#not necessarily as a job but just being able to draw like that

[marblerose-rue]

OK getting content regardless / info below the cut for the sake of saving space!! and partial dsmom spoilers

click for better quality !! idk why tumblr nerfs it so often

these 3 are the main characters of the au pretty much . after strange and america (who renames herself spangle leapthrough, she enjoys her time in equestria for the most part but strange legitimately cannot stand it. and only begins to warm up by the time they're able to leave [he also refuses to change his name]) they land in a mlp-ified universe where all of the problems seem superficial and a bunch of mcu characters who are dead are still present. they figure out theyre not the only ones who dont belong in the universe though, and *thats* where the real problems come. they try to get as much info on this dangerous cosmic being that threatens the universe theyre in from spellcaster (strange's pony counterpart). and he doesnt want any help, because hes claimed the lonely title of 'being the only one competent enough to stop it'. strange wants to be the one to fix it bc like the worm, theyre not from equestria . so obviously he has to do it. its p much a power struggle between them and its pretty much up to spangle to get legitimate help because spellcaster is insistent they use as little magic as possible (and for good reason bc the worm absorbs residual magic to grow stronger) so that puts a lot of pressure on a lot of ponies who use magic . i thiiiink thats it

#you need to #knock that off. the others will not be finding out we were toy ponies. #my art #do not copy trace or steal #ponyverse #< that is my mlp marvel au tag #when theyre able to leave and return to their original universe america draws her and strange as ponies. at first hes like but then it gro #theres a lot more but this is as condensed as i can get it #most of this is like filler content i like. like a sitcom. if u will. blinks #OH YEAH the reason spellcaster is all dolled up is bc the first encounter he has with the worm (its actually a wyrm but its just a #miscommunication that stuck) he almost dies but he lives bc plot armor #BUT YEAH im struggling so much w drawing rn this is the best i can do atm . i got new brushes and i think its fucking with me #ive also got a summer job + a lot of appointments ive had to schedule/reschedule/coming up so thats probably also a factor s #so my time is a little blegh . on top of me playing minecraft like my life depends on it BAHA #BUT YEAH another thing thats not necessarily important but it is to me . bc of spellcaster being so fixated on the worm he essentially #outcasts himself so he can safely monitor it. and he reaches out to ponies who possess powerful magic (i.e scarlet static [and a few others #im still working on that part] BUT. he kinda breaks his own rules by using his own magic to create a double of himself (a lot more cleaned #up to keep folks from worrying) to pop up every now and then to keep suspicion off him. scarlet kiiinda knows but not enough to get her #to attack it bc if she does it'll power it up enough to unleash chaos . ANYWAY THATS A LONG TANGENT so when strange and america/spangle #land nobody really questions it/they treat him as normal bc they think thats just spellcaster and his new apprentice who nobody seems to #know . i hope that makes sense it makes sense to me

[causticsunshine]

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#i think i'm finally getting my writing drive back..... i've getting some really good rewrites in for momrry fic and #been able to think up some solutions for bits i've been stuck on in other fics too #also been drawing more and having fun with it just not really caring if what i make is for everyone anymore like... #it's more about just making stuff i want to make and am proud of #the whole like fandom artist thing has just never worked out for me and being in as niche a community as this and #not necessarily feeling comfy drawing irl people in certain situations i'm finally letting go of the resounding guilt #that sometimes comes with moving away from having your art fic etc constantly reflect your direct interests whether it be fandom or #otherwise... idk it's weird to describe and maaaybe that's just been smth i've personally had a problem with it yeah i'm trying ! #ik it puts me in a weird spot being so involved w this community and my friends within it while also making more artwork that's #totally separate from This but at the end of the day putting limitations on things like this just stifle creativity and i'm #an artist before anything else and i just want to do what inspires me vs sticking to one thing out of 'obligation' or w/e #ignore my rambling shcjdn im trying to be positive rn bc my day job fucking sucks #and im hoping being more optimistic about where my art can take me and actually working on stuff vs fretting about it will get me where #i actually want to be doing what i actually want to do sooner #alex talks

[xo2dee]

𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬

𝐣𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

❦ Pairing: Nanami Kento x (Fem)Reader

❦ Warnings: MDNI/18+ only. oral sex (fem receiving), vaginal fingering, edging (fem receiving), dirty talk, vaginal sex, rough sex, orgasm delay/denial, light bondage, unprotected sex, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, creampie

❦ Word Count: 6051

❦ Summary: Jingle all the way.

❦ A/N: i wrote this two years ago around christmas time and have revised it like twice, so it's only fair i share this one here first given how it's still in season

❦ twitter - ao3

In retrospect, you hadn’t thought you would gander the attention you had gotten from him. At least, not so soon.

(But it wasn't like you didn't always have his attention anyway.)

Nanami Kento was an exceedingly busy man, and returning to his job as a Jujutsu Sorcerer was almost just as busy as his time spent as a salaryman; albeit he did admit to you that perhaps it was less stressful, but he still had his headaches whenever Gojo Satoru decided to pester him with annoying antics to tell him about an investigation rather than just telling him straight up (he had been subjected to more than enough crude drawings of the male and female reproductive anatomy to speak for that accusation). And because of that, it was increasingly hard for you and him to ever spend time together since he always seemed to work well into overtime no matter how times he grouched about how much he hated it.

Dates were often hard to come by with him, but alas, it was like they said it being a ‘Christmas Miracle’ whenever a seemingly extremely happy and yearned for event happened in the month of December that Kento found some time off for the holidays even if it wasn’t necessarily celebrated as much. Because of that, you were able to enjoy more time with him and take time decorating for the corresponding holiday later in the month as well as plan a nice dinner night with him since you two really hadn’t sat down and enjoyed each other’s company like that in a long while.

You two also hadn’t had sex in a while. And perhaps that was why when Kento had asked you if you were going out to buy stockings to hang above the fireplace, you bought another more suggestive type of stockings as well.

Maybe it was the pent-up sexual frustration from that feeling of not touching each other like that in so long that got him so riled up, but fuck, from the way he eyed you as you stepped out in it for what was supposed to be a somewhat formal dinner between you two in your shared apartment…

You patted yourself on the back for buying the number because as much as you liked it, so did he.

Dinner with Kento at a restaurant or not was always a gracious occasion, he was composed and polite in matters of enjoying a fine cuisine with you and treasured that time he got with you. You liked the domesticity of it as you two chatted over glasses of burgundy wine, watching the glinting of your silverware in the light as you bit into your meal, and overall, just enjoyed his presence because it was hard to come by to get him like that.

You often told him you preferred his cooking over going out to eat, knowing from experience that he personally made the food just right whenever you were eating it. He had been taking his time in baking as well, the cake of your favorite flavor with strawberries on top he had made sitting on the counter in your kitchen for the romantic occasion something you had been looking forward to trying as well when you told him you were ready for dessert.

Honestly you had meant the cake as a dessert, but Kento was dead set on indulging himself in another type of dessert beforehand. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint where and when he finally snapped, you knew he was already teetering on a fine line to keep a strong hold onto his will whenever you first walked out in the little Christmas Elf ensemble.

The outfit itself was probably enough to nearly make him combust; the Christmas green, velvet, negligee combined with a jagged, jingle-bell trim that barely covered your ass and the plunging neckline that had your breasts pushed up and ready to pop out of the top of it had his dark eyes homing in on the parts of your flesh exposed. Your hat was something you hadn’t thought to really keep on since it was already in the floor next to dinner table, but you were beginning to think that perhaps his favorite part of the outfit was the thigh-high stockings lining up your legs and your red thong that matched the color of his tie for the night.

(Of course, he had matching ties for the holidays, it was just so him.)

The stocking themselves were green and white-striped topped off with their own little jingle-bell positioned neatly into the middle of your thighs, that which with every moment you made, they jingled. You had noticed his eyes mainly gravitate down towards there, mouth thinning and a vein throbbing in his temple with each step you made in them walking towards him in those damn fuzzy little kitten heels he had bought you that one time. Kento wasn’t so discreet in pulling his collar away from his neck and tugging at his tie as you both sat down to eat in an action of frustration and probable horniness, and he wasn’t so discreet with the rough tone his voice held every time he tried to engage in any conversation with you.

You knew that you would get fucked after dinner anyway considering the dilated, alluring gaze he was throwing at you from underneath his eyelashes that you normally got whenever he was in the mood, but you being you wanted to indulge in your own fun to see how far you could push him.

After all, it had been so long since you two touched each other so intimately.

Like you had been thinking beforehand, you weren’t too sure where and when Kento decided to say fuck it and bend you over the table, but you had some possible guesses. Perhaps when you licked a slow stripe on your fork with a sighing moan talking about how good it tasted. Or maybe when you purposefully kept pushing your arms together to let your tits strain against the bra that your nipples were about to spill out of for his view, talking about how tight the outfit was. Though if you really had to pick one of the guesses, it was when both of you had finished the actual dinner and then you sighed about how you wanted to be stuffed full right as you ate that dessert.

That really was the last thing you had really said to each other, the only thing coming out his mouth after had been a curse and some concealed grunts while you on the other hand were alternating with filthy praises and moans mixed with whines while Kento had his own dessert.

At that moment in time, you were bent over the dining table, hands clutching onto the tablecloth in tight fists and your chest squished into the hard surface with one leg Kento had hoisted up onto the table in a harsh grip on your thigh. Your other leg was balancing up on your tiptoes while your lover had fallen onto his knees after all but tearing your thong off and throwing it onto the table just above your head and used his other hand to spread the ass cheek of your leg that wasn’t on the table to bury his face nose-deep into your pussy.

You had already been getting wet with your own teasing, but Kento’s tongue was fast to let you start nearly dripping onto the floor and the tablecloth while delivering slow, fat licks with the base of his tongue up the entirety of your wet folds. His fingers dug into your ass of what he could with a squeeze, his hot breath and grunts vibrating through the opening of your cunt whenever you wiggled from a particular stimulated swipe of his tongue and moaned into the tablecloth.

Trying to sit up on your elbows to look back at him he was quick to force you back down with a hand placed onto your lower back, a slap to your ass afterwards for trying to move your pussy away for his ‘meal’. You whined and scratched at tablecloth that was nearly falling off the dinner table in a fashion Kento would’ve normally sighed at and pinched the bridge of his nose for, wriggling your hips harder against his nose for him to stop with the torturous licking and to just really devour your cunt like a man starved.

“Kento, please, go faster,” you huffed against the cloth, cheeks as hot as the temperature of the room. The fireplace in the living room had been lit to help set the romantic mood and to help fight the cold weather freezing the windows, and above the fireplace was the two cute stockings you had bought for the both of you. You watched the fire flicker in a drunk-like state, almost reminiscent of the hot sensation behind your naval growing every time your lover let the tip of his tongue jab at your clit. Everything was so hot, and you felt so warm.

Kento delivered another smack to your ass cheek, no doubt the skin beginning to redden from the repeated hits he had been giving you since he bent you over the damn table and started eating your pussy like it was his last meal. You moaned again as the sting morphed and grew alongside of your heightened pleasure, but you knew the slap was his own way of saying he wanted to hear something better than that.

You arched your back to deliberately rock your hips back into his face, his tongue sliding faster up your slit as he turned to slurping and sucking around the area with a groan from your eagerness, “Just… I wanna feel it, I wanna cum on your tongue and your face, please.”

That rewarded you a louder groan that vibrated your pussy again, his hand on your thigh holding you up moving to grasp your hip as the other grabbed the thigh of your leg desperately trying to remain on the ground to spread it wider for his liking. Once you were situated like he wanted, he changed his course of action: that hand holding your thigh disappeared to let two fingers begin a slow, rotating rub onto your clit, and his face delved deeper into your cunt with the tip of his tongue wiggling around until he had your lips spread open far enough to push the organ inside of you some. All the while the hand on your hip coasted you back and forth, encouraging you to rock back and grind against his face as he continued eating you out.

Your reaction was instantaneous; a keening, louder moan past through your lips as your eyes slightly rolled whenever his tongue made quick work to map out the inside of your dripping cunt. You eagerly followed his instruction of rolling your hips every time he swiped up the inside of you, coating your insides with his own saliva and at the same time greedily letting your fluids soak up into his taste buds.

God, Kento was one of the best pussy eaters you had ever had the pleasure coming of across, and it really doubled down onto that fact since he always wanted to indulge in it every time you two had sex.

“God, Kento, your mouth…” you broke off into whimper whenever he picked up the speed of rubbing your clit, switching from the circles to a steady back and forth, pressing down every time he repeated the process. You pressed your forehead into the table below you, almost wanting to just shred the white cloth from how fucking good it felt each time you rolled back onto his tongue and whenever he curled the tip of his tongue to lick up a side of you while pressing harder onto your clit, and ohfuckinghell –

Kento groaned again and his fingers flexed harder on your hip whenever you started to clench and unclench around his slick, hot tongue, his lips pressing over the lower parts of your pussy in a kiss to lap up any escaping fluids that his tongue wasn’t able to catch. The appendage felt insane, and you didn’t know how he managed to do it, but every time you two got to fucking he made it better each time around.

“S-Shit, just like that, please. Fuck, I’m so close,” you whimpered again as you dug your face harder into the tablecloth to fight back a horribly loud, pornographic moan. He answered back by smacking off your cunt and sliding his tongue out of you to give you another slow, almost lazy lick on the outer parts of you, deliberately teasing at your clit in a quick jab before he was diving back in with a hot exhale to put his tongue back in your warm pussy.

You bit into the cloth at that, eyes shutting in a squeeze as the coil behind lathering up in your lower abdomen pushed harder against you. Your brain had blocked out everything that wasn’t him, just giving all focus of letting your hips swing back and forth from his face and letting your cunt constrict and press around his tongue to get a feel of the greedy organ swirling around inside of you to feel every curl and swipe it made against your insides. Your back arched further inwards and your toes curled as well; the all-telling sign you were so fucking close to cumming.

God, you wanted it so bad.

The leg on the ground started to shake as Kento picked up his darts and jabs against your soft cunt and his fingers started move more rapidly on your clit. You were getting desperate then after that, his tongue-fucking making you rock back eagerly like you were fucking back on his dick those so many times he had you face down into your mattress. His fingers digging into your hip only added to the intensity behind abdomen and growing in your pussy that was rapidly approaching each time he groaned sending a vibration up all the towards your clit and cervix alike, your pleas getting jumbled together in praises and just broken whines of his name.

“Please, fuck –” you squealed when he hummed and pinched your clit – “Kento, it feels so good, I’m gonna cum, keep going…” your back arched hard whenever he slapped your ass again, nails really starting to rip into the tablecloth when his tongue slithered up out of you and he decided to let the slick organ join the movement on your clit.

However when he closed his lips around your swollen clit and sucked, you jerked hard with your cunt beginning to spasm as you were on the cusp of finally cumming all over his fucking face and he just needed to keep sucking and groaning while he did it as you continued to fuck back into his face and you were so close, just right there, right there, right there, fuck –

When the all-telling loud whine of his name finally left your lips that he fucking knew meant you were about to cum, he abruptly backed off of you, taking his tongue, his mouth and his fingers altogether and leaving you edged up and your cunt leaking from all the fluids of his saliva and yours combined. A groan left you and you banged your forehead onto the table whenever you felt his presence leave your entire body for a few moments, leaving your pussy gaping open and your hips still desperately rocking for any type of friction to let you cum.

He was in that mood.

Well… it was too be expected when you had really set him over the edge that time.

“Kento –” you started off, but quickly his name trailed off into a squeal whenever he gripped both your hips and flipped you back over upwards to face him, letting you get the full, hazy sight of him already jerking his tie out of its knot rather aggressively and throwing it onto the table next to you. He didn’t waste any time after doing that, the clanking of his belt coming undone as he only undid his pants far enough to pull his hard cock out and let it sit snugly on your clit as he slowly began to rock onto it.

Your toes curled again as he pulled you down lower onto the table, hooking your legs over his hips as you watched his flushed face follow the movements of his dick rubbing up on your clit until you started squirming and bucking up towards him in a wordless beg to just fuck you. Your orgasm was well gone by then, the throbbing of your clit and his grinding slowly picking it back up until he decided he had enough of your little wriggling around and just wanted to be inside of you once and for all.

Kento surprisingly didn’t take it slow then, his cockhead lining up with your opening for a few seconds until he was pushing his hips forward into one good thrust and bottoming out inside of you. You always gasped every time he got inside of you, the girth of him enough to knock the breath out of you and make you grip onto his forearms. He did the same too, a long shuddering exhale leaving his glistening lips covered in your fluids as his hands moved to grip onto the tablecloth beside of your head and he started to shallowly thrust into you.

“I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you,” he grunted out, sounding just as out of breathe as you felt, “You’re always so wet, so easy for me to just slip in… It’s been so long, I almost want to just take this slow and savor every way you moan and the way you feel right now gripping me,” his hips started to move faster, your body beginning bounce each time he slid out far enough and pushed back in.

His talking and voice alone had you clenching around him, ready to just fucking gush on his cock if he so much as asked. However, your interest was piqued by his explanation of ‘almost wanting to go slow’, eagerly looking up at him through your lidded eyes with your sighing lips as your hands left his arms to tug at the buttons of his shirt.

Once you got his shirt done and the view of his muscled body in sight, he spoke again with a rougher, sharp edge in his tone, “You remember what you said earlier?”

“Mmm." He was picking up his pace, the bells on your negligee and your stockings beginning to jingle each time your body slid up and back down on the dinner table, “What’d I say?” you breathily asked, hands hungrily running down the planes of his sculpted abdomen.

“You said you wanted to be ‘stuffed full’ of the dessert I made,” he groaned out whenever you pinched a nipple, one of his hands curling long fingers around your wrists as the other made way for his tie next you. He made quick work wrapping the fabric of it around your wrists, not tight enough to cut your circulation off, but tight enough to keep your hands secured, and topped it off with its own little bow as he pushed your tied-up hands in-between your cleavage.

Almost like you were his present.

“Behave,” he warned when you snickered, and afterwards letting his fingers tugging the straps of your negligee down onto your upper arms before returning his hands to fist at the tablecloth next to your ribs. “As I was saying, you said you wanted to be stuffed full,” his hips were picking speed up again, the sound of your clothing jingling louder and the cold steel of his belt clanking and pressing against your skin adding to the noise in the room. “Tell me, did you mean you wanted to be stuffed full of my cock or stuffed full of my cum?”

The words sent a frenzy into your brain that shot down your spine and tingled into your clit, your thighs squeezing around his hips in tune to how your pussy squeezed over his dick each time it rolled back inside of you. Your fingers curled and your joints popped as you craved to grab onto something, pants slipping out of your mouth as you tried to answer him, “I – mmm, I want, fuck –”

A slap landed onto the side of your thigh, “Tell me… I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

God, every time he talked to you like that your pussy was already drenching and ready to just beg him for whatever. The words alone had you moaning again as you heard the table below you two start to creak and the wine glasses beginning to shake in tune with his thrusting. Your head rolled back as you shut your eyes, the building pressure in your abdomen already weighing you back down as the babbling was already falling off your lips for affirmation to get him to actually finally fuck you.

“Both! Please just fuck me until I’m full of cum. IwantitsobadpleaseKentoplease!”

You got what you wanted at least.

At first, he groaned at your whines with his fingers ripping the tablecloth at how you sounded, your moans for him the sweetest and the most tempting sounds in the world to him as they sent chills through his body just from how he and he alone was blessed to hear them. After that, he very nearly lethargically pulled his cock out until his swollen and reddened cockhead skimmed your folds in a kiss, and then it was whole other side of him you were so goddamn happy to see when he snapped back into your cunt and set himself off with a devastating pace.

Your back instantly arched once you were thrown into the haven of ecstasy that was him ferociously fucking you, a choked out moan from his tenaciousness as your body really began to bounce and slide onto the dinner table.

Fuck, you loved pushing his buttons.

The table then was really creaking, the glasses above you two tipping back and forth with each jab of his cock he sent pressed into the deepest part of your pussy and the wine bottle almost rolling off into the floor if his fast reflexes hadn’t caught it and placed it into the chair behind him. The other noises you were able to hear were your own moans and pants all jumbled sorts of his name, and his own grunting and groaning low in his chest combined with the obscene sound of your pussy getting smacked into every time he pulled out far enough and dove back in with hard snaps.

But there was another noise that you would’ve laughed at if you weren’t currently getting the shit fucked out of you by your lover, who had not once felt the touch of your pussy in what seemed to be months.

The little bells on your stockings and at the bottom of your negligee that had been pushed up past your hips were tinkling so loud and so in a tune, it nearly sounded like it was being played by an orchestra entirely made up of sleigh bells. You had half a mind to think it nearly could be paired with the knocking of the table to add in the effect of hooves signaling the sign of reindeer arriving, but you were so caught up with focusing on how fucking good Kento felt you only thought about it for brief moments.

His cock deep diving into your cunt was gut-curling and left you gasping out each time he found home inside of you so bad that it started to line up with how your words came out of you. You were mesmerized by his face as always; red and his forehead sweaty enough to let tendrils of his blonde locks curl onto the surface of while his dark brows were scrunched into a furrow and at times, he bit his lip to keep himself from moaning louder than you. At other times you knew he liked to watch your face; his brown eyes heavily dilated and boring into your own to watch every expression you made to commit it to his memory, however then…

His eyes were acutely focused on watching his cock leave you as your cunt twitched and gaped open awaiting his return, and watching it so easily enter you again and how your pussy would stretch to accommodate his size and it was a perfect fit –

Kento’s nostrils flared as another harsh exhale left him, his strokes picking up a fraction letting you know that he was getting close rather quickly. You couldn’t blame him, it had been so long and you were ready to cum all over him as well.

Your back knocking into the table had your tits bouncing out of your built-in bra, the gasping sounds of your words bringing his eyes back to your own as you spoke with each harsh thrust, “You haven’t – been – like this – in a while – God – last time – you were like – this – it was the – first – time I let you – cum inside of me – oh fuck.”

Kento eyes narrowed into your own before they briefly dropped to watch your breasts bounce with each thrust, your hardened nipples catching his attention as he reached up and tweaked one. You squealed and wiggled your hips, but he didn’t let up as he leant down closer and the upwards angle of his cock inside of you had your eyes crossing while his mouth found your ear. His gravelly voice sent a new wave shivers down your spine, “Need I remind you that you begged for it? You whined and cried about how much you wanted me to finally ‘fuck you’ and let you feel me cum in you. How shameful you are begging to be filled like that, but I can’t say I’m surprised since you beg me for it every time.”

At the angle he was at practically lying on top of you it allowed you to scratch at his chest, another round of fiery words coming out in response to his hypocriticalness that he was the one telling you that he’d cum inside of you so much that it was incredible you hadn’t gotten pregnant, “You love it – you love – fucking me full – don’t you? You love – the idea of me – being at risk – and you do it – mmm – every single time.”

That got you a hoarse groan, Kento leaning back far away from you with a grunt and aggressively tearing off his blazer to throw into the floor where you little hat laid as well. Something about his eyes changed, his shoulders hunching forward as his hands slid down past your hips and over your thighs until he was twirling three fingers around the top of your stockings. His strokes had stopped and you had a moment of clarity not having the breath fucked out of you until he started back up again. Though that time –

Shitshitshitshitshit.

Kento had taken upon himself to use the leverage he had on your stockings to pull your body to fuck into him. The pace wasn’t as fast and desperate beforehand, but it was deep and with the hard meaning behind it thick with ferocity of what he wanted to do to you.

But really it was what you both wanted.

“Ohhhholyshit, fuck I’m gonna cum,” you wailed out throwing your head back again with a gaping mouth, legs tightening of what they could as they began to shake around his hips. There had been few times you genuinely felt like Kento was guts-deep into you, aside from always being balls deep in your pussy, and that moment as you bounced and nearly hiccupped with every tug at your thighs to let your sopping insides completely engulf his cock, you truly felt like he was in your stomach. Your cunt then was pulsing, clenching and unclenching as best as it could to all but engrave each vein and groove on his cock to the walls of you, the new pace and angle crossing and rolling your eyes back as you started to slip back down into your orgasm once more.

However, he wasn’t about to let you off for your little backtalk.

“Don’t be so coy, you like it as much as I do whenever you feel me cum inside of you,” his hold tightened as you heard parts of your stockings rip from his behavior and he began to slowly fuck back into you, meeting you thrust for thrust, “You – want – to tell me – what it is? What is it you want done to you so badly?”

Your head rolled, your pussy growing wetter and impossibly tighter at each word he groaned at you. The coil behind your naval was too hard to ignore, your mind desperately clawing to reach for it, to finally feel that sweet sense of relief, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to have it unless you told him what you wanted. He knew you were about cum, he could feel it with each stroke that you constricted around and each pant that grew louder and louder when you bucked your hips up to meet him.

You indulged him. “I want you to cum inside of me –”

Your stockings ripped more, a bell on one flying off to jingle as it rolled onto the floor. “That’s not what I want to hear.”

Everything was hot; him, his cock, you. “Fuck, just… stuff me full of your cum like I said wanted you to!”

“Tempting,” he grunted out and you watched him flick the one little bell on your stocking still, the others still jingling as the table slid in tune with his pulling, “but you can do better than that.”

You were getting frustrated; you had been denied cumming once, and with the throbbing of your clit and the ‘itch you couldn’t scratch’ feeling, you were very nearly ready to fuck into him and cum before you told him anything. However, it was the pulsing of his hot cock inside of you with each dive back into you and the edge his octave took when he spoke to you that stopped from doing so; he was close. He was close and wanted to hear what you were going to say to let himself get off and you knew he knew that him alone cumming was enough make you cum too. The feeling of his warm cum spurting out along your walls and keeping it inside of you feeling so good it made you insatiable, and you wanted so much more.

Kento’s tip was brushing against that one sensitive spot again, the area not unknown to him since he loved to fuck up into you there to have you crying and babbling for him. Your eyes rolled back a fraction and your toes curled while your nerves lit up as you grew so fucking close, the muscles in your body tensing and the awareness in your brain turning foggy while the pressure in your cunt grew tenfold and you started squeezing desperately around him. With his heavy breaths and harsh groans, you knew was getting at his limit; he was getting closer.

But you wanted it, you wanted it so damn bad that you regained a bit of clarity for a brief moment to really push at his resolve. You blinked and rolled your eyes back to him, finding his own dark eyes already watching you, then narrowing inwards as you let a lewd grin light up your face.

“It’s called breeding.”

His grip tightened.

“You have a breeding kink.”

His pace quickened; harder and faster, and you locked your ankles at his back.

“I want you to breed me, Kento.”

His nostrils flared and a hissing exhale left him, hands slamming down onto the table in favor of just fucking hard into you instead.

“C’mon, breed me.”

A long, winding groan left him as his fingers found your clit again with a deliberate rub, the rest of your plea coming off in a high-pitched whine as you starting cumming the moment you said it.

“Fuck a baby into me, Kento!”

You got the satisfaction for a brief second to watch his eyes roll back at the last words before your head lulled back from the harsh release of your orgasm. You shut your eyes as your vision had busted into shades of all colors and strong release of endorphins flooded both sides of your brain, your hips sporadically trying to grind and buck to keep up with his still thrusting body as he fucked you through and you tried to ride through it. It was useless though, the lock you had around his back breaking with your shaking legs and your trembling cunt squeezing around him to desperately keep him inside of you. Your chest heaved with the harsh breaths as you began to jerk and try to find your way back to lucidity, but you weren’t so lucky whenever you moaned aloud again when you felt him cum.

His last thrust was a harsh jab he combined with a thigh-clenching groan that slid the table and you up inches before you sighed longingly as you felt the familiar warmth of his cum spurting out inside of you. You got your wish of getting stuffed full as well, his cum almost seemingly never-ending as each sudden stab of his hips in you had another stream of it filling up your pussy. The new heat in you had you sighing once more in contentment as you felt it slowly slide down through you and pass into your womb, not doubt him fulfilling that possible useless wish of wanting him to fuck a baby into you. Kento’s thrusts finally came to still as he sat inside of you to keep any of his cum from leaking out your still convulsing cunt, only leaving you as both of your breaths finally settled into a steadier rate.

You could feel it slowly begin to slide out of your gaping hole after he carefully pulled out, almost literally feeling your body deflate and trying to push itself back into place as his cock left you in the process. But ever the man not to want to make a ‘mess’, Kento brushed the tip of himself alongside your folds to catch the cum that oozed out of you. You whimpered and gasped whenever you felt him push what had escaped you back into your sensitive pussy, a slow roll of his hips fucking his cum back into you to make sure it stayed there.

“I’m only keeping my word,” he huffed out, keeping himself busy for the moment with slow, mouthwatering rocks of his own sensitive body part to make sure you were stuffed full of his cum like you and he both wanted.

It was only a few moments of that before he stopped his rocking and he was freeing your hands of the bondage he placed on you, lifting your wrists to deliver two kisses to them until you lazily slid an arm around his neck and locked your ankles around his back again keep him snugly inside of you and to pull him on top of you again for a slow kiss.

It was a lot more sensual and chaste compared to your previous activities, all sighs and mingling breath tasting of sweet wine before you broke off and kissed at his cheek, “Thanks for the dessert.”

Kento snorted at your choice of words, wrapping his arms around your back and burying his face into your shoulder, “…We made a mess.”

“You’re telling me.”

“And I have to buy a new tablecloth.”

“And new stockings, you ripped both of them.”

“I’ll buy you the same pair –”

His hand slid down to flick at the one bell still attached to you and you giggled at his corniness whenever he whispered his next words into your ear.

"– because I like the way they jingled when I fucked you.”

#nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x y/n #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kasien #nanami kento x you #source: animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[ronwestbreeze]

you’re gonna go far | 2

pairing: jake sully x neytiri x tsu'tey x fem!human!reader summary: a scientist arrives on pandora (unwillingly) a year after the exile of the rda. now she must deal with the likes of a clan leader, a great warrior, and a thanator rider. . . word count: 7.2k

read on AO3

The masks were annoying, and you decided halfway into walking through the forest. 

You were stuck between two Na’vi warriors who rode horse-like creatures while being led away from Hell’s Gate and into the unfamiliar forest surrounding the facility. The name of the creatures they rode on escaped you at the moment but all you did know was that you looked utterly ridiculous standing next to them. Like a trapped mouse. Or a bug.

They were that tall.

Anyway, back to the mask. 

While yes, they were useful—humans couldn’t breathe in the air without them, unfortunately—it still didn’t mean they weren’t an inconvenience. There was still dealing with the fogging when your breaths got too heavy or quick. Then there was the fact that you were consciously aware of some of the straps tied around the back of your neck and your jaw. For some reason, it bothered you and you couldn’t stop picking at it.

Your mother mentioned these masks a few times in her videos—even wore one at some point whenever she wasn’t in her avatar body. Sometimes her videos ended up like tutorials—or lectures about every aspect of her job, the Avatar Program, Pandora itself, or whatever created that spark in her eye, that prompted her to send you videos.

You only knew some of the information about Pandora and the Na’vi because of said videos.

That didn’t mean the masks weren’t fucking annoying though.

You didn’t say anything throughout the entire journey and the warriors didn’t offer any conversation, fortunately. 

But then again, they didn’t take too kindly to your sudden appearance in their home—or your species in general. So starting a conversation with you or you with them was out of the question.

There was still a limp in your step as you walked. Your thigh looked newly wrapped, which also told you that the wound was still fresh and hadn’t had much time to heal yet. 

You tried not to wince—or show that you were in pain for the matter. The last thing you wanted was to give them more ammo to complain about.

Not because you necessarily cared for what they thought about you.

You just didn’t have the energy.

“Demon.” One of the warriors—the one walking ahead of you—spoke suddenly, drawing you out of your internal thoughts.

You realized, after blinking, that the warriors had stopped next to a piece of land that was surrounded by what looked like newly bloomed trees and delicate-looking plants.

There was a bit of a lump in the green ground and a long-looking branch—a walking stick maybe—lodged into the ground next to the lump. Small objects decorated this stick. Beads, grass string, a long white shard—a tooth—and some other stuff you didn’t bother to look at.

All you could focus on was the lump. The ground which your mother was buried under. It looked like a couple of years had passed, with all the new growth, instead of a couple of days.

Carefully, you knelt on the ground. Carefully, you allowed your fingers to run along the regrown grass, feeling the lumps of soil and dirt underneath your fingertips. Carefully, you tackled roughly the fact that you wouldn’t be able to see your mother’s smile ever again.

You should’ve cried. But you already gave your tears away in the cell. But you hoped to have more to give. Just for your mother’s grave. Just for the flowers surrounding it.

To you, your mother was gone days ago. You wouldn’t—couldn’t accept that it was for much longer.

Silently, you stayed at the burial. Still and silent. You could’ve been a rock if you had wanted. To remain here, empty with your mother.

But the soft tickle against your right ear spurred you to move. Only slightly, just to swat at whatever was next to your ear away.

A second later it came back, but this time brushing against your left arm. You jolted back, ready to swat at it again when a voice hissed behind you.

“Don’t!”

For a while, you had forgotten that you weren’t alone with your mother. At the voice, you snapped your head over your shoulder to find the Na’vi woman from before—Neytiri—jumping down from a tree behind you. The warriors, who had been tasked to watch you, were already staring at you with intense gazes. The why, you didn’t know.

Something grazed your arm again and the reflex to swat at whatever was touching you kicked in again. You went to swing your arm but Neytiri appeared next to you, catching your arm while hissing, “I said don’t!”

You snatched your arm from her grasp instantly, “What the hell do you want—”

The rest of what you wanted to say remained stuck in your mouth when Neytiri pointed at what was bothering you for the past couple of seconds. Floating around your mother’s grave were white wisps. They moved with the wind and yet on their own accord at the same time. One of them even landed on your arm and stayed there. Despite the gentle breeze that should’ve urged it to fly away.

They reminded you instantly of dandelions. “What are they?”

You expected your question to be met with silence. But Neytiri had answered, “Atokirina. They are very pure spirits.” Instead of the severe expression she wore earlier when you met officially, it was replaced by a thoughtful one as she stared at both the—atokirina—and you. “From a very sacred tree. A tree that is very important to us.”

You continued staring at it warily. It still didn’t move from your arm. Since swatting it was a no-no, you instead gently blew at it until it finally floated from your arm. Only to rest on your injured thigh. The weight of it was nothing, but still. Why didn’t it go away?

Neytiri hadn’t gone away either which was strange. 

Instead, she motioned for the two warriors to leave. You watched them hesitate before steering their horse-like creatures away from you, your mother, and Neytiri.

The three of you were left alone now. You weren’t being surrounded. But you were still being watched. By one less person.

At first, you considered ignoring the Na’vi woman and refocusing your attention on your mother’s burial. It would’ve been easy if not for Neytiri watching you. Literally, you felt her eyes drilling into the side of your head.

“Can I help you with something?” It came out a lot more annoyed than you intended—no, actually you did intend to get your annoyance across.

It was a bitter reminder of the current situation you were forced into.

Neytiri’s ears rose. For a moment the two of you just stared at each other. Until eventually you rolled your eyes and turned your gaze back to your mother.

Then suddenly Neytiri reached for the wooden stick.

Instantly, your defenses drew up. “What are you doing?” She took the beads from the stick. You reached for her hand, “Stop. Leave it alone—”

Neytiri hissed at you and you reluctantly dropped your hands. 

You glared at her hands as she carefully removed the beads—which turned out to be attached to the grass string like some type of necklace. And delicately she held it in her hands, yellow eyes glimmering as she observed it.

For some reason, you were just angry. You didn’t know what the necklace was but you sure as hell didn’t want anyone messing with your mother’s burial. Never mind the fact that someone took the time out of their day to make it for her—a Na’vi most likely. Rationality wasn’t present right now.

All there was, all you could afford, was just anger.

“What’s your deal?” You questioned hotly. “Do you dislike me so much that you have to tamper with my mother’s grave? Do you have to come and keep an eye on me yourself? I already told you I would leave, what fucking more do you all want from me?!”

Neytiri looked up from the necklace to frown at you. Still, a thoughtful look was present in her eyes. “I want nothing from you. You have nothing to offer me, demon…” Her eyes then fell on the atokirina that still rested on your thigh. She then shook her head, “It does not matter what I want.”

Irritated and…confused, you forced yourself up to your feet. “If you want me gone that bad, then fine. Whatever. Just,” Your hands clenched together when she still hadn’t put the necklace down. Your heart twists in on itself. “Just put that back.” Neytiri looked up at you with an unreadable expression. “Please. And don’t—don’t get rid of this place. Please let her stay here even when I’m not here anymore. This was her dream. I don’t want to be the one to ruin it because of—because of everything that happened. She’s innocent.” At least that’s what you hoped.

God, you were so exhausted.

Neytiri didn’t say anything. Instead, she eyed you curiously now. You ignored her gaze and looked down at your hands.

The blisters and ash were long gone now—someone must’ve cleaned your hands while you had been unconscious during your trip to Pandora—now they were just covered in dirt. Imprints of your nails digging into your palms were still present.

Suddenly, the necklace was in your hands. It appeared longer in your hands than it did in hers.

You looked up to find Neytiri kneeling in front of you, staring at you intensely. Instantly your fingers wrapped around the object. Feeling the cool beads, the sharp white tooth, a small bone—this was a peculiar necklace. You wondered if Joan ever wore it.

“It is a songcord.” Neytiri’s voice snapped you out of your quiet thoughts. “We sing for memory.” She then pointed to one of the beads. It was a beautiful purple color, like a shell of sorts. She then pointed to a few more shells along the string until the very end. A black shell next to the bone. “Those are her memories of you. Until the end.”

The anger, you so rightfully felt, had gone and turned into true grief. It hadn’t left you. It had only been overshadowed by your rage. Grief and anger often coincided with each other lately. Sometimes you felt one more than the other.

And your eyes were filled with water once more.

Because your mother hadn’t forgotten about you. God, you were so selfish for thinking otherwise.

You were back on your knees, clutching the songcord close to your chest as silent tears fell from your cheeks and dripped noiselessly to the ground. At that moment, you didn’t care that you weren’t alone. You didn’t care that a stranger was seeing you cry—whereas others who knew you had never witnessed it.

Pandora had made you very vulnerable. Unarming your defenses and breaking you down into the child that you so desperately protected from the world.

Once you calmed down, you were still surprised that Neytiri hadn’t left you alone. One would’ve thought the sight of someone crying would’ve swayed them away. But not her.

You stood, still clutching the songcord in your hands. You didn’t look at Neytiri when you asked somberly, “Can I keep this?”

You didn’t know why you asked. Could she even stop you from taking it? Did she even care enough to stop you? None of these things you knew.

Neytiri did not respond. Her ears twitched as she adjusted her grip on the long bow she had been carrying in her other hand. She stood and you were once again reminded of how tall these people were compared to you.

She nodded her head toward the direction you had come from before with the two warriors, “Come.”

You watched as Neytiri started in that direction. You frowned, tucking the songcord away into your pants pocket—as delicately as you could. “I know my way back.”

“Come.” Neytiri just repeated as she kept going.

Not really in the mood to argue, you let your shoulders sink and followed after her.

And it wasn’t a long walk back to Hell’s Gate—the base where you had been kept—so you still didn’t understand why Neytiri had seemed so insistent in walking you back. Nor did you care to protest about it. The day had been too exhausting. You were ready to shut your eyes. Just to let your body rest.

Once you got to one of the entrances, Neytiri stayed outside, watching you silently as you entered and took off your mask. You glanced back at her with furrowed brows. Neytiri blinked and ran back into the forest. Seconds later you saw one of those winged creatures fly off into the sky.

You took out your mother’s songcord. Memorizing every detail, every bead, until it tied together and ended with the bone.

Was this hers? Was this your mother’s bone?

There was a question in the back of your mind. One that you forced away the moment you were being led to your mother’s burial. One that you had refused to acknowledge ever since DeVoe had brought you here.

DeVoe was dead. And you had some time on your hands.

Eywa hadn’t been wrong before. Neytiri had witnessed it.

With Jake. With Tsu’tey. The last time an atokirina favored someone, it had saved her clan from the Sky People. It had brought them the Toruk Makto, who united the clans together to run those sky demons off their planet. Eywa had heard them.

And Neytiri wouldn’t stop listening.

She had a dream a few nights before—before the RDA ship landed. She saw a shooting star. Flying straight toward her.

Still to this day, she wondered what that meant.

Then you came. She had spotted you first with another Sky Demon—this one reminding her too much of that one she killed, Quaritch. So, she shot an arrow through the demon’s head.

And she finally got a clearer view of you after landing and sliding off her ikran. Neytiri inched toward you with caution. She saw that you immediately didn’t get up to fight her. Instead, you just stayed on the ground and began desperately crawling toward a mask just a few feet away from you. You did not see her.

Neytiri reached the mask first and grabbed it from your reach. Your whimpers weren’t hard to hear, nor were your struggles for breath. There was no fight from you. Your body just slumped against the ground, staring up at Neytiri with glazed—almost empty eyes.

You did not fight her for the mask. You did not fight for your life.

With that knowledge, it should’ve been easy for Neytiri to leave you there. She should’ve tossed the mask far away from your body and let the toxic air consume you until your heart stopped beating. 

Because you were just another infection on her land. In her home.

“Demon.” She hissed at you before your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

Just as Neytiri would’ve turned to leave and find the others, her body stopped instantly when she saw the atokirina.

It was so out of place among all the wreckage surrounding them. But still pure. Always pure.

Neytiri prayed that it wouldn’t do what she thought it was about to do. She hoped that she was wrong for assuming much.

But the atokirina landed on your forehead back then. Just as they came to you at your mother’s burial.

She could’ve left you for dead.

But Eywa hadn’t been wrong before.

She could risk it. She couldn’t be like Tsu’tey and heartlessly leave the body to rot. To suffer for invading their home. To pay for the sins they had committed. For trying to come back.

But Neytiri wasn’t like Tsu’tey. And she was fine with that.

She knelt next to you at the last second and placed the mask against your face. She had done it exactly like how she did with Jake when he had been yanked out of his body during the war. Where she nearly lost him.

She kept the mask pressed to your face, praying for forgiveness from the Great Mother. Hoping that she hadn’t missed her chance. Desperate as you were trying to reach for the mask.

You were so small in her arms. Somewhat smaller than Jake had been.

The minutes lasted achingly long until the mask began fogging up.

Neytiri sighed with relief, “Thank you, Great Mother. Thank you.”

For some reason, Eywa favored you that day. And restated it the next when you were at your mother’s burial.

The Great Mother had something in store for you. And Neytiri was quite curious to see what that meant.

Hell’s Gate was abandoned. There were still people running about of course but immediately you had a feeling this place used to be more.

“This was where the RDA and everyone else primarily lived and worked,” Norm confirmed your silent question as he led you through a long hallway, both of you holding a mask in your hands.

You would’ve groaned at the idea of putting back on a mask but right now you were quite determined. Before you left Pandora, you wanted to know one thing. That was it. It wasn’t closure. It was just the information you wanted to obtain.  Something to think about. Something that might dwindle your decision about leaving Pandora.

Both of you passed by different rooms, people who were either face first in their tablets or a deep discussion with their colleagues. Norm noticed this and cleared his throat, “There’s very few of us left here. After the RDA were exiled and all, the natives were reluctant to even allow us to stay here. Even if we did help them win. Before that, there were a lot more of us here. The good and the bad.”

Quietly, you wondered which side your mother fell on.

After putting on your exo-mask, Norm stopped at a door and pushed it open, leading the two of you outside. There, you saw more Na’vi—no, avatars running about. Exercising, manual labor, anything to do with being active.

“This is where most of the avatars come to train their new bodies. Over there are the gardens—” he pointed further toward the right of them where a bunch of tall browning crops were. And there were a lot of them. Stretching toward the trees surrounding them. You wondered if that was a part of the garden too. You wondered if your mother had a hand in that. “No one’s tended to it for a while now. We lost a good number of scientists, not enough to be in charge of it.”

Finally, Norm led you toward a building nestled in the trees. He opened the front door—which was surprisingly unlocked. The door whined from the action. It was quite old looking—no, not taken care of for a while.

“This is where your mother worked. Right in the middle of the action.” Norm explained as you entered the small shack.

It was just another lab. Just a lot larger and crowded than the ones in the main building. Crowded yet neat. Even with all the stuff in here, it was somehow still neat.

Norm cleared his throat again, “I’ll come back for you when we find a ship for you.”

You absently nodded. 

Seconds later the door closed and finally, you removed your mask. The moment you stepped forward, the lights came on. The computers at the center of the room suddenly came to life. Holographic screens floated around the room.

After placing the mask on a table next to a golf club—you didn’t even question it knowing your mother’s randomness—and approached the computers, quickly getting to work on what you wanted to find. 

Which was pretty straightforward. Mostly because you were used to your mother’s organization, her system. Apart of being an apprentice under her required you to sort out everything in a particular order. Files weren’t alphabetical but sorted according to how they would make your mother feel.

Joan Reeds was quite the eccentric scientist.

Files that put her in a good mood would be the first ones to be greeted with. You moved past those. 

Files that made her annoyed would be put aside or hidden away in another folder until she was ready to tackle them. You scrolled past that folder too. 

Then there were files that she would get to eventually—meaning she’d procrastinate on them until they were forgotten. Usually, those went into the recycle bin. And there were a lot.

You scrolled past all of these to get to what you wanted. After getting through a few of hers and the RDA’s security walls, you eventually found the locked files DeVoe had wanted you to look at.

The password space empty.

The next few minutes were spent entering passwords that you thought your mother would use. Her name, Joan. Her birthday. Your birthday. Your father’s birthday. Your late dog’s name—which you knew would’ve been wrong considering how much she hated that dog. Her cat’s name, which she left to you before her trip.

All of them were wrong.

You glanced toward the door, wondering how much time you had left before Norm came to get you. And then you took out your mother’s songcord, looking at it carefully. Memorizing every detail, feeling every bead, every object strung together. Until you found yourself staring at the end. The bone.

You wondered what type of song it was. You wondered how she would’ve sung it. You imagined her voice. Her laughter. Her twinkling eyes. Her excitement. Her infectious wonder.

The bone was rough against your callous fingers.

A word suddenly came to mind then. It was a long shot but you tried it anyway.

Placing the songcord back in your pocket, you typed in the next word after the twenty-minute password cooldown:

Shadow.

A beat went by.

And the folder opened.

There was a tug on your lips. 

Or perhaps you imagined your face breaking into a smile. You couldn’t tell. Your face had been quite stuck as a scowl. Almost like it was permanent.

A video came up first. Your mother wasn’t smiling like she always did in her videos.

“Log 238. We’re making progress on our gardens and the animals we rescued from the RDA’s latest trek through the forest.” She winced, her eyes sparkling with a hint of rage. “Selfridge is pressuring me to hurry up my research on the neurotoxin. I keep telling him that there has been no progress so far and that there would most likely never be progress. He bought it at first but he’s becoming desperate. Greedy. I can only keep up the lies for so long.”

The video ended. Which was smart. She probably didn’t want to admit the truth on camera. You imagined that the RDA had some access to these videos, so her admitting what the lie was would’ve been damning evidence. Especially if she was so protective over it.

You kept looking until you stumbled upon a folder that opened into more holographic screens. You moved the screens around, taking in all the information she had hidden. 

Turns out she did come up with something. Only it was how to develop the neurotoxin. All the information was there to remake it in their labs, to have some of their own. 

You understood then. You understood why DeVoe was so desperate to uncover what was behind the wall. Just another weapon to use against the Na’vi.

Not like they didn’t already have enough.

From the video diaries, your mother explained the darker side of her trip. She never went into too much detail but you could always tell that it bothered her. So much so that she avoided talking about it at all costs. Like she didn’t want to ruin your young fantasy the same way it had happened to her.

You found another video and your stomach lurched.

She looked pale and skinnier here. This must’ve been around the time she was sick.

“Log 324. They won’t stop. Not until they get the unobtanium from them. They’ll take and take and take until there’s nothing left. Until this is a void of a planet—and it makes me sick thinking about it. It makes me sick—knowing that I had helped, whether it was intentional or not I had helped them progress. Oh my god, oh my god. What will my daughter think? What would she think of me? Knowing I had done this? I can’t—I can’t let her see this—be a part of this. It’ll eat her alive, it’ll destroy her. Pandora is a gold mind for them. And they're not going to stop, no matter what I do. The one thing I can do, the only thing in my power I can do is hide my research. Hide it until…I don’t know. I don’t know…” 

Joan dropped her head down. Her breathing was hallow, wheezing. You shook, watching her. The corners of your eye itching harshly. 

“If any—wheeze—if any of you fucks find this…..leave her out of it. If I’m dead, my work goes with me.”

You backed away from the table, eyes wide.

She never wanted you here. She never wanted you here.

“You hear me?!” Joan shouted at the camera. “It all dies with me!”

Anger burned your blood. It spurred you into action as you grabbed the nearest object—the golf club—and grasped it tightly in your hands.

You didn’t think. 

You didn’t think one bit. All you did was swing. Swung it down on the computers, shattering the monitors, smashing the hard drives, the consoles—everything on the table that contained information. You kept going and going and going until there was a worn dent in the pole.

After those computers were surely destroyed, you moved onto the shelves, the journals, the papers—anything that held information. You destroyed it all. 

And god, it felt so good. 

Finally having an outlet to waste all your angered energy away. Finally able to let it out with both a shout of rage and with every bit of your strength left.

You screamed and you hit.

You screamed. You hit.

You screamed. You hit.

One of the monitors caught on fire. But you kept going.

You screamed. You hit.

You screamed. You hit.

You screamed. You hit.

You screamed. You hit.

The door to the lab suddenly opened. The fire had spread to the scattered papers and journals on the floor.

Smoke hadn’t reached your nose until you heard Norm’s shouts behind you. And the reddened vision began to fade into orange flames.

Somehow you were always surrounded by fire.

Behind you, Norm shouted, “What did you do?!”

You hadn’t responded. All you did was threw the worn golf club down and remained there in the room.

A shadow of yourself among the flames.

“What happened?” Jake demanded once he spotted Norm’s avatar approaching.

Just moments before, he had received reports from scouts near Hell’s Gate that there had been some type of fire. Though it wasn’t huge it was still enough to spook the locals and anger a certain Olo’eyktan. Not long after, he got a call from Norm, saying he had to meet with him urgently before Jake took off on his ikran to check out the fire. Although, he briefly wondered why he couldn’t just fly over to Hell’s Gate and meet up with him.

Norm was already on the way. So Jake had waited until he showed up.

After hopping out of the landed Samson ship, Norm raised his hands cautiously, “Well, I can explain—”

“Make it quick,” Jake grumbled, adjusting his chest strap. “I was supposed to be heading out with the scouts to check out some fire. They said it was near Hell’s Gate, Norm. What the hell is going on over there?”

He didn’t mean to sound snappy or on edge than he intended. But after that RDA ship arrived, everyone—including him—had been on edge for the past few days. Jake couldn’t sleep. Tsu’tey’s nightmares were getting worse--his mother becoming more aggravating as the days passed. There was a lot that Jake tried to juggle, tried to manage to the point where someone would eventually have to tell him to slow down and take a breath.

But it seemed Jake could never afford to “take a breath”.

Neytiri—just ducked out of their shared hut with her bow at her side as usual—was one of the people who had to often ground Jake whenever the world, his duties, did get too much. Overwhelming. And when Artsut became savage, Neytiri would become brutal. She would defend Jake with her last breath. She would take him in her arms, pulling him out of the world for a moment, and just talk to him. Talk to him about Neteyam, her hunt, anything to bring some sort of sanity back to Jake.

And he was so grateful to her. So in love with her. But he didn’t deserve her love or her support. If he had been a good husband, a good mate, he would’ve known that. Every time she or Tsu’tey just loved him, there was always guilt squeezing at his heart. Until he lost oxygen.

So to breathe, Jake protected the clan as their Toruk Makto. Kept training and learning more about the Na’vi way as best as he could. Protected Neytiri. Protected Tsu’tey. Protected Neteyam.

Be the best mate that he could. The best father that he never had.

Other than that, what was his worth to them?

“You are in the way.” Neytiri frowned at Norm. Even if Jake and Norm were friendly, Neytiri still wasn’t well adjusted to his presence—which was fair. Any human presence in the village had her on edge. “What is it you want, dreamwalker?”

Norm quickly spoke, “The fire has been contained, it didn’t spread anywhere. The only thing that was damaged was the building it started in.”

Okay, that was somewhat of a relief. But Norm didn’t look like he was done, which was why Jake couldn’t relax entirely at the news. “—It was mostly an accident. Dr. Reeds, she wasn’t in her right mind—”

“Reeds?!” Jake snapped. Of course, it was the new human that did this. Of course, you’d instantly have to start causing problems the moment you arrived here. “How the hell did she get access to a lab in the first place?!”

Norm sighed, “It was her mother’s lab. Something in there must’ve triggered her. She destroyed everything. The hard drives. The manual files. A lot of valuable research was lost.”

What was the goal here? Why pretend like to not want anything to do with Pandora or the RDA and then go and pull a stunt like this? 

In the corner of his eye, he noticed Neytiri’s face change slightly. It softened--only a little bit. And she was noticeably quiet, not having anything to say about the fact that you started the fire. A human. Which, once more, she was uncomfortable around.

“How long until she’s off this planet?” Jake instead scowled, earning a surprised look from both Neytiri and Norm.

Norm looked nervous, “That was another thing I wanted to tell you. We don’t have the resources to send her back. There’s just no way. The ship that she came in is already destroyed by the attack. We have nothing—Dr. Reeds is pretty much stuck with us.”

“Bullshit!” Jake hissed.

“We should bring her to Tsahik.”

Both men looked at Neytiri in shock. After a beat, Jake responded, “What?”

Neytiri nodded surely, “We bring her to Tsahik. She will know what to do with her.” Jake still stared at her in bewilderment. She gave him a meaningful look before addressing him in Na’vi. “You did not see it, Ma’Jake. The atokirina. They were there the day she arrived. And came again when she went to see her mother. It happened to you too. The Great Mother is telling us something. And we must hear her.”

Jake was thrown off. No, he was confused. Because Neytiri was usually the one fully against the Sky People. She held a fit of righteous anger toward them, the same for Tsu’tey. Those two would be Team Get-Rid-Of-Humans-Altogether. But now?

It wasn’t necessarily out of character though. Neytiri had always believed in Eywa. She did with him when the atokirina came to him when they first met. When she saved him--even though she could’ve just as well left him to die to those thanators. Now wouldn’t have been any different if the same thing happened again.

That didn’t mean he had to be convinced.

Jake turned back to Norm, “I want to talk to her.”

Norm sighed, “I don’t know if that’s a—”

“I want to know who exactly we’re dealing with here. She’s already shown how destructive she can be. How do we know she’s not capable of doing worse?”

Surprisingly, instead of a look of understanding—which was often Norm’s character when it came to the natives—he wore something close to offense. “She’s grieving, Jake. And yes, I know we aren’t exactly on good terms with humans outside of Pandora—but she isn’some monster. She lost her mother for Christ’s sake! It may have been years ago for us but for her, it happened a few days ago! This is all understandingly jarring to her. We have to—” He sighed tiredly, massaging his face. “At least consider that when you do talk to her. The wound is still fresh.”

Jake’s ears twitched, his walls still up. Norm could’ve been right, he could’ve considered this. And he would. He would keep it in mind.

But this situation, all of it was just terrifying. 

His nightmares, his fears—it felt like it all just came true the moment they saw that RDA ship. And in that moment Jake thought about the home he had only just started for himself. His mates—the loves of his life—his son who wasn’t even one—and the child that wasn’t even born yet. He felt, in that brief moment, all of that slipping from his fingers and burning away.

Jake was surrounded by fire. He was always surrounded by fire.

“I’ll talk to her.” Jake reiterated. He called for his ikran and seconds later Bob came flying down and landed in front of the three of them. Jake got onto the saddle and looked to Neytiri, his scowl softening. “Tell Mo’at I’ll bring her over in an hour or two.”

Neytiri nodded and rushed off. Norm shifted on his feet and pursed his lips, “Please don’t make her go all She-Hulk on you.”

Jake rolled his eyes, “I’ll meet you there.” and Bob took off.

At some point, you had fallen asleep.

Your body wouldn’t allow you to fight it any longer. Apparently, you hadn’t gotten much rest since your arrival on Pandora. It’s a wonder you didn’t pass out until now.

But then again, you were too much of a light sleeper to get a nice complete rest. Any noise, unfortunately, woke you up from your well-deserved sleep. And when you sat up and blinked the sleep away, exhaustion still weighed down your shoulders.

You looked down at your hands. There were leftover red markings from your tight grip on the golf club from earlier. 

When were your hands ever unmarked? You couldn’t remember.

The songcord was thankfully still in your pocket. You must’ve snatched it in time before being dragged out of the lab and thrown back into a cell again. That was the one thing keeping you sane here surprisingly. Holding your mother’s songcord close to your chest, letting it always touch your skin, and studying each bead every time you brought it out.

It always ended with the bone. Always. Always.

In the corner of your eye, you noticed some ash on your shirt sleeve.

Someone cleared their throat.

You looked up and then found Norm standing in front of your cell. The glass was gone. He nodded his head toward the doorway leading out of the cell room, “Jake wants to talk to you.”

You blinked, “Who the hell is that?”

“Come on, work with me here, Doc.” Norm sighed as you sluggishly got up from the cot. Gently, you tucked your mother’s songcord back into your pocket. “You met him when you first arrived here. Remember when you asked to see your mother? He was there. He’s Toruk Makto to the Omatikaya. He’s a great warrior to the People….and believe it or not he used to be like us. Human.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment as Norm led you out of the cell room. “Okay, why does he want to talk to me?”

“Because believe it or not, Reeds, you and Sully are a lot alike. Even if he doesn’t realize it. If anything, he’s probably your best bet.”

“And if he isn’t?”

Norm frowned but didn’t look at you. “I’m not sure.”

This time, you didn’t go outside—thank god. 

Instead, Norm led you to another room on the ground floor. You were quite startled to find that in this room were a bunch of tanks, occupied with many more avatars. They looked unused compared to the ones you’ve seen roaming about on the grounds.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to wonder if some of these belonged to the people who used to live here. The ones that were exiled.

There was only one avatar that stood among the sleeping ones. Or a Na’vi.

Jake Sully. This great warrior once like you. A human.

He was near one of the tubes. Looking particularly focused on this one. You couldn’t see clearly just which avatar he was looking at. Nor did you try to.

“Please, behave.” Norm squirmed. He was looking at both you and Jake when he said that before ducking out of the room.

Leaving just the two of you.

Jake finally tore his gaze away from the tube to look at you.

“You wanted to see me.” You stated rather than asked. Better to get straight to the point than to talk around it.

He sized you up carefully and frowned, “You nearly burned down a lab.”

“My mother’s lab, yes. As I currently understand it, she made it pretty clear that I was to be her successor before she passed.” Your tone was clipped. Steel gaze unwavering from his observant and stern one. “Which, I believe, means I can do what I want with it.”

“And so you thought destroying it was smart?” He scowled, obviously annoyed by your apparent unconcerned attitude. “You could’ve burned down the forest with your recklessness—if that wasn’t already your goal in the first place.”

You snorted humorlessly, “Fuck off.”

“This place has already seen war. We don’t need more of it—”

“Sure, that’s fine. So, how exactly am I going to start a war? By existing? The only person you needed to worry about starting a war is already dead so no need to worry about that anymore—”

“I don’t think you fully understand what’s going on here.” Jake snapped, yellow eyes blazing in your direction. “To the natives, you are just another infection that they have no problem getting rid of. They will kill you—especially after that little stunt you pulled with your mother’s lab. And your little attitude sure ain’t gonna fix shit for yourself—”

You laughed. And it was a sharp sound too. “I’m sorry, should I be weepy and pathetic instead? Is that what you want? The poor defenseless human whose shit outta luck? Well, I got news for you, buddy.”

His face was hard. His presence, intimidating. A Marine. Anyone would’ve faltered around him. Reconsidered their moves. Softened their spine.

But your spine was dripping with venom. And your moves were unpredictable and hazardous. Something he couldn’t contain.

Jake finally huffed, shaking his head, “Norm thinks I can help you—and I’ve known him for long enough to know that. But I can’t help someone who refuses to listen. I can’t help someone uncooperative. I can’t help a loss cause.” You glared at him. He glared back. “I understand your loss, believe me, I do. But what happens next is out of my hands. Whatever happens next is on you.”

You shrugged, every word felt like you were tasting blood with how pissed off you were, “Then it’s a good thing I don’t need your fucking help then.” Jake’s nose flared, tail lashing behind him in barely contained anger. “So why am I still on this planet? If I’m such a bother to you, a loss cause—in your words, why am I still here—”

“Because there’s no way to get you off of it,” Jake snapped.

He sounded as if he didn’t like the truth coming from his own mouth. You, on the other hand, were flabbergasted. 

So you were stuck on a planet—the same one you were forced to fly to? The same one where a bunch of Na’vi people looked at you as a moving target?

What the actual fuck?

You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. 

But every bit of your energy had gone after your rage at your mother’s lab. All you could do was feel the exhaustion get worse and your power failed you. Anger seemed too much effort to muster now. All there was…

Sluggishly, you looked up at the ceiling with a long drawn-out sigh.

Why were you even so adamant about going back home? 

What was even left for you there? Your mother was gone and so was her forest, the one thing you promised to continue while she was gone.

But you failed. The forest was gone—hell five years have passed after you left Earth. There was probably nothing even left for you to do there.

There was no point in you going back. It was all over anyway.

God, you were so exhausted.

You looked back at Jake to find him watching you quietly, now deciphering your reaction. The severity in his face was still there but now well restrained by his guarded expression. Probably wondering if you were going to throw another rage fit.

You wanted to.

Instead, you muttered, “So, I’m stuck here. Fine. What will you do with me?”

There was a long pause before Jake responded. “I can’t decide that. Our Tsahik wants to see you. Maybe she’ll figure it out—if our Ole’eyktan decides otherwise.”

“So, I’m as good as dead.” You said, almost acceptingly.

He made an uncommitted sound. Another pregnant pause went by.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to burn the forest down. Your odds could’ve been better.”

You chuckled bitterly, moving toward one of the tubes. You didn’t recognize the avatar but you studied it anyway. “If I hadn’t done that then the RDA would’ve gotten their hands on research having to do with recreating your little neurotoxin. You know that shit you use on your arrow tips? My mother discovered a way to recreate it. She died protecting that secret. And now I destroyed it permanently so no one could get their hands on it.” 

His ears twitched at this—it steadily reminded you of a cat. 

You looked up at him bleakly. “You're welcome.”

Jake didn’t say anything. You just kept staring at the random avatar. 

Somewhere in your mind, you were intrigued by it. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remembered that there was one waiting for you to use.

You wondered if you would ever be able to use it. To muster the strength to use it.

“We should go.” Jake finally said. “The Tsahik is waiting.”

taglist: @doggyteam2028 @slutforsmut4ever @lik0 @bigbootahjudy @innercreationflower

#avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar jake sully #avatar jake #avatar jake sully x reader #avatar jake x reader #jake x reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully #neytiri avatar #neytiri x reader #tsu'tey x reader #neytiri te tskaha mo'at'ite #neytiri sully #tsu'tey te rongloa ateyitan #atwow #tsu'tey x y/n #jake sully x y/n #dilf!jake sully #dilf!jake sully x reader #avatar angst #jake sully angst #neytiri angst

[paper-mario-wiki]

hi, i'm not the person who asked you about the life update, but could you elaborate on how being a creator means to live in a world of ideas instead of the real world? i'm just really curious about your reasons for quitting, specially because i want to create things in the future (not necessarily streaming, but anyways), hope you have a good day!

i'll be talking mostly about streaming for the sake of this answer, but this is similarly applicable across a wide range of platforms:

the job of the streamer is, effectively, to be the life of the party every single day. your goal is to be the person that has something interesting to talk about, and is quick with a joke, and has nuanced understandings of certain things, without actually obtaining any sort of "expertise" in anything lest you alienate viewers. short of having a stated goal for a stream, the only goal of the streamer is to let people relax with a voice they enjoy, saying things they like hearing. you can become very strong in different aspects of streaming, like in the production, or as someone who focuses more on a skill they've honed like art or speedrunning, but the demographic of streamers which pulls, by far, the most significant viewership, is personality based streamers.

this becomes more complicated when, for example, you are very interactive with chat, or you stream with multiple people at once. now, to maintain this charismatic sway you have (the one that got you the job in the first place), you must be able to adapt to and bounce off of other people, as you are now no longer performing alone. naturally, there's a need to not only manage your own flow of consciousness, but also to be at least partially in sync with someone else's.

beyond these complications, you must also consider drawing in new viewership. when i was a streamer, i was quite successful, relatively speaking. pulling 300 viewers consistently is something a very slim amount of streamers can actually do, and even then i was still making under 50k a year, which is not bad, but also not good. in paying for my apartment, my insurance, my travel fare, and all the other stuff that living independently draws money out of you with, i was more often in the red than i was in the green. hence, the need to draw in new viewers, which cannot be done without something eye-catching.

think about this: there are, at any given time, TENS OF THOUSANDS of streamers live in your native language on twitch, and they are all FREE TO WATCH. the attention market is sparse because the streamer market is oversaturated. and considering all of THEM want new viewers too, everyone is constantly refining and improving their craft, which requires everyone to move creatively in tandem with each other lest they get left behind.

if you are a streamer making ass-dollars and ass-cents, it becomes easy to begin resenting people like jerma, solely because everything he touches seems to turn to gold. i personally found it easy to feel very disappointed in myself when peoples projects that seemed so simple would take off. it was a constant "why didn't i think of that!" situation, at least for me. and when you don't have the energy to keep that up, or the social stamina necessary to figure that all out while also being upbeat and happy in front of people near daily, it can become very draining.

what i mean specifically when i say the "world of ideas", is like. there would be times where i could schedule out my failures weeks in advance. i'd be so in my own head about the process, i could see the exact path i could see myself taking that would lead me directly to ruin. how playing games i actually enjoyed would steadily drop viewership, or how focusing on my studies would make people forget about me. and of course this is augmented by my anxiety, i know this is absolutely not the case for every streamer, but that overwhelming feeling of needing to find a new game to play, or a new gimmick to use, or a new ploy to get money that doesn't make you feel guilty even though your source of income is mostly queer and mostly poor young adults and your rent is coming up and you're $200 short but you also just had a fundraiser last month about a DIFFERENT emergency but you cant make it a bummer or else people wont want to tune in so you have to make it something fun like "you laugh you lose!" or "$1 art request streams!" while feeling nothing but anxiety while youre trying to sound like youre enjoying yourself even when youre asking 250 people to donate every 30 minutes or so and nobody seems to want to and chat is moving slowly and. and and.

well, it starts to eat away at you.

#anon

[pix3lplays]

Honkai star rail men parenting headcanons

Dan Heng: Dan Heng would be a very strict, serious father. He’s a little distant, but he loves his children, even when he has a hard time expressing that. His children will be well-behaved and a little uptight, just like their dad. He’s very nervous about having kids of his own, but he handles it pretty well, even though he’s a little too strict. His kids appreciate his efforts when they’re older, and they respect their dad. He has a tendency of sheltering them though, so they don’t have to go through the kind of stress and anxiety he goes through. A ‘because I said so’ dad. He would have 1-2 children.

Gepard Landau: would also be a strict parent, but unlike Dan Heng, he’s able to be more open and honest about his emotions with his children. He explains things to them a little better than Dan Heng. He also wants them to grow up having fun and enjoying life, and that’s where Auntie Serval comes in. Even though he thinks she’s a little too reckless with the kids sometimes, he appreciates her help teaching them how to enjoy life. He knows he’s too uptight with the kids sometimes, so he strives to be like Serval on occasion, which leads to mixed messages with the kids. But it’s okay! Overall he’s a very good dad, strict but gentle and fair, and knows when to allow fun if the moment is appropriate. He would have 3 children.

Jing Yuan: is basically already a father to Yanqing, so when it’s time for his own kids to come along, he’s very prepared and very ready to be the best father he can be. He’s not strict and his rules are fair, and he’s very gentle with his children. However when the time comes for discipline he is not going to be overly lenient. He knows discipline is necessary, and he gives it when it’s required. He teaches them to be gentle human beings, especially through interacting with animals. He wants them to grow up kind-hearted and respectful, and he does a great job at training this into them. He’s not nervous at all to be a father, at least, if he is he doesn’t show it to you. He’s a natural at this parenting thing, and even though he’s a very busy man, he strives to make time for his family when he can. He would have 1-5 children.

Welt Yang: was surprised when he became a father. He kinda figured he was too old for this sort of thing, but here he is now. He’s a fairly decent dad, a little strict and uptight, but that’s because he’s so, so very nervous to be a father, whether he shows that to you or not. He’s constantly worrying about his performance as a father, and if his kids are okay. Not necessarily a ‘helicopter parent’ but pretty close. His anxiety sometimes rubs off on his kids, and they tend to worry about things that haven’t happened yet, like their father. He feels bad about passing his anxiety to his children, but because of it they end up careful and aware of their surroundings, just like dear old dad. They love their father, but sometimes he’s a bit overwhelming. He loves to draw his children, they mean the world to him, after all. He would have 2-3 children.

Sampo Koski: any kids with Sampo are purely accidents. He doesn’t want kids, he thinks he’d be a bad father and it’s true. Maybe deep down he does love his kids, but he’s a very absent dad, always away at ‘work’. And when he does come home, he’s not good at discipline or interacting with his children, and he tends to just buy them whatever they want to keep them out of his hair. Let’s them get away with whatever as long as they leave him alone, but the problem is they tend to act out just to get their dad’s attention. It’s a real issue having to raise the kids on your own. You argue with him about it sometimes, and he always pulls the same excuses and you just don’t know what to do about it. The kids don’t really…care for their dad. He’s just…some guy who lives with them. And yeah, he cares about his kids, he wants them to grow up healthy and happy, but he’s not supposed to be a father, he simply wasn’t meant to be one. He’d have 2-4 children.

thank you so much for reading~

#Honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #Dan Heng #hsr Dan Heng x reader #Gepard Landau #Dan Heng x reader #gepard landau x reader #hsr Gepard x reader #welt yang #welt yang x reader #hsr welt yang x reader #Jing Yuan #Jing Yuan x reader #hsr Jing Yuan x reader #Sampo Koski #sampo x reader #hsr Sampo x reader #My writing

[autumnnnsun]

Now that I’ve finished reading Hortus de Escapismo and Executor’s record, I really gotta ramble about Executor for a second and kinda talk abt how Arknights handles his lack of empathy trait that I really enjoy. This isn’t a proper analysis or anything just my thoughts I wanna vomit for a sec.

So it’s implied in Executor’s record that he just, wasn’t born having empathy despite being a sankta. Or at least he just naturally doesn’t have the same levels of understanding of emotion as other sankta. The part that I really like about it is how Executor’s Record and story in general doesn’t portray that as a necessarily bad thing.

His lack of empathy allows him to think in a way that is a lot more unique than other sankta. When his partner in his record story told him to sacrifice him, he still brought his body back to Laterano. One of the reason being because of a specific sentence in the will they were enacting (“I hope all Laterans return back to their home.” Smth that most people would assume is just smth the will writer wrote for some extra literary flare) but also because he disregarded his partner’s feelings. His lack of empathy is the reason why he did something good and that is very interesting to me especially when most people tend to demonise having low/no empathy.

I also just really like how in his record story, it’s emphasised that he knows what emotions ARE. He has developed a system with his parents to recognise and visualise emotions by drawing lines that represent them. He knows what it is, he can recognise it to a level where he can think of the next best course of action when confronted with it, he just doesn’t put much importance on it nor does he bother with understanding it for the most part. Especially if it’s something that will get in the way of his job. And I REALLY like that cus it reminds me of how people irl that have low empathy will develop systems to work around it and still be kind.

I know a lot of us joke about Executor being autistic and that’s funny and I like the jokes as much as everyone else, but low or no empathy is a trait of other mental disorders and disabilities and even as someone that hasn’t been diagnosed with anything yet it still feels kinda nice to see low empathy being portrayed in a way that isn’t villanious.

In fact, Executor having low empathy kinda makes him the best person in the room sometimes especially in Hortus de Escapismo. The part where he does a warning shot at Oren and Lemuen and essentially goes “Can ya’ll STOP I’m trying to do my JOB.” And essentially manages to stop a massacre because of it is so funny but also so fucking hype bruv. I like how in the end of the event when Executor was starting to ask more questions and have more doubts and was starting to let emotions affect his actions a bit more, it isn’t framed as like “Oh mah gerd, he’s learning empathy and being more hooman!”

Instead he’s asking questions and seeking to find solutions to them in his own unique way. Asking around and adding more variables to his thought process like a computer would (which has some implications that gets my lore brain churning but hrghrghrgh)

Top it all of with the fact that he is specifically a character that is born and raised in a society that values empathy. Being able to feel other people’s emotions is what makes you a sankta. And Executor, is one of the better sanktas because he doesn’t follow that rule.

God I love Executor, go son, thrive.

#autumnstext #arknights #executor #executor the ex foedere

[c0nfessions-of-a-writing-freak]

Tingling Screeches

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: After having the brilliant idea to watch a movie with your long-term crush at camp, things don't necessarily go your way as you get reminded just how much you hate horror movies.

Bingo: @eclipsingbingo with the square 'Horror Movie'

*Gif does not belong to me

Even though it was the middle of the day at Camp Half-Blood, your cabin was empty. Save for you and Clarisse of course. With the artful act of bribery, you were able to convince all of your half brothers and sisters to leave the small building completely empty for the next few hours all so you and Clarisse could watch one of the latest horror movies to come out.

It had taken some time trying to set everything up. Finding someone to supply you with a fully functioning laptop was one thing, but asking Clarisse to actually join you was another, even if you never explicitly asked her on a date, more of just a hangout. But you had done it and now you were sitting with her by your side cramped onto one of the bunk beds while the laptop sat in between the two of you.

Your choice of location for the laptop hadn't been the best as it left a good distance between you both, leaving no room for accidental shoulder brushes, though the popcorn that had also been propped between them could lead to some hand grazing. Still, it would be filled with butter.

The movie hadn't been the best decision either. When recommending a horror movie, you did it with the intent to spark Clarisse's interest, which you easily did since you had heard her talking about this movie in passing to her friends. But actually sat in front of it and watched the gruesome deaths of most of the cast, you were starting to think you picked something a little more suiting to your own tastes.

Every few seconds you seemed to jump, a quick thrash backwards into the pillow as if trying to push yourself away from the movie like you would do if on a quest and a monster was looming over you. You could feel your fight or flight instincts kicking in and though your body screamed at you to leave or at least turn off the movie, instead you ignored those feelings and stared forward, hoping that Clarisse was getting at least some enjoyment out of all of this.

When another scene flicked onto the screen, your immediate reaction was to whirl back, you felt a shift in the bed as the popcorn was moved and pushed to the end of the bunk along with the laptop. Your confusion was enough to draw you away from the movie as you looked over at Clarisse who seemed to be getting up.

You blew it, was the first thought that came to mind as you saw what you thought was Clarisse getting up. To your surprise though, she instead scooted herself over, plopping herself down directly next to you. Shocked, you couldn't utter a peep but had enough power to stare at Clarisse as she brought the food and movie back, balancing them on her legs before getting comfortable next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders in the process.

"What?" Clarisse muttered in a low drawl once she noticed your eyes and how they hadn't turned back to the movie. If you hadn't known what to say before, you were rendered speechless now. Up this close, you could see every spec of flaming brown in Clarisse's eyes, the way her hair coiled and how her lips tinged. Instead of taking your silence as being breathless, she took it as a challenge. "Can I not do something nice?"

"Of course you can," The words rushed out of you, quick to try and ease any growing tensions within Clarisse. Though they may have been rushed out, they seemed to do the job as Clarisse relaxed a little bit further, fully leaning against you while also pulling you closer as she turned to watch the movie.

You were content to stare at her for a few more moments before her voice came barreling towards you, "Watch the movie."

Then your head snapped back, eyes landing on the screen at the perfect time for a jump scare to come a few seconds later. A quick exhale of air as all the oxygen left your lungs matched with a small jump was your usual response to a certain scene like this.

Only this time, Clarisse had her arm wrapped around you, her fingers drawing circles into your skin as a comforter as she never drew her eyes off the movie. And by some miracle, you felt whatever she was doing starting to work.

Every time a new jumpscare or particularly gory scene was meant to pop up, Clarisse seemed to know in advance as she shifted, putting you in a position where there was no need to jump back as her comforting hold was already on you.

By the time the movie had reached its end, you hardly had to worry about a scene coming up, Clarisse giving you all the warning you needed to be prepared for when it did. So as the end credits came rolling in, the two of you slowly made your way to the outside of your cabin for some fresh air.

The light was blinding after spending well over an hour in the dark, but you didn't mind as you could still feel the presence of Clarisse near.

"So," You began, drumming your fingers along your thighs as you stood across from one another. With a halfhearted smile, you announced, "That was fun."

"Really?" Giving you a deadpan expression, Clarisse cracked a smile of her own. "You seemed like you'd rather fight the gods themselves than watch that movie again."

"So horror movies aren't really my thing," You nervously chuckled, ignoring what she had said in favour of not actually considering which option you would rather be faced with. "But I had you there with me, so it wasn't that bad. It seemed like you knew whenever something bad was going to happen anyway so I didn't need to worry too much."

"Yeah," Clarisse agreed. "I watched it the other day with one of my brothers but seeing it again was nice. Got to look at all the smaller details, you know?"

"Right..." You trailed off, slightly disappointed that it hadn't been the first time Clarisse saw the movie. You also couldn't understand what details someone would want to see in a movie like that.

"Anyway, it was fun. We should catch another movie sometime," She offered, making your mood do a full 180 as a smile split across your face. "I've got to go now anyway, strategies for later to plan. Maybe I'll see you on my team for Capture the Flag if you speak with your head counsellor."

"I'll get onto that," You called after Clarisse as she had already turned, a laugh echoing off her lips as she dashed away.

#percy jackson #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo series #percy jackon and the olympians #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #clarisse x you #reader insert #x reader #fem reader #fanfic #fanfiction #percy jackson series #pjo fandom #pjo show #eclipsing bingo #eclipsingbingo #dior goodjohn #camp half blood #rick riordan #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus

[heilos]

Hello! My name is Moriah and I am a junior in high school. I was wondering if I might be able to get your insight on a few questions I have?

I am in my final years of high school and am starting to think about college but I have no idea what I want to pursue. I know I love art, so for a long time I have been thinking about getting an art major or going to an art school.

I’m reaching out because I ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOUR ART and I think you are a very talented artist! I have been in love with your art for so long and I am curious and wondering how you are able to fit drawing into your life?

1.) If you went to college for art, what was it like? Do you think going to school for art or having an art major is worth it?

2.) how can I fit art into my everyday life? I’m sure you have work and other things to do in your life so how do you balance it out? (I just want to know how you can draw as much as you do!)

3.) do you do art as a full-time career or part-time career? is it an alright source of income? If it is a part-time career, how do you balance work, personal life, and art?

Thank you so much! And sorry if these questions might seem personal. I just want to know how other artist manage to draw and create their work and still have an adult life. Thanks again, and thank you for being a huge inspiration in my life to create the art I love! Your art means so much to me!❤️❤️ ❤️

Hi Moriah! Thank you so much for your patience since it took me a bit to answer this. I'll do my best to be as honest as possible. 1) I think going to college can be beneficial even if I wish i'd done things differently. In hindsight I would have definitely taken more time to really look through all available options instead of gunning straight for the most "prestigious" looking colleges since the idea of having a big name school on your resume was pretty prevalent when I was growing up. I went to Savannah College of Art and Design or SCAD for short and while I don't regret the friends I made there, I do regret not understanding just how much an institution like that ended up costing in loans compared to what I got out of it education wise. It always hurts my heart to see other kids get chained to huge amounts of student loan debt that could have been avoided. And even then you don't necessarily need a college degree for every type of art job. Your portfolio is what really matters more to prospective work places if you're looking at a career related to art. I would also keep in mind that the field is very competitive depending on what your goals are. Do you want to get into animation? game design? illustration? comics? prop design, character design or environment design? ect ect. Always try and give yourself the best advantage you can with researched knowledge of what you might be getting yourself into. Also there is no rush to go immediately into college even if you're dead set on wanting to attend one. Please give yourself as much time as you need to really make that decision and, if you have the option, don't feel pressured into thinking you HAVE to make that choice immediately out of high school. 2) I do get quite a bit of production art done on my days off mostly since I'm very experienced in working on group projects like Mystery Skulls Animated. When you're doing art and production work with other people, there's a different mindset in that others are relying on you to keep decently productive so that you're not holding up the pipeline if you're dedicated to seeing a project through to completion. Now when it comes to purely fun art on the side, I've actually only recently started balancing my time out better with work to sketch since the draw back of working on a group project like this for so long is a certain level of burn out. I had about a 2-3 year period where I couldn't get myself to draw much of anything even if I was excited about something like a new game or animated series and it's taken awhile to come to terms with the time lost since my body and head needed that time to recover and that's something i'm much more ok with now. I'm not the absolute best on advice for time management unfortunately, but seeking out projects that might interest you and lets you collaborate with other artists is definitely one way to keep yourself excited and engaged when wanting to make art. Just know and/or learn your limits and you'll be better about not getting too burned out when trying to find that decent balance of art time and other life activities. 3) I actually don't do art full time even if that was originally the plan back in college. I personally found out that I didn't want to turn it into a job the closer graduation came, but that varies completely from person to person and plenty of up and coming artists have found fulfillment in having art be their job too. I used to make prints for conventions so that was a partial income source for a little bit, but again for me it got tiring and I ended up getting a different more physical job to supplement my income while still being able to have enough time to stick around with my friend group on our music video projects. And again there's no shame in taking some time in trying to figure out if you want to make art your job and coming to a different conclusion. Sometimes the things we plan when we're younger take a wildly different turn out of left field and education or job aspirations are very much included in that.

#personal #personal ramblings #long post #college #art college #I hope some of these answers helped with your questions!

[eirian]

so me and eden talked about it and ive decided to take a sort of internet break with her, just for a week or so. i hate hate hate being so dependent on the internet (particularly social media) for both entertainment and socialization and i feel like being online so much and relying on it for SO LONG (since i was maybe 11?) has really been detrimental to my mental health. and since ive made rent for this month i feel like now is a good time to just step away for a bit.

i still unfortunately rely on the internet for my livelihood--i HAVE to take commissions in order to make rent, provide food, etc, so i wont stop posting art or taking commissions! i'll just be less social i guess. i wont make any posts or reblog anything, i'll just be posting art and contacting ppl abt commissions.

i want to spend more time with my wife. i want to go outside more. i want to hang out with irl people more (i literally have no irl friends). i want to go to meetups. i want to disconnect from the internet so bad i HATE relying on it as much as i do. i mean this so unironically i want to touch grass again

im ngl. i also talked w eden about possibly starting up an irl small business for my art--something along the lines of basically being a caricature artist again, but this time self employed. i'd have my own brand and go to parties and draw people, and volunteer at the local children's hospital sometimes too and draw the hospitalized kids. im honestly just trying to think of ANY job that would help me ease up on being so reliant on social media for income, if possible, that would still be fun for me and not absolutely kill my mental health like my previous irl jobs did. dont get me wrong i love drawing yalls ocs! but i cant charge as much as i should be b/c i dont have enough of a following/demand, so i have to take a lot of commissions before im able to make a decent living. it sucks.

if i could charge more to where i only had to take maybe 3 commissions a month in order to make rent, thatd be ideal. id still love to do commissions for a living! i love drawing your blorbos and i honestly dislike the idea of going back to caricature art--its not my passion by a longshot and its very stressful to do live art so quickly. but im just trying to think of anything to help at this point u_u i cant get on ssi b/c then we wouldnt be able to use my bank account for income and we'd basically have No Money To Do Anything Freely Anymore. so i gotta just. stick with what im doing. IDEALLY id be able to take commissions and post art while not being necessarily Active on social media anymore, but idk how to make that work just yet or if thats even a thing i could do..

anyway. TL;DR im going to take a semi-break from social media/the internet for about a week, but i'll still post art + take commissions + accept messages from close friends on discord. i want to HEAL, man

[st-just]

I think that the people moralizing their career paths were born from callout posts, honestly. Like there's a lot of information available online, including all of your pet career atrocities, from pharmacists to doctors to firefighters. And a lot of people bring these topics to light using social media, sometimes as a discussion point, sometimes as a bullet point in their callout (remember Mardoll). So I think that's where the need to be morally pure in all aspects of their lives comes from (cont

Cont) (also not defending mardoll just using xir as an example). But it's like, there is no such thing as a morally pure career. Some are worse than others, and if your job is to shoot people or build bombs I suggest you stop, but. I'm gonna judge the guy who says that there are no problems in his dairy farm and there never has been than the non-LEO park ranger who says "yeah the NPS has a really shitty history." I think that acknowledging this is the first step to making positive change.

re:

So I think that's a bit of it, but honestly I was mostly thinking of e.g. reporters, visual artists, basically every particular type of academic in the humanities, literary authors/poets.

Which like if I had to draw a connection here is that the remuneration for that kind of word is kind of ass and (not unrelated) the competition for one of the few slots where you even can do it for any kind of living wage is absolutely vicious. And both cause and affect of those dynamics is that being an ~artist~ or a ~journalist~ is prestigious entirely out of proportion to how much you actually make doing it, and as the money and competition gets worse the prestige gets more and more important to the (most annoying online minority of) the people whose identity is entirely tied up in doing that work. Hence 'if you don't have a BA can you really be trusted not to kill and eat the first guy who cuts you off on the highway?'/'if you don't have a portfolio on artstation do you even have a soul?'

(Related are nurses, schoolteachers, etc, where the money is better but the working conditions are so, so much worse that there's pretty much always a shortage of people willing and able to do it for what's offered, leading to what ime feels like mild industry-wide martyr complexes. Which are much messier because those jobs basically necessarily involve being in positions of immense power over some very vulnerable and dis empowered people).

#reply #anon #musing #uncharitable

[kagiura-akira]

some Hirano character analysis and hirakagi analysis below the cut because I'm in a mood but I'm also half asleep so I may not make much sense and I may be leaving out or forgetting established canon things

This is totally me projecting here but Hirano gives off vibes of having like... Extreme independency as a result of being given way too much responsibility from a young age. Kind of like in the way I- err, eldest children often shoulder the brunt of responsibilities for younger siblings and have the whole "I have to be responsible because Mom and Dad and everyone else are depending on me" thing going on sometimes. Though we know he's an only child so that's not exactly the situation but these are the vibes I get sometimes.

"Taiga-kun you're so smart!"

"You're such a good kid!"

"I'm so proud of you for doing that all by yourself!"

We know by now that these kinds of messages, especially when repeated from a young age, reinforce unhealthy self-expectations. And if he keeps setting the bar higher, now he's setting others' expectations of him, too.

We know that Hirano is driven to do well in school because he has a big goal (presumably something to do with planes), and that very well may be just because he wants to devote himself to something he's passionate about. And while I strongly believe that he's at least 50% goal-driven, a large part of me suspects that at least some of his drive to do well in school and take on as much responsibility as he does comes from a need to fulfill others expectations of him.

Be a good kid. Work hard. You're the most dependable after all. Grow up and get into a good school. Get a good job.

And it's not only adults. His peers, too. "Hirano, can you please ___?" "Hirano, explain this part of the textbook to me."

It's more of a hassle to deal with the perceived consequences of what happens when he doesn't act how he's expected to. So he just deals with it.

"Hirano is smart."

"Hirano is going to be so successful when he grows up."

"Hirano is always reliable."

It's hard to let go of these comments as time goes on, especially if they give him any sort of validation or indication that his hard work was worth it. He's stuck here, and it may or may not have anything to with it being rewarding in any manner. But regardless, he won't budge.

So now what? Might as well keep going. Study hard. Follow the rules. It all aligns with reaching his big goal, anyway. So why not go the extra length?

But sometimes he's not great at drawing the line, even when he wants to.

And Kagi gives him reason to keep going. He's surely exhausted, but Kagi has this infectious energy, and we know that Hirano loves that Kagi gives his all in things that he cares about (basketball). That inspiration could easily and likely did become something he's relying on more because self-motivation is fucking hard to sustain. Always being proactive or always being seen as "the responsible one."

But Kagi is a source of strength for him.

As much as Kagi relies on him for guidance and wisdom, and as much as Hirano takes care of him, Kagi more than makes up for it in the moral support he may or may not know he gives Hirano.

He's keeping him going. And Hirano says it himself when he says that he works harder when he's at his side. Because attitudes are contagious and Kagi is beaming with positive energy and almost as much drive as Hirano, though he's less passionate about his studies and more passionate about basketball.

Kagi may not be able to undo years of undue stress and Hirano's natural instinct of taking on excessive responsibility (though it's nowhere near as bad as Hanzawa), but he'll always be his number one supporter.

And if Kagi hadn't become involved?

His life wouldn't necessarily be miserable, but I wouldn't say his mental health would be smooth sailing either.

Kagi doesn't take away his responsibilities, but he does make them bearable.

#hirano to kagiura

[lara-prism-light]

Ladybug redesigns for my Miraculous rewrite.

I’ve always wanted to redesign Ladybug’s uniform, one of the most terrible and uncreative designs I’ve seen in na animated series! That’s why I made this redesign.

Ladybug now has a cape that also serves as wings, the underside of the headdress is based on Chinese dresses (I don’t know the name for sure). Her hair also grows out a bit and takes on a pink gradient. The antennae move depending on her mood, and Tikki also received a small change, she now has wings, the symbol on her forehead is more like a flower (based on her 2d design)

On her wrists she has bracelets that work as communicators, and when she needs something she opens one of the bracelets and from inside she can take any item that can help in battles.

Little ladybugs also come out of the bracelets, which attach themselves to civilians and protect them, like magic shields. She even has her Yoyo(I just forgot to draw it) as her main weapon, the Yoyo changes size and just like in the movie sometimes seems to have a life of its own.

She has the luck effect, na effect that affects all heroes, if she touches a hero they get a bust of luck, if she touches na akumatized with this effect activated she can steal their luck. Basically it’s na effect that can only be used once for both versions of this power.

Miraculous Ladybug does not rebuild or fix what was caused by the akumatized, and to purify the akuma she still uses her yoyo.

I made these changes to her for my future rewrite of Miraculous, now named “Miraculous Heroes”.

She, in addition to being the protagonist, is also the main strategist, she can think about solving problems but she is not necessarily responsible for defeating the villains, she as the holder of the Miraculous of creation cannot destroy the items in which some are kept, she needs the other heroes to destroy them and so she can purify them.

She takes this job seriously but also wants to be able to balance it with her everyday life. She is still a bit clumsy like Ladybug in the beginning, after all she just became a hero, and even containing the luck effect she is not 100% lucky, And sometimes when she busts the luck of others she ends up sharing part of her luck for them, leaving her almost out of luck.

Ladybug doesn’t have just one power anymore, she has several, and that counts for the other heroes as well, which will also have redesigns soon.

Hope you enjoyed this redesign!

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanart #miraculous lb #miraculous redesign #miraculous rewrite #ladybug redesign #miraculous tikki #character design #character art #character redesign #rewrite #miraculous fandom #miraculous fanworks #miraculous art #miraculous adventures of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous marinette #miraculous thoughts #miraculous writing #miraculous holders #miraculous fanfic #character drawing #character sketch #character writing #character info

[yonpote]

i really want to write a full analysis comparing dnp to that one stupid lil gay furry indie rock album with the dogs on the cover but that requires way more research than i thought... so for now here is a lyrical analysis of "Twin Fantasy (Those Boys)", the final song off the album Twin Fantasy (Face to Face) by Car Seat Headrest, and comparison to dnp wrt to their careers and lives.

the original context of this album and this chorus is that the narrator is reflecting on a tumultuous past relationship, at first viewing this romance through rose-tinted glasses (the dark, inside, fantasy) before finally being able to see the truth (the sun, outside, reality.) the pain of looking at the sun is the pain of revisiting the narrator's past. often times we use pain as an indicator that we are experiencing reality (pinching yourself to make sure you're not dreaming.)

these lines repeat throughout the song, yknow like a chorus...

the past few years of dnp's careers and lives have been very much on the reflective and introspective side. for them, the "fantasy" is the explosion of their careers, their success as creators, the audience who has stuck with them. of course all of this is true, but at the same time, the reality is that during the absolute height of their careers, they were in the closet, had repressed mental health issues, had overworked themselves, and had their boundaries frequently overstepped. and they have been reflecting on both sides of this coin.

the story and memories the narrator has retold will never disappear. the fond memories of the relationship will always be there, both figuratively and literally as they have been recorded in song form.

this is true for dnp as well. the memories that they share, both with each other and with the audience, won't go away. we will always have pinof 1. we will always have videos of them being silly and goofing off and just having fun with each other. and even when they have deleted stuff in the past, they are no longer trying to take any of it down and even reference deleted videos and old posts as they no longer have anything to hide in showing them.

dude im not even gonna analyze these lyrics i just wanted to add them here cuz like just fuckin read them what the hell is this gay shit this is so dnp (and also its the same concepts as seen above)

edit: i lied i am going to expand my thoughts on these lyrics

dnp have basically built their careers on having fun. they've taken jobs and sponsorships they didnt want necessarily, they were workaholic closet cases, but like. they always made sure to have a good time. you can especially see this in the very early videos as well as on the gaming channel, where they felt ever so slightly less pressure to put up a front. they LOVE creating stuff together, they love hanging out with each other, theres absolutely no denying this! theyre not kissing and theyre not fucking i mean who knows lmao but instead of interpretting that literally, its more like. thats not the point, that was never the point. are there shippers amongst us? yes fer sure, but that isnt what pulled us all in. what pulled us in was their connection, their dynamic, and how much fun they have on camera together!!!!!!! these two brothers lovers boys and their smooth-cocked youthful adventures!

the cover of twin fantasy is a very simple drawing of two anthropomorphic dogs in an embrace, their arms seeming to be conjoined, and the eye of one dog overlapping with the similarly drawn nose of the other dog.

dan and phil. are so symbiotic. how much of this do i have to explain... from the very start, from their first meeting. yes there are the superficial similarities (tall gay british emos who like the same media) but anyone can have those similarities. dnp knew immediately that there was a connection that they shared that was different from anyone else's. there was some sort of inescapable pull toward each other, call it fate or soul-bonding or autism, they simply could not keep away from each other even if they wanted to.

alright THIS. OK THISSSSSS.

ok ok so there are two versions of this entire album, and in the rerecording (which is what we're analyzing) some lyrics have been changed. this part is spoken word, and is completely different from the original. in the og (mirror to mirror) version, it seems the narrator is lamenting this awakening into reality, and breaking the fantasy for him is dark and twisted. in this new version, the narrator is no longer talking about himself in third person. he is Actually breaking the fantasy now, literally breaking the fourth wall, and directly addressing the person whom this album was written about. the contract is up, the names have been changed, aka, they no longer have to be tied down by this dark history. in the real world, the songwriter and this ex are still friends (or have become friends again?) and said ex even drew the art for the album that came after this rerecording. this story that the narrator had put out into the world, they no longer allow it to chain down what could happen in the future.

DAN AND PHIL. OK WAIT ACK OK so like circling back to what i was saying earlier about THEIR fantasy and reality, i mentioned how their reality was dark compared to the fantasy that they showed to us on youtube. and now they have shown us that reality. BUT AGAIN. they refuse to let that tie them down!!!! yes it took a few years of recuperation but they are creating stuff together again! AND AGAIN! the version of them that can exist outside of everything, is in their old videos. we can always go back! they will always be there for us (both dnp and the audience) to revisit. in theory i mean things get deleted but ykwim tho... the contract is up. they are no longer obligated by their management or by publishing or by radio to censor themselves or hide any aspect of themselves. the names have been changed. dan rebranded in 2017, but phil also very subtly and very slowly rebranded in his own way. the gaming channel literally came back from the dead, got a facelift, and yeah itll always be the same ole dnp banting and jesting but from the very first return video the energy is SO MUCH DIFFERENT and i PROMISE it is not just bc they are out as gay although OBV thats a huge part of it but they are just. happier! and more themselves! and its so visible in their faces and body language and tone and EVERYTHINGGGGG.

but listen, remember, these are only lyrics now. theres a version of them that exists outside of everything. and that version is in the old videos. yes they were closeted and overworked and mentally struggling, but they were still happy there too. and they never ever discount how happy those videos have made US. they know how much all of their older content means to us bc it means so much to them too. "you are as important to us as we are to you."

i'll end this with the last line, that repeats over and over before the song finally ends. this line can be interpretted so many ways imo, but i just think it generally ties together my entire thesis. thank you for reading my deranged gay rambling <3

when i come back, you'll still be here.

#mytext #myrambles #phan #i should start a tag for this thing ive been going on abt specifically. #reflections #there :) ill tag all my old posts abt this topic later cuz i do wanna revisit it #dnp

[luna-rainbow]

What draws you to a character? Is it moral conflict or cardboard good people ??

Oooh thanks for the interesting question but why do I get the vague sense this is bait 😅

Very few people with an ounce of writing experience or critical analysis skills likes “cardboard people” regardless of whether they’re good, bad, or anything in between. A cardboard person has not been written into a character. They’re just a collection of traits to serve a certain role in a story. Depending on the genre and their importance, that is not necessarily a writing flaw. When you have a 100 minute movie you cannot possibly develop every character. However, if your main character is a cardboard person that means the writer hasn't done their job and by gods other writers pick up on that. Nat, for example, was not a character in IM2, she was a cardboard femme fatale, because she had no inner world and no inner conflict to speak of.

On the converse, a well-written character will always have conflict , regardless of whether they’re good, bad, or anything in between! And a good conflict, one that has complexity - both ethical and emotional - will reveal layers about a character's value systems and psyche and make them a whole person, and that's what I like.

As I've always said, the first character I liked in the MCU was Tony, because here is a guy who was introduced to us self-centered and has it all, then you realise how little he has in term of human relationships (partly due to his own doing), and in the end he lets go of some of his material possessions and earns human connections. The second character I loved was Loki, because he's not a bad guy by nature, and he's perpetually torn between genuine love for his adoptive family, and anger at the lies they built around him and the identity they took away from him. The third character I loved was T'Challa, who through a fairly small role in Civil War was able to go through an entire conflict around grief, loss, compassion and forgiveness.

I came to like Steve and Bucky after I've gotten some context about 1930s America that the movies didn't give us. Steve's entire existence is a conflict with the world. He starts off the direct opposite of the eugenics ideal (I want to say 'save for the colour of his skin' but eugenicists scoffed at the Irish, so his colour didn't give him an advantage there) then through the serum became the Aryan ideal. He himself continually questions and disobeys the system that has tried to make him into an avatar for their agendas. He yearns of moving forward but the only way he seems to do that is after he finds the piece of his past that he had let slip through his fingers in the alps. And Bucky has a similar arc, how does he marry the identity that was forced upon him to who he once was and who he now wants to be? He is also trying to move forward, but can only do that by reconnecting with the past that was forcefully taken from him. Speaking without the shipping angle, Bucky is Steve's narrative mirror, and very similar conflicts drive their stories (which is why Endgame did the equivalent of narrative suicide by making Steve just...abandon all his conflicts and leaving Bucky to continue on with the same conflicts without his mirror) and there's something delicious in exploring that.

Conflict doesn't have to be just the character choosing between right and wrong, although that is a common conflict. You can have a pure good character forced to be in conflict with people around them and that can still be an interesting conflict (when well-written), and it doesn't mean that the character is "cardboard good".

If this ask is about Peggy -- I might enjoy her character if the story had the self-awareness to recognise the moral conflicts in her character. But it doesn't. It writes her as a series of contradictions and presents her as the perfect model of goodness. She fails at even being a cardboard character.

#writing #anti endgame #bucky barnes #steve rogers #anti peggy carter #asks

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

OC in Fifteen Tag

Thanks for tagging me, @reininginthefirewriting! :D

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

I'll do this for Yo-han from The Unfortunate Moth and Silver Glass:

"And that, gentlemen, is the explanation for the incredible disappearing jewels, and the reason you were given extra work and sent on a wild goose chase."

"Being able to question suspects in their own language is an advantage. Being able to understand what they say to each other when they think I'm an ignorant foreigner is an extra advantage."

"But murders aren't nearly as common as detective novels make out. Most of my cases are jewel robberies, frauds, political scandals, and blackmail."

"Only one thing doesn't fit here. The watch. How did it end up on the floor?"

"Miss Patton, this murder was carefully planned in advance. For days the killer knew what they would do and never let it show. While you went to pieces with the strain of trying to conceal the murder for a few hours. On that score alone I believe you are innocent."

"If you don't mind my asking, what are all those… drawings?"

"Right now everyone who had an opportunity to commit the murder is a suspect. That includes very unlikely people indeed, like the deaf old lady and Miss Patton herself. When I learn more, I can eliminate names from the list. Would you mind telling me where you were at the time of the murder?"

"Playing loud music without regard for the neighbours does not necessarily mean a man is rich."

"In short, we have a murderer with a fondness for gambling, a knowledge of disguise, music, and carpentry, and no steady job. That description would fit an actor very well. Don't you agree, Mr. Colman?"

"Believe that if it gives you comfort."

"The real killer just walked off the ship and escaped into Sydney."

"Hyeon-su, could you please stop talking for five minutes?"

"Who is she, and why do you believe she's poisoning you?"

"Perhaps you should explain from the beginning."

Tagging @eccaiia, @illarian-rambling, @hallowedfury, @buffythevampirelover, @revenantlore, @silassghost, and anyone else who wants to do this! :D

#tag game #writing #my writing #my WIPs #WIP: moth #WIP: glass #the case files of seo yo han