#''well there's broad rules but everyone is different so you're on your own to find out what you can do good luck''

[thelastspeecher]

so the biggest thing in this whole fructose malabsorption thing I've been diagnosed with and trying to figure out is the fructose to glucose ratio in foods. apparently, when glucose is consumed at the same time as fructose, it increases fructose absorption. so total fructose content, while important, isn't as important as making sure more glucose is consumed than fructose.

which means.

that fucking BRUSSELS sprouts, the vegetable notorious for being bitter and gross, are on the list of things I have to be careful with, bc while they have negligible sugar, that sugar very slightly is more fructose than glucose.

[seven-meds]

Hi!

I love your art and I am extremely enamored by the beauty of your writing !

That being said, I am an artist as well and I feel like I have been stuck in a creative rut and I don’t know how to get to out ? Do you have an advice on breaking out of the hole and as well do you suggest drawing everyday as a method to keep up with skill?

Thank you so much <3

Thanks so much! I considered this for a while. Giving artistic advice, whether broad or targeted, is always difficult. It's too nebulous of a process for rules but everyone still has such a strong opinion on what the rules should be. 

In my experience, lulls are beneficial when seen from the correct perspective and then taken advantage of. Endless production is antithetical to all art that is not corporate in nature, and lack of inspiration means you will benefit from something often overlooked: new experiences and engagement with new things. Though if you do want to feel productive, take a sketchbook and a pen to a public area and draw what you see for an hour or two. You likely won't be inspired but you will feel accomplished.

Historically, artists took extended periods of time away from creating in order to experience life and take in the world, its people, and themselves. Not always willingly; some were torn away and sent to war, fled their homeland, or were imprisoned, enslaved, or institutionalized. And there are those who spent long periods of time bedridden by illness or injury. But whether their experiences were gained by choice, by force, or by nature, their time away from art is what ended up shaping what they made. Drawing in isolation will sharpen a skill, but it's through repeated use of that skill to translate your experiences that your art improves.

An artist's goal is communication first and foremost. This is why drawing daily on its own cannot make anyone a better artist. It will eventually lead toward some sort of technical prowess, but technical prowess with no voice is fairly pointless and very dull. Ideally, the development of voice will precede the development of technical skill and the two become honed in tandem. What you want to say should define what you need to learn. If you are developing an understanding of your own intentions then you are already a step ahead of the artist who is focusing solely on their ability to draw a head from every angle. 

It's beneficial to conceptualize art as a series of choices rather than a display of objective prowess. The more experiences you have and the more educated you are, the more sophisticated your choices become. You'll also find that you're able to analyze and appreciate (or criticize) the choices of other artists, increasing the enjoyment of engaging with art as a whole. You'll then be led toward more complex and unique work as you become bored with things that salivate over their own palatability. You may also find that art you've passed over before suddenly begins to speak to you.

Spend time exposing yourself to new art, ideally from large swathes of eras, places, and forms, including art that communicates things uncomfortable, disturbing, or offensive to you. Delve into the history of the artists and works you enjoy (or hate) in order to fully understand what's being said and why. If you currently find yourself interacting solely with contemporary art delivered largely via algorithm or advertisement that elicits feelings of familiarity and comfort, you should recognize that as a limitation. You are certainly free to work within it, but you will stumble into inspiration more quickly through exposure to different ideas.

It's also a good time to interact with others, if possible (even from a distance), and to look into topics completely divorced from art. Enrich yourself in many ways. The world is so vast and full of so much. What can you experience and learn that will make you yearn to communicate again? 

Try not to waste years studying aimlessly. Develop an interest, a concept, an idea, an experience, and then work toward communicating it effectively. You will learn as you develop new pieces (because you will put effort and energy into targeted research and study), and those pieces will become more complex in both substance and technique. 

Good luck!

[shizukateal]

Miraculous Ladybug Magical Girl Fashion Review -Part 1

Preamble

Ok, so. What do you people generally think of as a "superhero outfit"? Spandex, right? Tight-skinned, uninterrupted spandex covering almost all the body, or at least not straying away from the body line if you're a girl and only get a swimsuit. Maybe a cape (hood optional) depending on how dramatic you are to add some flow or, if you're a woman, your hairstyle will do that job. Otherwise you can have some form of helmet or headpiece to distinguish yourself, and that's it. That's the extent of options you have. If you're extremely lucky, they might allow you to wear a jacket.

While this description might be a bit of an exaggeration (not by much, though) I think we can all agree that this is a very restrictive set of rules to work with. It's very hard to make something that completely contours to the body visually compelling. It's hard to distribute colors and shapes and patterns in a neat way that makes you stand out when you have to compete with thousands of millions of characters with the same 3 allowed bodytypes (lean, broad, or Woman™️). Which is why we should clap even more at designs like the DC holy trinity and especially Spiderman, who not only has a fantastic design in spite of how alienating it should be, but whose look is also currently inspiring thousands of artists to make their own variations, technically also including today's very own Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

This is all a very lengthy way to say that some of the MLB people wear their fursuits better than the rest. Skin-tight onesies with fur patterns are not something everyone can pull off. Doubly so with how inconsistent the art direction in the show is, with everyone in the cast reaching different levels of uncanny valley and swagless drip. I personally think that many of them would do better if they thought a bit outside that box of "standard superhero fashion" and went for something more specific to the personalities of the characters, but there are some winners amongst the rabble. Much like the writing of the show itself, the show's design averages into a trashy sludge pile that still manages to look tempting thanks to some unexpected moments of competence. Let's sort through the pile *cracks knuckles*

Ladybug (standard and ultimate version)

You'd think it would be easy for me to just say "yeah, the bland, near fully uninterrupted polkadot bodypaint onesie is both boring and silly and the other more balanced version is a LOT better by comparison" and leave it at that, but unfortunately I also have to talk about the hairstyle. And the hairstyle is wrong in a very specific way which I don't have concise terms for, so I need you to pay attention and stay with me here.

The pigtails work well for Marinette. They are distinct, practical, realistic enough while bordering just slightly on the fantastic, and their mild childishness enhances Mari's romantic nature. In theory they also match the polka-dot theme and they are not impractical considering the function of Ladybug's suit, but they still go against what it's trying to do. There's probably a concrete term in shape and action line theory that better educated people than me know about, but to give you the gist of what I mean I'm gonna do another Shitty Paint Edit™️ so I don't go in too many circles explaining myself:

Ok, you get what I'm trying to say here now? The pigtails match the balance of this specific pose, but the suit is too skin-tight and it highlights Marinette's neck, so they interrupt the buildup. They don't even work well as pieces of flow for contrast, because the hair is so stiff and the ribbons are barely noticeable. Compare to itsanarkee's cosplay and how much better she looks because she has an updo. The worst part of it all is that, usually, matching a body-paint suit with a hairstyle to provide contrast in a female superhero is, like, babyshit, the bread and butter of superheroine costumes, but Astruc managed to find the one hairstyle in the world to make it work wrong because he was to proud about Marinette's design to change anything. Just give her the fucking buns already.

Chat Noir

He serves cunt. Pops pussy, if you will. The only very mild itch it gives me is that I can't see what his ears are attached to and it bothers me, although he's not the only one with that feature and I understand why they would want to hide a hair band especially in his design. I can forgive that when everything else in this design is genius. The belt tail. The way his mask sharpens his features alongside the hair and ears. The flaps on his boots and gloves that highlight how his movements put more weight in his joints. The acrylic claws, the paws on his boots. The lines that highlight his figure in just the right way. The fucking bell. Chat is easily the best design amongst the heroes.

And while this my purely subjective interpretation, I truly do think it's understated how much this outfit manages to sell Adrien's clark kenting. It makes complete and perfect sense to me at least that Marinette wouldn't recognize him like this. Adrien is just slightly generically pretty enough that you wouldn't assume they are the same person just because they're both blonde bishies, and the contrast between the two personas is high enough that it could be realistic that some people wouldn't put them together if they are not looking for that connection. Doubly so for Marinette, who is way too enamored with Adrien's personality of generic un-disruptive niceness with a touch of rich boy angst to fully reconcile it with Chat's outright spicier demeanor lightened with Pathetic Wet Beast Energy for potability.

Rena Rogue vs Volpina

Yeah, this one merits a comparison. It's a perfect example to elaborate on my first rule. Lila already stands out as another of the best human designs amongst the cast, and the sleaze she exudes lends itself a lot better to this slick body-paint tightness and form-highlighting curves. The tail-sash around her waist is also brilliant. She'd probably look even better in something more grounded, but the fact that she's already pulling the outfit off like this is still an accomplishment.

Rena Rogue on the other hand... well, everything around her head is very good and cute, and I especially appreciate the eyebrows on her mask. On paper I also like the top with its longtail, but overall Alya looks a lot blander than Volpina, because her outfit doesn't reflect her personality the way it does Lila's. It's not ugly, even if the patch of white starts to bother me because it has no interruptions as it goes down. In fact it succeeds in making Rena look kind of adorable, really, but Alya is not a cutesy girl, and tbh the overall general texture of the outfit is a lot more body spray-painting-ish than Volpina's, which also makes it look cheaper in a bad way.

The Fox miraculous may be summarized as the power of Illusion, but both girls represent two facets elaborating on that concept: where Lila is the Fox as Deceit, Alya is the Fox as Cleverness. So Lila may be... smart manipulative -Ok, sincerely speaking Lila Rossi is the single most blatant Villain Sue I have ever seen put onscreen, but what I'm trying to get at is that while she -supposedly- has some cunning, her pettiness and eagerness to speak on the fly is -or rather should be- a contrast to Alya, who goes around sniffing for the truth and thus always has a fuller picture. Because remember: the best liars tell the truth. So Rena's outfit should reflect that. It should be less slick and more street-savvy, something that the pendant with its long chain is especially well suited to.

Speaking of all these thematic parallels, am I the only one in the fandom who is extremely weirded out that Lila isn't a rival to Alya? Like, aren't they extremely obvious foils beyond both of them being fox-themed? The girl who bases her clout on lies vs the one who searches for the truth? The girl who pretends to be friends with Ladybug while bullying her civilian identity vs the girl who is friends with both? Have the writers ever exploited this ever since I stopped watching?

Carapace

Nino is almost perfect. I am genuinely impressed at how well they chose the angle of this costume. It's so easy for me to imagine a much shittier version with an ugly cowl/spiderman wannabe facemask -because other characters in this series take that approach-, but taking a page out of spider-gwen's book instead paid amazing dividends. He looks great as teenage not-mutant ninja turtle.

He only has two significant faults. One is that I feel his goggles should be tinted opaque orange, and he should wear a mask over his mouth and nose. You know, make the clark kenting a little easier, the stealth more pointed, maybe he can have a cool graffiti of a turtle beak over the mask for a sprinkle of his actual personality. The second is that the partition he chose for his crotch area is a bit iffy and yes, I am very sorry to talk about this. The shape of the partition itself is not bad but it's the same color, so it doesn't actually help the transition all that much and instead, sadly, it only brings more attention to the middle. My suggestion is that he should take a page out of Rise of the TMNT's book and make the plastron into actual armor that goes from his chest to his navel, instead of just a logo on the front. Then he can either wear black shorts or he can go the Rise!Casey Jones route and wear pants that are slightly baggy but still cinch to his ankles.

Then there's only one last thing he needs to be completely perfect and that is having an actual relationship with Master Fu since he is the direct successor of his miraculous and one of the first characters to be akumatized on account of his resentment towards adults, so I feel like there's a whole bunch of narrative foiling potential not being explored there, you get me?

Queen Bee vs Vesperia

Zoe's face is more interesting and I appreciate that, as well as the design team giving her a braid, but Chloe still wins this one. Vesperia's outfit is reasonably cool on its own, but it does very little aesthetically for her. Perhaps if the colors of her top and pants were inverted it could work, but there's something about the aggressive sharpness of its lines that Zoe's bubbly face is not matching, made worse by the black being at the forefront. That might not be a problem in civilian outfit, but only because that look is balanced with other colors. Or rather, I think she also needs a more casual fit to pull it off instead of a skin-tight jacket. I also get what they're trying to do with her bangs and I would love it were it not for the fact that it doesn't look good in this artstyle. Chloe also has that problem with her hair, but Queen Bee's style fits her a lot better in a much obvious way, and for added points I think Queen Bee wears the cord as a belt better too., so congrats to Chloe on her one win, I do hope the writing allows her to have proper character development later instead of constantly resetting her to square one for conflict.

[amber-tortoiseshell]

Hello again!

I decided to try and start another tournament, this time a little more broad: instead of genes, this will be the contest of colors! So welcome everyone to the

Cat Color Tournament

Rules:

Unlike the previous one with the genes, this tournament will be submission-based. There are literally thousands of possible combinations, i can't include everything. You can submit colors via the google from below or by sending me an ask.

You can submit any possible coloration, and send a breed or a specific cat to represent it. If you nominate a color without a picture, don't worry, probably i can find one myself.

You can just send a picture, and if i can tell the color based on that picture, i'll include it. (So you don't have to know the official name of your cat's color to nominate it.)

Try to submit as genetically definable colors as you can. (Example: don't write simply tortoiseshell, specify it: black tortoiseshell, cinnamon tortoiseshell mackerel tabby, blue tortoiseshell point, light amber tortoiseshell with white, ect. You get it.)

In the form I'm asking for your tumblr username; this way i'll be able to ask for clarifications if needed. If you choose to leave that part empty and i have doubts, i'll make a post to let my followers decide what the submission count as.

I'll organise the tournament if i get at least 16 different color submissions. If this is fulfilled, i'll add my own favourites, and wait to close the submissions as long as it pleases me. I'm quite patient.

Generally I'll include everything you send me.

Um, tagging inspirational tournament blogs: @best-fictional-cat and @original-cat-showdown of course, @words-for-cat-bracket, @little-cat-showdown, @thecatfight2023, @irlcats-bracket, @only-horse-polls, @rock-swag-tournament, @ultimate-monkey-tournament, @ultimate-word-tournament, @flagwars

My previous tournament can be found under the #cat color gene tournament tag.

[mushroompone]

Hello! I really love your writing and with all the hype going with the mlp infection/zombie I was wondering how do you approach writing horror/gore? I mostly like to write slice of life, romantic, fluffy stories, so whenever I try to write something darker, a zombie apocalypse for example, the violence feels juvenile and the horror falls flat. Your stuff is absolutely terrifying and amazing, so I'm just sitting here wondering how?? I know that's a broad question, but I would appreciate a peek into your thought process for writing horror. Thank you and have a good day!!

Oh my gosh you're so kind!! First off, thank you! I have really enjoyed writing horror for this community for many years now, and it's been sorry cool to see this massive interest during of of nowhere for MLP horror content!

Second, definitely a broad question, but I can offer some broad tips in response:

(1) Work with what scares you. Horror actually comes naturally to most of us, you just have to be willing to explore some of the darker corners of yourself. Consume horror as much as possible and try not to shy away from what scares you. Most importantly, though, understand why you find it scary. This leads to step 2...

(2) Drill down to the core fear. There's a lot of creatures and things that pop up in horror again and again: ghosts, vampires, werewolves, and certainly zombies. But to work with these effectively we have to understand why they scare us. The answer is different for everyone! Let's take zombies as an example: for me, zombies are scary because they are infectious. I find plagues and diseases to be really really scary, even pre-covid lol. For others, it's more about loss of control - becoming a zombie means becoming an animal, or something else inhuman. Dig until you find the why. Then...

(3) Give someone the worst day possible. Picking your protagonist is critical. The monster has to be difficult for them to face! So think about what will play well off your core fear. If you've found zombies as your monster and distilled that to loss of control .. well, Luna would be a great choice! She's all about loss of control. That's super scary and very real for her. If you're going in more of an infectious disease direction, Twilight would make more sense - she would make a very believable germaphobe, yet still be driven to help those around her and find a cure. If you do it right, all you have to do is...

(4) Sit back and let it happen. It helps to have a destination in mind (even if it's as simple as "happy ending" or "real downer"), but if you've set yourself up this way you've got a concept and you're ready to let it rip. Start writing. Be gross. Scare yourself. Look over your shoulder and wonder who might be watching you. If you get stuck, ask yourself this: how could this possibly get any worse? Then do that. With pizzazz.

The details of writing prose that is gooey, gory, and chilling come from reading. You'll start to get a feel for where to linger, where to hold back, where to describe, and what to leave up to your reader's imagination. The hardest part is the balancing act - keep some things obscured. Leave some mystery while making it clear what is scary and why. However, once your audience knows the precise size and shape of what they're dealing with, it becomes a lot less scary! My rule of thumb is that I never want my audience to be able to plan a way around the danger. They should never be able to devise their own means of escape - something should always be left uncertain or shrouded in darkness.

I hope this helps!! If you'd ever like someone to look at what you're working on, I love beta-reading pony horror :) actually, come to think of it, I love beta-reading all horror!

Again, thank you! Your an earned my heart ❤️ I love hearing that my sacred are still scaring!

[waitingforwinterwinds]

ASOS; Steel and Snow: 11 JAIME II (pages 146-160)

The BROad-trip continues as the team finds an inn along the river, where they pick up some local gossip and some horses to continue the journey overland.

-

"Did you kill them?" "Would i tell you if I did?" The man spat. "Likely it were wolves' work, or lions, what's the difference? The wife and i found them dead. The way we see it, this place is ours now."

And ain't that just a summary of it all: the smallfolk don't know or care who's responsible, all they know is someone in charge is killing them, and they're left to scrape up a life in the aftermath as best they can.

... omg, Brienne and Jaime getting the vibes, meanwhile Cleos is all 'la-lala-lala, what a lovely inn, time for a kip~"

idjit.

Cleos, you bring down the IQ of the entire party... he's going to get himself killed, isn't he? I can half imagine this as a tabletop, and the player just "it's what my character would do" attitude, while everyone else throws scrunched up note paper and "stop trying to get us killed in the first session!"

"He may have been lying about the river as well, to put us on these horses," the wench said, "but I could not take the risk. There will be soldiers at the ruby ford and the crossroads."

ruby = 🥛 I'm thirsty, so it counts.

Jaime! stahhhhp. Stop thinking mean things about Brienne!

"- Aerys had Ser Ilyn Payne's tongue torn out just for boasting that it was the hand who truly ruled the Seven Kingdoms. the captain of the Hand's guard, and yet father dared not try and stop it. -"

Ohhhhh, so that's what happened to his tongue and why.

"Tell me true, one kingslayer to another - did the Starks pay you to slit his throat, or was it Stannis? (...) Or perhaps your moon's blood was on you. Never give a wench a sword when she's bleeding."

*smacks Jaime with the steel chair* be thankful I'm not hitting you harder Mr. PMS jokes. And the only reason for that, by the way, is because I'm aware you're deflecting from your own trauma and guilt re: killing Aerys. You chose a shitty way to go about it though. Stop it.

I feel like I'm becoming more liberal with the application of chair as we go on. This series has changed me. (joking)

But when he closed his eyes, it was Aerys Targaryen he saw, pacing alone in his throne room, picking at his scabbed and bleeding hands. The fool was always cutting himself on the blades and barbs of the Iron Throne.

"Listen. Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the silly sword-chair, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony."

Yeah, and the silly sword-chair doesn't like you, Aerys!

I do like that the people who do get cut all seem to be the kind of folks who you'd think "oh of course they're unworthy, they are selfish and cruel" when you hear they get cut, and it perpetuates the idea that the Throne cuts the unworthy.

But also, the only real time we've seen that thought from someone on the Throne was from Ned, and he was well aware how dangerous the chair was.

... Jaime needs therapy for what happened during the rebellion, and probably before that as well.

They broke their fast on oatcakes , alt fish, and some blackberries that Ser Cleos had found, and were back in the saddle before the sun came up.

I don't know that I'd trust berries from Ser Cleos, he doesn't seem that bright. (I'm being mean, I'm aware.)

Luckily (fun fact incoming) there's a good chance the berries are fine.

Fun Fact:

While roughly 50% of red berries are poisonous, 90% of blue/black/purple skinned berries are edible.

[brandnewhuman]

YOOO IT YA BOI, FAVORITE CHILD HERE!!!!!!

I hear requests were open so it's crazy ape shit time 👺👺👺

Lemme getta man boobies obsessed s/o who loves s q u e e z I n dem milkers. I mean toe curling, back arching, obsessed with their honker honkers. For my bf triangle boi ofc. 😫😩

Also have a good day, drink sum hydration, eat dat raccoon trash, and sleep sometimes (last one is optional 🙃🙃)

Grabbing the bouncy

forbidden fruit

Headcanons - drabble

☆STARRING☆

Pyramid head ☆ aka the big dorito head of punishment

CONTENT

Tw: canon violence, pitiful attempts at NSFW, mature language, the big cunt being himself.

A/n: everytime I try to do something NSFW i always end up writing some hideous embarrassing atrocities but oh well, someone's trash is always someone else treasure. I did like a poll thing to know what people wanted to read first AND WHEN I TELL YOU ALMOST EVERYONE SAID PYRA TITS. YOU ALL HAVE NO FUCKING CHILL WITH ALL THAT BEING HORNY. everyone say thanks to my bruv here for requesting this gem

Ah yes, everyone's wet dream, the forbidden dorito head tits

Let's ignore the fact that if this giant bitch gets near us he would rip our sinful arses with his bare hands 

THE HORNYNESS WOULD NEVER GO UNPUNISHED. 

BUT for the sake of being silly whores let's pretend the big man can at least tolerate you and plays dumb at your questionable and foul behaviour 

Your attack at the geometry milkers took him by surprise the first time tho

It happens after he has finished his executioner duties

Ever since you have ended up in silent Hill and he has grown fond of you he likes to spend his free time observing and listening to anything you want to tell him about

He finds it so entertaining, to watch you explain things he would never understand with such passion. He kind of wishes to have the same enthusiasm for life as you do

Basically your like a cute dumb dog and he enjoys to watch your two working braincells struggle to function properly 

I think the only way you could actually grab those big ol tits is taking the chance when he's really tired 

My man walks around for hours dragging a sword as big as you, slashing shit and plus he has to exist with his own big ass heavy head 

He's built different but not that different 

PLUS, BRO ARE WE REALLY NOT ACKNOWLEDGING THE FACT THAT THIS WHORE WITH SUPERIORITY COMPLEX IT'S LIKE 7 FUCKING FEET TALL? 

I just know his shoulders and back are killing him

His relentlessness helps him to power through pain, tiredness ecc but when he actually stops and has to spend a moment being still and having time to actually think about how he feels he kind of crumbles under the weight of his exhausting life

IT IS LIKE THAT, I DON'T MAKE THE RULES. WELL, I DO BUT YEAH

The whole reason why he wanted to keep you was because you radiated some sort of calm. He literally finds himself attracted to your soft energy and when he's feeling too tired to even stand up he just looks out for you for some..YEAH WELL FOR SOME CUDDLES AND LOVE BRO. HE IS NOT JUST A GIGANTIC VIOLENT CUNT WITH A WEIRD HEAD, HE CAN BE SOFT TOO WHEN HE TRIES REALLY HARD

He's like always stressed because of what he has to do, having you around with your soothing way of being it's literally heaven for him

So when you see your big boi coming back after a long day of working, with his broad shoulders slumping slightly forward you already know what he wants

Silent Hill doesn't have many comforts so he gave you the best thing he could find for you to live in. 

Which is why you have like two really old bed mattresses on the floor, something that resembles a pillow and a blanket. 

HE WAS SO PROUD OF IT WHEN HE SHOWED YOU THE FIRST TIME. BE MORE GRATEFUL 

"You're tired, aren't you big guy?" He just nods and plants his sword on the ground before scooping you up and heading towards the bed

He doesn't even asks anymore, when is cuddle time is cuddle time and you have to just accept it 

To be fair he was already involuntarily planting your face on his stinky chest

As he dozed off you tried to slowly give his aching muscles a massage 

Everything in his body is like rock hard AND DON'T YOU EVEN TRY IT, BEHAVE YOURSELVES WITH THE FUCKING BONER JOKES

Now, as he just relaxes under your gentle touch, your hands start to wander into the small piece of heaven that is his chest 

Bro was so happy and calm he didn't suspect what your foul mine was thinking about

He has the most soft but at the same time solid daddy milkers in the whole universe. It's like grabbing a really good stress ball 

You can feel some scars underneath your hands but overall his skin is surprisingly smooth and warm

Those BADOONKAS are so fucking big bro, you have to use both hand to properly squeeze 

At first it was just a like tentative squeeze out of curiosity and he let it slide because he thought you were just trying to help him release tension and since your hands are the size of a polly pocket then you had to get really into it

Now that second squeeze tho, that was personal

he went through not all 5 but maybe three of the stages of grief

he pulled you back holding your shoulders, giving you a inquiring stare just to find you staring right back at him

AREN'T YOU EVEN ASHAMED?

"I'm not going to say I'm sorry, they're really nice"

Now he is flabbergasted 

From that moment it was like you have discovered your new reason to live

And he had to suffer the consequences of having all those bouncy hoonkas 

Everytime, EVERY FUCKIN TIME, you always grab em tits

While he finds it flattering that you find his body so nice, it creates some sort of internal conflict 

Cause, mh well how to explain… listen I'm gonna say it, PYRA HAS A SIZE KINK. NO, I WON'T EXPLAIN ANY FURTHER 

JUST KNOW THAT HE REALLY ENJOYS YOU BEING SO MUCH SMALLER THAN HIM AND JUST SO OPENLY LIKING HIS BODY 

It just boost his ego to know you find him so attractive, just the sensation of your soft hands worshipping his whole body softly but with all that care and passion

Yeah yeah, you give the stinky dorito snapped head the hots. Congrafuckinglations

I just want you all to know that I have very little knowledge of pyramid head so I'm doing shit with what vibes he's giving me and the vibes are big horny but will horny shame others 

Everytime he wants to play with you he will deny you access to his body

Just imagine this

You're about to attack his poor chest again and before you can even do anything he's already blocking you against the wall, caging both of your hands at each side of your head. "Hey! It's…it's not fair. I wasn't going to do anything" You're lying and he knows it by how red you're getting. The edge of his helmet brushes against your cheek slightly while his hands slide yours up, blocking them there to have you as expose as he wants.

His hands are so big, he can easily hold both of your wrist with just one. His other one roams freely through your body, the calloused fingertips makes you shiver. A small whimper escapes your mouth as his hand reaches your throat and squeezes just enough. You're squirming under his gaze, not from fear or displeasure but quite the opposite. He just enjoys the view of his little helpless y/n trying to get free when you both know perfectly that if he doesn't wants you to leave you're not leaving. Oh, you long feeling him so much you just can't take it when you can't reach him. 

Yeah bro really enjoys edging and denying shit like is no one business. Now that he knows your weakness he's gonna be a fucking menace

Like walking around with his whole upper body expose just to catch you staring and make you feel like a perv 

He's having the time of his life 

[thesunshinebunny]

Hello! I've seen two asks with the first reaction of a Fem!Reader dancing in an erotic/sexy way. (One with the dorm heads and one with the vice dorm heads-)

So I thought I could ask the same thing, but with Cater, Jack, Floyd, Epel, Sebek and Silver. It's okay if it's breaking the rules or you're not comfortable with writing it! But thanks in advance anyways! Stay peachy!! ^^

I never thought I'd end up making a whole series of requests for this style, and to think that the dorm heads was my first order for Twst, what a great start.

Dorm Leaders reaction

Vice Dorm Leaders reaction

As always, all characters are +18 Enjoyyyyyy

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Cater

Montero – Lil Nas X

I imagine Cater as a person who follows trends and is aware of the new music that comes out every single day, so I don't think it is weird to find him listening to the new of Lil Nas x (hiding it from Riddle obviously, knowing him that kind of songs would be strictly prohibited in the halls of Heartslabyul)

But as smart as Cater could get with social media and internet fashions, he didn't notice how you had gotten into music so much that you were mentally creating a choreography.

One specifically for him.

So, when you asked him to spend some private time in the comfort of his bedroom, he didn't expect at all that you would sit him in the middle of his bed just passing the threshold.

For a moment he thought you were going to give him a massage or a handjob, but when you told him to wait patiently, that you were going to change, his impure thoughts were dispelled, thinking that you were going to get more comfortable to snuggle with him.

How wrong he was. It was seeing you come out of the bathroom with a hoodie (that warm and purposeful had nothing), which barely covered your sports bra and shorts, half covering your butt, when all unseemly thoughts returned to his mind.

He stretched out his hands to pull you to him, but you stayed in place, saying you had another surprise.

Cater automatically took out his cell phone to record and take some occasionals photos.

Watching you dance so freely, doing a private show and personally for him made his heart race to a thousand an hour. Even his pants were starting to tighten.

It was seeing your ass and automatically biting his lips. In his mind he was wanting to place each palm on each of your cheeks and squeeze them as he held you against him, preventing you from moving, and his cock buried well deep inside you.

"Are you happy to see me?" your question brought him out of his reverie, realizing that your choreography was over.

He put the cell phone aside and pounced on you, wrapping his arms around you, capturing your lips and throwing you on the bed. Perhaps, among all the ruffle, he put his phone in recording mode and captured ... the entire subsequent session.

Don't worry, Cater would never divulge a video like that and if you want it delete it, he will do it immediately. If not, he will keep it in a folder with a password.

Jack

Solo – Demi Lovato

Jack tried multiple times to convince you to go train with him around the Savannaclaw arena, but each time you refused, stating that you liked being more in the comfort of the bed, covered up to your head, rather than get up at five in the morning to run.

He didn’t take it the wrong way, the way he trained was not for everyone, but he did advise you not to stay still and fall into a sedentary lifestyle, claiming that it would be harmful to your health.

Therefore, you decided to start training on your own, with your own time and doing a little of what you liked most; because remember: to be able to dance like divine goddesses, you need to train ... and a lot.

While he went out for a run, you stayed asleep, when classes ended it was your turn to train.

One day classes ended quite early in your case, allowing you to go to Jack's room to rest and wait for him; But the minutes grew long and what seemed like an hour of waiting turned into two.

So… loud music, more comfortable clothes and practice.

And what does Jack like more than training? See you give your best while doing what you like.

Finding you in his room dancing in sportswear was an image that he would like to print and keep in his mind.

He didn’t care that you were sweating or that the clothes weren’t the tightest to mark your figure, just seeing you move your hips was what he needed to have a smile from ear to ear.

Finish your dance calmly, that your gray wolf will be waiting for you at the door, smiling at you and with open arms to give you a big hug for the effort.

He would eat you with kisses and bites to show you how happy he was to see you happy. If this leads to more… spicy things, that's up to you.

What if I recommend you not to dance this same choreography in the training field in broad daylight, where everyone can see you. The results could be a bit possessive.

But, if you're brave enough, don't complain later if you end up with bites and marks all over your body.

Floyd

My oh My – Camilla Cabello

You walked into the gym expecting to find the basketball team training as usual, but there was no one in their place. Absolute silence.

You took the opportunity to place your backpack next to the roadways, change into comfortable sportswear and put on some music to improve the atmosphere.

When this song started to play, you elatedly stood in the middle of the gym, a sly smile on your face, completely ignoring the sound of rumbling footsteps and slowly approaching the gym.

You were in the middle of the choreography when you felt two arms gripping you tightly, leaving you gasping for air. You screeched as Floyd began to squeeze you more and more, making it impossible for you to move.

"My my, nobody taught you to pay attention to your surroundings when you're alone, koebi-chan?" that sceared the shit out of you.

"Can I dance with you?"

He pulled you closer to him, pressing your back against his torso and your hips against his, lifting you off the floor, and began to spin and sway to the rhythm of the music.

The situation made you laugh until you felt his hand pass over your chest and touch your breast. He settled you against the wall, now your pussy positioned on his erect dick, grinding it thanks to his arms that held you in the air.

At no point did either of you stop the music, letting the playlist roll on and cover the sweet moans coming out of your mouth.

Some freshman ventured into the gym when they heard faint groans creep through the large metal doors.

They got the scare of their lives when they saw Floyd pounding from behind you, staring straight at the entrance and throwing death threats with just his eyes.

Epel

Do it like a dude – Jessie J

Listen to me... you can't tell the only woman at NRC that she can't participate in a dance competition because "it's only for guys"

Uhhhhhhhhh, if I was in that situation how would break their teeth.

Buuuut, you were able to defend yourself in a better way… going to the middle of the training ground where the competition (led by Professor Vargas) was taking place.

I have to say that you left all the participants with icy skin? Other than making them feel like they have a small dick. Straight to the ego.

And Epel was no different. He wasn’t embarrassed by the fact that a girl had beaten him in steps that were recognized later is another matter not ashamed at all, not at all.

Which did bring his ego to the ground and his self-esteem was to see you give your all to overthrow sexism, while he could barely stand in the same line as those of Savannaclaw.

Either way, he enjoyed watching you dance, you seemed re-empowered and that gave you an aura of a strong and powerful woman.

If those who refused to let you participate didn’t give you the prize, rest assured that Epel will leave them in their place, perhaps with the help of Deuce.

He asked you how you could have so much confidence in yourself and that may have caused a butterfly effect ... he wanted to know, well you will teach him in bed.

Two or three tricks may have taken effect and in the next competition (or anything) Epel will give his best, even if he has you as an opponent.

Victory sex for whoever wins? Victory sex.

Sebek

Play with Fire – Sam Tinnesz

You were calm in the comfort of your bedroom, going over some class assignments, some background music, Grimm sleeping next to the bed. A normal day.

But quite boring.

You decided to go down to do a little stretching, so much time hunched over in bed looking at the notes it makes your back very bad. You took your cell phone and left the little cat sleeping comfortably.

Between those stretches you got the idea of ​​practicing a little choreography, nothing too complicated or time consuming; maybe half an hour, forty minutes and that's it.

Well, it ended up being a two hour workout, doing one choreography more complicated than the other. Night had fallen and you were supposed to have a little "date" with Sebek right in your bedroom.

There were knocks on the door, but with the volume of the music you couldn't hear them, nor did you hear the creak of the door opening and closing.

Sebek found you in the middle of the living room, moving your arms around your body. He’s not stupid, he knew you were doing a choreography and he would have enough patience to let you finish it and show up.

What he didn’t expect was to see your figure fall to the floor and move in those ... eccentric movements

Indecent thoughts get out of this mind.

You finished dancing and Sebek was still standing in the middle of the hall, not knowing what to do, where to look, and if he was allowed to speak.

"Sebek are you ok? When did you came in?"

Completely taken out of his reverie, ready to continue the evening as if nothing had happened.

Inwardly he was dying of excitement.

Without telling you anything, with the "date" half finished, having a good and sweet dinner, he just ... slamed you against the wall and took you right there and there.

You both ended up scaring poor Grimm. He just wanted to come down to eat his tuna.

Silver

Maria - 화사 (Hwasa)  

It wasn’t unusual to hear multiple and different songs in the corridors of Diasomnia, especially with Lilia as a member of the light music club; it was normal to hear all kinds of rhythms, even different languages.

Therefore, Silver didn’t find it unusual to hear Korean lyrics as he walked through the lounge of his dorm.

What he did think was strange was hearing footsteps and blows, which had a very peculiar resemblance to the rhythm of music.

In a corridor somewhat away from the common area, which led to a small meeting room and greater tranquility, you were there with the music blasting and dancing as if you were the owner of the place.

Don't get me wrong, Silver was 1000% okay with you dancing in his dorm, even if you wanted to do it on a table in the middle of the lounge room… be his guest.

What he couldn’t allow was his roommates seeing you so… free, sure of yourself, indisputably if you were wearing sports clothes or little clothes, leaving nothing to the imagination.

And if Malleus was among those people… ufff, a big no from our silver boy.

He would go to where you were and lift you by the legs, placing you on his shoulder and commenting that you could continue your dance in a more private place.

That place was his room.

"The way you dance is ... intoxicating"

If at any time the brilliant idea of ​​approaching Silver occurs to you while you dance, take it for granted that he will grab you in his arms and throw you on the bed.

Nope, he's not going to let you finish the choreography. He has another type of choreography in mind.

Lilia put up a do not disturb sign on the other side of the door, proud to see his son a grown-up… apart from the fact that he would have a little “chat” with him immediately after the deed it doesn't matter if you’re still naked and pathetically covered with sheet, he would just *pufff*

[babyybitchhh]

Law x Reader 18+

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Words: 6,653

Warnings: sexual roleplay, sex work, excessive/rough breast play, vaginal sex, creampie, set in Wano but honestly I just took advantage of that unknown period when they first arrived, chubby reader

A/N: It's okay, Law doesn't need to use condoms. He's a doctor. : )

♥♥♥♥

“Well, how do I look?”

Head coming up, Law glances over from his spot on the tatami and ire immediately flashes through stormy gray eyes. But you pretend not to notice as you turn in the doorway, letting him see the back of your kimono with its neatly tied bow and the flowing long sleeves that had delighted you when you’d first glimpsed the style of dress in this country.

Truth be told, you were really quite pleased with yourself.

Particularly after Kinemon had assured you it was a lovely choice for the role you were to take in Wano; that of a maid servant working at the finest brothel in the capital where you were sure to overhear plenty of hush hush information the others might not likewise be privy to. The place was frequented by big wig politicians, powerful samurai and members of the ruling Kurozumi faction, according to him, which meant you would be playing an integral part in the plan going forward.

You were glad for it, eager to be of some use in the coming battle to overthrow the shogunate since such an opportunity very rarely presented itself to non combatants like you.

But when you turn back around, beaming expectantly only to find Law glaring across the room, your shoulders quickly droop in defeat. “What? You don’t like it?”

Rather than directly answering the question, he scoffs and looks away. “You’re supposed to be blending in with the people of this country, not standing out like a sore thumb.”

You guffaw, glancing down at yourself. “What do you mean? Everyone’s wearing clothes like this!”

“That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

Try as you might, you just couldn’t figure out what he was finding issue with here. The rich silk print wrapped around your body was understated, not nearly as intricate or attention grabbing as those of the oiran you would soon be waiting on, but that didn’t make it any less elegant. In fact, you’d thought for sure he would like it for just that reason.

The monochrome base with its bursts of color in the form of vibrant, blooming red and pink chrysanthemums had struck you as something he would appreciate for its simple yet undeniable beauty. He’d picked out his own clothes in similar fashion, going with a basic black and white kimono and a relatively plain yet stylish jittoko to wear over top so you weren’t really sure what made your outfit any different.

They were practically one and the same - and you tell him as much when you step across the room, fully prepared to fight him on this.

But as soon as you're close enough, Law reaches out to snag your wrist and he yanks you down on the floor with him. You draw a sharp breath as your knees hit the woven mat, quickly jerking your attention up only to choke on whatever you were going to say when he crowds into your space with that steely eyed frown he was known for.

“W - what?”

“It’s not the same.” He intones, low and unamused. “I’m going to be playing a traveling monk with my face covered. You’ll be working in the red light district. There’s a world of difference here.”

You start to ask him to elaborate, because you just weren’t seeing it, but stop yourself short when the answer abruptly clicks into place.

Oh.

So it was like that.

“Could it be … you’re feeling a little possessive, maybe?”

Law barks out a quick laugh, making your cheeks warm. “And why would that be?”

“I don’t know!” You blurt, embarrassed. “Even if you’re not serious about this - about us, I just thought you might be getting sort of ... jealous, thinking about other men looking at me that way. I guess.”

“You’re not mine to feel possessive about, sweetheart. You know that.”

Too well, in fact; you think as you turn your face away to hide the hurt you were sure he’d find staring back at him.

He's quick to reach out and grab under your chin though, manually turning you back around. “Don’t pout. You volunteered for this job.”

“I just wanted to be useful …”

“You are useful.” He murmurs, the pitch of his voice dropping an octave, intentionally or not, to send static racing down your spine. “Don’t you worry about that. I have a solution that I think will satisfy both of us, though.”

“O - oh?”

Without missing a beat, Law snakes his arm behind him, grabs the tengai sitting at his knee and brings it forward so he can unceremoniously plop it down on top of your head. You squawk, hands flying up to grab the hat which basically amounted to little more than a straw basket and, therefore, should have been easy to remove. But the hand he still had resting on top of the damned thing kept it firmly in place no matter how you pushed at it and you outright seethe when you catch the slightly muffled sound of his smug, snickering laughter.

“Law, you ass! Stop!”

He hadn’t even had the decency to put it on the right way! The slats were facing out at the back of your skull and you couldn’t see anything except warm light bleeding in through the woven textiles.

“But if you wear this,” he tells you in a sobered yet no less amused tone. “I won’t have to worry about horny old perverts looking at you too much.”

“I swear I’m gonna’ - -“ You stammer to a halt, suddenly realizing what he’d said. “So you are jealous that other men might look at me!”

“Mm. Jealous isn’t the word I would use, personally.”

“Oh, then what hell would - -“

You cut yourself off with a flustered gasp when his unoccupied hand abruptly winds around your waist and finds the bow Kinemon had tirelessly struggled to fasten your obi in. He tugs at it, gently at first, and then more forcefully when it doesn’t give. With a click of his tongue, so close to your basketed head that you couldn’t miss it, Law adjusts his grip and feels around for the weak point in the knot. Once located, his long, dexterous fingers make quick work of loosening it with a soft slither of silk that makes you shudder for him and lean into the heat of his body.

The amount of sway he held over you just wasn’t fair.

“Do we really have to do this … with the hat on?”

Obi successfully undone, he starts to unwind it from around your waist one slow loop at a time.

“If I have it my way,” he says quietly. “This is the closest you’ll ever get to having anonymous sex. So the answer is, yes.”

The implication of what he was saying had you running hot, and not just in arousal. “I won’t sleep with any of the men at the brothel, you know.” You tell him tersely.

“I’m sure you won’t, but just in case you ever wonder what it would be like …”

His hand finds your shoulder as soon as the ridiculously long band of fabric is pooled between both of your laps; gentle but commanding in the way he pushes you down to lay out on the floor. You comply, though not without a soft whimper at the uniquely strange pitter patter in your suddenly tight chest.

It’s not that you didn’t understand what he was doing here.

Giving you a taste of what it would be like on the off chance hearing the girlish moans in the next room over ever sparked your interest, so you’d think back on this moment and remember how good he was at fucking you into a blissed out stupor. As if you could ever forget.

But, still, it seemed he wanted you to go into this with that knowledge fresh in your mind. And if it was the thrill of anonymity you wanted, he was clearly happy to oblige in that too. The fact he cared about something so silly, enough to remind you with a hands on demonstration, warmed you from the inside out in a way that little else ever had. He may not have admitted it in quite so many words, but this was possessive behavior if you’d ever seen it.

Admittedly pleased by this turn of events, you lay back with your arms splayed across the tatami mats and feel him move close to hover over you. Bracing a hand on the floor, he begins to carefully part the layers of your kimono with the other, one at a time, while you stare up at the inside of his tengai. You badly wanted to reach up and slip it off your head, or at least spin it around the right way so you could glimpse him through the slats, but you choose to refrain. If not because you were sure he’d just find a way to secure it until he was finished making his point then certainly because you were curious to see how far he would take this.

Law clearly felt something more towards you than just baser lust and general irritation, and that excited you almost as much as his hands on you did.

“To answer your earlier question,” he drawls, gently nudging you back into the here and now. “You look good in these clothes. Almost frustratingly so, actually.”

You gulp down the butterflies dancing in your throat and try your hardest not to smile, even though he couldn’t see it either way. “Really?”

“I wouldn’t have said it otherwise, silly girl.” His long fingers finally find the nagajuban, the last flimsy barrier separating you from him, and Law noises a brief sound of anticipation as he descends upon it.

A sedate shudder ripples down your spine while he makes casual work of spreading the robe open around you, your nipples immediately puckering when the cool air hits them. It makes you twitch and arch for him, squirming fitfully on your impromptu bed of silk; but he doesn’t stop long enough to pay it any mind and you have to bite back a groan when he somewhat callously palms your breasts with broad hands.

He isn’t as soft with you as he usually is. Not quite so preoccupied with prioritizing your pleasure over his own, and the almost greedy way he kneads at your chest serves its purpose in making you feel like a properly casual encounter. Something to vent his frustrations and nothing more.

You’d like to say it was off putting and that you didn’t like being handled so indifferently, but that would have been a bold faced lie. You were rapidly growing hot under his attention - tipping your head back inside the tengai to mewl out a whine when he bends down and eagerly seals his mouth around one stiff nipple without any of the slow buildup you were accustomed to. You were entirely at his mercy like this, in this particular role, and Law’s affinity for your breasts quickly makes itself known in the form of rough, enthusiastic sucking and nibbling that was perhaps just a little too sharply applied for it to be pleasurable.

But it wasn’t for you that he was doing this, so he takes his time indulgently suckling at the teat in his mouth until you finally whimper and twist underneath him. He comes up at the noise, leaving the tip of your breast feeling sore and unbearably coiled in the scant space that separates the shallow rise and fall of your chest from his. The tight bud gives a muted throb in the aftermath, the ache of it just edging your peripheral, and he chuckles when you squeeze doughy thighs together, rubbing them.

“Oh? You like that, do you?”

You can practically hear the roguish smirk in his tone, and your face goes hot behind the woven barrier. He knew your body well enough to recognize a sound of genuine pleasure from one of tender pain, but you don’t get the chance to correct him before the rough pad of his finger abruptly swipes over the swell of your breast. Sure and steady, it follows the natural curve of it right up to the straining nipple in the center which he delivers a sharp flick to, making you twitch and whine. The heat pooling in your gut seemed to suggest it wasn’t entirely disagreeable but you weren’t used to such indelicate treatment, not from him, and you positively writhe when he palms the weight of it in his hand again.

“My, what a sensitive little minx I’ve invited into my bed. I can already tell you’re going to be worth every penny.”

Understanding immediately dawns and you bite down on your lower lip to keep quiet as he switches his attention to the opposite tit, pinching the meat of it firmly enough to make pliable flesh spill out between his fingers. You shudder at the way he guides the puckered tip to his mouth with a sense of slow, savory anticipation, warm breath wafting against your skin moments before his lips close around it. Issuing a hazy groan, you curl your hands into the fabric laid out underneath you and arch, pushing your chest up to meet him halfway. If it was a sweetly compliant mistress of the night he expected you to play, then that was what you were going to give him.

“Mmm, you’re good at this, mister.” You murmur softly, still embarrassed to be saying it even with your resolve, and he snorts.

“Yeah? Don’t try to flatter me, sweetheart, I’m sure you say that to all the John’s.”

He goes up then and sits back on his knees, both arms stretched out across your body to cup and fondle the weight of your breasts with that same intense focus as before. A puff of air stutters out of you when he slowly drags the blunt of his thumbs over stiff points, making your pussy clench with a sympathetic flutter. Everything felt somehow that much more intense without the use of your sight and it takes every ounce of willpower you possess not to reach up and grab ahold of his bony wrists when he finally pinches one tightly coiled bud between two of his fingers.

“Nggh, w - … wait!” You mewl, your breath coming quicker when even something as simple as that makes your gut twist hard enough to leave you aching for him.

Chidingly tutting at you, Law makes a casual show of teasing your swollen nipple to straining attention while his other hand kneads the opposite breast like a happy feline earnestly fluffing it’s favorite pillow. That is to say, rather aggressively.

“Sorry, but you don’t get to tell a paying customer what to do. That’s part of the deal,” he informs you politely enough, but the reprimand itself as well as the pressure on your tit still makes you wince. “You’re mine for the night, so we’re going to do whatever it is I want. That’s what we agreed on, isn’t it?”

“... yes.”

“Good girl.” He breathes out, palming both of your tits now to squeeze them. “Stay nice and sweet for me, and I just might leave you a handsome tip when I’m done. How’s that sound, hm?”

You give your head a stilted nod before recalling that he probably couldn’t see it. “I … I’d like that very much, mister.”

“Then you had better make sure you behave yourself. I won’t give you anything extra if I don’t think you deserve it. You need to earn it. Do you understand?”

“Mm, yes … yes, I understand.”

“Good to hear.”

Giving the swell of your tits a bitingly rough pinch, Law slowly drags his palms down so that rough calluses scrape over your sensitized nipples. You can’t quite stop from crying out when the two buds give meaty little jostles in the wake of his hands, so puffy and engorged now that they felt achingly tender to the touch. He seems satisfied by the lack of protest though, and he pauses long enough to give them both another taunting tweak before trailing lower, sharp fingertips dancing across your stomach.

“You have the perfect body for this, you know.” He says, almost casually offhand. “Soft in all the right places and so very inviting. The kind of body anyone could lose themselves in, if given the chance. I’m sure you’re quite popular.”

“Mm’ not …”

Scoffing quietly, he splays his hands wide across your stomach and rubs the soft pudge there before dragging them around to squeeze at plushy lovehandles that seem to mold into his palms. You whimper at the avid attention to your body, even though you really should have been used to it by now, but he doesn’t say anything to scold you for it like some men otherwise might have. Law was more inclined to showing rather than telling, after all, and he responds instead by bringing his hands forward so he can press your thighs open for him to settle between.

“You know I don’t buy that, sweetheart. How could anyone with a working cock pass up the chance to have a pretty little pussy like this all to themselves, huh? You look like you’d just suck me right in.”

His spindly fingers dip into the space between your legs and find plump, velvety lips, slowly pressing in and spreading them apart so he can get a good, long look at you. Choking at the sensation, your thighs tense and flex as if to close him out but you stop yourself from acting on the urge with a tiny, faltering mewl. Your face is on fire behind his hat while you make do with twisting on the floor instead - your hands balling into tight little fists with layers of kimono clenched in them as you try to decide if you should happily offer him your cunt or tell him to stop. It was a surprisingly hard choice to make when he had you so vulnerably exposed like this.

“M - mister … please, you’re embarrassing me!”

“Am I now?” He chuckles faintly, making you flush even hotter. “We’ll just have to fix that then, won’t we?”

Your breath catches in your throat when you feel Law sit back on his haunches again, those long fingers of his still keeping you spread open for him. Trying to brace for what was coming next quickly proves to be an effort in futility when he crowds his other hand in with the first and presses down on your clit with expert precision, rubbing smooth little circles into it. A startled sound of pleasure erupts out of you even as your body goes ramrod stiff, the sensitive nub giving a receptive throb under featherlight pressure which prompts you to angle your hips up in search of more.

He laughs in response to the needy display, unhurriedly adjusting the position of his hand so he can flick at your clit with a slow, steady back and forth of his finger until you finally twitch and writhe, just as he wanted.

“Hmph. Pretty girl. You look good when you squirm for me like that, but I’m sure you’ll look even better when you’re squirming on my cock here in a minute.”

You let out a frazzled, sucker punched sound and twist on the floor, making your heavy tits bounce and jiggle with the jerky motion. “Please … I want it!”

“What do you want, sweetheart? Tell me.”

“N - ngh … I want - want your cock …”

Humming faintly, Law picks up the pace of his finger, battering your clit from both sides, and you almost come up off the floor with a strangled, gasping wheeze. “I didn’t quite catch that, I’m afraid. Would you like to try again?”

“Your cock! I want your cock, La - - haah, m - mister! Please put it in …”

“You’ll have to be a bit more specific. Do you want it in your mouth? Or perhaps your ass …”

You shake your head so wildly that the tengai slips up just enough for you to feel a rush of fresh air assaulting the lower half of your face, but you hardly think anything of it in your quickly mounting desperation. You didn’t need to see - you needed to feel him inside you, stretching your guts to capacity.

“No, no please, mister, not there! I want it in my pussy! Please stick it in my pussy and fuck me stupid with your cock! I p - promise I’ll be good!”

At that Law sucks in a sharp, heated breath, letting it back out in a rumbling low groan as his finger drops away from your clit to swipe through the copious slick oozing out of you, testing your wetness.

“Ooh, what a damn good girl you are. You’ll have me coming back for more, if you’re not careful. Would you like that? Do you want to share my bed again?”

“Yuh - yes! I want you to fuck me lots and lots …”

A mildly flustered sigh slips out of him, sending a brief touch of ghostly fingertips across your inflamed skin to make you tremble and shake, still so sensitive even now. “How could I ever say ‘no’ to that, huh? You’ll gladly be the ruin of me at this rate …”

He leans all the way back then, big hands retreating from your body with a deliberate sense of action. You’re left flushed and sprawled out on the floor, dizzily blinking through the needy haze that’s come over your punch drunk mind when you catch the sound of rustling fabric directly in front of you. You think to tip your head down, peering along the length of your nose, and a certain amount of surprise washes over you when you realize you can see something other than just the inside of the basket.

Past the shallow rise and fall of your chest and the soft swell of your stomach, you catch a glimpse of him moving between your bent and splayed legs. He was already naked, his borrowed kimono shrugged off and discarded; sizable cock jutting proudly into the space between you two and leaking a glistening bead of precum. You still couldn’t see Law’s face when the rim of the woven hat was taking up a good majority of your line of sight - just up to about the midway point of his waist - but that only seemed to heighten the feigned sense of anonymity in this situation.

Choking down a much needed gulp of air, you watch as if in a trance while he finishes getting himself situated and reaches out to hook his hands under your knees. Spreading them further apart and then folding them towards your chest allows him to shuffle even closer and settle the fronts of his thighs against your upturned ass, tilting your pelvis up at him in the process. He lets one leg settle beside his narrow hip so he can snake a hand into the now scant space between you two where he gives himself a few savory pumps before guiding the glans to your waiting cunt.

“L - Law!” You gasp, close to delirious at the feverish scene unfolding right in front of you.

“Hmm? Am I not ‘mister’ anymore?” He teases, slowly drawing the head of his cock up and down your slit to coat it in sticky arousal, the soft nudge against your clit on every steady stroke making your hips twitch in anticipation. “I kind of liked the sound of it, to be honest with you. Maybe I should have you call me that more often.”

In a daze, you reach down as if to grab for him but stop yourself short at the last second when you abruptly recall your assigned role here. Fingers twisting in frustration, you ball them up into fists against your lower stomach only to blush red hot at the way he chuckles, faintly laughing at you. You have to fight to keep your eyes open when you want nothing more than to screw them shut, embarrassed, and a quiet whine rises in the back of your throat as you watch Law purposefully guide himself to your entrance. He applies just enough pressure for you to feel the blunt head pressing into you, barely, but not enough to sink in yet, and your toes excitedly curl in the air, eager for the sear of penetration.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He murmurs, drawing your attention away from what’s going on between your legs. “You don’t have to hold back. I doubt you’ll be able to keep it up, anyway.”

You don’t need to be told twice, and you quickly snag your fingers around his wrists as he latches on to your other leg again, digging his fingers into pillowy soft flesh to keep them spread. Noticeably holding the air in his lungs now, Law leans his weight into you and the glans slowly breaches the first ring of muscle with an intoxicatingly delicious rush of friction that has you instantly shaking for him.

He pushes in deeper and deeper, ever so slowly, making sure you feel each individual inch that penetrates you at that tortuously staggered pace. Your eyes start to roll back before he’s even fully seated inside you, and you eventually let out some sort of desperate, wounded animal noise when he finally slides home a small eternity later.

He lets out the breath he’d been holding in a stuttering rush and it seems to rattle through his narrow chest while he takes his time grinding the sharp planes of his pelvis into the plushy give of yours. The coarse but neat thatch of curls at the base of him scratches and tickles, leaving a burning trail in their wake as you gratefully jut your cunt up into the pressure, plaintively asking for more. He felt so good inside you. He always felt so good.

“Nngh … please, Law! Please make me cum on - on your cock, please … I’ve been good …”

“You have.” He agrees, at last angling his hips back until you fear he would slip right out only to push inside again at that same frustratingly slow pace. “You’re a good girl, when you want to be. You know I’ll always reward you for a job well done, don’t you?”

You offer a quick nod, breathless, as you try to crane your neck up to get a better look at where his cock was sedately gliding in and out of you, but it only makes the tengai slide back down into place. Realizing you were once again without sight, you screw your eyes shut and groan bitterly as you toss your head back.

“T - that’s why I wanted to be useful for you …!”

Feeling him hunch over you, and rather suddenly at that, you tense when the slight change in position increases the pressure of him inside your guts. Your mouth warbles open as if to groan but nothing comes out, and genuine surprise rapidly floods the forefront of your mind when he grabs the top of the hat and pulls it off, making you blink owlishly in the suddenly bright room.

“I figured as much when you volunteered for a role as risky as it is potentially invaluable. You’re not a fighter, so it was fairly obvious you had a motive.” Fixing you with a sly smirk, he tosses the tengai aside and settles more squarely on his knees. Picking up the force behind his thrusts, now perfectly angled to drive into your upper wall and attack the tightly clustered nerves on the other side, Law clutches at you all the more fervently until you’re positive you’ll find bruises in the morning. “But I trust you … I know you’ll do a good job, sweetheart. You always do.”

Letting out a series of whimpering groans, you push up on your elbows so you can flick your attention between his glistening wet cock as it drives into you and his handsomely pinched face. “Then w - aah - what was all that b - before … you ass?”

He offers you a tersely clipped laugh. “Just a bit of fun, mostly.”

“Such a … nngh, such a jerk …”

Chuckling under his breath, Law lets up his hold on your legs in favor of sliding broad palms across your stomach, calluses scraping, to get a good grip on plushy hips. You respond with a low groan as you struggle upright so you can get your hands under you and push up, slanting your pelvis down to meet his leisurely thrusts tit for tat. The hushed sound of skin meeting skin picks up in the old room, otherwise silent besides the soft moans and faltering breaths coming from the two of you.

It was unexpectedly nice, given the circumstances.

“Yes, right t - there … haah, so good, you feel so good, Law. God, don’t stop …”

“You know I won’t,” he rumbles, possessively squeezing your sides in a pinching tight grip so he can guide you into a more energetic bouncing motion that has your heavy tits bouncing for him. “But I meant what I said earlier … any man would be a fool to pass up a night with you. I’m sure you’ll be quite popular in the brothel.”

You shake your head, sucking in a faltering gasp. “I don’t c - care … I only want you …”

“How reassuring …”

A shaky groan puffs out of him and the sound races straight to your cunt, making you clench around the stiff cock relentlessly carving out a space within you. Your subconscious reaction only seems to make him dig up into your sweet spot all the more insistently and, seething, you close your eyes, dropping your chin to your chest. You could feel the coil inside you slowly tightening just that little bit more each time he slid up inside you, making your toes curl while you struggled just to keep up with the pace he wanted.

Your legs and arms were quickly growing tired though and, with a soft, whining plea, you lift one of your hands to reach for him. Law catches on quick as usual, immediately letting go of your hips so he can curl one arm under your armpit and across your shoulder blades. With very little effort on his part, he hauls you up against him and locks the other arm behind your back so he can hold you in his lap.

“You like it better this way, sweetheart?” He murmurs, bracing his scruffy chin on the center of your chest with his head tilted back to look up at you.

“Ahh - mm, mhm!”

Clinging to his broad shoulders, you adjust the positioning of your feet and bounce on his cock a little more smoothly now. He seemed to hit even deeper than before, knocking something inside of you that made every inch of your body feel like it was on fire. You could hardly breathe through it, sucking in one haggard gasp after another while you continued to work yourself over until you felt near delirious with the need to cum.

You weren’t quite there yet though and you curl yourself around him, tucking your face into the crook of his shoulder so you can inhale the smell of him into your contracting lungs. Pinewood and ozone, the faintest note of antiseptic. You could even make out a faint trace of the dark, heady cologne he hardly ever bothered to put on. It was indescribably intoxicating, and you couldn’t take much more of it.

“Wanna’ cum …” you mewl against his collarbone, feeling like you were moments away from drooling all down the front of him. Your mind was a cotton stuffed mess.

Turning his head, Law presses his mouth to your hair and gently kisses you. “Are you starting to get tired?”

“Yuh - yeah …”

He tsks at that, the sound warm and comforting in your ear.

You suddenly choke on a sharp inhale when he tightens his arms around you without so much as missing a beat, hauling you up even closer to him and prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist with a light jostle. Crossing your ankles behind his back, you hang on for dear life as he somewhat awkwardly goes up on his knees, adjusts the grip he has on you - all without dislodging himself from your pulpy cunt - and then pivots his hips forward to test the angle.

The action rocks you in his arms, increasing the pressure on the downward slide when your soft ass paps against the fronts of his thighs. It knocks the air right out of you and you jolt, lifting your face from his shoulder so you can keen in frazzled, almost hysterical pleasure. You sounded like something wild and mindless.

“Is that better?” He whispers, his tone much too smug for him not to already know the answer.

Law doesn’t even give you a chance to respond before he does it again though, more forcefully this time, and you practically shriek in wordless delight. The momentum of his gravity assisted thrusts builds into the next, and then the next until he was fucking into you at such an enthusiastic pace that you couldn’t even begin to keep up with it.

Your mind completely blank now, you let your mouth hang open in doped out bliss while you freely moan and squeal in pleasure; the sticky wet squelching between your bodies and the sharp smack of skin on skin serving as an all too appropriate backdrop for the sounds you were making. The coil inside you was quickly reaching its breaking point and all you could do anymore was clutch at him, digging your nails into his back while he relentlessly slammed into you.

His straining grunts, so hot and heavy in your ear, had you vibrating like a wound up ball of static electricity and you hung there on the precipice for a horribly long beat, silently praying for the pin to drop. You weren’t sure how much more your aching cunt could take at this level of intensity - and then, so abruptly it almost startles you, he turns his head so he can shove his mouth against your neck and kiss you again.

It was, embarrassingly enough, the abrasive burn of his chin scruff that finally shoves you over the edge.

Toes curling to the point of genuine discomfort, you jerk in his hold so violently that it nearly tips the both of you over onto the ground. Law is quick to steady himself though and he crushes you against the front of him with a rumbling groan while your cunt spasms and tries to strangle his cock in a chokehold. You were far too caught up in the wild, full bodied tremors that were wracking through you to complain about the creaking ache in your ribs from where he was holding on to you so tight, but you also didn’t really care.

You were floating somewhere far above the physical realm, your flesh and blood body little more than an afterthought at that point.

Finally, you come back to earth with a strangled, heaving gasp, hands scrabbling against Law’s sweaty back as you writhe in his arms like you were something feral and untamed. He wasn’t about to let you go anywhere just yet though, and he rocks forward on his knees so that your back hits the rumpled layers of your kimono again. Keeping his arms locked around your quaking frame, he settles close enough to rest the fronts of his thighs on the backs of yours and pin them to the floor underneath him.

The vigorous pounding that follows seems to drag out your soul shattering orgasm to the point of real discomfort and it very nearly sends you spiraling into another. Your legs were flexing in the air, jerking with each powerful thrust of his narrow hips, but he was chasing his own high now and he couldn’t be bothered to stop long enough to pay attention to your desperate bleating. For a brief moment in time, he was a man well and truly possessed.

“Oooh, fuck, you get so tight when you cum, sweetheart, hng - haahn, your pussy’s so good to me, you know that? I’m gonna’ fill you up, baby, you ready? It’s coming …”

You jerk your head in a disoriented nod and Law drops his face to your shoulder, his slender frame shaking uncontrollably with the intensity of his fast approaching release. The obscenely loud, sticky wet squelching that noises between the two of you only seems to highlight the rough, primal quality of the seething grunts and groans that slip through his clenched teeth, rattling around inside your otherwise empty skull. You were starting to ache, in earnest this time, and reflexive tears sting at the corners of your eyes while you fervently cling to him, brokenly moaning at each desperate stroke of his cock.

For better or worse, it only takes a few minutes of this brutal pace to have Law’s hips stuttering and losing their rhythm, his thrusts gradually turning sloppy and uneven before grinding to a complete stop. Heaving, he puts the whole weight of his body into it and slams himself inside the mess he’s made of your cunt, mercilessly rocking you back against the floor once, twice, three times. On the fourth plunge, he suddenly freezes on top of you, lurching with the loss of momentum, and a powerful shudder races down his spine while he sensitively twitches and paints your guts white.

You let out a flustered groan at the sensation, delighting in the way the warmth of his release settles and spreads through you, coating your palpitating walls in creamy discharge. It was enough to send a fresh wave of tremors racing up your legs and the two of you groan in near perfect unison as you both go limp, struggling to catch your breath.

He recovers somewhat quicker than you do, eventually pushing his weight up and slipping out from between your legs so he can tiredly roll over onto his side next to you. You’re still panting when he turns you to face him, gently drawing you up against his shallowly contracting chest so you can nuzzle your nose into the thin patch of hair there. You could still smell him, a faint comfort, through the faint musk and various bodily fluids now sticking to your skin, and you were content to enjoy it for just a little bit longer.

His hand slides around to rub across your back while you both work at coming the rest of the way down from your peaks, a true feat after that unexpectedly intense session, and he lets you press in close until it was hard to tell where one of you stopped and the other began. If asked prior to this, you wouldn’t have thought you’d be all that into role playing in the bedroom but, somehow, it was actually kind of fun with him.

Law did often seem to have that effect on you.

“Hey,” he says at last, bringing his hand up and around to gently brush the hair back from your temple. “You hungry?”

Still thrumming, you give yourself a moment to think about that. “Mm, I could eat.” You murmur even as you contentedly snuggle somehow even deeper into Law’s chest, getting comfortable.

He gives an amused snort and drags his rough palm down along your side, delivering a sharp pinch to the meat of your ass to make you jolt.

“Come on, let’s go see what kind of food we can get in Wano. I’m sure we’ll find something good, or at least something edible.” Pausing, he dips his face close and presses his mouth to the top of your head, speaking into your hair. “And when we get back maybe I’ll eat you next.”

[minipliny]

Moses Mendelssohn, Emelie du Chatelet, G. E. Lessing (Nando's optional): 4, 10, 13?

Oh my goodness. I'm going to have to very gently bop Lessing with a book (of his accounts and tax returns) because that's the only person on the list I wouldn't feel terrible about.

So both Moses Mendelssohn and Emilie du Chatelet co-authored books, but those were a Torah commentary and a treatise on Newtonian physics respectively. I am not spectacularly well equipped to contribute! But I feel were I to come to du Chatelet with the stirring tale of how I was ignored by my high school maths teacher and told not to take Further Maths A-Level, while the video-game-obsessed boys were all coaxed through their exams, she would take pity on my gendered struggles to access STEM and be patient with my nigh-innumeracy as I "helped" by asking her to explain everything in words of one syllable to me.

I can read Jean Nordhaus' book on Moses Mendelssohn to him so we can find out for once and for all how far, as @suspected-spinozist rightly pointed out, this differs from his lived experience and opinions on Yiddish. OR MARTIN BUBER, TIME IS A FLAT CIRCLE NOW.

OK, I feel like du Chatelet would enjoy the part of geocaching where you figure out GPS and how coordinates work with that and get out and about on an adventure and then feel no need to repeat it, but I also got utterly distracted remembering her amazing gambling debt finance schemes and... I long for some 18th century acidic commentary upon bitcoin.

Lessing would be a delightful beachcombing companion! There is no such thing as an uninteresting rock or piece of driftwood. I don't think he is as into geology as e.g. Salt Mine Statue Goethe whatsoever, but I feel that the broad implications, the curvaceous beauties, the catalogibility of pebbles would be enjoyable.

I am going on a walking tour with Mendelssohn containing 0 overly wide ditches. It is probably a walking tour of, like, Unter den Linden followed by the theatre and a local park, because short of seeing Immanuel Kant or some thermal baths, leaving Berlin the centre of the universe was truly not worth it, but it would be an extremely pleasant walk and there would be some trees which were truly, ecstatically, wholeheartedly appreciated. There is nothing like taking some time to feel the sublime presence of a tree OK.

And finally: have as your wedding planner, have as your parole officer, have as the Fake Date you bring to a family event OH MY LORD.

Most likely to have a sympathetic and flexible system of the criminal justice system, the meaning of "guilt", and someone's need to just live their life: Lessing I imagine?

I. Uh. Wedding planner versus fake date. Shelomit thanks for doing this to my brain.

Emilie du Chatelet was kind of partied out by age 26 and was trying very hard to carve out her own time for her own interests Not That, much as she knew how TO party, so I'm. OK. I realise that Mendelssohn was absolutely not a wedding planner, but an organised...person? a low key event where everyone has been reminded of the date? nice readings? Because the other problem here is that an 18th century French aristocrat party is going to be a Lot Of Party. Sometimes people just ask you to tell them if they can have sex before marriage or to organise a cocktail reception when you're a prominent philosopher! it is how it is.

Finally, I'm taking du Chatelet as my Fake Date and I am super ready for Voltaire to turn up halfway through, cause drama, retract accusations, make up everything, declare that as he can't get it up these days it's all totally understandable &c &c &c before anyone can even get a word in edgeways. I pay du Chatelet in protractors and slide rules and fake the kind of mysterious intellectual depths that would make this scenario even remotely plausible.

[sheblah]

OK I'm apparently not done talking about this. Here I'm going to expand on my meta that DT's motivation = survival and all else is just a byproduct.

Lots of people have commented that Double Trouble does what they do purely for drama, or chaos, or because they just love destroying lives. It's as valid an interpretation as any, I guess, but I don't agree with it. They are certainly manipulative, but I don't think this trait is incidental to their personality; it's very much intentional on DT's part. If put together with other clues, I think it reveals something very different about them.

What I propose is that ultimately, DT's goal in life isn't to cause drama or have fun at other people's expense (bear with me). Their goal is to survive - or more accurately, to maximize survival chances - and they have a very meticulous way of going about it.

First I want to take a broad look at the elements that shape DT's personality and motives. This might involve some speculation, since we don't know anything about their early life and very little about their internal thoughts, but I'll stick to onscreen evidence as much as I can. What we do know is that they first appear in the Crimson Waste. I choose to assume they live there and have done so for an indeterminate time before their first appearance. And in the Crimson Waste, the strong make the rules. Not everyone can be the "strongest in the Crimson Waste." Most people just have to be strong enough to survive on their own, or else join up with the strongest like Huntara's goons or Tung Lashor's lizard gang. Since DT isn't ostensibly allied to any group in the CW, they're probably the former. And their strength isn't muscle; it lies in deception, observation, and manipulation. As a shapeshifter, they're naturally predisposed to that sort of skillset. They probably started their career of deception by shifting to blend in and escape danger, and then expanded the applications of that ability into eavesdropping, information gathering, and eventually espionage. Their best strength is knowing more than everybody else, and knowing how to use that information.

Let's go back to S4E2 for a moment. This is the first time we see DT:

They're looking down at Adora, Bow, Huntara, and Perfuma. In retrospect I thought this was odd, since they then proceed to approach Catra, not the heroes. They don't interact with the heroes until Catra has them do their "audition." Why show DT watching them? I think, in this moment, DT is choosing which side to join. For at least a moment, they consider offering their services to the Rebellion instead. We also know this because they mention the possibility to Catra.

Now my opinion is biased towards a morally gray interpretation of the character, but to me this is a pretty big hole in the popular rhetoric that DT is evil for the lulz. Why even think about joining the "good guys" if all you want is chaos and destruction? The Rebellion is about stopping all that noise. And why consider them first? We don't see DT watching Catra and sizing her up.

But before we get to that, we have to ask: why get involved in the war at all? What would drive them to leave the Crimson Waste and seek employment in the wider wartorn world of Etheria? I posit that it's because the Waste is no longer survivable.

In that episode, we see that the Valley of the Lost is crawling with Horde soldiers.

They're terrorizing the denizens of the desert. Now these are mostly hardened criminals who aren't easily terrorized, but the Horde has armor and weapons and numbers on their side. As Huntara puts it, "It wasn't always like this. It used to be a great place, where an honest criminal could carve out a life." When she says this, it's news to her; from what we can tell, she's been living in Bright Moon for awhile. But everyone else there has just been living with this new state of affairs however long the Horde has been in their valley - and it's probably been awhile since they have a whole warehouse set up. It's reasonable to assume DT has been suffering from the Horde's presence as much as anyone else who lives there. How can you make a living gathering intel when there are soldiers around every corner interrogating everyone?

It's simple, actually: if you can't beat them, join them. Or maybe join their enemies.

I think they don't have great choices at this point - either keep working and hope that business picks up while ALSO avoiding the aggressive soldiers, or get involved in a war that you and your home have avoided thus far. The choice that gives them the best chance to keep making money - and, you know, living - is to get involved with the war one way or another.

So then, why pick the Horde way? Also simple.

From where DT is standing, the Horde is winning. They have sophisticated technology, abundant resources, and enough soldiers that they can afford to station a few dozen in a remote desert town. Who does the Rebellion send to steal the ship back? Three kids and a former gang leader. And oh sure, one of them is She-Ra, but what's one superpowered princess against an army? Any way you look at it, the Horde's forces are more impressive.

So they offer their services to the Horde first, with the rebels as a backup in case the Horde says no.

So, let's summarize up to this point. Pretend you're DT. You make your living as a spy, but suddenly a powerful presence takes your town by storm and completely disrupts everyone's daily lives. Finding clients becomes difficult, and actually doing the work is next to impossible when the streets are clogged with armed aggressors. Your income starts drying up. You can't avoid the war anymore - the war has come to you. So you decide to join it. You spot a handful of outsiders trying to avoid attention and figure this must be the Rebellion's forces. It's four people versus dozens of armored soldiers with enormous resources. You pick the stronger side. But now you've gone from working with petty thugs to working with literal warlords, and that's a hell of a dangerous position to be in. If you piss off your employer, you just might die. So. How do you cover your ass?

By getting the dirt.

Because that's your strength. That's how you survive. By manipulating the people who could hurt you. By gathering information that could hurt them so bad they couldn't even retaliate. And, hey, you don't necessarily gather this information with the intent to use it - but if the crap hits the fan and you do something that'll get you on a tyrannical world leader's naughty list, well, you need something to defend yourself with. For you, information is the best weapon.

That explains why they're so determined to get in Catra's skin. They want to know what makes her tick, her strengths, her weaknesses, her obsessions. It's not just for the love of acting. These are all bullets that they can use to bring her down if need be. And when they decide to switch to the other side? Need be.

Giving Catra that devastating speech has multiple effects. I think a part of them really does care about Catra and wants to be honest with her. But my theory is that they're mainly trying to get one important message across:

Don't try to retaliate for this betrayal. I know enough to destroy you without throwing a single punch.

As an ending note, I want to examine that line above. "The best way to survive is always choose the winning side." As amusing as the "would sell you to satan for one corn chip" memes are, that's not actually the sort of attitude they have about betraying Catra. They're not talking about getting a reward here. No mention of superior pay is made. They're not saying they destroyed everything she's worked for on a lark (although they may have had a lark in the process). They're talking about literal survival. The basic gift of continuing to stay alive. That's what they betrayed Catra for. They do the math in that cell in Bright Moon, figure they're on the losing side of the war, and decide what they're getting from the Horde isn't worth getting killed over. Anything else they get out of it is incidental.

Mind you, none of this is meant to imply that they don't enjoy messing with people's heads. There's abundant evidence that they do. Rather, my point is that they probably learned how to manipulate people not as a hobby, but as a vital survival skill... and probably long before they learned to enjoy it.

[rebellingstagnationblog]

2019 Geronimo Christmas Fics

That’s right, we’re doing it again! 25 new Geronimo fics published December 1-25.

The title? “That’s Christmas to Me”

The playlist? All Pentatonix songs

The theme? Well, why don’t you see for yourself? Here’s a first look at day 1

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

[[MORE]]

This world was dark, even for her tastes.

Physically, that was.

She could not yet speak for the metaphorical; she had only just arrived, after all, and rumors were nothing to base one’s perceptions on.

Searchlights were the primary source of light, their long beams stretching up into the dark sky, making a long sweep from one end of the metropolis to the other. If there was a moon or stars, she couldn’t tell. The searchlights were too bright to allow anything in the vast vacuum of space to shine down onto the world below.

Her boots crunched on the newly fallen snow, a satisfying snap snap snap as she made her way down the street. There was no question as to the direction she was headed. The building in the center of town was the one to which the searchlights were fixed, giving off its position with all the finesse of a disco ball.

Darkwarrior Duck might be the most fearsome of all the Darkwings in the multiverse, but he still had the same ego. The same lack of sense when it came to anything involving stealth or sophistication.

At least there was order here. Her simmering irritation was soothed at seeing how precisely the citizens moved about. Crossed the street at crosswalks. Cars merged with clear signals for at least 300 feet before changing lanes. Everyone stuck to their side of the sidewalk, eyes forward without any sort of technology out to distract them.

It was because of this — this enforcement of rules and regulations — that she was walking down this sidewalk to begin with.

She crossed the street with a few citizens and continued marching toward the building that set her teeth on edge. On her own. No one else was heading anywhere close to this part of town.

Dark ebony robots, the shapes of which resembled Darkwarrior’s head with claws extending out below their beaks hovered before her. What a terrible design. Their only option for movement was strictly airborn since they had no legs. And it seemed rather arrogant to shape something after one's own features.

Then again.

Look at their designer.

“Identification, please,” came the modulated voice. Weak and wavering compared to those in her own world.

She stared unblinkingly at the robot. “Ana Di Lengo.”

The robot hovered, bobbing up and down gently, completely silent for a few moments. “Error. Death records exist for one Ana Di Lengo. Identification, please.”

She sent the bot — and whoever was watching through it's cameras — a thin smile. “Death records exist for the Ana in this universe perhaps. I, however, am not from here.”

The robot fell into silence again. And moved aside as the door behind it swung open.

Complete blackness yawned before her, the building imposing and endless. She stepped through without a moments hesitation.

It was all for show, this grandiose structure. The security out front meant to intimidate the visitor and give them some idea of who they were about to deal with.

But Ana was not intimidated.

The blackness inside was not so complete that she couldn't see where she was going. The lobby was empty, a colossal curved staircase curling upwards that took her to the second level. Into a rounded antechamber, which also was empty.

The walls were fitted with large panels of glass, windows revealing the sprawling city around them. Pale snow blanketed the streets and buildings, dulling the lights that tried their best to illuminate the darkness. In the center of this rounded chamber was a circular platform, along one side of which were stacked rows of computer monitors like bricks in the facade of a building. They showed the city from different angles, some stationary shots evidently from fixed cameras and others moving, likely from robots on patrol, sending back their feed.

Within this half-circle of monitors sat one solitary chair. Padded. With low arms and a wide back. Almost wide enough to obscure the figure that was sitting in it. Almost.

The room was not so empty after all.

The chair was facing away from her. But she didn't need to see his face to know who was lying in wait.

“You're very far from home,” came a purr out of the darkness.

Ana came to stand at the edge of the platform, hands tucked behind her back and head held high. “Turn around and face me, Drake. Where are your manners?”

The figure stiffened either at her tone or at the casual name she called him. Whichever the reason, Ana felt her beak twist into a triumphant smirk.

She allowed it to fall as the chair swiveled around. No need to show off.

Within the plush upholstery sat a familiar figure. Wearing the ridiculous purple outfit with a large brimmed fedora in a matching shade. He had foregone the button down suit and substituted it with something akin to a jumpsuit that was belted at the hips. Military grade boots — steel toed by the looks of them — would have blended into the darkness if they hadn't been polished to a shine. The infantile cape was secured around his shoulders, tucked underneath sizable spiked shoulder armor, making him all the more imposing and broad.

There was still a mask secured around his face, but his eyes glowed red. It was into these that Ana stared, unabashed and unafraid.

As Darkwarrior Duck sized her up.

She in her own black uniform. Much crisper and more impressive than his spiked armor. Drake was many things; subtle was not one of them, no matter the universe.

“Are we going to discuss why you're here? Or is this a staring contest?” he asked, his voice carefully controlled and giving away nothing. She was almost impressed. Almost.

“Don’t joke with me, boy,” Ana snapped. “You can guess why I'm here, surely.”

Darkwarrior leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in his militaristic gloves. “It must be something big if the great Ana Di Lengo traveled all the way from the Posiverse to visit me.”

“Oh, yes, bravo,” Ana intoned, glaring at Darkwarrior down her beak. “Come, come, Drake. If we are to be allies, I must be able to trust that you can put two and two together on your own.”

He frowned. “My name is Darkwarrior.”

Ana narrowed her eyes a fraction. “Not to me.”

Darkwarrior eyed her.

She let the silence linger.

Silence is a funny thing. Everyone is quick to break it. It makes people uncomfortable, you see. The lack of noise makes them believe they need to be filling the void with something. If you stay quiet long enough, your counterpart will inevitably start talking.

“Allies, you and I?” Darkwarrior asked. “Against whom?”

Case in point.

Silence: a leader’s most effective tool.

“Against the monstrosity that is Gosalyn Mallard Prime.” Saying the name was like a bad taste on her tongue. Gosalyn Mallard had come into Ana’s world to be put on trial and punished for her rash actions of traveling around the multiverse. She had not only escaped her lifelong sentence, but had incentivized the people of Ana’s world — the Posiverse — to uprise and fight against the rules that had been put in place to protect them. Even Ana’s second in command, her own son, had gone against her and joined ranks with the Gosalyn from their own world.

Gosalyn Mallard Prime had ruined everything.

And Ana would show that girl the justice that was in the wake of such haphazard and reckless rule breaking.

Ana took a breath.

Patience.

All in good time.

Darkwarrior raised an eyebrow, still peering over his steepled fingers. “She has a big support system. To go against her is to go against them all.”

“Hence why I am here.”

Smirking, Darkwarrior leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You need me.”

“And your robots. When going up against repeat rule breakers, it's best to come prepared with the full force of the law.”

Darkwarrior Duck was grinning fully now, a cunning curl of his beak.

Another voice, however, came from the darkness. A slighter sound, weaker. “We can offer our full forces.”

Ana glanced to where the voice had come from and felt her fingers twitch at the sight, ready to grab a weapon. But she stayed her hand.

It was another Gosalyn. This one brown haired and softer. More reserved. She seemed to have some semblance of rules and etiquette, her hands hanging at her sides and her expression one of respect as she surveyed Ana with her green eyes.

Ana pushed aside her confusion — the entire point of the Darkwarrior universe was that a Gosalyn didn’t exist, after all, so how one could be here was mind numbing — and inclined her head. “Together, I am confident that we can accomplish our goal.”

“No violence,” this brown-haired Gosalyn said as she stepped fully out of the shadows and stood beside Darkwarrior.

Ana studied them together, the dark uncompromising version of her son and this girl who shouldn’t exist. Really, neither of them should exist. This universe was a blight on an otherwise perfect system.

But, desperate times.

Ana bowed her head. “No violence,” she echoed.

The brown haired Gosalyn nodded. “Then we will help you bring order to the Prime Universe.”

Ana sent a thin smile to the girl. “Might I ask who you are?”

“Christine.”

Still a Gosalyn, but going by a different name. Interesting. Ana would need to study her records to find out where this one had come from, for it surely wasn’t here. Could not be here.

“You have a bright future ahead of you, my dear.” Ana looked between the two. “Shall we settle on a date?”

Darkwarrior finally stood, gesturing off to the side. “We can use my consulting room.”

“There’s less potential of being overheard in there,” Christine offered, a smile gracing her beak as she led the way.

Ana nodded once in agreement before following the impossible girl.

P.S. Since I’m not taking requests for stories/songs this year for the main story, I will happily take holiday related requests from people if they’re interested. DM me so we can talk more!

[cssns]

Hello again everyone! Please help me welcome @courtorderedcake back to the CSSNS!!!

I am soooo thrilled to be welcoming Court back to the CSSNS this year! Everyone go say hi and give her some love!

Tumblr Name

@courtorderedcake

How long have you been in the CS/OUAT fandom?

2 years, 5 mos

When did you start shipping Captain Swan?

The minute Killian Jones tied a strip of fabric around Emma's hand, and then she shackled him to a rock. I knew that relationship was going to be hot 🔥.

What drew you to this event?

Last year I wrote this amazing story, but was too shy to share it, and too fucking lazy to finish it. Now, I want to finish it because it's so close to being done, and so am I.

What inspired your topic?

Old school Faerie stories, and a few other ideas that fell into this.

If you would like to share a snippet/sneak peek/summary of your fic or artwork, please use the space below.

In the darkness, she caught a flash of her flame reflecting off leather, a hand wearing several rings twitching in the dim.

”Hello?” She called, opening her palm to expand the blue light of the wisp. “Who’s there?”

The blue light cast an eerie glow on the iron bars built into the cave, lighting the sparkle of quartz in the stone walls. She leaned into the dripping cell, trying to see the creature that lurked out of her sight. Searing heat lit in her forearm as she accidentally touched the iron, hissing in pain.

”Careful Princess.” a voice said drolly. “Wouldn’t want to burn such lovely skin.”

She threw the light into the front of the room, conjuring another in her hand as her eyes widened. There in the corner sat a man, dark haired and pale skinned, sharp angles of shadow playing across a face that was clearly fae. He looked up, hair a shaggy, grown out version an older style. He was unshaven and although grime covered his cheeks, his steely blue eyes showed an alert edge that frightened her.

“Who…” She straightened her back, and tried to hide her gulp. “Who are you?”

He laughed darkly, and flicked his hand to extinguish the wisp. It sighed as it sputtered out. She peered into the darkness again, trying to find his silhouette.

He was suddenly in front of her, stepping into the light cast from her hand, smirking. He stood taller than her, broad shoulders and muscles not hidden by an out-of-style laced shirt, and leather breeches. At one time, there may have been a cravat, but now his chest was bare and dark hair glinted blue in the light and what looked like a waistcoat lay rumpled in a corner. She caught his eye and his eyebrow cocked up, the smirk on his face widening.

“I’m Killian. Killian Jones.” With another flick of his wrist he extinguished the wisp in her palm, and she cursed, summoning another with shaking hands as he laughed at her.

When a new blue flame danced in her hand, she saw him walking back to the corner where he’d originally sat. Squinting her eyes, she followed his form as he relaxed back against the wall. Through the dim light of the cell, she could see how bare it was aside from a few books, a chamber pot, and a straw cot that looked mostly unused. The cell was smoothed, all edges almost melted away. He had nothing to end his own life with.

They were by no means fully immortal. She’d heard tell of Fae crushed, or wounded by iron swords. The elements were never feared; being friends with the air, the sea, the earth and even the flame meant that they had no worry of death by them. Immortality only meant they would stay in their youthful form. Even a hard press against the iron would only leave painful burns that healed before death. What had happened to him? Why was he here, rotting away in the rarely used dungeons?

“How do you know who I am?” she asked, tentatively stepping closer to the bars again. “Why are you here?”

His laugh echoed off the walls, surrounding her, making her shiver as if she was chilled.

“I know many, many things, Princess.” He held the ‘S’ longer, and she felt her chest constrict slightly. He turned over his shoulder, eyes catching the blue of the wisp making them look more unearthly. “I’m here because I tried to kill your family… And you.”

“You're… You're the Dark One?” Emma looked him over again, confusion written on her face as she chewed her lip. “That can't be right, you're my age and -”

“Simply held in a sort of stasis, darling. Immortal and cursed to serve a never-ending sentence rotting down here, while the royal family rules with an iron fist.” He hissed, snarling at her. Darkness flared behind him, shadows moving in snake like sinews. Emma tried to remain brave but felt herself tremble at his vitriol. His temper cooled as quickly as it had flared, almost as if he was a different person. “What do I owe the displeasure of your visit anyway? You weren't expecting me, I'm guessing?”

“I…” Thinking on what even to say, Emma watched the eyes of a predator survey her, trying not to focus on the way he captured his bottom lip between his teeth or the crazy gleam in his pupils. He looked feral, and it unsettled her. Taking a deep breath, she tucked into the familiarity of decorum. “I have been tasked with partnering with you to help defeat a threat, a siege currently taking place.”

Killian Jones blinked twice, and then laughed.

Emma had never heard anything like it, the dangerous edge of a low growled chuckle, like the rumble of thunder as lightning lit up a darkened hollow. It was jarring, madness right in front of her eyes on display.

“Well. Aren't you a daring lass. What's in it for me, if I should help you?” he asked, and stepped forward, laying his palms on the bars and watching with depraved amusement as his flesh hissed.

“Oh, well -”

“You didn't think I would do anything for you or your family without payment, did you, princess?” Her cheeks reddened and he laughed maniacally.

“Honor, you'd -”

“What use do I have for bloody honor?” He interrupted, darkness flaring around them as he yelled, the sound echoing through the stone chambers.

“Gold, and jewels -”

“You think money can buy me to save the people who -”

Emma's heart raced, and she shouted over his voice. “A deal! A deal. My parents freedom for your own.”

Silence fell in the dungeon, the only sound the low drips of water. The Dark One looked at her incredulously, mouth agape.

“You're… You're not joking.”

Returning his own shocked whisper, Emma took a step forward. “I'm not. We have a mutual alliance in each other.”

Pulling the shard out of her dress, he hissed out a sound of longing.

“I'll take the deal. Set me free and you will have your parents freedom in return.” He looked at her hungrily, his eyes zeroed in on the silver chain around her neck.

“No funny business, if you don't free my parents the deal is off, alright?” Emma shot him a look, and he reached his hand through the iron bars for her to seal their accord with.

“Yes, yes. Now free me!” He breathed excitedly, and Emma shuddered.

Placing her hand in his, she shook. The bars shimmered, falling away like silver feathers that disappeared into nothingness. At first, he stood as stunned as she did, his mouth open slightly and eyes wide. Emma watched as a smile crept slowly over his face, blackness devouring everything around her, choking her like smoke, the world shifting as if she was thrown into the night sky absent of stars.

What are you looking forward to most about participating in this event?

Getting this piece done. It's killing me.

Court has done kilt me... this looks sooo awesome!!! I can’t wait for her fic to drop on August 1!! Everyone go welcome her back to the event!

[oberlinexecutivefunctioning-blog]

Advice for Long Study Sessions

As finals approach, I imagine that almost everyone is facing down the barrel of long nights reading, cramming, drafting, and editing.  Here are some clever ways I've picked up to break up, optimize, and fully utilize that five hour study block on your calendar.  

Use the Pomodoro Method.  This method is the most famous way I know to break up a long study session, and I have to include it first.  The basics are as follows: you work for 25 minutes, take a break for 5 minutes, work for 25, break for 5, etc.  Every four cycles (2 hours), you take a 15 minute break to refresh.  A lot of people swear by this method or some adjusted version of it.  I know some people who promise that a 24 min work/6 min break ratio is ideal.  Some insist that 50 min work/10 min break works best.  No ratio is right for everyone, so feel free to try a few out to see what you like.  There are TONS of pomodoro timer apps out there, including ones that block use of your phone during the work time, and you can always pick up a regular kitchen timer as well if you want to stay well and truly off your phone.  I find that the Pomodoro method works well for anyone who a. Doesn't mind working by a timer and b. Wants something simple and customizable that takes little extra thought.  

Use Music Cues.  This one works really well for me, but it's a bit unorthodox.  Basically, you format your study around a certain playlist or set of playlists.  First, take some time to decide the "function" for certain songs; the rules can be broad, like "songs without lyrics are study songs and songs with lyrics are break songs," but I find it more effective when actual specific songs have their own functions.  After all, I like listening to songs without lyrics when not studying, too! For me, there's a certain song ('oranges in winter' by Bassti) that signals to my brain that It Is Study Time.  My study playlist starts with that song, works through around 30 minutes of Study Music, then hits a specific song (like Iron & Wine's awesome version of 'Time After Time') that means it's time for a break.  I break for three songs, and then 'oranges in winter' plays again.  Every time I listen to the playlist, the cues grow stronger.  I recommend this method for anyone who a. Likes listening to music while studying, b. Doesn't like working by a traditional timer, and c. Doesn't mind taking some time to make a study playlist like this.  

Plan Breaks in Advance.  Personally, I hate the feeling of reaching a study break and suddenly having to decide what to do for 5-10 minutes.  Decisions are stressful, and more often than not, I end up spending the whole break thinking up things I could be doing and trying to decide which one I should do OR scrolling something on my phone to avoid the decision, neither of which is a real break.  I've listed some possible break activities on this blog before, so go check those out if you dont know what sort of breaks you want to be taking.  If you do have some idea of how you like to take your study breaks, try listing them out for yourself on paper.  Next time you stare down a long study session, pick a few out and place them in order that you want to do them.  If you keep a study playlist, you could even pick certain break songs that indicate different break activities.  A key is to choose more than one break activity and alternate them.  Your brain thrives on variation!

Spend your First Study Block Planning.  You may have noticed a theme in this list by now.  Breaking up a large block of study into smaller blocks of time is essential.  Unless you manage to tap into your hyper focus (man I wish I could do it on demand), you will need to pace yourself.  Part of pacing yourself is making small, manageable goals that each fit into one study block.  For example, I'm a slow reader, especially when I'm researching for a paper.  My study blocks often say "Read and annotate 25 pages".  Do I have 300 pages to read? Yes I do.  But there's no way I'm getting that done in even ten 30 minute blocks of time if I want a quality annotation list to use for my paper.  It's no use putting down "Read x book," because I'm not going to be able to do that.  If you set down manageable goals for your study blocks ahead of time, you will be able to a. Meet your goals!, b. Feel accomplishment, and c. Know what you're supposed to be doing at every moment of the long study session so you're never left floundering in limbo-zone.  

Be Open to Changing Locations.  Sometimes, staring at the same damn wall for five hours just feels like torture.  It's important that you have several study locations in mind for yourself so that you can refresh your mind, especially if you get stuck or frustrated.  Even just changing which seat you're sitting in at the same table could provide you with a fresh perspective, both literally and mentally.  Bonus points if you manage to sit in every level of Mudd during the same long study session.  (They really do each have their own personality.) Extra bonus points if you get some fresh air while you change locations.  But caution! Make sure you have a few locations in mind BEFORE YOU START.  It's way too easy to end up wandering campus in search of the Perfect Study Spot for hours on end.  It doesn't have to be perfect.  It just has to be new.  

Stock your Backpack.  If you're going to be studying for even a few hours, you're gonna need a snack.  You're gonna need water (and lots of it).  You might want any any point: mouthwash, deodorant, a hairbrush, stim toys, stress balls, extra pens, highlighters, post-its, photos of loved ones, mints, tampons, earbuds, gum, and/or tissues.  A long study session is a marathon, so be prepared! Think I'm being dire? These are ALL examples of real things I have really needed during a study sesh.  Customize the list for your needs. 

Make Yourself at Home.  This is related to the previous point, but it's important to emphasize.  Studying can be really enjoyable (really!) and it can also be really grueling.  Most importantly, it is your own time, and it's important that you make it your own.  Bring pillow and blanket to Mudd.  Erect a shrine in the corner of a lounge.  Do what you need to do to make YOU comfortable.  It is incredible that we are allowed, encouraged, and (yes) essentially forced to spend hours on end learning and growing.  I know those long finals hours can be super stressful and demoralizing.  You might feel like beating yourself up.  "Why didn't I just get this done earlier?!" or "Why am I just not getting this?!" Try not to get sucked into that stuff.  What's passed is passed, and you will have time for reflection later.  When it's study time, you have only the tasks in front of you and the environment around you.  As long as you plan those well and make them as nice as possible, you are on your way.  

I have spent my share of nights fretting over papers due the next day and long sessions before a test cramming as much information as I can into my head.  I'm not here to shame you for being behind or stressed.  These tips are meant to be taken as guides, not instructions.  If you never make The Perfect Study Bag filled with everything you could need, well guess what me neither.  Gosh, who has time for that? Serious props to you if you do it. (Send pics, seriously) But thinking about what you need during a study session is important, and that's why it's on this list.  I promise that you are doing GREAT, and I wish you the best of luck these finals!

[ill-be-istj-if-no-one-else-is]

(1) Hi Em, so I hope this isn't too much of one of those annoying "how would the types react" meme template asks. If it is, then I completely get if you're not interested in it. But I thought I'd ask. So I've been listening to some late 90's/early 2000's music that have strong themes focused around the state of affairs in the world. Talking about government corruption, school violence, or war.

(2) And so it's widely known that INFP's, for better or worse, have been known as the most stereotypically vocal when it comes to these topics, or issues. And so Em, this is where we might be entering "Meme Template" territory. But I was wondering what you might think on how each type would react in terms of being presented with large global-encompassing issues in which they're either asked to take an active or passive role in either bettering it, or furthering the issue.

(3) Everyone pretty much knows the stereotypical answer for INFPs, and negligible of the accuracy of that assumption, any type can have issues with these sorts of things, be affected by them, feel a personal responsibility towards them, or would have a multitude of reasons for why they wouldn't want to get themselves involved.

(4) I hope I'm being specific enough, but I guess the TL;DR of it is this: how would the types personally feel they'd need to respond to global or at-home issues when hearing about/being confronted by them, if at all. I hope it's not too broad. I also have some of the songs if you'd like to know what exact sorts of topics made me start to wonder your possible thoughts on this, since these song writers seem to be of different types.

(5) Again, I hope I'm being specific enough in my question, and that you might find it interesting to answer. I appreciate it if you do decide to answer for any of the types, thanks! Oh, almost forgot. I'm mainly asking about the MBTI types, but if you'd like to throw in Enneagram (Idk how you would) or be more specific with cognitive functions, go for it, I'm all ears! (Or if you'd like to point & laugh at my attempt to get you to answer a "How Would the Types" Template Ask, then do so then XD) 

-------

yeah so I dislike “How Would The Types” template asks not because they lack specificity, but because you can’t use MBTI to predict actions in this way. In this case I think there are some responses that occur independently of where one falls on the political spectrum that are perhaps more likely in certain types, but a person’s politics are so much more influenced by basically everything else in their life that I literally cannot give an answer I feel good about. It’s not even fun in a shitpost way. It’s just weird sad lies for no reason. I don’t even want to be sarcastic at people who ask these things, I just want them to get that this isn’t how this works.

When it comes to global issues and political issues, I’m of the belief that on the whole people get drawn into meaningful action when they or people they personally know are directly affected. This is not related to type or feeling functions but just being human. It is easy for the average person to tune out suffering that will not directly impact them, and it’s arguably not even callous that we do it; constantly feeling every single injustice is a recipe for burnout. But when it’s your own safety or wellbeing or that of close friends or family, then naturally inaction is more dangerous than burnout. This is going to be type-independent because any type can be of a specific group that experiences discrimination, or is in a war zone, or is affected by climate change in a more immediate way than most, or is in a specific social class, or so on.

When it comes to the form of the action, its going to be more based on opportunity. Like, yeah, a singer is going to sing about it, and professional musicians are often xSFPs though by no means exclusively so, and I can see introverts being less into door-to-door canvassing (to use an example) but that’s about the extent of it. If you’re in a location with existing activist structures that work towards similar goals as your own, chances are you’ll use that and whatever they’re doing, because it’s easier and the system already exists, and that will be true across types. If you have a lot of privilege in a space you’ll be using that, and if you don’t you may be working outside of the framework, and since privilege is going to come mostly from circumstances of birth, this is also going to be type independent.

If I missed your point let me know, but as a rule MBTI is going to be a slight weighting factor in how most people react to most big things, with factors like culture, education, upbringing, and the specific details of a scenario providing far more insight. The only “how would the types respond” questions that I'd feel like I could answer are for super frivolous things, like how would the types respond to a surprise party, and then my attitude is like "maybe write your own fanfiction”, vs. “this is impossible to answer well and will serve only perpetuate stereotypes that I actively don’t want to perpetuate.”

[dorothydelgadillo]

Why You Need to Know What Problem You're Solving for Every Single Design Project

Designers. We are all elusive, creative geniuses right?

Well of course we are, but I’ll let you in on a little secret, we weren’t born this way.

Design is a skill. Sure, it comes with plenty of gut feelings and innate talent, but the best designers aren’t strictly artists, they’re also great critical thinkers.

The best designers understand how to identify a problem and use their skills to solve it in the best way possible for the user.

Problems Are The Secret to Good Design

No matter what the project, identifying the goal or problem is a must.

If there is no problem to solve, you’ve set your designer off on a directionless path that may produce visually beautiful results, but lacks intention.

Here at IMPACT, we see this time and time again with brands who come to us for website redesigns.

Their sites look amazing! Some serious attention to detail has been put into each pixel that completely delivers aesthetically.  

But while it may deliver visually, it completely lacks in user-oriented solutions.

These websites usually have some similar traits:

They use a lot of “we” as opposed to “you” phrasing

The order of on-page elements serves to highlight the brand (awards, press-releases, products), as opposed to helping the user alleviate their pain points as quickly as possible

They aren’t converting leads, and why would they since they are focused on what a brand offers versus how they can help

Because there was no specific problem identified at the beginning of the design phase, the designer simply created a beautiful online brochure that never had any intention of helping the user solve a problem or in turn, helping the brand achieve a goal.

The intention of any website should be the same every time: solve for the user.

Without the user, there would be no need for design at all. You need to make sure your website or project’s aim is to deliver answers and value to the user.

But, solving for the user is trickier than it sounds. To do it effectively, you must understand your user, their wants, needs, and most importantly the desires they don’t know they have.

So, how do you even begin going about solving for the users unknown intentions?

Well, I’m glad you asked...

Tackling Design Problems

What is a design problem exactly?

Design problems aren’t your average dilemmas In fact, they usually have a single component that sets them apart from all others: the need to solve for unconscious desires.

One of the most famous examples of this is Henry Ford upon building the Model T. He said, “If I had asked people what they wanted, they would have said faster horses.”

Ford understood that horses were too slow, but that wasn’t the problem to be solved. There was a much deeper need that his customers couldn’t articulate because they couldn’t fathom the solution.

Design problems focus on the user’s purpose, not just the unwelcome pain or situation.

Ford ultimately understood that his customers needed to get from one place to another faster.

This unique distinction helped him create something that didn’t exist rather than improve what already was.

Framing the Problem

Once the problem is identified, you need to give it context in order to fully understand it.

Framing a problem with a statement narrow enough will bring focus to a designer, but it also needs to be broad enough for creativity.

When a problem is properly framed and deeply seeded in your user’s purpose, you can easily see the types of barriers that are in the way of reaching your ultimate goal.

Better yet, it acts as a very necessary filter. It rules out the superfluous and irrelevant ideas (you know, the “make it pop” ones?) and only allows room for ideas that meet the user’s needs.

Framing problems also brings a shared perspective. When everyone is working towards the same goal, the process becomes more efficient.

So, how do you get started framing a problem effectively?

You gather your stakeholders and you ask four simple questions:

Who is affected? Who is experiencing the problem and how specific can we describe them?

What is the problem? What are the struggles and what ultimately needs to be accomplished? Are there pain points that need to be relieved?

Where does it happen? What context does the user experience this problem?

Why does it matter? Why is this a problem worth solving and what value does this bring to the user?

All of these questions will lead you to the goal of creating a problem statement.

Problem Statements

Problem statements are kind of like MadLibs, structured sentences with blank spaces to fill with your specific insights.

This “template” helps to create a statement that is concise, but also fully rooted in your own research.

Remember, you want to be specific enough to share a vision of the solution, but be broad enough to allow for creativity.

Here are two examples:

From the point of view of the user:

“I am (persona) trying to (verb), but (pain point or barrier) because (a specific cause) which makes me feel (emotional response).

From user research:

“(Persona) needs a way to (user’s need) because (insight from research).”

Every single problem statement should always be human-entered. Every problem is about the people you are trying to help, first and foremost.

Technology and revenue are byproducts of great problem statements that have led to the most innovative of solutions.

So, how do we ensure that we are approaching every design project with a problem to solve?

We utilize the Design Thinking methodology.

I know, breaking design down to a methodology feels weird; it lacks all that creative edge, but hear me out.

What Is Design Thinking?

Stay with me, I’m going to break down the “why” and the “what” of this process, so you can go back and determine the “how” for your organization.

Design Thinking is a methodology that can be applied to more than just design.

It  is a methodology used for both practical and creative problem solving that is user-centric, existing to focus on humans.

It seeks to understand a user’s needs and determine the most effective solutions to meet those needs.

You can think of it as a solution-based approach to problem solving.

What Is the Design Thinking Process?

As you can likely conclude, the Design Thinking process is meant to be both iterative and highly user-centric.

It consists of four principles and five phases.

The Four Principles of Design Thinking

These four principles were laid out by Chistophy Meinel and Harry Leifer of the Hasso-Plattner-Institute of Design at Stanford University, California. You can access their full research here.

  1. The Human Rule

Design is a response to the user’s social circumstance; a decision made based on usually negative consequences endured by someone. Any innovation to this will still require action from someone trying to solve for the user first.

  2. The Ambiguity Rule

Ambiguity is inevitable and this cannot be removed or oversimplified. Experimenting at the limits of your knowledge and ability is crucial in being able to see things differently when faced with it.

  3. The Redesign Rule

All design is redesign. While technology and social circumstances may change and evolve, basic human needs remain unchanged. We only redesign the means of fulfilling these needs.

  4. The Tangibility Rule

Making ideas tangible in the form of prototypes enables designers to communicate them more effectively. (Think of this as the “I’ll know it when I see it” rule!)

Now, if you really think about and embrace them, these principles are quite liberating.

With them, as the problem solver, you’re free from the pressures of having to have the exact right answer every single time you approach a problem.

This set of principles is specific, but doesn’t tell you how to go about solving the problem.

They establish guidelines that need to be met, but allow the problem solver to experiment, embrace naysayers, stay humble, and most importantly, stay focused on solving for the user.

The principle set is specific without

The Five Phases of Design Thinking

Based on the four principles above, the process of Design Thinking can be equated to five steps or “phases” as per the aforementioned Hasso-Plattner-Institute of Design at Stanford.

  Phase 1: Empathize

Empathy is the critical starting point for Design Thinking. As a problem solver, you have to understand the needs of your users.

What do they want? What do they need? What are they trying to solve for themselves?

Set your own personal assumptions aside and collect data about your users on an emotional level. Suspend your own view of the world around you and see it through your user’s eyes.

Trying to replicate their emotional journey, do you understand where their frustrations lie?

The ultimate goal is to better understand your user’s motivations and that isn’t always obvious. It requires an extreme effort to observe your users with a blank mindset and a genuine curiosity to understand “why.”

  Phase 2: Define the Problem

What you may have had in mind as “the problem” could have changed entirely after the Empathize phase.

In the Emphasize phase, we analyzed everything we observed and discovered into smaller components: what, why, and how.

In the define stage, we bring those smaller components back together to synthesize our findings to create a highly detailed overall picture.

This overall picture is your ultimate design challenge and the first step to creating a well-defined problem statement.

Problem statements (we’ll focus more on these later in the article, they are extremely important!) Frame the problem or need in a way that is actionable for designers.

  Phase 3: Ideate

This is where all that elusive, creative genius happens.

In a strict, judgement-free zone, problem solvers will identify as many new angles and ideas for a solution as they can muster.

Sometimes the right call might be brainstorming, or mind mapping, or sketching, the possibilities are limitless. Ideating is different for every designer and every organization.

But what’s the same is that at the end of this session, you should have your ideas narrowed down to a handful you can move forward with.

  Phase 4: Prototype

This phase is all about tangibility.

You’ll want to experiment with how to best implement the solutions found in the previous stages and actually create a tangible product that you can test.

We call this a prototype. It allows designers to showcase their work through an interactive and engaging product resulting in a much better understanding of the solution for everyone involved.

How far you take your prototype is up to you, but to get the most value out of these phases, it may be best to have the prototype be usable and not just conceptual.

Here is an example from proto.io. As a potential user, you can click around inside of the mobile device to see how the site would potentially function on mobile.

This step can actually be comprised of many steps. Just because you’ve prototyped an idea doesn’t mean it stands as is. Continue to experiment and challenge your solution.

You may quickly find that some ideas are best left in this stage, while others merit enough of a refined solution to move on to Phase 5.

  Phase 5: Test

After finally landing on a few prototypes that you feel are indicative of the best solution possible, send it out into the wild!

You’ll want to test your prototypes to see if they hold up to all of your assumptions.

Testing can be a tricky phase. yYou’ll want to make sure your test is planned, your participants have been properly vetted as the best subjects for testing, and then you’ll want to have a plan in place for how to analyze your data and inform next steps.

Often you’ll find that this phase takes you back to one of the previous phases. That isn’t a defeat! It’s simply narrowing down the problem and potential solutions.

If your tests are successful, congratulations! You’ve solved for the user in the most effective way possible. You’ll likely move on to finalizing the product and launching it in the “real world.”

Even if you make it to a successful launch, however, keep your head in this phase. Design can always be improved upon, and don’t forget you’ll need to change your solution based on social circumstances.

Always be testing and always be trying to find the next solution.

  It’s a Non-Linear Process

While there may appear to be a very linear sequence to these phases, you can often find yourself looping back and around these phases. With every new discovery, you may need to challenge phases you already thought were set in stone.

The only rule is to keep a user-first mentality.

Why Does This Matter?

I know, we’ve listed a lot of fancy terms and methodologies, and all of that is great and maybe some of it is even clicking. But honestly, why does this matter so much?

Your website exists solely for your users. Let that sink in.

Your website isn’t your crowning glory. It’s not there for your sales team, it’s not there for your CEO, and it certainly isn’t there for your marketing team.

Your website must solve your users’ problems.

When a user lands on your website, they are there to help alleviate a very specific pain point. Is your content, design, and overall UX focused on helping your users?

If it isn’t, take a step back.

Think about all of the principles and phases we’ve discussed in this article.

You can’t start trying to solve for you user until you have a complete understanding of your user’s behavior, their desires, and their needs. You have to define this as the problem you are trying to solve.

Otherwise, you are never going to design a solution that alleviates their pain points.

If you approach your next website redesign as simply a task, telling your designer, “you’re the expert, go make it fabulous” you aren’t only doing your business a disservice by ignoring your users specific pain points, but you’ve taken the stance that your potential customers aren’t worth a tailored solution.

We designers are visual problem solvers. Not just task takers who will make things look and work the way you want them to.

If you don’t allow your designer to help identify and solve a problem for your user’s, you’re wasting their potential as critical thinkers. More importantly you’re wasting your design spend on a product that will not achieve your goals.

Would you do that for a marketing plan? For PPC activity? For a social campaign?

Absolutely not.

Stop talking to your designer as “one of those creatives” who just knows Photoshop well. Start involving them in discussions about your users.

Ask them to explain how they arrived at certain solutions and work together to creative problem statements moving into creative redesigns.

Take these principles back to your co-workers and brainstorm ways to implement them into new or existing processes.

Caring deeply for and about your users will always create the best possible product.

Don’t design without understanding your problem statement. Seriously, don’t.

from Web Developers World https://www.impactbnd.com/blog/why-you-need-to-know-what-problem-youre-solving-for-every-single-design-project