#some times you need to go back to your root to figure out the shapes of things

[the-lavender-clown]

Little human SOP!Donnie doodle I did traditionally because I feel like I haven’t been drawing his human form right for a little bit

[krahk]

Blood for Ruin

(Or, Alastor and That One Time He Got Drunk and Forgot He Tried To Make a Black Magic Agreement With a Radio Only For It to Come Back to Him in the Worst Way)

Pairings: Alastor x Reader (She/Her/OFC) as reluctant semi-soulmates via non-consensual deal (on both ends). No use of Y/N.

I understand he is aroace, but I couldn’t stop thinking about this idea so here it is.

Eventual smutty smut happening, but be kind dear god am I rusty.

_________________________________________

Exhausted was simply not what you were - you were so past that, your brain so fried out that you didn’t even know what word you were.

Because if you were seeing smiling figure-like shadows on the walls with long dark tendrils wrapping around your surroundings, and radio static from nowhere, then yea. You were fried.

But hey, it had been a crazy long weekend. You’d just spent the last 4 days cleaning up your hoarder of a great aunts shack in the Bon Temps bayou with the other scattered remainder of her family, rooting through about 4 unidentifiable rooms with confirmed animal carcasses and straight up trash-garbage piled to the ceilings. But since your mother died, any family connection at this point was appreciated, right?

‘Couldn’t be more wrong, but it’s too late now’, you think. It was way too late to back out now, you had something to prove. Your Great Aunt’s remaining son had called you ‘slicker’ because you lived in a town with more than one lighted intersection for Christ's sake. And because you used ‘whom’ in a sentence, that opened up an entirely new thrush of nicknames from your distant cousins. You wouldn’t be beaten down, you guys were almost all done with the cleanup anyway, the only remaining items being that of actual use or salvageable material. A couple family members had taken a few items home already, and since you weren’t particularly close with these relatives you weren’t about to ask for anything until-

Well until the little radio was brought out.

For some reason, the craftsmanship of this radio caught your eye. It was a beautiful dark wood, with intricate swirls carved around the speakers - the entire thing was shaped like a miniature church cathedral window. It was clearly vintage, basically a historical piece, you thought - and you did ask quietly if you could keep it. Your uncle fiddled with it to make it work but it needed some attention. It looked virtually untouched otherwise. It was a gorgeous piece, and it looked like it was a new acquisition to the deceased woman’s collection - there wasn’t a spec of dust visible on it. Your uncle figured it wouldn’t be able to pick up football (and also “why would I listen to football when I can WATCH it?”) he let you take it with you.

So you brought it back to your temporary home, the little motel at the outskirts of town (the only motel even close to the town) and set it on the little desk. And there it sat for 2 days before you finally dove in, trying to figure out what was going on with it. You had deduced it was likely the wiring, and after watching 5 or 6 videos on wiring repair on YouTube (good old YouTube) you were fairly confident a simple repair would take no time at all.

But things made in the 20s were a lot sharper, and more metal based, compared to the newer plastic models of recent years. So when you undid the back panel and attempted to unscrew a fastener around the side of the main component, you had successfully sliced your palm open on an errant piece of metal. And holy crow did it hurt AND gush blood immediately. Even though you had whipped your hand close to your chest almost as soon as you realised what had happened it was too late, there was a fair amount of blood that got on the inside of the machine.

Uttering curses, you’d rushed to the bathroom to grab a couple threadbare cloths and sop up some of the larger drops on the desk. Moving around the radio to the light, you had a clearer idea of where your blood landed. Palming one cloth in your wounded hand, your other one attempted to clean up the mess within the radio. Which is where you noticed the funny little symbols written on the inside of the back panel of the radio, which had lain facedown on the desk as soon as you had removed it. These little symbols looked like runes of some sort, unidentifiable to you. They almost looked like they were written out of blood themselves. It was clearly dried now, but the jagged nature of the strokes and brownish un-ink like material that was used to leave the symbols certainly looked like dried blood might look like on old wood.

You wiped your blood off the radio, and ran the cloth right over one of the runes, making it glow briefly with a green light. Maybe.

Well, that was what you thought you saw. But it was so brief you would have missed it with a well timed blink. The sun was setting, light streaming through the window in hazy little streaks, maybe you saw some prismatic effect? Or maybe, maybe you needed a shower and bed. Clearly if you sliced your hand open on a little radio you were tired. Sloppy coordination indeed. You reattached the back panel to the radio and decided to ignore it until you were in a better headspace.

Radio abandoned, you went and started to clean yourself up and get ready for sleep. But when the lights in the bathroom started to flicker, only to stay on slightly duller than before, paired with a strange static that scratched the inside of your eardrums, you decided to end your shower quicker than ever. Exiting the bathroom, you were chilled to realise that the main room had the same ambient experience waiting for you. And if you focused on the moving shadows from what you hoped were passing cars (electric, judging by the lack of engine noise) there was a solid larger mass lingering on the wall with the dresser and broken TV. One that looked like it had a smile, and glowing red eyes (from a car's tail lights, duh!). Yes, yes. Tired. SO tired.

Calling the front did not help, since the static was so loud when you lifted up the receiver you slammed it back down. Your own cell phone was still charging on the side table, flashing the little dead battery symbol to let you know you needed to be more responsible with your charging habits in the future. It could be another 15 minutes before it was ready to turn on.

So, obviously tired, it was time to attempt to sleep. Hopefully. If you were lucky. It wasn’t enough that the bayou was creepy all on its own, the evening took a sharp turn into scary-town after you started messing with the little radio.

Pyjama-clad and ready to sleep you decided that the hallucinations were exactly what you thought they were - hallucinations and nothing more. Nothing spooky, or supernatural, or dangerous.

But you had been wrong before.

It was the initial crashing sound of the motel room door hitting the wall that woke you up first, screaming male voices really kicking your brain into high alert as you scrambled out of bed. Ending up in the corner facing the opposite corner where the door was, you took in what was happening. 2 men, yelling at you for whatever you had - but you were screaming louder than they were, scrambling for anything in your grasp - just that stupid, fucking radio - but judging by the hot impact of a projectile hitting your chest they were not thrilled you weren’t immediately cooperating. Hand clenching around the radio’s cord you hit the corner and slumped down to the floor, lungs burning and immense pain taking over your consciousness. As your mind faded, you could hear the two men bickering, freaking out over the turn their burglary took. Oh, you being shot was an accident? Stellar. Your vision became hazy, it even looked like shadows were overtaking the men as their arguing turned into painful screaming. Whoever came to your aid was simply too late, though you could appreciate the gesture as you died.

You always thought that you would end up looking down at your dying body when the time came, but from the forceful pull downwards your soul felt, it was clear the afterlife had different plans for you.

Now you weren’t really sure what the hell, like actual, literal, hell, was going on. The impact you felt from your sharp tug into the afterlife, landing on a very detailed rug at what looked like the lobby of a hotel was one thing. The tiny radio following your fall shortly after, merely denting a corner of the wood with a loud thunk was another, cord still clenched in your hand. Oh good!

Dazed, you were immediately hoisted up and hugged - yes hugged - by probably the tallest women you had ever met, and the fastest talking one as well. Rambling about “welcome”, “hell rehab”, something or other about redemption - honestly the look of relief you gave the shorter woman who approached and reined in the other made her smirk as she introduced them in a much clearer manner.

Vaggie and Charlie. Vaggie was a resident of the hotel with her girlfriend, the owner and operator of this ‘Hazbin Hotel’, Charlie, both working at redeeming the souls of sinners and getting them into heaven. There were 2 residents, Angel & Sir Pentious, who were not present, a Janitor Nifty (currently wiping your landing spot with a cloth) the bartender, an angry bird-cat man Husk, and the host (also missing) Alastor. Your open mouthed confusion clearly made Charlie snap into attention (finally) because she finally morphed into a being that was capable of conversation.

“So, new to hell?” She inquired.

Well. Duh. “Um yes. I think I was just shot? Am I actually dead?” You asked, hopeful this was a very vivid nightmare.

“As a doornail!” She exclaimed, chipper with positive energy, “Not that doornails are dead, they don’t have souls like you or Angel but really-”

“Yes. You’re dead. And a sinner, which is why you’re here.” Vaggie cut in, patting Charlie on the back. Charlie smiled brightly and nodded at you.

“Yes, and here you can redeem yourself and hopefully make it to heaven! I have faith in our program.”

Oh god this was too much. The sound of a door opening and closing was faintly heard in the background, but that didn’t stop you from being a speedy spiral into mania.

“So. One, I’m dead. Two, why am I in hell I am pretty sure I was a decent human? I didn’t go to church, sure, but I had very little control over my working schedule. Three, is it supposed to be so freaking loud down here? I’m-“

Intense breathing interrupted - yes, breathing. It was the janitor, her one eye staring at you while she lifted the little radio. ”This is diiiirty” she semi-sang. A horrific giggle was lingering under her breath. You grimaced at her behaviour and dropped the cord immediately, avoiding any contact by proxy with this creature. What a creepy little -

“Did that come with you?” Charlie asked, looking confused as you answered with a nod. “Strange, usually possessions don’t follow a soul into the afterlife…” She trailed off, finger tapping her chin with a frown. Everyone turned to look at the manic janitor essentially vibrating with the radio in her hands.

“Interesting! What has inspired us all to gather this fine evening?”

”Alastor!” Charlie greeted an individual behind you. ”This might be our newest resident…she’s just arrived!” Her hands wildly gestured from you to whoever was behind you. You could see the shadow of the person on the floor, stretching into a long figure that looked vaguely familiar. You were certain your eyes were burning a hole into the carpet beneath the shadow. If the shadow was this frightening what exactly was behind you? The shadow appeared to smile wider as you stared at it.

“Hmm!” Alastor, you supposed, responded. “What an exciting new development why - Oh!” Something had caught his attention. He walked towards the janitor, and you glanced at the back of his figure as he walked past you towards the tiny creature. He was tall, very tall, and slender. There was an ominous presence around him, even the nature of his clothing was fashioned in a way that seemed off. It was unnerving. Broad shoulders tapered into a very slim waistline, his jacket flared out behind him in a style reminiscent of a different time. Head to toe red and black, which was also just…something else. But the other patrons also had an interesting approach to their wardrobes as well, save the 2 women. Maybe that was just…how it was here.

“Now where did you find this delightful little item, Nifty?” He said, his profile coming slightly into your view. Dear god, terrifying. You couldn’t even begin to describe his appearance. Chills ran down your back, and suddenly you remembered you were still in very thin pajamas.

“Eh-hehe a dirty radio sir!” She answered, thrilled with herself. “it came with our new guessst” her eye switching from the tallest, creepiest creature you had ever set your eyes upon to your gaze. You swear you could hear the bones crack in the man's neck as he fired his gaze to yours. You were trapped.

“Is that so?” He began to slowly walk towards you, the room filling with a static hum similar to what you felt in the motel room, your skin tingling as he got closer. It was getting harder to hear the others try and talk to the approaching figure, the hum was getting louder.

“And what,” he started, “are you doing with my Radio, my dear?” His eyes were radio dials at this point, sharp jagged teeth glowing alongside them as his head tilted in an inhuman manner, the cracking from before louder than before.

What? Oh for fucks sake. Fuck your backwater, bayou-residing, rude, nasty, hoarder family-

As your eyes rolled back into your head, your body went limp and you hit the foyer carpet. Hard. For the second time that night

**

Part One : Part Two : Part Three : Part Four

[heartfullofleeches]

You've got mail!

Alt title: Single Ghost babes in your area

Yan Chain-Letter Entity + Amab/G.N "Loser" Reader [smut, mdni]

[Tags: light horror elements, masturbation, tit fucking]

-

!WARNING!

Now that you've read this, there is no going back.

The woman in this photo was a young bride getting for her big day. Following traditions of her new family, she was forced to wear her veil the entire week predating the ceremony, and quite unhappy with her situation. Her marriage was arranged and she had yet to fall for her new husband. She begged for a way out, help given in the form a voice from the shadows offering to change her appearance the night before her wedding. When her husband and in-laws saw her new face the next day - they all went mad from terror. This image is the only picture of her face and she'll do anything to keep it hidden.

Send this message to eight people in seven days, or she'll visit you at midnight on the final day."

"...."

"... hear me out..."

The air stills - warranted caution to keep your big mouth shut where input was not needed - or wanted.

"Why is she hot?..."

A collective, drawn out groan harmonizes from those plagued by your company.

"..what the actual fuck is wrong with you?"

Below the totally scary and terror inducing text was a photo of a woman shrouded in darkness. Part of her dark outline rooted from the shadowy grey veil draping to her long, thin neck, and waist-length jet black hair framing her pale, ashen skin. Her sunken eyes and mouth agap in a silent scream stretched the cloth against her hollow cheeks - small, white irises fainty visible from her empty sockets and the veil that hide them. The same white eyes your friend had alleged to have been staring them back at them when they looked in the mirror all week.

As unsettling as the picture was to most in your group, your eyes had settled on the more pleasant sight of her shapely figure shown off in the tightly fitted, lacey gown she wore.

"What?! I can't be the only one that noticed how huge her tits are! I hate when people make these cheesy attempts to scare you, and the monster that's supposed to be sooo scary is just some ghost. You can't even really see her face in the first place!"

"God, how do we put up with you... Just make sure you send that back to the rest of us before you leave."

The bulk of your collective friend group had gathered to comfort the unfortunate soul who received the email, and squander their fears by sending it between one another to meet the chain letter's rule. You tagged along for the offer of free lunch, and now that you've gotten your meal you're ready to head home and avoid meeting these people again with the exception of an online space. You stand up from the table, tucking your phone into your back pocket.

"Yea, yea I'll do it when I get home."

"Y/n..."

"I said I'll do it later. I promise, as soon as I get through the door I'll do it."

-

11:58....

11:59....

12..

Opening your eyes, you expect to find angry, sunken eyes staring back, but all you see is the blank white wall of your ceiling. A week ago, you sorta forgot about the whole chain letter scare by the time you made it home, and only remembered minutes before the deadline upon realizing how pathetic it'd look if you died with your dick in your hands when you opened a new priva tab on your laptop. As figured, not a damn thing happened upon the stroke of midnight and quite frankly you felt it must've just been some stupid prank by your friends after not hearing a word from any of them during that time frame. You guessed there'd be no hot ghost chick to cause your untimely demise this time - but it never hurt to make sure.

"Gee, I sure hope a sexy ghost doesn't pop out to kill me right as I pull down my sweatpants. That would sure suck, and the embarrassment alone would probably end me!"

Nothing. You reopen your laptop with a heavy sigh. "Welp- Since I'm still alive, guess it's back to tonight's scheduled plans."

Tugging one hand into the waist of your sweats, you pull up one of your usual sites for quality adult content - scouring for the right material to fit the mood. Alot of good choices, but strangely every thumbnail you clicked lead to a dead link. You switch to multiple sights, but the same thing just kept happening. Frustrated, you don't bother wasting time looking at the preview of a message sent by one of your friends as you scroll. If they could wait this long to text you, they could wait a little longer for you to respond.

Ready to throw in the towel and let your imagination work its magic - you finally manage to get a stream open through sheer determination and miscellaneous presses.

"Finally...." You push your sweats past your thighs as the video opens on a woman sitting on a bed. The room is too dark to see most of her, but the camera and lighting was centered on all you needed to see to pull out your swelling length. The woman's flowing gown hugged the plump flesh of her thighs, rolling up to her hips - and revealing the of her transparent fabric of her underwear as she parted her legs slowly. She removes one strap from her shoulder, long hair falling over her breasts as she contorted to better fit her face into frame.

Head crashing into your pillow with a small groan, you fist your cock to the woman's beautiful image and thought of her large tits in placement of your palm. Your hand could only mirror a fraction of their softness and you whine as your thumb pressing the tip, picturing plush lips closing around you as you came. Your entire being yearned to paint her pretty face and chest in your release - narrowly avoiding the unnatural whites of her eyes at the intensity and build up of your climax left your own body out of your control.

Peeling your eyes open for the second time, the speed of your hand slows as you start to get the odd feeling of being watched. Looking back at the screen, the woman stares back, appearing directly in front of the camera as cold sweat breaks down your neck. Her fingers slither along the glass, reaching through your monitor as your eyes widen in horror. You scream- throwing the laptop as far from your person as you coward against the bedframe. It lands, screen upwards feet from your bed. Loud cracks and snaps play from the speakers as the woman pulls herself free with janky, articulated movements. Her gown falls down to her knees and her veil washes over her face as she climbs to her feet.

You pull your blankets over your shamefully, almost painfully hard dick as you raise your hands in defeat. "Please don't kill me! I'll send the messages right now, for real!'

The woman cocks her head to one side - eyes shrinking as you cover yourself.

"Don't hide...."

She crawls over your quivering legs, gripping at the end of her veil.

"I've taken on so many face - yet, none of them have ever been called attractive before.... Tell me..."

The room light's flicker as she pulls the veil upwards - slowly revealing the dark void where her face used to be. Thin claw marks drew from the intact flesh of her cheeks and jaw to the permanent shadows gouging her features dug deep as if whatever had done this to her had taken more than just her face. The pearly points of her teeth and the whites of her eyes were all that remained of her mortal beautiful. Shaking in fear, your body betrays your fright as your cock jumps watching her drag her tongue over her sharp rows of teeth.

"Do you think I'm beautiful now?...."

At lost for words, you dip your head in reply - eventually squeaking through a strained voice. "You're the hottest ghost that's ever been in my room.

The woman's body writhes with a full body shutter as she takes the blanket in her hands. "Let's see that I'm the only person in your bedroom... living or otherwise."

You hiss from the cool air enveloping your cock as the entity tears the last shield protecting your shred of dignity away. It not like the had much to begin with, but sleeping with the ghost that most likely killed your friends definitely took whatever was left. Her heated breath fans your skin as your cock springs from your shorts and against her cheek. Turning her head, your muscles lock as her sharp teeth come to contact with the head of your penis. There's some give before them, lips hidden by the shadows of her face puckered around your weeping tip as an impossible long snakes from between the two and spirals down your girth as her breasts spill from her tightly fitted top.

Cradling an arm beneath them, the ghost woman sandwiches cards your dick between her breasts. Her tongue, still working around you, provides lubrication - and lewd suction as she bounces the weight of her large tits in your lap. The tip of her tongue grazes your balls and you feel them tighten as you rock your hips into the supple flesh of her chest. Her tongue squeezes at your increasing pulse and her veil falls back in place as she to uses both hands to better assist her assault on your pulsing dick.

You tangle your hand through her hair, cock swallowed by her breasts and plump lips. Your other gropes at her tits, toying with her nipples as hitched gasps and the growing sloppiness of your thrusts signed your peak. The coil in your lower abdomen breaks right as she pulls her lips from your swollen head, using her tongue, face and breasts to catch the milky fluid that pumps from you in thick spurts. The white streaks contrast the dark silhouette of her face and as she looks up at you, you use a discarded blanket to wipe some of it away before collapsing on your mattress in a sweaty, panting heap.

The cotton touch of your pillow is placed with soft flesh as the woman crawls beside you in bed and pulls you closer to her. She brushes hair away from your clammy forehead, raising her veil to kiss your skin as your arms fall around her.

"Sleep now, my love... We'll play more once you've gotten some rest. I look forward to all the things we'll do in the future. I'm sorry about your friends, but I seem to be more of the jealous type..."

You fight off the spell of exhaustion to shrug lazily with a reply that makes your new wife smile from ear to ear.

"Eh.... fuck 'em, it was worth it."

[cuethediscoandthedrinks]

some random nsfw + sfw jake sully hcs~

bc we all need derpy jake. and sexy jake. here u go 🤭

sfw~

• lovessssss massages. any kind, but always receiving them. if you ask, he'll give them to you, but he's more for lightly tracing your skin, or feeling you up as opposed to concerted massages

• but for jake? lie that 8ft catboy down, get massaging on his shoulderblades or thighs, and he's now pretty much putty in your hands. he'll agree to almost anything, and probably fall asleep before you're even done

• loves playing tag. he's a grown-ass na'vi, but also a delinquent who's still not over the concept of having working legs; so ask that boy to chase you and he'll get right on it

• he has a lot of surplus energy, so weaving through the thick undergrowth, batting away stray leaves and prancing between aged roots is his jam. he especially loves the little excited giggles you let out as you prance away, or the sound of your quickened heartbeat when he's sneaking up on you as you hide in some shrubbery, or behind a big tree trunk and let's not lie, this 100% leads to a good ole' playful fuck

• still spanks plants. he loves to see them glow or change shapes because in spite of the abs and daddie energy, jake's still a literal manchild

• is an avid big-talker. during conversations, or when you're in the midst of fixing a broken object or making a plan, jake'll absentmindedly interrupt with lowkey the dumbest advice or idea lmao.

• less so when he's in charge of the plan, bc then he's really in the headspace. but if he's sort of on the listening-side, he struggles a lot with not just blurting out random stuff that pops into his head

• it's because of his adhd vibe really; he can barely pay attention unless you're looking him dead in the eyes, so what he assumes is a great method is in actuality a half-baked response to about one third of the actual conversation you just had

• makes a little 'heheh' noise when he works out a problem. oddly, things like saving communities and flying an ikran don't stimulate this response; instead finally getting the knot right on his loincloth, fixing the end of his broken bow or squeezing through a super tight space between two thick roots will get him all giddy

• either eats fucking loads, or nibbles. some days he'll barely eat anything, but maybe sneak-eat some of your prepared meal while you're distracted

• other days jake'll go unusually quiet, disappear, and then come back with a huge bowl of food just to plop down and eat the entire thing in one sitting, barely batting an eye and then undoubtedly have a tummy ache bc guess what's not the vibe? eating 11 whole fruits in one sitting with no breaks

• can't for the life of him remember sacred omaticayan sayings when he needs to. he almost always needs you to remind him about 10-20 seconds max before he has to say them, or he forgets again; him blanking on the respectful greeting of a different clan leader has def happened at least twice lmao

• does a happy jig when he finds the right route back to your home. when you've been out all day hunting, foraging or just exploring, he'll ofc forget where you actually came from. and if you're not an instinctual navigator, you two will be lost for some time, ngl. but once he figures out where to go, he'll kick a foot or do a micro-jump at the victory

• once flew his ikran so fast that his eyepiece slipped over his eyes and nearly killed him and his dragon. he like bejewelled it with new things one time, and felt the need to brag about it but didn't account for the excess weight. after the ordeal he elected to never tell anyone this, but has since not worn the eyepiece again lmao

nsfw~

• is a sucker for cleavage. he dgaf about the size, but irrespective of the place, the energy or the amount of seconds between having just fucked, he's still getting like just-seen-tits-for-the-first-time kind of flustered; he actually won't make any remarks or anything, but he'll do the classic double-take and maybe smirk a bit bc innately he's still a doe-eyed perv

• def has a foot fetish; and now that he's a huge blue boy, it's only increased. bigger feet, better colors, and as a bonus, they glow now. you can expect him to lift a leg up mid-missionary thrust and begin leaving hot open-mouthed kisses to the arch of your foot; sliding his warm, wet tongue along each of the digits too, some desperate, chesty moans escaping his partially-open mouth

• jake's a bit slutty. it's not unusual to associate jake sully with the himbo cliche, of course. but even more than that is his inclination to being just a little bit more provocative than necessary in situations;

• letting out a wanton groan from merely opening a tightly-sealed object, sitting with his legs spread, usually a hand resting on his dick, loves to stick his tongue out and/or lick his lips when he's thinking, etc. the majority of it isn't even on purpose, he just happens to have these ticks and make these noises although some of it def is ofc; no one doesn't mean to moan if they do it while they yawn

• has sought out sex pollen to use for the both of you before. he was initially a bit hesitant, but once he realised that it wasn't some pandoran viagra, but rather magic mushrooms that also up the horny to 120%, he was more than down

• has a size kink; specifically with his dick, but anything turns him on if it's got a size difference - his broad blue chest, his large hands that rake up and down your smaller body, or maybe his toned thighs that flex underneath your aching pussy as you grind down onto him. but his dick is his favorite

• when you squeal and writhe underneath him because it's just too big, it only inflates his ego; unlike someone more sadistic or dominant, jake'll take his time in stretching you out and coaxing all of that slick wetness from your pussy, all the while smirking in amusement and delight at your squirming

• he'll leave little cock taps on your entrance, or smear his throbbing blue length along your lips, and rub his bulbous reddened tip onto your swollen clit in tight circles; all in aims to eventually bottom out inside your wet warmth and clenching walls

• moves around a lot when you have sex. not like, the usual thrusting kind of moving, but straight-up fidgeting. things like moving his hands, needing to readjust something, his hair getting in the way, or a cramp/something spiky underneath his back bothering him are all pretty common

• secretly wants you to play with his balls more often during oral. he's a lil shy bean sometimes, and will most often emphasise his preferences in bed, but outside is a different story really; he just rlly wants you to but doesn't want to pressure you

• one time on an especially fruity date in the forest, after having eaten picnic-style under a large willow-like tree, you just began to touch yourself. that wasn't even the best part; the best part for him was when you rubbed your pussy into the grass

• for some reason that really stuck with jake; just the innate sexuality and eroticism of it. seeing your hips gyrate into the soft blades, grass becoming glossy and almost sticking together from your arousal. it seemed so natural for you, that it begged the question - had you done this before?? and if so, how many times? and why had he not been privy to this until just now?

• that made him the hardest he'd been in a long time. ever since that sunny afternoon, jake kept it as a class A spankbank memory. so now when he's roughly tugging and fisting his thick, swollen blue cock right towards release, the thought of you writhing in front of him on that patch of lush, green grass pushes him to orgasm every time

hope u enjoyed lovelies!

[trungles]

Processing Process, and More Processing

I made this post free and publicly readable on Patreon, but I'm reposting the whole thing right here too because, well, it's a free post, and I don't want to make you click away from your dashboard if you don't need to. But also if you want to support my work, here's the link to the post.

It's a little bit about cartooning, a little bit about drawing, and then it turns into a eulogy for a chicken.

I wrote “process” more than once, and now the word looks funny and is beginning to lose its meaning to me.

This post is about a few things, and it’s a little bit on the sad end of things. Nothing dire! No worries. There’s just a little mention of death, just as a heads up.

Before we get to that, though, I’ve been doing some work and had some thoughts.

I’m often asked about how I draw the noodle hair on my characters, and the answer is typically that I draw each and every line with my hand. But there are considerations of movement and volume that go into it beyond its texturally decorative purposes. I love being able to convey shape and motion with it. It’s less evident, I think, in my illustration work, but I think it’s much more obvious when I do sequential work. In the above image, you can see me working out a sequence of Angelica having a series of thoughts. Her head sort of moves, and her eyes follow. You can see I’d planned out the general shape of the hair and how I’d like it to move.

I wound up moving the drawings a little bit so that the readers eyes will actually follow the character’s eyes as it moves gently rightward on the page. The hair is there to accentuate the movement, like so:

It’s a consideration I employ in all my drawings, but especially when I’m drawing hair and fabric. I don’t use a lot of action lines, so this becomes an important way to give the reader the information that someone is moving through a space. Resistance, gravity, and motion are all things I have to keep in the back of my head when I’m doing these little drawings. I think the planning actually takes more time than the inking, which can happen pretty quickly once I map it all out.

In other news, I’m starting to take my extracurricular artistic development a little more seriously in the silliest way possible.

You wouldn’t know it, but I studied painting college—a medium I switched to after the printmaking professor and head of the Art Department at the time told me I probably shouldn’t be an artist (he gave me a hard candy for my trouble). I recently bought a bunch of little dolls, dressed them up, and am returning to my painting roots. It feels really nice to work in big blobs of color instead of lines. It’s an exercise I came up with in response to a common lament from art students.

One of the more aggravating generational tensions described to me by art school students is when professors describe a student’s portfolio as “too anime” without much explanation. I know what the professor means. They’re trying to get at how referencing your favorite anime or cartoons means that your style becomes a simulacrum, an imperfect copy of a copy, and you never learn to develop your own sense of judgment about where a line or a shape needs to go. And we can tell. It’s a way of working that is perfectly fine for cartooning because cartooning is closer to hand-writing than it is to drawing. I always turn to Charles Schulz’s work for an example. Those figures aren’t literally depicting children—with their little chessboard-pawn proportions and bread-loaf feet—but we read them as endearing children because we’ve come to a consensus between us, the readers, and Charles Schulz, the author, that those shapes mean those things. There are no whiskers or paws in the shape of the word “CAT” but you look at those three letters together, and you know the thing to which it refers. That’s an aspect of cartooning, too. Of course, what elevates it from mere writing is, in part, due to the fact that those little figures do not lose their meaning the more you depict them.

To really draw well, though, you have to do those fundamentals. You have to draw from life. There’s no way around it. It helps you develop a stronger sense of where you like to lay down your lines and shapes, no matter how stylized you like to work. It grows your judgment, and every artist’s best tool is their own well-honed sense of artistic discernment about their own work.

But that doesn’t mean you have to surrender the stuff you like or the things that inspire you to make art! I tell students that if they want to hold fast to their anime style AND hone their fundamentals to develop their eye as an artist, they should buy little figurines and toys of their favorite characters, prop those up against a light source, and draw them as still life objects. Like, yes, do the vases and the figure drawings and all those, I still think those are important. But if this is what you need to keep you interested in drawing from life, having some toys around is a great way to do it! Also, bless those sculptors and toy designers. They’re the best.

I think there’s something to be said about remembering to imagine the physicality of the things we draw, in all its dimensions and in the way it catches the light or casts a shadow. It helps sentimentalize things, too. Makes them feel more real, even emotionally.

Edwina died on Tuesday night, after a few final snuggles, surrounded by her favorite treats. She was about five years old, which is old for a chicken, and she had a very comfortable life. We buried her this morning. She was a good hen, J’s personal favorite.

It really feels like the end of an era. She was the last surviving member of our very first flock. After the other hens died, she really seemed to prefer the company of people over other hens. She is survived by Snooki and Nelly, our two other young birds who get along quite well together, actually.

A baby chick costs between three and five American dollars, typically. An egg-laying hen could be between twenty and fifty bucks, depending on the breed. There are roughly 26 billion chickens living in the world today, about 518 million of them here in the United States. They come pretty cheap. And a part of me was moved to cynicism, entertaining the thought that it might be strange to feel sadly over a little animal that, at most, might be roughly equivalent to the price of a fancy lunch and a coffee.

I watched the 1974 musical version of The Little Prince recently, and I remember it mostly because Bob Fosse was in it and scared the crap out of me as a kid—he played the snake that would take the Little Prince back into the sky when his body gets too heavy to take with him. Gene Wilder plays the Fox whom the Little Prince befriends and tames among a garden of roses. The Fox explains that he is like any other fox in the world, but he is changed—made special and particular to the Little Prince—with time, effort, and patience. So, too, is the Prince’s little flower special to him. Out of all the flowers in the universe, she was the one he watered and protected under a little glass jar. And that’s enough.

I knew my little hen would not live that long. It could be very easy to take a broad view of the life expectancy of a hen and distance myself from it by virtue of its mortality and its commonness. People who raise livestock do it all the time. But I also think it’s wonderful that we should all be capable of loving very small, very brief little things. Edwina is not, to my mind, the rough equivalent of a fancy lunch and a coffee. She was our little hen. For her whole life, she was ours. And I’m so happy she was here.

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

The liaison is turned into a bot! wowza! Oh boy oh boy this must mean they can transform, the whole lost light crew is at least a little excited- except liaison. Why would they want to transform? They just did! into a bot! that's enough change for one day, thank you. unfortunately, since they changed in swerve's bar, some drunk bot had the glorious idea to inflate their glorified booze Capri Sun and burst it, shocking liaison into transforming against their will. How'd Rodimus, Ratchet, Swerve, and Drift try and aid a now transformed liaison who just had a screaming panic attack and has now passed tf out in alt mode in the middle of the bar? I'd imagine getting them calm enough to transform back is going to be hard. your whole damn organs are in a Different place.

-Immediately, Rodimus acts, even if he doesn't understand what's happening at first. To him, and any other cybertronian, transforming into your alt mode is completely natural. Are you unhappy with your alt mode? Is there something wrong with your t-cog? Are you in pain? He's trying to get answers but you're still screaming.

But then Rodimus remembers; you weren't born a cybertronian. You have never transformed before, have barely even gotten used to being in this new metallic body, and now you body has changed yet again!

First things first, he gets you out of Swerve's. Being surrounded by a bunch of overcharged bots won't help you in any way, shape or form. Once he gets you somewhere more isolated he tries to talk to you, calm you down by reminding you that this is not a permanent form, you can turn back into root mode, you just gotta calm down. Rodimus tries to calm you down by talking about a bunch of random, but mundane things to get your mind off your panic.

If this doesn't help then he will call someone like Rung or Ratchet to help you. Even when they arrive, Rodimus stays by your side, not wanting to leave you when you're so clearly in distress.

-Ratchet's first instinct is to get you to the medbay, thinking you're hurt, but he quickly realizes that you're having a panic attack. The trauma of suddenly becoming a cybertronian is still fresh in your mind but as at least as a cybertronian you could find familiarity and comfort in your arms and legs and other features humans share with their metallic kin.

He gets you out of Swerve faster than you can say Gran Cybertronian Taxonomy, but not before he gets a good look at the bot that caused this, making sure to remember who it was so they can be disciplined for it later.

Trying to calm you down, Ratchet places a hand on your alt mode, hoping that his touch will help ground you in reality. He uses a calm and soothing tone as he talks with you, reminding you to activate your vents so you won't overheat. Once he's sure you're focused on what he's saying he gently guides you through how to use your t-cog.

-It takes exactly 3.2 seconds for Swerve to order Ten to get everyone out of the bar. Tell them that the drinks were on the house tonight, whatever will make them leave, he needs them out of here pronto! Swerve knows what a panic attack looks like, though usually he's the one having it, so he knows what's happening to you and it doesn't take a genius to figure out what triggered it. He makes a mental note to ban the patron that forced you to transform into your alt mode.

Calls for Rung immediately but while waiting for the psychiatrist to arrive he still does his best to help you. He's... not that good at it. Watching you having a panic attack makes him panic as well, simply because he feels super worthless for not being able to help you.

Once Rung arrives, Swerve backs off and awkwardly stand in the background. He feels like he shouldn't really be there to watch everything but at the same time he doesn't want to leave because you're his friend and he would feel super shitty if he just left you.

-Drift has you in his arms and halfway to the medbay before anyone can really figure out what's going on. All he hears is that you are screaming and his first instinct is to bring you to Ratchet because Ratchet always makes things better. He might look calm on the outside but inside he's panicking, mind going a thousand miles per hour, trying to understand what's going on.

When he arrives at the medbay Drift finally realizes that you're having a panic attack and he tells Ratchet this. He feels bad for not realizing it sooner and comforting you the way you needed.

Leaves Ratchet with the task of helping you calm down and transform back into root mode, meanwhile he's going to find the idiot that fought it was a good idea to force you to transform and give them a piece of his mind.

[justabigassnerd]

You're Not Alone

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,906

Warnings - lack of eating, talks of body image, angst, fluff

Summary - when you begin to struggle with eating and your body image, Jake is there to help you every step of the way

A/N - just to preface, this fic is NOT part of the Hangman junior universe and any Hangman x daughter!reader fic that isn't explicitly said to be part of the universe is a nice lil' standalone fic. This was a request that got to queue jump a lil because when I read the request I just had to write it sooner because everyone deserves some comfort and love in the form of fics if they so desire. I will also elaborate that most of the detail for this fic came from my own research (which may not be wholly accurate do feel free to educate me if so) and I am not a professional in any way shape or form on this subject matter. And always remember, y'all are never alone <3

You couldn’t pinpoint where it started. But over time, you started to become self-conscious about the way you looked. You’d open your phone and go on Instagram to see all those models showing off their perfect hourglass figures with their boyfriends on their arms, looking equally as perfect. You’d see your friends posting pictures of themselves and you’d admire how pretty they looked before dragging yourself over to your bathroom mirror and pointing out every imperfection you could find of yourself as tears filled your eyes.

Over time, you started to eat less and would spend a lot of your free time working out to try and shape your body to look more like those models you envied so much. You started to withdraw from your friends, trying to avoid the envy you felt seeing them as they walked around with their shorts and crop tops, able to be proud and confident with their looks.

Unknown to you, your dad had picked up on your new behaviours. He noticed how you opted to wear baggier clothing and how you’d spend more time pushing the food around on your plate rather than eating it. Jake, however, knew he couldn’t outright question you because he knew he ran the risk of you clamming up and closing yourself off even more which was the opposite effect he was going for. He carefully observed you from a distance when you were home. He noticed that you weren’t going to your friend's houses as much anymore. Jake used to joke that you spent more time at your friend’s than you did at your own house. The willingness Jake had for you to come to him in your own time flew out the window after you refused to come down for dinner three nights in a row. Jake was beside himself with worry and he just wanted to get to the root of the problem so he could help you.

“y/n/n could we talk?” Jake asked you the second you walked into the house, wanting to catch you before you hid yourself away from him again.

“Dad I’m a little tired. Could we do this tomorrow?” You ask, shrugging your bag off your shoulder and kicking your shoes off.

“No, sorry kid we need to chat.” Jake says, gesturing for you to follow him into the living room and despite your brain screaming at you to head upstairs, you follow your dad and sit down on the sofa near him, a bit of space separating the two of you.

“I want you to know that what I’m about to say right now isn’t being said out of anger or anything like that. I’m just worried about you and I just want to check in with you. Are you okay? And I’d appreciate the honest truth. It’s just us two.” Jake says softly, his eyes never leaving yours. You searched your dad’s eyes for any anger or disappointment but when you found nothing but worry and love in his gaze, you found yourself tearing up.

“I’m sorry.” You manage to say before your voice becomes too wobbly to speak and the tears begin to flow down your cheeks. Jake was quick to pull you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he tucks you into his chest. He rubbed a hand up and down your back while blinking back tears of his own.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about.” Jake whispers as he rocks you back and forth gently to help you calm down. Jake continues to whisper quiet words of reassurance until your sobs have slowed to small sniffles. Even after your tears have slowed, Jake doesn’t force you to speak. He lets you remain curled up in his arms until you’re ready. When you finally feel ready to open up to your dad, you carefully pull away from his embrace, wiping at your eyes with your hoodie sleeve. Again, you study your dad’s expression to search for any judgement but he just watches you softly, waiting patiently for you to speak.

“Recently I’ve started to hate the way I look. My body isn’t perfect enough like those people on Instagram. I want to look as nice as my friends because I feel like they’re embarrassed to be seen with me because of how I look.” You admit quietly, tears springing to your eyes again and Jake gently turns you to face him. Once you’re facing him, he removes his hands from your shoulder and cups your head in his hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs.

“You listen to me carefully sweetheart. There’s no such thing as a perfect body. I know those models on social media flaunt their bodies and make it seem like that’s the only way to be pretty and perfect. The thing is, they’re dead wrong. I know my words probably mean very little to you but I’m going to help you every step of the way with this, okay? Besides, you’re a Seresin it’s practically impossible for you not to be gorgeous.” Jake says, smiling lightly when you giggle softly at his last few words.

“There’s my girl. Tell me what I can do to help.” Jake says softly, wanting to know what he can do to help. He wanted to get the information from you before he even thinks about running off to get advice from someone else.

“I want help starting to eat again but it’s hard. My brain tells me… it tells me not to eat. And if I try to eat I don’t want you to judge me for what I do or don’t eat.” You say quietly, moving your head out of Jake’s hands and moving your gaze down to your hands as you fiddle with your fingers. Jake processes your words quietly before he nods to himself.

“I can do that. Like I said, I’m going to help you as best I can. We’re going to get through this together. You're not alone.” Jake says, smiling at you as you lift your gaze to meet his. Jake then brings you into another hug with you instantly melting in his embrace.

“Do you want to start making dinner with me? I can whip up your favourite. And of course, you don’t have to eat it all, just what you can manage.” Jake then asks, his smile widening when you nod shyly. He gets to his feet, bringing you up with him and leading you into the kitchen so you can start making dinner. Jake wanted you to build up your healthy relationship with food again and he figured the first step would be having you assist with making the meal. When the food was prepped, Jake let you plate up your own food, giving you complete control over how much food you wanted on your plate. He watched as you finished plating up and moved to sit at the table before following suit. He sat opposite you and immediately dug in, glancing up at you occasionally and noticing how you were pushing the food around on his plate.

“You wanna know what happened in training today?” Jake asks suddenly, making you look up at him, confused.

“What happened in training?” You asked after managing a small mouthful of food. Jake then launches into a story about how the Dagger Squad had been training and successfully managed to get tone on Maverick in their training exercise. He made sure to explain every single detail of what was going on. He noticed that as he was talking, you were distracted enough to keep eating without being aware of the fact you were eating. He makes sure to include how the entire team had watched Maverick do his two hundred pushups and how they had counted each individual one themselves to save Hondo a job. When Maverick had completed his pushups, Rooster had poured a bottle of water over Maverick’s head the second he complained that he was too hot. You laughed as you pictured Rooster dumping water all over Maverick. You had been so entranced by your dad’s story that you hadn’t noticed that you’d eaten all the food on your plate until you heard your fork scrape against the empty plate. You looked down in shock before looking back up at your dad who had a proud smile on his face. He gets up from his seat and crosses to you before pulling you into a quick hug.

“I’m so proud of you.” He whispers, running a hand through your hair and leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“You want a little more or are you done?” Jake asks as he pulls away looking down at you.

“I think I’m done.” You say, not feeling like you could eat any more food.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll just stick the leftovers in the fridge.” Jake grins, packaging up the leftover food and sticking it in the fridge before taking both plates and sets of cutlery so he could put them in the dishwasher. Once Jake has tidied up, he sits down opposite you once more and smiles at you softly.

“You did really well. I know I’ve already said it but  I’m so proud of you.” Jake praises, bringing a smile to your face.

“Thank you, dad.” You whisper.

“Can I suggest something? This idea just popped into my head.” Jake then asks, looking over at you, waiting for you to nod before speaking again.

“I think you should delete Instagram off your phone, just until things get a little better. Those models you’re seeing online aren’t going to help you.” Jake suggests, almost expecting you to blow up in his face and accuse him of trying to cut you off from your friends.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” You say quietly, extracting your phone from your pocket and unlocking it. You quickly locate the Instagram app icon and look to your dad briefly for reassurance before deleting the app from your phone.

“It’s gone.” You confirmed, smiling as you glanced over at dad who’s grin matched yours.

“Atta girl.” He says, the two of you sharing a smile before Jake reaches across the table and grabs your hand, a seriousness coming across the room quickly.

“I want you to promise me something. If things get too much, and you feel like I can’t help you anymore, I want you to tell me. I want you to tell me so we can get you the help you need.” Jake asks and you immediately find yourself nodding. You knew it was a big promise but you wanted to get better, and sometimes outside help is what’s needed.

“I promise, dad.” You say, watching as Jake nods lightly, his smile returning.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Jake says quietly, squeezing your hand lightly.

“I love you too dad.” You reply.

You knew the road to recovery would be bumpy, and that there’d be times that would be tougher than others. But you felt a little bit of relief knowing that your dad would be by your side every step of the way, loving and caring for you the way he had been since you were born. And you knew he’d be the best support system you could ever have and you were so grateful for him.

[dragonanon]

I’ve got Beehive Gear station brain worms again, and Bee Elesa brings in SO much angst potential for this au and I am here for it. So here’s a mildly angsty blurb.

It was honestly just poor timing that Elesa “returned” to the hive while you had a belly full of eggs. You weren’t feeling that great about being so big and heavy to begin with, and having your Kings and Drones fawn over someone who would’ve been the Queen now were it not for the fact that the previous Queen was a complete sociopath, was NOT helping in the slightest. The hormones from the strange pseudo pregnancy were not helping either, and in fact only exacerbated your jealousy and feelings of low self esteem.

At the end of the day however, you were honestly more upset about the fact that you were even getting upset about this in the first place. It’s completely petty and unjustified, and you know it. Your Kings and Drones have never once given you any reason whatsoever to doubt their love and loyalty to you, and even now as you lay sulking in a blanket burrito and watching “The Real Housewives of Nimbasa City” in the dark, you don’t doubt any of them. So why on Earth were you getting so bent out of shape about this then??? No one has done anything wrong, yet here you are feeling like a bitter jealous cow. And you hate it. You hate it SO fucking much, and you don’t want to burden your poor hive OR Elesa with your petty sour grapes because they don’t deserve to subjected to that nonsense.

So instead, you stay curled around your belly and join the, admittedly bitchy, group of women on screen in reveling in the fact that the bitchiest woman in the group is currently making a complete fool of herself at a bachelorette party. No joke she’s about to get herself kicked off the yacht for her drunken bs, and at this point you’re just rooting for her to fall overboard before she can get kicked off because tbh, fuck her.

The Hive has obviously noticed your shift in mood though, and how you’ve taken to holing yourself up in your chambers and binging reality TV shows. However no one really knows what to do about it because you insist that you’re fine, and while you aren’t necessarily doing anything harmful or bad, something is very clearly bothering you but you’re refusing to talk to anyone about it. It’s making the Hive uneasy knowing that their Queen is upset about something, but they can’t figure out what it is and you won’t tell them either.

The Kings are especially distressed, they’re your Kings, your confidants! You’re supposed to be able to turn to them when something’s bothering you, yet you’re pushing even them away! This is completely abnormal behavior for you, and it has them worried about you and the eggs you carry.

Seeing her close friends and former Hive in distress, Elesa takes it upon herself to talk to you and try to find out what’s going on. You resist at first, insisting that you’re fine and just want to continue watching your shows. Until Elesa takes you by the hands and says “You don’t have to put on an act for me. I might only be a Princess, but I still know when a Queen is putting on a brave face to mask the hurt they feel deep down. I’m not going to make you talk about what’s bothering you, but if you need or want some support, I’m right here.”

Well that broke the dam, and now you’re openly bawling. Elesa doesn’t say anything, but holds you close and rubs your back in a soothing manner while you sob into her coat. After your initial sobbing dies down, you tearfully explain how insecure in your body and position you’ve been feeling lately. And how you feel so guilty for being Queen when it should’ve been Elesa in your place. You feel awful for even HAVING these feelings because by all accounts, your life is so perfect that you should have nothing to be upset about and you should be grateful for your current life.

Elesa comforts you through all of this, reassuring you that you’re a wonderful Queen who deserves to be where you are now and having these thoughts and feelings don’t make you a bad Queen. She does ask though why you kept this in for so long. You explain that you didn’t mean to but seeing how happy your Kings and Hive have been since she came back, you felt like it would be selfish of you to ruin that happiness with your negative thoughts and feelings by making everything about you. So it was easier to just withdraw and not voice how lonely and neglected you felt.

Elesa is still calm and reassuring to you, offering much needed comfort to you as she helps you get settled in for a nap. After that however, the shitstorm begins! Elesa storms out of your chambers and straight to the Kings (Insert the “menacing” Jojo meme), where after knocking them both upside the head, proceeds to give them the verbal buttchewing of a lifetime and she lays it on THICK; scolding them both for being so neglectful to their Queen, that she had to turn to a near stranger for emotional support!

“We didn’t know she was feeling so terrible, she never told us-“

“SHE IS YOUR QUEEN, YOU DONKEYS! SHE SHOULDN’T HAVE TO SPELL OUT EXACTLY WHAT SHE’S FEELING TO GET YOU TWO TO PAY ATTENTION TO HER! HELL, HAVE EITHER OF YOU EVEN BOTHERED TO VISIT HER TODAY??”

The Kings are mortified by the realization that they’ve been severely neglecting their poor Queen, and during a time when you’re at your most vulnerable no less! Their first instinct is to rush to you, to comfort you and beg for your forgiveness. But Elesa physically stops them, saying that you’re currently taking a much needed nap and that if they DARE wake you up, she will personally castrate them both. The Kings know well enough that Elesa isn’t one to make empty threats, so they back down and instead start working on putting together lavish little spa day of sorts for when you eventually wake up.

[ikemenomegas]

Any thoughts to shake loose on any of your Naruto guys, Io? I like your mun-name!! 💕

From the notebook

Loose leaf ideas:

I'm so sorry, I have no idea what a mun-name is but thank you anyways 😅. Also sorry it's taken so long, I was trying to do the Make a Wish prompts, which I've finally gotten mostly bullet pointed out. Lucky thing because I all but finished one of the last two and then lost it due to my own stupidity... so I've been sadly trying to rewrite it /sigh. I decided to finally shake free those ideas in the mean time, since I haven't posted any writing in a while

Yamato (Tenzo, but this name is for private use)

Because he was raised in Root, he mostly emotes via micro expressions so his Alpha has learned to be really good at reading those looks. His Alpha can literally stare at his face for hours while they talk. Yamato stares right back. Please ask for a booth if you go to a restaurant with him. Everyone thinks you're making bedroom eyes at each other when you're figuring out your next week's meal prep. Actual bedroom eyes are near lethal levels.

He's a pretty tall guy so when you first started spending time at his place, all the cups and plates and things are also really high up. He barely used any of his lower cupboards. When you first move in together, he asks you where all of your stuff is and you think he's joking until you realize he genuinely doesn't check any of those cabinets or drawers that he doesn't use...

All of his furniture is handmade, as in through the wood style. It's all very functional, lots of squares, but elegant. If want different shapes he's really willing and eager to learn how intricate he can get with his jutsu. He's got a remarkably artistic streak, despite his serious demeanor. You'll never have to buy a new bookshelf again, he'll just make them.

Yamato likes quality time and gifts as his receiving love languages. He works really hard for the village and having someone focused on him and appreciative of his hard work and attentive to his needs is key to being a good partner for him

You can't go wrong if you show your appreciation by making him things that he likes, ie a craft, homemade item, or really involved food. He's also not opposed to an evening of pampering where he has your full undivided attention after a day spent sight seeing.

Gaara

He doesn't make the first move in a relationship, which leaves him in a fun lil' stalemate for a while with his eventual mate, because you can't make moves on the Kazekage and he's thinking "I'm the Kazekage, it would be an unfair power dynamic to tell them I think about them every time I write poetry lately..." On a trip back to Suna, Temari takes one look at him and you and then scolds Kankuro because "I can't be the one to manage both kinds of diplomatic relations. Please do something to make my life a little easier." Kankuro then attempts to organize scenarios for you and Gaara to meet. These go poorly in the way of all comedic anime interludes but do result in the two of you bonding more closely.

Gaara was raised to be the leader of a military nation, but he winds down by engaging in more traditional artistic pursuits. All three of the siblings actually have a talent in at least one area of the more refined arts. Gaara is very accomplished at calligraphy, and I'm not kidding about the poetry, he really does compose different works and a lot of them are very good. He even worked hard at some point during his courtship to create a public stone garden in the village which he sometimes alters during festivals so it has different designs.

He is very responsible when it comes to Kazekage duties. He's also been performing them since before he turned 15, and has almost no penchant for mischief. However, he can be easily coaxed away from his office in the name of training his children/students, where he can be further tricked into simply enjoying himself. He's actually a really patient, insightful teacher.

He has an unfortunate habit, only slightly curbed by age, of being willing to drag everyone into a goal he decides is worthwhile. While he mostly used credible threats to get what he wanted as a child, he's since become very adept at manipulation. Mostly, he's genuine and persistent, but he also knows how to get other people to want to follow him. This includes knowing the exact Look to give his mate whenever he wants something.

I think you could easily write him as demiromantic/aromantic. He isn't romantically attracted to anyone right away, and if he does develop those feelings they aren't all-consuming, but there are certain people he can see himself partnering with for the rest of his life, and certain triggers for kicking those feelings off with his alpha.

Nagato

The more I research him, the more it is clear his canon outcome is the bad-end version of the shonen trio trope. Yahiko and Konan were in love with one another, and Nagato was the one who loved them both enough to follow them to the ends of the earth. Nothing in any world was ever going to deter him from that, so his Alpha needs to be pointed in the same direction, ideally devoted to Yahiko and his original Akatsuki as well.

Nagato is the one who guides his Alpha in believing in the ideals of Akatsuki. Before the original trio falls apart, this is done without any ultimatum or ulterior motive. Nagato genuinely believes in the dream Yahiko has, and felt very motivated to bring that hope to his Alpha. It was only afterwards that he truly started to fall in love with them, although that was the original spark.

He likes to read, although he seldom has the time or opportunity to do so. Jiraiya's taught all of the Ame orphans to read and write. He truly enjoys ready philosophical treatises and dialogues. He is a fan of fiction but very slow when reading these because he prefers to experience the world himself first hand, interacting with people and places. He once dreamed of traveling throughout Amegakure and the surrounding nations as a kind of pilgrim.

Nagato nearly died after he fought Hanzo for the first time, not because of his injuries, but because chakra depletion left him unable to sense his Alpha. Believing them dead while he was near delirious, he himself nearly died from the grief of losing Yahiko, and them on top of this loss, despite Yahiko's final wish.

In a version of the world where his Alpha does not survive Obito's slaughter of the original Akatsuki members, Nagato recovers their body and turns it into the Preta Path of Pain, appropriate given the path's callback to possessiveness and desire, and representation of the Hungry Ghost Realm. In the version where his Alpha survives, Nagato becomes very possessive over them, only willing to let them take missions for the Akatsuki alongside Konan, alone, or preferably not at all as you three nurse your grief within Amegakure.

Shisui

You know I love those Uchiha men. They just have a vibe... Shisui in particular. His appearances never make me think first of his death, but of his kindness and his protectiveness over the people he cares for; he dies smiling. Unfortunately, Shisui's path really only works in a non-massacre scenario, since he is approximately sixteen when he dies, which is too young for him to have a mating bond, although I do HC him as considering courting someone at the time the coup starts to take over his life. The with-massacre scenario is one in which Itachi is able to get Shisui out of the village, possibly that he secretly survives the fall thanks to his summons.

Shisui's parents were either not ninjas, or are individuals who have had to retire for the corp for some reason. What we know about him says he was the family breadwinner after he was made a jounin, which leads me to lean towards non-ninja parents. This is particularly interesting for Uchiha clan members, since we don't get to see what the civilian members of clan families do in the Naruto world and most assume the Uchiha clan is shinobi-dominated. It's doubly intriguing when we also know the famous Kagami Uchiha was his ancestor (likely grandfather > great grandfather if we base off other known generations). Since we don't have canon confirmation of this stuff, I guess it counts as a HC?

Given the above, he's the most likely of the Uchiha on my list to willingly and happily take on a civilian Alpha. While I haven't totally fleshed out the background for this pairing, I have toyed around with the idea of an acid-tongued relative of someone from the Daimyo's court whom Shisui met on a mission catching his attention. This oc is a bit of a tsundere with an infamous temper who only Shisui with his notable empathetic and pleasant demeanor is immune to. They become one of the Land of Fire ambassadors and Shisui travels with them on a sort of long-term assignment before they eventually settle together in the village.

The reason they settle in the village is that Shisui decides he wants to have kids and knows that the Uchiha will never risk the sharingan passing into the control of another family or political body. His alpha has to sign a bunch of paperwork relinquishing their ability to inherit anything that might give their family power over their and Shisui's children, but enjoys arguing enough that they remain an ambassador even after settling in Konoha so they can wipe the floor with anyone who has anything to say about Shisui being the reason for their departure.

In the survive-the-fall scenario, Shisui remains blind, retires from being a ninja, and lives with his Alpha in a civilian city, where they help hide his identity and spoil him as much as he will allow. There's potential in this scenario for a path which probably fixes Sasuke btw. There's a lot of options here.

Sai

He intentionally emotes more than Yamato, however while Yamato mostly keeps his facial expressions hidden, his reactions to his Alpha are almost always honest. Sai explicitly cultivates his ability to make facial expressions because he was trying to fit in with normal people, throw them off guard, and do his job as a spy better. This makes it more difficult for his Alpha to tell whether Sai is actually showing that he likes something or not. It takes a long time to figure it out. Eventually, his reactions naturally start to correspond with his emotions around family and friends so it's easier on everyone.

His Alpha thinks that Sai really doesn't like them at the beginning. Although he doesn't necessarily understand why, he picks up on this very quickly and tries to fix the situation throughout the next few months, to varying degrees of success. Eventually, he decides to show you how he feels by painting a portrait of you as he sees you. It's exactly as intimate as you'd think it would be. For better or worse, Sai eventually has to come out and say he can't come up with any courting gift more genuine than the portrait to show you how he feels about you personally, which will tip his Alpha off that he is interested in them.

Because he has difficulties showing his emotions, and also in understanding the nuances behind others' reactions, he likes straightforward methods of communication. He trusts his Alpha implicitly and is incredibly perceptive so he is able to read their responses to him. He enjoys words of affirmation the most and appreciates when his Alpha takes the time to talk through things with him. He also likes physical contact, craves it even, but can quickly become overstimulated depending on the situation. He genuinely wants people to like him and to have sincere connections with the people he meets by acting like himself. Although Sai works hard to "earn" his place among the other people in his generation, it takes him a long time to see that everyone has already accepted him, and to understand that relationships take time and hard work.

For many years, he believes he physically can't have children because Root made all of its operatives starting about 5 years before Sai joined infertile. This insights conflicting feelings in him. On the one hand he never has to worry about accidentally becoming pregnant, which is very nice when he starts navigating his physical desires with his mate. On the other hand, he will never have the option and that hurts, because so much was taken from him in the way of choice and this is another one of those things. The procedure may be reversible in some members because I can see Root forcing long-term operatives to have families with their targets to get closer to them, or being gross enough to try and breed operatives, but Sai doesn't know this.

He likes swimming. He has a favorite swimming spot on the Konoha river. It's the kind of activity that sincerely has no purpose, and he finds a serenity in it, in a similar way that lots of people find a zone of focus when running.

[butchthirteen]

what’s your pitch for good!Flux? And good!Power of the Doctor?

okay so i'm going to preface this by saying i have not rewatched flux or power of the doctor since potd aired and that is because potd dealt so much psychic damage to me that it retroactively ruined the entire chibnall era and now i can never watch it again. so this is going to be extremely vague/broad strokes because i don't remember what happened very well.

on the other hand, this means that the bar for a good version of both of these is very low.

overall, flux should be entirely about the doctor's reaction to the timeless child news and her subsequent identity crisis, and secondarily about how she is in absolutely no shape to have any kind of relationship with another person.

to make room for this, we're cutting out like half the plot lines. i liked bel and vinder but what were they doing there. we don't need the unit thing either, and i think i'd also cut the lupari, or at least, i might keep karvanista as a figure from the doctor's past but i'm not sure connecting that to a species that exists to guard humans makes literally any sense. i'm not sure we need swarm and azure either, and i would maybe replace them with a lackey for tecteun who's responsible for creating/spreading the flux. the weeping angel thing can take up more time, that was one of the cooler parts of flux, and it could also build up some suspense (ie. the angels are stalking the doctor, what do they want with her, finally she's in the 60's and this town is crawling with them, etc.) and we keep dan so yaz can have a companion.

plotwise like... i feel like the flux itself has to feel personal. like... okay, planets are disappearing, but they're planets the doctor cares about. she drags yaz to some planet or another because she thinks it might give her more clues about what division is, and the planet is just full of refugees. and something is clearly extremely extremely wrong. and they go back to earth to check on it and they realize the streets are strangely empty, i guess i'm lifting from the dimension cannon audios to say the flux got the sun. which also gives them a time limit on fixing it because pretty soon the earth is going to be uninhabitably cold. and they pick up dan somewhere in there. but as they like. go around the universe trying to figure out what's wrong it's clear that like. places that have a particular significance to the doctor are gone. you could pull a ton of different references from past seasons. and then she realizes she keeps seeing the angels.

you need to either do way less or way more thasmin, and i'm a dyke, so i would make the thasmin way more explicit, but also way more toxic/codependent. yaz knows thirteen is hiding something, knows it's massive, knows thirteen is running away from her, but can't leave because 1. she's never felt this way about anyone and she doesn't want to lose what she has and 2. she knows that whatever thirteen is hiding is clearly devastating and rooted in trauma etc which makes her 100% more likely to forgive thirteen. and thirteen for her part is like. perfectly nice until yaz tries to challenge her/ask questions and then she falls back on the "haven't i shown you amazing things!!" thing that we get like. one line of.

also like yaz having WWTDD on her hand was a clear attempt to show that she looks up to the doctor and wants to be like the doctor but it's like. extremely on-the-nose and stilted. "show don't tell" isn't universally useful advice but it would be useful advice in this specific instance. show us that yaz is becoming like the doctor!

for example. i kind of want to keep some of the stuff with the mouri, maybe the doctor goes to them to figure out whether something's wrong, realizes a couple are missing, but crucially yaz is like "wait if you get another person in there will it stop the universe from being so fucked up." and jumps in. because she thinks she can handle it. and the doctor is like. oh shit i don't want to lose yaz and jumps in too. because then you can have all the flashbacks, maybe you give yaz glimpses of a possible future for herself (without the doctor... but with the doctor's constant intrusion) (also in good!flux yaz has already quit being a cop and she's an emt in the future thing) and then that can parallel the doctor's glimpses of a possible past for herself, with the present as an intrusion (ie. she's seeing yaz instead of her actual partner or whatever).

yaz's separation from thirteen (and her watching thirteen turn into an angel) needs a lot more narrative and emotional weight, we should see her sobbing and wailing, and then we should see her stand up and figure out what needs to be done. the doctor doesn't give her a hologram (because thirteen being like "well i think we might get separated!" and planting a hologram makes NO sense) but she does have like. a silly souvenir hologram of the doctor from some amusement park or something so it's literally just the doctor grinning and going like "hi yaz!!"

and she has dan with her but i think i'll leave jericho out honestly because the main thing i remember about him is yaz taking a historical object out of a dig site type of place and going "we should return it" and jericho going "no no it's a discovery!!" and like. i think maybe i'm actually not going to have a character of color say "hey stealing this cultural item kind of sucks" and then an older white man from the 1960's who's just there to go "no it's great." i mean if i do keep him in i take out that line and i give his death way more impact. but anyway . we can keep dan as companion for yaz and also like. general emotional support guy. this also means that he gets an extremely one-sided picture of yaz's relationship with the doctor. i also think he assumes they're dating/partnered just by how desperate yaz is to get back.

but anyway without the hologram yaz doesn't have a mission from the doctor, but she does have a mission, which is to get back to the doctor, and she's spent enough time with the doctor that she knows if she looks hard enough eventually she'll find a time traveler, possibly another version of the doctor, and she can get that person to get her back to the doctor. i think also if we keep the tunnels she needs to discover them through research etc., like she needs to read somewhere about this guy in liverpool who keeps saying these tunnels are going to weird times/places, and then she needs to follow up on those rumors and seek out the guy and ask him about the tunnels and convince him to show her the tunnels and then she gets back. and dan is there to be like "hang on i know about these tunnels!!"

meanwhile!! first of all we make a much bigger deal about the angel thing, we see thirteen left there for much longer, and it's tecteun who comes and turns her back. also the conversation with tecteun starts with tecteun addressing thirteen in gallifreyan and then switching to english when thirteen absolutely refuses to engage. this is the "reveal" that yes, the flux was about the doctor, and it's all so the doctor can have a beautiful new universe to play in, etc etc etc. honestly i don't think i'd change much about this bit, it's just all the stuff around it needs to give it way more weight. i'm honestly not sure how this resolves, though. i think thirteen needs to think tecteun is right for a moment, and then she's like wait fuck this and figures out an escape. probably she figures out tecteun has an escape plan and uses that. to be honest i don't worry a lot about the technicalities of stuff like "how does she escape" because i feel like that's secondary to the actual plot. like in doctor who the technical stuff never makes any sense but you buy into it because the emotional story is good. unless the emotional story is bad.

and then like. we're back on earth with the sun gone out. it is extremely crucial that thirteen does not get trisected after the interaction with tecteun because this means that yaz is now in the right century, directly in front of the tardis, but the doctor isn't there. which means that we can use the chekov's gun of yaz knowing how to pilot the tardis (!!!) and have her get in there, get out her big binder and all her sticky notes or whatever, and figure out how to find the doctor. and honestly i think it takes most of the episode for her and the doctor to find each other. meanwhile they're both trying to figure out how to solve the problem of the flux. they find each other, have their moment, thirteen is absolutely wrecked emotionally and physically, yaz is doing a little better but like it's been a long four years. and there's a moment where thirteen is completely defeated, yaz starts throwing out solutions, like "maybe there's an antidote" "maybe there's something that works against it" "maybe we can turn back time" etc etc etc.

and here's the thing... i think maybe this is where the heart of the tardis could come in. like when it's used at the end of the first episode of flux, it's so anticlimactic. but in s1, it's established that the heart of the tardis gives you what you need. and i feel like thirteen looking into the heart of the tardis could like. do some things. for the universe. particularly i think thirteen coupled with the tardis could fuck with the timelines to reverse the progress of the flux, there's still lots of loss but she manages to save earth (and the sun) and get the flux out of the universe. honestly i'm not sure if this would actually work but again it's one of those things where the emotional storyline needs to really sell it.

so that's flux. and you know what you could just have the doctor regenerate right there, considering the heart of the tardis has a track record of killing her, but let's say instead she expends it all trying to fix what the flux did and then she's just so fucking tired. and yaz is like "okay let's have a beach day. do you want to invite dan."

and then we get eotd/lotsd. i won't go into too much detail here except that these episodes need to like. foster actual conversation between thirteen and yaz. like they need to actually talk it out. thirteen needs to tell yaz what she's been hiding, yaz needs to express how it's hurt her. which sets them up for potd.

good!potd involves a few things. first of all, tegan and ace are both explicitly dykes. none of this "i have two ex-husbands" whatever. she's married to nyssa and we all know this. secondly, we need an actual bodyswap between the doctor and the master. what actually happened was way too confusing. thirdly, if you are going to open on a random child and then not use that to talk about thirteen's childhood trauma. what is the point. fourthly yaz needs to either choose to leave on her own accord (because thirteen mistreated her, because even though they're talking now it's too little too late, because her time in the past made her realize she really missed normal life) or there needs to be tragedy. like she needs to die. we also need an emotional kiss either right when she's about to leave or while she dies. honestly i don't remember what the actual plot of potd was but like. fewer plot lines more of the master and the doctor goofing around in each other's bodies, more dykery, more tragedy. and also thirteen needs to die as a direct result of the forced regeneration. honestly i only watched potd once and since then i've been trying to wipe it from my brain because i hated it so much so i have fewer thoughts on this one.

anyway i hope you enjoyed that. i gave myself real emotions thinking about thirteen's emotional journey in my own personal version of flux. if anyone has thoughts or wants to add anything let me know. i thought about adding jack to both flux and potd because according to the released shooting script for rotd he was supposed to come back at the end and deliver a cliffhanger into flux (presumably written before the bbc blacklisted john barrowman) and like if we're living in a perfect world where no one sexually harasses anyone else having jack there (particularly as someone who knows the doctor very well from a very different point in their life) would be cool so there's also that.

this is long but i'm not putting it under a read more. woe! good!flux and good!potd be upon ye!

[notsoblackandwhite101]

PLEASE READ ALL

Hey there Puparoonies! With December fast approaching and a new 101 Dalmatian Street trending party set up for Jan 2- Jan 3, I figured I should make some ART! I've made an all new drawing grid just for Drawcember and made it vague so people can reuse it for whatever fandom they want! (A shout out back to me so I can see your art would be great if you do btw!)

HOW ITS GONNA WORK- I have made a grid of aesthetics that will be the theme of the piece. Basically I'll draw a characters in an outfit that matches the aesthetic provided. They will get a hat, a bag and a piece of jewellery and I'll try to make it match their personality if I can! (For example, if Dylan got the Space Aesthetic I'd go more sciency. For Dawkins, more sci-fi show. For Dolly, cool aliens!)

HOW DO WE PICK THE CHARACTERS TO AN AESTHETIC?! - I'll be holding polls to decide now that Tumblr can do that. We have an A team and a B team. So we'll be voting on two Aesthetics at a time. I'll post the Aesthetic and a description so you know what to expect.

WHAT ARE THE AESTHETICS?!

(Photos just grabbed off of google. All pictures here are not mine.)

Descriptions

(Please note that aesthetics can very from person to person on what they mean, and what they include!These are just my takes.)

Pastel- The pastel aesthetic is just as straightforward as its name, focusing on everything that's less saturated and in lighter hues. In particular, the word “pastel” refers to a soft and delicate shade of a color produced by adding more white.

Vaporwave- The Vaporwave aesthetic incorporates early Internet imagery, late 1990s web design, glitch art, and cyberpunk tropes, as well as anime, Greco-Roman statues, and 3D-rendered objects. VHS degradation is another common effect seen in vaporwave art.

Dark - Dark aesthetic covers a wide range of different things. If its dark and edgy , it can fall under this same system. Sometimes there's horror elements, but it can also be cutesy. All you really need is black, greys, and sparse uses of blood red and neon green. Some spikes can't hurt either!

Neon- The Neon aesthetic (Or Glowwave.) Is the use of bright, almost glowing colors on darker scenes. Reflective surfaces, sparkles and bright 'neon' pink can dominate this aesthetic.

Pastel Goth- Pastel Goth is an aesthetic that is a result of mixing goth or grunge with the sweet pastel elements of the kawaii aesthetic. Think if horror was cute, or cute was horrific if that's easier. Lots of black and pastel colours here.

Punk-Punk aesthetics determine the type of art punks enjoy, which typically has underground, iconoclastic, and satirical sensibilities. Punk can be as messy or minimalist as you want. It also tends to be more focused on the handmade, reused and recycled. Newspaper collages, safety pin, metal spikes, oh yeah!

Black and white- Contrast. That is the core of the Black and White aesthetic. Using only grayscale to convey detailed images. Tends to be fancy, simple and clean!

Rainbow- COLOUR, COLOUR, COLOUR! Rainbow is all colour all the time! With clear, fun shapes and fun splatters, rainbow is just... colourful fun.

Space- Spacecore is a type of aesthetic that is centered around astronomy, stars and planets. It can also be called astrocore or cosmic core. Spacecore uses lots of stars and planet type things in clothing or decor. Many spacecore aesthetics will have pictures of the sun, the moon or the stars.

Cottagecore- Cottagecore is an aesthetic that celebrates simple living, particularly in the countryside. It encourages a lifestyle rooted in traditional skills—like baking bread, gardening, and sewing your own clothes. Basically you live in a modern day Jeremiah Puddleduck book.

Pale- Palewave centers around muted and pale colors with a very relaxed and comfy vibe. Think light, easy, breezy and gentle designs. Nothing pops out right off the bat in this muted aesthetic.

Kidcore- Bright colours, cartoon designs, nostalgia, and fun! Its somewhat similar to rainbow, but you can't escape consumerism in this aesthetic usually! Toys, games, anything to do with just being a kid and enjoying life is included!

NOW WHAT?!

Now you vote in the polls! Just pick whichever character you want to see in the aesthetic listed. Please note that in order to draw this all in one month, I will be making the polls quick! The first one I'll have last a week, to help spread the word, but after that they will likely only last a day! That being said, each character will only be used ONCE. So once they're picked for an aesthetic, their off the voting board. Were you hoping a character would get a different one? Well don't worry! I may do this again, or you can try it yourself to! Just have fun!

Make sure to follow @bks-blogs for more 101 Dalmatian Street news and updates for the trending party!

[jungwnies]

hi maeby! its been a while, im sorry this took too long and I don’t know exactly when you’ll see this but know that i’m writing this on december 16 for reference hehe (this will essentially be a 2023 recap but ill try to be as short as possible)

last time i was here i think it was the end of june or beginnings of july and a lot has happened in my life, on august i turned 21 and i also went to the eras tour!! definitely one of the best days ever in my life and maybe top 3 on best days of 2023  🤍

talking about my birthday its little sensitive topic, for the past five years or so my birthdays has kind of been something that I’ve dreaded so much and i'm just the opposite of happy, its like those posts you see everywhere of people crying in their room during their birthdays and this year wasn’t  the exception, this years birthday..lets just say it will be memorable but leaving that aside august was kind of okay

the concert experience may be on of my favorite memories just because it feel so cathartic, it was just so beautiful talking to strangers and us bonding over music and art, listening and singing to my favorite songs, getting to go to a concert for the first time on my own, traveling with my sister (just the two of us) for the first time, all the beautiful pictures and videos and people that i keep with me because of that one experience it just something that I will eternally be grateful for (also, so. many. friendship. bracelets.)

i remember looking back at my life and my lowest points in it and thinking (and hopefully it won’t get too sad) “well maybe someone out there was right, i just needed to hang on a little tighter, cause imagine missing out on this” 

september was filled with delicious food and me going out a little more often

in october was my sisters birthday, so she held a halloween costume party and i got to dress up as an elf/fairy, i also went to one of my best friends birthday party and felt amazing seeing a couple of familiar faces after months, and some of them even years, waiting. also yes, this means i ate a lot of cake on october (my moms birthday was also on this month hah). i also took a ceramic class. i loved it (I made a small bowl :))

november i went out a lot, bought new clothes, bought christmas decorations, studied korean, went to the doctor cause i thought i was going to die (turns out im not, even far from it : im as healthy as a horse) 

and as of december, planning christmas dinner with my mom and sister, got a bad haircut that made me cry so hard and then got it fixed at another salon, had dates with friends, retook ceramic classes (i made two cups, three heart shaped plates and a little jewelry organizer), scheduled one more therapy session before the year ends after months of not going, took more buses this month than in my whole life and i guess im slowly figuring out my stuff a little more. 

i discovered new artists this year, feel in love again  with old ones that I had forgotten about, learned new cooking recipes, got a little more out of the house than last year, made amends with my body and established boundaries even though it hurt :)

turning 21 this year essentially meant a lot, i don’t want to go into more detailed as to not make this any longer but lets just say im planning on getting 21 tattooed on my next year haha

i hope the rest of the year was kind to you, if you feel comfortable to answer with maybe your favorite parts of 2023 would be great! if not just know that i love you and missed dropping by here, hopefully starting 2024 i'll be back here regularly <3<3

take care, stretch, rest all you need, take your time, and remember that im always right here rooting for you and hugging you 🩶🩶🩶

happy holidays :) love youuuuu

-🧸anon

hiii 🧸anon <3

it has been literally so long, i was taking a break from tumblr, honestly i didn't even think i'd come back but seeing this upon logging in literally brought joy to my heart knowing you're still around! :)

i've read everything, from your birthday to your christmas dinner with your mom and sister. starting with your birthday i'm glad that 2023 you had a memorable birthday after dreading it for so many years, and i hope 2024 also brings you joy! onto the concert next, i know exactly how you feel, it's something that you don't feel often and the crowds are just so amazing because it's people who share the same love for the same artist, and it's like you are in your own little world for a few hours. next, september & october, i'm glad it was filled with food and another birthday, it seems so fun to have a halloween themed birthday honestly!! november, i'm glad it was a good month besides the scary doctors visit >.< december seemed to have been a busy month for you, and hopefully your hair is okay now :( hopefully the therapy sesh went well. I'm glad your year was overall not too shabby, and I'm glad that you had a lot of character development. Hopefully 2024 brings you absolutely nothing but joy! 🖤

now onto my year, i guess i'll go with the highlights. i essentially had a relatively good year, i was able to do a lot of things, and uni was not too stressful, but it's a little harder this semester. starting with my august, i didn't do much except get ready for the semester, signed up for my september classes etc etc, it was relatively boring. my september was a little more eventful, i took a marine biology class which was so fun, and i'm not even majoring in marine bio, we got to talk about sea legends and a lot of the lore behind mermaids and other stuff. in october i did the same thing, but i made one of my best friends ever, except uhhh we're not really friends anymore as of recently, but my heart goes to them, they meant alot. in november i built a new computer, a little nerdy but i actually really enjoyed it except i had a mental breakdown trying to do cable management LMFAO 😭😭in december i had a good month, except the basement flooded so that wasn't very slay but regardless it was a good month filled with nothing but holiday spirit and gifts.

now with a short little update on my 2024, because it's been awhile. in january i went back to school for the second semester, and it's been tough i'm not going to lie. i also got a boyfriend so like !?!??! kinda crazy, he's not too bad but like every relationship we definitely have our downs. in february, it was a short month but nonetheless eventful this is the downfall of me and bestie tbh, but it's okay he was like a life lesson or something!?!?! now this month, it just started and it's been great, it's midterm week right now so i'm a bit stressed, but i also suddenly got motivation to go back on youtube and write on tumblr again, so i'm super happy about that :)

i hope 2024 is kind to you and gives you a lot of joy! remember to take care of yourself, just as you always say to me, stretch, rest all you need, take your time, and remember that im always right here rooting for you and hugging you as well! ❤️❤️❤️

have a great year, and i hope to see you again 🧸❤️

[tyrannuspitch]

been thinking about the dearth of actual movie adaptations of norse myth, which is of course partly down to the fact that what we have is fragmentary and episodic and not movie-shaped at all.

so um. here are a few preliminary thoughts on how you might be able to make it work.

focus on ragnarok, since that's where we have the most continuous/connected material, and make it a tragedy, because that's the whole point.

focus on the relationship between loki and odin, since they're going to be leading the armies at ragnarok.

make them both tragic, complex, morally grey figures, and draw out their similarities. either could be the protagonist, but let's say odin for now.

invent a little bit of backstory for how and why loki and odin became blood brothers - a connection, and either genuine personal loyalty or common cause. give us something to root for, even if it's small, and then spend the rest of the film slowly destroying it.

open by telling the audience exactly what's going to happen at ragnarok, so it can hang over the whole of the film.

take your time introducing the characters to the prophecy - maybe we start with hints or fragments, and we try not to believe them, so when odin gets the full thing it's a major plot point. and yet the distrust and decay has already set in; it's already inevitable.

finding a plot point to take us from the lead-up to ragnarok, to ragnarok itself, is going to be difficult - but maybe we don't actually need to.

the baldr's death/failed rescue/snake torture sequence could work as a climax. once everything is in place, we could end on "waiting for ragnarok" and leave it hanging.

some other thoughts:

odin sacrificing his eye and loki getting his lips sewn shut could be parallel steps towards ragnarok - odin is growing paranoid and obsessively seeks knowledge, while loki is growing bitter and vengeful.

odin imprisons loki's children (fenrir/hel/jormungandr); loki kills odin's son baldr and keeps him trapped in hel; the aesir kill loki's sons vali and narfi and imprison loki using their entrails. this could be a cycle of vengeance!

loki and odin don't actually directly kill one another at ragnarok. maybe you'd want to change this, or maybe there could be a kind of tragic disappointment in it, a sense of loss...? i burnt down the world to kill you and i didn't even get to do it myself!

(<- although i'm not sure how being blood brothers plays into that. are blood brothers allowed to kill one another? oaths in myth tend to be binding, so if that is part of it, it's possible they literally can't.)

odin built the world, and loki burnt it down. odin is a king/chief of the gods and loki, his blood brother, is an outsider and scapegoat among them. at least from loki's perspective, power and injustice will probably be central to their conflict.

odin is endlessly preparing for crisis, while loki is reckless and impulsive. but they're both willing to kill and let countless people die for them. from odin's perspective, their conflict is probably still essentially about personal survival and personal (or familial) grudges - i don't think myth!odin would necessarily see a need to justify it via a greater good, although he would probably deflect as much of the blame as possibly onto loki.

this is a fun thought experiment. i might come back to it later.

[bluesfortheredj]

The promise.

You’d heard the names people were calling him around town; psycho Eddie, Eddie the killer, Eddie the monster, Eddie the cult leader. He was none of those things but unfortunately only a handful of people knew that, and even less would believe you if you were to tell them the truth of the matter that you’d all pieced together bit by bit. The constant tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks every waking moment showed how much you missed him to all those around you. You missed the warmth of his body around yours at night, his sleepy smile that greeted you each morning, the tender touch of his fingers as they walked their way lovingly along your bare skin, and the way his eyes lit up every time he talked about the Hellfire club.

“He’ll be okay, we’ll figure this out,” Lucas reassures, seeing you drift off into your own little world once again.

“Hmm. I just wanna know if he’s-” the sound of the walkie bursting into life stops you in your tracks and you stare at it with wide, expectant eyes.

“Guys! A little help here please! Code RED!” Eddie’s voice says, the fear evident even through the crackling background.

“Reading you loud and clear, what’s your position?” Dustin replies.

“Uhh, some boat house about a mile from where you dropped me. It’s got string lights outside and a line of red paint on the front door.”

“On our way.”

Unfortunately for you, within two minutes of the group jumping into Steve’s car, Eddie’s been cornered by some random vigilante that had spotted him running from his previous hiding spot and has already punched him twice to make him drop the walkie and back up against the wall.

“I’ve got a whole group of people coming for me, man,” Eddie warns, hoping that someone will have some sort of weapon with them.

“I don’t believe that bullshit,” the man chuckles, landing another blow to Eddie’s face.

You’re eager, too eager, to jump out of the car as soon as you’re near to the location, and within a matter of seconds you’re leaps and bounds in front of the others as you spot the boat house you think he was referring to. The line of red paint confirms it and you waste no time in pulling the door open and walking straight into the path of an oar that comes swinging out of nowhere at your face. A shocked yelp escapes your lips before you hit the floor and knock yourself out, then the vigilante legs it out of there when he hears the others calling your name after hearing your screech, and Eddie crawls over to where you lay lifeless.

“What happened?!” Steve asks, squatting down next to you and checking for a pulse.

“Some guy,” Eddie whines, tears falling down his blood stained face, “he found me before you guys did and then… this. He ran off when he heard you lot coming. Is she okay? Please say she’s okay.”

As if on cue you let out a groan from beneath them, and Dustin grabs Eddie to pull him away from you before you see the state of his face.

“We need to get this cleaned up,” he states, making a circle with his finger around the shape of Eddie’s face, “she’s going to freak if she sees you like this.”

He roots around in his bag of tricks to find a plain piece of cloth that he dips into the shallow water that one of the boats is bobbing on and gets to work removing most of the blood from around the cuts, “it’s an improvement,” Dustin shrugs once he’s satisfied with the clean up, “now go see if she’s okay.”

You’re sitting up against the wall with Steve holding a rag up to your bloody nose, your eyes narrowed with the pain of banging your head only moments ago, but as soon as you see Eddie making his way over to you, you extend your hand and take over from Steve with the rag so you can have some privacy. Everyone gets the hint as they slowly and quietly back out of the boat house and shut the door behind them, then Eddie kneels by your side and ever so gently rests his forehead against yours.

“I’m so sorry,” he says hoarsely as his hand finds your thigh, “so sorry for all of this.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry, as long as you’re safe,” you reply, your voice muffled by the rag hanging in front of your mouth.

“Let me see,” Eddie smiles, leaning back and carefully bringing your hand away from your face with cupped hands.

Your nose drips a little but Eddie’s quick to hold the cleanest part of the cloth up against your top lip to catch the trickle, and you can see the tears in his eyes as he studies your exhausted, injured face.

“Don’t you dare cry Munson, else I’ll start as well and then you’ll have to keep that thing on my face forever.”

He laughs as a stray tear rolls down his cheek and you reach out for his face; one hand coming to a rest along his jaw while the other brings his hand down from your nose.

“I’ve missed you so much,” you sigh, unable to get another word out before he kisses you, desperate to be near you once again.

It’s hungry yet slow, passionate yet soft, and you soon have your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you pull him into your body.

“Guys, we- oh, eww!” Dustin grimaces as he pokes his head around the door to let you know it’s time to move.

“We’re coming!” Eddie calls out.

“Promise me one thing?” you ask as he helps you up from the floor.

“Anything.”

“We stay together until all this is over.”

He takes your left hand and removes one of his rings so he can place it on your finger, “I promise.”

[hebuiltfive]

WIP Snippet!

Warnings for swearing. Quite a lot of swearing. (They’re not all under the cut either, so if that’s not your thing, please stop reading now).

This story is one that is taking up every hour of my free time (though usually through little plans being made rather than actual writing). It’s becoming something that is completely self-service, and I'm really nervous about that but I’m hoping that when I do eventually get around to posting it that other people will enjoy it in some way shape or form.

This particular scene is from a section of the story that’s quite far into the action, but I had it in my head all afternoon and I had to write it out.

Evelyn’s chair scraped as she pushed it back from the table. The book she’d been reading was closed and tucked under her arm as she stood. Still, he continued to avoid her stare.

“You know something? The Scott Tracy that I knew all those years ago wouldn’t have stood for this. He wouldn’t have been pushed around so easily. I don’t know what the fuck you’ve got yourself into, Scott, but the old you would have found a way around it. The old you wouldn’t have allowed anything, gun to the head or not, get in his way from doing what he needed to do.”

Being told the truth always hurt, but in this case it felt like an ice shard straight to the heart. Evelyn was right, of course, and it burned him worse than that hot water container had, but that didn’t mean he had to stay and listen to it. Her words were the last straw.

“Yeah, well, that Scott Tracy is no longer in the fucking building, so get used to it.”

He stood, knocking the chair off balance and leaving it tumbling into the floor behind him. He was no longer just tired, he was angry.

Angry at being pushed around.

Angry at being threatened.

Angry at not being able to do what was right.

“Excuse me,” he whispered, noticing Gordon carefully studying whatever the hell was going on from the kitchenette in his peripheral. “I have to get some air.”

He made it all of three steps before her next question sunk in.

“Do you at least miss him?”

It had him stop dead in his tracks. Did he miss that old version of him? To get such a reaction, he figured he must have done, but he’d never thought about it before. Scott was Scott, and deep down he was still the same person that he’d been all those years ago. Besides, he’d never noticed any changes, but perhaps that was because change can happen slowly over time, right? His answer to her question scared him more than anything else currently did in this district of Bereznik.

“I’ve had to adapt to survive.”

“To survive what? Life? That isn’t going to cut it around here.”

Scott stayed rooted to the spot, even as he heard her socked feet pad over to him. In front of him she stood, head tilted upwards to catch his gaze. He didn’t deny her it this time. After that outburst, eye contact was probably the least he could offer by way of an olive branch.

“Look,” she continued after a few moments of that silent, understanding staring. “Whatever the hell it is, if you want me to stop asking, I will, okay? But just know that our work here will only be a success if we’re a team. We all need to know all the variables in all the situations, otherwise this isn’t going to work.”

He understood that. Truly, he did. This line of work was built in the very foundations of trust in the team, and knowing that he was withholding information wouldn’t make it any easier for him to be seen as trustworthy.

Evelyn held his gaze for a moment, allowing him one last chance to open up to her, to tell her the truth, but Scott held his silence.

She sighed. “You might not want to divulge your secrets, that’s fine, but I’ll let you in on one of mine. I miss him.”

[bakuliwrites]

Aging Lucio Headcanons

I think a lot about Lucio as he gets older and what his reactions to certain things would be. I think I promised I'd post one of these like a million years ago when I had my old tumblr. So here we go. TW: aging, mentions of death and dying

Lucio is flabbergasted- no, disgusted- at the first silver hair he spots on his blonde head. He pinches it between his fingers, inspecting it carefully in the mirror, scowling. The whole of his life, he'd hoped to be immune to the fragility of human life, but alas. Here it is. His first strand of gray. The mark of an aging man. He plucks it out, casting it aside, its very existence a mockery of Lucio's vigor.

He takes to dyeing his hair (if he doesn't dye it already) and is meticulous about it. There must be no hint of gray. He doesn't want to see even gray roots.

And then the wrinkles start to set in and Lucio is beside himself. When he looks in the mirror, all he sees is some haggard old man looking back at him (so dramatic).

I think Lucio would take to doing minorly invasive cosmetic surgery, like botox, fillers, etc... Things to relax his facial muscles, prevent wrinkles, fill out his face a bit as he loses some of the facial-roundness of youth. But nothing super intense. Mainly because Lucio strikes me as a, I'm handsome enough as it is. I don't need anyone messing around with my bone structure.

Skin care is an absolute must for him. He's already very particular about it, but as he ages, he wants to make sure he's protected from the harsh rays of the sun. Sunscreen or foundation with spf are his go-to's. You thought his skincare routine was extensive before. Now it takes him practically an hour (or more), twice a day haha.

Lucio is also very interested in maintaining his figure. He continues to work out and doesn't let his age get in the way of a healthy body.

Though Lucio likes to be waited on, hand and foot, he's not about to let himself become feeble. As he gets much, much older, he grows frustrated with his stiff joints and creaky bones. He tries his best to stay in tip-top shape until the end.

I imagine aging for him on a surface level would be extremely difficult (his perceived "loss" of his good looks, etc...), but functionally it would frustrate him, too. He never wants to be seen as weak. He wants to be taken seriously and aging to him means that you just become a doddering old goat. He watches all the young soldiers flitting about on their light feet and wonders if they make fun of him in their spare time.

Aging is absolutely terrifying to him. And not just for surface level reasons. It means he's closer and closer to the end. Though he knows in his heart that he could've died in battle in his youth, aging just feel so definitive. So withering. So lonely. He already knows what that feels like, to become feeble and lonely, from when he had the plague. He never wants to experience that again.

But with a patient MC, I think he can be convinced otherwise. He can be shown that aging is simply a part of life.

Lucio, think of your crows feet and smile lines like your battle scars. They show the world the victories and accomplishments you've had, but instead of in battles, its in happiness. Your little wrinkles are a sign of the joy you've experienced, MC will whisper softly, thumb gently caressing the crinkles in the corners of Lucio's eyes. Lucio has never thought of it that way. Perhaps MC is right: his smile lines and crows feet are marks of all the love and happiness he's achieved in his later years (though he might still do some botox, just for his own sake).

MC still looks at him like he's the most handsome man in the world. Hell, he thinks to himself, I make wrinkles and silver hair look amazing. He leans into his aging a bit more and eventually learns to live with it. He and MC can grow old together, side-by-side <3 Lucio knows he's not alone and he's grateful for that.