#I wanted to do a picture response but I lack the motivation do do so

[deathbyathousandspiders]

Hi elle! I was wondering if you could do some angst in where reader is tony's daughter but shes the forgotten one and tony shows a lot of affection to peter and one day she just loses it. Its ok if you don't want to.

Stay safe and drink water!

i’ve never felt so motivated to write something–

content warnings (18+) — immense swearing, mentions of insecurity and negative outlook, yelling, author possibly projecting?, maybe too many italicized words/phrases.

✨masterlist✨.

3.5k.

You knew your dad loved you. He had to. He said it to you a million times before, and made it a point to remind you of it once a day. However, there were moments nowadays where you began to question it. You didn’t really question whether he loved you or not, but rather, whether he loved Peter Parker more than you.

Tony had referred to Peter as the son he’d never had. He’d taken Peter on retreats and to expos when he hadn’t taken you out on a trip since you were nine years old. He’d bought things for Peter, and fixed things for Peter, and every meme or video or cat picture you found on the internet to show to your father would automatically get the response: “send that to me, i want to show it to Peter.”

Peter this and Peter that. It sent you into a spiral of insecurity that you’d never known existed. You truly felt like Tony was trying to tell you something subliminally. You tried to drown yourself in coursework, go to engineering camps, and help out with the Avengers just to try and gain a better understanding of their bond. Of what you lacked. Nothing seemed to help. It jabbed at your feelings like a knife to the back, presumably left by Peter Parker himself.

And the worst part? You’d never even met the guy. You’d never been introduced to Peter Parker, despite how many times Tony mentioned the fact that he’d “love for you two to meet,” and “you two would get along great.” Yeah, sure. And he’s probably some gross ass dude with an untamed beard in his mid–twenties that your father took pity on. So much pity, in fact, that he’d invited Peter to stay over for the weekend in your penthouse apartment.

Fantastic.

It was such a sudden proposition, and a last second invite, but it happened. And Tony insisted, despite every protest you attempted to give, that you’d both greet him in the lobby.

So when you were face to face with a surprisingly attractive boy your age who had the deepest brown eyes you’d ever seen and barely packed a duffel bag, you were thrown off your rocker. You hardly had the composure to speak. Thus, your father did for you, smiling wider than you’d ever seen him smile before.

He was barely showing teeth, but you hadn’t seen your father this excited about something in a while. “Kid, this is my daughter, Y/N.” He stated proudly, grasping Peter’s shoulder as he started introductions. “And sweetheart,” Tony addressed you, turning his full focus to you as he gave Peter’s introduction. “This is Peter Parker.”

There was something about him that caused for you to detest him. It wasn’t seen on his clothes, or in his eyes. It wasn’t dangling in the tension between you, or whispered through his silent stares, but it was there. Perhaps, it came from the depths of your subconscious, and the land of your imagination. You shoved that proposition deeper into your subconscious, too.

Because you were certain that you had a hatred for Peter Parker, and his little staycation with the Stark’s would prove it.

The first night was fine. Your dad didn’t make you do any activities together, thank God, but he did surprise you with the news that he had to leave the next morning for a last second Avengers emergency. He didn’t know when he’d be back, but Tony assigned you and Peter with the task of rewiring a circuit board in his lab before he returned.

Being the daughter of Tony Stark, you’d taken the initiative to finish the project yourself. It was your house, anyways. It was a request that your father had made to you, so you intended to do it. You just hated the fact that Peter persisted in being with you in the room while you finished it. You hated the silence he left in the room, and the way he kept checking over your shoulder. God, you just hated him. You were sure of it.

You could feel his presence watching over your hands as they worked. You could feel the weight of his judgment, his breath catching in hesitation. You could smell the fumes of his cologne, and the aroma of his hair products. It was infuriating. It was pressuring. It felt mocking, taunting.

He stepped closer, hands reaching over to where yours were tinkering, yet they didn’t dare to touch your project. “A–actually, you should move the circuit focus closer to the–”

The audacity he had to question you. The nerve he struck with his comment, it filled you with rage.

Wrench and wire were thrown to the table, clanking and clamoring as they caved to gravity’s pull. Their sound was the only thing keeping you and Peter from shared silence. The shared silence of your anger. You turned your head to look at him, hoping that you weren’t physically exhaling flames like you imagined you were.

“Can you just.. not?” The question almost came out as a laugh. You nearly laughed, in disbelief that Peter Parker thought he had any say in how you built a robotic contraption. “Can you just fucking not?”

Walls had been building up inside you, livid and rageful feelings clouding your judgment as you glared at him. You couldn’t see just how shocked he was, thrown off at your irritation. You couldn’t see how puzzled he was, or panicked that he’d done something to upset you so much. You just stared into the eyes of what felt like your replacement. You felt empty, worthless, as your figure reflected back at you through the glistening of his eyes.

“Can I not what? Did I– Did I upset you?” Just the sound of his voice crawled beneath your skin. It felt worse than the sleek of humidity, or nails on a chalkboard. It sounded teasing, coy.

It was the final straw.

Nails dug into your palm as your hands formed fists. One fist pressed to your forehead, almost speaking as a warning to tell you to keep composure, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t fucking stand it anymore. “Can you stop being so fucking perfect all the time?” The words slipped out before you could stop them.

There were several things that you’d been wanting to say to Peter Parker. You’d wanted to tell him off for a long time, but you’d never gotten the chance. Now, you’d given yourself the opportunity to let the floodgates open and your tongue run wild.

“You’re always making shit competitive and iT’S NOT OKAY. It’s not my fault that my own father loves yOU MORE THAN ME! Doesn’t mean you have to fucking rub it in my face every gODDAMN FUCKING HOUR!!” God, this felt good. “You can just do my job for me!! Fucking move into my rOOM at this point, Tony won’t know the difference!!” You scoffed, “In fact, he’d probably be tHRILLED that you FINALLY REPLACED ME!!”

Peter Parker blinked a few times at you. His mouth hung agape, too scared to say anything and interrupt what looked like things you had been needing to say. The look infuriated you.

“Build the circuit board by your goddamn fucking self and leave me the fuck alone!!” And as you made the final statement, you turned to make your leave. The subtle breeze caught your face, and you felt the air hit your cheeks cold; you hadn’t noticed that you’d started crying.

You also hadn’t noticed the fact that your dad entered the room. You froze dead in your tracks at the sight of him, tears brimming your eyes again when you saw how upset he looked.

Shit.

It wasn’t your intention for him to hear all of that, but you couldn’t take back the truth once it’d gotten out. You took a staggered breath, choking back a sob as you rushed out. You didn’t know which hurt more: to hear your father’s footsteps tread further from you, or to hear him ask Peter about what was happening rather than you directly.

Either way, it was an added punch right to the gut.

It felt like ten minutes of sobbing in your room went by before a knock was placed on your door. You were about to answer, but you weren’t given the chance; your father opened the door as soon as he’d placed the knock, a solemn look coating his face as he looked at you from the doorframe. It was a solemn look that resembled disappointment.

He was disappointed in you.

Your dad was disappointed that you’d blown a fuse in front of your house guest. Disappointed that you’d ruined your chance at a good first impression. Disappointed that you’d shown such weakness. He was disappointed that you didn’t meet his expectations. He was disappointed in you for not making his honorary son feel more welcomed. Your father was disappointed in you for fucking it all up. You could tell.

Tony took careful steps towards your bed, sitting next to you as you stifled your sobs down a bit. “Do.. You want to talk about what happened back there?” His tone was softer than you’d anticipated for someone who was disappointed in you. It almost sounded apologetic, sympathetic; you were certain that your mind was reaching for a false reality.

A sniffle caught your breath as you looked at him, fresh tears framing your face. “How much of that did you hear?” You were almost too scared to ask, but you needed to know. You had to know which bit of air to clear first.

“All of it.” Tony started, “From the part where you asked Peter not to be so fucking perfect all the time..” His tone got a little sharper, almost witty. It sounded like he was trying to make humor of your meltdown. As though he were trying to find a way to cheer you up, or tell you to grow up and get over yourself. You couldn’t tell.

You averted eye contact for a moment, trying not to blow up again. Luckily, most of the anger in your system was boiling down to melancholia. Your tears ran rivers down your face as you tried to find the words to say. “I just don’t understand..” You started, keeping your voice from breaking.

Every speck of humor fled from his face at how upset you were getting. Tony’s brows pressed together, graveness and concern bleeding through his tone of voice. “Don’t understand what, honey?” The gentleness of his tone reminded you of when he’d comfort you in childhood. It took you back to when he’d snapped at you and wanted to apologize, or when you’d scraped your knee and he rushed to patch you up. It started to ease the narrative in your head that Tony was angry with you for your little tantrum.

“I, uh.. I don’t—” A shaky breath cut you off. You weren’t sure how to communicate this feeling lightly. It’d been bottled up and growing inside you for a couple months now. You knew you’d have to tell him at some point, you just despised how raw it was. It was pure vulnerability. “I don’t understand what I did to not be good enough–” You couldn’t even get through the sentence before your lip quivered.

That was when Tony looked at you like the entire world shattered. His entire world shattered. The disappointment flooded his expression once again, but it hit you that it was never directed at you — Tony was disappointed in himself. His eyes held the weight of failing as a father, of making you feel this rejected. He failed by making you feel rejected in the first place. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a suffocating hug; you weren’t sure if he’d ever actually be able to let go of it, yet it was the kind of hug you didn’t want to part from. A hug that shielded you from the entire world.

His lips pressed to your temple, along with a few stray tears he couldn’t catch beforehand. It was rare to catch your father tearful, yet you seemed to lower that guard when you started the conversation. He held you close, letting you cry out the feelings you’d locked away for so long.

“Y/N, you’re more than enough..” He lulled, voice breaking ever so slightly, “It’s my fault you ever felt like you weren’t..” His words were everything you’d hoped to hear. You’d began to believe the possibility that actually hearing them wasn’t actuality. This insecurity had driven you beyond wild, to the point where you believed that your father’s intentions were pinned against you.

They never were.

Tony held you in his arms for the next hour, letting you talk out your growing anxiety. You talked about everything from your fomo towards their retreats and trips, to how thrown off you were that Peter was your age.

“I actually think you two would make a cute couple.” Tony started, laughing at how quick you were to throw a punch at his bicep. The melancholy had worn off both of you, and the room started to fill with laughter. “I’m serious!” Tony threw his arms up to mock defeat before changing the topic a little. “But really, I think he wants to apologize to you for what happened.”

Your face drew a blank, mixing shock and confusion as you blinked at your father a few times. “Parker wants to apologize to me? For my meltdown?”

A shrug caught in your father’s posture. “You two are more similar than you think, hon.” His tone was light and sincere as he chuckled, quietly, “You both put the weight of other people’s mistakes on your shoulders.” His words draped a blanket of guilt over your body. Your own words from said meltdown began to replay through your brain like a broken record; the blame you’d thrown at Peter was wrongfully served.

You knew you needed to apologize.

After rebuilding trust with your father, and mentally rehearsing how to apologize to Peter, you made your way across the apartment to the guest room.

The door was already open, and gave you the perfect view of Peter seated on the edge of the bed. He was reading, fidgeting fingers at the edge of his pages, and chocolate curls shadowing his focused expression.

Now that you’d been able to release the steam of your self–consciousness, you realized that hatred wasn’t the actual feeling you had towards Peter; it was envy. And once you had talked things out with your father, the clouds of your judgment cleared from your vision and you could finally see Peter Parker for who he really was: a boy. A boy your age who needed a place to crash for the weekend.

You felt guilty for interrupting his reading, but at this point, the feeling was a tiny speck to add to your growing pile of culpability. The knock was gentle, and immediately pulled his eyes to meet yours.

“Mind if I come in for a minute?” You had to croak the words out, but still managed to keep a softness to your tone. You didn’t want to yell at him again, or come across like you were about to.

The look he gave you wasn’t one you weren’t expecting; he eyed you like he’d committed an unforgivable crime, or like you’d break if he didn’t hold you together. It gave you reassurance that this apology definitely needed to come out sooner than later.

Peter book–marked his place without looking, keeping his stare fixed on you while he nodded. “Please,” He gestured to the foot of the bed beside him, “Sit. I– uh, I was planning to find you and see if you were alright, but I didn’t want to interrupt your space.”

As you sat down beside him, a smile touched your lips at how thoughtful he was. “I appreciate that, but I–I owe you an apology, Peter..” You never broke your eye contact, but the look in your eyes grew more urgent, pleading. “I am so sorry for speaking to you that way, and–”

You cut yourself off at the sight of Peter waving his hands in dismissal. He mirrored the look in your eyes, “No, Y/N, I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way. I don’t want you to feel like I’m here to replace you.” His words held a direness that yours should have. Your dad was right, Peter really was putting the gravity of this into his hands.

To stop his spiral, you touched his arm for a minute, “Peter, that wasn’t your fault. It was mine for assuming and unloading all of that shit onto you. And I’m sorry for that.”

His eyes alone begged you to let him win the argument. “I still could have–”

You cut him off, “Peter, it’s not your fault.” You tried to emphasize your point, noticing the way he read your expression. His eyes scanned every inch of your face, searching for what looked like a sign of your uncertainty. His lips parted to contribute his side of the argument, but one look from you shut his trap pretty quickly.

Peter’s shoulder’s eased, but his eyes still glistened with ambition. He wanted you to understand his perspective a little. “Did your dad tell you how nervous I was to meet you?”

That wasn’t what you were expecting. Your eyes widened a little, shaking your head in response. Peter Parker? Nervous to meet you? The way your dad talked about him didn’t set him up to be that way. Of course, seeing him in front of you changed your perception a little. “No, he didn’t.” You were honest.

He wet his lips, parting them with the warmest smile you’d ever set your eyes on. The laugh that spilt from them was melodic, laced with a bit of nerves. He rubbed a muscle on the back of his neck, suddenly choking up. “Yeah, I was pretty nervous.” His brow arched slightly, complimenting his grin photogenically. “I was nervous ‘cause Mister Stark’s always talking the world to me about his amazing daughter.” Peter’s smile grew in your direction, stirring a hurricane of butterflies through your stomach.

It felt like the two of you were in the midst of a staring contest; though, instead of the intense anticipation glistening in each other’s eyes, you mutually stared at each other in security. You’d both had the immense pressure of making good impressions toward the other on your shoulders.

Peter repositioned himself on the bed, now seated facing you. His legs were crossed beneath him, his knee a hair from touching yours. “You, Y/N, are not only his greatest accomplishment, but you’re his best friend.” His words spread like butter over every worry you’d had, melting away that crippling insecurity with it. “I think he wants to be you when he grows up.”

The laughs that bubbled up your throat brought attention to the tears brimming your eyes. You blinked them away, mirroring Peter’s earnest expression. “I can tell why my dad’s always talking about you.” You told him, “And here I was thinking you’d be some old ass dude living in his mother’s basement, but here we are.”

“And here I was thinking you wouldn’t be drop–dead gorgeous.” His cheeks were ablaze with crimson, sending a pink glow of your own to your complexion. “But, here we are.”

Your smile grew, rolling your eyes playfully at him. “Alright, casanova. Save it for the love letters.” It felt nice to share laughter like this with Peter. You were glad that you gave him a second chance. Not breaking eye contact, you slid off the bed and rose to your feet. “I’ll let you get back to your reading”

Peter watched you get up to go, looking a little disappointed. You were almost surprised, but likewise, both you and Peter hid the honesty of your feelings behind the curtains of a smile.

“You don’t have to. You could stay if you want.” He started, but a look flashed behind his eyes that was rather telling; he seemed to panic over his eagerness for your company. “Unless you don’t want to–”

Biting the inside of your cheek hurt, but it was the only way to hide how wide your smile grew. “I’d love to, but I need to finish that circuit board.” And thus, the idea struck you. “You doing anything later though?”

His brows pressed together in a curious way. “Not really. You planning something?”

“Yeah. My dad and I usually have movie nights tonight.” You took paces backwards towards the door, but stalled from the moment you’d have to part ways. “You should join us! It’s my turn to pick.”

The sight of his dimples made you realize just how much you’d grown fond of his smile. It was already getting difficult to leave his presence; you knew if you didn’t leave now, you probably never would.

“Well, then you better pick a good one, just for me.” He challenged. You’d make it your goal to satisfy his request.

If even possible, it felt like your grin grew. “I plan to.”

And that said, the three of you met in the home–theater and watched Jurassic Park together. You had Tony on your left geeking out over the CGI technology from the 80s, and Peter on his left geeking out about how accurate the movie was from the book. It made your film decision that much better. It also was the best movie night you’d had in a long while.

Perhaps your dad was right: you and Peter Parker really would get along great.

[indecisivekitty]

The Anxiety of Proposals

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x reader

wc: 607

genre: fluff

warnings: uh none unless ur allergic to fluff ig

“Mate, you alright?” Gaz asked with furrowed brows. He’s noticed Soap staring at the wall for more than five minutes while fidgeting with his dog tags. “You’ve spaced out like what? 3 times now?”

Soap blinked and turned to Gaz after realizing someone was speaking to him. “Aye, just thinking ‘bout somethin’.”

Gaz tilted his head slightly with mild curiosity, then sat down at the table where Soap was sitting. “Care to share?”

The Scot bit his lip anxiously before letting out a breath. “Thinkin’ of proposin’ today once I get back home to me lass.”

Gaz smiled and leaned over to pat Soap on the shoulder. “Ay, good on you, yeah?” Soap let out a small laugh and rubbed his neck with a small nod in response. Arms folded and comfortably leaning back in his seat, Gaz asked, “Nervous?”

“Aye.” Letting out a breath, Soap ran his fingers through his hair. “Can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout it. Am excited though—can’t tell ye how long I’ve been wantin’ to wed ma bonnie lass. Want a bairn and have a pretty little family too.”

Soap pictures you and him, who knows many years in the future, married and with kids. Aye, he thought, the perfect dream. Feeling the other man’s gaze still on him, Soap looks over to see Garrick giving him an earnest smile before nodding at him.

“Let us know how it goes, yeah?”

MacTavish felt his eyes crinkle, along with a smile forming eagerly on his lips. “‘Course I will.”

Walking up to the front door of the flat you shared, Soap cursed as he fumbled with his keys. The nerves were already getting to him as he counted down the seconds he had left until he was back in your presence, something he constantly found himself doing.

“Bonnie?” he called out, dropping his bag on the floor and attempting to quickly take off his shoes, throwing a glance around the room to find your whereabouts. Frowning, he walked into the room you shared, wondering where you were from the lack of a response. “Lass-?”

“In here!”

Following the sound of your voice in the closet, he blinks when he sees you sitting on the floor with piles of clothes.

Beaming at the sight of your boyfriend, you smiled. “Hi, Johnny. How was work?”

Still confused, he utters, “Was fine, bon.”  You hummed contently with his answer before looking at a box of old trinkets you owned. “Now, what exactly are ye doin’ on the floor with all yer clothes everywhere?”

“Well, I thought it would be nice to clean out some of my clothes, and then I saw an old sweater I forgot and decided to try it on, but then I saw an old shoe box of letters-”

“Love-”

“-and decided to read all of them—because hello?? I forgot I had them, so why not go down memory lane? Then I found-”

“Okay, okay, lass.” Kneeling to your level, he studied your face and reached out to caress your cheek. “Got distracted, aye?”

Huffing, you let out a small, "Yes."

Johnny couldn’t help but smile at you, his heart beating wildly at how beautiful you looked—even on the ground with all your clothes thrown about. How could he ever be nervous about proposing to you? He licked his lips. “Marry me, lass?”

“Wai-”

Smiling wider, he brought his hand down to rub your mouth gently. Softly, he whispered, “Marry me?”

His bright blue eyes stared into yours. His gaze was nothing but soft and loving, feeling just like home. Your eyes softened as you memorized how he looked at this moment.

“Of course, Johnny.”

a/n: sorry for lack of writings LOL busy trying to have a productive year while also trying to actually have the motivation to write

[stuckinapril]

don’t know if you’ve already shared (or if you wouldn’t like to) but i’d love to hear about your resolutions and goals for this year!

Hi so sorry for how late this is!! I have quite a few!

Ins —

Being more decisive. Trusting myself w calling the shots. Just making a decision and sticking w it.

Financial literacy

More reading. Just more.

Attacking things I’m uncomfortable with instead of shying away from them.

More silence. I don’t need to have my earphones in all the time

More time w family!!! I need to put in as much effort to connect w them as I do w my friends

Green tea every night

More pictures. I have a serious problem of just not being incentivized to take any

More scientific literature for fun!!

Piggybacking off that point—making it instinctive to apply things I study to real life situations. This is a niche one but it just helps me process stuff faster and I just think it’s a super dope learning technique

Pushing myself harder. It’s just not my preference to be mediocre.

Nourishing myself w my own affirmations. Cutting out my need for other people’s validation

Educational documentaries

Making more of an effort to connect w my Arab heritage

Being my natural self. It’s okay if I’m not bubbly all the time. Sometimes I just want to chill

Whole foods

Less phone time (I say this every year but like I want 2024 to be the year I’m truly disconnected/using my phone in a healthy way)

Body oils!

More tennis dates w friends!

10k steps a day

Sticking religiously to my hour by hour schedule

Keeping promises to myself as ardently as I keep promises to others

Being more bold w fashion!!

Hitting the gym 5 days a week

Reading more literature in Arabic and French

Learning how to cook. I cannot live off Siggi’s for the rest of my life lol

Exploring more music genres

Learning the piano!!

No longer feeling guilty for withholding information. Privacy is not a bad thing.

Getting more and more independent!!

Becoming the friend I want to be. Other people need to show up as well, but I can’t hold people up to standards I myself can’t reach.

Outs —

Centralizing luxury brands. Thinking that price equates to quality. The fact of the matter is quality equates to quality. Price is irrelevant.

Relying on snap judgment responses to situations. I need to learn to wait at least 15 minutes. I can be impulsive asf

Jumpiness. Nervous energy. I just want to be more calm and controlled in how I carry myself. I want to exude self-assuredness

Checking my phone first thing in the morning!!

Drinking less than 3 liters of water a day

Being available all the fucking time. If someone has an issue w me for being busy, maybe they’re not someone I want in my life in the first place.

Being too forgiving. Not immediately allowing someone back into my life doesn’t make me a bitch. Immediately running to fix things w someone doesn’t make me selfless. Being the bigger person in situations where I was nowhere near in the wrong doesn’t make me mature. It’s just symptomatic of a lack of boundaries.

Consuming dumb shit in the name of “keeping up w pop culture.” I don’t care about celebrity controversy #7282727. I don’t care about celebrity selfie #827226. It doesn’t elevate my life in any way. I legit just don’t care. And this goes for real life gossip w friends too

Taking too long to text back!! A day is fine, but sometimes I take longer and I think that’s a shitty trait to have. I can absolutely afford to respond to people faster.

Too much chocolate!! I’m a sweet tooth but I must preserve my skin/overall health

Motivation over discipline. I need to be attuned to discipline always.

Control freak antics. I can’t control people. It’s not my responsibility. They’ll act how they act. All I can do is control my reaction to it

Rumination/unhealthy venting. When I’m done w something, I’m done w something.

Overcompensating for other people’s shortcomings. It’s not my responsibility to coddle others. It’s okay if something is too much for me.

Having no boundaries w others. People aren’t entitled to private information. It doesn’t make me deceptive to withhold things—it just makes me selective. People need to earn private details about me.

Curating things I like. I simply like what I like. It’s not that deep.

[penguwastaken]

Headmaster Naegi makes perfect sense (+ DR3 Makoto Analysis)

There's a lot of misunderstandings about the Danganronpa series, and if I had to pick an entry that's "the most misunderstood," I would easily say it's Danganronpa 3.

I went into the anime completely blind and I loved it, only to be shocked by the amount of hate it gets, most of which I think is undeserved. I've written plenty of posts about the anime so far clearing up a lot of misconceptions with it, but there's one I really wanted to talk about. That would of course be the ending.

The amount of backlash I've seen towards Makoto becoming the headmaster of Hope's Peak and rebuilding it was always so strange to me, because to me I couldn't think of a more perfect conclusion to his character. So I wanted to write about it and explain why I feel like this is a perfectly in character and satisfying conclusion.

What went wrong with Hope's Peak?

The usual reason give for why this ending is bad is something along the lines of "Hope's Peak is evil, why would you bring it back?"

This is a fair assessment, at least on the surface level. Starting with Danganronpa Zero and Danganronpa 2, Hope's Peak began to be portrayed in a more negative light by doing things like human experimentation, practically extorting kids by weaponizing their dreams, or covering up murders. However, this take lacks any nuance.

In the original Danganronpa, Hope's Peak is painted in a pretty positive light. The class is seen having fun in all of their pictures, enjoying themselves. When the tragedy hits, Jin, the current headmaster, takes responsibility and helps protect the students.

This paints a very different picture of Hope's Peak than what we'd see later. So what happened? What changed?

If you look back at those things I mentioned, the human experimentation, extorting kids, and covering up murders, all of that ties back to the Steering Committee.

"Not only that, it was the intent of the new Steering Committee members as well to strictlyconceal the incident and keep it under wraps." -Danganronpa Zero

Once Hope's Peak grew in size and the Steering Committee began to gain more power, more bad things started to happen. They introduced the Reserve Course to gather more funds for the experiments they just started doing and there was now an effort was to conceal their crimes.

Danganronpa 3 expanded on this by making it pretty clear that the people running Hope's Peak and the Steering Committee don't always see eye to eye. Jin gets pretty angry when he discovers the Steering Committee plans to sweep the most recent incident under the rug.

(Forgive the awful image quality LOL)

Hope's Peak wasn't always like this, it became this. This is a point that's even pretty consistently brought up in Danganronpa 3, with the main motivation of the Class 74 trio being to fix it.

There was a time when it nurtured true hope. People made friends and memories in Hope's Peak, to act like it was some pure evil entity kind of misses the point. In the end, what tainted Hope's Peak was their flawed view of Hope seeping into it and corrupting it until it became unrecognizable.

Kyosuke wanted to fix Hope's Peak, but eventually his view of Hope became warped as well. Kyosuke would never get to accomplish his dreams of fixing the school and becoming the headmaster, instead choosing to carry the burden of his crimes and pass down his dreams to someone else, someone whose views of Hope were strong and untainted...

Why Makoto?

I can't think of a better person to carry on Kyosuke's wishes than the Ultimate Hope himself. I would argue Makoto rebuilding Hope's Peak couldn't be any more in character.

Right off of the bat, Makoto is known to understand Hope better than anyone else. He's given the title of the Ultimate Hope, a title so fitting that even those at the Future Foundation acknowledge it. The entire series shows that Makoto understands "true hope" better than anyone else.

Makoto also has a history of wanting to help those he sees the good in. In Danganronpa IF, he sees good in Mukuro despite the horrible things she's done because he knew about the good in her. In Danganronpa 2, Makoto attempts to rehabilitate the Remnants of Despair because he knew they weren't always that way.

The obvious natural next step would be for Makoto to fix Hope's Peak, a school that used to embody his ideals, a school that brought him many memories and helped him meet many great people. Of course lots of bad came from Hope's Peak, but bad came from Mukuro and the Remnants of Despair, but that didn't stop Makoto from trying with them.

Makoto running Hope's Peak isn't even out of character. In Danganronpa 2, Makoto is behind the School Trip inside of the Neo World Program, already taking on a "teacher-like" role. Makoto's vision of the school trip is that they spend their time getting closer to each other and building true hope, which is exactly what Hope's Peak should be.

Heck, if I wanted to go even earlier than that, in the original Danganronpa during Kiyotaka's free time events, he comments on about how he "doesn't totally hate" being called a professor. And considering how the writers played the games before writing the anime to catch themselves up, I wouldn't even be surprised if this was intentional.

While not a branch head, Makoto even gets a job at Future Foundation in the branch of public relations. Makoto has pretty much every single qualification to be the headmaster of Hope's Peak and it's not something that comes out of nowhere.

Makoto's arc

While I'm at it, I should also go into Makoto's arc. At the start of the anime, Makoto acts confident. Makoto rejects Monokuma's game, not wanting to give in again and believing that nobody will kill each other this time.

However, as more people begin to die, Makoto's resolve begins to shake. He's reminded how his words were unable to save his classmates, and now he's unable to save the Future Foundation. He's the Ultimate Hope, so why can't he do it? Are his words truly hollow? Are they just worthless platitudes?

But over the course of the anime, Makoto is reminded that his words did have power. He's changed the lives of many and his hope is real. When he sees his friends fighting to protect him, or Komaru eagerly awaiting for him to rescue her, he begins to realize that his hope truly did inspire those around him

Kyoko's sacrifice and her trust in him to carry her hope to the end and end the killing game is the final push he needed. All doubts he had were gone, even despite the constant torment they faced, Makoto had all the proof he needed to know that his hope was true and he gained the confidence to finally face Kyosuke.

I've seen people say that Makoto's conflict with Kyosuke is never properly resolved or that Makoto's point of view on hope is never proven right, but this here is that proof. By carrying the hope people have placed in him, the hope created by his "platitudes," he was able to prove to Kyosuke that his hope was the true hope in the end.

Why does this matter?

Ultimately, Makoto's understanding of hope is what makes him worthy of continuing Hope's Peak. Makoto's values are what Hope's Peak needed, and with a his grasp on true hope, only Makoto could save Hope's Peak. This is what the entire series was building up to.

From a person who saved people with words to finding the good in otherwise horrible people, Makoto carrying the burden of hope and attempting to restore Hope's Peak's image is the perfect conclusion for his character.

Some may say "what if things go wrong in the future," and while there's that possibility, there's always going to be that possibility. There was a chance him trying to save Mukuro would fail, there was a chance him trying to save Class 77 would fail, but in the end he had hope and kept going anyways.

The reason I never understood why people didn't like this ending is because I always felt that this was the most natural continuation of his arc. Why wouldn't Makoto try to restore the symbol of hope, a former titan that brought many people together and once motivated the world? As headmaster, Makoto would be in the perfect position to continue to help the world and spread hope to future generations, even as a "normal" person.

So that's why Headmaster Naegi makes sense.

[suikung]

hello can you plz do a Yandere nagato pain and konan x female reader similar to Yahiko plz and when Naruto and kakashi and Sakura and the female reader ends up fighting the akatsuki they met before battling them pain or nagato and konan look at the reader and they saw Yahiko in the female reader and they got flashbacks from yahiko’s death and they look at her and they widen their eyes and kidnap her but all of the akatsuki loses except for konan and nagato or pain and they kidnap her and take her in a rain village and can you do NSFW

Yan! Nagato & Konan

TW. non-con

For this one I couldn’t see Nagato participating in the NSFW. He sees you more as his best friend Yahiko and he only feels the need to protect you. However Yahiko was Konan’s love so she’s the only one would be included in the NSFW. Im sorry if you wanted to see it the other way Anon.

There you were. There he was, Yahiko. Somehow in the middle of this battle he had appeared right in front of them,alive. It was unlike his corpse that they had kept to control. The dead Yahiko had lost the sparkle in his eyes, his will, he was dead. The only difference now was he was alive and his physical appearance. His hair was different, he looked smaller, but most importantly of all he was a girl. That didn’t matter. The look in your, his eyes was that same optimism. The way you constantly checked up on your comrades during the battle, the way you took priority of getting hurt if it meant protecting your them. It was all Yahiko, everything he had done on that day, when he gave his life to save his friends. But now they had the chance to make it right. They would take you back, and bring you back home.

It was now silent, everyone was exhausted. Sakura had taken over healing Naruto, while you and Kakashi stayed in the front lines. The two Akatsuki members you had been fighting had retreated out of no where. However you got chills in your spine remembering how the woman stared you down, her partner, the leader of the Akatsuki no better. “They’re gone” you spoke lowly to Kakashi-sensei, he only nodded in response to you. He was on the verge of collapse having exhausted his sharingan. But this is what they wanted, the motive of the fight had been changed the minute they had seen you. Everyone’s heart was ready to burst from their chest, reactions times slowed and it was time. Paper began to surround your body, a silent capture. The lack of oxygen within the enclosure in due time caused you to become unconscious.

Eyes fluttering open as if you had just awoken from a nap, you could have mistakes it for one due to waking up in such a comfortable bed, covered by a fluffy duvet. However, your bed was as hard as ever, and you simply didn’t make enough to own a duvet. Sitting up to properly scan the surroundings, only to discover you were alone, rain hitting heavily on the roof of wherever you are. It was gloomy, a large window in the room allowed some light to come in. What you could see clearing around you were pictures, pictures of the same orange haired man, identical to the one you had fought. Could it have been the same man? It was impossible, the one in the photos didn’t possess the rinnegan. However what caught your attention were the two people next to him. The paper jutsu woman you had fought, and a red haired boy. Wherever you were, it was evident that you had been taken hostage by the Akatsuki. Perhaps to lure out Naruto?

The door opened behind you, quickly you put down the photo you had been examining. Kunai flying out your hand towards the person entering, “Tell me where I am.” An extra kunai still in your hand, pointed straight at her. “I brought you something to eat. I mean no harm.” Her voice was soft, no hint of malice behind it. Slowly she made her way towards you, placing a tray of food on the nightstand. Picking up the photo of the three of them, she repeatedly looked between the photo and you. “You remind us so much of him.” Your kunai lowered a bit, confusion written all over you. Who is she talking about? “What do you mean? And who’s us?” Maybe it was because she was a fellow woman. You lowered your guard just a little, but still you couldn’t help but want to hear her out.

“Yahiko, he was our best friend. Once the leader of the Akatsuki years ago but he died protecting his comrades.” It left you stunned, because well the leader of the Akatsuki was that Pain guy you fought just before this. “I don’t understand, so who is the leader of the Akatsuki now.” She was silent, hesitant even to respond to your question. “That doesn’t matter now, what matters is you’re home. This is where you belong. With us. You’re just like Yahiko, we can’t let you go again.” Her steps went forward in your direction, she sounded insane. You didn’t know this Yahiko guy, much less would you compare to him. Kunai raising once again, a warning for her to not step any closer. It didn’t make her hesitant, she continued forward only to not attack but hug you. A warm embrace, one given to a lover after having spent so much time away from them. Suffocating it was. Kunai aiming straight for her back, with one swift movement it rushed to her only to be stopped by her paper tightly wrapping around your hand. The attack never faltering her, only focused on continuing to tightly embrace you.

After a few seconds, she had let go, a smile decorated her face. No words were exchanged after, the air feeling tense on your part. What do you even say in these situations? “I made a promise I would be the pillar to Yahiko and Nagato’s will. I know you’re somehow continuing this. You hold a piece of him in you.” She grabbed your hand, encompassing it between both of hers. “I’ll leave you now to enjoy your meal.” With that she left the room, leaving you to process everything she had told you. It left your mind pacing. Did they bring you here to simply tell you that? Not possible with how she kept repeating this was ‘your home’. So what, would they keep you here? Make you act as their deceased friend? Or maybe they’d do that but also use this as a way to lure the nine-tails. No matter what that woman had told you she was still part of the Akatsuki.

No matter what, you’d escape from here. The door was too risky, they could be on the other side, so your only point of escape was the window. The window allowed you to see tens of buildings, all practically touching the heavens. Since waking up the rain hasn’t bothered to let up, no matter what the rain is the best to wash away your scent. The window was large, large enough to fit you through it however it had no latch to open. Rolling your eyes, “what is the point of a window then.” Your only option now is to break it, and so you did. Streaming your chakra through your fingers that were pressed against the glass, having it break from the constant stream. In one crashing drop all the glass came down, rain beginning to pour into the room.

Poles and antennas stuck out from the sides of surrounding buildings, these quickly became your stepping stones to finding a way out of this place. Not only that but they allowed you to see just how high you were, the ground was barely visibly, mist from the rain making everything hard to see. However what you could make out were the lights below you, street lamps perhaps. If there is light, there is civilization. While mapping out the best possible way to get down efficiently, a hand come upon your wet shoulder. “And where do you think you’re going.” You didn’t have to turn around to figure out whose voice this was. This was the same man who had expressed his beliefs that pain would never fully be understood by everyone, that one must experience their own pain to understand another.

His hand tightened on your shoulder, fingers digging into your skin. “Are you the man your partner spoke of? The one I’m told I resemble?” You couldn’t let him know just how fast your heart was beating, any wrong move and he could kill you. Grateful he had snuck up behind you so as to not see the fearful look on your face. “No, he is now long gone. His soul rests in another place.” You were so confused, so then why did he look identical to the man in the picture and where was the other with the red hair? You knew Yahiko was the one with the orange hair, you could see the way the woman from before lovingly and longingly stared at him in the photograph. However there wasn’t any chance for you to ask a follow up question as Pain swiftly knocked you unconscious. The last thing in your memory was being picked up as your body began to let out.

This time when you woke up, your hands were bound to the bed. Rope chafed against your wrists, only worsening by every pull you tried to regain freedom. Despite having been out in the rain, your body was dry and warm. This didn’t feel like the clothes you had on before, these were much more comfortable and loose. Your body shivering at the idea that one of them had clothed you, seeing you in such a vulnerable state as when you’re unclothed. It was a while that you were left alone with your thoughts, not knowing how many hours had passed since your capture. It had surely been many, by the time that door opened again the sun had whisked itself away leaving you in a dark room. Footsteps could be made out with the opening of the door, two pairs of them by the sound of it, no need to think hard on who it could be. Moonlight poured into the room, allowing you to see the, full now. “I see you’re awake now. By the looks of your wrists it looks like it’s been a while.” Was he mocking you? You couldn’t tell his voice was so stoic. The woman made her way to your side, taking a closer looking at your wrists. “I’ll bring you an ointment later, so try not to rub against the ropes anymore. We only did it as a precaution, we can’t have you trying to leave again.” Maybe it was seeing you there tied up in front of her, but something about the situation had possessed Konan to lean down and kiss you. A soft kiss on your lips. Eyes wide, lips shut. What was wrong with this woman? It was quick but it felt as though she had poured all her emotions into it in that single second.

“Konan.” Pain’s voice was sharp, a warning to Konan to think more carefully of her actions. Nonetheless she remained sitting at your side, shortly being joined by Pain on the other. “You’ll stay here from now on. Forget about those from the Hidden Leaf. Here in the Hidden Rain is where your new life will be born. One alongside us, together we will have our peace and forget our pain.” His eyes were focused on nothing in particular, they held a far away look, a look someone would have when they are imagining. Konan’s hand came to caress your hair. “Understand that you have Yahiko’s will, you carry that ambitious look in your eyes as he once did. We will do anything to protect it, we will do anything to protect you.” Her voice was gentle, trying her best to get you to understand their side of the situation. And so there she went again, first a kiss on your forehead, then your nose, and despite moving your head side to side, she once again planted her lips on yours. This time staying longer, even if you refused to reciprocate she kept herself there.

Although it wasn’t visible in such dim lighting, her cheeks were painted a rosey color. Continuing her decent down your face, until she reached your neck. Making herself comfortable between the junction of your neck, altering between kissing and sucking, it would surely leave a bruise. But that was all her intention. Hand coming down from your hair to the valley of your chest, tracing down through your stomach, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Nonetheless her hand didn’t stop there, it continued downward landing itself right in between your legs. Your breath hitched, not only from her rough kissing but from this new found touch. Her hand began to rub small circles through your clothes, the sensation was soft perfectly in sync with her kissing. However as Konan forwarded her advances towards you, Pain had taken it as his cue to leave. Yahiko was his best friend, and he would do anything now to protect you. He knew of Konan’s affections for Yahiko before so he understood perfectly well why she was doing this to you. Because he loved Konan, and he loved Yahiko he would become your protector.

The bed spring back up on your side, he was leaving. Watching as he walked through the door, only to lock back at you. His eyes fixated on your form, seeing your discomfort from the way Konan was touching you, but he would do nothing. The three of them were reunited again, even if Nagato was not physically there. Soon enough you’d come around, after spending some time with her you’d understand.

Even as the door clicked close Konan didn’t break her focus on you. Her fingers gradually picked up pace until she hit a speed that was drawing out sounds from you. Her heart swelled with pride at everyone moan she was able to bring out from you, her only desire now in life to hear them forever. They were sickening, the feeling one gets after eating too many sweets. The way you feel sick but can’t deny yourself another bite, and another, and another. Is this what she has been living for? From that fateful day, to now she had a reason to continue, to further the Akatsuki. But this, but you, had breathed new life into her. Her lips detached from your neck, leaving behind a purple bruise her own symbol of ownership over you. She now locked onto your face, wanting to see every single reaction you had to her. Her lips were rosy and glossy, just like her cheeks. Truly in any other circumstance you would’ve admired her beauty. Her free hand coming up to palm your clothed nipple. Her thumb began to circle around it, the motions similar to her other hand. Konan knew by your reaction it was best to coordinate the speeds. In her head, she knew the tears falling out your eyes were tears of pleasure and joy.

The double sensation in your body only causes your legs to close in reaction. Each time she would use her arm to push one down, but eventually she accepted the grip around her hand, exerting more force as it became harder to move freely in between the plush of your thighs. You knew you were close, as much as you didn’t want to accept it, and she knew it too. She felt the way your thighs began to quiver, losing strength to keep themselves closed. And so she didn’t speed up, she maintained the pace that would guide you to your peak. Eyes more focused than over on your face, wanting to take it all in. It had been silent up to now, the occasional sniffling in between your repressed moans, but all you. However Konan broke the silence as you reached your climax. In between closed eyes, and white painting your vision, a soft “I love you” could be made out. Your hands pulled on the restraints as your body tensed up, pain in your wrists quickly taking you over. Eyes opening back up to feel Konan undoing the ropes, hands immediately dropping to bed. You could only sit there motionless, if you ran you’d be sure they’d find you in no time. After all one of your opponents possessed the Rinnegan, you could only hope your team could find you and save you soon.

Konan laid beside you now resting on her side, head planted on your shoulder with her hand across your chest fiddling with your hair. For once in her life she was at ease. Her sunshine in all this had just appeared while yours was fading by the minute.

[elderwisp]

The Creative Process ‧₊˚✩彡 

Because I love to be distracted

Hi! Ok, I wanted to share wif everyone my process in which I create a story post from conception to the final post. I would say I'm a very structured person when it comes to projects like these however, I've learned a lot and maybe someone could find something useful! We'll be referencing this scene. Oke, let's start!

✩ Rough Drafts

So, of course everything starts off with a vision. While I always say, write what feels authentic to you, I also know it makes things much more difficult if you don't have a solid ground to build from. I think I've scrapped this particular story about twice already and even reshot the first chunk of Tessellate so there was a better foundation. I like to start off with understanding a character before moving onto creating a plot, otherwise people start bleed into another. Greta Gerwig makes a really awesome statement about how characters come first to her before plot. OKE with that in mind, this particular scene, I wrote it well over a year ago, however there wasn't much flow in the initial draft. In fact, the two look nothing alike. This conversation was supposed to occur during France's concert, but I moved it to to this particular scene and I'm so glad. I felt like their current relationship was strong enough to have this conversation but also it allowed me to really focus in on the two. I am a huge advocate for jotting down dialogue even if things change because you can always expand on an idea. And if things don't work, scrapping is okay, but at least you gave it a shot! After that change, I didn't revisit that scene up until about a month and a half ago. I like to let things sit for a good while. In the initial draft, Taryn was reserved throughout a majority of the conversation. There was limitations in which how I wanted her to express things but things change in a year. When I looked at her as a character and how she's progressed throughout the story, the draft no longer aligned with her lack of response. And then that created the question of what the heck does one say? Because people aren't typically very graceful or eloquent when it comes to confrontation but also we're telling a story so how do I balance the two out? Since, I've followed these little blorbos for a while, knowing their characters and motives allowed me to flesh everything out. Atlas is much more cunning than he lets on and is excellent at painting a pretty picture for those around him if it means getting what he wants. Taryn on the other hand is perceptive and unwavering so being around someone like him, someone that she finds herself slowly falling for, is a complete, well, mind fuck. We can also see from this interaction that there's a hint of feeling inadequate and the lack of confidence to know that maybe he does like her. We also see that Atlas maybe isn't the most mature when it comes to developing something real so the two have plenty to work on just from this scene alone. Like Greta Gerwig says, writing is listening.

I also wanted to mention LocalScriptMan and this video all the time because it just about changed how I viewed dialogue in general. I think it's such a great tool! I've probably shared it a billion times.

✩ Blender & Posemaking

So I would like to preface this by saying, you do not need to use blender to achieve a vision. There are still scenes that I still use poses/animations from other creators! I wanted to list a few references! Rebouks, Rascgal and Simmireen have an amazing variety of poses to use! I literally use Becca's bumper packs RELIGOUSLY! However, if you need any suggestions, SurelySim's has an excellent breakdown on getting started with posemaking from tiny details, to SimRipper and using accessories! She also talks about Vyxated's Pose Helper which is a god send! For this scene I wanted to fully pose it. In my script, I italicize anything I want to pose, I'm such a sucker for the mannerisms that people have. When words fail, body language speaks. Are they fidget-y, or do I imagine them to be more composed? Taryn's stance is grounded, she doesn't move at all in the scene except for when she leaves and I think it's a great representation of her stubbornness. Whereas Atlas is watching every single move, up until he makes his incredibly bold (ridiculous!) statement. As for emotion when he made that statement, I wanted to go with shame but then I felt like his expression radiated ruthlessness. I personally enjoyed that 10x more because it represented two things for me, his character and that he felt comfortable enough to show that part of himself. When posing a scene from start to finish, it takes me about 1-3 days depending on how complex it is. I'm a huge advocate for using references! I love referencing hands, posture, how to grab a book ANYTHING! Because this was a conversation and not much action happened, it took me about a day.

✩ Taking Screenshots and Composition

I began taking photos for this scene on March 6th. I use to use this reshade preset by growfruit however, after tinkering with some settings I use like a mish-mash blorbo of a preset. Amobae and Sforz have some cool LUT's for download (I think of it like a filter? That's probably not what it is but MEH) and I love the qUINT's lightroom shader as well. Huge advocate of relight, I was today years old when I learn that you should load it at the top of your shaders order so you don't get like a weird whitecast. These spotlights though are super fun too if you don't use reshade! There are some photographers on instagram that even go over how to use lightroom and it can translate to game as well! For the most part, I try to keep screenshots pretty simple, editing-wise but there are moments when I doodle in little hairs, add in some texture and include shadows for, uh, DRAMAAA. Lately, I've been incorporating intricate fonts because idk sometimes my brain enjoys a little graphic design moment. Sometimes shooting conversation heavy scenes can get so repetitive so I like to look at film stills on pinterest or pay close attention to a film and how they present the camera work in a conversation. Rule of thirds is a great reference tool to use, I believe GShade has a shader for that. However it's okay to experiment, it's not an end all be all. I love looking at animators and how each frame is incredibly intentional, whether it's a shot from above or a really close frame. The beginning of this scene, I honestly didn't have a clue as to how I wanted to open it up since they were walking down a hall. Then I noticed the detail in the fencing and how the tiles were opposite. Using the TOOL mod, I was able to get them both in the center and it created a strong opening shot of how different these two are.

✩ Editing

My god, I love editing but also this is usually the moment where I get so freaking distracted. This process takes me a day if I am focused.... But realistically it takes three days.... That's why I try to keep things to a minimum. I do use Photoshop. I like to use this sharpening action (the other actions are awesome too!) for story posts, I crop each photo (I use a 9:5 ratio and a 16:6 ratio if I need to focus on something specific idk why i picked those numbers yo), and add in text. Dafont has a lot of different free fonts. I like to use these little guidelines if sentences needs to be centered.

For adding umph to text, I like to use two things: The warped text option when using the type tool or just going to the distort panel and using the wave option!

Also bottom right of your layers channel is an fx layer. I like to use stroke and drop shadow on all text so it doesn't get lost within a photo!

✩ Finalization and My Schedule

That story post was uploaded on March 29th. As of right now, I like to stay three weeks ahead so I have three weeks worth of story posts marinating in my queue LMAO. I always reread things like a bajillion times, sometimes I'll go back and tweak conversations if they feel a bit stiff. Having that three week buffer also gives me time to really dedicate myself to details and focus on being present with a future scene. Another perk is, it allows me to work on cleaning up the script, plotting for future arcs, and having fun with edits. When I used to upload story videos on youtube, I didn't really plan ahead and it was so chaotic for me. Sometimes I didn't have enough time to actually create a solid episode so things felt rushed because on top of that I had a schedule I committed to. This isn't necessary but structure and patterns is something my little brain needs.

I hope this maybe provided some tips for people wanting to start out or it was just a fun little thing to read! One final OP tip is to write about something that you enjoy, something that matters to you. I'm one mf that loves a fleshed out character arc, that doesn't like linear plots and for fucks sake I love a good slow burn and I think all of that reflects a lot which helps me be engaged.

[daddypriceugh]

Favourite nurse part. 2

First of all I want to apologise for the late update. I got the flu 2 weeks ago and wasn't motivated to write anything.

I'm really sorry for the wait but I made this chapter longer :) it's smut <3 I'm not good at writing it but I tried. Have fun!!!

Tw: smut

*****************************

"It won't fit Simon"

"I'll make it fit"

You may ask how you got into this situation, well let's see:

♤Flashback♤

"One shot for me and the lady" A voice said over the loud music in the pub. A voice you would recognise anywhere: it was Gho- Simon. But he didn't wear a mask this time.

It's been two week since you last saw him because he actually didn't turn up at the hospital. To your suprise.

You had kind of missed him. Especially the way his eyes would follow every move you would make. It made you nervous but also aroused. Would he look the same at you when naked?

You were ripped out of your thoughts by the shot being placed on the table in front of you.

"Didn't think I would see you here, Doc"

A small laugh escaped your red tinted lips.

"Well I love surprising people I guess" He hums in agreement.

"You were able to stay unharmed. Got my respect"

He chuckled at your words, gulping down his shot.

"Well I was forbidden to come back, wasn't I" he turned his head in your direction, eyes staring into yours. There was something calm in them but also something you couldn't decipher what it was.

A small formed on your face. "I didn't forbid it, I just don't want to see you hurt. Can't judge me for doing my job"

He opened his mouth to answer but a chair was suddenly thrown through the bar. A fight broke out.

Simon had grabed your hand in less than a second and pulled you to the exit. The fresh and cold night air hit your face.

"You wanna go to my flat?"

His random question shocked you for a moment. Did he want to continue the talk? Or maybe...

"Yeah sure" ~~~~~~~~~~~ You now sat on his couch while ge was grabbing some wine.

His flat was a bit bland. There weren't many pictures or plants, the furniture was modern yet classic. It all suited him well.

He came back with two glasses of wine and sat down next to you, putting the glasses on the table.

It was quiet.

You looked at him, only to see him already starring at you. Fuck was he hot. You could already feel yourself getting warm. Well more like your vagina.

A minute went by and none of you broke the eye contact, and you couldn't take this tension anymore. 'Fuck it' you thought and grabbed his face between your hands to smash your lips on his.

He didn't seem surprised because he instantly kissed back. The once gentle kiss became faster and more desperate. You lifted yourself on his lap to grind against him, feeling his hard erection in his jeans.

He let out a soft moan at your movement, putting his hands on your waist to help you guide.

"Do you want this?" He asked with a breathy voice. You nodded yes and pulled your shirt off.

You smirked a little at his reaction, knowing it was because of the lack of your bra.

"Dirty girl" he growled, his mouth latching onto one nipple, pulling and biting it a bit. You moaned in response, quickening your pace.

Once he let go of your breast, his hands wrapped around you to lift you up. He carried you to his bedroom, throwing you on the bed.

"Never thought I would see you like that, doc" "Shut up and fuck me already" He laughed at your response.

"Your wish be my comand"

Your pants and panties were down in a second and his fingers were feeling your wet lips. You bit back a moan at the feeling.

"So wet for me already tz tz. Don't even have to prepare you, mh?"

He slipped two fingers inside your folds and groaned. He then began to move them in a slow pace.

"Fuck your so tight, my love. So thight and wet for my fucking cock"

His fingers sped up and he added another on inside. He curled them a bit and looked at you to see your reaction. You were a moaning mess under him. Sweat dripped down your forehead and your nipples were hard. You felt your first orgasm nearing.

"C'mon baby cum for me. I can feel you clenching"

You came on comand and let out a loud moan. You never came that fast before.

He pulled off his shirt and pants to reveal his throbbing member. And damn was it big. Too big. It was long and thick, a bit curved to the right. Twp long veins went from the tips to the bottom. He looked fucking delicious.

Simon crawled on top of you and kissed you. It was gently and full of passion.

"Do you really want this? We can stop if you want" he said as he broke the kiss apart.

Your heart swelled at his worry.

"I want it. I want it with you Simon" You whispered. A smiles formed on his face.

"Then prepare yourself to get ruined"

He planted on hand on the right side of your head and the other went downwards to his dick.

He started rubbing it over your pussy, creaming himself in your juices. You moaned out in anticipation.

♤flackback ends♤

"It won't fit Simon"

"I'll make it fit"

At that he pushed his whole length into your hole. You half screamed at the intrusion, wrapping your legs around his waist, nails clawing into his back.

"You're so fuckin' tight love I can feel you trying to clench around my cock" He groaned.

You stayed in this position and he waited for you to give him the signal to continue. You did.

He put his hand on your waist and stared fucking you at a normal pace. Yet you could swear you felt every single edge and vein of his dick. It felt amazing.

After a while he decided to speed the whole thing up and started rubbing your clit. The moans that left your mouth only seemed to encourage him even more to move quicker.

But he himself wasn't quiet either. He let our small groand and huffs while pumping his dick into you. Minutes went by and you noticed his moved becoming more frantic.

"Fuck I'm close, where do you want it?"

"Inside pl-please"

You could also feel you high coming nearer ever time he ramed into you.

And there it was. Your walls clenched around him and your stomach thighend. You came with a scream which was half muffeled by his mouth capturing yours.

"Fuck sweetheart y-you made a mess" he laughs while trying to chase his own orgasm. He sped his pace up again.

"Fuck fuck fuck"

He then came with a groan and nearly collapsed on you. He pulled out and layed down besides you.

After some seconds of peace you were pulled into his arms, lips touching your hairline.

"You did so well for me. I'm proud of you, my girl"

"Weren't bad yourself, big guy" You said while smiling.

He laughed breathlessly and slowly got up. Your puzzled look at his action made him open his mouth. "I'm gonna grab a towel and clean you up okay? After that we can sleep a bit"

You nodded tiredly "Yeah sound nice" Simon bended over to give you one last kiss before leaving the room.

You breathed out in satisfaction. "Fucking hell"

[catboybiologist]

Hey, transfem who has only started to like her body about half a year ago here

As someone who takes a lot of pictures of themselves, do you have any resources/tips for angles or something that accentuates feminine features?

Also in regards to having a somewhat normal facial expression, like my eyes look so weird in every picture I take bc I don't know where to look

This response ended up WAY longer than I expected, and I think Imma add it to my pinned post- thanks for pushing me to talk about this! I don't think I'm really an expert here, but if people want to leave more advice in reblogs and comments, please do.

So when I say "I had two years of femboy experience before transferring to the related (and potentially overlapping) but separate field of trans womanhood" I'm only like... half joking. Selfie angles took a fucking wild amount of time for me to figure out, and guess what? The pictures I post are usually 1-3 in a set of about 20 that I take at any given time. I'm still unhappy with most pictures I take, you just gotta take a lot of them, and figure out for yourself.

That said, I think I have gotten a lot better over time. Behold, the first selfie I posted on reddit (warning for kinda cringe but I know y'all fuck with that):

(Damn, my thighs look good when I properly shave, gotta do that sometime)

(btw I'm 23 in this pic so feel free to simp if you so desire)

And another early one:

This was still selected from a bunch that were horrible, but you can really tell that my face is basically just covered in fabric entirely. My eyes look very dead in both. Compare that to:

^this one is still pre-transition, so don't blame the estrogen.

So what are my specific tips? Well, the classic "selfie angle" is from above. This angle certainly helps, but why? Personally I've found that its far less about angles are far more about lighting. Since most lighting is overhead, taking selfies from above means that you'll have a well lit face in those standard lighting conditions. Notice that in both the early selfies and the later one, the camera is actually positioned below my height level, and there's still a noticeable facial difference between them. The reason this is possible is good, forward lighting. Generally, you want a soft light source to be vaguely behind the camera, shining onto your face- but make sure its not too close, or too bright. This will ensure that harsh shadows don't artificially make your features look much different than they actually are.

Another thing that cannot be understated: DISTANCE between yourself and the camera, especially if you're using a phone camera. There are several reasons for this- notably, it'll help make the background be framed more pleasantly, as well as prevent the camera/phone itself from shadowing your face. But there's also a massive, insidious reason this happens- all phone cameras have some degree of fisheye to their lens to increase the field of view while still using compact optics. Multiple lens have helped a bit, but its still a problem on all of them. Higher end phones will algorithmically correct for this, but they also add a TON of other postprocessing "beautification" in ways that are sometimes completely invisible (insert entire rant here about how this is a deceptive marketing tactic to make a brands phone cameras seem better than they actually are). Sometimes, these edits are way off base. But I digress. The fisheye is killer because it takes any slightly more prominent feature and bulges them out, including the nose and chin. Conversely, recessed features, like eyes and the sides of your cheeks, are going to be less emphasized. Moving further away from the camera significantly reduces this. If you can get a small phone tripod and take selfies that way, it'll alleviate this. Unfortunately my living space is not large atm, and I have less motivation to bother my roommates in the common areas and use their hallways for picture taking, so this has been a little lacking in more recent selfies. It's also just a lot of work for a couple quick selfies, so its hard to do right- but it genuinely makes a world of difference.

Otherwise, my advice about eyes would be that your eyes show your overall facial expression, even if you're covering your mouth. Most of my pictures are taken while smiling slightly under the mask, and it shows in the eyes. If I want a scarier looking picture, I'm stone faced or deliberately make my entire face angrier, and you end up with the "glaring directly down the camera wanting to kill you" face. Referring to the pictures I just posted- the first two are both dead faced under the mask, whereas in the last one, I'm doing a smug, sultry smirk. The eyes then reflect that.

Don't focus on specifically trying to open your eyes wider. Change your facial expression and just let them be how they want to be in relation to that. Eye position should fully commit to looking straight into the camera, or be fully distracted with something else, imo (including the screen of your phone, if you're doing something like a mirror selfie). If you're taking a mirror selfie, look at the camera lens as it's reflected in the mirror. A HUGE takeaway is that cameras, especially phone cameras, straight up lie to you. They don't work the same way as the human eye, and have to compensate for that- but they'll never be a completely faithful representation of what you look like. Don't let your ego be affected by how you look in pictures, when all is said and done.

And of course, experiment, experiment, experiment! Figure out the lighting you can get in the space you have available, and the angles that work for you! Don't be afraid to delete selfies you don't like! Show off your style and your features in the way you want to! There are no rules for what's attractive, this is just what I do and you should develop your own style!

I guess I'll take this with both femboy and trans tags bc the selfies are pre-HRT

[mukurosgf]

why do people like mukuro??? let's talk about it!

(before reading, the post i listed above is clearly less a question and more of a "i don't like mukuro" post, so it will be treated as such!!! ^_^ incoming spoilers for danganronpa: trigger happy havoc)

to start us off, discrediting mukuro in danganronpa IF as an "alternate mukuro" is frankly ridiculous. a huge reason fans love her is because of how much we learn about her in the novel that we couldn't learn in the game due to her early death. not to mention, drIF is an alternate story—not an alternate mukuro. she is still the same character with the same motives, just on a different path. this new path doesn't change the fact that she is still the same character with the same personality as the one we see in trigger happy havoc. to disregard drIF is absurd considering the main reason it was written was to provide us more details about mukuro by having her as the protagonist.

even so, let's get hypothetical and say "yeah! drIF does have a different mukuro!" even if that were the case, mukuro is still a deeply complex character outside of the novel and is so much more than her loyalty to her sister.

in her fourth free time event, "junko" (mukuro in disguise) describes how she has had the same dream ever since she was a little kid. makoto asks if she's talking about modeling and mukuro says nothing in confirmation. it's made clear that she isn't talking about a modelling career. it's left to interpretation whether she's talking about her military career or her loyalty to junko. i believe her words are in regard to her loyalty because of how she starts the conversation with how she wants to talk about her "true intentions".

makoto offers that could just still feel the same way about her dream. in response, mukuro details how she no longer Is so sure about her dream and goes on to say that keeping the same goal leaves no room for growth.

all of this paints a much different picture than a blindly loyal sister. it shows us just how much potential she has always had for the story she left too early. this mukuro feels the exact same way the "alternate mukuro" felt in drIF—unsure of her actions.

now, a lot of the dislike for mukuro comes with how the anime "danganronpa: despair arc" handled her character. the way her character was handled was very distasteful and uncomfortable for the majority of fans. this take on her character was drastically different to her character in drIF. in the anime, she is shown to enjoy the insults from her sister. meanwhile in the novel, junko's insults deeply upset her. this leaves us to wonder, which is her true reaction? we can infer that it is her drIF one considering that, as we've gone over, her personality in the novel is Incredibly in tune with how mukuro is in her original source material—trigger happy havoc—so why would it be any different in this case?

in conclusion, any way mukuro is "lacking" is strictly a combination of her absence of screen time and the mischaracterization of her true nature. she is a deeply misunderstood and underrated character for these reasons and i suggest reconsidering before calling her boring.

[ofbreathandflame-archive]

Personally, I dnt see Nesta abusing Feyre because of how vague their history in their past home was like. They seemed on v equal ground wit the way they argued and fought. Feyre calls Nesta a burden then Nesta retaliates. Nesta warns Feyre about the old hag and Feyre brings up their past fight from the other night. Nesta tries to save Feyre and Feyre realizes there is more to her sister than she thought.

They always were at odds with each other but their never seemed to be any serious power dynamic between them. Neither was afraid of the other and both saw themselves in the other. I honestly think they both have stuff to answer for from their days in the cottage.

In SF, the book even says that Feyre wasn’t perfect and that she made mistakes but their past doesn’t have to define their future. Again, we dnt know what those mistakes could have been since there is such vague exploration of their dynamic back then. But passages in the books like these make me see that it wasn’t abuse between them. It certainly wasn’t healthy but definetly not so one-sided as many antis make it out to be.

hi anon!!

my response is loooooong 😭

i do really want to talk about this. i think the set up in the cabin is very important to the foundation of the sisters' relationship, and because its left as this gaping hole that lacks nuance and logic, it muddles the characterization going forward. a court of silver flames runs into trouble for this reasons, hence why is said it employs the use of 'placeholder' plotlines. to start, as many have stated before me, the set-up in the cabin makes no sense. none. not even a little. that matters for a lot of reasons but specifically because we can't really argue the validity of any of the sister's actions when the worldbuilding around them has none to begin.

its very hard to apply a real system of continual power, abuse, and neglect, when the circumstances around such dynamic is vague and uncommitted. the story doesn't want to commit to the consequences, but it also doesn't want to establish a relationship between the sisters without placing feyre as the permanent victim. so - it created an absurd scenario that doesn't make any sense. what i am saying is - the story has to go wayyyy out of its way to make elain and nesta 'villains' - to the point that the plot can't even support it. like for example, the girls live together in the cabin without feyre hunting for about a good 3-4 years. that means: someone clothed them, someone fed them, someone cleaned, someone took care of them. someone picked up the slack and its wasn't feyre. we know that mama archeron dies when the girls are 8, 10, and 11 - and the shortly after that, they lose their wealth. so - the girls are maybe 11, 13, and 14. literal children. and again - someone had to be taking care of them, a dynamic existed before feyre went hunting, but somehow never gets brought up. if the story is committed to this story, why doesn't it highlight nesta/feyre/elain's relationship in the moments where feyre isn't hunting? what was their relationship like? what was feyre like? these are perfect moments to establish the relationship. even if the sisters were lazy - what would they be doing all day? how would they even sustain themselves on meat all year long? even if the sisters were evil sisters there's little motivation for them to even be like this. the sisters are only three years apart. literally. when feyre was 8, elain was 10, and nesta was 11. thats not a big enough age-gap to even sustain partially of what the story argues about why the sisters have a disconnect. nesta would have been a BABY when feyre and elain were born - where is the motivation? how do elain and nesta develop a faction when they would have been mere toddlers when feyre came into the picture???

either papa archeron isn't a deadbeat or some mysterious force clothed, bathed, fed, and took care of them. like even the circumstances behind papa archeron being a deadbeat make no sense??/

and then there's the added layer of the suppose abuse the grandmother and mother were doling out to nesta, elain, and feyre. nesta was physically abused, and feyre was neglected to hell and high water - there's a plot pont to exploit right there. if the story wants to commit to nesta being abusive, but also wants her to be sympathetic, validating where her anger comes from, while acknowledging how it negatively affected her relationships with her sisters would be the perfect way to go. playing into the mirror sacrifices these sisters (youngest and oldest) made towards one another would have been *chefs kiss*. but again - the story leaned way too moral to even attempt a conversation like this. its willing to forgive the tamlins, rhys's and cassians, but not the women in the story. the thing is - the story doesn't commit to real faults with feyre - and it doesn't do that with nesta or elain either. they are only a standard to compare feyre against. and that's why the story cannot commit to a basic conversation between the sisters - there's nothing that exists between the except the drama. nesta has to atone for mystery reasons bc the story has rewrote their dynamic too many times. sjm acknowledges that the sisters are caricatures at this point of the story, but she doesn't rewrite the first book to accommodate her switch is plot direction.

nesta can't really tell feyre 'why she treated her x way ' bc the story doesn't know why either. a reason doesn't exist. elains book will probably have the same issue, on an even broader scale bc it doesn't actually have a reason these sisters chose to stare at a wall for 24 hours out of the day. the reason elain 'chooses not to help' is even more flimsy than the reason it gave nesta. esp bc the story later establishes that elain isn't even supposed to be a bad person, she can actually be caring. shes also a gardener so it also makes no sense that she would...cringe away from feyre bc of dirt???? that part makes no sense. she literally refused gloves at some point bc she liked to use her hands. she does so in the same book. and i don't even like this character but its the truth, and its why i cannot adequately take what the story argues about the sister seriously. nothing about what it argues makes any logical sense. it for this story...yeah that matters.

so....its valid that people don't take those chapters seriously. they are actually written with unserious intent. like how can i be angry at the sisters when the story argues they were essentially staring into space for eight years??? argues that papa archeron with 10000000 connections couldn't just....use those connections like he literally did near the end of tar and war? that the sisters could live off wild meat for years and still be alive? that toddler nesta and baby elain annexed toddler feyre??? its an unserious situation here. like feyre would rather -- @ 11, 14 or whatever age the story chooses to argue -- would immediately turn to the deadly woods and not yknow...an actual job??? mmkay.

[chevelleneech]

I agree with you overall but the problem isn't him posting really. Unlike tkkrs, jkks don't really think tae and jk friendship is fake/fs/never existed, the main problem is the timing and the lack of mentioning other members during it over and over even when they have big moments in the process. It seems like he posts some things in a very caculated timing where he benefit more out of it than jimin or even jk. People don't suddenly wake up and decided to post old trip pictures right when a certin trip show is about to start with said person and another member. there was an intent there. Some people will say it's him showing support and wanting to be included out of love others will say it's him having an agenda and bandwagon jumping on other people's projects without caring how they'd be treated. He is questionable because it happened too many times to be a coincidance. his shippers claim he's doing it on purpose but they are okay with it cause for them it means they getting "orders" so even they see it so..there's something there. I think jk lack of response is awkward and ignoring other members in his jk mentions makes it questionable so as well but that's who he is. He can do what he wants but I hope he'll be more responsible in the future cause at some point it just look funny and slightly selfish

I don’t necessarily disagree, about his actions being questionable, but I also think it’s important to remember Tae has been like this for about five years give or take. In my opinion, I’d say it coincides with the time JM and JK settled into their whatever they’ve got going on, and hasn’t changed much since.

So I don’t think he’s being spiteful or even sneaky in regards to Jikook as a shipped pairing, but that he could be envious of the bond they’ve developed over the years. This is all speculation on my part, but we know he and Jungkook were close when they were younger. We know JK was pretty damn shy and seemed just as shy around Jimin. He never seemed that way with Tae, and I’m speaking purely on what we’ve seen, not from a ship perspective.

As the members grew up, JM and JK remained close, as far as we know, but Tae and JK had a little bump in the road. We can also assume them both developing love lives and outside friendships likely played a part in things, which includes Tae’s friendship with Jimin. I’m not someone who thinks Vmin aren’t close anymore because of social media or a lack of visible solo music support. I’m big on taking what we see and forming an opinion of my own, but ultimately remembering I don’t post on social media for all my family’s stuff.

To me, it’s bullshit to hold celebrities to higher standards in this context, just because we want to know things about them. So seeing as Vmin obviously hung out during the filming of the travel show, is it not safe to assume they don’t have as many problems as people are thinking?

I don’t want to ramble too much longer, but my overall opinion of what’s going on is that I have a hard time judging Tae for “interrupting” Jikook moments, and assuming negative intent, because JK and Jimin seem fine.

We know Tkkrs take what Tae does and twist it and run shit into the ground and kickstart hate campaigns toward Jimin for existing near JK, but neither Jimin nor Jungkook have reacted, as far as we know. And Tae hasn’t changed his actions. So unless maknae line are secret enemies, I don't see the motivation.

[animatorweirdo]

The stars of the deep part 2

Fingon could never forget what he had left behind in the icy wastelands. He longed to hear your voice and see the light that once ignited hope within his heart. But after centuries, will he ever be able to do so?

Requested by Anon

Hi! Hope I made it in time to slide this request in :) sending you a request for part 2 of the stars of the deep? (Fingon x reader) maybe he goes and seeks her out after rebirth or maybe even during his time in Beleriand? Thank you!! And congratulations on your followers!

Part 1

(I'm struggling to write and edit thanks to a lack of motivation and assignments that keep on coming. I'm sorry if this is not entirely the best I could come up with but I hope you still like it anon)

Warnings: mentions of dying, lingering hate, angst, possibly unrequited love, Fingon looking and singing.

------------------------

Fingon could never forget you. He tried. After the arduous journey through Helcaraxe and losing so many to the cold and the first battle with Morgoth's forces— he tried forgetting you, yet he failed. 

It was because of the love he felt for you. It had persisted for ages, even when he had long died and re-embodied in the blessed realm of Valinor, healed and forgiven for his deeds in the past. 

It was something his father and the rest of his family pitied him for. Since elves could only love once, Fingon could not love anyone else after meeting you, one of the daughters of Ulmo. 

You and your sisters had long heard of their deeds in Alqualondë and, as a result, never appeared to them again. You never came to their aid when they had tried sailing to Valinor and tragically drowned in the sea’s pitiless waves. There was only one exception, and that was due to your father’s will. You never responded to their songs or appeared to them on the shores of the blessed realm. 

So, in the bigger picture, Fingon’s love for you could never be reciprocated. 

Fingon’s heart longed to see your brilliant light and hear your beautiful voice. He would often gaze out toward the sea because that’s where you lived, swimming among your sisters and living a life beneath the waves. It felt like a calling, which only pained his heart more because he did not know where to look for you or if you ever wanted to see him again. 

Helcaraxe was no more due to the changing of the world, but from what he had heard, Ulmo had summoned all of you to live safely in the waters of Valinor, away from Morgoth’s influence and the world of men. 

One day, his longing began to eat away his very soul. He couldn’t stand still so he made the decision to journey and try to find you. His family discouraged him when he told them of his plans. Even if ages had already passed and most have forgiven them of their past. There was no guarantee you would want to see him again. Not to mention, you two lived in two different worlds. Him on the land and you in the sea. 

However, patience and lack of trying had never been part of Fingon. 

He left his home and ventured around Aman. The Teleri had been close friends of yours for ages. However, since the first kinslaying and the wounds caused by the destruction of their boats, they were reluctant to tell Fingon anything about you and your sisters. Only a few were willing to say something, guiding him to the shores where he could try to sing to you and wait for your answer. 

On every shore, he would sing to the ocean, hoping for a response, yet no matter how long he sang, silence was his only reply.

Nevertheless, Fingon persisted, trying again on different shores, only to receive echoes of the sea. His goal was to catch even a glimpse of you, but after failing to elicit a response on nearly every shore and beach in Aman, he was finally ready to heed his family's advice and return home. The one place he had not yet tried was the northern seas. 

Fingon stood upon the rocks, staring at the vast ocean before him. The wind pushed the waves against the rough cliffs, and the breeze chilled him even though he was wearing layers of scarves to protect him from the cold. 

Despite the tragic and unpleasant memories. Fingon always found a certain beauty in Ulmo’s realm, and now, this would be his last try to hear your voice again. 

If his family were there to see him, they would call him a desperate fool, and maybe that is what he was. He had always felt deeply for the people he cared about. He did not even hesitate to venture into Angband and save his foolish red-haired cousin. 

Fingon began to play his harp, singing of the sea and the memories of the long past. Love and longing, the beauty of the light and the cold. His voice echoed far through the sea that even the smallest of the sea’s creatures could hear him. 

Memories of you passed his mind and he called out to you. At the end of his song, he waited, he waited for your response. 

He waited for you. But there was nothing. No response. He felt heartbroken. 

A light then shone from the sea. Fingon watched as the light shone brighter and turned into a large figure, swimming around him, and when he turned around, he was face to face with you. 

You had grown larger over the years, large as your oldest sister the last time he saw her. Your hair had grown in length, still decorated in pearls and seashells and your eyes held wisdom over the ages and light from the past. Fingon's heart swelled with joy when he locked his eyes with you and despite him being a size of grain compared to you, he found himself enraptured by your beauty like all those years ago. 

"You had been looking for me, princeling," your voice sounded like a great echo of the sea, yet still held tenderness and calm. 

"Why?" you questioned, staring into him. 

"Because..." Fingon started, nearly unsure how to answer. "Once an Eldar gives away his heart, he could never take it back," he said. You looked at him softly after hearing his answer. "You would love a creature like me?" you asked. Fingon softly smiled. "I had loved you ever since we first locked eyes with each other," he said. "And if you only forgive my misdeeds," he said. 

You gently raised your hand, caressing his face. Despite the chill touch of your hand, Fingon found himself leaning on it. You leaned close, staring into his eyes. "I'll forgive you," you said and Fingon softly grinned. 

You two relived in the moments, enjoying the darkness and the loneliness that was finally relieved from both of your hearts.

[marvus-xoloto]

idk if you've talked about this but what do you think it would take to get marvus real and truly angry? like the kind of anger that turns his eyes the same color as the base of his horns. that pure rage. how would he react to that situation? what would it take to bring him down afterward? sorry this is such a specific prompt but im curious about your thoughts on it.

I may have spoken about this before, idk! I don't mind repeating hcs because it's fun to revisit old opinions and see how they've changed :o) PLUS i am like DESPERATE for hiveswap meta/analysis content and I'm happy to make more with people <3

Anyway. I had to sit on this one for a while; really had to think about it. (Frankly, my mind is feeling unorganized so it took a little longer than I wanted haha.) My opinion isn't super formed yet, so I'm open to discussion about this one (and. everything. i like to discuss).

My gut instinct says: nothing that he'll likely experience, but let's dive deep, shall we ;o)

First off, let's talk about Marvus and emotions in general to get a baseline.

Marvus is ice cool COLD. He's very easy going, only lashing out when things that are important to him are going to shit (and even then its's not a terribly strong reaction, see: his bad end when all the clowns are fighting. "Man wtf is going on" or something like that. Marvus enjoys performing for his crowd; more on that in some other post). That being said, he recovers quickly and will generally just Not Get His Hands Dirty (come on troll nostradamus letz skeet skoot).

He is in control of himself. He has to be.

In my opinion, this indicates that he has a very high emotional IQ. He has to have a high emotional IQ as both an artist and a manipulator (some might say these two things are one and the same for him). Not much shocks him, nothing can really get to him.

This does mean that while he is generally friendly, it's not easy to actually get close to him unless it's his idea. That's not relevant here, though, haha.

Here's another part of Marvus that explains his anger response: he always has a plan. The gears in his head are always turning; he's very intelligent. For him, anger doesn't solve any of his problems or bring him closer to his goals: he needs to be approachable (see: with Joey, how he manipulates her [don't get me started on their clown and kid friendship it fucks me up sooo bad]), and he needs to appear only as threatening as he needs to. He's quick to improvise (see how he protects Joey in the purple car at the end of act 3).

So. What gets to him!

In my opinion, the only two things that have the potential to get him this angry are:

-> Lack of privacy

Marvus needs to keep his secrets in order to, well, do what he does. This leads him to the instinct to keep his personal life and secrets VERY well hidden. Even if it's not a big deal on the surface, something like the name of his matesprit dropping or tracks leaking (that he didn't stategically leak himself) might frustrate him more than the average person. Something like explicit pictures of him, or something that someone could use as a metaphorical thread to follow towards his motivations or his ego; these might make him actually pissed.

That being said, though, I genuinely can't see him getting red-eyed angry about this. Generally, I do see him as someone who enjoys getting out of trouble, even if he's not thrilled about it at first. Like playing a puzzle! I'll leave it open as a possibility, however. What I really think could get to him is...

-> Knowing that he is, for whatever reason, not free or otherwise helpless

This is more esoteric and, frankly, extremely rare in his life.

Marvus really does not like the idea of having no freedom. We can infer from his general dislike of seadwellers combined with his ideas to "shake up" the hemospectrum (emphais on "shake up," notice that he never mentions improving it) that it's less about inequality and more about inconvenience. He dislikes that anyone might have percieved power over him (notice during his diatribe that he does view purple blooded trolls as unquestionably stronger and more influential than the caste above, and how he doesn't do this for say, bluebloods, who are a caste below but still in a position of relative power).

But having a plan is pretty much the core of Marvus's id. Not having that? Losing that sense of himself? Failing? I can see this genuinely making him rage-y angry.

Calming him down is simple: find him a solution. He's timeboud, thus goal based. He needs to have a focus point, something to reach for.

Anyway! Hope that made sense!

[wilnix-qna]

PINNED - ASK BLOG IS UP!!!

SO. Welcome to the official ask blog for Wilbur T. Hunter and Phoenix Anderson, featured in @taterswithranch’s Havoc and Homework AU! This blog is run by the two characters’ creator, @flurriethefox :D

Unfortunately, I can’t add a picture of Wilbur and Phoenix interacting, as the interaction will not look how I want it to, BUT I can still put this post up and will add the drawing once I actually get it done!

RULES

NO NSFW ASKS. Jokes are okay, just don’t go too far, and DO NOT ship the two. Phoenix is a minor, and while she and Wilbur are friends, they are not and will not be together.

I more than likely will not answer questions with drawings, and if I do, they will be very rare occasions, due to procrastination, too little time, and lack of motivation. However, I will try to answer any asks as soon as possible, usually the first time I see them. If not, please be patient :D

You can ask just about anything, there isn’t much that I won’t answer, so GO NUTS!!!

Any responses that are either not drawn or are in-character will be in colors:

Wilbur with a💧emoji and Phoenix with a 🔥 emoji!

That’s about it! You can ask anything lore wise, basic facts, stuff like that, doesn’t really matter! PLEASE go crazy with this, I’m practically begging /hj

[morievna]

Ch. 104.5 - On Fukuzawa’s mistake and Fukuchi’s motive and Last Judgement symbolism

*dies irae in background xD*

Woah what a chapter – I still not recovered from emotional meltdown from Given – and we got such exciting continuation in BSD. Honestly i hoped for more of Fukuchi’s POV on Tokoyami island, but Asagiri is such tease and I have to wait more XD

But before I start, I want to make things clear:

I will be a bit critical of Fukuzawa – I don’t want to be taken as I am dragging him or think that he is bad person. He is good person but flawed like everybody.

I know that Fukuchi is mostly hated by fandom…please remember that point of villain is not to be likeable, but that he is serving specific purpose in narrative – to challenge protagonist’s morale, methods and views on system they live in.

Ofc I don’t claim to be 100% correct - this is just my interpretation and super-deduction xD

Okay, so let’s start~~

I want to bring attention to that frame - it is significant because Atsushi was reminiscing about it when he was contemplating Fukuchi’s goal.

What is interesting is that in official polish translation this line is a bit different – something along this:

“Who is right or wrong – let it be decided by God’s Judgement!”

Ofc I am not stating that fan translation is wrong – I just want to point out how from symbolic perspective God’s Judgement = Final Judgement = Apocalypse fits story rather nicely:

Fukuchi is obviously associated with being god or god’s executioner– godlike status of ability + holy sword, nickname Kamui = god, also lion (his ability name) is symbol of god/christ, god=justice as he is seen as justice by others

DoA members count – 1+4 = god + four horsemen of apocalypse

Point of Last Judgment is to pass judgment on living and dead (here vampires) and basically create new world without evil, wars and sins (here abilities) – aka promised land - which is basically Fyodor’s goal

Fyodor specifically created plan with karma in mind – and practically The Last Judgment is about it too – “it will reveal even to its furthest consequences the good each person has done or failed to do during his earthly life” as wiki says.

I know DoA is more leaning towards Buddhism with angels, karma and rebirth - but this is angle is interesting too and judgment in afterlife is rather universal concept. Okay, maybe I am overthinking it too much, but it is fun to interpret that way.

So basically this arc is about Fukuchi judging humanity and serving them karma.

In previous chapters Atsushi failed judgment because lack of courage and trust in Akutagawa – which as result Fukuchi intended to kill him back then. On the other side, he recognized spirit and skill of Akutagawa and Tachihara – thus granting them rebirth as vampires. Imo once they regain consciousness in the future, it will work in their favour. They will be fine, don’t worry~~

And now Fukuchi was testing Fukuzawa with all that ‘guessing his motive’ and when Fukuzawa failed, Fukuchi passed divine judgment on him.

Okay, now moving on to Fukuzawa and why he was wrong~~

Basically xD

Fukuzawa is shown as person who rather makes decisions not considering bigger picture – like going for quick easy remedy to every situation.

Just like in Cannibalism Fukuzawa’s decision to trying kill Mori was depicted as wrong one (as it could result in PM returning to its previous mindless violence version). But there was Natsume Souseki to save situation.

Also his decision to kill advocates for war was temporary solution to stop war (and not thinking about root cause aka imperialistic agenda of government). It is also very ironic lil hypocritical that he went from ‘I won’t go to war because there is only killing’ to ‘let’s kill people responsible for war’ – as sole ‘killing’ wasn’t problem to him after all. And again karma got him – for continuing cycle of violence – as ADA was framed as terrorists to the public by corrupt politician which father he killed.

And then his guessing Fukuchi’s motive –

Firstly, Fukuzawa is portraying as it is only result of single traumatic experience, and not endless exploitation by government to the point of breaking Fukuchi as person. They had thrown him from battlefield to another without break. Ordered to torture civilians. And also government establishing Hunted Dogs, which basically has no true agency as without monthly check-ups they die -  so they can’t really oppose orders. Overall, in all BSD we are repeatedly shown that government is corrupt and is not to be trusted/relied upon – as they only see to use people for their own agenda and not common good.

‘everything for past 36 years has been weighting down’ as Teruko and Atsushi said this chapter.

Because ultimately Fukuchi is after systematic change. He is fallen idealist, who no longer believes that it can done without coercion, thus using One Order and Book to achieve that – creating world without wars and evil. Like a way to prevent more tragedies like these which had befallen him and his comrades.

Ofc it can be that he is seeing that as form of revenge - as stripping power from angels/politicians to make them rebirth to suffer the consequences from their action.

Which could be, because there is interesting change in Fukuchi expression:

Like from ‘shit he got me’ to ‘meh, not at all’ xD

‘Meh’ is when Fukuzawa claimed that Fukuchi is targeting ADA as punishing him for rejecting his plea to help him save comrades. Though it obviously hurt Fukuchi back then – still it is wrong assumption because karma is for everybody~~ Most of ADA have either dark past where they killed people (Dazai, Kyouka, Atsushi) or feel guilty for their inability to save people (Kunikida, Yosano) or have questionable moral code (Tanizaki, Kenji, Ranpo). Ofc I am not stating that they are bad people – they are not – it is just DoA plan to make people get karma for their actions.

To sum it all up, fighting Fukuchi is mistake  - story is repeatedly showing with AtsuAku, Tachihara(+Mori strategy) and now Fukuzawa(+Ranpo strategy). It is simply not about defeating him. Because he has right points about government corruption and need for change – though achieving it through tyranny is obviously wrong way to go xD

Ofc in bad scenario it could go in marvel movies way - with protecting status quo and Fukuchi simply dying, but we will see. I would preferred to see it more The Last Jedi way – like Rey and Luke arc – with Atsushi (with vampire Aku at his side and hopefully Kyouka too) igniting hope in Fukuchi that new generation can fix undoings of the past and the positive change can be achieved organically by kind people.

So last question – did that attack killed Fukuzawa?

Though I am not sure of that, but still I think he is going to die this arc – sorry - for below reasons:

Karma for misunderstanding Fukuchi 

Chapter 91 had very ‘one last time’ vibe with ADA members meeting

Don’t forget that Asagiri is big on trope ‘mentor dies as way to make his protégé grow up’ 

Especially, when you look how much Ranpo is coded as a kid – sweets, don’t wanting to take responsibility and his father-son relationship with Fukuzawa (which is very much emphasized in this arc) –  something just needs to happen to propel his character development, since he didn’t really get any since Mushitarou arc.

Besides, Fukuzawa’s ability stalls other ADA members development too – as he controls their abilities for them. After all, symbolically abilities stand for manifestation of dark part of soul – it is something everybody needs to deal and make peace by yourself, not have other one conveniently control it for you.

But still, probably we will have to wait to see – imo we will get Mersault next chapter with Fyodor opening Chuuya’s gate to unleash Arahabaki mode with black wings for more Apocalypse vibes xD

So that’s all for today^^ Thanks for reading <3

[pancakerry]

love on paint - hs blurb

(in inspo of this)

-

summary: you’re home while harry’s in the studio and decide to paint.. slightly naked.

warnings: super domestic w/ a hint of smut

word count: 1k

every morning harry usually wakes me up before he leaves to go on a run or the studio and gives me a kiss. however, today i wasn’t woken up at the crack of dawn. instead i woke up at 11am with an empty left side of the bed and an unkissed cheek from my lover. groggily rolling over to my nightstand, i check my phone to see a message from harry:

“Good morning, my love. So sorry I couldn’t say goodbye to you this morning. I was in a hurry and you looked so peaceful, you haven’t gotten much sleep this past week so I didn’t wanna wake you. I’ll be home around 3. I love you xx.”

pouting at the words on my phone, i decide to give him a call so i could at least talk to him this morning but he didn’t answer. after contemplating my next move i get out of bed and head to the bathroom to get a start on my day which includes my skincare routine, brushing my teeth, doing my hair, and getting dressed. since today is my wash day i decide to put my hair in a half up, half down style with a silver butterfly claw clip. heading to my closet, i realize practically my whole wardrobe is currently in the wash. shit.

i decide to forgo pants and a shirt and just wear my underwear and socks; it’s not like anyones gonna see anyways. as i’m making my bed i hear a grumble coming from my stomach, signaling it’s about time to eat something so i’m not starving to death by dinner time. i speed down the stairs, and almost tripping in the process, and look in the fridge and pantry seeing if i was in the mood for breakfast or lunch since it’s currently in between. out of pure laziness and lack of motivation to even brainstorm a meal, i get the ingredients to make a smoothie which happens to be one of harry’s favorite things i make him. i take out the cranberry-mango juice, heavy cream, berries, and mix it all up in the blender. as i’m pouring it into a love on tour cup harry calls me. excitedly, i pick up:

“hi baby!!”

“Hi love, have you eaten yet?”

giggling, “yes h, i just made my famous smoothie. wish you were at home, i have some extra.” i state, pouting through the phone.

“I wish I was there too baby, I’m sorry again for not saying bye. I hate not doing it, proper messes up my whole schedule!” he says dramatically.

laughing through my words, “oh stoppp, don’t be dramatic!”

after a few more minutes of conversation, i say my goodbyes and hang up due to hearing commotion in the background. while i love talking to him more than anything, i don’t wanna get him any more distracted than he probably already is.

as i sip my smoothie, i take it with me to me and harry’s combined office and get painting supplies to occupy all the extra time i, surprisingly, have. after looking on pinterest for painting ideas, i choose to take a more personal route and paint a picture from my camera roll of harry and i on a picnic in italy. particularly nervous for this painting, i get all the brushes and paint i need and start sketching with a pencil.

as a child, my dad never supported my love for art and how in touch i was with my creative side. he found it useless and wanted me to become a lawyer because it would “bring more money and give our family an important reputation”. he was so unsupportive that whenever i’d show him a piece i made, i would receive the response, “it’s no big deal,” and with my mom dead, no one was there to back me up or support me. ever since then, i never picked up a paintbrush.

however, i am quite good at painting and i always have been but this will be the first time harry sees it and i want it to be perfect for him. once my sketch is done, i get lost in the strokes of the paintbrush and become put in a haze of my creativity and all i had pictured for this portrait. i’m so in the flow that i fail to realize that harry arrived at home and is leaning against the doorframe, staring at me with so much love and lust in his eyes.

“Hello darling,” he states ever so softly as he walks towards my practically naked figure.

“holy shit, h! you scared the fuck out of me! when did you get home?!” i shout.

“Not too long ago, I was just admiring you. What are you painting, love?”

embarrassed, i quickly shield my work with my body. “nothing!” through flushed cheeks.

his eyes slowly travel from my face to my chest, eyes getting darker the longer he stares, making me blush even harder.

throwing his head back, “fuck baby, you’re so fit.” he says through a choked groan, resting his delicate hands on my hips and squeezing.

moaning at the sudden movement and comment, i lean forward and kiss him feverishly, expressing my love through the kiss. the painting is 100% sure long forgotten.

“you seem to be overdressed for the occasion,” i pant out with a smirk and quickly remove his shirt, admiring his abs and tattoos on his body. he lifts my chin up and says, “up” signaling that i should wrap my legs around his slim waist so he can lead me to the bedroom.

through the sound and action of teeth clashing, pants, moans, and grinding, he leads me to our bedroom and throws me onto the bed, my hair splayed across my face and the bed. leaning forward, his raspy voice whispers and pants in my ear, “after this, you’re gonna show me that painting of yours and if you’re good, i’ll let you be in control.” he says slapping my ass and biting my lip. gasping at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his hardness pressing into my crotch, i gasp out, “yes sir.”

this is gonna be a long night (and i’m not complaining).