#I’m a person. I deserve to be loved as a person not a tool

[jonathanstims]

.

[malewifehenrycooldown]

Sometimes I think about that moment in NMH2 when Travis’s talks about how ‘despite assassins being super fucked up, are still human beings that deserve respect’ and I just… kinda get emotional over that because even though he is a pathetic loser, he’s not wrong!! He’s absolutely correct!!

Assassins are more than just tools! They are more than just bloodthirsty killers! They had lives! Dreams! Personalities! Interests!! Family!! They had things that they cared about but had no choice but to abandon them, because the life of an assassin is cruel one with constant competition. The genuine horror of it is realising that at any moment, a ranking fight would be set and on that day of the fight you’d have to accept the fact that you might not walk out the door, it’s sad!! It’s horrifying! And with each little bit of info on the assassins you get you can’t help but feel bad for them. Sure they knew what they were signing up for but that doesn’t mean they can’t have a dignified/honourable death !!

[micer2012]

a reflection on MatPat's plagiarism

Hello, my name is Della, or micer2012, and 2 years ago Game Theory plagiarized three Tumblr posts of mine, making a video that now holds almost 6 million views.

My posts explaining his plagiarism made their rounds on Reddit, Tumblr and Twitter, but despite the Hermits and Pooka commenting on it (generally in support of me or saying they don’t know enough details about the situation to say either way), MatPat and his team have never owned up to anything, and no mention of my name is present on the video. The one Reddit post they made denying it (which was made before my detailed takedown, which they have never responded to (though the mods on the r/GameTheorists Reddit were kind and made sure it stayed up)) didn’t even mention me by name, just referring to me as “a tumblr user”. (Though one of the screenshotted comments in the body of the post does say my name)

This experience was baffling, but it’s overall had a positive impact on my life. r/Hermitcraft gave me a Golden Apple Award (post of the year, 2021). My inbox was filled with excited fans, wanting to ask me questions or pose their own theories, far more than the hate I got. (Though the hate I got from Game Theory fans was VERY funny. I wondered why none of them gave me shit about saying “MatPat misgendered Evil Xisuma” before realizing none of them read that far into the post.)

And getting on a more personal, and much more important note, I met most of my current online friends through this, including my partner. It helped me grow closer with my irl friends as well and gave me an entertaining story that I tell whenever I have the chance. It was one of the first things in my life that really made me feel like my talents, my autistic hyperfocusing and analyzing of things I love, could be valuable. Useful. Exploitable. It blew my mind that MatPat thought an autistic kid’s ramblings about a Minecraft Youtube joke character were good enough to steal. To put an audible sponsorship on. To get 6 million views off of.

And that’s why I’m writing this post, this update years later. As you might’ve been able to guess, Hbomberguy’s Youtube video on plagiarism reopened this wound. It was really hard for me to sit through, it took days of pausing and taking breaks, because I had experienced everything he was talking about firsthand. 

In my 10 page long takedown post, I wrote about how his rewording of my sentences made him say things that were incorrect, just like Filip did. The content farm production style that made big companies like Cinemassacre take one creator (AVGN/MatPat) and turn him and his content into a brand, a voice that reads out scripts by other people with other opinions/theories, is a history shared with Game Theory. What really hit me was Harris talking about how big creators only do this to people they think they can get away with doing it to. How they view their victims as lesser, as not deserving of their words, repackaging them as their own to give to an audience that can gain from hearing them, but deserves better than to have to listen to the original victim.

That’s the thing, I 100% think a video version of my theory to expose to a bigger community than “Evil Xisuma Fans on Tumblr” is a great idea!! Near the end of the video Harris talks about how video adaptations of things could be a great market, even an accessibility tool, and I completely feel that about my posts. I wrote them quickly assuming the reader was someone well versed on Evil Xisuma lore, after not even watching most of the CarnEvil series, and the diagrams I made to explain them are even less comprehensible. Harris makes a joke that I completely agree with, 

“I’m sure some of my videos would do very well if someone translated them into English.”

I don’t think I would’ve ever made my posts if I didn’t have autism, and a special fixation on Evil Xisuma and Hermitcraft. I made them because I felt the character was being done an injustice, and because I wanted to share with other superfans this theory that might explain it away. I do think that MatPat plagiarizing me was ableist. I used to wonder a lot if this would’ve happened if my posts were articulated better, if they had been peer reviewed, if the posts themselves had been spread to a wider audience before MatPat made his video. At one point when the discourse was fresh (before I had the time to write out my 10 page rebuttal), a bigger YouTuber (100k subs at the time) messaged me and started talking on Discord, interested in possibly making a video on the discourse, but I think my style of typing and general enthusiasm drove him away. You can tell by a single look at my blog (or my original 3 posts!) that I don’t usually type like this. This post you’re reading now has been peer reviewed and edited, and took me hours to format correctly. That video could’ve been huge, the entire outcome of this MatPat situation would probably be much different.

I also used to stress a lot about “being the one who ruined Evil Xisuma’s story”. If you didn’t know, to me S8 Evil Xisuma’s story got wrapped up pretty quickly and unsatisfying (in my personal autistic opinion). (though this might’ve been due to s8 being experimental and ending early with moon big) There was no real culmination of the plot points and arcs going on, and I don’t want to blame myself, but when Xisuma said on stream (when the MatPat thing was first going on) that he didn’t want to focus on the discourse or draw more attention to it, it makes a lot of sense to me that he just wanted to wrap it all up as quickly as possible. For a while I beat myself up about it, of ruining the story of this character I love, but it’s not my fault. If anyone’s, it’s MatPats, but I don’t think it’s useful to just blame someone else. That’s how the story ended up going, and that’s fine. This is Evil Xisuma we’re talking about, their inconsistent lore is what made them such an interesting character. And notably, Pooka made an animation with an awesome culmination of Jeff, the Dreamer, Evil Xisuma, and his own sona’s story, and it makes me so happy to watch. Whatever Pooka does is of course his own choice, but I’m glad he got to give this personal story his own ending (if it is an ending, and not just the start of a new chapter!). 

Typing this all out and getting it off my chest has made me feel a lot better. For a while I wanted to make my OWN video essay about Evil Xisuma’s lore and CarnEvil’s lore, actually going episode by episode to explain it instead of just assuming you knew as much about Evil Xisuma as I did. That idea is still not off the table, but MCYT isn’t something I’m that into right now. Maybe if something else comes out about Evil Xisuma I’ll get back on it, but for now I’m fine with letting that go. But I want to make other videos, share other theories and analysis… if I have the freetime I’d love to make YouTube videos, and if I don’t have the time I’ll continue posting to my tumblr and infodumping to my friends. Apparently my infodumping is valuable enough “content” to steal! Writing this out has made me feel a lot better though, I’m really glad I got it out.

If anyone ever wants to talk to me about the things I’m obsessed with, or reach out to me as a source in a bigger discussion about Game Theory or other channels, my inbox is more than welcome :] Thank you for reading! 

Sincerely, a tumblr user.

[charredpages]

[Alt text] ten screenshots of text posts by the user themme_fatale on Instagram. The text reads:

(1/10)

Do you remember the exact moment that anti-masking stopped being a far-right talking point

And became advice you were willing to follow?

(2/10)

I try to make the ways I communicate about COVID as compassionate and non-judgemental as possible because I understand that we have all been failed in this and my primary anger is always upwards.

BUT

I also need you to understand - if you are not taking precautions, you are aligning yourself with eugenicists.

The person who actively says “fuck disabled people they deserve to 💀” and never masks, and the person who never masks because “It’s annoying and besides-no one else is” are BOTH devaluing people’s lives.

(3/10)

And that might feel confronting for some of you, and I know the knee-jerk reaction is probably going to be to deflect by accusing me of “shaming people” or whatever.

I’m not shaming anyone though - it’s just uncomfortable to sit with because if you’re the kind of person who follows me chances are you don’t actually want to be engaging in eugenics.

And re-engaging with the idea that COVID is not only still around, but still actively dangerous is asking a lot of you when the alternative is the comfort of denial.

Especially when so many of the tools to keep ourselves and each other safe have been taken away from us. But the thing is none of that is actually a reason not to act.

(4/10)

There are people IN YOUR COMMUNITY relying on you to take precautions so that they don’t d1e.

(5/10)

With love, and compassion for the fact that this shit is hard - ignorance is running out as an excuse. It’s time to do better, and help your mates do better too.

People in your community shouldn’t have to constantly remind you not to put their lives in danger. Surely you can see that’s a pretty fucked up dynamic, right?

(6/10)

We shouldn’t have to push so hard on “it’s good for you to protect yourself too!” Like it still absolutely is, but saving the lives of people in your community should actually be enough to motivate you to act.

It’s genuinely fucked up to be ok with a whole proportion of the population being either being locked in their homes indefinitely or at risk of 💀 on the daily.

(7/10)

It should be considered more socially awkward to engage in eugenics by k1lling and isolating disabled people in your own community than it is to put on a mask

The fact that it’s not should embarrass all of us until we change it.

(8/10)

It should be considered more selfish to put people’s lives at risk than to ask to be kept safe

Your choices can change or reinforce that culture.

(9/10)

Government inaction puts a weapon in your hand

Pretending it’s not there puts us all in danger

(10/10)

Why do you require a mandate to care about other people?

[sky-is-the-limit]

Omg girl those firefighter headcanons 😩 can we have some for our Captain? The way you write them is so canon I can't get enough 😩

P: Chief!Price x F!Civilian Reader

CW:SFW/NSFW, Unprotected P in V, No prep

Notes: CFO = Chief Fire Officer.(Highest Rank)

Firefighter!Gaz

CFO!Price who would answer the call himself when he heard it was a gas leak late at night, figuring he’d handle it personally since it was quiet.

Arriving in the fire command vehicle, he'd knock firmly on your door, his expression all business, though his gaze softened when he saw you standing there in an oversized tshirt, hair tousled from sleep, with clear anxiety etched on your face. ''Alright, love, I’m here now.'' He’d say in that deep, reassuring voice of his. ''Let’s have a look, yeah?''

CFO!Price who would take his time checking every corner of your flat with intensive care, making sure to run every test twice. The whole while, he'd keep his eyes focused on the job but couldn't help the occasional stolen glance at your legs peeking from under that oversized shirt.

He’d feel a twinge of guilt when he caught himself staring a little too long, quickly averting his eyes and focusing back on his work. He was the Captain, after all. He couldn’t let his professionalism slip, at least not yet..

CFO!Price who would notice the way you bit your bottom lip, your brows furrowed with concern. So he'd make sure to use a softer tone when speaking, expression gentle, ''It’s all routine, don’t you worry.'' He’d murmur, even though his mind was racing with thoughts that made him shift uncomfortably. His blue eyes would meet yours just for a second, and he'd quickly look away, cursing himself for feeling like a rookie again.

CFO!Price who would be taken aback when you started calling him 'sir' in that sweet voice, finding it hard to keep his composure when you leaned down next to him, your eyes wide and curious as you asked about the equipment he was using. Your hand would brush his arm lightly, and he'd feel a warmth spread up his neck.

"You’ve got a knack for this, don’t you?" He’d joke lightly, his gruff exterior softening just a bit. When you offered him a glass of water and some homemade biscuits, he'd accept, just to see that radiant smile of yours.

CFO!Price who would pretend to stay focused on his tools but his eyes would keep drifting to where you sat on the counter, legs crossed in such a way that, if he were to look up, he’d catch a glimpse of those black satin panties.

He’d clear his throat, trying to banish the thought, but the idea of those soft thighs squeezing around his head would be driving him insane. He’d have to remind himself he wasn’t some 20-year-old who couldn’t control his urges.

CFO!Price who would raise an eyebrow when you mentioned paying him for his time, knowing full well that there’s no charge for fire department inspections.

''There’s no need for that, love.'' He’d say, his eyes narrowing slightly at your playful tone but when you’d lean in with that cheeky grin, batting your lashes and saying there must be something you could do to thank him for his hard work, he'd feel his resolve slipping.

CFO!Price who would tell himself that no one needed to know, that after years of maintaining his professionalism, he could afford this one indulgence. After all, he was still a man, and you were making it clear that you wanted him as much as he was starting to want you. He’d fight the internal battle, reminding himself that he deserved to experience this, just this once.

CFO!Price who would, after washing his hands and ensuring everything was safe, start walking towards you with a different purpose. The job was done, but he wasn’t ready to leave and so, his hand would slide onto your thigh, feeling the softness of your skin beneath his calloused fingers. He’d take your chin in his other hand, lifting your face to meet his gaze, his voice dropping to a low, rough murmur. ''I can think of a few things you could do to thank me, sweetheart.''

CFO!Price who would find himself captivated by your insistence that no prep was necessary, your body already so aroused that you needed nothing more.

When he dropped his uniform pants and guided your hand into his boxers, the sudden touch of his erect cock against your palm would elicit a gasp from you. The size and heat of him would make your previous confidence waver, but your need would drive you to dismiss any hesitation.

CFO!Price who would guide your delicate hand along his thick, throbbing length, his breath catching as you explored every inch of him. The intensity of your touch and the way you traced his girth would make his second thinking crumble further. He’d watch your expression closely, his eyes dark with desire as he discovered how eager you were for him.

CFO!Price who would murmur, "Such a good girl for me." as he pushes you back onto the counter, his broad hands firmly spreading your thighs apart. Your pussy’s already dripping, slick coating your inner thighs, and he groans low in his chest, soaking in the sight of you, so ready, so needy for him.

His cockhead nudges against your entrance and he’s got his eyes locked on you, taking in every little gasp, every flutter of your lashes as he sinks the first few inches into your tight heat. Your walls stretch around him, clenching down hard, and you let out a sharp moan, nails biting into his biceps.

CFO!Price who would slide his hands under your ass, gripping tight as he pushes deeper, stretching you open inch by inch. The burn of him is overwhelming, but your wetness makes it easy, makes you crave it. He'd whisper rough and focused, "You feel that, love? So tight, so fucking perfect for me."

Each word is like gravel, setting your skin on fire as he thrusts in fully, hips meeting yours with a sharp smack that has you crying out. Your back arches, tits pressing up against his chest, and you can feel the rumble of his groan vibrating through you.

CFO!Price who would pull back just to thrust in hard, setting a slow, punishing rhythm that has your thighs trembling around his waist. His cock drags against your slick walls, every inch filling you perfectly, hitting spots that have your toes curling. You're dripping down onto the counter, the lewd, wet sounds of your slick mixing with his grunts and your high-pitched moans.

"Fuck, John-" You whimper, your voice breathless as your fingers curl into his hair, tugging him closer. He rewards you by sucking on your neck, teeth grazing against your skin as he mutters filthy praises against your ear.

CFO!Price who would grab one of your legs, pushing it up against his side, opening you even wider for him as he pounds into you harder. You can feel every ridge, every vein of his thick cock stretching you out, and it makes you gush even more.

His rough thumb would come down to press on your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles that have you bucking your hips against him, chasing that high.

CFO!Price who would watch you, absolutely wrecked and spread out for him, his name a desperate cry on your lips. "Look at you, taking me so well." he'd growl out thick with lust. "Knew you were trouble the moment I saw you."

CFO!Price who would feel you tighten around him, your walls squeezing as you edge closer to that peak. He’s relentless, plunging into you so hard you see stars, your mind blanking out from the overwhelming pleasure.

His thumb on your clit speeds up, pressing down harder. "Come on, love," he’d urge, strained with his own mounting need to fill you up. "Cum for me. Show me how much you fucking need this." And you do as he says, your body locks up and then you’re cumming, gushing around him with a yelp that has your nails digging into his back.

CFO!Price who would keep thrusting through your orgasm, your pussy gripping him like a vice, milking his cock. His thrusts become erratic, hips snapping forward with a desperation that sends shocks of pleasure shooting through you.

He’s close and you can feel him throbbing inside you, thick and heavy. "Gonna fill you up, yeah?" he’d grunt, his pace frenzied now, chasing that final high. And with a few more deep, rough thrusts, he’s spilling inside you, his hot cum flooding your already slick walls.

CFO!Price who would stay buried deep, both of you panting and spent, his cock twitching as the last ropes of his cum seep out of you. He'd lean down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, his beard scraping against your sweaty skin. When he finally pulls away, breath ragged, he’d rest his forehead against yours, giving a light chuckle. "That’s one way to thank your local fire department, eh?"

[hurlingdown]

mmhmmphmm sukuna begging..but hear me out on this…sukuna begging for MY FORGIVENESS. thinkkk about it thinkkk about it. to have him groveling at your knees, desperate to be filled, marked, touched, caressed, loved, spat on, anything. as long as it’s from to have him bend at you will. the feeling of bringing the king of curses down to the dirt, to treat such royalty as you own personal cum dump. AHSJHXHCHUHHDHDHHandkcnsknffknfh

if you couldn’t tell I’m kinda obsessed with the recent sukuna fic :p

-💫

godd you're making me crave him. wasn't even that much of a (canon) sukuna fan especially after reading the manga, but i feel like i could forgive him for mass genocide if he grovelled at my feet.

imagine using your cock as a bargaining tool with sukuna because you know he's helplessly addicted to it, telling him not to kill anyone within a week or he won't get fucked for twice as long as that. obviously he fails. needless to say, he'll spend long nights fingering himself to sleep while starving for your touch, long days whining and begging for your forgiveness, hole so empty it physically aches. does he really deserve to be forgiven though - is the question.

anyways here's a snippet of the recent fic that i removed. crybaby sukuna you own my heart and soul.

[pantherxrogers]

poolside service - jun x fem!reader (smut 18+ only)

🌊 pairing: pool guy!jun x housewife!reader (both are in their late 20s)

🌊 warnings: smut (18t only), infidelity (reader's husband cheats on her. then the reader cheats on him but he totally deserves it 🤭), explicit language, dry humping, fluff (jun is down baaaad. so is the reader low key)

🌊 summary: you and jun have known each other for a while. you're a lonely housewife, and he's the friendly pool guy. you've created a unique, sweet friendship. but, maybe you both want something more?

🌊 a/n: divider by @jilval /i'm still incredibly pissed off about the svt US tour dates. but junhui's inherent sexiness has nothing to do with that. and i love him. so enjoy! :D

my masterlist

This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent real events or the actual personalities of any K-pop idols mentioned. All characters and situations are purely imaginary. This story is created for entertainment purposes only, and no harm or disrespect is intended toward the idols or their fans. Enjoy!

jun came here to do a job.

he’s well aware of that. but he can’t bring himself to do it. instead, all he can focus on is you.he thinks you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

you look like a queen, elegantly lounging on your pool chair. your skin glitters in the sunlight. the skimpy, cherry red bikini makes his swim trunks feel even tighter than before. the strings rest nicely in the slender curve of your waist, teasing him to no end.

feeling like a perv, he forces himself to tear his eyes away from your body. even if it’s the last thing that he wants to do right now. but the huge diamond on your left hand is enough to knock some sense back into him.

you’re married. he knows that. but, if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t really give a fuck.

he’s wanted you for a while now. jun knows your husband doesn't deserve you. the man is never unkind to you, but jun would treat you so much better. maybe he can’t afford this mansion or any of the other luxuries your husband provides. but he would be wholly devoted to you and only you. something that he suspects your husband can’t say for himself.

“jun, i made some lemonade. i’m going to run inside and grab us a couple glasses. 'kay?” your sweet voice pulls him away from his thoughts. all he can do is smile and nod, infatuated by your kind nature and the way you always take care of him.

and maybe he’s also infatuated with the way your perky little ass sways as you skip back into the house.

not much time passes before you come back and stand in front of jun. he nods his thanks, gently taking the glass away from you.

you sip your drink slowly, eyeing jun the whole time. he's a tall guy, and the height difference makes you feel tingly all over. he closes his eyes as he sips. his little moan of appreciation makes your tummy stir.

“it’s really good, thank you,” jun praises, loving the bashful look on your face. he always makes sure to compliment you. it comes naturally to him, especially since he means every word. he knows your husband is too much of a tool to do it, and he’d never let you go about your day feeling unappreciated.

just like every week, the two of you chat for a while. it’s a comfortable routine. jun listens to you ramble about the other housewives in the neighborhood, while he cleans the pool and offers his two cents. everything is fine. until it's not.

“i think my husband is cheating on me with her.”

“he’s a fucking dumbass.” jun’s response is quick and surprises both of you. thick silence hangs in the air, and jun feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest. he’s never spoken ill of your husband in front of you. 

the sound of your soft sniffles breaks his heart into two. "oh honey, i'm sorry." his arms wrap around you in a second. this is the closest he's ever been to you, and it takes everything in his power to ignore the feeling of your soft body against his own.

"it's okay, i think i've known for a while. but lately, they've been making it more obvious," you sniffle, snuggling further into jun's warmth. as you lay your head against his firm chest, you hear his heart beating rapidly. it's kind of sweet, actually.

it's impossible to ignore the chemistry in the air. when your lazy husband hired a pool guy, you were pleasantly surprised when jun showed up on your doorstep. you've been with your husband since high school, so you don't have much experience with other men. but jun has always made you curious.

"i really did mean what i said. he's an idiot. he's got the perfect woman at home, and he can't even recognize it." the honesty in his voice heals something inside of you. jun's soft, brown eyes gaze into your own, full of admiration. you feel warmth rise to your cheeks, suddenly feeling shy beneath the intensity of his stare.

“thank you, jun.” your voice is no louder than a whisper. but jun hears you anyway. he always does.

there’s another beat of silence. the tension is thick, and you’re suddenly aware of how close he is. the summer sun has done wonders for his skin, gifting him with a beautiful honey color. his body is toned and strong, yet he still manages to look lean.

jun glides a hand up your smooth neck, cradling your cheek. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, eyes dropping down to your full pout. he watches the way you nibble on your bottom lip, the sight making him dizzy. the sound of your quiet thanks makes him smirk. you’re such a good girl. he’s done housework for plenty of the rich assholes in the neighborhood, but you’ve always made him feel good about his work.

“you're beautiful, too.” the truth in your tone surprises him. it also makes his heart skip a beat. he can’t wrap his head around the possibility that you may feel even a fraction of what he feels for you. but he could get used to the idea.

when he sees your eyelids flutter, jun’s heart quivers. before he can overthink it, he presses his lips against your own.

the kiss is sweet, spreading butterflies throughout your tummy. you kiss him back with enthusiasm, gliding your hand up his firm chest to wrap your arms around his neck. his strong arms wrap around your waist causing a stir in your tummy.

the kiss continues for a while, the pair of you exploring the other. jun can’t believe this is happening to him and fears that he’s going to wake up any second. he slips his hands down below your waist, cupping your thighs.

you take the hint quickly, lifting up to wrap your legs around his waist. you gasp, suddenly aware of the growing tent pressing right up against your center.

“shit, i’m sorry.” he sounds embarrassed, a deep blush tinting his cheeks. the sight makes you swoon. you’ve always loved jun’s soft, shy nature.

“it’s okay, sweetie. i really don’t mind.” your tone is so soft and reassuring. jun hopes you don’t notice the way it makes him harden even more.

he carries you over to your chaise, sitting down with you straddling his lap. before he continues, there’s something he needs to get out of the way first.

“so, i’ve been dreaming about this-and you-every night for the past year. but i also don’t want to put you in a position where you do something you might regret later. i should’ve asked before kissing you. and i’m really sorry that i didn’t.” his tone is firm, yet gentle. it only makes you want him more.

“you’ve been dreaming about me?” you stare back at him with doe eyes, and he swears he might cum in his pants any second. he lets out a groan, the last of his resolve slowly slipping away. “honey, did you hear anything else i said after that?”

you giggle in response, nodding your head to answer him. “i did. and i really appreciate your concern. but i’ve been wanting this for a looong time.” jun’s hands squeeze your waist, grounding himself in the feel of you. he still can’t believe you’re saying all of this to him.

he’s looking at you like you’ve hung the moon and stars. you’ve never been more certain about anything in your life. you need jun. and if his hard on is any indicator, you’re pretty sure he feels the same.

“so...” you trail a manicured finger down his chest, “do you want to keep going?”

he’s nodding before you can finish your question. his hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. he’s on you in an instant, meeting your lips with fervor. your lips are sweet and soft against his own, the subtle hint of lemonade makes his head dizzy. he swears he’s never felt this good in his life.

you grind your hips down against him, involuntarily clenching when he lets out a deep groan. “fuck, baby. you’re gonna make me cum in my pants,” jun huffs out, head lulling back against the chair.

challenge accepted.

you lean forward, pressing soft kisses against the sensitive curve of his neck. jun lets out a quiet moan, bucking his hips into your warmth. your bikini offers no barrier. he can feel the heat of your arousal through his shorts. the sensation drives him mad. he grabs your hips again, suddenly grinding with more purpose.

“oh, jun,” you moan out. he can hear your warm little huffs of pleasure, your mouth near his ear. the way you cling to his body does wonders for his confidence, finally settling into a steady rhythm. “does that feel good, baby? hmm?” he coos, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“mmm, yes. feels so good,” you hum, matching the rhythm of his hips. you’re grateful for the lush landscaping you insisted on having. the palm trees offer protection from the prying eyes of your neighbors and allow you to fully succumb to the pleasure that jun offers.a thin layer of sweat covers his golden skin. it stems from both the heat of the sun and the intensity between the pair of you.

with every grind of your hips, jun swears he’s going to burst in his shorts. but he finds the strength to control himself. he brings his hands up to your chest, anxiously hovering for a moment. “y-you can touch me, junnie.” the nickname and the feel of your full breasts is almost too much for him. they’re soft and warm in his hands, he can’t help but grope you shamelessly.

the feel of his strong hands makes your clit throb. he rolls your hard nipples between his fingers, causing a warm shiver to run down your spine. you grind down harder against him, needing more and more. you feel yourself nearing the edge, but you never want this to end.

“you’re so beautiful, fuck. everything about you is perfect.”

jun’s praise makes your head dizzy. you know you’ll be coming in seconds, but you need more. “c-can, you untie my bottoms please?” your cheeks burn, but you can’t find it in yourself to regret asking him.

he quickly fumbles with the string, peeling your bottoms away from your wet cunt. the sound he lets out is animalistic, overwhelmed by your pretty pussy. he stares at it for too long, unable to look away. he wills himself not to cum, wanting you to experience as much pleasure as possible. wetting his thumb between his lips, he draws a slow circle on your clit.

"ah, jun. shit!” you mewl, bucking your hips. he's creating the perfect pressure against your clit, sending you tumbling over the edge in no time.

jun studies your face while you orgasm. he swears he’s never seen anything this beautiful in his life. he grips your hips gently, slowly dragging your hips to prolong the pleasure. the euphoria on your face triggers his own orgasm, making a mess of his trunks. he's seeing white behind his eyelids, lost in a haze of pleasure.

both of you ride out your highs, soft puffs of air filling the space between you. you crash into his chest, basking in the glow of an unexpected orgasm. “wow.”

“yeah. i swear i’m dreaming right now, but that was the best orgasm i’ve ever had in my life. i came in my pants like a fucking teenager, though,” he giggles, triggering your own laugh. you cuddle you further into his frame, finding solace in his body.

jun knows he needs to get up eventually and clean both of you up, but he can’t find it in himself to move. the way your body lays against his own feels like everything he’s ever wanted. he likes taking care of you and bringing whatever comfort he has to offer.

you press soft kisses against his chest, breathing in his scent. he smells fresh and clean, with a faint scent of sunscreen underneath. you could get used to this feeling.

lucky for you, jun wants nothing more than just that.

[endomentendo]

Welcome my sluggers 🐌

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⭐️Masterposts:

Digital wonderland

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📝 Commissions: closed for now

💰 -You can support, commission, or request on KOFI. Every penny helps.

Join the mad tea party!!

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¿Get to know me:¿

Who/what are you?: I am just a goober, a dumb goober who likes to draw and who wants to stay as an enigma.

what tools do you use?: I mainly use procreate on an iPad, I use the narinder brush for inking and sketching.

What’s your interest?:

The Magnus archives

Tadc

Alice in wonderland

slugs

horror

platonic or romantic fictional relationships

mystery/monsters

suspense

Splatoon

Old times stuff

Animation/storyboard/concept art/ect.

4. What are your restrictions?: Not much besides the obvious.

I won’t tolerate any harassment toward anyone, friends, or myself. I won’t answer any asks I don’t have an answer to, or if they’re spammed non stop.

I don’t take requests, unless it’s directly from KOFI: only costs five dollars.

please know I’m very slow minded, but feel free to make fun of me.

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If you reached this far, know that my tumblr is a safe place to love yourself. You’re an amazing person I know you can be. Grow, learn, and love. Strive for your passion and take life by the reigns. Get at it and give yourself a warm hug, cause darn it, you deserve it! ❤️

[dark-and-kawaii]

ok HEAR ME OUT your last raphael fic was magnificent and got me..thinking of things🫣 imagine him taking tav with him to the HoH after impregnating (if he hasn’t yet before), to always keep an eye on her progress and to f her whenever he pleases of course, worshipping her body like she’s a goddess as she grows

I may have gotten carried away with this, but I really enjoy Raphael and this request had me cooking for a while. It got dark near the end but we gotta remember this is still Raphael bahaha!!! Thank you for the love and support 🫶 I really hope you like this anon

Raphael - Pregnancy - Possessiveness - Death - Protectiveness - NSFW

Raphael’s world was turned upside down when he discovered that you were carrying his child- an heir that awakened an intense sense of ownership within him. Should anything happen to his child or you he’d rip every soul from every last being once he claimed the nine Hells. Consumed by these feelings, he had made the decision to bring you back to Hell with him, driven by a need to keep a watchful eye on your pregnancy's progress.

With each curve of your growing form, Raphael is both enraptured and possessively drawn to you. He admires your pregnant beauty as if you were a goddess, your radiance captivating and enthralling him. Unyielding desires surge through his veins, fueled by a hunger for power and utter control. Raphael sees your pregnancy as the ultimate manifestation of yours and his union, a divine creation meant to bring forth an heir worthy of his wicked legacy.

Walking through his House of Hope, Raphael's lustful needs called for fulfillment, and it was you he would seek out… Bypassing his personal incubus, Haarlep. Perhaps he’d come back to the fool once his child came to be in this world… As for now though, Raphael only wished to devour you whole and to watch you come undone on his cock once more while his hands rested on the swell of your stomach.

Your moans and pleasurable screams could be heard throughout the boudoir and into the grand hall of Raphael’s domain. He savored the way your voice grew louder, quivering as you urged him on, the rhythmic thumping of his bed against the wall getting faster as you bounced on his cock vigorously. His name slipping from your lips while you cum on his pretty cock for the third time that night.

“Always so eager to please me, rest now little mouse. You deserve it after such a riveting performance.”

With your head now rested on Raphael’s chest, your body coated in sweat as you slept soundly… He glides the tip of his fingers down your exposed flesh as Haarlep watches their master display a rare form of affection.

Haarlep, driven by their own carnal desires, could not comprehend the depth of Raphael's love for you. For you were only supposed to be tool for him to use. Has his master grown soft? Mocking and taunting, Haarlep belittles Raphael's affections for you, “A once lost thief in the night now held tight by the devil himself as if she were some precious treasure. How-“.

Raphael scrunched his nose with stern disapproval, he had enough of Haarlep’s impish behavior and warns his incubus, “If you aren’t careful dear pet you may find yourself hanging in the basement with our dear friend, Hope.” The devil made it abundantly clear that his love for you was to be respected and not ridiculed… Haarlep stayed silent, their tail resting on your leg- a sign that they know their place and will do their best to keep their masters lover safe when not around.

A deep laugh emanated from Raphael’s chest, “Good. I’m delighted that you’ve found sense again, I was worried there for a moment.”

Though as time went by Haarlep's mockery persisted, but Raphael's unwavering love for you remained true as your pregnancy progressed. He refused to let anyone, not even Haarlep, cast doubt on his devotion. With a immoral determination to protect you his beloved, and his unborn child; Raphael defended you against the jeers and taunts of Haarlep, showing that his feelings were not to be trifled with...

One morning you awoke to a strange coldness… Both Haarlep and Raphael were usually entwined with you each and every time you awoke… Yet, “Raphael,” you call out to him, nudging him attempting to wake him, “where is Haarlep?” The devil pulls you into him best he can without putting pressure on your stomach, his wings enveloping you, “You’ll be leaving with Korilla in an hour to Baldurs Gate. Make haste and get ready, you don’t want to keep her waiting.” You could hear the grin in his voice, “I expect a visit from my dear father, Mephistopheles and I rather you not be present when he shows.”

A chill runs through you with every word your fiendish lover speaks… Raphael wickedly confessing to you that he has taken the life of his incubus, no remorse or regret evident.

[strawberrystepmom]

cw: alcohol mention, suggestive. narumi x f!reader. anatomy is mentioned (breasts). reader works for the jakdf as a seismologist and is specifically not japanese or from japan. | word count: 1.2k, reading time: 5 minutes.

“Tachibana is such an asshole.” 

Narumi’s rant, the one that started while you gently scrubbed his back in the shower after scurrying back to your apartment hand in hand, has managed to continue all the way into your bedroom. 

“I swear to anyone listening I’m going to make him run until his legs fall off tomorrow.”

Tonight marked the third time the first division has invited you out to enjoy drinks and dinner with them in the three months you’ve officially been here. They intentionally sat you and Gen next to each other, pouring gratuitous amounts of alcohol into both of your cups the moment they were emptied. 

“That’s not very nice,” you tut from your side of the bed, comforter still pulled down so your boyfriend can climb in beside you. He does so with a groan, instantly reaching for your chest to squeeze one of your t-shirt clad tits. 

“It’s not very nice of him to look down your shirt while I’m sitting right fucking there either, now is it?”

Your nipple pebbles in response to the stimulation and he chuckles to himself, kicking the blankets around his legs until he’s settled.

A night out that turns into a grudge isn’t an entirely uncommon occurrence for him. Every time you come along he ends up frustrated that someone wants to grab your attention from him, asking you questions about your personal life and how you’re finding Tokyo now that autumn has slowly started to give way to winter. Does everyone have to be so friendly all the time?

Turning your head to face him for a moment, you raise a brow and smirk. 

“Are you jealous?”

Sighing, he tips his head back against the pillow that has been designated as his since the first time he slept over and stares at the ceiling.

“No, I just don’t want him thinking he can look at what belongs to me.”

A puzzled giggle escapes you, Gen still kneading at the soft flesh of your breast. 

“Is that not the textbook definition of jealousy?” There’s the faintest trace of a pout across his handsome features, dimly lit as they are in your dark bedroom. “Besides, it’s not like you publicly claim me. He has no way of knowing and I have a feeling that if anything, he was trying to distract me long enough for Shinonome to talk to you.”

The pout is gone, replaced with gritted teeth. A nerve has been struck, although you didn’t quite intend it to end up that way. It’s enough that he had to watch you be ogled by another man as you graciously leaned forward to fill his cup as he has done yours, now you’ve brought up his subordinate he knows bothers you thanks to her open admiration that leans on more than just hero worship in your opinion. 

Clearly he isn’t the only one suffering from a little condition that starts with a J and has a tendency to turn someone green. 

“That’s your decision not mine,” he shoots back, shifting onto his side so he can curl his body around you. His grip on your flesh will leave behind marks if it goes on too long. With a hiss, you reach for his wrist but he untenses his fingers before you can. The touch returns to the same gentle massaging motion although his mouth remains open and sneering. Narumi sighs and his second hand joins the first in squeezing. 

“Even if they found out, what would they do? Kick me out?”

You turn onto your side, facing him, fingers making their way around the back of his neck to gently scratch his neck and scalp the way you know he likes. It isn’t hard to make him putty in your hands and although you try not to resort to extremes, you need every tool you can get when he’s this worked up. 

His eyes flutter shut and the clench in his jaw slowly relaxes under your gentle touch, softer than maybe this level of petulance deserves but love makes us all soft in ways we don’t always expect. 

It’s why the fear of being found out always tinges these intimate moments with a bit more gray than you’d prefer. You used to simply like Gen. Enjoying his company gradually turned into being unable to function without it which has now led to this, two bodies in one bed, both smelling a bit of sake even though you showered together before peeling the sheets back. 

Somehow being here with him feels more fleeting than loving him from just over 5,000 miles away. 

The fraternization policy at the JAKDF is loosely enforced for enlisted members. Unfortunately, you are not enlisted nor is your work that of killing kaiju which automatically makes you slightly more disposable than your partner. 

“Maybe not you but they’d definitely fire me. Then I’d have to go home, we’d be long distance again, and you’d never get to sleep at night.” Shaking your head, you lean in to press your nose against his. “Not an ideal situation.”

He dips his head to press his nose right back against yours. 

“I could just tell them you’re essential to keep me happy,” he offers and you giggle. “I’m not joking. Keeping me happy should be their first priority anyway.”

There is a bit more humor in what he’s saying than he’ll let on, especially since you both know his subordinates are onto you to some extent. 

Giggling, you rub your nose against his again. He takes it further, dipping his head so that your lips brush against his. Ever greedy, he kisses you so much it almost makes you forget what you’re about to say. You break away before any further distraction can appear, lips still touching even if they aren’t locked. 

“Let’s pretend that you gave them such an ultimatum. What would you even say?”

The once gentle scratching against his scalp has become light tugging at his dark strands of hair and his knee has shoved its way between your thighs, the room growing warmer with each touch. Any distance remaining between the two of you has now been diminished, skin touching skin while he gazes down at you with heavily lidded eyes.

“I’d remind them of how difficult I was before being able to cum in you all the time.”

Opening your mouth to dispute his claims, or to at least ask him to have some decorum, he takes the opportunity to kiss you again before you can. His tongue slides between your teeth to tangle with yours, hands sliding from your chest to your hips and ass that are now being squeezed and kneaded.

Pulling away to catch your breath, lips slicked with spit and pussy resting warmly against the taut muscle of his thigh while he grinds it against you, you giggle breathlessly.

“And who else can say that they do that? Certainly not Tachi –”

Gen captures your lips once again, preventing another man’s name from spilling out of your sweet lips hurriedly. He can let bygones be bygones and if tonight keeps up how it’s going so far, he won’t make him run until his legs break in the morning for stealing a peek.

Maybe.

[ginnyruin]

i'm sorry but the nurchie "art" is clearly AI generated??? can we please stop sharing and praising shit that some algorithm spat out without ever asking the original creators whose work it steals and regurgitates for their permission

- sincerely, a pissed-off artist

Hello,

I’m going to set the record straight, and I’d suggest you read carefully before making any more baseless accusations. Nurchie is an actual artist—a trained one, with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in digital art and two-dimensional studies (drawing and painting) from a prestigious university. She has 16 years of professional design/digital art experience, and a publicly documented portfolio going back well before AI art even existed.

go look at her earliest work on Deviantart and you'll see how precisely detailed she draws hands, fingers, and clothing. Everything, really.

If you had bothered to do any homework, you’d see that her work reflects thousands of hours of dedicated practice and the expertise of a seasoned digital artist.

Calling her work AI generated is BEYOND insulting. it’s lazy, dismissive, and downright disrespectful to a person who has spent years honing her craft.

She doesn’t ask for clout, she doesn’t do commissions, she doesn't have a patreon or Kofi. She only made a Twitter years ago because I asked her to share her talent with the world or she wouldn't even bother.

This tendency to label any polished work as “AI” just shows ignorance, plain and simple. Real artists deserve better than to have their skills lumped in with AI machine-generated content by people who can’t tell the difference.

Each of her digital paintings takes anywhere from 30-80+ hours. For Altered State specifically, she's been working on all these art pieces for months while I've been on a posting hiatus. Her incredible work keeps me inspired; I would have literally quit ages ago. We go back and forth on details from the writing in the fic and I see these changes she makes in real time.

She paints in her limited free time for these niche fandoms because she loves the stories and wants to support the writers in it. In a world where fandom is becoming increasingly commodified, she is a rare gem.

I didn't even want to bother Nurchie with this silly comment of yours, but she's such a good sport she just laughed at the idea that anyone could accuse her art of being AI generated. She uses a combo of adobe CC suite and clip studio to draw.

nurchie messaged me this, and I asked for her permission to share it: [I just think they are probably some struggling artist, upset that they feel replaced by soulless AI and are lashing out any time they think they see it. I'm sympathetic to their feelings, and understand the annoyance. I've been battling the improper usage of it in my workplace. AI is not AI but just a data collection tool, and I completely agree that the human eye could never be replaced by it.]

yeah, she's the most chill, sweetest person ever, too. So maybe think twice before throwing around accusations you clearly can’t back up. You're trying to hurt a real artist.

-sincerely,

A writer who knows a real artist

https://www.deviantart.com/nurchie/gallery

edit: also accusations like this drive away real fanartists. Why should they bother sharing their work if their talent and skill are being dismissed as some algorithm's output? it's toxic. fandom spaces will be flooded with AI-generated content in the future because all the true artists will have left.

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day twenty: makeup sex

>>> this is the epitome of vanilla i’m sorry—i got carried away imagine just sweet passionate love making with geto and well here you go whores

>>> starring: suguru geto x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: breakup, angst, oral (f receiving) mating press, breeding, pet names. >>> wc: 4k >>> event masterlist

this is what hell must be like.

when gojo tells you the news, you laugh. you know he’s joking. despite his ghostly sick appearance and red eyes, you just know he’s playing a joke on you like always. you know suguru better than anyone. even gojo. you’ve been together in a romantic capacity for the better part of a year—though you’ve been together since you walked into class one day and declared yourself his friend. you know how depressed your boyfriend has been recently. you’re the one that’s been trying to piece him back together, patient and understanding and gentle as always. after haibara, you’re the only person he’ll even tolerate sharing his space—but not even you have managed to get him to open up. you know he must be questioning the nature of things as of late. the mission to protect the star plasma vessel changed him. but—to kill a village of innocents? his own parents?

“satoru, that’s not funny.” you shake your head, the more you stare at his sympathetically heartbroken face the more it sinks in that he is not joking. you stumble back into the table behind you, the familiar sting of tears ripping at the corners of your eyes.

“they want him dead.” he says with horror, though he seems to fight with himself before your very eyes. he shakes his head. “he killed them all…he..”

“i don’t care!” you cry out, heart pounding in your ears. “it doesn’t matter what he did—he had a reason! i know he did, satoru—please. he’s…he’s all we have.” you know just what to say to appeal to his heart, and know satoru feels some sort of debt to you—since he wasn’t able to keep suguru from diving off the deep end on his own.

he scrunches his nose. “i can’t kill him. not if i wanted to. tried already.” he grumbled, looking down at his shoes.

“you saw him!?” you say, quickly connecting the dots— you step up to shove his chest. he lets you, he deserves it, but the hurt on his face is clear. “you saw him and you didn’t think i’d want to go? what—“

“he didn’t want you there.” he says under his breath, making your jaw shut immediately. your eyes flash with something deeper than hurt, more like anguish. your eyes find the floor now, searching and scanning the tiles for the answer as to why. why he left you here. you would have gone with him. you would have done whatever it took to stay together. even hearing that your partner slaughtered villagers and his own family couldn’t deter you. you knew he had snapped—but he would never hurt you.

satoru slumps forward. “maybe he just…didn’t want to hurt you any more than this. maybe he knew he couldn’t walk away if you were there.”

you wish his words could make you feel better. in a way they do, they make you hope that he was thinking about you in those moments, at least. though the more you hear about him over the next few months from gojo, you doubt anything but his enlightenment carried any weight in his mind.

you’re as good as lost. you reject missions and skip class in favor of searching for any traces of his cursed energy marks with the special tools you specialized in, all to no avail. he’s gone for good. you shrink into yourself and finish your time at jujutsu tech as a shell of your former being. the shadows consumed the sunshine, you’re only able to push yourself as far as you need to in order to pass, but nothing beyond that. you feel like you only live on to spite him, to find him and confront him over all this—no matter the time that’s passed. you won’t stop until you find him again.

turns out, you didn’t have to do much searching. nearly two years after geto leaves, he shows up again. he’s sitting on your couch, giving you his signature soft smile as you enter your own home. you have to blink this mirage out of your vision—so you shake your head a little and rub at your eyes viciously. he hums your name, and your eyes fill with tears. it sounds just like always, like his own kind of love confession with how gently he lets it roll off his tongue. so much for that anger-fueled confrontation you’ve been dreaming of.

he says it again, standing from the couch. he watches your body tremble without knowing if he should stay put or step forward to hold you. he’s not stupid, he knows he lost the right to touch you a long time ago. but…it’s instinct to him. he comes closer and you don’t stop him. you just stare up at him through teary eyes, stabbing him with your pain and sadness and the feeling of betrayal. his hands hesitate to pull you into him.

“can i?” he asks, his brow ticking up in question. “i know i messed up, angel. i want to make it better.” he watches your face carefully, noticing how your brows push your worry lines forward. you’re thinking about it. and the fact you have to think at all hurts him a little, though the only person he can blame is himself. he doesn’t regret leaving. he doesn’t feel guilt over the deaths left in his wake—he hasn’t killed anyone who didn’t deserve it—nor did he feel any sadness over parting with his previous life. other than you, the only source of any negative emotion.

he left satoru and shoko. he left his teacher, his other friends at jujutsu tech. he convinced himself this was the only way, a clean break. he didn’t want it to be harder than it had to be on anyone—his fellow sorcerers. he knew you all would only try to convince him of a different path, that his relationships with his closest friends would be ruined if he had to use force to get away. in a cowardly way, he knew he couldn’t handle the heartbreak you would inevitably look at him with, akin to the look you’re giving him now, and the weakness you brought out on him was something he could no longer afford. so he made sure he never ran into you, hoping that as time went by, you would affect him less and less.

clearly, that did not go according to plan. he missed you deeply, your silken voice and warm touch was the only thing that brought him comfort during his darkest hours, you never shied away from him even when he was silent—when he was angry, irritable, and straight up rude to you, you still crawled into his bed and tugged his face into your chest. you disregarded his attitude every time, pulling the tie out of his hair and hushing him with the scrape of your fingernails against his scalp and the weight of your leg tossed over his hip. you didn’t let him push you away, that’s why you left him no choice but to abandon you. your love was too addicting in the end, though. he can’t make himself stay away—even with his renewed sense of self.

he kept coming back to the idea that you…you were different from satoru and shoko and nanami. again, you never shied away. no matter how difficult he made it on you, you remained by his side. was it too far fetched to imagine you may yet still?

you nod. he’s gentle, careful of being too foreboding and rough too quickly. he’s dressed differently, a black haori and long nagagi, covered with his patterned gojogesa. you think there must be some symbolism in it, maybe a jab to his old friend—maybe an allusion to the heian period he hoped to return to. his hair has grown a few inches, and he doesn’t keep it all pulled back anymore. you think he looks…good. he looks like him, like a regal leader—like he was always meant to be. he wraps his arms around your frame slowly, like he was afraid you would change your mind.

but then you slide your arms around him too, tucking your face to his chest with a stuttered sigh. deep relaxation. he blinks a bit in surprise, tightening his hold around your shoulders as one hand keeps your head trapped against him. his heartbeat is so steady—just like you remembered it. you close your eyes and breathe in his cinnamon bourbon scent, and tears slip down your cheeks as it comes over you in waves that this is real. he’s real, standing in your apartment with his arms wrapped tight around you like you were the one who disappeared suddenly.

“you’ve been gone for so long.” you choke out, your chest heaving a bit with your words—all the hours spent missing him cutting through your happiness to see him. he feels your body tremble, and he realizes that you’ve started to cry. he leans away from you, moving his hands to your face. “you left me here. you didn’t even say goodbye, suguru!”

he frowns, petting your hair down with one hand while the other remained cradling your cheek. you lean into the touch, his hands a bit more callused than you remember them being. they’re still so gentle, these same hands that killed his own parents. these hands that are covered in blood when they aren’t being gentle. but you don’t shudder, the chill of fear never creeps over your body. you know his hands will only touch you softly, with all his love. unless you asked for any different, of course.

“i know. i messed up, my love. i shouldn’t have left you behind.” he sighs, shaking his head at the tear tracks on your cheeks. “don’t cry. i’m here now. i’ll never leave you again. i promise.” he assured, his voice slightly deeper and huskier than it had been in school. he takes it one step further, “i came back to make you mine again. come back home with me. be my wife.”

you widen your eyes at this one, looking up at him with raised brows. “suguru—“

“hear me out, hm?” he smiles warmly, and it relaxes you a bit. you nod to him again, closing your hand around his wrist. “you never let me down…even when i probably deserved it. i don’t resent our friends. i love them! i wish to save them, to save you, my love above them all. please, i won’t ask you to be involved in my work. i just want you back. where i can keep you safe and really make this up to you. i’ll make you happy.”

“i never thought you were wrong—i knew there was more to the story…i..you know i will go with you.”

“pack your bags and i’ll tell you everything, then. you can decide how involved you want to be, i just don’t want you to feel obligated.” he insists, guiding you towards your room.

he stays true to his promise. you pack all the clothes you want to keep on hand and your valuables, and suguru tells you everything. from the mission with riko and toji, to his conversation with yuki, to the village mission and the little girls he found himself taking care of. he explains his thoughts—why this is the only way things will work. he doesn’t want it to be violent—he just loves you so much. he loves gojo, he loves shoko and nanami and yaga and even those that despise him. he wants you to live in a better world, where his twins and any kids you may have together can play freely outside without any worries of techniques and cursed spirits. where children of his that inherit his own ability will never have to endure this same fate. where gojo can relax and shoko never has to see another dead friend—not until old age, anyway. it’s peaceful. and it makes sense…you can’t be angry.

not when you want to hurry home and meet these girls of his, now about seven years old. they’ll be excited to have a mother figure, despite how young you both still are.

“i’ll do whatever will help you then, darling.” you affirm, setting your belongings by your door. “if you want me to lend you my power, i can do that. if you’d rather me stay out of the meetings and tend to the girls, i can do that too. we’ll see how it goes, hm? i’ll do anything it takes.”

your willingness takes him by surprise. he wanted to take you back home and show his devotion to you there, but your words breathe new fire into him. he knows the girls will be all over you the moment you walk in and he won’t be able to have you to himself properly anyway, but he has to worship his goddess. your room is spacious enough…and this would be the last time you’d be in it.

you know that look when you see it, even if it’s been a while. you giggle softly at him, dark eyes a few shades darker with excitement. perhaps he found your forgiveness sexy—maybe your own devotion. either way, the familiar stare lights a fire in your stomach that hadn’t burned in a long time.

“suguru…” you hum, keeping your own lusty gaze trained on him as you perch at the edge of your bed.

“anything?” he repeats your earlier words, stepping toward you. “like marrying me? i want to start my own clan.” he smirks the slightest bit, “and i want you as my wife. i want the girls to have my name, but i want you to give me more children of the same.”

you bite your lip. a family had always been in the cards for you and geto. you were probably far too young to talk about such things, but he was never shy about what he wanted his future with you to look like. you’re glad to see that hasn’t changed. gojo was right, your boyfriend just couldn’t bear watching your face as he left—or risking the heartbreak that would follow if you didn’t come with him.

“you’re built for it, love. divinely feminine and made to be worshiped. i do need to beg for forgiveness after all…” he hums, sinking to his knees in front of you. you part your knees for him from muscle memory, and he’s tugging your work slacks down your hips and pulling at the buttons on your top. he sighs with relief at the sight of you. partially because you were gorgeous, the other part because this was a view he didn’t know if he would get the pleasure of experiencing again. he holds your ankles, pressing tender kisses to each of them before ultimately picking your right leg to trail his lips along, his kisses growing rougher and more possessive the closer he gets to your folds.

you mewl and squirm under his affection, trying to muffle your own sounds with the back of your hand. he can’t help but chuckle just a bit at your squeamishness. it had been a long time—and at least the way you wiggle around his head tells him that you haven’t been with anyone since he left—thank god, he wasn’t really in the mood to kill anyone tonight. he was only in the mood to be here; contently slathering his spit along your pussy lips, humming at the tang of you that meets his tongue. he hooks his arms around your legs to drag your cunt closer, eager mouth suckling at the pearl between your legs with a satisfied grunt. your head falls back at the feeling of his practiced muscle flicking your hood back.

“god, yes sugu, feels amazing…missed you so bad.“ you sigh out, his warm mouth knows all of your secret spots, his tongue licking over each one like you had never been apart. he’s slow and meticulous with every stroke, letting you feel his rushed breath fan over your burning need. you’re almost to the point of begging for him already—when you had plans to give him a real piece of your mind the next time you crossed paths. here you are, letting him devour you at his own pace, agreeing to be his housewife or baby mama or the vice president of his cult—or some mix of all three.

he guides your hips to hump his face, the longer strands of black tickling the inside of your thighs with every languid ministration. you thread your fingers through the locks, relishing the hold it gives you to grind down on his lips, a heat only geto can bring you starts to ball up in your core. he kneads your thighs, making out with your pussy as a reminder that you’re back—he got you back. you are his again, but he needs your cum on his tongue to really convince him of that.

he dives deeper, sliding his mouth to your entrance and letting his thumb take over sloppy slow circles over your clit. you tug on his silky tresses at the roots, making him groan and speed up just a bit. it’s just like when you were teens—he can’t get close enough and you can’t stay quiet, though now that you are grown you don’t really have to.

“sugu—wanna cum for you, please…” you whine, feeling like you were rolling downhill, the feeling in your stomach so bubbly and warm you know you can’t hold out much longer. he nods his permission, now was not the time to deny you anything—though he wants your release so bad that he couldn’t tell you no if he wanted to.

he doesn’t have to tell you twice, his fingers move in a perfect rhythm with his mouth to drive you over the edge. you squeeze his face between your thighs, such a perfect feeling that he’s missed for far too long. your nectar made him even crazier—he calculated everything but how your love would control him. how this taste and the sight of you with your back arched and mouth open as you push your pussy against him repeatedly to ride out your high would have him doing anything in the world to ensure he got to see it again.

“we’ll marry when we get back to the estate.” he nods, pushing you back with a light shove—just enough to communicate his own need. your eyes flicker down to the layers he was removing to get to you—his bulge tucked tight against his hakama, trying to spring free. he growls a bit, frustrated with how good you looked laying against the pillows, how your body had thickened up in all the right places. you really were built to be a mother. he finally frees himself, finally bare to you for the first time in almost two years. he pushes a large hand through his hair, eyeing you with just a touch of that newfound craze he’s garnered. he pushes your legs back to your chest, clearly intent on using the mating press for its namesake. “it’s only right since i’m going to put a baby in you right now.”

he lays his length over your stomach, reminding you of how he’ll have to stretch you to accommodate him. he’s so long he nearly touches your belly button—and just as wide around. his balls always hang low—heavy and full as he stares at you with hazy lidded eyes, admiring the way you seem undaunted by the tall task of fitting him in your snug walls or letting him knock you up with the firstborn of the new generation, one that would grow up in a new world you would help him build. “i love you. i can’t get those years back, but i can give you the rest of my life.”

your eyes soften a bit, body melting into the mattress. he slides his cockhead along your soaked folds, arms tensing and relaxing at the feeling of your hole sucking him in—and who is he to deny you after all this time? “i love you too—“

you cut yourself off to suck in a breath as he rips the bandaid off—bottoming out and hushing you as you squeeze and writhe around him. “you can still take all of me—that’s my girl.” he sighs shakily, your clamping pussy was quickly becoming a problem. he hadn’t allowed himself to be horny in your absence; all he could do was miss you and wish he had you back in his arms. but you’ve given him more than that, you’ve given him permission to breed your tight pussy all for himself, you’ve promised to help him in his cause and watch after the girls he was willing to lose you for, albeit temporarily. you’ve given him your heart back. you’ve given him everything.

your hands fly to grip the beefy muscle of his upper arms, fighting to ground yourself through the feeling of him cleaving through you. your eyes are already rolling back in your head by the time he actually starts to move, feeling this full was satisfaction in and of itself. you think some part of you should feel pathetic and guilty for letting him do this—for taking him back, no, pledging yourself—to him once more. you know this will mean isolation, but you don’t care. you’d do anything to have him, and you don’t feel any regret in the realization. your mouth drops open a little, the way he leans over you to kiss your parted lips makes you grin. his broad frame keeps yours in place and deepens his path to burrow toward your womb. he swallows up your sounds of pleasure, grunting into each sloppy kiss. your hips absorb his thrusts, legs pinned by his huge hands ensuring you were bent to his liking. he’s slow just like before, stroking deeply and withdrawing almost all the way, brutal in his own fashion.

“please—faster, oh— nghggg~” you whine out as he gives you what you asked for, bracing one hand on the headboard above you so he could set a proper tempo, fucking into you with intent to claim. you’re mesmerizing. he’ll never let you out of his sight, even, if it means you’ll be safe beside him—or under him. he watches your face contort with pleasure, hot wet walls gripping him so expertly he can’t help but shove himself deeper and deeper as fast as possible—needing to bury his load as far as it will go.

“so good angel, you’re gonna make me bust already.” he says with a gruff chuckle. you nod, egging him on. he finds that adorable, rewarding you by pinching your swollen and needy clit. your back arches a bit and you squeeze him uncontrollably. he chuckles at your reactions, pleased to have so much control. “looks like you will too. cum with me.” he hums his order gently, rubbing you in circles while his hips never slow their rocking motions, driving you to the point of whimpering helplessly. you nod, feeling the dam break and your cum rush out all at once. he groans at the growing wetness, he can’t hold back anymore. he fucks you through your orgasm, twitching at the sensitivity his dick receives from the sloppy mess that’s been made of you.

“look at my girl…stuffed full like she always should be.” he grins, leaning over to kiss your forehead. “i love you, angel. i’m so glad you let me have another chance.” he says with a smirk that tells you that you didn’t have much choice in the matter—but your cooperation meant a lot to him.

you smile softly at his praises, not at all worried about your fate with a man they considered dangerous. because to you, he was still your suguru—and he would never hurt you, his special siring sorceress.

[numinously-yours]

Pick a card: From your Soulmate

Happy Friday! Today's reading is a soulmate reading. Your reading includes: Characteristics of your soulmate & a note from them <3

Pile 1: Ace of Pentacles

I’ve been kicked down in life, but each time I get back up the light at the end of the tunnel gets brighter. I have been trying hard to trust in the universe because I know it’s bringing me everything I could want – and that’s you. You are such a compassionate, beautiful, smart, and wonderful person pile 1. You know how they say to never stop dating the person you’re with? That is my plan with you – to woo you forever. You deserve to be wined and dined. I hope to show you each day how much you mean to me. I’ll bring you flowers. I’ll give you shoulder rubs. I’ll tell you silly jokes just to make you laugh. I will spend our time together making sure you never feel unloved. You are my manifestation and I can’t wait to be with you.

Pile 2: The Lovers

Your love is a breath of fresh air. Being with you brings me mental clarity. It makes me understand that the way I’ve been treated in relationships up until now were not an accurate representation of a healthy relationship. Gosh, it is so refreshing! You may find when we begin our relationship that I am hesitant to make big decisions. Because you are showing me something I’ve never known before, it is going to take a little time for me to be convinced that you’re not going away. But let me tell you, once I am shown time and time again that you show up, it is game over (in the best way). The way that we align will take away all the doubts I’ve ever had about love. And I won’t be able to thank you enough.

Pile 3: The Hanged Man

A lot of my life has been about competition; mainly, competition with myself. I have a need to prove myself. I want to be the best at what I do. And I know that that mindset isn’t always the most productive. With you in my life, soulmate, I am reminded to pause. I am reminded that there are more perspectives out there from my own and that I’m allowed to let go of what I think SHOULD be to open room for what IS. You’re really going to allow me to look at my shadow self and understand why I have this need to be better than the previous version of me. You’re going to help me see the restraints that I’m binding myself with. My competitive nature will always be a part of me but I’m looking forward to the time in my life where I can experience joy just being who I am, where I don’t feel like I need to be constantly winning. My life with you is the ultimate prize.

Pile 4: Two of Cups

I’ve held myself back for much of my life with the fear that I don’t have the tools to succeed. I always think that if I just had that one thing – more money, more confidence, more time – that then I can take the plunge. At times, I also find myself wanting to do everything for everyone. If I put effort into one thing, I feel like I am neglecting the other, and then I stop doing either. I want to be the best RIGHT NOW, no matter how unrealistic. And then you came into the picture. My inspiration, my muse, my reminder that each day is a clean slate. Not only do I know we will grow together, but I know that I will grow personally because of you. You never fail to encourage me to follow my dreams. You have a way of reminding me that, even if I “fail”, I can always get something out of a situation which means I didn’t fail at all. I really hope I can do the same thing for you because you deserve the same, if not more, of the energy you give to me.

[worldofkuro]

I'm curious..sometimes I just crave platonic so...

What if reader was his little sibling? What would their childhood and teenagehood look like?

I’m sorry, I’ve been working a lot and I didn’t have time for myself. Next chapter should be uploaded this weekend.  Now, a Platonic question, I’m delighted ! I hope you'll enjoy it :)

Alastor would act differently depending on how you were.

If you were emotional, he would use you as his experiment. Why were you crying now? Why were you smiling? You were his little experiment and sibling, how lucky he was!

If you were a normal person, he wouldn’t show interest in you and just let you live your life.

During his childhood, if he created a bond with you, he would try to make you immune to others feelings, just like he was. If you were sad because an animal died, or because you fought with some “friends” of yours, he would try to understand why you were upset, or tried to understand your feelings.

For you security, and yours, he would try to explain to you how to perceive the world, never showing weakness. 

“ Dear sister/brother, you must have walls inside your head, no one can hurt you, no one, not even father.”

If you began to be like him, he would be delighted as a child, finally he wasn’t completely alone. You both would torture some animals in the forest, thinking it was your dad.

When you grew up and met Alice, Alyzée and John at school, depending if Alastor had succeeded at cutting your feelings for others, you both would see them as useful tools for your future plans.

But if you created a true and deep friendship with them, Alastor would just smile at you, with a hint of mischief. 

“ What ? You like them ?... That’s why you are the little one, so weak to others. Go mingle, it will be useful either way.”

If you were to fall in love with John, Alastor would be so disappointed. Raise your standard won’t you?

But if you fell in love with Alice and managed to have a relationship with her, Alastor would pinch your cheek with a big smile.

“ Well done, brat! A big fish you caught !”

If you ever were insecure about your relationship with Alice, Alastor would try to cheer you up but… In a weird way?

“ Why do you feel bad ? She is rich.” " You think you don't deserve her? .... You are my sibling, she doesn't deserve you." “ Yes, you both are girls… And?” “ You think you are disgusting for liking a girl ? Let me show you how disgusting men are, you’ll feel like you are the cleanest thing in town.”

He would want you to continue this relationship because it was useful for him.

Voodoo would be fun for both of you, and you would compete against one another. 

“ You can see people’s souls? Pfff, I can trap them.”

He would let you live your beautiful, loving life while he would go deeper into darkness.

Don’t trust him, he would betray you if he had something to win.

Now, now, if you were just like him, not feeling emotion for others, being selfish and wishing for power, then you were his best accomplice.

You both would be an unstoppable duo. Alastor would say that you both were twins, you were just a little late.

Killing your father would be a bonding experience for the both of you as you stayed awake at night for years, picturing how his death would feel like.

You would go sit into a coffee shop, talking about your last murder in a way nobody would understand.

You would want to have a job where you would be in the spotlight, just like your older brother.

But Alastor would never trust you fully, you were just like him, which meant you were dangerous, clever, ambitious. You were a danger to him, and even if he adored you because of how similar you were to him. He would try to kill you first.

And you would think just like him.

In the end, unless one of you moves to another country, you would be an amazing duo but also swore enemies.

“ Dear little one, it wasn’t nice to try to frame me for the neighbor’s death, but it was very clever. I can’t wait to see what you have in store! But now… This is my turn to play.”

When you both meet in Hell, you would smile widely at each other. Another game was on.

Fighting like siblings, even in Hell.

[physalian]

Humanizing Your Characters (And Why You Should)

To humanize a character is not to contort an irredeemable villain into the warped funhouse mirror reflection of a hero in the last 30 seconds to gain “narrative subversion” points. To humanize is not to give said villain a tragic backstory that validates every bad choice they make in attempt to provide nuance where it does not deserve to be.

To humanize a character, villain or otherwise, is to make them flawed. Scuff them up, give them narrative birthmarks and scars and imperfections. Whether it’s your hero, their love interest, the comic relief, the mentor, the villain, the rival, these little narrative details serve to make all your literary babies better.

Why should you humanize your characters?

To do this means to write in details beyond those that service the plot, or the themes, or the motifs, morals, foreshadowing, or story. These might be (and usually are) entirely unimportant in the grand scheme of things. So, if I wrote lengthy diatribes on pacing and why every detail must matter, and character descriptions and thematic importance, why am I now suggesting go free-for-all on the fluff?

Just like real people have quirks and tics and beliefs and pet peeves that serve our no greater purpose, so should fictional people. Your average reader doesn’t have the foggiest idea what literary devices are beyond metaphor, simile foreshadowing, and anecdote, but they can tell when the author is using motif and theme and all the syntactical marvels because it reads that much richer, even if they can’t pinpoint why.

And, for shipping fodder, these tiny little details are what help your audience fall in love with the character. It doesn’t even have to be in a book – Taylor Swift (whether you like her or not) never fills her music with sexual innuendo or going clubbing. She tells stories filled with human details like dancing in the refrigerator light. People can simultaneously relate to these very specific and vivid experiences, and say “not that exactly, but man this reminds me of…” and that’s (part of) the reason her music is so popular.

What kinds of narratives need these details?

All of them. Visual media, audio, written, stage play. Now, to what degree and excess you apply these details depends on your tone, intended audience, and writing style. If your style of writing is introspection heavy, noir character drama, you might go pretty heavy on the character design.

But even if you’re writing a kids book with a scant few paragraphs of setting descriptors and internal narration, or you’re drawing a comic book – if you have characters you want people to care about, do this.

Animators, particularly, are very adept at humanizing non-human characters, because, unlike live acting, every single stroke of the pen is there with intent. They use their own reflections for facial references, record their own movements to draw a dance, and insert little bits of themselves into signature character poses so you know that *that* animator did this one.

How to humanize your characters.

I’m going to break this down into a couple sections: Costume/wardrobe, personality, beliefs/behavior/superstitions, haptics/proxemics/kinesics, and voice. They will all overlap and the sheer variety and possibilities are way too broad for me to capture every facet.

Costumes and Wardrobe

In the film Fellowship of the Ring, there’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment where, after Boromir is slain by the Uruk-Hai, Aragorn takes Boromir’s Gondorian vambraces to wear in his honor, and in honor of their shared country. He wears them the rest of the trilogy. The editing pays no extra attention to them beyond a split second of Aragorn tightening the straps, it never lingers on them, never reminds you that they’re there, but they kept it in nonetheless. His actor also included a hunting bow that didn't exist in the book because he's a roamer, a ranger, and needs to be able to feed himself, along with a couple other survival tools.

Aragorn wears plenty of other symbolic bits of costume – the light of the Evenstar we see constantly from Arwen, the Lothlorien green cloaks shared by the entire Fellowship, his re-forged sword and eventual full Gondorian regalia, but all those are Epic Movie Moments that serve a thematic purpose.

Taking the vambraces is just a small, otherwise insignificant character moment, a choice made for no other reason than that’s what this character would do. That’s what makes him human, not an archetype.

When you’re writing these details and can’t rely on sneaking them into films, you have to work a little harder to remind your audience that they exist, but not too often. A detail shifts from “human” to “plot point” when it starts to serve a purpose to the themes and story.

Inconsequentiality might be how a character ties, or doesn’t tie their shoelaces, because they just can’t be bothered so they remain permanent knots and tripping hazards. It might be a throw-away line about how they refuse to wear shorts and strictly stick to long pants because they don’t like showing off their legs. It might be perpetually greasy hair from constantly running their fingers through it with stress, or self-soothing. A necklace they fidget with, or a ring, a belt they never bother to replace even though they should, a pair of lucky socks.

Resist the urge to make it more meaningful than “this is just how they are”. If I’m using the untied shoelaces example – in Spiderverse, this became a part of the story’s themes, motifs, and foreshadowing, and doesn’t count. Which isn’t bad! It’s just not what I’m talking about.

Personality

In How to Train Your Dragon, Toothless does not speak. All his personality comes from how he moves, the noises he makes, and the expressions on his face. There’s moments, like in the finale, when his prosthetic has burned off and Hiccup tells him to hold on for a little bit longer, and you can clearly see on his face that he’s deeply uncertain about his ability to do so. It’s almost off the screen, another blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment. Or the beat of hesitation before he lets Hiccup touch him in the Forbidden Friendship scene. Or the irritated noise he makes when he’s impatiently waiting for Hiccup to stop chatting with his dad because they have a giant dragon to murder. Or when he slaps Hiccup with his ear fin for flying them into a rock spire.

None of those details *needed* to exist to endear you to his character or to serve the scenes they’re in. The scenes would carry on just fine without them. He’s a fictional dragon, yes, but these details make him real.

Other personality tics you could include might be a character who gets frustrated with tedious things very quickly and starts making little inteligible curses under their breath. Or how they giggle when they’re excited and start bouncing on their toes. Maybe they have a tic where they snap their fingers when they’re concentrating, trying to will an idea into existence. Or they stick their tongue out while they work and get embarrassed when another character calls them on it. They roll around in their sleep, steal blankets, drool, leave dishes in the sink or are neurotic with how things must be organized. They have one CD in their car, and actually use that CD player instead of the phone jack or Bluetooth. They sing in the shower, while they cook, or while they do homework, no matter how grating their voice.

They like the smell of new shoes or Sharpies. They hate the texture of suede or velvet or sticky residues. They never pick their socks up. They hate the overhead light in their room and use 50 lamps instead. They hate turning into oncoming traffic or don’t trust their backup camera. They collect Funko Pops and insist there’s always room for more.

And about a million others.

Beliefs, Behaviors, and Superstitions

*If you happen to be writing a story where superstitions have merit, maybe skip this one.* Usually, inevitably, these evolve into character centerpieces and I can’t actually think of one off the top of my head that doesn’t become this beyond the ones we all know. A few comedic examples do come to mind:

The Magic Conch in “Club Spongebob” and the sea-bear-proof dirt circle in “The Camping Episode”

Dean Winchester’s fear and panic-driven actions in “Yellow Fever” and “Sam, Interrupted”

The references to the trolls that steal left-foot socks in How to Train Your Dragon

I’m not a fan of wasting time writing a religious character doing their religious thing when Plot Is Happening, but smaller things are what I’m talking about. Like them wearing a cross/rosary and touching it when they’re nervous. Having a specific off-beat prayer, saying, or expression because they don’t believe in cursing.

The classic ones like black cats, ladders, broken mirrors, salt, sidewalk cracks can all be funny. Athletes have plenty, too, and some of them, particularly in baseball culture, are a bit ridiculous. Not washing socks or uniforms, having a team idol they donate Double Bubble to and also rub their toes. A specific workout routine, diet, team morale dance.

Other things, too. A character who’s afraid to go back downstairs once the lights are off, or fear the basement or the backyard shed. Or they’re really put-off by this old family photo for no reason other than how glassy their eyes look and it’s creepy. They like crystals, dreamcatchers, star signs, tarot, or they absolutely do not under any circumstances.

They believe in all the tried and true ways of predicting the weather like a grizzled old sailor. They believe in ghosts, vampires, werewolves, witches, skinwalkers, doppelgangers, fairies. They talk to the cat statue in their kitchen and named it Fudge Pop. They whisper to the spirit that possessed the fridge so it stops making all that racket, and half the time, it works every time. They wear yellow for good luck or carry a rabbit’s foot. They’re not religious at all but still throw prayers out to whoever’s listening because, you know, just in case. They sit by their window sill and talk to the moon and the stars and pretend like they’re in a music video when they’re driving through the city in the rain.

Haptics, Proxemics, and Kinesics

These are, for all you non-communication and psych majors out there, touch and physical contact, how they move, and how they move around other people.

Behold, your shipping fodder.

Two shining examples of proxemics in action are the famous “close talker” episode of Seinfeld (of which every communication major has been subjected to) and Castiel’s not understanding of personal space (and human chronemic habits) in Supernatural.

These are how a character walks, if they’re flat-footed, clumsy, or tip-toers. If they make a racket or constantly spook the other characters. If they fidget or can’t sit still in a seat for five seconds, if they like to sit backwards or upside down. How they touch themselves, if they do a lot of self-soothing maneuvers (hugging themselves, rubbing their arms, touching their face, drawing their knees up, holding their neck, etc) or if they don’t do any self-soothing at all.

This is how they shake hands, if they dance while they cook or work. It’s how much space they let themselves take up, if they man-spread or keep their limbs in closer. How close they stand to others or how far. If they let themselves be touched at all, or if they always have their skin covered. If they always have their back to a wall,  or are always making sure they know where the nearest exit is. If they make grand gestures when they talk and give directions. If they flinch from pats on the back or raised hands. If they lean away from loud voices or project their own. If they use their height to their advantage when arguing, puff their chest, square their shoulders, put their hands on their hips, or point fingers in accusation.

If they touch other characters as they pass by. If they’re huggers or victims of falling asleep on or near their comrades. If they must sleep facing the door, or with something solid behind them. If they can sleep in the middle of a party wholly uncaring. If they sleepwalk, sleeptalk, migrate across the bed to cuddle whoever’s nearest with no idea they’re doing it.

If they like to be held or like to hold others. If they hate being picked up and slung around or are touch-starved for it. If they like their space and stick to it or are more than happy to share.

Do they walk with grace, head held high and back straight? Or are they hunched over, head hung, watching their feet? Are they meanderers or speed-walkers? Do they cross their arms in front or lace their hands behind them? Do they bow to authority or meet that gaze head on?

I have heard that Prince Zuko, in Last Airbender, is usually drawn sleeping with his bad ear down when he doesn’t feel safe, like on his warship or anywhere in the Fire Nation, or on the road. He’s drawn on his other side once he joins the Gaang. In Dead Man’s Chest, just before Davy Jones drives the Flying Dutchman under the waves, two tentacles curl up and around the brim of his hat to keep it from blowing off in the water.

When they fight, do they attack first, or defend first? Do they touch other characters’ hair? Share makeup, share clothes? Touch their faces with boops or bonks or nuzzles and eskimo kisses? Do they crack their knuckles and necks and knees?

Do they stare in baffled curiosity at all the other characters wholly comfortable in each other's spaces because they can’t, won’t, or don’t see the point in all this nonsense? Do they say they’re happy on the outside, but are betrayed by their body language?

Voice

Whether or not to write an accent is entirely up to you. Books like Their Eyes Were Watching God writes dialogue in a vernacular specific to its characters. Westerners and southerners tend to be written with the southern drawl or dialect, ripe with stereotypical contractions. Be advised, however, that in attempt to write an accent to give your character depth, you could be instead turning off your audience who doesn’t have energy to decipher what they’re saying, or you went and wrote a racist stereotype.

Voice isn’t just accent and dialect, nor is it how it sounds, which falls more solidly under useful character descriptions. Voice for the sake of humanizing your characters concerns how they talk, how they convey their thoughts, and how they become distinct from other characters in dialogue and narration.

If you’re writing a narrative that hops heads and don’t want to include a big banner to indicate who’s talking at any given time, this is where voice matters. It is, I think, the least appreciated of all the possible traits to pay attention to.

First person narrators have the most flexibility here because the audience is zero degrees removed from their first-hand experiences. Their personality comes through sharply in how they describe things and what they pay attention to.

But it’s also in what similes and metaphors they use. I read a book that had an average (allegedly straight) male narrator going off and describing colors with types of flowers, some I had to look up because I just don’t know those off the top of my head. My immediate thought was either this character is a poorly written gay, or he’s a florist. Neither (allegedly), the writer was just being too specific.

Do they have crutch words they use? like, um, actually, so…, uh

Or repeat exclamations specific to them? yikes, yowzers, jeepers, jinkies, zoinks, balls, beans, d’oh!

Or idioms they’re fond of? Like a bat out of hell. Snowball’s chance.

Do they stutter when they’re nervous? Do they lose their train of thought and bounce around, losing other characters in the process? Do they have a non-Christian god they pray to and say something other than “thank God”? Are they from another country, culture, time period, realm, or planet with their own gods, beliefs, and idioms?

When they describe settings, how flowery is the language? Would this grizzled war hero use flowery language? How would he or she describe the color pink, versus a PTA mom? Do they use only a generic “blue, green, red” or do they really pay attention with “aquamarine, teal, emerald, viridian, vermillion, rose, ruby”?

How do this character’s hobbies affect how well they can describe dance moves, painting styles, car models, music genres?

This mostly matters when you’re head-hopping and the voice of the narrator serves to be more distinct, otherwise, what’s the point of head-hopping? Just use third-person omniscient.

If you really want to go wild, give a specific narrator unique syntax. Maybe one character is the ghost of Oscar Wild with never-ending run-on sentences. Just be sure to not go too overboard and compromise the integrity of your story.

In the book A Lesson Before Dying, a somewhat illiterate, underprivileged and undereducated minor has been given a mentor, a teacher, before they face the death penalty. At the end of the book, you read all of the letters they wrote to their teacher. There’s misspellings everywhere, almost no punctuation, and long, rambling sentences.

It’s heartbreaking. The subject matter is heavy and horrible, yes, but it’s the choice to write with such poor English that has a much bigger impact than perfect MLA format.

How to implement these details

Most of these, in the written medium, need only show up once or twice before your audience notices and wonders why they’re there. Most fall squarely under character design, which falls under exposition, and should follow all the exposition guidelines.

These details exist to be random and fluffy, but they can’t exist randomly within the narrative. If you want to have your character be superstitious, pick a relevant time to include that superstition.

Others, like ongoing speech habits or movements, still don’t overuse, especially if they’re unique. A character might like to sit backwards in a chair, but if you mention that they’re doing it every single time they sit down, your audience will wonder what’s so important and if the character is unwell.

And, of course, you can let these traits become thematically important, like a superstition being central to their personality or backstory or motivation. These all serve the same purpose of making your character feel like a real person instead of just a “character”.

Just think about tossing in a few random details every now and then and see what happens. One tiny sentence can take a background character and make them candidates for the eventual fandom’s fan favorite. Details like these turn your work from “This a story, and these are the characters who tell it” into “these are my characters, and this is their story.”

[angrygirlromero]

PERFECTION — LUKE CASTELLAN

A/N: hi! I’d just like to say that this is based on the show, because I haven’t read the books as yet, and I’m so very in love with Luke and don’t worry I do know what happens to him, so hope you like it!

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Apollo fem reader

Warnings: established relationship, mentions of asma attacks, bad parenting, soft luke, possible grammar mistakes.

REQUEST ARE OPEN! For: pjo, got, Saltburn, hotd, hunger games, fnaf, etc.

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Adeline Basset had always been a daddy’s girl, doing everything in her power to prove herself worthy of her father’s affection no matter what it was or what it took, and even without all her efforts, Apollo would’ve still call her his favorite.

The Apollo girl had been in the infirmary all morning long attending to a young Ares boy with asma problems, “I know it’s the third time this week” explain the boy in embarrassment to his elder sister, Clarisse shook her head slightly in disapproval lifting her hand to play with younger boy’s hair, “it’s alright nick, if you ever feel the least bit breathless then just tell me” said Clarisse with a sympathetic smile.

“Now that you’re better remember you have training in an hour so go ahead I’ll catch up with you” ordered the Ares girl to which her half sibling nodded before getting off the infirmary bed, “thanks so much Adi” said the little boy with a grin, “anytime” to which Adeline replied with a friendly smile as she put away the tools she had used to get the boy’s breathing under control.

Leaving the two girls alone Clarisse spoke up, “I’m sorry about the timing” “it’s alright as long as he’s okay” smiled back the Apollo girl, “thanks by the way, I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t here early” said Clarisse with a stressed look overtaking her face.

“I’ve been reading up about his condition, and I spoke to my dad, and he said that there should be some herds in the enchanted forest that could help him” explained Adeline, “but it’s gonna be hard to get my hands on them” she went on.

“I could try and get them for you” offered Clarisse, “it’s not that simple, but thanks for the offer I’ll see what I can do, just make sure he has his inhaler with him at all times” said Adeline, to which Clarisse nodded, “I will thanks again” “it’s my pleasure” Clarisse gave Adeline one last thankful look before leaving to start training her siblings.

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Ever since the night of the arrival of Percy Jackson Adeline had not seen much of her boyfriend, not because she did not want to, but rather because she had been more busy than usual at the infirmary.

From the very moment she had met the boy she knew he would do great things, despite his sassy personality Adeline and become quite close with the young boy, despite the short time of their meeting.

Adeline could remember that night clearly, she had stayed late in the infirmary with Luke that night, “come on pretty girl, you’re over working yourself, I’m sure there are other solutions” said Luke as he kissed his girlfriend’s cheek, his large figure wrapping around her from behind as he watched her scramble through old enchanted books.

“No I’m not, his condition is worse because of his father’s genes he’s harder to heal” said Adeline not moving her eyes from the book, “it’s late you haven’t slept in days, you need your rest, besides the Ares kids are always mean to your siblings they don’t deserve your hard work” spoke luke.

“I’m not doing this for them I’m doing this for him, for nick he’s so young and innocent, he can’t walk for two minutes without coughing” “are you sure you’re doing this for him, or is this you trying to prove yourself to your father?” Asked Luke as he turned Adeline around to face him.

Adeline kept her head down, Luke frowned at her reaction lifting his fingers to her chin to look up at him, “hey, hey I didn’t mean to make you mad pretty girl” he said, “no you’re right, it’s not only about nick, it’s about proving myself worthy of my father’s affection, he’s been talking to me a lot more recently, he’s been giving me more gifts and we’ve been bonding, and I feel bad for my other sibling that he doesn’t even talk to…” explained Adeline.

Luke paused for a moment leaning down to press a deep kiss on her lips, “you have nothing to prove, Apollo has adored since the moment you entered camp and you and everyone knows it, it wouldn’t matter if you weren’t the best archer or the best singer and song writer, even if you didn’t have your powers or knowledge, you’d still be his favorite. All the Gods are selfish and they know they have other children but they choose to acknowledge the ones they think are worthy” spoke Luke, “it’s not fair” “I know pretty girl it’s not” said Luke leaning down to press his forehead against his girlfriend’s”

“Adi! Adi!” Called out Grover as he entered the infirmary with Mr. D, Chiron and some other campers breaking the two lovers from each other, “what’s the matter?” Asked Adeline, “it’s the new kid, he’s injured he killed a Minotaur!” Exclaimed Grover.

“Set him on the bed” ordered Adeline, which the campers quickly did, as Adeline rushed to check him and begin to heal him.

Luke stood in the corner admiring his girlfriend work, doing what she loved, “aren’t you supposed to be in your cabin?” Asked Mr. D causing Luke to jump, “I-“ “get to your cabin kid” ordered Mr. D causing Luke to rush out of the infirmary stoping at the door to look back at his girlfriend, smiling as he watched her hands glow as she pressed her hands onto the new kid’s arm to heal him.

“Hey Adi” called out Perch smiling at her from the door way of the infirmary, “we’re heading to lunch, you ready?” Asked Percy as he glanced at Luke who stood behind him leaning against the door with a charming smile on his handsome face, “yeah I’m coming” replied Adeline smiling at her boys.