#say about ren what you want

[tomatette]

[kingarmorking]

[bdoubleowo]

DO YOUR PART! VOTE REN IN @mcytblrsexymen TODAY!

[commsroom]

assorted doug eiffel fantasy genre thoughts that will never cohere into a proper post but i want to say anyway: love that lotr is one of his more-frequently-referenced series. doug eiffel is the guy who is dying to tell you viggo mortensen broke his toes while kicking that helmet. thinking about gabriel urbina saying eiffel's favorite game of thrones character was robb and, doing the math, they realized the last episode to air before he left earth would've been the one right before the red wedding. thinking about the not-technically-canon dnd script and how he would be so so insufferable to dm for because he has his character's whole story planned out and he gets frustrated every time the game doesn't adhere to it. doug eiffel is the guy who gets really annoying about other people not doing their character voices. and you'd think maybe he would be a better dm than a player, if he wants to tell wild stories and do character voices so badly, but he would never be willing to plan for it and he insists he wants to play even though it makes him mad every time. doug eiffel has a very specific and very fervent pet peeve about the prevalence of giant spiders in high fantasy and you should not get him started.

[vacantgodling]

once again i am putting my nose where it doesn’t belong to tap the well aged sign: preferences do not good writing advice make.

this time, as i was taking a lovely grandeur through the hallowed echo chamber that is the tumblr dashboard, i came across a post that claimed to be a guide for writing characters with powers or special abilities. as i have no interest in reading writing advice posts when i can avoid it (as you can see, they clearly annoy me too much), i unfortunately could not help but be captivated by the first paragraph the tumblr’s post shortening feature could not spare me from.

to summarize, the first point was that all characters need a power limit because it is inherently boring if a character can do anything, unrestricted.

and i would simply like to point out that a very popular anime has this exact fucking premise and guess what, it’s not boring.

for the uninitiated, the entire point of one punch man is that saitama is essentially an infinite power source. there isn’t anything he can’t solve without punching it square in the face. the challenge, tension, and conflict mostly come from saitama’s interpersonal struggles within himself that there isn’t anything that can excite him anymore, and finding purpose with these awesome abilities. technically speaking the “limit” that is spoken of in the post doesn’t exist—there’s nothing stopping saitama from obliterating anything that gets in his path and literally most of the time he does. however, his interpersonal journey (at least, which is more heavily focused on in season one and specifically what i’m referring to) is still a conflict without removing that op aspect from him.

and i know what you’re saying: but isn’t that the point of the part of the post that annoyed you? his boredom is a mental block and so technically that’s a limit? and i would say to you, no. like there’s nothing that’s actually hindering his powers, saitama is actively looking for something that can thrill him enough to use his godlike abilities. AND what i’m saying is, that the overarching point is that it is entirely possible to still craft an interesting story around a character that is limitless in their power. it’s literally been done before, even just in that small example.

but onto my broader bitch fest.

it annoys me whenever i see posts like these because once again this is a preference. it frames their argument as the end all be all of writing advice on the particular subject, and even if it is aimed at “beginners,” i still wonder what help it does to tell people that inherently their idea is boring or bad if they don’t do x or if they do y. i just feel like it isn’t helpful, at least not the wording of it at the bare minimum. i spent my days as a young writer worrying is this going to be good enough, or oh maybe this character is too op just based on posts like this alone and it stifled my creativity.

which brings me to my second universal stance on writing.

i don’t think it’s helpful to say do this or don’t do that, but i do think it is helpful to ask why. why can this character do x, why is it important to you and the narrative that y happens, why is this world like that, why is this character acting like that and so on. anything can be a good story built to your own tastes, but what helps you develop it is simply asking yourself why are things happening. i found asking myself why has been a far more effective tool to worldbuilding than any other advice i’ve ever seen ever.

i will now continue to huddle at the bus stop because it’s now too cold for me to keep being annoyed

[wreckedhoney]

uuuug every so often i see writing tips passed around and i want to make a post but i can't find the right words to convey "aaaauuggh don't do what The r/se of sk/walk3r did"

(long tags warning bc i haven't learned how not to type like i'm not popping off yet)

[ohbaby-here-we-go-again]

Guys wait that lyrics analysis was actually so fun. And I love seeing what other people thought !!….what if we do another one….

[muninnhuginn]

Post s2e9 confirmations and speculations as of this ep, starting with confirmations and moving on to thoughts/speculations.

Before I start, just going to link my speculations as of a couple of episodes ago here because they're surprisingly either still relevant or have been confirmed either way. Of these, the main pieces still outstanding are Liu Min's phone and the serial murders.

Fountain boy low-key confirmed to be Liu Min's younger brother (Liu Xiao, apparently?). He knew Tianchen would soon be given the opportunity to "hunt" and lo, there is Liu Min (who even vaguely recognised Tianchen which makes sense if he's an acquaintance of his brother's). His own surname is Liu and obviously that's a pretty common name, but the fact he had someone driving him around means he's pretty rich and, well, son of a games company CEO seems pretty rich indeed. Apply law of conservation of detail and this one is now locked in at 95%. Fountain boy = Liu Xiao = "hunter" = hat guy (the last I'm a bit less certain of, but again, conservation of detail and there aren't many episodes left).

I'd been wondering about the weird focus the neighbour got in terms of his gaming so him being someone Liu Min wanted taken care of made that entire side of things click for me. Liu Min was terminally online and so was the neighbour. Tianchen must've thought it karma that he had this opportunity.

Third story: Tianchen as red eyes, going further and further as Tianxi is forced to watch until he goes too far even for her - at which point she broke free and tried to appeal to Lu Guang (but why him?). (All that said, Tianchen claims he killed both their parents, but we didn't actually see it properly in any of the flashbacks which could just be because they're being careful with the censors but I'm still side-eyeing it until we see exactly what happened. After all, there was no knife in the picture when we left the scene.) Tianxi's story I'm presuming is simply an animated version of what Tianxi is showing Qiao Ling to tell her story.

Speaking of, Tianxi "broke free" in her school uniform and that was also how she was found. Does that place the hoodie scenes in the hospital as before she fled? Because rewatching a bit of ep 4 and it seemed that QJ was talking to Tianchen-as-Tianxi then (could be wrong, 'Tianxi' never spoke that we heard in this scene but it being actual Tianxi rather than Tianchen raises so many more questions) which would imply she was missing after the hospital and that's when they implemented the disguising plan. Thinking about the "sorry" scenes in the third story and wondering if Chen Bin was the final straw for Tianxi.

First/second story: The Romeo and Juliet backstage they're at was indeed as I saw a few people speculating a production featuring Qian Jin's wife and her co-star. Tianchen "I killed them both" @ Qian Jin: wow he just like me fr. (But nah this definitely raises more questions about the murder of his wife). (Also, just to note that I'm putting the different perspective of QJ meeting LTX and LTC down to the unreliable nature of Xiao Li relaying info initially rather than alternate timelines. Can't rule it out, of course (and the blood on Tianxi in only one of the tellings has me even more hesitant), but unreliable narrator seems an easier fit at this stage. We also know QJ doctored the case files and if LTC outright told him "I killed them both" then that sure didn't make it to the files.)

Qian Jin's motives now back up in the air. Initially it seemed as though he wanted the powers so he could bring his wife back, but with the revelation that he had reason to believe she was cheating (and pregnant with the person she was cheating on him with) the idea he would want her back seems... a lot less likely. Also, his break from morals is placed a lot earlier than it seemed from the outside. Those in the police thought he was outstanding etc etc until his wife died, but he was gone long before that. Ultimately, in both cases with alleged cheating it doesn't matter if the person themselves was cheating because they didn't deserve to be killed for it, but it is fascinating that we're presented with these two similar scenarios from two entirely different perspectives. Li Tianchen and Tianxi as victims of domestic abuse by the person who believes they're being cheated on whilst Qian Jin is the role of the husband who believes he's being cheated on. (The way the pregnancy reveal is played - QJ not seeing his wife often because he was always at work, her startling when caught on the phone - it does seem like he takes the pregnancy as confirmation that she was cheating as the pregnancy couldn't have been with him. She's already dead at that point though.)

With the current timeline we have, I don't know whether QJ engineered the initial killing of his wife (and the fact the culprit escaped legal justice actually kinda makes me think that he didn't), but I do think he used Tianchen after the fact to set up the suicide and suicide note of the killer

The serial killings. We originally believed there were eight in total, starting with Emma. However, this episode shifts the timeline somewhat. Liu Min says thank you for dealing with "that woman", but he still seems to have use of his legs so presumably "that woman" isn't Emma and this is taking place beforehand. Which would imply there are a number of extra victims the police haven't uncovered. (The alternative is that this flashback was in a timeline before the Emma stuff went so wrong and Liu Min still had use of his legs? I'm really hoping it's not this because it'd break my brain a bit) This also somewhat explains how the police were unable to tie motives together for the serial killings if it was a killing-for-hire type scenario, though I do still somewhat believe there's some underlying logic that QJ either bought into himself or was able to make Tianchen buy into in order to believe the victims weren't "innocent"

[slautertm]

Rules: shuffle your 'on repeat' playlist & post the first ten tracks, then tag ten people. If you're not on spotify, just share ten songs that you have on repeat.

screech's tale - ren

prologue - ren

what was i made for - billie eillish

this river between us - big fish the musical

jenny's tale - ren

just a man - epic the musical : the troy saga

the gold -- phoebe bridgers version - manchester orcestra, phoebe bridgers

daughter of the sea ( lullaby ) - sharm

haunted ( taylor's version ) - taylor swift

the torture tango - spies are forever

Tagged by: @sleazeballtm ! Tagging: @fearstouch , @andessence , @lazaruhs , @mvndrvke , & @butnobodyhome !

[bobzora]

the thing about gamedev that they dont want you to know is that you have to actually dev your game @.@ crazy ! ! !

[meejijis]

"Why are all SK fans proshippers" Silence fetus

[campfiretaxidriver]

.

[heterosexistly]

911 fans, if you feel comfortable sharing, how did coming out to your sister/mom (or your "Maddie") go?

[mrnnki-img]

easier to read version with uncolored text under the cut

[slttygeto]

༉‧₊˚. "Shut up, mom!" prank with JJK men.

➜ featuring: nanami kento, gojo satoru, geto suguru.

➜synopsis: your child(ren) has a death wish for sure.

➜note: wasn't able to pick a name for nanami's child. also sorry to the anon who sent this, i had a hard time understanding the request at first. anyway, part 2?

༉‧₊˚. reblog + comment!

༉‧₊˚. NANAMI KENTO

“You need to start learning how to fold your clothes,” you mention casually to your daughter as you carry a basket of warm laundry to the couch.

“Why would I do that?” Nanami’s eyes look up from his book, but he doesn’t budge.

“When you move out, you will only have yourself to rely on,” you continue with the advice and your daughter rolls her eyes as she makes her way to the kitchen.

“Ugh moving out this, moving out that. Just say you want to get rid of me.”

“What–I would never, I’m just reminding you that one day you will become an adult and–”

“Oh just shut up, mom!” 

You truly gave birth to a mini you, a prankster. When you first saw the tiktok trend, you and your daughter had giggled to yourselves at the thought of getting a reaction out of her father. Though, you did warn her of the repercussions. Your husband did not play when it came to showing respect to you.

“I beg your pardon?” Nanami sits up from the couch so fast, it almost makes you jump out of your skin. You don’t have time to react, or hold him back before he is storming towards the kitchen where your teenage daughter was hiding. “What did you just say to your mother?”

“I said shut up, because she was bothering me.”

“And you think that’s one way to speak to my wife?” You see his eyebrows furrow, he even slams the book he was reading down on the kitchen counter so hard that his arm veins are about to pop out.

“Kento,” you walk up behind him, calling out his name softly.

“No, let me take this.”

“No baby listen–”

“I said I will take this.” It’s only when he repeats himself in a stern manner, that your daughter starts to giggle nervously.

“Daddy, it was a prank.”

“Yeah, baby it’s a prank.” You rub his shoulders and biceps reassuringly. Your daughter quickly wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face in his chest.

“I’d never be disrespectful like that.”

“Yeah well, it almost gave me a heart attack,” his voice is now much softer and warmer as he exhales, running his fingers through his daughter’s hair. He pulls you towards him and kisses your forehead before patting his daughter’s head.

“Now, whose idea was it?”

“Mommy’s.”

“Hey!” 

༉‧₊˚. GOJO SATORU

“Hey Ryuu, could you take out the trash please?” 

“No, I’m busy.” Satoru’s ears perk up at the sound of his son’s tone. But he doesn’t budge from where he’s standing in the kitchen.

“Baby, it’s been sitting there all day and it’s full. Could you please–”

“Shut up, mom. I said I’m busy.”

Normally, Satoru wasn’t easy to rile up. His relationship with his son was hilarious, one where he doted on his child whilst the latter pretended as though he couldn’t stand all the love and affection he received from his dad. But despite all the love that Satoru had for his son, you were number one. You come first, you are his wife and the mother of his child. When his son will leave, you will be the one he gets to spend the rest of his time with–and when he decided to marry you, a child wasn’t even in the picture.

So he will be damned if he was just going to stand there and let his son talk to you like that.

You freeze when you feel a sudden surge of cursed energy–you knew your husband when he got angry, it clouded over the rational part of his brain. So when you see him start to walk upstairs where his son is, you have to physically grab his arm to stop him. Thank god the infinity was off.

“Satoru– toru! Baby!”

“Who the fuck does he think he is, huh?” His eyes are glowing. You really shouldn’t have played this prank on him.

“It’s a prank baby.” 

“A prank?” It’s fascinating how this man can go from 0 to 100 back to 0 so quickly. He calms down so fast, glancing at the top of the stairs where he sees his son standing with his hands in his pockets.

“I told her it would be a bad idea.”

“I–hey! I didn’t think it was gonna be this bad,”

“I did,” Ryuu starts to walk down the stairs and past you two. “He’s said it before. He doesn’t play when it comes to people showing you respect, even if it’s his own son.” 

Satoru can only sigh at his son’s words before staring at you. “Don’t do that again.”

“I won’t…But I won’t lie, seeing you riled up like that–”

“I’m too old to have a sibling!”

༉‧₊˚. GETO SUGURU

Your girls were a giggly mess. You shush them before saying very loudly.

“In what world is this acceptable?” 

“Mom,” your daughter, Tsukimi, feigns an annoyed tone, refusing to look up from her phone. “I really don’t care.”

“But I do.” You stand over her bed, motioning for her twin sister to get into the role as well.

“Does it matter?” Asahi uses the same annoyed, bored tone. One that quickly catches Suguru’s attention. He walks into the main area from the garage before hearing the argument upstairs. 

Quickly wiping his hands with the dirty rag attached to his pants, he starts to make his way up to your twin daughters’ room to see what it was about. 

“Of course it does, I’m your mother.”

“You’re really just pushing it.”

“You sneaked out last night! Do you know how disappointed your father will be?” Suguru freezes up at the revelation. But he doesn’t let his disappointment or anger get the best of him, maybe the four of you can work this out–your girls were at a rebellious age, this was bound to happen and all he needs to do is figure out a way for all of you to get along without–

“Aren’t you supposed to be our best friend or something?” Tsukimi sits up on the bed, furrowing her eyebrows in a way that reminds you how similar her and her father’s features are. 

“Right now I’m your mother.” 

“Oh would you just shut up?”

A loud slam makes the three of you flinch, and you turn to find Suguru standing by the door looking as angry as a raging bull.

“Who said it.”

“Wha–”

“Who said it. Who was it?” He is so furious you could see steam coming out from the top of his head. “Have you lost your fucking minds to be talking to your mother like that? Did I fail at educating you or what?”

“Suguru–”

“No,” he puts a hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you out of the room. “I need to talk to them.”

“No wait, listen–”

“I don’t want to hear it.” When you see that he had a stern look on his face, you realize that you need to save your daughters from the prank.

“It was a prank. I promise you.” 

“It really was a prank,” your twin daughters are sitting on the same bed, looking as sheepish and as guilty as ever. 

“And it was my idea,” Tsukimi adds. 

“And I didn’t stop her.” Your thumbs trace his cheeks, smiling apologetically at him. “Sorry,” 

Suguru sighs, resting his hands on his hips as he shakes his head.

“Fucking prankters. That almost gave me a heart attack.”

“But admit it, we’re good actresses, right?” Asahi asks with a grin and Suguru chuckles before ruffling her hair.

“Yeah, you sure are.”

➜ ┊: COMMISSIONS | KOFI

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[suguann]

tags. fem!reader, boss/employee relationship, stupidly domestic, little wife kink in there somewhere, nanny reader, single dad gojo, breeding kink [18+ only]

You sometimes find yourself wistfully imagining having a family of your own—a soft and sweet little bundle to cuddle and someone strong and capable (competent) at your side. But you can’t think of the last time you’ve been on a date where that person had the same interest in something more serious than casually sleeping around. 

Nannying seemed like the natural conclusion, especially when you’re still settling in a new city and barely scraping by for rent and student loans for a degree you don’t use. 

You pick up a few jobs just to get a feel for it: parents going away for a honeymoon, a last-minute call-in, a weekend business trip. Then a friend of a friend says she makes enough to afford one of those picturesque apartments that overlook tall high-rises and iridescent lights, the very ones you’ve dog-eared in real-estate magazines.

All it takes are a few phone calls and an interview until you’re packing up your apartment and taking the freeway outside of the city to somewhere remote and expensive, your car looking almost out of place parked beside the shiny new one in the long driveway.

You rap on the front door before you lose your nerve, and a few moments later, it opens, and you’re unsure who looks more out of place: this man with a smile too big, dressed for work, immaculate suit dampened by the baby rag slung over his shoulder and what looks like drool on his crisp collar, or you in your scuffed shoes and second-hand store clothes, standing in front of the nicest house you’ve ever seen.

“The nanny?”

“Yes,” you mutter, licking your lips. “That’s me.”

“Good, Ren just woke up from his nap,” he says, opening the door a little wider with a creak. The darkness behind him is almost comforting.

You take a deep breath and pass over the threshold into his home.

The entire time, his hand stays on the small of your back to steer you toward the nursery, and a shiver threatens up the length of your spine.

Three months. That’s how long it takes before your employer poses a problem.

It’s not that he’s a terrible boss; in fact, he’s quite the opposite. He lets you take over one of the many spare rooms in his massive house, pays you double the regular rate, and gives you time off when you ask for it.

It also helps that Ren is cute, only a year old, and still so sweet and tiny. 

Perfect.

The problem lies in that you know what he sounds like first thing in the morning, that he knows how you like your coffee, that he helps you fold laundry in the living room while the baby naps, how you catch him staring anytime you hold his son—his expression shuttered, a foreign thing that you can’t read. It’s all so terribly domestic. 

Terrible in that you think it’s a horrible idea to develop a crush on your boss, that you can’t help but get flustered anytime he so much as looks your way, even if it’s fleeting. How a sleepy smile before he retires to his room for the night can turn your thoughts into a scattered, ill-defined mess of what they used to be until all that’s left are words like spun sugar melting on your tongue.

But also, it’s not normal, at least not from your experience. 

You were lucky in the past if your employer even wanted to know about their kid’s day. Barely saying hello once they walk through the front door before sending money to your bank account.

Satoru—because that’s what he asked you to call him one afternoon while you were in the middle of feeding Ren mashed banana, a lazy smile curling the edges of his lips after you say it for the first time—wants to know everything: what Ren ate, if he laughed, how your day was, if you finally got your hands on that book you’ve been meaning to buy. 

“You don’t have to ask about my day,” you tell him shyly, accepting the glass of wine he proffers you after spending the past hour trying to put a teething baby to bed. “To make me feel better, that is.”

“Would it be so bad if I said I want to? You live here, too.”

You try to separate the two: that he cares as your employer and not for any other reason, and how you sometimes catch the soft look in his eye whenever he looks at you could make you believe otherwise.

Cool fingers cup your chin gently, thumb caressing the top of your cheek, now close enough that you catch a few of the warm notes of his cologne, a move that’s probably very inappropriate between a boss and an employee.

“I never say anything I don’t mean.”

You swallow, nodding, slightly shaky, breath caught in your chest. “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He retreats to his office before witnessing how those two words knock the wind out of you.

He starts saying things like our shopping list, our car—because he gave you the keys to the SUV parked beside his car and hasn’t touched it since; for you and the baby, he said, plus it’s terrible on gas when I drive it to work—our house, our baby. You don’t think he means to do it; it's more of an easy slip in conversation.

But then, one morning, he’s rushing around the kitchen, hair still damp and smelling like his shampoo, as he grabs his coffee and briefcase from the counter, kissing Ren’s forehead first…and then yours.

You’re half convinced that you imagined it—that his lips hadn’t stayed there for a second longer than necessary—until he straightens his tie and heads out for the day with a ‘be good’ tossed over his shoulder, and you’re left wondering if he meant to say that to you or Ren.

It sets off a chain reaction of thoughts whirling away in your head, leaves you wanting and wondering—only ever allowing yourself to fantasize a little when the house is quiet and dark, the baby monitor humming on your nightstand, and images of your boss flit behind closed eyelids as you fit your hand underneath your soft sleep shorts.

In the morning, you worry he can tell what you did, his smile almost too sharp, too something—more teasing than what you’re used to—his hand resting on your lower back as he leans down to kiss Ren’s chubby cheek while you make breakfast.

“I have a meeting this afternoon, so I’ll be late. Want me to pick up some food on the way home?”

No, you think, there’s no way he knows.

You spend most of the morning cleaning and folding the array of graphic onesies Satoru has a penchant for dressing Ren in, and the later half walking around the pool because it’s warm and Ren enjoys splashing around in the water. It’s enough to tucker him out for bed early, unable to keep his eyes open while eating a plate of mashed potatoes.

It’s also the first time in weeks that you have the night to yourself, no baby keeping you busy, no Satoru to—well.

After a long shower, you step out of the bathroom, moving into the hallway. And there are many reasons why you felt confident walking the few steps it took to reach your bedroom. Most revolve around what Satoru told you that morning, so you don’t expect him to be standing there, shirtsleeves rolled up, piercing gaze sliding down the length of you wrapped in a towel and little else.

“I brought home those drunken noodles you like,” he says when his eyes focus back on your face, his whole expression softening into a smile.

A beat. “Thank you,” you whisper, unable to look away.

He tucks the wet strands of hair clinging to your cheek behind your ear. “Why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll join you downstairs?”

The noise in your brain goes static.

You’re unsure what causes it, but everything changes when he comes home early one afternoon and finds you and the baby napping in the nursery. He has this soft look on his face and something else you can’t decipher with his piercing blue eyes settled firmly on you.

Ren coos softly into your shoulder. 

When Satoru picks him up and settles him in the crib, then walks you to your room—here, let me help you—and when he hovers in your doorway, you let him in without question.

He doesn’t waste any time peeling off your clothes, eager to have you naked and splayed out underneath him. You cum on his tongue more times than you can count until you’re silently begging him to fuck you.

He laughs, large hands spread over your tummy. 

“Use your words, baby. I’m not a mind reader.”

You feel like you’re someone else watching you from somewhere else, another body rocking against the length of your boss’s cock, back arching every time you manage to find the friction you need. He’s hard against your back, thick in a way that makes you wonder if he did enough to stretch you out. 

“I-I want—”

All other thoughts are obliterated by the stretch and press of him against your cunt. 

“Think I’m going to keep you,” he rasps, lips dragging over your throat. “Keep this drippy little cunt spread open on my desk whenever I want while the baby naps. Would you like that? For me to fuck you full until you give me a baby.”

You clench, nerves shot.

“Gonna get all round with my baby, stay here forever,” he mumbles when he draws away, and you can’t tell if the words are meant for you to hear or slip out without him realizing. “Fuck—breed my little wife until it takes—”

Your eyes roll up, lost in the little promises he paints across your skin, body shivering over and over until you’re sobbing from it until he has to clamp a hand down over your mouth—shh, you’re going to wake the baby—going limp when he finally cums, pressing as deep as your body will allow, as if he can somehow imprint himself there. 

Wonders if maybe he’s been building up to this moment all along. 

It’s so easy to lay there after, blissed out while he litters kisses across your face and collarbones, letting him lift your hips up to slide a pillow underneath, even though the position is awkward when he tries to cuddle you afterward.

His fingers draw shapes on your stomach, giving you a wistful look, like he can’t believe he’s laying here with his cum still dripping between your thighs—no matter how many times he scoops it up and pushes it back inside you. “Do you think it’ll take?”

And you don’t have the heart to tell him about the little foil packet of pills tucked away in your nightstand.