#that is just my current interpretation of what is happening

[pianokantzart]

My Theory on Pachacamac and The Iblis Trigger

There is talk about how much they changed Pachacamac from a warmongering, power hungry tribal leader, to a goofy grandpa figure, but I think the truth of Pachacamac's nature might be somewhere between the two interpretations. Despite his friendliness, you can't forget he did lead a clan that wiped out the owls with a singleminded focus on capturing Sonic and reclaiming The Master Emerald. Pachacamac, now a ghost, has visited Knuckles to tell him he needs to expand his tribe. There are no other echidnas left, so he asks the sole survivor to take on an apprentice. "Show him our customs, teach him our traditions, and soon our tribe will grow once again."

There is no acceptance or acknowledgement of the fact that the clan's current situation is the result of a bloody feud and the destruction of an entire race besides their own. There is also, unsettlingly, no acknowledgement of Tails, Sonic, or The Wachowskis as members of Knuckles' clan.

While there are questionable elements to Pachacamac's approach, his motivations are at least understandable. Knuckles is a minority– the last of his tribe and the only surviving member of his species, so of course his old chief wants to see their traditions and culture preserved.

Things only get really weird when Pachacamac takes hold of Wade– Knuckles' apprentice and the soon-to-be new addition to their clan–and rewrites history. Rather than the tale of a lone owl that the echidnas hunted down in a quest for power, the story is instead of an entire flock of owls that were the aggressors, killing off Knuckles' tribe and burning down his village for no reason other than for the sake of the slaughter.

Similarly, Knuckles isn't described as a lost child left behind, but a fellow warrior who battled alongside his father until the bitter end.

So, knowing that Pachacamac's version of events is wrought with lies leads to one very serious question: What is the true story of Knuckles' battle with Iblis? If there's one thing we know about The Echidna Clan, it's that they are fixated on raw power. They're a warrior-focused society where the best fighter gets the highest honor and the most privileges. They were the ones who crafted The Master Emerald from the seven chaos emeralds. They were the ones who tracked down Sonic when he was a child with the intention of obtaining his power, before Long Claw wiped them out in her final struggle.

And who else do we know that was accidentally unleashed in a reckless pursuit of power?

Iblis, the raw power of the sun god Solaris. Iblis, who was sealed away within a child using the power of the chaos emeralds.

Now, there's no doubt that "The Flames of Disaster" in the SCU are very different from "The Flames of Disaster" in Sonic 06. In the movie universe the flames are merely a type of wieldable power rather than the name of an apocalyptic event. However... what better way to rewrite the fact that the echidna tribe nearly caused the end of the world and locked an immortal fire demon within an echidna child, than by pretending that The Flames of Disaster is just an inherent ability Knuckles unlocked through an epic battle?

What if "The Flames of Disaster" wasn't a power he obtained through a magnificent fight, but a power he survived after it was thrusted upon him by his elders? ... What if one of the many, many reasons reasons his father didn't let him join the fight was out of fear of what would happen if he cried?

#This theory nuts but that's not going to keep me from seeing it as canon until proven otherwise #Anyways I don't trust that Pachacamac ghost not one bit #Knuckles the echidna #sonic the hedgehog #sonic wachowski #knuckls wachowski #sonic headcanons #knuckles series spoilers #long post

[kaycares22]

At 7:36 AM on a Tuesday, Draco stumbles out of her personal Floo. It sounds like he tumbles out, and Hermione gasps as she whirls around to face the hearth in her kitchen. He’s bent over with his hands on his knees, catching his breath. She’s never seen him look less put together.

“Draco. What’s wrong?” There’s a wild look in his eyes as he straightens, staring at her in a way that makes her feel more vulnerable than when he had her skirt hitched up around her waist seconds after he placed a silencing charm on the door to her office yesterday. She’s grown used to his touch, his taste, his presence in her life in stolen moments. But a wake-up call is outside the protocol of their trysts.

Not to mention that his face is currently whiter than the white blonde of his hair.

“What happened?” she asks when he continues to stare at her with wide gray eyes instead of answering her question. “What’s wrong?”

His hand shakes as he raises it to run it through his hair. “The tapestry,” he finally rasps. “The bloody fucking tapestry.”

“The…?” Hermione frowns as she watches his Adam's apple bob with the force of his swallow. He runs his hand through his hair again, and she thinks to herself that he looks spider-webbed, seconds away from shattering with the force of a breeze. “Here. Come sit.”

Draco’s hand still shakes in hers when she takes it, but he lets her lead him to one of the stools at her counter. He stares at some spot over her shoulder, almost despondent in his panic, until she presses her palm against his cheek. She ignores the voice in the back of her mind that questions why this feels like the most intimate way she’s ever touched him.

His eyes have that same wild quality when he stares back at her. “What happened to the tapestry?”

Rubbing a hand over his face, he mumbles something to himself that sounds like Didn’t think this part through. His hand covers his eyes for several long seconds before he finally lets it drop away. But then his eyes roam her body like he’s searching for an answer, and she wishes he’d cover his eyes again instead.

It catches her off guard when he asks, “How do you feel?”

“How do I feel?” she repeats, sounding daft even in her own ears.

“Do you feel… normal?”

Draco’s eyes scan her body again, and she crosses her arms over her chest to lessen that feeling of being laid bare before him. “I don’t even know what that means.”

“Is there something you need to tell me?” He shifts directions as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. And Hermione feels exasperated.

“Draco, what the hell are you getting at?” she sighs.

He falls silent again, but at least this time he holds her gaze. Another swallow, another bob. Another shaking hand through his hair. And then his voice a thin rasp again when he says, “You appeared on my family tapestry.”

Her blood freezes in her veins. She has no idea what that means, and she’s certain she knows what he just said at the same time. But her brain refuses to accept that interpretation. “I- what?”

“Granger, you are now on the Malfoy family tapestry. Which could mean that when you got me drunk on firewhisky last Friday, I married you and managed to forget.” Her stomach flips at the easy way the word married rolls off his tongue, but something in her mind screams at him to stop there.

Marriage. Period. Full stop. As far as this train of thought goes.

But instead, he levels his gaze with hers again as a muscle twitches in his jaw. “But there would be a line connecting your name to mine. Not an empty circle with an hourglass beneath both our names.”

His eyes drop from hers to stare solidly at her middle. She rushes to cross her arms there, to hide it from his view. “That’s impossible.”

But even as she says the words, she hears the lack of sincerity. Impossible would mean she hadn’t been the one to kiss him first. Impossible would mean she hadn’t invited him back to hers that first time, telling herself the next morning that she had been a little too drunk when she hadn’t drunk at all. Impossible would mean he was still just her coworker, not someone who had traced every part of her with his hands.

It was very possible.

“You’ve been a bitch,” he adds, interrupting her thoughts.

“I have not!” She takes a step back to create distance. Her hand itches to slap him. He must sense it because his lip twitches despite the lack of color that remains in his face.

“You were all pissy with me last week when you misplaced your notes on the vampyr rights’ bill.” He waves a hand lazily towards her. “You’re pissy right now.”

“You called me a bitch!” she says, aghast. What had ever made her think it was a good idea to sleep with this man? And then to keep returning at various times for the last three months?

“Yesterday, my hand barely grazed your tit, and you flinched.” He cards a hand through his hair again. It looks unkempt now, and Draco Malfoy never looks unkempt. Neither of them. Neither of them ever looks unkempt because they are calculated and careful and intentional in everything they do.

Except for when she kissed him on an impulse after their co-authored legislation for the protection of centaurs passed.

Hermione has to fight the urge to raise her hand to her own breast to see if it’s still just as tender.

“Well, it’s impossible.” She sounds more sure of herself as she shakes her head and raises her chin. “I’m taking a potion.”

This time, his lip does more than twitch. It’s a sad kind of smirk he wears, and her hand itches again to slap it off his face. “Which would be canceled out by the antidote you took when you had that skin reaction to the asphodel.”

She had held her breath, waiting for him to point out all the potential flaws in her brewing her own contraceptive potion. But the way he takes his Double Mastery of Potions knowledge and easily points out the way her potions would counteract one another leaves her feeling faint.

Hermione feels the color leave her own face. But her stubborn resistance grows a reciprocal amount.

“Well, this is ridiculous,” she mutters as she storms across the room to her discarded wand on the counter. She turns back around to find that Draco is standing again, gripping the counter as if it’s a life raft. She waves her wand and mutters the detection charm, determined to prove him wrong.

And instead, a tiny gold light appears above her abdomen. Flickering like a rapid heartbeat.

Her knees buckle as her whole world upends. But Draco just stares at it with wide eyes, his expression a mixture of fear and awe as he whispers, “Well, fuck me.”

#dramione #draco x hermione #dhr #dhr fanfiction #dramione fanfic #draco malfoy #hermione granger #dramione drabble #my ficlet #guilty sinners #clever words

[qwesty-030]

what’s more painful

Finny forgives Gene but Finny dies

or

Finny lives but don’t exactly forgive Gene or at least can’t forget what Gene did to him so his relationship with Gene gradually dies away. No matter how hard they try to mend their relationship, it just doesn’t work out bc there’s always a sense of unease between them or it’s just too toxic. They gradually drift apart and they become heartbroken of what could’ve been and Gene feels even more guilty.

okay i’ll leave now

#asp #a separate peace #okay but bonus!!: years later they just happen to cross paths and they start conversing with each other #just casual talk like #‘hey how have you been doing’ #‘oh just #-> (​something about current life or whatever)’ #idk just a random thought in my head #while school has me in a chokehold #i feel this is just unlikely #to happen tho cuz they just cling onto each other so much #and Finny is just too forgiving of Gene #why would they drift apart exactly? #idk up to yalls interpretation #lol #i would like to see what yall think of tho!

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Honestly, Roxy and Vanessa friendship, especially when Vanny and Glitchtrap are a thing, is really interesting to play around with. Roxy has no reason to talk to her and no reason to ever trust her, especially when she knows about Vanny. Vanessa has every reason to tell her to fuck off, to go away and never come back to keep her from getting attached and inevitably caught and virus'd, but can't bring herself to force her away.

Mixing things from my old horse girl Roxy fic with my current setups, Glitchtrap/Vanny and new ideas for their friendship, makes this even more interesting. It puts Roxy in a very vulnerable position, the prime target for manipulation and being taking advantage of, but it also puts her in prime position to give Vanessa hope.

Roxy can tell who's talking to her, she knows when it's Vanessa and she knows when it's Vanny. She's honestly probably the only person that would believe whatever Vanessa says about what she's going through. The illusion disks don't work on her and she can always see them so long as they're in the building. If she figures out the Princess Quest connection? If she starts working on freeing her? Well, Roxy's the first hope she's had in fuck knows how long.

And the thing is, because Roxy can see it all, she has the power to recognise that what's happening to the other animatronics, is what has already happened with Vanessa. Not only that, but Vanessa is an outsider going through it. She knows she can't say anything too important around her, but she's such a lifeline as an outside perspective to her. She can tell her things that Roxy wouldn't otherwise be able to find out about, and has offered suggestions and advice to 'get rid of her' that's actually helped a lot. With how everything is, Vanessa has become one of the few people Roxy can still talk to, even if she has to be careful about what she says with her.

What else is interesting, is the absolute fascination Vanny can have with her. Neither Vanny nor Glitchtrap know what Roxy's deal is. They don't know how she knows who's talking to her. The first time Vanny switched in to try and manipulate her as Vanessa, Roxy asked for her name and it threw them so fucking hard. Roxy vanishes all the time, she mentions things she has no business knowing, she asks about things that have confusing implications, she has higher security clearance than them, she can kill the cameras in an instant, she can't be tracked like the others and weirdly enough, she seems to actually like talking to them. Maybe not Vanny specifically, but Vanessa? Why does she like her so much? Why does she keep coming back? How does she always know where they are? How is she always there to stop them getting up to shit? What's her game and how the hell is she playing it?

She's just different, and Vanny finds it intriguing. She hasn't had many openings to catch Roxy off guard and infect her yet, but she's also never been able to be in control of Vanessa without her knowing. She's clearly been isolated from the majority of the other animatronics for things that Vanny didn't even have a hand in. She keeps sharing little, inconsequential things with Vanessa, and giving her random shit she finds that she thinks she'll like, despite Vanessa trying to push her away. She's openly admitted that she knows what Vanny is trying to do to her and it's somehow still not stopped her. Honestly, she's starting to think she's playing the 'power of friendship' game to try and friendship her way through all of this...

And it would be really funny if she thought it was working. Like Vanny would normally get rid of things Vanessa likes but because Roxy is throwing them both for a fucking loop, she's found herself unable to do it. Vanny fucking hates this horse plushie Roxy very enthusiastically gave Vanessa, but she can't rip it up like she ordinarily would because what the fuck okay?? Why is she like this??? And it's the first time Vanessa has smiled since this all started.

Vanessa is rooting for her. She thinks this is part of her plan. After all, Roxy couldn't possibly actually see her as a friend, right? Vanny's right, it must be part of some master plan to deal with all of this!

And then it's over. The next time Vanessa sees her, Roxy hugs her in tears, thinking the worst had happened after that night. Or if it was Roxy that freed her, she returns to the office, a new horse plushie she found in hand, and is there waiting for her when she clocks in for her shift after a long break away. Turns out, it wasn't part of her plan. She just needed a friend.

#fnaf security breach #do you see what i mean??? roxy is the most BAFFLING animatronic to them #i don't know if Roxy WILL do all of that stuff specifically but i know she would do some of it at least #this is NOT intended as a ship thing but you can interpret it that way if you want #I'm not judgy i don't really care #i just. they're so interesting??? #obviously it's not always possible for roxy to come and see her later on but she could always leave little signs in her office to say hi #that's the thing with the current setup. Roxy is so much more isolated than before #she has the minis of course and she has the construction staff in a way #but dogs and wolves are such social animals that she still feels so lonely #she's been betrayed already and she's hurting and she's angry and so much is happening it's overwhelming #who can blame her for trying to make friends? #AND this could be a really fun parallel to Cassie and another animatronic if it plays out a certain way #if that friendship is what ultimately leads to roxy getting caught? well yeah... parallels my man #very interesting stuff!! i love it all!!! #i am entertained!!! i just think they're neat!!!

[stormyoceans]

please share them! you express yourself better than you think, i'd appreciate your input a lot 🥺

sfjksgfjs you guys are way too nice to me, im a mess at explaining myself and im afraid to say something wrong, but.. i'll try to quickly sum up my feelings and you guys can tell me what you think

i guess my main opinion is that now more than ever i shy away from an interpretation of vegas and pete that's too clear-cut and that tends to close them into very specific boxes. saying that pete is a ray of sunshine who is so good that he cares about vegas despite everything vegas put him through is way too over-simplistic and pete himself told us this episode: 'what do you know of this darkness?' vegas asked him, and pete's answer was 'i know it all too well'. in the same way, i can't really agree with interpretations that reduce vegas to a psychopath or, on the opposite, to a sad little boy whose actions are excused because of the abuse he also experiences

this is also why saying that vegas only needed someone to show him some love and acceptance feels like, again, a oversimplification of vegas and pete's relationship to me. like.. of course it's partly that, but if it was JUST THAT then he already had it with tawan, but vegas still didn't want a lick of it. also vegas worried about pete BEFORE pete talked about their fathers, which yeah, you can read it as vegas not wanting pete to die because otherwise he would be alone, and again it IS that but it's also more of that. pete has always been different, he's always been the one person to see through vegas' mask and he's the one person that won't bend or break in front of vegas' real self, which sets him apart from everybody else

what im getting at is that, with the two of them, it's really all about recognition of the self through the other. vegas and pete are each other's mirror: vegas is someone that pete could have become if he hadn't decided to end the circle of violence and chose to be different from his dad, and pete is showing vegas that he could be someone else other than this angry cruel thing he's let himself become

i think this is what the unpopular part of my opinion comes into play, because i kinda believe vegas and pete are, ultimately, two sides of the same coin. and not to bring literature into this, but they really are heathcliff and catherine from wuthering heights. i think 'whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same' is the perfect quote to describe vegas and pete's relationship, and please be aware that im not romanticizing it, because this isn't healthy and it isn't good, but it perfectly shows the inevitability of it all: for vegas it can't be anyone else but pete, and for pete it can't be anyone else but vegas, because in a way they ARE each other, which is why they're the only person who can see and understand and love the other in all their light and darkness

#this was.. way too long and a whole mess and i still don't think i got my point across like i wanted ;;;;;; #but yeah this is just my current interpretation of things and i could be very wrong #which is why is gonna be so interesting to see how next episode goes #also i don't know enough about stockholm and lima syndrome to clearly say if that's what's happening or not #but i do think we're throwing these terms around a bit too freely #and im shutting up now #im.. kinda afraid to put this in the tag but ;;;;;; #vegaspete #m: ask

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Poems: Day 6 (January 6th)

Godly Poison

I sowed and cultivated these plants myself

I brought them to life to bear fruit and flower

with my own bare hands and the loving patience of a proud parent

angel wings

autumn crocus

belladonna

calla lily

daphne

death camas

doll's eyes

foxglove

hemlock

larkspur

laurel

monkshood

moonflower

moonseed

mountain arnica

oleander

pokeweed

privet

ruti

snakeweed

and when the tide told me the time was right

I prepared and presented a feast full of my children

to Him

He who

says what He ought not say

touches what He ought not touch

takes what He ought not take

I admit

I took pleasure in His pain

as He once did with mine

blood pouring from His mouth

His body thrashing and convulsing in his chair

fear and sheer terror invading His wide eyes

I smiled through it all

and when his heart finally stopped

mine soared and I finally felt free

I know

one day

I'll be forgiven for what I had to do

and I know

He is not destined for any kindness

in the next life

- - - - -

Here's the link to the corresponding writing prompt post

#so ive gotten really far behind with posting these #lowkey ive been so focussed with just writing the poems (which i initially do by hand) that ive been putting off posting them #ive currently written all the way through the 14th but i do plan on writing at least one poem after posting this one #so yeah im gonna try to get caught up with posting the poems here soon #as for this poem there are multiple ways to interpret it and i feel all can be correct #i had a specific idea in mind while writing this but as i kept writing i saw more possibilities #so whatever you interpret is valid #that being said this is a fairly violent poem and its not really up to interpretation that murder takes place #anyway what happen on the 6th was that my girlfriend and i went to the house to do laundry #other than that i dont think we did too much #thanks for reading #writing #writer #creative writing #writing prompt #poem #poetry #writeblr #trying to be a writeblr at least #*happened #edit: my girlfriend and i actually got eye exams on this day (cant believe i forgot)

[godofsmallthings]

I’m sorry did you just say that you became a hetlor

must i label myself

#yes and no #currently enjoying just taking her at her word and interpreting songs through that lens #and letting myself be open to interpretations i was closed off to before has been very fun! seeing her work in a new light #and the malleability of it all #(simplified version: sweet nothings #''you say 'what a mind' / this happens all the time'') #((but also she has been with women u can pry that belief from my cold dead hands)) #ik i am shocked at this turn of events too but it's called growth babeyyyy! #ask

[yearofthediamond-dogs]

I'm christian now

#THE FINE LINE BETWEEN KNOWLEDGE OF MANIFESTING AND AWARENESS OF THE PRESENCE OF UNHINGED FUCKED UP UNFORTUNATE GENETICS #CURRENTLY I BELIEVE IF I THINK ABOUT IT GETS STRONGER. JANKY OUTPUT. CREATING MY OWN DEMISE #THIS SUCKS FUCKING ASS AND I ALSO HAVE APHANTASIA PRETTY MUCH SO I CAN'T COVER UP THE PATTERNS AND DISTORTED IMAGES OF EVERYTHING I DONT #WANT TO SEE BUT THEY'RE THERE AND FRACTALISED. SOMETIMES I CAN SEE IMAGES SO DISTANT AND BLURRY AND TRANSPARENT OVER THE BLACK BUT RN THEY #JUST DISSOLVE AND THE WEIRD SHIT TAKES OVER #I DON'T KNOW HOW TO HANDLE WHAT FEELS LIKE A 1/4 LOADED EGO DEATH #NOT THAT I'D MIND BUT I'D LIKE TO KEEP MY MEMORIES AND PERSONALITY THANKS #ANYWAY I NEED TO EXERCISE AND EAT FOOD AND STAY AWAY FROM THE VICES AND ENGAGE IN ANYTHING BUT THE DEGENARATE TIME-LEECH THAT IS COMPLACENCY #MOTHERFUCKER #NOT EVERYTHING IS A GODDAMN PATTERN OR SIGN AND YOU NEED TO ABANDON THIS PRETENTIOUS HUBRIS THAT THE ALL IS SOMETHING YOU CAN PUT LABELS ON #DIVINATION IS REAL THOUGH #AGAIN THIS FINE LINE #MAYBE I NEED A NEW HOBBY #NOT EVERYTHING IS A FUCKING SYNCHRONICITY. SOMETIMES EVENTS JUST HAPPEN. I MUST BECOME AWARE THAT I HAVE BEEN DESPARATLEY SEEKING SIGNS THAT #I AM CAPABLE OF CLIMBING OUT OF THE GODDAM PIT IVE BEEN IN FOR UNIRONICALLY MOST OF MY LIFE #AND SHIT IS REACHING A TIPPING POINT AND I ALSO JUST HAVE A GLITCHED IMAGE GENERATING SYSTEM AND THE HORRORS ARE ONLY BEING INTERPRETED #AS THE BEGINNING OF SCHIZOPHRENIA BC IM AFRAID OF IT. AND IM SEARCHING FOR AND SEEING PATTERNS IN EVERYTHING BECAUSE I WANT TO ANALYSE EVERY #SINGLE ATOM OF MYSELF AND MY SURROUNDINGS TO SEE IF I CAN FIGURE OUT JUST WHAT IT IS THAT I'M EXPERIENCING #ALSO ANTIPSYCOTIC MEDS NOW LIKE RN JUST IN CASE #THE RINGING IN YOUR EARS ISNT ANYTHING ITS JUST RINGING #NOT EVERYTHING IS A PATTERN AND EVENTS CAN JUST HAPPEN #AAAAHHH

[draconic-desire]

Oculus Infinitum

Yandere Satoru Gojo x Reader

He’s infinity; in comparison, you’re nothing. So of course using your cursed technique on him backfires.

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI! Yandere behavior, unhealthy relationship, implied kidnapping, forced imprisonment, nsfw, non-con/dub-con, afab!reader, slight mindbreak

Infinity is often interpreted as the largest numerical magnitude to exist. And while that fact may be true in theory, infinity is better defined as the endless division of infinitesimally smaller and smaller values. One can be separated into half, half to a quarter, and so on, until the space between fractions almost ceases to exist.

Almost.

Gojo is a lot like infinity. Blame it on his technique, sure, but you suspect it runs much deeper than that. His actions never reach an end; instead, each one sinks further and further into your skin, fangs so small you barely feel them until it’s too late and the venom irreversibly invades your veins. He’s chipped away at you, piece by little piece, until you are the opposite of infinity; you are nothing.

On a surface level, most would say you have it pretty good. You (are trapped in) live in a huge home, filled with opulent furniture and all the luxuries you could ever want. You’re (expected to) allowed to cook meals for the two of you, including your favorite dishes. You still have (basic rights) privileges, such as free roam of the house, your own selection of clothes, access to the television and your phone (minus the ability to call or text, of course), even outdoor time with Satoru’s supervision. Why would you ever need to leave?

You had escaped, once.

Calling it an escape would be generous. Nothing ever happens without Gojo’s knowledge, without Gojo’s permission. How foolish you had been, to think you could evade his Six Eyes. Despite weeks of planning, he’d dragged you back home within the hour.

The chains hadn’t been removed for an entire month after that, and their lingering presence on each post of Satoru’s bed serves as a constant reminder that they’ll never rust.

Currently, you’re in the (not your, nothing is ever truly yours anymore) house’s lofty kitchen now, preparing dinner for his return home from work. Glancing up at the clock, you see it’s nearly time for him to arrive. You click the stovetop on and place a pot of water over the open flame, watching the blue fire flicker. Your thoughts immediately go to Gojo’s eyes, twin infernos of endless blue. Those eyes never seem to close, never seem to be too far from your own. They have the ability to lock you in place and throw away the key forever.

Moments later, the sound of the door opening and closing, along with the click of multiple locks, echoes from the hallway. Long, casual footsteps alert you to his presence behind you. His velvet voice, so languid and carefree, fans your ear as he settles his hands on your hips. “There’s my girl. Already making dinner for me?” He places a surprisingly chaste kiss to the top of your head. “Missed ya, baby.”

You add rice and a bit of salt and stir the pot in front of you in silence. When did you stop fighting him on that? On losing your full name to simple titles like girl and baby? The old you would have gagged at those pet names. The old you that kicked and bit the hand of your captor like a rabid animal, always fighting for freedom.

His grip tightens when you fail to immediately respond, though you hear him force a light tone to his voice. “What, curse got your tongue?”

Tension immediately floods your muscles. Gojo is a vain man; your silence maims his huge ego, something the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer will not stand for. You must react. “No, Gojo. I was just lost in thought, is all.”

You worry your lip when the quiet drags on. “I-I’m sorry?”

Gojo barks out a laugh, but his smile is strained and all fangs. “Back to Gojo again, huh?”

A mistake you notice too late. The spoon falls from your grip as you turn your head slowly. He’s still wearing his blindfold, but you know those infinite abyssal eyes are currently boring into your soul, daring you to speak. “Ah, no! Satoru, I mean—”

“Shh, baby. I get it.” His hands move to your shoulders, which he begins to massage. “Is it because you’re mad at me for neglecting you?”

To an outsider it may sound like he’s teasing, but you know all too well the creep of annoyance laced into his deepened, husky tone. “Or are you just being a brat?”

Swallowing, you place a hand on his toned forearm in an attempt to calm him. You feel him practically melt into the touch. “Truly, ‘Toru, I’m fine.” Your honeyed tone makes you sick, but you’ve learned it can subtly manipulate your captor in the right setting, usually this domestic fantasy world of his. “You’ve been so busy with work, and my mind has just been wandering. Why don’t you go sit while I finish up with the food?”

He hums absentmindedly, fingers swirling patterns across your abdomen. “I have a better idea…” Hot breath caresses your ear, eliciting a shiver. “Let me make it up to you.”

A deft hand snakes its way down the back of your bare thigh, barely ghosting across your skin. You can feel him, solid as a rock, yet you know there will always be space between you. He can touch you, but you’re powerless to do the same.

Just like in everything else, you can’t hold a candle to him. Your cursed energy is inconsequential, a tiny spark against his infinitive well of power.

Talk of your innate cursed ability is a topic you actively choose to avoid. Your technique, when activated, allows you to briefly control the thoughts and consequent actions of a single individual—but only after you’ve kissed them. And it often backfires tremendously, with the kiss causing overwhelming feelings of obsession or insanity in the receiver. From more than enough uses you’ve learned to see it as more of a curse in and of itself, and one you prefer to keep hidden.

Especially from the man behind you. Gojo—Satoru, you correct yourself—has enough twisted love that you wouldn’t dare try to possess his thoughts. The mere idea makes your throat tighten with panic.

Satoru’s technique, on the other hand, causes every nerve ending along your skin to explode as his hand falls beneath your skirt and skate across your barely clothed core.

“Been thinking about this all day,” he groans. “Are you wet for me, baby?” Before you can respond, Satoru easily moves your panties aside and spears you with his middle and ring fingers.

The invasion makes you jolt instantly. An involuntary gasp leaves you as he presses deeper, his fingers sheathed to the knuckle. You hate how your walls immediately tighten around him, slick with your arousal. No, you don’t want this, but Gojo gives you no choice in the matter but to practically ride his hand as he lifts your skirt with his other hand to get a better view.

“I’ll never get tired of this.” His thumb passes over your clit, pulling yet another shameful moan from your lips. Your tense demeanor only causes your pussy to accidentally squeeze him tighter, spurring him on. You try to pull your thighs together, but Satoru wrenches them apart easily with his other hand. “Oh, no, none of that. This pussy is mine.”

You squirm, grasping for something to get you out of this mess. “Satoru, stop, the food will burn—”

“Forget it,” he commands, ripping your skirt off. “We’ll order takeout after.”

Your heart drops. “After…?”

“Aw, you thought I’d stop here?” His condescension floods your ears. “No, babe, I’m only just getting started with you.”

His persistence, like infinity, has no end.

Without warning, Satoru removes his fingers from your core and swings you over his shoulder, smacking your bare ass and wrenching a yelp from you. You blanch when you realize he’s carrying you to the bedroom.

“Wait, Satoru—!”

You are unceremoniously thrown onto the bed, said white-haired sorcerer towering above you. He pounces immediately, locking your limbs in place. Satoru must see the fear, the readiness to engage in fight or flight, across your face, because he brushes a tender hand across your cheek to wipe away a tear you didn’t realize had fallen.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” he teases, but it somehow sounds like a threat. His fingers, still coated with your arousal, hook around your thong and slide it down your legs. “You’re acting like this is our first time or somethin'.”

Oh, it was far from the first time that he had touched you or been inside of you. But something about today, about this time, sends fear skittering across your whole being. Perhaps it’s all the reminiscence lately, or the fact that your thoughts drifted to your innate technique for the first time in weeks. Panic sinks its claws into you.

Breath ragged, heart pounding, you grab his face in both hands and react without thinking; for the first time since he kidnapped you, you willingly kiss Satoru Gojo and activate your technique.

Satoru immediately reacts, deepening the kiss and pressing you more firmly into the mattress until you feel as if you’re nearly suffocating.

Release me, you project into his mind, threading a hand through his white locks and squeezing hard.

The world suddenly goes very, very still.

Satoru freezes. Slowly, painfully, he parts his lips from your own and straightens his arms against the mattress to hover above you once more. His breath comes out in jagged huffs. The only sound that remains is the unending tick, tick, tick of the clock on the wall, bringing you closer to your doom.

For a second, you almost believe your technique worked.

That is, until he quickly sheds his blindfold, and you are meet with those stunning, terrifying, brilliant, paralyzing blues. He whispers your name with a foreign stillness that chills your bones to ice. “Do you…have a cursed technique?”

What an idiot you are to have thought you could sneak past Satoru Gojo’s barriers and Six Eyes. You can’t touch his physical form; why would his mind be any different?

It takes all of your willpower to withhold the panicked, hysterical laugh threatening to escape you. “Look, I can explain—”

Satoru leans back on his knees, one hand carding through his hair as he looks up to the ceiling. “God, babe, I knew you could see curses and harbored cursed energy, but here you go surprising me!” He laughs, a gleeful chuckle that has you reeling.

“You’re not…mad?” you dare to ask, inching your knees towards your chest. Maybe your technique failed, but you can still buy some time and get into a safer position.

Satoru gazes down at you, head tilted and a full grin on his lips. “Mad? Baby, why would I be upset when for the first time in our relationship, you were the one seducing me?”

Oh, no. No no no no no.

Grabbing your ankle, he drags you back to a supine position, your pussy on full display for him. He licks his lips at the sight. “Plus, you trying to get inside my head was cute and all. Weak, but you gave it your best!” He laughs again, and you realize that he never took you seriously, not even for a second.

The thought should enrage you—it would have infuriated the old you—but all you can manage now is a low whine as his hands go for his belt.

Satoru pulls himself free, his already hard cock pulsing in anticipation. Precum beads at the tip as he lines himself up with your entrance. “What was it you asked me for? Release, right?”

Your eyes bulge at his implication. “Wait, Satoru, I didn’t mean—!”

You barely have time to react as he buries himself in you completely. A choked sob bubbles up your throat as you breath through the stretch of him.

Satoru moans in ecstasy as he begins a steady pace, thrusting mercilessly into that squishy spot deep inside your core that has you seeing stars.

“Kiss me again.” It’s light and breathless, but it’s an order, not a request. Fear makes you comply immediately, though your kiss is a hesitant, timid thing compared to your earlier attempt to sway him.

He’s having none of that. No, Satoru had a taste of your affection, and now he’ll tolerate nothing less than your full reciprocation. If only you could truly peer into his mind and see that no amount of your cursed energy would change him; your being was already permanently imprinted on his brain. You were his perfect doll, held in the palm of his hand.

Nails rake down his back as you arch against the mattress. Every time he thrusts, he grinds against your clit, and you feel yourself chasing your finish. You hate this, you want it to stop, but you can’t help—

“Please, Satoru,” you plead without thinking, meeting his limitless eyes. You feel yourself drowning in them, a blue sky that never ceases.

For a split second, his rhythm hesitates. “…Say that again,” he whispers, almost reverently. “Beg for me.”

You’re not quite sure what you’re asking for. “P-please, I can’t take it anymore, please let me—!”

“Choose your next word carefully,” he warns, voice shifting to a low growl as his hand moves to your throat, adding ever so much pressure.

Tears streak your vision. The embarrassment of your technique failing and the lewd position he has you in all crash down upon you, and another piece of you breaks. “Please let me cum,” you concede.

To your dismay, his pace slows, and you cry out in protest as your orgasm fades. “I just need you to do one more thing for me, baby.” He leans into your neck, nipping and sucking at all your sensitive spots, torturing you even further. “Tell me you love me.”

Alarms should be blazing through your head, but the fog of your arousal clouds your judgement as you seek your climax.

That piece of your soul he took shatters into a million shards as you whisper, “I love you, Satoru.”

The two of you shatter simultaneously. You register all too late the warmth invading your core as Satoru pumps his cum deep inside you.

He’s never come in you before.

Your name is murmured over and over like a prayer against your neck—or maybe it’s a curse. You jolt in overstimulation when he pulls out and bends down to place a kiss against your puffy folds. “So good for me, baby. This perfect pussy belongs to me.”

He kisses you a final time, long and slow. When he pulls away, a languid smile sweeps across his features. “You’re all mine, (Y/n). Even your mind.”

With the use of your innate technique, you’ve dug your own grave for good. Satoru will never let you go now.

After all, infinity is indivisible.

#yandere satoru gojo #gojo x reader #yandere gojo #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jjk #tw noncon touching #tw noncon #tw dubcon #dd writes #gojo x you #yanderecore #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #satoru gojo smut #gojo headcanons

[nutmeggery]

I need Neil Gaiman to know that Good Omens 2 made me feel emotions I haven't felt in nearly a decade.

When I heard there was going to be a Good Omens 2 I was looking forward to it, of course. I just wasn't expecting it do anything super special to my emotions. I was sure I'd enjoy it, though. I really enjoyed s1.

But, for the last few years, I watched shows and afterwards basically thought well, that was fun, and I quickly moved on and didn't think much about them. There was only about 3 shows in the last 5 years that had made me feel truly emotional and stayed on my mind to the point where I felt like I needed to engage in fandom for a while. (Good Omens 1 was one of them.)

I wasn't spoiled by the leak. I never even knew there was a leak. So I had no idea what was coming in s2. And oh boy...

See, I'd watched Our Flag Means Death, a show where you don't expect the lead characters to kiss, because, well, that never happens in these types of shows, right? And this is important because when they did kiss, it felt like a door that had been locked with just about all the high security locks in the world had suddenly, inexplicably, been opened. Something switched inside me. It took me months to understand what it was, but when I thought about Good Omens before s2 came out, I realized what it was.

I would never truly enjoy a bromance they're-only-queer/in love-by-your-own-interpreation story ever again. Stories where nothing is confirmed, just subtext that anyone who doesn't want to see it can easily deny and mock those who wish it was more.

While it was clear that Crowley and Aziraphale cared a lot about each other in s1, and were probably in love, it was still just a fun ship for fans to play with in fanfiction and fanart. Do they love each other? Oh sure. In what way? Well, that's up to interpretation. Ok, cool. But it's not quite Our Flag Means Death, is it?

Then I watched Good Omens 2. And from episode 1 I saw my favourite Angel and Demon duo love each other. And I was having the best time. I hadn't had such a good time watching a show in a long while. It was not only right up my alley, it was an alley I wasn't even aware was my alley until I saw it. I enjoyed seeing the old characters, the new characters. Oh, I was wonderful.

It was clear to me that, of course Crowley and Aziraphale love each other, are IN love with each other, showing it in their own way. And I wasn't expecting it to be THIS obvious.

And then when the kiss happened, I couldn't believe it. I covered my mouth with both hands and gasped and sat up straight in my seat. I had never expected it--the heartbreak it added to the already heartbreaking scene--it rewired something inside me.

It was like my emotions had been locked up in a stall like a horse for so, so long, and now the gate had been opened, the stable door kicked down, and the horse was running out onto the large pasture into the daylight, bucking and kicking up grass. Oh my god, I have to take a few minutes to process that entire 6 hour marathon of emotions.

And by a few minutes I meant a few days.

More than a few, actually.

I didn't need a kiss to understand how much they loved each other, but I did need the kiss to understand how intense and heartbreaking their separation is for them after everything.

But more than that, the kiss broke a barrier. They really did it, I thought. They really dared.

Aziraphale and Crowley aren't human males, no, but they're played by male actors. And that is significant. That makes the kiss significant. In the world we currently live in.

Weeks later, I'm still obsessed with the show, re-watching s1 and 2, reading the book again, listening to the audio drama. And I'm on tumblr, seeing people's posts and art to somehow sate my hunger for a s3 that doesn't exist (yet).

And I'm having a wonderful time.

#good omens #good omens 2 spoilers #go2 #neil gaiman #im queer and emotional #NEIL LIKED IT?! #asdsdksfksnvkjdnvdkjvd

[masuchu]

“𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒” [GENSHIN MEN]

what happens when you gift your boyfriend a rather … provocative photo? ‧₊˚

genre. smut, sending nudes but in teyvat so it’s a polaroid, dragon mentions in neuvillette’s, manhandling, praise, mentions of creampies (wriothesley), degradation in his also, bondage in ayato’s, reader is accused (teasingly) of cheating (kinda) in ayato’s

characters. neuvillette, wriothesley, ayato, al haitham, kaveh

love, masu. guys i need these men so badly . you do not understand i am in disarray . tried so hard to colour my text, this app hates me . also the ‘picture’ is a polaroid cause i hate modern au’s </3

那维莱特 ✦ 𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄: A subtly erotic photo; your naked body laying in the bath. The water bubbly and crystalline, showing clearly the outline of your waist and the tone of your body. The soapy water hugged your tits so perfectly, hiding your nipples from view but allowing parts of the plump flesh to be seen.

You had only thought that the picture was pretty, but your lover proved that all things can have varied interpretations.

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: Well, you certainly know how to rile up the Hydro Dragon, don’t you? As soon as his eyes gazed upon your nude body laying so elegantly in the bathtub, his firm resolve cracked. Only minutely, but it cracked nonetheless. The image was tossed aside somewhere on his desk—he didn’t care where—and soft yet demanding hands fell onto your body.

“You temptress,” Neuvillette muttered, eyes travelling over every inch of your body, “what were you hoping for when you took such an image, hm?”

A giggle left your lips, and you lifted a hand up to his jaw. “I think you know, my dearest Iudex.”

A grunt echoed from him, hands gripping tighter around their current places on your form. At once, you were pulled into his firm chest, and you noticed immediately that it seemed larger than usual. A glance upwards told you that it was not just your imagination.

“Surely, you are smart enough to know not to prod a dragon? If you are not, I would be happy to show you the consequences.”

莱欧斯利 ✦ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄: Countless strewn sheets of paperwork behind you, your half naked body laying on top. A black set of lingerie hugged you perfectly underneath your regular day shirt, which had clearly been unbuttoned with fervency. Your lipstick has a feature at the top of the polaroid, smeared and messy. An entirely rushed photo, but one that was guaranteed to push your hunky boyfriends buttons.

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: “Wow. When you came for our regular tea break today, I was not expecting to receive such a sexy gift.”

You sipped your tea tauntingly, and hummed in response. You knew he would love it.

“I bet you had fun wrecking my desk, huh? Thought one of the Melusines had done it. Nope, just my slut of a girlfriend.”

The name made you tremble. The teacup in your hand began to shake as a result of your newfound lack of resolve, so you placed it down as gently as you were able onto the tray.

“W—who do you think you are speaking to?! You have no right to c—call me that—!”

His lips abruptly smashed onto yours, leaving you with no time to finish your scolding, nor catch your breath. Hands gripped you firmly and picked you up with ease; the kiss did not break once as he strolled over to his desk.

Only when your bottom was placed onto the wood, did he let up. He grinned at your heaving and desperate attempts to gain more oxygen. His resolve infuriated you, how was he not dying right now?!

“Mm, I’m thinking I should fuck you on here now. Try and make another mess. That way I can watch when you clean it all up, bent over with my cum leaking out of you. Looks real pretty in my head…”

Another burst of brattiness stormed through your veins like a tornado, pressing you to fight back against his crude tongue. Your mouth opened in attempt to retaliate, but he only pressed a finger against your lips and teased:

“Ah-ah. No more of that feistiness! You’re much cuter when your a good girl. I can tell you want me, so you’re going to beg for me. I won’t give in until it’s up to my standards, which are high. Feel free to begin, missy~”

神里绫人 ✦ 𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐎

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄: Baby blue ribbons adorned your silky skin. Skin poured out from over the top of the fabric, pulled taut and carefully tied. The pattern was nothing too extravagant, your thighs tied to one another, your wrists tied in a bow, and a final ribbon around your waist. The photo cut off just before your cute, little pussy—a purposeful tease on your part, a tease that invoked a different reaction than what you had imagined.

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: “My, my. What is this, my dear.”

You stood extremely awkwardly in front of your lovers work desk, hands clasped in one another behind your back. The plan seemed so perfect in your head, but now that it was in action— well, the embarrassment was certainly creeping its way up your body.

“D—do you you like it, love?”

A deep, ravenous chuckle reverberated from his throat. His eyes were lidded, hungry, and they took a horribly arousing journey over your body. Top to bottom, no place missed.

“Like it? Mm, I love it. Though, I am wondering how you managed to get yourself into such a pretty pose? Did you get Thoma to help you with the ribbon, hm?”

The accusation was false, but the shock of it caused an eruption of red to fill your face, hands waving up and down in denial.

“W—what? Why would I—?! I assure you he did not!”

Ayato’s sultry gaze morphed into that of hurt and betrayal; unnecessary guilt struck you in your chest.

“You look perfectly guilty to me, my dear. Before you plead innocence, I am willing to make you a deal. If you allow me to tie you up once more and have my way with you, I will forget about your betrayal. Sounds fair, hm?”

You gulped; it was hopeless. “Of course, Sir.”

艾尔海森 ✦ 𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄: A perfectly choreographed photo; from a fleeting glance, it would appear to be a regular picture with an open book draped over your form. However, you knew Al Haitham was much more attentive than that. Your dripping pussy made a imperceptible appearance at the bottom of the polaroid, only just being cut off by the frame. The book was tilted deliberately so that a large amount of one breast was showing, the other remaining hidden by the leather-bound cover. It was a good effort to shock him, though, perhaps shock isn’t the correct word to use.

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: Al Haitham’s eyes squinted—so imperceptibly that the average person would never notice, but you did. You always did. A few seconds passed with his eyes analysing the picture, before firmly placing it facing down on his desk.

“What is this?” he asked sternly. His countenance seemed to remain composed if you blurred your sight, but slight twitches of his skin and furrowing of his brows gave him away. He was irked and aroused, a dangerous combination.

“It’s a gift! You don’t like it?” The faux innocence radiated off of you with ease; it was your favourite thing to do. Riling up your boyfriend might as well be your job title at this point.

“Hm. No, I don’t like it,” he rolled his eyes at the pout that materialised on your lips, “in fact, I hate it. It is extremely distracting. Attempting to whisk me away from my important work is an offence to the Akademiya, you know?”

Al Haitham’s eyes did one slow, suggestive rake over your body, and the air suddenly felt a lot thicker when they met your own pair of wide eyes.

“I did not mean to distract you….”

“Well, you have. Are you going to finish what you started, or would you prefer a week without cumming? The choice is yours, sweet girl.”

卡维 ✦ 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄: Arguably the least extravagant out of all these images; it is simply just a photo of you laying gracefully on your shared bed, sheet wrangled and ruffled. You are not nude—no, you wear one of Kaveh’s silky button up shirts. It is far too large, and rides up much too high. Your cunt is on show for the Kamera, and your nipples are hard behind the fabric.

It was taken with no malicious intent, but even you can see how it took a promiscuous turn when you gifted it to your lover.

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: Kaveh let out a shaky breath, eyes wide and flickering between both you and the photo in his hands.

“Fuck, baby. You are so gorgeous…”

You coyly shuffled from one foot to the other, a subtle heat traversing to your cheek. The arousal of the situation was really hitting you, and clearly, your boyfriend too.

“I took it just after you left this morning… I didn’t mean for it— it wasn’t meant to be so.. lewd, I swear!”

Kaveh took a deep breath of fresh air—a substance which appeared to suddenly be extremely scarce— and pulled you by your hips against him.

“I don’t care, I’m actually grateful. Archons, I’m gonna take this with me on long trips now, you know? I’ll be cumming for you all across Teyvat.”

A tiny yelp left your lips as your needy lover began to nibble your neck, hands lingering around your ass, much too close to your soaking hole.

“K—Kaveh…!”

It had only been a minute or less, but he had already turned you into a panting mess. He removed his head from the crevice of your neck for a moment, and admired the work of purple art he had created along your skin. For no apparent reason, he grinned. He met your eyes with a clear radiation of mischief, before asking shamelessly:

“Wanna recreate the photo? Though, my cum should make an appearance this time. Want the one you gave me, and a dirtier one. What do you say, hm?”

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ sincerely me ‹𝟹 #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #neuvillette genshin #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #wriothesley genshin impact #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #ayato genshin impact #ayato x reader #ayato kamisato #kamisato ayato #ayato smut #al haitham genshin #al haitham x reader #al haitham smut #kaveh x reader #kaveh genshin #kaveh smut

[writingwithcolor]

Author with cultural disconnect: How do I write without making it seem as if I hate my own heritage?

Anonymous asked:

I’m a white-passing Asian author, and I’ve never felt all that connected with my heritage. My current story centers on a fairy (re: fantasy-world POC) child and ends with her realizing that her parents are toxic af and her human best friend’s family takes her in. This is the perfect opportunity to sort through my own issues with my heritage and finally convince my monkey-brain that it’s okay to not know how to cook Vietnamese food or celebrate tet or speak Vietnamese… But I also realize that if I’m not careful, this could easily slip into “Hey, I hate my heritage and so should you!” So how can I stop that from happening?

Writing for yourself first, not an audience

I ask you a simple question: why put pressure on yourself to have any sort of non-offensive messaging for a story that hasn’t been drafted yet and is to convince your monkey brain it’s okay to exist as yourself?

That seems like the fastest way to stop the story from being actually cathartic and instead a performance art piece when you already feel hung up on performing as “properly” part of your culture.

As I said in Working Through Identity Issues and Other Pitfalls of Representation, not all stories you write need to be for public consumption. Especially stories you’re using for your own self-processing and therapy, because you’re trying to get a cathartic moment that is rewriting your own story.

At what point does the public need to be involved in that?

I do understand the compulsion to want to post—I have definitely posted some Questionable™ material in my drive to get validation for feeling the way I do, wanting people to witness me and say “same.” It’s a powerful urge. Sometimes it’s worked, but most of the time it’s just made me feel horrifically exposed.

But you really do not have to post in public to get any sort of validation. Set up a groupchat with friends if you want the cheerleading and witnessing—people who will know your story and give you good-faith interpretations and won’t accuse you of anything. Honestly I’d suggest setting up this groupchat anyway; as someone who just got one again after quite a few years without it, my productivity has skyrocketed from being around supportive people.

Let the monkey brain have its monkey brain moment and shut off the concept the story is for the public. Shut off the concept of performing for an unknown audience. It’s for you. Be authentic, no matter how bad it would look to outsiders. They’re not reading it. Part of getting catharsis, sometimes, is being the worst version of yourself, somewhere nobody else can see it.

Deciding to publish the work

If, after you do write it, you find that you actually do want to polish it up and put it somewhere… edit it. Rewrite it entirely if that’s what it takes. Take the story through the same drafting process every story needs to go through, ripping out the unfortunate implications as you go.

Editing can be its own form of healing, as you try to figure out what this character would need to not be hateful. As you realize, once this longform journal entry is out of your head, what was bothering you now that you can see it pinned down on a page. But you absolutely do not need to write with the intention of editing in that healing. When I’ve tried, it’s fallen flat.

The healing will come from being yourself, no public involved, and writing about your feelings in their rawest form. Anything else is extra.

There’s no point in trying to put guard rails on the drafting process, not for a deeply personal piece. And by the time that drafting process is done, you’ll likely have specific scenarios and contexts that you can ask about, and you might even have ideas on how to fix it yourself once the story has a shape to it.

This is 100% a situation where there’s no real sense in idea workshopping something in the plotting stage. You’re doing something for you. Decide if it’s for public consumption later (while acknowledging “no” is a perfectly valid answer), and only figure out how to make the story not overtly harmful if you decide to put it out into the public.

~ Leigh

#culture #cultural disconnect #creator responsibility #writing #authors of color #asks

[magicalmanhattanproject]

so. here's the thing about all the "information" we've been hearing about the qsmp restructing so far.

it's not. like. it's not really actually information. at least, it's nothing new. it's like. vague gestures in the direction of things that might be information.

antoine saying "i haven't heard any news" could mean that quackity has completely isolated himself from talking to anyone and isn't doing anything or it could mean that quackity has decided not to tell sensitive information to a guy who always says exactly what he's thinking immediately in public

bagi saying empanada is getting her life back could mean that the eggs are all in place with new contracts to come back actually paid or it could mean that another admin has gone rogue and is just making quick changes to appease the upset streamer

the fact of the matter is we don't have enough information to come to any conclusions. every new thing a person says referencing the restructuring is just another thing that does not make things clearer.

josé is definitely the guy who has the most potential to be interesting, but i have no idea why he's getting involved trying ot act as an intermediary between the workers and quackity after a union has already gotten involved and they're like. professionals at doing that. he keeps saying things that imply he might turn out to have information, but so far, he hasn't said anything that's actually information. he says he has a document, but he hasn't shown it to us yet

everything we know can be interpreted in a thousand different ways. maybe we haven't heard anything because the project is completely collapsing from the inside. maybe we haven't heard anything because anyone who could tell us anything is too busy doing the actual work of restructuring and renegotiating

here's my advice for everyone to keep from being driven to madness: stay your current course and wait for the restructuring to be finished

if you're staying away from qsmp because you lost trust in quackity, nothing has happened that should make you regain that trust

if you're sticking with qsmp because you still think it can be salvaged, nothing has happened that should make you lose faith

once the restructuring is finished and we can look at it and say "okay, this is definitely how they intend to handle things going forward" then we can judge if that way is good enough or not. but we're not there yet. just wait and see.

#sorrelposting #qsmp #qsmp admin situation

[ao3commentoftheday]

As a volunteer, do you have anything to say about what the OTW did to bjorn?

To begin with, I’m going to speak in generalities instead of specifics. This is for a couple of reasons. 1) I’ve been on hiatus from the OTW since August because my life got extremely complicated and volunteering wasn’t something I could continue doing right now. 2) As a result of my hiatus, I was not present for any of the events that transpired. This is simply my own opinion based on the available information, so you can feel free to disagree.

Now, as to your phrasing. You say “what the OTW did to bjorn” and I ask, “What did the OTW do to them?” From the meager information I’ve seen, all of which has been provided by bjorn themselves, they left the OTW of their own accord because they were unhappy with being talked to about their behaviour. This behaviour occurred in the OTW’s chat space which, for those of you who don’t know, is the OTW’s workspace. As a fully online organization, that platform is the equivalent of their office. 

bjorn was in that shared workspace, and they set their name to include the phrase “Palestine will be free.” Later, they changed it to “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.” They were told that the first phrase made some people uncomfortable but that they were allowed to continue using it. They were told the second was unacceptable and that they should stop using it. bjorn chose to continue using the second phrasing.

Why is the second phrase seen as unacceptable? A quick google took me to the Anti Defamation League’s explanation of its antisemitism. That same google also provided me with Al Jazeera’s explanation of its complicated history. As a person who is neither Israeli nor Palestinian and as someone who hasn’t spent years studying the history of the region or the complexities of the conflict there, I’m comfortable with the idea that it’s a nuanced issue that different people will see in different ways, and I have personally decided that I should probably avoid using an expression whose interpretation varies so wildly.

Here, I will digress to remind everyone that the OTW is an international volunteer organization. That means there are volunteers there from all over the world - including Israel and Palestine. As far as I’m aware, bjorn is not from that region of the world.

So we have someone using a controversial phrase in a workplace setting where there are people who are immediately affected by the current conflict. My assumption is that they were not doing this to be intentionally aggressive. While I do recognize their name, there are nearly 1000 volunteers at the OTW so I’m afraid I don’t remember this one individual. I’m willing to give them the benefit of the doubt here, however, and assume that they were not calling for the eradication of all Jews.

I can also, however, understand why anyone who has seen this same phrase used as a justification for terrorist attacks would have difficulty doing the same. 

From what I saw in the original post, bjorn was given a warning about their behaviour and then a more formal letter when it continued. CCAP (Constructive Corrective Action Procedure) has a pretty dystopian sound to it, but it’s basically just a conversation between a manager (Chair) and an employee (volunteer) when the employee has kinda messed up a little bit and the manager wants to get them back on track. If the CCAP goes well, then the volunteer is back in good standing and the situation can be put behind them. It’s only if the volunteer and their Chair are unable to get things back on track that the volunteer will be asked to leave the Org. As far as I know, that’s only happened a handful of times (but I’m no expert, and I’m still on hiatus so I can’t go and try to look things up)

bjorn apparently chose option #3, which is to leave the OTW rather than go through that process. That’s a perfectly fine decision to make, and I’m sure they’re not the first volunteer to do so. It was their choice, though. The OTW didn’t kick them out. The OTW didn’t force them out. The OTW told them “this is inappropriate behaviour in an international workplace setting,” and bjorn decided to leave rather than change that behaviour.

I have nothing against bjorn, and I hope their post-OTW life is a good one. However, I've seen posts that have been using bjorn's situation as a way to claim the OTW is a “Zionist organization.” I would like to remind everyone that the OTW is an organization dedicated to the preservation of fanworks. What role do people expect the OTW to take in an international negotiation between Israel and Palestine? How many international policy volunteers do people think they have, and which committee do people think they belong to? Technical Support? Communications?

I’m trending towards sarcasm here but it’s only because I can’t quite believe that there really are people who seem to believe that the OTW - again a fanwork preservation organization - is attempting to do anything at all with regards to an international conflict. 

If anyone out there hates the OTW, I encourage them to avoid OTW’s various projects and to decline the biannual opportunities to donate, but please don't generate or share conspiracy theories. There are more than enough of them going around already.

#long post

[unintelligible-screaming]

so i’m re-reading homestuck. currently i’m near the beginning of act 5. assorted thoughts:

1. rose is so fucking funny. fanfic writers never remember this

2. speaking of rose — her classpect means that in fanart and fanfic, her mysterious seer-iness is highly emphasized. but in acts 1 through 4, the mysterious one is jade. DREAM VISIONS! ENIGMATIC HINTS AT PROPHECY! TIME LOOP BULLSHIT! jade is THE mysterious seer-adjacent character. meanwhile, rose acts like she knows what’s going on but she basically never does. as a result, fanfic especially gives the mysterious-seer attributes to rose and jade is just sort of… there. (i am kinda guilty of this myself.) my new 2024 slogan: let jade be enigmatic as fuck!

3. the first time vriska ever appears — unless you count her username appearing without being directly referenced, which happens pretty early — is at the very very edge of a panel, in which you can see one of her horns. that happens a few times pre-act-five, especially in panels that involve terezi. honestly most terezi conversations pre-act-five get funnier if you imagine vriska looking over her shoulder like ::::/ or like ::::D

4. the fandom image of karkat is highly positive. the idea of his character is kinda locked to karkat as he appears in act 6 (maybe late act 5?), and fan depictions of early karkat (pre-sgrub, or simply early act 5) seem to retrospectively plaster his later characterization onto his earlier self. his general assholery is interpreted as blunted grumpiness that no one really takes seriously. that interpretation more or less makes sense for later versions of his character, but it’s startling how genuinely mean he is in early act 5! he’s such a jerk that in a conversation with early act 5 vriska he comes off looking worse! that’s HARD. and a really interesting facet of his character!

#more to be added later. probably #i recently started grad school — i’m getting a phd in english which i’m not sure will surprise anyone who follows this blog #so i’m busy #but since when has that ever stopped me from making bad decisions about how to allocate my time! #homestuck

[verinarin]

I need to repost this since the tags didn’t work T-T, but omg thankuu sm for asking and I love you (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵), anyways since you didn't specify on fluff/smut this would fully be fluff but I will make a full on smut on this specific trope lololol

spicy fluff | Someone flirted with you on his exhibition, he does not take your friendliness kindly

You're currently stuck in between a whiny Rafael and a wall, his breath warms your neck as he rests his arms beside your shoulders, leaning down to hold intense eye contact with you while caging your body like a prey, "Miss bodyguard, you're my bodyguard right ?" he voice softens but there's a distinct emphasis on the word 'my bodyguard’

“Yes Rafayel, I'm your bodyguard." you sigh as you try to make sense of how this happened in the first place, you were idly chitchatting with a person who was admiring Rafael's painting at the exhibition.

The guy made some silly jokes which made you laugh and then all of a sudden Rafael whisked you away to the closet filled with canvases and other works of his, "So if you're my bodyguard why didn't you stay beside me, what if some crazy stalker tackles me to the ground?!" he frowns, it took you quite the mental strength nor to laugh in front of his face

It is clear as day that it's not your work ethic that he's questioning, but rather the fact that you were idly talking with someone else, he's jealous

"Well I don't think someone is going to tackle you to the ground princess, I already did a thorough background check on all of your guests." you chuckle, his face turns into a pinkish hue as he mumbles a curse

But something didn't feel right, you could see a mischievous glint reflecting from his eyes. He leans in closer, way too close that you can feel his soft lips against your neck,

"Well that doesn't change the fact that you should've been by my side during the exhibition." he mumbles against your neck, you can feel his sentences forming a silent spell on your neck, like a siren his voice lingers in your ear, guiding you to meet his wants

You want to move away but before you can he gripped your wrist and pins it over your head while his other hand holds your waist tight, keeping you in place, "Miss bodyguard I think you need repay the for the lost time by indulging me, I don't pay cheap money for your service y'know ? he whispers beside your ear, you body shudders at the electrifying feeling

"Rafayel, are you jealous ?" you ask teasingly, he scoffs before dragging your body closer to his own, your chest presses against his before he replies, "What do you think?, it's open for interpretation,"

"I think that you're jealous and you're trying to mark my skin before letting me out so the guy from earlier would back down," you deduce as much, he seems to be pleased with your answer,

"Well I know you're a smart one Miss bodyguard, but the question I'd like to ask is would you let me be childish enough to mark your skin with my love just because I'm jealous" he asks as he kisses the side of your neck

"Yes you can, but promise me you won't do it too hard," you huff which he replies with a chuckle of his own "Can't promise you that, sorry." he smirks against your skin before latching his teeth on the poor skin

Well let's just say you have freshly tinted purple marks on y while standing beside him who's conversing with his guest, how embarrassing !

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel #rafayel x reader