anxiety, and the overall stress of being on Tumblr really really got to me. I'm trying to ease my way back in. Slowly. I've really enjoyed catching up on all the amazing fics you guys have been writing. Thank you to everyone, still here or otherwise. Even when I was off dealing with irl stuff, I could feel the support.

Pretend Alleyways Masterlist II Main Masterlist

For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

Marcus chewed at his nail bed, surveying the house from the backseat of his Uber. It was hardly the first time he’d pulled up to the Sherman Oaks home. He was comfortable with the routine at this point. Tapping in the code for the front gate with practiced ease. The same one Dieter had scribbled onto the back page of a forgotten script after that first night together in New York City, his cell ringing incessantly from his back pocket, a car waiting down the curb to whisk him away. Marcus swore he could still taste the mint and menthol on the actor’s breath when he stepped in close and pressed the paper into his hands, kissing him until his toes curled. 

“Please say you’ll come visit.”

After that, it had been one strategically planned visit after the other. Marcus was almost mathematical in his process, arranging flights out west around his patrol schedule, switching shifts, and taking on extra duties just to rationalize the time away. Burning the candle at both ends but not caring even in the slightest, happy to run his tank on empty. He’d drive all fucking night if it meant more time with Dieter. 

So he took to the task with a vigilant level of focus, texting details and arrival times, the actor responding with a barrage of emojis, always ending with a heart. 

Marcus liked the way the little pixelated picture made his stomach flip.

Once together, it became less of a routine and more of a dance, the two of them falling into an easy rhythm that Marcus had no desire to predict. They would lose themselves in each other, wrapping tightly around the other, the heat impossible to turn away from. There were late nights and early mornings, the color of the sun replacing the hours on the clock. Sometimes, he would give up on sleep all together, content to match the actor’s eccentricities, watching Dieter move from room to room, minute to minute, until the other man would return to his arms. 

But as each visit came to a close, Marcus would find himself falling back on easy habits, his mind already making plans and rearranging schedules, focusing on that instead of the overbearing weight of goodbye. 

In the middle of one farewell, Dieter had grinned and nipped at his bottom lip, a tease curling around the curve of his cheek. 

“Don’t worry so much about the vigilante shit, sweet boy. You’re welcome anytime.”

Marcus had frowned at that, but Dieter was unfazed, humming an off-key pop song under his breath before giving one more piece of advice. 

Be spontaneous. 

Marcus had gnawed on those two words the entire plane ride home, the concept both enticing and diabolical at once. He imagined all the ways he would have spoiled Dieter if they lived in the same zip code. Spur of the moment cups of coffee, flowers just because, nights in and out and everything in between. But even those daydreams felt out of reach, Marcus unable to let go of the need to control everything. Everything. Everything that he possibly could. 

Except Deiter Bravo. 

The actor was bound for overseas, a six-month shoot looming ahead, lonely and large. They had spent the weekend before much the same way they had any other. Twisted together, sweat and cum and lips and hands pressed into bare skin, ignoring the ticking of traitorous time. Cruel miles were taking the other man away from him, and Marcus couldn’t stop the swell of jealous fear flaring inside his heart. 

Would he even be missed when the whole luminous, wonderful, exciting world was waiting for Dieter on the other side of the tarmac? 

A deep cough from the front seat dragged him back to the present, and before he could second guess himself again, Marcus climbed out of the car, tapping out five stars with one hand and grabbing his overnight bag with the other. He hesitated, just the smallest moment of debate, before he knocked, three sharp raps on the large black door. There was a shout from inside, Dee’s voice alerting someone he would get it, a breath and a curse as the lock was fiddled with, and then they were standing face to face after only 39 hours apart. 

Dieter seemed shocked to see him and he didn't bother hiding it, his jaw dropping in time with his arms, the shirt he had been buttoning hanging open to reveal his bare chest. Marcus couldn’t help but steal a glance of tan skin and a soft belly, licking his lips in anticipation. When Dee called his attention back up, the other man was smiling wide. 

“This is…”

“A surprise?”

“A great fucking surprise.” 

It was almost a blur after that. Fumbling hands and broken laughter as they came together in a messy kiss. They managed to make it up the stairs and down the hall, Dieter’s bed barely breaking their fall. 

Marcus wanted to take his time, should have been taking his time, but Dieter’s voice was in his ear, thanking him — thanking him? — for showing up tonight. Thanking him and begging him and pressing salt-slicked lips into the curve of his neck. And before he could breathe the other man in, savor the moment that was coming out of nowhere, they stripped away each and every layer, Dieter panting beneath the hurried press of Marcus’s fingers deep inside. 

Sooner rather than later, Marcus was sliding into the other man one final time, their hips flush and their fingers laced. He came with a groan, face buried into the dip of Dieter’s neck, while the actor sunk his teeth into his shoulder, the pleasure burning away into the edges of pain. Only after they both found their breath, bodies pliant and limbs loose, did Marcus find his voice. 

“Do you want to order in?”

Dieter didn’t say anything and Marcus craned his neck up to peek past the other man’s chin and catch a glimpse of him worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Did you already eat? Because that’s okay.”

“No…,” he started, fingers tracing a line of muscle from the top of his shoulder and back around, lingering along the teeth marks he left there only minutes earlier. “I haven’t eaten. I…there’s this thing I have to….well, not have to. I was getting ready for it when you knocked—“

“Dee?”

“There’s a party,” he finally blurted out, eyes finding the swing of the ceiling fan above, a grimace pulling his lips into a jagged line, a deep shade of pink settling on his cheeks. 

Marcus leaned up on his elbow, watching the small battle of wills dragging across Dieter’s face. He thought maybe he should try to comfort the other man but he was suddenly anxious, those creeping realities working their way up his spine. 

“A party?”

“Yeah, it’s sort of this farewell thing my friends are throwing,” he explained, not needing to. “Really, just an excuse to get blitzed.” 

The lack of eye contact suddenly made much more sense. 

“You wanted to go.”

It wasn’t a question. 

Dieter was up and over him in a flash, one large hand bending around Marcus’s jaw, thumb pressing the seam of his lips shut. “I didn’t want to be alone.” 

Marcus pursed his lips, the pad of Dieter’s thumb still pressing firm. He felt the callous from where Dee cheated his paintbrush, a perfect spot to push a kiss before pulling away. 

“You want to go.”  

Dieter searched his face, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, trying to pull apart the determined set of Marcus’s jaw. When he came up empty-handed, he fell back to his elbows with an exaggerated sigh, one large hand still cupping the cut of the hero’s cheekbone, keeping his thumb close enough to touch. 

“I want to go with you.” 

———————

Marcus smiled from where he was leaning against the doorway, watching Dieter rummage through his ridiculously sized closet, a string of muttered musings leaving him as he pulled item after item off of hangers. The Heroic had slipped back into his jeans and t-shirt once the decision had been made that they would attend the party together, not really packing (or owning) anything that fit the L.A. scene. 

He was two steps towards the bathroom, intent on fixing his messy hair when Dee stopped him with a strong grip on his elbow. 

“Leave it,” he teased, a quick kiss pressed to his lips, fingers tugging at one of the sweat-slicked curls. 

Now he was standing behind him, sliding a stone-washed jean jacket up one arm and then the other, one more kiss, this time gifted to the back of his neck. The jacket hangs a bit loose around him, Marcus guessing a mix between the cut and style, and Dieter’s broader frame both at play. He couldn’t help himself, tugging the collar to his nose and inhaling deeply, the smell of weed and cologne and something subtle sweet filling his lungs. 

He felt Dieter’s eyes, watching him carefully in the reflection of the mirror, his hands finding the dip of his waist beneath the bulky fabric, gripping hard then soft, one, two, three times. Marcus took in the pair of them — sex-mussed hair and bright blush on him, wild eyes, and a teasing smile on Dieter — and he suddenly had no desire to go to this party. Any party. 

No. 

All he wanted was for Dieter to pull this jacket off the same way he had so easily slipped it on, and drag him back down to the safety of the mattress. 

“Come on, sweet boy,” he hummed, the hook of his nose tracing the shell of Marcus’s ear. “Sooner we get there, sooner I get to take you home.”

The word followed Marcus down the stairs and out to the car, his stomach flipping each time he let the meaning of it roll around inside his head.

Home?

———————

Driving in L.A. was an experience in and of itself. Marcus had made his own attempts, managing to find a rhythm in the few times he had been sent out to the west coast on assignment. It wasn’t much different than driving in any other city, as long as you were prepared to sit in what felt like endless hours of traffic. Of course, Marcus had the pleasure of abusing side streets and off-ramps when it came down to emergency situations. 

Driving with Dieter behind the wheel was a different experience altogether. He seemed unfettered by speed limits or traffic lights, one hand on the wheel, the other wrapped around Marcus’s knee, singing along to the song on the radio but only getting about half the words right. If not for his powers and years of honing his reflexes, Marcus would have maybe suggested he do the driving when he was in town. 

As it was, it was nice to settle into the plush leather seat and listen to Dieter’s slightly off-key voice, his hand squeezing Marcus’s knee in time with the beat of the music. He leaned back and closed his eyes, weighing the risk of asking Dieter to just keep driving. Maybe if they kept going, all night and all day, they could avoid the inevitable goodbyes looming in the distance.

———————

The last time Marcus and Dieter had been at a party together, they had only ever heard of each other, recognizing names and faces from newspapers and movie screens. They didn’t know any different than what was said in headlines or plastered on billboards, rumors and hearsay coloring in their opinions of one another. How many assumptions had Marcus made about the actor upon that first meeting? That he was pompous. Self-centered. Selfish. An addict. An asshole. A monster. 

Or maybe Marcus was afraid that was how Dieter saw him. 

The monster in the night. The shadow that lurked in the corner. Fighting away the evils of the world, the palms of his hands so very dirty with blood and secrets and violence. Living in the between of good and bad and never knowing where he really stood.

But when their eyes met across that darkened alley, only the glow of Dieter’s cigarette casting shadows between them, those half-truths and packaged lies that Marcus took for granted started to fall away. Somewhere between their small secrets and one smokey kiss goodnight, he started to learn who Dieter Bravo really was. 

This party was different in so many ways than that first elegant affair. Gone was the light classical music, replaced with something loud, a heavy bass and fast lyrics. Bowls of chips instead of passed trays. Stiff black and white was traded in for soft denim, Dieter’s scent surrounding Marcus from room to room. They entered the party together, no longer separate, no longer strangers, and instead more.

So much more.

Dieter’s arm was wrapped around Marcus’s waist, holding him close by his side as they navigated the packed mansion. The crowd parted around them, little waves of people ebbing and flowing to make room for the two men, boisterous cheers of joy raining down upon them. Dieter preened beneath the attention, his smile wide and his cheeks warm, the hand wrapped around Marcus’s waist squeezing hard to grab the Heroic’s attention. 

“They like to make a fuss,” he hummed into Marcus’s ear. 

He couldn’t help but cock his own grin back, turning his head just enough to brush his lips along the shell of Dieter’s ear, delighting in the shiver that followed. “I think you like the fuss.” 

———————

They get separated about an hour in, an inevitability between the number of people vying for Dieter’s attention and the sheer size of the house. Marcus excused himself to the bathroom, trying and failing not to be annoyed when the first empty one he found was on the opposite end of the party. By the time he made it back to where he left Dieter, the other man had moved, now sitting on a couch, friends and fans alike draped around him. 

There was something strange about watching Dieter Bravo in what some would consider his natural habitat. He was bright and shiny and impossible to look away from. He almost looked relaxed, his arms thrown over the back of the sofa and his legs stretched out long, only the tap tap tap of his heel giving him away.

Marcus wanted to insert himself. To crowd himself beside the other man and press his palm to the bend of his knee in hopes of soothing away the small tremor of anxiety, but he hesitated, his own worries holding him in place. So he stayed where he was, back glued to the wall, arms crossed and frown firm, as he tried to decipher the scene playing out in front of him. 

Was Dieter’s laugh real just then? Or was the one Marcus had teased out of him hours prior? The sounds seemed so similar, a copy of a copy that looked and felt and sounded real. Were his cheeks pink because he preferred their attention over Marcus’s? Or was it because this room was too damn hot? What did it mean when Dieter touched her knee? Or kissed his cheek? Or leaned a little bit more into their touch? 

And why did Marcus care? 

He didn’t consider himself a jealous man. 

But it almost felt inevitable, the dark tendrils of jealousy seemingly always present, ever since that fateful moment in the alleyway, smoke and secrets traded away for unspoken promises for more. Marcus clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes, watching the other man glow beneath the attention of others. Was it merely a reflection back of the attention poured upon him? The mirrors of a disco ball catching in the light and shining for the delight of others? Or was Dieter just enjoying another moment in the limelight? 

Marcus couldn’t seem to see the line between real and fake, or what side he stood on. 

Someone handed him a drink in the midst of his brooding, and the sting of the alcohol paired well with his bitter mood. He was trapped in a hell of his own making, refusing to look away from the crowd gathered around Dieter, but hating every second of it. 

The jealousy burned inside of him. What had just been something dark mingling in the background was now present and in full force. Marcus was jealous. Jealous at how effortlessly Dieter lived his life, able to navigate crowds and fame and fervor without ever breaking a sweat. Jealous at how his smile seemed just as bright as it had when he opened his door hours earlier. Jealous at how someone else held the attention of his sweet brown eyes. 

And suddenly there was fear. Icy cold and horrifying reality. 

Marcus didn’t belong here. Here with these pretty people and their clean lines and bright lights. He was messy edges and dirty hands, stained with years of violence that would never scrub clean. There was dirt on his ledger and red on his chest, and Dieter was beautiful. So very very beautiful.

Another wave of panic gripped tight at Marcus’s throat. 

When was the last time he told Dieter he was beautiful? Yesterday? Or the day before that? Either way, it wasn’t enough. Not nearly. And he couldn’t fathom a world where he lost the chance to say it again. 

He couldn’t lose this. He couldn’t lose him. 

The lights above them flickered, an unwelcome side effect of his superpowers, Marcus’s unruly emotions too much to handle all at once. It was just enough to drag everyone’s attention up, stealing their eyes away from Dieter, but only briefly. The actor caught his gaze in the small interim, brows pinched and lips curved, his sharp mind putting the puzzle together. Marcus blushed beneath the scrutiny, feeling very much like a child caught in the midst of a crime. He slammed the cup down on the nearest surface he could find and shoved his dirty hands in the pockets of Dieter’s jacket, and turned away, the lights flickering one last time as he made a quick and embarrassing exit. 

From behind he could hear the shout of a stranger.

“Hey, Dee where’s your boyfriend headed?”

Marcus was so focused on the fact that someone else called him ‘Dee’ that he missed the way Dieter's eyes lit up at the word boyfriend.

The bathroom he had found earlier was blissfully empty, and he took care to lock the door behind him. He braced himself against the sink, the cool porcelain a balm to the heat of his palms, breathing in and out, sharp and fast, to match the beat of his heart. A knock came seconds later, Dieter’s voice chasing the sound. 

“Let me in, Marcus.”

It didn’t sound like a request.

Marcus unlocked the door with a flick of his wrist, and the actor slipped in, eyes pinning him in place as he locked the door behind him. For a moment both of them refused to speak, 2 feet of space between them, and enough silence to last a lifetime. It was Dieter who finally broke the tension, stepping forward until Marcus was within his reach, the palm of his hand cupping his cheek to keep him close.

“Flattered as I am, I can’t decide if I like jealous on you or not.” 

Marcus knew it was foolish to lie at this point. If his fucking superpowers hadn’t given him away, then storming off surely had, and any denial would have rung hollow. Besides, they had promised. Months ago, in an opulent hotel room, cum and sweat sticking them together. They promised to always be honest with each other. 

“I don’t belong here, Dee.”

“Shut up.” The sentiment came out as a tease, the tip of Dieter’s thumb tracing the stubble along Marcus’s cheek, but the look on his face was serious. 

Marcus shook his head, unsure how to say what had seemed so clear to him only minutes ago. “I’m not…I’m not g–”

“I swear to fucking all, if you say the word ‘good,’ Moreno.”

His mouth clamped shut, and he smiled for the first time since he left Dieter’s side earlier in the night. The other man yanked him in for a quick kiss, only pulling a breath away when he spoke again.

“You are better than all of us, sweet boy. Please tell me you know that?”

Marcus wanted to shake his head in disagreement, the very idea that Dieter saw the good in him too much to bear, but the actor was already kissing him again, lips slanting sweetly along his own. When they broke apart for the second time, Dieter said it again, and then again, each time pairing a kiss with his words. Marcus thought maybe he would have kissed him a hundred times and then a hundred more, praise and adoration passed between them until the inevitable end of time caught up. 

But then Dieter crowded in closer, kissing him with much more fervor, his intent clear. Hands scrambled as belts were tugged free and pants were pulled down, bodies twisting until Marcus was plastered to Dieter’s back. He slipped inside the broader man easily, still slick with his release from earlier. Dieter whined at the stretch, pressing back into Marcus, fingers curling around the edge of the bathroom counter as he began to beg. 

“Hard, baby. Please.”

Marcus nipped at Dieter’s ear, refusing to move, the entire length of him buried to the hilt inside him. “How hard?” 

“Hard,” Dieter begged again, squirming in Marcus’s tight grip. “Hard as you can. Need to feel you. F-feel so good.”

It was an intoxicating rush, reducing Dieter Bravo to stumbling pleas and wanton moans, and Marcus swore as long as he was able to pull air into his lungs he refused to take that feeling for granted. He pressed a soft kiss to Dieter’s skin and gently nudged his nose to the back of his head, coaxing his gaze up to meet Marcus’s in the mirror. 

He dragged his hand up Dieter’s chest, stopping to feel the steady thump of his heart, one, two, three beats, before moving up to wrap his fingers around the other man’s throat. He whined again, writhing to and fro, the sound more pitiful with each passing second that Marcus refused to move. 

“I’ve got you, mi cielo. I’ve got you,” he hummed the promise, pressing another kiss to Dieter’s sweat-damp curls. He squeezed the actor’s throat again, watching as his cock seemed to pulse in time with the action. He bit back his own groan, his own cock painfully hard where he was buried inside the other man. 

“M-marcus…please…”

When he finally moved, it was slow, almost torturous for the both of them, but Marcus refused to be rushed. Not this time. Fuck any and everyone who dared to knock on that door. That dared to interrupt them. That dared to break between this moment. He pulled the other man closer, one arm wrapped around his waist, the other still gripping tight to his throat. Dieter’s hands were still scrambling, designer soaps and over-priced products falling to the floor as he seeked some sort of leverage. He finally found it, stonewashed denim bunching between his fingers as he dug them into Marcus’s forearms.

And only then did Marcus give into his request, snapping his hips as hard as he could, teeth sinking into the curve of Dieter’s neck. There would be bruises, bad ones, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, too overwhelmed at the thought of marking the other man as his own. Dieter didn’t seem to mind either, begging Marcus again and again to give him everything he had. 

“Want to feel it,” he sobbed, the pleasure just on the other side of pain. “Want to feel you when I’m gone. Please.” 

“You will, baby. I promise,” Marcus growled. “You’ll feel me for days. You won’t forget me. P-please… don’t forget me.” 

The admission fell out of Marcus before he could stop it, along with his own broken sobs to match. The pain and tears burst to life, the broken pieces he had hidden all over his body finding new life as he begged Dieter to take it all with him. Each slam of his hips and bruising touch of his hands. Every bite from his teeth and kiss from his lips. The words and the promises and the things neither of them knew how to say but felt all the same. 

“Take me with you, Dee. Please, take me with you.” 

“I will, sweet boy,” he gasped, his body shaking beneath Marcus’s anguished hands. “Sweet boy. Good boy. I promise.”  

Dieter came first, though Marcus wasn’t sure how, his sobs and sighs of pleasure long past any sort of coherence. His cock twitched and pulsed, coming completely untouched. Marcus watched Dieter’s face break apart in the reflection of the mirror, his brown eyes wild and skin flushed, lips parting around a feral scream. 

Marcus fell apart in kind, sparks of heat bursting at the base of his spine as tight velvet squeezed around him, Dieter’s voice in his ear, his jacket sticking to his skin. He spilled inside the other man, tears and spit and snot pressed into Dieter’s neck, little words of praise coaxing him through the brunt of it. Eventually, the tears turned to laughter, the two of them clinging tighter as they made guesses at how many people heard them.

“Either way, I hope they enjoyed the show because I sure did,” Dieter teased, nipping his teeth on the hinge of Marcus’s jaw. 

They did a piss poor job of cleaning up, Dee’s cum barely wiped clean from the porcelain with a towel found below the counter, too high a thread count for something so filthy but neither man really gave two shits to look for an alternative. The products were tossed haphazardly into the sink, the idea of stacking them neatly ridiculous. They both agreed; you get what you ask for when you throw a party in the valley. 

Marcus took better care when it came time to clean Dieter up. He warmed up the water from the sink as best he could, using that same fancy towel from before to wipe up the trickle of cum slipping slowly down his backside. He couldn’t stop from stealing one small indulgence, using his thumb to press some of himself back inside the other man, Dieter’s legs visibly shaking from the sudden stimulation. Marcus shushed him with a soft kiss to one of the many bite marks littered across his neck, humming out a quiet apology.

“Do they hurt?”

“They do,” Dieter grinned, tilting his chin to admire the marks as he tugged his jeans up over the swell of his ass. “I’m gonna need a few more before I get on that plane tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmmm, definitely.” 

Dieter pressed something hard into Marcus’s hand and when he looked down he could see it was his car keys, the silver teeth catching in the light. 

“Take me home, sweet boy. I have plans for you.”

There was that word again, breathed out so easily, like a promise he knew he would keep. 

Home. 

#Marcus Moreno #Dieter Bravo #Marcus Moreno fic #Dieter Bravo fic #Marcus Moreno x Dieter Bravo #mlm #we can be heroes #the bubble #pedro pascal characters

[kingdoms-and-empires]

Hey, wanted to say I am in love with your work. Really fantastic! May I ask: Do you have any pieces of advice for inspiring CoG writers or Interactive Fiction writers? Thank you and can't wait for more.

Im absolutely welcome these types of asks as they help remind me of what ive learned myself. Im going to try and say what i think every aspiring writer should hear to help them start out. Here we go: 1) Ensure you know what how much youre writing from the very beginning and plan accordingly. If it is a smaller story, do not be super ambitious, use it as a starter game to learn the basics of choicescript and learn the social media aspect of producing a title. If it is a large story, say over 800k words long, then you NEED to have an outline for each arc to help you know A to B for the story beats. Make outlines upon outlines and you will be doing yourself a favor. ESPECIALLY when coding. 2) THIS ISNT LIKE WRITING TRADITIONAL NOVELS. Know that Interactive Fiction is frustrating to write. You can write 3k words for a choice group, and players will only see 500 words or less worth of content for that choice group. Do not feel disheartened, for it is what it is. Just know youre doing a good job providing content and playable interaction with choices! Just be aware and mindful of not injecting bad or useless content in these choices! Have it matter in some way, either to represent/flesh out the world, characters, who the MC is, consequences, relationship changes, and foreshadowing.

3) Do not get too caught up with reader interaction. Your main job is to write write write. Create a hard limit for how many asks you answer, how much time you spend interacting with readers, and know what type of questions you should answer. Simply put: Be strategic! There may be a great question, but it could be too spoilery or it could take too much of your time to answer. 4) I learned this the hard way. Do not release information about the ROs until you actually reach the part in the story we meet them. If i can go back in time, i wouldnt have announced mine so soon haha. Youre gonna be eager to share your work and talk about it, but youll only be shooting yourself in the foot with people who only seek romance from your game! Also, dont overshare about em. You could retcon something and a reader may get upset with the change. Keep it simple! 5) Set low goals. Do not overpromise. You will feel guilty for failing and it may/will affect you mentally and your willingness to write. 6) You are not perfect, and that's okay!!! I struggle with this (and honestly everything ive listed here), but reminding yourself that its okay to not be perfect will help. You're human. It's hard to remember, and take it seriously, but you have to try. 7) Choice of Games (and more specifically Hosted Games) offer amateur writers a chance to share their work with others. Though games are becoming more and more expansive and huge, don't feel like you HAVE to do the same. A Mage Reborn is widely considered to be one of the best titles to have come out in recent years, and is listed at having 160k words! Small package (160k is by no means small in any capacity, dont get it twisted) big impact! 8) Know what type of game and title youre writing. If your project is focused on romance, dont spend more than necessary on worldbuilding, action, or thematically unrelated things. Stick to what the focus is, and your strength! 9) Ask for help. Seriously. You are combining coding and writing, so there's bound to be errors and things you wont understand. The CoG forums and Twine communities are always ready to help. Reach out to the communities or other authors for help. Just remember that some may be too busy to really help, so don't feel disheartened if one doesnt have the time. There are others, and you usually only need one to say yes to help figure out what youre struggling with or why you keep getting that error message. 10) Understand that you are giving a piece of your soul out there. It sounds corny as hell, but it's the simple truth. There is literal risk involved as a creator, no matter if you write, develop, draw, sing, perform, etc. There's obviously the risk of spending too much time on a hobby or dream for too little gain, but what im referring to is the all too common story of a creative putting their heart and soul into something important to them, and receiving no attention or being told it sucks. It will damage you, and perhaps even break you. Because again, you may have given it your all. So please take care of your mental health. It's okay to retreat and stop for a while. That doesnt make you a failure. Most of us creatives do this because we love the subject, and want to share what we can with others that love the industry, hobby, or topic theyre in. Remember that love, and remember what made you fall in love enough to put yourself out there. Remember you started for the art and craft.

#kingdomsandempires #interactive fiction #authors of tumblr

[thynisia-pac-readings]

PAC - What brings joy to you? How to bring joy to yourself?

[please do not copy or reproduce any part of this reading, thank you]

This reading is meant to assist you in connecting with the vibration and experience of joy. While this is for guidance, it is also meant to be fun. These groups are collectives, so take what resonates only!

I'm happy you chose to read this pick-a-pile, and may it bring you closer to the light within you. 🌻

Now slowly take 3 deep breaths. Ask your guardian angel to help you find the relevant pile for you and let your intuition guide you throughout this reading. Enjoy!

---

Pile 1

Signs: pay attention to yourself. apple. justice served. I love you. India, US.

Pile 1!!!! Pile 1, pile 1, pile 1. As I shuffled the cards, I found myself singing. I can bet most of you find joy in singing freely, and even a card fell, backing this up.

I'm also getting that to find joy is to find bliss, and to find bliss is to find joy. That is what joy means to you, pile 1. For you, bliss can be found in your peace and quiet, it can be felt through the divine and experienced during meditations. Being by yourself and not talking, is healing for you. It also helps you to get in touch with yourself as well as your divine team. Again very healing, centering, and therefore it's easier for you to feel that bliss and joy.

Someone here could have a bird or parrot, I think your bird is funny AF and makes you laugh a lot.

Some of you may be close to a grandparent, and so the advice here is to spend time with them as it is a very good way for you to bring joy to yourself (and them!).

We've got the romance card so some of you may feel most joyful when you're in a relationship. But mostly, what I'm getting is that being there for people and supporting them is what brings you joy, always - whatever kind of relationship that is! I feel like you bring out the light within people, the angelic aspect they didn't know they had. That tells a lot about you too, pile 1.

Back to the singing, I also feel like it helps you release a ton of heavy stuff (feelings, painful memories...) that you don't want trapped in you or that you don't want to carry anymore. It also helps you to unleash your true self. There's definitely an element of transformational healing there with singing or songwriting, and the divine is strongly encouraging you to keep doing that.

Some of you could be singing with your own family members. For some, singing is a key characteristic of a side of your family since many generations! How cool is that!!

If you want to purchase a reading from me check my masterlist or go straight to my Etsy listings here. discount code: TUMBLR

---

Pile 2

signs: having fun adventures, taking joy in learning, living freely and passionately (see moon & mars in Aries and Sagittarius). Brazil, India, NZ, South Pacific, UK. 44.

I saw deep blue as I was shuffling the cards (in my mind's eye), and sure enough most of the cards had a deep blue in them. I also sensed some sadness from this collective. This deep blue could mean something to you, or it could just represent this sadness of yours.

For this Pile, the divine is asking to bring forth your patience in things, as joy will definitely find you. It seems like you really struggle with it at the moment, so this reading is a welcome guidance for you and I am happy that you chose to read it. :)

For your collective, the divine seems to highlight the importance of patience and growth. They are asking you to cultivate yourself, cultivate discipline/persistence and cultivate patience as good things are headed your way while you practice this cultivation. You could find it useful to listen to monks' wisdom and how they cultivate themselves on patience, discipline, persistence, as well as how they face challenging experiences. Preferably, find books written by them on the subject, as they can freely explain everything. YouTube videos cut many parts out and are nowhere as comprehensive/rich as the monks' own books.

Finally, you are asked to trust yourself as you navigate through the difficult path you are walking on. It is not easy and sometimes you may feel like you are losing balance, but listen; even the whole universe is in a constant fight for balance. Complete balance between the light and the shadow does not exist and that's what makes the universe alive! You are the universe too, you are a spark of God/Creator, and hence it is perfectly normal for you, like all of us, to continually try to find a balance. It's all part of the experience, you beautiful wise soul. And what can be more amazing than knowing that we are alive, that we are all experiencing joys and pains, just like the universe is both made of light and dark..!!

If you want to purchase a reading from me check my masterlist or go straight to my Etsy listings here. discount code: TUMBLR

---

Pile 3

signs: someone is named Grace and it's for a reason - maybe your mother named like this on purpose, Pile 3 you could have a very gentle voice that soothes people, there's a lot of kindness in your voice as I have myself talking this way throughout your reading (yes I talk out loud during my readings). traveling could be a source of joy. US, Australia, UK.

A lot to unpack here (in a good way) but it's also pretty clear to me. It feels like you are Earth angels or Starseeds, I mean to everyone you're literally like a light sent on Earth. You yourself feel like you have a lot of love and care to give to people, so much so that you want to make of it your career. So take it as a sign if that's what you've been thinking about.

The divine are really highlighting that you have a strong connection to your intuition and that a major purpose of it is to be used in service to others. You are divinely guided, and you definitely have your own mission or purpose in this life on Earth, which is to assist and guide others towards their inner light, their inner spark of Creator/Source.

You may be hesitating at the moment but trust your intuition, you will find joy on the path that the divine accompanies you on. Worry not, whatever path you chooses, the divine will always support you. However this reading is about what brings you joy and how you can bring joy to you. ;)

Now that's out of the way, let me indulge in the feeling I got from you Pile 3! It's a secret shh, but you're my favourite pile of the 3! xD

I got this really sweet, caring and loving energy from your collective, it's beautiful! Your spark is really focused on assisting others, which makes me think you're more likely an angelic aspect than a starseed. You love others but you also let others love you - and by letting them love you, you are helping them to nurture and express these energies more! In other words, people feel safe to express these caring energies towards you as well.

In terms of vibration, love and joy are not so far off from each other and they are actually interconnected, aren't they? :)

So there you go Pile 3, keep true to yourself and your values, keep shining your light (love) inside out, keep hugging others within your angel wings ~

If you want to purchase a reading from me check my masterlist or go straight to my Etsy listings here. discount code: TUMBLR

---

Obviously, this type of reading is amazing to do because you're bathing in the energy you're reading about! Amazing. Again I hope you enjoyed. Let me know what piles you got and what your thoughts are~

Thynisia <3

This reading was done partly through cartomancy, divine channeling and my personally made paper note signs. I thank Source, Gaia, and all of our higher selves and guardian angels for supporting and blessing this reading. 🙏🏼

#oracle #tarot #card reading #divination #pick a card #tarot reading #oracle reading #pac #pick a pile #psychic reading #channeling #healing #joy #yellow #yellow aesthetic #pick a group #pick a picture #pick an image #confirmation signs #thynisia #angel #starseed #divine guidance #happiness #tarotblr #tarot community #free reading

[pumpkzsafeplace]

bear and babbles 🧸ྀི⋆˚✿˖°

welcome to the first episode of bear and babbles!! we're both super duper excited for this new segmeant! leave any questions below, teheh! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა.

key code │ 🧸 - daddy │ 🍼 - pumpkin.

what is bear & babbles!

bear & babbles is a cute thing that we decided to create to help talk about agere in a safe environment! we will be answering questions (both me & daddy!) and answering some emails!!

i think it'll be fun to see both point of views too, from a little (and someone who struggles with mental health) + a caregiver whose been in the role for a while now.

all emails will be addressed anonymously, please don't include real names!

today's email: opening up

This email is centered around opening up to other people. They are new to the agere & little community & they want a cg and little friends, but the thought of opening up & being vunerable makes them really uncomfortable. Can we give them some advice? send ur own email: lil_bee_bambi @ hotmail.com (no spaces).

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

🍼 : i'm sorry that you're feeling like that :< i know exactly how it feels though, honestly! even now, after being with daddy for 4 years I struggle with vunerability & opening up about things. i'd suggest that you go at a slow pace, don't overwhelme yourself & don't try and do everything at once.

remember that everyone's regression journey is different, you can go at your own pace and fit in things that make your regression a little eaiser. for example, if you do get a caregiver but still feel a little shy at opening up about things- then you can create code words with one another, so that both of you know 'in your own private language' how you both feel in that moment, same with friends.

i'd also make sure to positively re-inforce everything that you're doing, all the small steps your making. for example, if you make a little friend application or cg one and then turn your phone off for the rest of the night and treat yourself to a tv show you like, or hobbies you enjoy.

things can be really daunting at first, but you can make those leaps for yourself, i promise <3.

🧸 : I think Opening up to new people is a must in life, as much as I struggle with it myself. I find that I can do so but Once I've found someone I'm happy to be around I close up a lot more as I'd rather nurture and protect my positive connections than try to find more connections.

It can be a thin line to walk as you shouldn't overshare or brick wall people; but the only way to figure it out is to do it. Even if you come across awkward or struggle with it, the people who actually matter in your life will always stick along with you as you learn and grow. I believe in fate and that you'll form those connections you're destined to as long as you do everything in your power to do so (Not in desperation but in curiosity).

Basically just be you, I know its cheesy but its true. When I first met Pumpkin I was so awkward it hurts to think about, but they stuck around with me as I grew and learned how to be myself more, which has built my confidence immeasurably.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

i hoped this helped!! <3

if you want to send an email for us to respond to, or if you have any quick fire questions you wanted answered more in depth, leave a comment or send an email using the address below!!

gif isn't mine

#sfw age regression #sfw little community #sfw agere #agere little #sfw little post #sfw little blog #age regression #agere community #agere blog #safe agere #age regression blog #age regressor #age regressive #age re safe space #age re blog #agere sfw #ageregression #sfw agereg #agere lifestyle #agere #sfw regression #sfw post #sfw little stuff #sfw furry #sfw littlespace #sfw interaction only #petre #sfw #sfw blog #sfw little one

[thekatebridgerton]

hello followers, and welcome to another episode of 'on a scale of 1 to 8' bro code edition. In which I rank the Bridgerton men from to absolutely worst bro to best bro ever. here it goes

8) Benedict: when it comes to Sophie, This dude breaks all the rules of the bro code, he is totally a) willing to throw other bros under the bus if he can spend time with her b) failing at wingman duty c) willing to withhold sensitive information from the bros if it means he gets to keep Sophie a secret and I don't know, in AOFAG He just gives off that kind of vibes, that not only would he be willing to date a bro's ex GF, if that GF was Sophie, he'd be the one causing the breakup in the first place.

7) Simon: self explanatory, he hooked up with his bro's little sister, which is totally against the bro code, he's putting Daphne before ANY bro night out and refusing to defend any of his bros if their significant others are attacking them. Simon, however, would not date a bro's ex GF, which makes him a little better than Benedict. He wouldn't even hook up with Sienna. so he gets bro points for that. Also, we all know Simon is also capable of stealing other people's GF, just because he's never done it doesn't mean the rest of his bros are okay with leaving their GF alone while he's in attendance.

6) Anthony: Like all Bridertons, exept Benedict, he IS an excellent wingman, and can keep the secrets of a bro. BUT he's a coward when it comes to his wife, so he would totally throw a bro under the bus if it got him out of trouble with Kate and we all know it. Does NOT believe in bros before girls, does NOT believe in defending bros. But he will bail a bro (most likely Gregory) out of jail while lecturing that they deserved it. When it comes to dating, the only help the bros get from Anthony is a list of who are the crazies that need to be avoided, on everything else, except parenting advice, the bros are on their own.

5) Gregory: I feel like Gregory should be higher up this list because he's just so wholesome, he's one of the nicest bro's in the game, he's a good wingman, he's good keeping his brothers secrets, he helps his bros out of sticky situations. And then I remember that Gregory, (for all his wholesomeness as a bro), has a thing for unavailable women, and has probably tried proposing to Kate and Penelope at least 3 times before they got married to his brothers. And he actually did end up stealing someone else's bride. Haselby may not have been his 'bro' in the strict sense of the word, but they still knew each other and went to school together. Gregory had his reasons, but he was not above breaking the bro code in a spectacular way

4) Gareth: I don't have anything against Gareth, but he kinda does give off the vibe that he can't keep anything from Hyacinth, so no bro would trust him with sensitive information, and he absolutely ditches wingman duty if it's way more trouble than it's worth. I can imagine Gareth being Gregory's wingman with Hermione and failing so badly at it, that he indirectly becomes the reason Lucy has to step up. But he's the sort of bro that gets points for trying at least, and we should respect that. Gareth would never date a bro's little sister, or ex, he'd never leave a bro alone to face the cops, he's a moderately good middle ground.

3) Colin: best wingman in the Bridgerton series, the only reason he's not #1, is because Colin would never sacrifice as much as Phillip and Michael did for the sake of a bro. But in everything else, he's your man, Colin will keep a bro's secrets, he will get the bro together with his girl, he will go above and beyond in the friendship department, hype up his men with super supportive speeches. On the other hand... He would still date his bro's best friend if Eloise had been born a guy. That's the only strike against him, and also that he's okay with throwing Anthony under the bus for his own amusement. Not all his bros, just Anthony. And only when he deserves it. Which is always.

2) Phillip: Was willing to enter a loveless marriage just to honor the memory of a bro. The extent of respect Phillip had for George, led him to marry Marina. And it was a large part on why he took care of her for so long. Phillip is willing to get beaten up by the bros to fit in, he's the guy who went trough every hazing ritual in the frat house and came out all the more manly for it. Also, out of all the bros, he's the one with the third highest alcohol tolerance meter, after Anthony and Michael. So it's very hard to beat him at drinking games. Phillip is just one of those bro guys okay. He does believe in the bros before girls thing, he'd never chose a girl over a bro, so much his bros had to practically beg him to just chose the girl, because they wanted Eloise out of their house. Still, he would never abandon a bro. the downside of this hyper wholesome bro...is that he does not know how to talk to girls

1) Michael: Out #1 best boy. Michael Striling, the man with enough self control to not seduce his bro's wife, even when he was dying inside. This man took being true to a bro's memory to a higher level than Phillip did. Because he actually LIKED his bro's widow. And never made a move until another bro practically pushed him towards it (see, Colin does have his uses) Michael may be the merry rake but this man would never touch someone else's girl, or ex girl, or their sister, or their bestie. he goes after merry widows and courtesans for a reason. Michael is a ride or die bro, so much even girls want him to be their bro. He will not throw a bro under the bus, ever, he will be there for every bro that needs him, even if it means leaving Francesca alone for a few hours. This man is so confident in his masculinity he's probably the one who organizes boys night out whenever he's in town. Because he just knows his bros need to unwind away from their wives. He's right. And we love him

but what do you guys think. Did I rank them correctly. Am I being too hard on Benedict and too soft on Michael? tell me.

because that's the tea for today

#on a scale of 1 to 8 #bro code au #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #colin bridgerton #simon basset

[adnauseum11]

Emotions so Comfortably Mixed

Logan x Reader

A side piece to my fic Northern Attitude, written from reader POV. I enjoyed mixing up the POV from the main work and may do another one. No previous knowledge of the fic or series necessary. Reader female coded but nothing explicit.

advice on how to tag better (properly?) welcome

1.5K words (no smut here but there is in the main fic if ya wanna check it out)

When Logan looks at you like this, with heated intensity behind his sharp blue eyes, you can feel the flush creeping over your cheeks.

He can be hard to read, but every day you feel like you get more adept at it. Right now, you would gladly bet on him being turned on and debating with himself about giving in to temptation. Namely, you and your mouth. He likes it when you pick at him, something your ex hated. You can’t help it, spent most of your life immersed in hockey culture. Chirping at people comes second hand, and nicknames are innate to how you operate with people you care about. Logan inherently seems to grasp these things, understands it comes from affection. You understand now too, having met the people who know him best, that nicknames aren’t something Logan does often. He’s had the same code name for decades, and only tolerates variations on it from certain people. He answers to the annoying one you gave him now without the grumbling that used to accompany it. The terms of the deal unspoken but understood amongst yourselves: reveal to no one the meaning and he will tolerate your continued use of it. You barely realize you’ve said it aloud until his attention fully swings your way. 

“mm?”

His big calloused palm comes up to cup the back of your neck, the warmth bleeding into your body. He always seems to have a hand on you when he’s in your orbit. You can’t say that you mind, his energy calm and steady when so often lately you feel unmoored and uncertain. He squeezes your delicate muscles gently to prompt you, and you find yourself getting caught in his gaze again. 

Pale blue irises are tracing the contours of your face, looking for something hidden in the slope of your nose or slant of your lips. You don’t know why you called for him, honestly. Probably just drawn by the latent heat in his gaze before your brain could get into gear. You know you’ve been asking a lot of his frayed patience today, and a warm affection for the gruff man surges through you. Now that he’s here...

“Will you kiss me before we leave?”

“Thought I told ya we can’t stay overnight?”

He answers with his own question, reeling you in with that big palm on your neck. The smirk that raises the corner of your mouth meets a matching one on his lips as he kisses you gently. He’s teasing you, but the truth is you both get greedy and engrossed in each other more regularly than is probably appropriate for people in your age bracket. Or his. You can’t say you really give a shit, and normally you’d be confident Logan feels the same but he’s wearing a few different hats on this courtesy run. The consideration being partially for you and partially for Tony Stark, owner of your transportation and invoker of the hard deadline you are now up against. 

“Yeah, you did. Just trying to make some nicer memories.”

The admission comes out before you can think it through, a touch more solemn than you had intended. It gets his attention immediately. 

When he kisses you this time, your brain whites out, unable to focus on anything beyond the sensations he’s creating. His fingers cup the back of your head, threading into your hair and making goosebumps sweep down your neck. His lips are firm and demanding, taking charge of the moment and catching you off-kilter with his sudden intensity. His tongue sweeps over yours, the heat and familiar taste of him addicting. A whimper slips out before you can get control, his sensory onslaught creating a flare of desire in the pit of your belly that demands some form of release. No thoughts come but your body arches itself into his, melting against the solid tension of his wide chest. Gripping the thick muscle of his neck only urges him on, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip as you break away to suck in an unsteady breath. 

He's breathing heavily against your neck, nosing along your jaw bone. Shivers run up your spine, the draw of his breath over your skin making goosebumps rise. You can feel your heart thumping alongside his even through all the layers of clothing, the beat mirrored in the low throb between your legs. You can’t help saying his nickname again, this time with a breathy quality that you know from experience makes him hard. The answering growl is nearly instantaneous, and you feel the edges of his teeth as he lightly bites the juncture of your neck. His big body crowds against you, and you let him push a thigh in between yours with a pleased hum.

“Behave yerself ya menace. Can’t even give an inch without ya taking a mile.”

He grumbles but you can hear the thread of amusement buried in his grump. 

“You’re only going to give me an inch?”

The words are out of your mouth before your brain can stop them and Logan huffs a laugh against your shoulder, his palm sliding down your spine to land on your mid-back. You tilt your head, lips brushing over the sensitive shell of his ear before he can answer. 

“So, just the tip then babe?”

You purr into his ear, sliding your palm over the back of his neck to tangle your fingers in his hair. He swats your ass lightly, the flare of pain dulling immediately into a pleasurable burn. Before you can put your mouth on his skin, he’s leaning back to get a good look at your flushed face and cupping your chin in the hollow between his thumb and fingers. When your eyes meet, he murmurs something in another language before kissing you several times in quick succession.

“Don’t tempt me. Tony has cameras all over the bird, yer gonna hav’ta wait a few hours before we can play that game darlin’.”

He switches back to English and part of you wonders if he even realizes he was just speaking another language. The corners of his eyes are crinkled in good humour and his eyes trace your lips before returning to your own. 

“mm, I’ll do my best, no promises.”

You shoot back with a smirk, tugging on his hair to pull him closer again. His face softens and he obliges, the heat of his lips descending on yours with delicious precision. You suck on his tongue when it swipes between your lips and the groan it elicits from him is filthy. The flare of desire in your belly leaps at his response, sending a thrill of anticipation spiralling through you. You feel him corral you into the wall of your cabin, pressing into your welcoming body. His thigh snugs up against the apex of your thighs, pinning you between him and the wall.

“Think I’m gonna need a promise ya menace.”

His voice is low and grinding and you mindlessly rock against his thigh in response to the shivers it sends down your spine. You can’t help staring as his pupils dilate, inches from your face. He sucks a breath in through his teeth but doesn’t move, slowly catching your chin in his grip again. He’s moving like he’s underwater – slow, with telegraphed movements. 

“I dunno if those cameras are live, and I’ll destroy that jet before I let anyone film us. Behave for the next few hours and I’ll make it worth yer while, darlin’.”

He rumbles as he moves, his hands dropping to explore your body. The gentle squeezes and strokes paired with his deep velvet voice make your brain go fuzzy, and you’re suddenly grateful to be caged into his muscular body. His presence is suddenly disorienting, like a magnet beside a compass. You grip his thick bicep as he presses kisses over your jawline, shifting back to assess your reaction to his proposal. You look at him from under your lashes, and the bolt of desire that slams through you when your eyes meet again makes you bite your bottom lip. His Adams apple bobs as he swallows hard but he maintains eye contact, his hands squeezing your hips before sliding upwards again. 

“mm fine, you drive a hard bargain, Pidge. I promise to behave myself on the trip back. I should remind you though -.”

You wiggle on his thigh, your own trapped thigh brushing against his bulge as you squeeze his bicep. His hissed curse turns the corners of your lips up in a smirk again. 

“Christ. Remind me o’ what, darlin’?”

He’s humouring your babbling, as he does when you get turned on and your brain detaches from the rest of your body. Your addiction to his voice means you’ll keep talking nonsense if it means he’ll respond. So he isn’t expecting you to be coherent then, when you reply. 

“You already owe me a favour, now it’s two. Better be good, whatever you’re planning.”

You taunt him, dropping your hand to his chest and letting it slide down his hard abs. The shock on his face elicits a quiet laugh in response from you, and then he’s gripping your wrist before you can cop a proper feel.

“Don’t worry darlin’, we’ll make some memories ya won’t forget. Just gimmie a few hours.” 

#wolverine #logan howlett #james logan howlett #logan x reader #marvel fic

[keshetchai]

Heyyyy do you have any advice for a potential convert/person exploring Judaism going to services for the first time. I have big anxiety and want to show up respectfully but not totally sure what to expect and how to approach it.

Sure! I definitely have advice.

First, like I said recently, we're currently still in the month of Tishrei, and every Jewish professional is absolutely drowning because this month is jam packed with the high holy days, & Hebrew school/Sunday school is starting back up. This is the absolute busiest time of year for anyone who is a "professional Jew." (Rabbis, cantors, synagogue front admin, etc etc).

What that means is this: I strongly recommend waiting until after October 15th (which will begin the Hebrew month of Cheshvan) to try contacting anyone about conversion. You're just much more likely to be able to get in touch with someone, send an email or make a phone call and get a timely response and/or someone with enough bandwidth to really engage with you.

I'm not saying they'll ignore you right now, or to stay away! Just that your email could end up lost or the people in question might be hard to reach because they're doing 50 million things right now. And I wouldn't want you to think that was personal or to make you anxious!

Okay so, the list looks like this:

Try reaching out after Oct 15th this year (when Tishrei is over).

A good basic book you might be able to find in a local chain bookstore is Anita Diamant's To Choose a Jewish Life which is all about conversion! She is a liberal Jew (reform) and the book leans that way, but it does just cover some general considerations and topics as a good starter.

You can try browsing myjewishlearning.com or watching Bimbam videos (youtube) for basic 101 concepts.

If you've found a local synagogue you would like to try visiting, go to the website. See if you can find the admin assistant email or the rabbi's email. Then send an email explaining you're interested in exploring/learning about Judaism and have considered you may be interested in converting and would like to attend a shabbat service for the first time. This is basically all I did! I sent an email to two rabbis at two synagogues I was considering, and one of them replied immediately and I went that very week.

I have anxiety too but it was extremely easy for me, and I'm pretty lucky that my rabbi is pretty familiar with converts and conversion. Not every rabbi has had converts or even a fair amount of converts though, so some of them might be navigating a new thing to them too!

What made my first shabbat really easy was this:

- basically the response email answered my dress code question, assured me I was welcome to join the next service as a guest and he would be happy to meet/do introductions, and then he gave me the name of someone at the synagogue who would be a great community member to sit with/who could help me follow the service, and said he'd introduce me.

So like, to me, that was the most helpful part, which was that when I arrived a little before the start time, we got to say hi and then he introduced me to a woman who sat with me and was able to help me gain a footing. Or at least who could help me when I was totally lost lol! If no one suggests it to you unprompted, you can always ask if there's anyone in the community they'd recommend you sit with to help you acclimate. It's also totally okay to sit in the back.

You won't know everything the first few times! There's also no musical notation if people sing (so it doesn't matter if you read music or not)! I can't guarantee the synagogue will have full transliteration into English for the service! There's a whole other language you probably don't know being used. Lots of people who show up could do the service with their eyes closed. It is OKAY that you don't start there! It's okay to have no idea when to bow or to not know every prayer ahead of time!

Don't worry that you're not sure what's happening. Most of the time people will be super friendly! They'll also want to know all about you. You can either tell them you're wanting to convert/learn more or you can tell them a limited truth.

If I don't feel like explaining my whole backstory to someone, I usually just say "oh, my parents weren't really/super religious." (This is true for me! my parents werent super religious! But they are christians who aren't super religious. I usually just say I converted nowadays, I don't feel a need to hide it if pressed, but yanno. Sometimes I didn't want to have to explain I never went to Jewish summer camp to a stranger at a random event who wants to play Jewish geography)

Anyways most people will probably be very friendly to a new face/stranger and want to know allll about you at oneg (usually like, snacks after shabbat service) if they don't recognize you and you seem alone. (it's also highly likely there will be a lot of regular people who are a lot older than you, so don't be surprised if you basically get treated like a visiting grandkid. It's kinda great.)

Eventually you learn a lot just by immersion and showing up again and again. There's a pattern you can pick up. Tunes to songs may change and eventually you'll come to recognize the most common ones.

I know it's hard to like hear "hey it's okay don't worry too much" if you have anxiety, because, well, I have anxiety! I know you can't just turn it off! BUT I assure you, if you are made to feel unwelcome or bad, then that just isn't a good synagogue to be going to anyways. It's more likely they're just not a good fit for you than anything wrong with you, yanno? And the first rabbi you talk to may not be the one you want to stick with. That's okay too!

I was extremely nervous my first few services, and honestly everyone was just really nice and helpful. I think the other rabbi I emailed didn't end up replying to that email (it probably got lost!) and it ended up being fine, I stuck with the one who replied right away because we got along and clicked.

My last piece of advice is to go ahead and buy yourself a notebook/journal and keep a book for yourself.

This book can/should be any number of things!

For some inspiration, this book can be:

A journal about your religious journey prior to this point and currently

Write about what you believe now, what you think, what you aren't sure about

Write down the books you're recommended, given, or borrowed

Write down questions you have

Write down the complicated or uncomfortable things you worry or think about

Write about experiencing x or y thing for the first time and what you were interested in, confused by, etc

Cut out/copy down Jewish recipes!

Note things that you find joy in or are confused or bored by!

Take notes during classes/readings of books/etc

Write down notes during meetings with your rabbi!

Torah study notes! What'd you learn? What'd someone else say you found interesting? Questions? Thoughts? Etc.

It's a big process! A lot is going on, and it's worthwhile to record your personal feelings and studies in some way! It doesn't have to be a serious diary or a really studious study notebook, it can literally just be...a catch-all book and it is for no one but yourself to benefit from, so it doesn't have to look any which way. But it's very worthwhile, even if you later change your mind and don't convert, you'll still have all that spiritual exploration journaling and notes for yourself as part of your growth!

[intheholler]

Howdy! I absolutely love this blog and am so glad I found it <3 Do you have any advice for reclaiming (for lack of a better word) your accent? Mine is all weird from years of codeswitching/trying to hide it, and now that I'm older and have more pride in where I come from, I miss that I don't sound exactly like all the other people from my area. Thank you!!

hi there <33 im glad yall found it too lol. welcome!

also sure! i was (am?) in the exact same boat :') so i guess i could try to tell you what's worked for me.

my first advice would be to try and stop being so critical about what you're saying and how you sound when you say it. easier said than done, ik, because obviously when you code switch, you are very aware of and careful about how you talk, but that's the very first massive block i had to work on before anything else.

so, the first thing i did was work on detaching myself from that need and not policing myself as i spoke. i tried to just let the sounds come out, especially my vowels. i always kept those real tight bc i felt like they're the biggest "tell" i wanted to avoid.

i achieved this by talking to myself in private to shake off that internalized shit that made me wanna disguise it around others in the first place. no one can hear you but you, so just yourself have it, even if u feel silly at first like i did. i dealt with some imposter syndrome-esque stuff about it during this time.

its gonna sound goofy, but for a while, to get ur mouth back in the habit of making certain shapes during certain words, start talking to yourself in an exaggerated form of ur original accent. like fully put it on lmao. maybe even heavier than the one you used to have. this helped my brain get reaquainted with my mouth.

then i started just actively listening to myself think and talk. there is the comfortable and familiar way my brain wants the words to be formed in my natural dialect, and then there is my mouth that stops it out of codeswitching habit. it took active work and effort to make my accent go away, and it's taking active work and effort to make it come back.

anyway, a lot of my pronunciations i no longer have to "actively hear" myself give, so i know it's working <3

sometimes i'll even say something, pause and mentally be like "goddamn, what the fuck was that that just came out my mouth" and then im like "oh right, that's me 🥰 hello again, me"

im glad you're ready to start reclaiming this part of yourself and i wish you good luck. it's surprisingly hard! i started making a conscious effort three or four years ago and mine is still not as strong as i'd like.

#asks #appalachian dialect #Appalachia

[paldean-ranger-brandy]

Yanno, I was talking to some of the lil ranger trainees back at the base (NOT avoiding my paperwork) and they were asking for tips. And like, why keep all the wisdom to the lucky few who get to be in my physical presence. The purpose of having a blog is to spread knowledge. Probably. So here's a quick list of things to keep in mind for new rangers.

Always carry a knife. This will come in handy in every situation. Fight? Knife. Some guy is stuck? Knife. Cool plant you wanna forage? Knife. Bored? Knife.

If you use a capture styler, always aim the disk directly at the centre of your target. Obviously your goal is to wrap circles around the pokemon without touching it, so aiming for the exact middle is your best course of action. I see new rangers do this all the time and I think yup. The kids are alright. Definitely not an idiotic move.

Sunscreen. I'm so serious about this one.

The dress code is a suggestion, especially if patrol starts before your base leader gets in. Just wear roughly the right colours and like, athletic wear and ur fine.

Hydration is important, but don't overdo it. If something goes wrong, like you get knocked out or killed or like. Electrocuted. Somehow. You will still piss your pants, but if you don't drink too much water you at least won't piss your pants a lot.

If you call in sick to work to go on a date you will get mocked relentlessly (by me). What, little lover boy was too in loooove to SAVE THE ENVIRONMENT. Grow up, you're a ranger you ain't got the time

Its annoying but you should keep your partner pokemon's pokeball with you at all times. Safety n stuff.

Operators are lovely and always looking out for us but also they are stuck at base and monitored by head office so sometimes you gotta cut comms.

You Aren't A Cop. Don't be a fucking snitch. Chill.

Number ten. Can't think of a tenth thing but it felt wrong to leave it at nine.

That's all. You're very welcome, baby rangers on rotumblr. This is all 100% amazing advice and will land you at least 2 maybe 3 rank ups if you follow it closely.

#pokeblogging #brandy chat #ranger lore #sort of #arc im such a good teacher