#I’m not a worm scientist

[feralgoblin-art]

The rain brings friends 🪱🌧️

I moved as many off the pavement as I could:)

Watch your step! If you can’t move them, at least don’t smoosh them!

Moving them to a grass or dirt patch is a nice thing to do:)

When worms are on pavement they can dry out or get smooshed ☹️

They come out and move around when it’s wet because it’s easier for them to stay moisturized 🪱

Safe travels, worms! 🌧️

[theywontletmebeprincipal]

important to note I never said rfk’s claims were at all accurate and/or legitimate, just that he’s being weird on twitter. was pretty damn sure we’d all be working under the assumption of “the guy who publicly offered to give himself brainworms is definitely bullshitting” because that seems like the most normal n well balanced point of view to have here but I guess not so let me be perfectly clear — I am not claiming to do accurate Worm Reporting, I’m saying “hey isn’t this guy a bit fucked up regardless of whether or not there really is a worm”

There is absolutely nothing you could make up about American politics. Imagination is dead. It's useless.

[simplyholl]

A Night With The Winter Soldier

Summary: You’re sent to be Hydra’s test subject for a new serum.

Pairing: F. Reader x Winter Soldier Bucky

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Dark Bucky. Non con. Oral. Unprotected sex.

See My Masterlist Here

A/N: I know I don’t usually write for Bucky, but this idea has been stuck in my head for a long time. I’m just tagging my regular tag list, if you’re not into dark fics, please skip! ❤️

Fucked. That’s what you were or at least what you were going to be. You shake your head as you cover your skimpy lingerie with the matching robe your mother gave to you.

Your father is the head scientist for Hydra. He had been working on this experiment for years. He had created a serum that would cause Super Soldiers to want to reproduce. The end result would be a perfect Super Soldier baby. He finally perfected it. Who could be a better test subject than his daughter?

You begged him. You pleaded and cried. It was unfair to expect this of you. But he didn’t care how you felt. He said it was your duty to do as you were told. You didn’t want to make Hydra upset with your family, did you? You knew the horrors that awaited you if you refused. Your best friend, Lilly and her whole family disappeared three years ago when her father refused a command from Hydra. They were brutal and cruel. Sadly, you were used to it.

Hydra came first. Before yourself, before your family, your loyalty had to be unwavering. You knew it wasn’t really your father who had suggested it be you. Your mother told you it was one of the higher ups. He had seen you in your new sundress a few weeks ago and thought you would be perfect to carry the first Super Soldier baby.

It made you sick. How could they do this? You didn’t want to know what would happen if you refused. “At least, he is the strongest Super Soldier. This baby’s genes will be impeccable with the both of you for parents.” Your mother reassured you, as if it would help you feel better.

You weren’t naive. You and the baby would be monitored from the moment you got pregnant. As soon as you gave birth, the child would be ripped from your arms and watched closely. It wouldn’t really be yours.

You take the elevator to the thirteenth floor, heart racing wildly. You were scared. You had seen the Super Soldiers behind glass doors where you were protected from them. Now, you were being offered on a silver platter to the biggest baddest one, like a worm on a hook waiting for a fish to jump after them.

Two guards stand outside the door to the windowless room. Their eyes roam over your barely covered body. They smirk at you as they type in the code to let you in. “Good luck, princess. You’re going to need it.” They evilly laugh as the door opens. Slowly, you walk in, your breath catching in your throat as you hear the steel door bang tightly shut behind you.

The room is dimly lit. A leather chair in one corner, a bed pressed against the wall, there’s a table with a half worked puzzle on it. It was so dreary, your heart aches for the poor guy that called this room home. You walk over to the table, running your hand over the puzzle. That’s when you feel it. Even though you couldn’t see him, you’re not alone. He’s in here with you, hid in the dark corners somewhere. You turn around to find him staring at you.

The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes, you had demanded to know his name before you did this. His dark hair hung in waves by his cheeks, his cold blue eyes focused on your body. He was beautiful. You weren’t used to seeing him without the black mask he usually wore. He was shirtless, his silver, metal arm catching your attention. You studied it. The way it looks like it was forcefully put on, the red star on his shoulder. He was always silent, brooding in the shadows. You had never been this close to him.

You reach for his face, wanting to feel him before all this started. His metal arm stops you, cold hand wrapping around your wrist. You squeak when he twists your arm behind your back, walking you toward the table.

He presses you against it, you feel his erection threatening to burst out of his black pants. One swipe of his free hand knocks the puzzle to the floor. Colorful pieces scatter all around you. He lifts you on top of the table, the cold surface making you gasp when your bare legs land on it.

Bucky holds you with his metal arm, the other one makes quick work of your flimsy robe. He grabs your breast through the thin fabric of your lingerie. You squirm under his touch as he pinches your nipple through the lace.

“You don’t know how bad I need this. Been a long time since I’ve had a pretty girl like you in my bed.” You’re shocked when he speaks to you. You had been warned that he wouldn’t talk to you at all. He takes a step back to look at you, zeroing in on your panties.

He pushes your back to the wall, commanding you to stay there. You obey, you didn’t want to upset him and make this worse for yourself. He holds your top in one hand, jerking the material. The sound of it’s ripping, startling you. He was crazy strong. The thought of being manhandled by him sounded better by the second.

Next was your panties, he stripped you of them quickly, pulling you by your legs to the edge of the table. He got on his knees before you, shoving his face to your core. He licks one fat stripe up your center, moaning as he tastes you. He swirls his tongue across your clit, you buck your hips up to get closer.

Bucky pushes you down with his metal arm, ensuring that you wouldn’t be able to move. You accept your fate, laying back as he laps at you. He fucks you with his tongue, his nose rubbing expertly against your sensitive nub. The band tightly wound in your stomach snaps as he drags his wicked tongue across your clit, sucking you between his lips. He doesn’t hold back his moans as your arousal floods his face.

When he emerges, his face is glistening because of you. He wipes it off with the back of his flesh hand. Bucky jerks you off the table, pointing to the cold, cement ground. “On your knees.” You sink down in front of him as he sheds his pants. You’re surprised he hadn’t already taken them off.

You shift on your knees, trying to get comfortable. He could at least offer you a pillow to kneel on or something. You look around, and spot the only one on his bed. You’re about to ask for it, when he pulls your hair roughly, jerking your head toward his throbbing cock. It was huge. The kind of big that would hurt. You open your mouth, trying to take all of him inside.

You choke and gag, spit dribbling down your chin onto your breasts as you struggle. He looks down at you, hand still tangled in your hair. Your jaw aches already and he’s just getting started. He thrusts his hips forward, pushing your head down simultaneously. Tears fill your eyes as he hits the back of your throat. You can’t help the sob that escapes you as he pulls out, only to forcefully push his way back in.

His thumbs follow the tears on your cheeks, your mascara pooling under your eyes making you look like a raccoon. “You look so pretty when you cry.” He coos, while looking at you adoringly. He thrusts three more times, your nails dig into his thighs, a silent plea to stop. He finally pulls out, collecting you from the floor and gently placing you on his bed.

He places one leg over his shoulder, lining himself up at your entrance. He pushes inside and it’s too much. “It’s- you’re too big.” You explain. Bucky moves your other leg, spreading you wider. “You’re gonna take all of it.” He grunts, wedging himself inside you, bottoming out with one thrust. He ignores your pained scream, leaning down to lick your fresh tears.

“So tight. So perfect. Just for me.” He praises in your ear. Finally, the pain subsides. Bucky feels incredible, his thick cock dragging against the spot that makes your head swim. A gush of arousal soaks him as he swirls his metal thumb in circles on your clit.

“Look at you, such a good girl, dripping all over my cock.” You moan, clenching around him, your long nails clawing his back, drawing blood as your second orgasm rips through you. His thrusts grow sloppy as you feel him go still inside you. His hot cum, drips down your legs as he withdraws himself from you.

Bucky swipes it with his index finger, rubbing it with his thumb. He brings it to your lips, you swirl your tongue around his long digit, loving the way he tastes. You’re caught off guard when his icy, metal hand collects as much cum as he can, stuffing it back inside you.

You twitch, trying to pull away from the cold hand on your heat. “Ah ah ah.” He scolds. He presses his cool thumb to your clit, toying with the oversensitive pearl. “You have to take every drop.” When he’s satisfied with his work, he makes you lay on your back so it doesn’t drip back out.

You close your eyes, the sweet promise of sleep taking over you. You are almost in dream land when you feel the familiar nudge of Bucky’s cock at your sore center. “What are you doing?” You ask, too tired to fight him. “I’m not finished with you yet, doll.” He smiles wickedly, snapping his hips to fill you again.

Tags

@lokisgoodgirl @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @cakesandtom @eleniblue @marygoddessofmischief @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @wheredafandomat @freegardenbanananeck @lokidokieokie @l0ki3000 @multifandom-worlds @alexakeyloveloki @ladymischief11 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @lamentis-10 @loz-3 @litaloni @lulubelle814 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @avengersfan25 @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mybugabomlb @bunny24sstuff @luthien-elvenia-asher @gruftiela @asgards-princess-of-mischief @weirdothatwritess

[blindmagdalena]

The Dark of Sleep

18+ 3k homelander x reader. no pronouns, no y/n. established relationship, angst, referenced child abuse, referenced sleep deprivation, insomnia, lactation/nursing (no pregnancy referenced), somnophilia, sleepy comfort sex, cream pie, cock warming.

Homelander wakes from a nightmare and seeks comfort in your ever welcoming arms, not minding that you haven't quite woken yet.

Settling has never been an option for Homelander. He has always needed someone who is fierce and will love him until death, who will be on his side no matter the shadow that befalls it. Someone who will destroy and be destroyed by him. He has always needed you.

Homelander doesn't sleep well.

Vought was always testing the boundaries of how human he really was. There came a time when he was a boy they began to reduce his sleep by an hour every few nights.

Each day they would repeat the same grueling tests to see at what point the lack began to affect not only his cognitive abilities, but his powers.

Given the sheer amount of Compound V in his system, there were some who wondered if he really needed to sleep at all.

It would have been miraculous if he didn’t. It would be one more aspect of his perfect design that they could pat themselves on the back for. 

Unfortunately for both him and them, it was not so.

When they realized the deprivation did affect him, they wanted to understand how badly. They continued the deprivation until they had reduced his sleep to nothing at all, keeping him awake by any means necessary. He begged for sleep. 

It’s a marathon, John, Vogelbaum told him. Eleven days. That’s the record for a human. You can beat that, can’t’cha, tiger?

Tiger. It always made him feel stronger when Jonah called him that.

Ultimately it was less about his perseverance and more about his endurance. He didn’t have much choice in the matter of whether or not he would fall asleep.

Every time he started to doze off, an alarm would blare in his room, startling him back awake. I’m sorry, he would sob, riddled with guilt for the perceived failure.

There was never any answer.

His memories of that particular stretch of time are few and far between. He knows that on the fifth day, he started hallucinating. Only then did they finally allow him to sleep, realizing that–in his delirium–he could potentially destroy the facility if they didn’t.

Ever since those experiments, he’s had difficulty falling asleep. Guilt worms its way into his stomach each night, a cold dread that builds the closer he gets to a doze.

He never entirely got over the feeling of disappointment that came with the revelation he was indeed afflicted with this little aspect of humanity.

The scientists had seemed so excited by the prospect that he wouldn’t be.

He often wishes he wasn’t. The guilt is nothing compared to the nightmares that precede it.

Things began to change when you entered the picture.

Unlike him, you love to sleep.

He’d begun to think you might suffer from low grade narcolepsy with how easily you fall into it. Any time you’re being driven in a warm car, snuggled against his side watching television, or you’ve simply been stationary too long, you start to doze off with an ease that he’s never known.

It’s just really easy to sleep when I feel safe, you told him when he called you on it. I feel safe with you.

He had no choice but to kiss you senseless for that.

The time he spends with you changes his perception of sleep. Instead of viewing it as little more than a necessary evil to maintain the condition of his body and mind, he thinks of feeling your body against his.

He thinks of your breaths, deep at first and then growing shallow as you begin to dream.

He thinks of the way he holds you and–even more wonderful–the way you hold him, inviting him into your arms again and again for the explicit purpose of sleep.

No lingering threat of alarms or disappointed looks through a pane of glass. Just you. Just this.

I feel safe with you.

The nightmares lessened. Nowadays he generally sleeps however long you do, but old habits die hard. 

Homelander startles awake, heart racing, the after-images of his nightmare still flashing behind his eyelids every time he blinks.

It takes a moment to register his reality: cuddled up snug against your back, wide awake too early in the morning, the sun only just starting to rise. He exhales roughly, nuzzling at the back of your neck, then your bare shoulder.

The weight of you in his arms is a constant warm comfort, the smell of you intoxicating. He's not even sure he could sleep at all without you anymore. 

Even the way you snore endears him.

He holds you close while the nightmare fades into the back of his mind, his pulse gradually slowing, soothed by the steady beat of yours.

Given the chance, he can't help but explore you. He runs his hand along your naked side, trailing the slopes of your body from your ribs to your outer thigh, then back up. He knows the shape of you as well as he knows the New York skyline.

At times he feels like every curve of you was made just for him. Under the sensitive pads of his fingers he can feel little goosebumps prickling along your skin where he touches you, featherlight and ticklish.

You make a soft sound in your sleep, giving him pause. The corner of his mouth quirks slightly.

Mmm...

He kisses the junction between your neck and your shoulder, ghosting his hand back down your body. On the slide back up, he cups your breast. Supple and full, with every drop of it dedicated to him.

That you do this for him is still a wonder. That you would allow him this forbidden thing without judgment or agenda. It leaves him awestruck: one more trauma that you’ve spun into golden comfort.

He thumbs gently at your nipple, coaxing it until wetness seeps onto his thumb. His cock gives an answering throb at the feel of it, of your body responding to him involuntarily in your sleep. 

"Babe," he whispers against your skin. No response. He licks his lips, his own heart rate picking up with excitement. He kneads your breast slowly, his mouth bone dry, achingly thirsty for the answering rivulets of milk that drip onto his hand.

Still you don’t wake. He gingerly lifts away from you, helping you to roll back into the dip in the bed his hand pressed into it creates, your torso turned towards him.

You’re deep asleep, your head lolled to one side. 

Leaning in, he meets your pearl-soft skin with a kiss just at the swell of your breast, peppering more further down. Your scent fills his nose, sharpest in the line between your breasts. He runs his mouth slowly over them, between them. You smell of maple and summer rain. Heady, sweet, wistful.

“Babe,” he says once more, voice too soft to actually rouse you.

Just enough that he’d be able to say he tried to wake you. That you’re not even conscious adds to the taboo nature of what he’s about to do, thrilling something deep inside him.

Despite your encouragement, getting what he’s always wanted has never stopped feeling like thievery. Like something he was never meant to have.

His stomach flips while his cock throbs as he takes your nipple into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut. He rumbles a quiet moan for the taste of you filling his mouth, tongue pressing against the firm bud.

You taste sweeter than you smell, your skin even softer against his tongue. He sucks slowly and gently, flooding his mouth nearly to the point of spill before he swallows, greedy for the taste of you.

You sigh a sweet little noise and his heart jumps again, lids flickering open to glance up at you.

Still asleep.

He rolls your nipple with his tongue, presses it into his top teeth just enough that more nectarine warmth spills into his mouth and you shiver against him.

Fuck, he thinks, nearly moans the thought aloud into your skin. Arousal mingles with the cream-sweet smell of you and it sends a pang of heat through him so intense that his body curls against yours, his hardening cock pressing into the curve of your ass. 

He moves his hand a touch more firmly down your body, over your stomach, further until his fingertips brush your clit. He begins rubbing slow, gentle circles while he continues to suck.

You moan so very sweetly, a breathy sound pulled from deep in your chest even as you sleep.

Resisting the urge to bite, he holds you to him, grinding against your ass.

He's achingly hard now and more than a little desperate for your active participation. He lifts from your breast with a wet pop, panting softly.

"Babe," he murmurs, louder now, more urgent. "Honey... Wake up," he says, breath tickling the shell of your ear. He rubs more firmly between your thighs, coaxing you in more ways than one.

With a sharp inhale you finally wake, disoriented with sleep.

"Mmm, wha—Nnnngh..." you moan, reflexively grabbing him by the wrist.

He always runs warmer than you, but even so he can feel how hot your skin is against his. You come out of sleep with feverish need already in full gear, your cunt velvet soft against his fingers.

He exhales a heated sigh along your neck. He uses the arm crooked under you to catch hold of your jaw and turn your head to face him, kissing you fervently.

"Need you," he murmurs between kisses. "Couldn't help myself," he says by way of half-hearted apology, the words tumbling out in an urgent stream of desire. “M’so hungry.”

He craves more than milk, more than a fuck, more than pleasure and flesh. He knows there is an emptiness inside him–knows even the people who put it there–and that so few things in this world have ever scratched the surface of what it would mean to fill that pit.

Your love has come the closest.

Settling has never been an option for him. He has always needed someone who is fierce and will love him until death, who will be on his side no matter the shadow that befalls it. Someone who will destroy and be destroyed by him. He has always needed you.

Still half asleep, you reach between your legs, beyond his hand, and grasp blindly at his cock, surprising a breathless little moan out of him. Parting your thighs, you guide his cock between them and then tighten them back together.

"Don't stop," you tell him, voice frayed with sleep and arousal in equal parts.

He eagerly puts his hand back to work massaging circles over your clit, stopping only briefly to bring his fingers up to his lips, sucking them into his mouth, savoring the heady flavor of you while thoroughly wetting them before he puts them right back where they belong.

He thrusts against you, fucking the plush, warm space between your thighs, your cunt wet and perfectly soft along the top of his cock.

Hooking your arm over the back of his neck, you slide your fingers into his hair and grip it gently, bringing his mouth to yours. He licks your own taste into your mouth, groaning his pleasure, his fervence. You clench your thighs until he breaks from your lips with a gasp.

“Inside,” you urge him, licking your lips. He stares at the shine of them, transfixed by how kiss-swollen and delicious they look. “I want you inside me.”

He nods deliriously, pausing his stroking of you in order to align himself, letting out a shaky breath for the wet heat of your cunt against the head of his cock.

The novelty of this never dies; how fucking good it feels when your pussy opens to him, the silky pull of your quivering walls stealing the breath from his lungs.

The hungry flutter of noise that scrapes up your throat as he bottoms out nearly makes him come then and there.

He screws his eyes shut, filling both palms with the weight of your breasts, kneading with tight restraint, spurred by the quickening breaths that bloom from your parted lips.

Your eyes meet his, bleary and wild.

“I love you,” you say breathlessly. “Mm, you feel so good. Harder, wanna feel your strength,” you moan, breath hitching when he obeys you, when he lets go just a fraction more of his power and his skin slaps against yours with force enough to make you gasp.

Your words wrap tight around his heart like a fist. He swallows the lump in his throat and kisses you once, twice, thrice, each one more desperate than the last.

He holds your stare, lips parted, brows furrowed. He’s never fucked someone who holds his gaze the way you do. It’s as if you don’t want to miss a single moment of the pleasure you give him.

It drives him insane.

He wants nothing more than for you to never take your eyes off of him, to shower him always in your love. Your attention would be wasted anywhere else.

You were made for him.

“I love you, too,” he says, voice strained, hips rolling in sharp, deep thrusts that really make you start to sing for him. "Ffffuck, fuck," he moans, thrusts turning jagged the closer he climbs to his release. He slides one hand down your side, hikes your leg up so that he can fuck you deeper. 

He's determined to bring you to the edge with him, adjusting until he finds the angle that makes you cry out and yank his hair.

"Homelander," you gasp, your skin pricking with goosebumps, pussy locking up around him the closer you get.

You're fully awake now, shaken from the haze of sleep, but helpless to do anything but hold on against the onslaught of his thrusts. You squeeze his hair with one hand and grab his wrist with the other.

"Oh, god. That feels so f-fucking good, gonna make me, make me—"

He doesn't get to hear the rest of it, but he feels it.

He feels your whole body tense in exquisite agony; your hold on his hair tightening, your nails biting ineffective crescents into the invulnerable skin of his wrist, but it’s the soaked convulsing of your cunt quivering tight all around him that hurls him over the precipice of his own release.

His brows knit tightly together, eyes screwing shut right before that last tether of control snaps and he drives his hips up. He comes hard on that deep thrust, spilling load after load into you, your pussy greedily milking his cock with the aftershocks of your own climax.

He forgets to breathe for a solid minute, the orgasm shaking him to his core. He sucks in a shaky breath when the tremors settle, exhaling roughly as he gently rocks his hips into the wet mess he's made of your cunt, burying his face into your chest, nuzzling at the same breast he’d had his lips on.

The two of you spend a few moments just breathing, gradually floating down from the high of it, peaceful silence falling over you both. He nuzzles you, smiling dreamily in the aftermath of his pleasure. He kisses your breast as you stroke your fingers through his hair. 

When you cup the back of his head, subtly pulling him to your chest, he takes the hint and sucks your nipple back into his mouth, exhaling a deep breath from his nose.

He falls into a near trance like this, his eyes heavily lidded and glazed over. Your fingers card through his hair, your body a warm sanctuary that he keeps himself buried deep within, your limbs slotted perfectly against one another.

Each stroke along his scalp sends pleasant tingles down his spine. You bring him a peace that he once could have only imagined for himself.

He feels your love in every tender touch, hears it in the steady thrum of your heart. He's thoroughly addicted to you, intoxicated by the effortlessness with which you soothe him, with which you love him.

“God, that was amazing,” you murmur. The praise is so tender, so earnest that it helps him come down slowly from his high, turning his freefall into a gradual descent. “You're amazing."

Once satiated–at least for now–Homelander pulls from your breast with a soft pop, placing a kiss upon it before adjusting properly behind you, allowing you back onto your side. He nuzzles at your neck, kissing the shell of your ear. He moves to pull out, but you stop him.

“Stay,” you tell him, voice wrung out and as sweet as a vanilla milkshake. You stroke his thigh, nails scraping exquisitely along his skin. He loves the way you feel against him after he fucks you; warm and thoroughly claimed. “Feels good.”

Smiling–amazed by all that you are–he eases himself flush to you once more, wrapping both arms around your middle and squeezing as tight as he dares, wringing a cute little hum from you.

You interlace your fingers with his, squeezing his hand in turn.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs at your ear, brushing his lips over the shell of it. He’s been in relationships before–he’s loved before–but it’s never felt like this. It never felt like something eagerly shared with him until it was coming from you.

Now that he has it, he’d sooner burn the whole world down than ever be without it again.

You give a ticklish little shiver against him. “Go’sleep,” you tell him, snuggling into your pillow. “‘Fore I get grumpy.”

He laughs, settling his head down on the pillow behind yours. “Is that a threat?”

“Mmhm,” you say, and before he can respond, you–in all your delicious cruelty–clench down on his spent cock hard enough to make him groan.

He buries his face into the back of your neck, exhaling a rough little breath. It won’t be long before the wet heat of you riles him right back up and he’s ready to go again.

“Gonna make me hard again,” he warns, licking his lips. He’d much rather go for round two than go back to sleep.

“Gimme another hour,” you say, the words beginning to slur as you fade back into it yourself, a smile audible in your voice. “Then you can make that my problem.” He grins, those words like music to his ears.

Just as he said–you’re fucking perfect.

[devildomwriter]

Obey Me As Tumblr #28

Solomon: Boil up some Mountain Dew. It’s gonna be a long night

Barbatos: You could have said anything else

Solomon: Cauldron boil and cauldron bubble, Baja blast to fuel my trouble

•

MC: Got a vibe check at Claire’s

Thirteen: How was it?

MC: I have 3 weeks to live

•

Mammon: If only I were Kpop. Then you’d all see.

Leviathan: You’re already popular and widely hated. What more do you want???

Mammon: Thanks for saying that

•

Belphegor: How does it feel to be a god?

MC: Idk ask me after I do 10 pushups

Beelzebub: Do ten pushups then

MC: Fuck you. No

•

Belphegor: Might fuck around and walk into a thick fog and never return idk

•

Mammon: Mark my fucking worms

Satan: This statement dealt 10 damage to everyone in a 2 mile radius

•

Solomon:

Help me, I am trapped

Inside a haiku factory

Save me, before they

Simeon:

I got your message

And have snuck my way inside

Oh my god, what the

•

Asmodeus: You’re all beautiful in your own special way

Leviathan: Actually, I am very ugly

Asmodeus: Okay then I was wrong

•

Leviathan: You know what better than weed? Water

Mammon: Here’s the dumb bitch again

Leviathan: Shut up you dehydrated high motherfucker

•

Raphael: Why does baby Yoda have completely different eyes to as an adult…

Diavolo: Puberty

Leviathan: You know how people’s baby teeth fall out

Raphael: Thank you for equally awful answers

•

Asmodeus: The sexual tension between two gas stations on the same intersection

Thirteen: I’m so sick of this shit. Two gas stations can’t even be on the same block without someone shipping them, while I can’t find a single fic of Denny’s/Applebee’s with Denny bottoming

Solomon: You’re literally out of your mind if you think Denny’s isn’t a top

Lucifer: I wish the 2012 apocalypse actually happened

•

Asmodeus: Does anyone know a single redeeming fact about New Hampshire? Is anything good about it?

MC: Letters can be arrange to spell “heh…penis warm”

Asmodeus: How tragic that a place so wretched should be blessed

•

Solomon: I think we can be evil. As a treat

MC: We?

Solomon: We :)

•

MC: Old people? More like fold people

*makes an origami swan out of grandma*

Lucifer: Literally what was going through your mind that motivated you to make this?

•

Leviathan: Tumblr is just talking to yourself but for an audience

Simeon: That’s called a soliloquy

Leviathan: Found the theater kid. Get em boys

•

Mammon: Coats and jackets are too aesthetically pleasing to only wear during the cold seasons. I think scientists need to stop doing their dumb bullshit and band together to invent a jacket that can be worn whilst it’s hot out

Mephistopheles: Vests?

Mammon: You’re so lucky a computer screen protects you from my hands

Last • Next

[morally-grey-girlbosses]

Taylor Hebert artwork courtesy of @senviva!

Propaganda under the cut.

Taylor Hebert AKA Skitter has too much propaganda for this post! Her propaganda post can be found here.

Caroline/GLaDOS

you know her you love her!!!!! tumblr's favorite unethical mad scientist robot lesbian! you can't have a poll like this without her

neurotoxin :)

I have no energy to write propaganda I’m sorry but she deserves this!!!! She’s the antagonist of all time. She’s funny and smart and passive aggressive and lying to your face. She’s filling the room with neurotoxin. She’s still alive.

FUCK I FORGOT ABOUT MY GIRL. Anyways Glados did nothing wrong.

Constantly mean to Chell, in love with Chell, tries to murder Chell, saves Chell's life, helps Chell, hinders Chell, is a potato, used to be a secretary before being forced to upload her consciousness into a personality sphere, floods the facility with deadly neurotoxin, is a sexy robot... need I say more?

OK SO she killed all those people BUT they confined her to an immortal hell as a digital being so like??? deserved. it's implied she may have hated Cave and some cut dialogue even suggests she was forced into GLADOS against her will. she was just getting her revenge what's so wrong with that!!!!

[nanamis-angel]

𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐬! ♡

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ৹ you and yuji are classmates and you might have a lil crush on him. so what happens when nobara suddenly notices this and drags megumi along to "spy" on the both of you when you suddenly agree to go with yuji to the theater and watch some silly movie?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ৹ yuji x fem!reader, fluff, chaos, overall silliness, this is honestly more about nobara being chaotic and megumi being dragged along into it. megumi is lowkey a lil hater but I love him.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ৹ 1.4k

𝐚/𝐧 ৹ because we all need a little silly jjk content after the most recent jjk leaks. also apologies for any improper grammar or misspellings, this is hardly proofread. (hearts divider by @/s-h-o-w-y).

“So really the theme of it is love!” You watched as Yuji, your fellow classmate, desperately tried to explain the plot of Human Earth worm four to Megumi and Nobara. Their facial expressions showed that they were clearly uninterested in it.

“Sounds childish, I’d rather spend my time on something worth it.” Nobara replied. Clearly they had two separate definitions of “worth it.”

Yuji’s eyes fell on Megumi, all big and beady as if he were begging him to agree. Megumi just scratched the back of his head. “I’m not really a big movie person.” He said, looking away as to try and push off Yuji’s plea casually.

After his friends answer, Yuji had a look of defeat on his face, disappointed that no one wanted to watch the movie with him. You knew it was something that he enjoyed and you didn’t want him to feel bad or that none of his friends cared about his interests, so you spoke quickly after seeing his face.

“Uh, I’ll go see it with you.” You said, hoping that it would fix Yuji’s sad mood.

Immediately, Yuji’s face lit up. “Really?” He asked.

But before you could even answer, he grabbed your hand and started for the door. “Great! Lets go!”

You yelped as he practically dragged you along with the biggest smile on his face—completely innocently. And out the door the two of you went.

Megumi and Nobara watched the scene with confused expressions before Nobara’s changed to one of contemplation. “Huh? What’s up with you?” Megumi asked, noticing her face.

“I know for a fact [Name] doesn’t like movies like that… So why would she agree to go?” Nobara spoke her thoughts out loud as a reply, furrowing her brows in confusion.

“What are you trying to get at?” Megumi asked, slightly irritated by her cryptic reply. Perhaps he was just slightly unaware of the possibilities that Nobara seemed to have caught onto really quickly.

Nobara seemed to connect the dots in her head. “Unless… She feels bad for Itadori because she likes him and that’s why she agreed to go!” She exclaimed proudly as if she had just solved some sort of mystery.

Megumi’s facial expression turned to one of confusion—maybe even with a little bit of shock before it fell into one of unamusement. “Are you serious?” he asked at her ridiculous notion. “She could totally just be pitying him. That doesn’t mean she likes him.”

“Are you a girl?” Nobara deadpanned, her stare like daggers.

Megumi’s brows furrowed. “What? No. What’s that got to do with anything?”

Nobara crossed her arms. “Exactly, so you don’t know how women function. I can see it in her eyes, she totally likes Itadori. And now you and I are going to go spy on them and get answers!”

“Are you crazy?” Megumi asked. “it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Pfft, says you.” Nobara taunted. “I’m bored and I know you are too, so let’s go! I need something exciting to happen around here!”

***

In the theater, you were awfully close to Yuji as the movie played. You had to admit the mad scientist was a little unnerving, even for you, a girl who fought curses every other day. So you found yourself instinctively latching onto Yuji’s arm and secretly wondering when the theme of “love” Yuji claimed was in the movie earlier was going to happen.

From the back of theater, Nobara was keeping her eyes fixed on the two of you towards the front. “Look, see? She’s holding on to his arm!” She whispered to Megumi.

The two of them (AKA Nobara and a very unwilling Megumi) had snuck into the theater so you and Yuji wouldn’t see them. Nobara had been paying close attention to you and Yuji the entire time in order to see any sort of affectionate exchange. Megumi, however, just blankly stared at the big screen, wondering how Yuji even enjoyed stuff like this.

Yuji chuckled as he felt your arm wrap around his in suspense. “The mad scientist is kind of crazy, isn’t he?”

You nodded your head. “Mhm, conducting experiments like that is psychotic.” You replied in a whisper. “When does the romance start?”

Yuji smiled. “Soon!” he replied.

Truly, on the inside, Yuji’s heart was absolutely soaring. Having you so close to him and so casually too—it made his heart clench. He had always had a little crush on you ever since meeting you, but out of respect for you, he never said anything.

He never wanted to make you uncomfortable or anything but knowing that you felt comfortable enough with him was making his absolute day.

Megumi had hear your voices and saw just how content Yuji looked. His brows furrowed in confusion. “It can’t mean anything. Itadori is always smiling.” He thought to himself. There was no way Nobara could be right about this… Or could she?

***

As the movie ended, you were shocked to see that the movie really was indeed about love and the main character had found love despite his unique and different circumstances. It was oddly endearing when you thought about it.

“Wow, I guess it really was about love.” You said as you and Yuji began to walk towards the exit together.

��Yeah! It was great, wasn’t it?” Yuji asked with a big smile.

You nodded and then felt your cheeks heat up as your hand brushed against his. But before you could do anything, Yuji took hold of it—his smile never fading. He had done it so casually it almost shocked you but you didn’t mind it. You averted your gaze however, not wanting him to see the embarrassed look on your face.

This was definitely not how you were expecting this to go but you didn’t mind. Besides… you had already been kinda crushing on your fellow classmate for quite some time already.

“They’re leaving!” Nobara alerted Megumi, shaking him. “Wait, are they holding hands?!”

In just a few seconds, Megumi attempted to get up from his seat and leave the aisle already and Nobara tried to push past him, trying to get a better look to see if you and Yuji were really holding hands or not. And then both of them toppled over each other onto the hard ground of the cinema.

Your head snapped over to where you could now see Megumi and Nobara on the floor. Megumi looked as if he were about to summon Mahoraga he were extremely agitated that Nobara had just sent him barreling for the floor and she looked like a caught kid the moment her eyes met yours.

Then, Yuji noticed them too. “Oh! Fushiguro, Kugisaki what are you doing here?” he asked, obliviously. “I thought neither of you wanted to come!”

Nobara rushed to her feet, scratching the back of her neck. “We changed our minds!” She lied, blurting out the words. “We just didn’t want to bother you guys!”

“Right.” Megumi gritted out as he got up and dusted himself off. He glared daggers at Nobara for a brief moment.

“Oh, well the movie was cool, right?” Yuji asked as the four of you continued to the exit. At this point, you and Nobara were counting on Megumi to answer the question.

As you walked out, you slowed to be right by Nobara. “You came to spy on me and Yuji, didn’t you?” You asked with a smug little grin.

Nobara sighed, knowing it was pointless to deny it. “Fine, you caught me. But I was so bored.” She spoke in defense of herself.

You let out a loud laugh. “And you dragged Fushiguro into this?” You snorted, wondering how she had even gotten Megumi out of the school and to the theater in the first place. Now that must’ve taken some convincing.

(Or perhaps Megumi was slightly intimidated by Nobara; which was reasonable.)

“Hey, at least I was right.” She huffed, crossing her arms. But then she looked at you with some curiosity in her eyes. “But I have to ask… when did you start taking interest in Itadori anyway? It feels like it came out of nowhere.”

“It kind of did.” You replied, your eyes set on Yuji, watching him as he walked and talked right beside Megumi. “I mean, I guess I’ve kind of liked him for a while but today was the manifestation, I suppose. He’s really sweet and he’s really passionate about the things he loves… Makes me wonder what he’d be like in a relationship.”

As your gaze was fixed upon him, Nobara could tell you were getting a little lost in your imagination and she knew exactly what that meant for you and Yuji in the next coming months.

Her look of curiosity immediately turned to a smug look and under her breath she whispered. “I was right. Take that, Fushiguro.”

[zizbombs]

What’s your opinion on String theory? Btw I’m 100% for legend hate-maxing

short answer? crazy tinker lady is hot

Long answer is that I really love string theory for generally what she represents. Her personality, look and power are all really fucking good, the crazy mad scientist, the doomsday clock ticking down one second at a time as the heroes rush to stop it, it's all very reminiscent of the classic superhero stuff. What I like about it in particular, is that she's inside of the birdcage. There isn't any dastardly scheme to escape and cause havoc again, it's over. that part is done, and largely the age of more of the classic supervillains are done- it ended with the 'golden age' of superheroes. The birdcage to me acts similarly to a time capsule, or kind of a place to put all the archetypical villains that wouldn't fly in the real world because of how dangerous they are, like galvante being the classic mob boss guy, or teacher being the mastermind type. now all we have are gang leaders and shit. Also, (haven't read worm in a while so this could be wrong) but she fills the similar niche that other capes do in expanding the setting's power level. the birdcage has been built up as like this fuckin hell on earth place with all the toughest motherfuckers around, and she's one of the first looks we get at a cell block leader's power level, which was probably hitting scion with the most amount of force he's been hit with in that part of gold morning and getting flung into a mountain or whatever. she just fuckin built that shit idk it's cool. to me it always fucks when this random guy shows up that maybe offhand you've heard mentioned once and they do some cool shit and you can soyface and point at them like!! thats cool!! also she's super hot and crazy

[theturtlelovers]

Hi! May I request, for the sentence prompts, number 5: “I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.” For a female reader with Donnie who are bf and gf, and the reader is saying it to Don?

₽Φ₭€ ƒΦ₹ A₮₮€₪₮¡Φ₪

Pairing: Donnie/GN!Reader Rating: Everyone Contents: The reader is implied to be female in request but can be interpreted otherwise, Donnie licks icing off of pop tarts Warnings: None Wordcount: 666

Notes: Hehe, getting back to knocking those requests down! It'll be a while before I even consider reopening requests, though.

What you were doing wasn't particularly new. It had become a routine to lovingly annoy your boyfriend until he had no choice but to turn his attention to you. Because miraculously, the moment he did, he would see you fluttering your lashes and sending him a sickeningly sweet smile dripping with feigned innocence. If it were his brothers, Donnie would be ready to scold them to the point they'd regret even being in the same proximity as him. Yet, because of that victory grin you would flash when you got him to look at you, he couldn't bring himself to do so.

And it was very interesting because you'd always find new ways to grab his attention.

One time, you texted him that you needed assistance at your apartment. Being the helpful lover he is, he came over ready to lend a hand, only to find that you had lied and just wanted to have dinner with him. Although annoyed as his mind was already recalling his list of tasks, he realized how hungry he was and how much he yearned for your touch. So, he ate the home-cooked food you made and then stayed even longer for movies. 

Another time was when he hadn't emerged from his lab for nearly an entire week. While you absolutely respected the effort and dedication he put into his work, you missed him, and he seriously needed to take care of himself. So you sat next to him and started reading. Out loud. Very monotonously. And it was the Bible! "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth," you began, your voice droning on in a blank tone. "And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep.”

Donnie didn’t register it at first, but then he looked at you in absolute confusion.

"And God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light," you continued, not missing a beat.

“What are you doing?” If he had eyebrows, they’d definitely be raised right now. In his confusion, he was trying to fight a smile creeping up.

You looked up from the overly thin pages of the scripture, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “What do you think? I’m reading till you love me again.”

The self-taught scientist rolled his eyes, his annoyed confusion forgotten. “Okay, okay, come here.” Then there was that smile.

This time, you decided to employ the most annoying yet basic tactic to garner his attention: poking him repeatedly. Leo had once again clumsily broken the toaster, and it was out of commission. Donnie wanted to be able to toast his Pop-Tarts before licking the icing off later, so repairing the toaster was an absolute must.

It was hard to do that, though, when you slid in like a worm (he’d still love you as a worm; you’d be beneficial in different ways) and started poking him.

The first few pokes didn’t bother him at first. They were so fleeting and feathery he didn’t really care that you were touching him. They weren’t impeding his work.

But then they got a bit harder. And longer. And it was actually affecting his ability to think since you were choosing to poke random spots.

“I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.”

Donnie took a deep breath and slowly turned to you. You blinked at him blankly. God, he was so lucky was madly in love and your cute face and pretty lips- Donnie’s eyes closed for a moment. He took another deep breath and released it with a small shake of his head.

“Well, you certainly have it now.”

You did your little weird giggle as if you were some sort of gremlin. “Hehe! What’d the toaster do to Leo this time?”

While he recalled Leo’s version of the grand battle he had against the appliance, Donnie couldn’t help grinning when he saw the same smile you always have. Victory once again.

Tagging: @mrghostings, @whygz, @supershiny-raven Interested in getting tagged? Come check it out!

Like what you read? Check out my masterlist to see if you find anything else!

[phoenixyfriend]

I’m always a little Meh on people making Cody the same age (or older) than Obi-Wan in AUs that don’t take place in the gffa. Because. Listen.

Hot fresh grad Cody with some impressive job as like... a newscaster or a male model or some military thing... dating a bedraggled rumpled wet cat of a middle-aged Bug Scientist, and thinking this easily-distracted disaster is the hottest shit ever, while his brothers look on in absolute confusion and mild horror.

Obi-Wan can clean up nice and be this refined professor type with perfectly coiffed hair and perfectly groomed beard and perfectly pressed sweatervest combo and a perfectly cultured accent... but then he sees a rare Parasitic Worm in the bushes by the koi pond, and suddenly he’s covered in mud and bleeding and holding up this specimen with demands for a mason jar so he can get it back to a lab and see if they can get this into that one breeding program over in the university three states over.

And 22yo ‘could have literally anyone he wants’ Cody is like 😍

[alien-magnolia]

Mine and His <3

Fic Description: As a background type scientist, you aren’t very special in the world of Pandora. That changes, when you are noticed by Jake Sully, and fortunately, his rival, Colonel Quaritch. 18+ MDNI!!!

Tw: Implied non-con, power dynamics, dom-coded! Jake sully + Miles Quaritch, sub-coded hyperfem!reader, fingering, Jake/Quaritch talking down to reader/ bimbofication, ownership, major size kink bc human reader.

A/n: this turned out way longer than I thought, and I originally meant to post it on Christmas.its a bit hard for me to consistently post now. Anyways, merry belated Christmas/ holidays, and hope yall enjoy my first time bringing the very (hot) Miles Quaritch to life!! Don’t we love the balance between a young Jake Sully and an older Miles Quaritch <3 I am planning to make a part two with more intense smut! Stay tuned! (this was lacking a bit 😭) alsooo pls help a gorl out and reblog if you like this!!

The moon rose above you as you made your way to the forest, your mask in tow, and your boots. You were meeting Jake at the edge of the forest. He would not want you to venture in alone. Your tiny human form could not take it, as he would say. The Na’vi man was extremely possessive over you. The leaves rustled amongst the wind, bioluminescent crickets danced in the air.

You stand still as the ferns brush against your leg, wondering where your Jake was. You came to Pandora as a sort of background character — always behind the scenes, never noticed, usually brushed to the side. You were apart of the anthropological and religion team, researching and observing Na’vi culture, religion, and social relations and norms.

Every morning, you rose from your cold, metallic, cot, put on your oxygen mask, and worked at the lab from 8-5. Sometimes you would be invited into the community to learn, yet you never lingered around too long. The other scientists were more fluent in Na’vi than you were, and so, they would make a better impression.

It was only until one night, where the half-moon rose and shone over the sky, swirled as if it was cotton candy, was the night where you became noticed. You, made an impression.

~ Three months ago ~

You stayed to observe a Na’vi ritual, one called the “Sun Dance,” where one ingests a hallucinogenic worm in order to have a vision of their fate for the future, their destiny. This ritual served to breach the gap between the sacred and the normal, the ordinary, to alter reality in which a religion exists everywhere — not only in a book or a house. This was Na’vi religion — Animism.

You enjoyed the ritual and truly felt that you were starting to grow connected with the community. However, you were still a bit unfamiliar with the forest, and accidentally happened to wander onto a slippery log — that also acted as a bridge for a deep canyon below. Your tiny human feet stumbled across the bridge, and then slipped. You landed on your stomach, then realizing the vast canyon below — and that you would face sudden death if you were to drop into it. You screamed out in pain as a branch pierced your leg. You hear heavy steps behind you, you pass out.

You wake up beneath a bioluminescent large plant, with its long tendrils gently swaying over your face. You feel something on your leg, and look to see quite a handsome Na’vi man tending to your thigh, which had a large scrape on it.

“Hey. You’re awake. Almost fell there, girl.” You study his features a bit more. His hair is long, black, his eyes a deep yellow. Chiseled jaw, veiny arms, and wide shoulders <3 adorned with an interesting necklace. You muster the courage to speak to this beautiful man in front of you.

“Yes, I — um, sorry. I should have been more careful. I’m still a bit unfamiliar with the forest, although I’ve done many studies here,” you explain to him. “S’alright. I can take you back to your home base, if ya like,” the man offers, his tail swishing a bit. He must have been excited to talk to you. You blush at the note of attention from him, and agree.

The two of you begin walking back, the Na’vi man stopping momentarily to make sure there were no creatures of harm nearby. You learned his name was Jake. Jake Sully. You watch his long braid sway from side to side, like a pendulum, as you walk behind him. The two of you have been talking, sharing your stories, your journeys, what brought the two of you to Pandora, respectively.

“Was a marine, when I first came here. I was trying to pay for my surgery, to well — get my legs back. M’sure you know, the RDA loves screwing everyone over. ‘Specially me,” Jake explained to you, as he led you through the dark, softly glowing canopy of trees.

“So you weren’t very good at school, then, I assume,” you snicker, trying to poke a bit of fun at him. “And you are?,” he retorts back, emitting a deep hearty laugh, a sound you liked. “I do have a PhD, yes,” you giggle a bit as you look to see his reaction. He only huffs, yet you swore you could see a little smile behind that stoic face of his.

The two of you continued to walk back and engage in this somewhat flirtatious banter. He led you back to your lab, wishing you a goodnight.

“Jake, wait,” you touch his arm as he was about to leave, and he flinched, his ears folding back. He turns to you. “I would want to see you again. It would be nice, I think,” you offer, hoping he would take the initiative. “Hmm. Doubt it. You stay safe, miss PhD,” he retorts, and runs off into the forest.

Yet you wouldn’t take his “doubt it” for an answer.

The following night, you ventured again into the forest, hoping to find him. You might as well take a few pictures, hoping to find your way into the Omaticaya village. You did not find your way there, and instead ended up running into a few creatures. Jake saw, luckily, and saved your “prissy lil’ self” (as he called it) again.

Nights with Jake became a regular occasion. Although you and him had more of a fair share of differences, you found it to be true, that opposites attract.

————

~ Present Day ~

You smiled as you remembered how you first met him. The two of you only went on ‘dates’ together, where he would show you an interesting place he liked in the forest, or take you on a ride on his ikran. Nothing more, just conversation.

Yet, the more you got to know him, the more you wanted him. In a way that surpasses conversations or dates. You really had hoped that tonight, you could go further.

Everything about him was just perfect. His shining eyes, his strong arms, his beautiful voice that made you feel so safe <3.

You hear his footsteps behind you. “Babygirl. How’s my favorite scientist doing?,” he chuckles, his big hands gently gripping your face, giving you a kiss on top of your head. “Good,” you giggle, reaching up to give him a hug. You always have felt so safe in his arms.

“Where are we off to tonight?,” you curiously poke at him as he leads you over a bridge — the both of you hearing the gentle splash of the pond below. “You’ll see, hun. Somewhere real special,” he reassures. Where could this place be? How exactly could you get here, to be spending time with this beautiful Na’vi man, who possibly could be yours??

The anticipation was simply too much to handle. “Wanted t’a bring ya here, to ask somethin’. Was thinkin’ you see, that you could become a true member of the Omaticaya. Pass all our tests and all,” he says, while you lean your head on his shoulder.

You think on it for a bit. “But why, Jake? It would mean that I need a Na’vi body…,” you trail off. “Exactly. Ever since the day I met you, sweetie, I wanted you to be mine. You’re just too goddamn adorable for your own good,” he chuckles. “Can’t make you mine though, officially, without you becoming a tuté (woman) of our people. You will prove yourself to the Tsahik. We will mate, then. For life. You’ll be mine, girl,” he smiles warmly at you.

You agreed, overwhelmed with happiness!! “My Jake, why can’t we mate now?,” you ask, although as a Pandoran anthropologist, you knew the answer. Your human body was no match for his Na’vi strength. If you were to mate now, not only would it be against Omaticaya customs, his sheer power would most likely kill you!!

“Thought you knew the answer there, Miss PhD,” he teases. “How’s about this. I give you a little taste of what’s to come if you join the people of the forest,” his voice shifts to a deeper tone, his eyes a bit hooded now.

A large blue hand the size of your head gently grips your face, turning you towards him. His soft lips plant a few kisses on the top of your head, moving down to your neck. All of a sudden, your oxygen mask gets a little too hot for your face <3 your heartbeat quickens as well.

“Jake…I’d love nothing more than to join the Omaticaya,” you pant, in between breaths as he continues his ministrations. “That’s my good girl. See if those scientists of yours can make you an avatar. Want you to be mine,” he purrs, with a bit of a darker undertone as his large hands squeeze and grope the plush curves of your body — to the point where it’s painful.

You pant and squeal as his fingers trace patterns on your soft tummy, his large face planting a few kisses there as well. “Love this human body, babygirl. Bet your Na’vi one would be even better…,” he praises you. <3

His fingers were getting lower and lower, tracing circles on the hem of your waistband. “Jake…,” you pant out. “Want you…,” a cry, a plea for help. You had no idea how intense your fervor was for him, until now.

“Can’t give you all of me, hun. You can’t take me yet, m’ too big for you. Don’t want ta hurt your pretty little body,” he chastised you, his yellow eyes full of concern.

Just about when you were to agree, to let him give you a taste, that taste that you’ve been waiting for, that taste that your heart (and other parts of you) ached for, the two of you heard a rustling behind, in the bushes.

Out step two steel toed boots, a blue RDA uniform. At first you thought it was someone human — you were surprised to see that it was a Na’vi man wearing the suit. You quickly try to hide, using Jake’s wide chest as a safe haven.

Jake’s eyes burn with rage, disgust. His ears fold back, a low growl escapes his throat, his Adam’s apple moving slightly.

“Miss me, corporal?”

This man had a smug way of expressing himself, hands on his hips. He looked to be a bit older than Jake.

“Forgot about our agreement, all those years ago, Sully?” Jake hissed in response, telling this man, whom he called ‘Quaritch,’ to kindly fuck off.

Quaritch, a man of his word, did not take this as an answer, and continued to move closer.

Until he saw you. He stopped. “Whose this you’ve got here, corporal?” Jake hisses again, standing up this time to shield you from Quaritch. “Leave her out of this,” his tone low, possessive, angry.

“Why don’t you come on out, cupcake?,” his eyes turn towards you. Just like your Jake’s, you saw that they were full of lust, hunger. No affection, though. They were cold, empty. This man was attractive — yes, yet something about him felt off.

Jake reassures you that you don’t have to do it — until Quaritch himself pulls you out from behind Jake’s back. Quaritch circles you, tutting, eyebrows raised.

He turns to Jake. “Got yerself a sweet little toy, huh, Sully? My, my, she’s quite a looker,” Quaritch comments, his voice sickeningly sweet, as his large blue hand plays with your hair. Jake was fuming — ready to start a fight with the man. It was clear that the two had a past rivalry, and never made amends.

It was also clear that the two wanted you.

“How’s about this, corporal? Your little girl here, could very well seal our agreement, don’t ya think?,” he taunts Jake.

“She’s mine, Quaritch. Don’t even think about it.” Quaritch then retorted that it was either this, or his rifle. Jake then agreed.

“Glad we’re on the same page, Sully. She’ll be ours, to share, won’t ya, cupcake? How’s about I show you how we do things where I’m from, hmm?,” his southern accent cooing at you goes straight to your core, between your legs.

You glance at Jake, hesitantly watching. Quaritch then sits down, his giant arms pulling you into his lap, one hand behind your head, the other on your hip.

“Such a pretty girl. Gonna give you something to feel good about,” he chuckles, peppering your face and neck with kisses, his fangs slightly biting into your shoulder as you gasp!!

Jake is infuriated, still watching from the side, although he looks like he is enjoying watching you get ravished by the older Na’vi. Quaritch’s soft lips trail down your soft tummy and waistline, your small hand intertwined with his rough, calloused one.

His fingers trail your waistband — realizing that Jake already pulled off your clothes — your wetness soaked his thigh. <3

“Aww. How cute, pussy’s all soaked f’me. I think I know what she wants,” he taunts you, showing you his big fingers, almost the length of your arm. <3

You nod vigorously, completely forgetting about Jake. “Yes. Please, please, anything,” you beg him. “How’s about you call me sir, hmm, sweet cheeks? More fittin’, don’t’cha think?,” his southern voice drips as if it were melted caramel, seeping through to your inner submission to these beautiful, tall, men.

You were their toy, theirs to own, theirs to play with, theirs to use as they please and see fit. That’s all you could think about, as your tongue hung out, your eyes closed, small hand gripping the watch on Quaritch’s hand, as his two fingers worked and massaged your gummy walls over and over.

You thought of belonging to the two Na’vi men, passed around from the loving arms of your soon to be mate, to the vicious and unrelenting force that was Miles Quaritch, your ‘sir.’ For these two men, you were fine with leaving your life as a scientist behind, just to trail them around.

You were giddy with the thought of it, as you came undone around Quaritch’s fingers, his reassuring words, “let go f’me, cupcake…,” and Jake’s hands behind you, rubbing the small of your back, this was a taste of a life you never knew you wanted.

Now that you had this taste, you were ready to risk it all to keep this.

You fall asleep in Jake’s arms, as Quaritch bids him a ‘till next time,” and your soon to be mate is left wondering what that phrase entails.

Avatar taglist: @aerangi @jake-sullys-whore @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @brioffthegrid

[lordoflucky]

That Albert Harebrayne Analysis I said I was gonna do months ago

So I’ve been doing a lot of thinking on my very unexpected favorite Great Ace Attorney character, Albert Harebrayne. To which I think I’ve found why this character in particular has managed to worm his way into my Top 3 Ace Attorney Characters alongside fan favorites Sebastian Debeste Eustace Winner and Miles Edgeworth. That being, he’s an absolute masterclass in making a supporting character. (This is about 30% analysis of Albert and Barok’s dynamic, 45% analysis of Albert himself, and 25% a secret third thing if you want some expectations.)

Warning: This gets long, I’m talking nearly 5k words long (4.8k. I’m pedantic). For the sake of your dash I recommend opening this in separate tab.

Albert’s Narrative Purpose

If I had to guess at Albert’s primary purpose in the narrative it would be that he exists to support Barok’s arc. Through his presence we see a kinder side to Barok, making him both more sympathetic to the audience, and adding believability to his eventual redemption arc.

However, the exact way Albert does this, while also having his own arc entirely separate from his connection to Barok, is what really makes his character. Albert exists to contrast Barok down to the simplest detail- from character design, to mannerisms, to their core traits and ideals.

Starting at the most superficial, in his key art Albert is drawn with flatter shading and cartoonier proportions compared to Barok’s dramatic shading and more realistic proportions. Albert is made up almost entirely of warm tones and light colors: blond hair, bright white lab coat, pink vest, tan slacks. Barok is in turn drawn primarily with dark colors and cool tones, made up of blacks, greys, and navy. There is also bonus of his purple-ish, blue-ish, grey-ish hair being complimentary, or in other words opposite, to Albert’s yellow blond. From the onset, without knowing anything about Albert’s character or that he has any connection to Barok, it’s clear that the two are inversions of one another.

Moving onto the character himself, Albert has a very distinctive way of speaking. He stutters, repeats himself, and goes off on rambling tangents near constantly. Comparatively, Barok speaks much more precisely. His frequent use of ellipses imply that he’s pausing to choose his words carefully. When he does falter it’s used sparingly- primarily for drama, and occasionally for comedic effect.

This characterization, Albert as flighty and Barok as controlled, continues in their animations. Albert can hardly stay still, and nearly every one of his animations includes constant movement. Either more subtly such as in his angry animation where he occasionally vibrates with fury, or overtly such as in his desperate pleading and excited mad scientist animations. Even in his neutral animation there’s the visual gag of him constantly pushing up his glasses as they fall down after every sentence. All this movement is punctuated by a shuffling sound effect that plays every time he changes poses, presumably trying to draw as much attention to it as possible. While Barok is no stranger to dramatic animations, what crushing glass chalices in his hands and drop kicking the prosecutor’s bench, the majority of Barok’s animations are more subtle. Outside of the courtroom he primarily closes his eyes, crosses his arms, turns his head, opens his eyes, lifts his chin, uncrosses his arms- you get the picture. His animations are extremely contained. Even taking into account his more dramatic courtroom animations, they’re all done with the same nonchalance, slow and flowing. The text box disappears, the story itself is brought to a halt, while it waits for Barok to finish his animations. A harsh contrast to Albert often switching animations multiple times during a single sentence.

These animations are used accentuate their respective main avenues for comedy. Albert as comically expressive, and Barok as comically serious. Most of Albert’s comedy is derived from how he approaches nearly ever situation at the same maximum emotional state. He recounts accidentally forgetting to return spare change to a waiter with the same level of regretful anguish, as he responds to being accused of murder. He even goes as far to say that he deserves to be hanged for that same murder as retribution for... forgetting to return the spare change. He gets so caught up in his own delight at the mere notion that his hypothesis was correct that he gladly incriminates himself on the witness stand. Barok, conversely, typically keeps at the same cynical indifference throughout any given trial. He slowly and deliberately tosses a wine bottle into the gallery behind himself only to claim that his hand slipped, enters the courtroom with his cloak drawn up like Dracula, harbors bats in his own office, and he does all of this without a hint of irony. Both use the same joke of having their emotional reactions be disproportionate to the situation, but reach that result from opposite directions.

This tone often transfers outside of their comedic moments, with Albert’s most common state being high-strung and emotional, while Barok’s is disinterest and apathy, with anger as really the only emotion he openly expresses for the majority of the games. Of course, both break from these states occasionally in order to signal relevant tonal shifts. Moments before Albert confesses to murder he’s resolutely calm and expressionless, warning the audience of what’s to come. The rare moments of Barok showing genuine sincerity, such as his overt gratitude towards Ryunosuke upon Albert’s acquittal, are used to represent major turning points for his character. For both, these “Out of Character” moments further ground them as three-dimensional, while still adhering to Ace Attorney’s exaggerated style of characterization.

Finally, their core traits and ideals. I find the most vital part of understanding Albert is his overwhelming kindness and optimism. Albert fully believes that Asman shares his dream in developing Instantaneous Kinesis, and protects the project not just for his own ego, but because he believes it’s what Asman would have wanted. He clearly states the respect he holds for Drebber as a scientist even after everyone’s assertion that he’s little more than a con-artist; even after it’s established that Drebber planned to frame him from the start. When Ryunosuke implores Albert to trust him and accept his defense, Albert responds by not only empathizing with him as someone who also spent time studying abroad, but by stating he believes a person’s origin has no effect on their ability- a sentiment Ryunosuke has scarcely heard for all his time in London. And of course, there is his fervent belief that Barok is working towards his best interests, despite the doubt voiced by Ryunosuke and Susato, and Barok’s seemingly contradictory behavior.

Personally, I find there is one scene in particular, and it’s follow-up, that best showcases Albert’s kindness. It starts during an intermission in the Defendant’s Lobby, before Albert’s invention has been officially declared a fraud but after Ryunosuke’s arguments have started leaning in that direction. Albert starts by accusing Ryunosuke of undermining him and attempting to discredit his hypothesis. Ryunosuke argues he promised to fight for Albert’s innocence above all else. He reminds Albert that, regardless of the validity of his hypothesis, a man died as consequence- that is what matters. Albert pauses for a moment, taking time to register Ryunosuke’s words, before urgently apologizing for blaming his failures on Ryunosuke. I find this scene best exemplifies Albert’s kindness as it’s not that he is a perfect sweetheart of a person all the time, but rather in the moments when he does mess up- in this case taking out his stress and frustration on an innocent party- he owns up to it the moment he realizes what he’s doing. Not only that, but he follows through on his apology. During the second investigation segment, which takes place the same day, Ryunosuke attempts to apologize for not protecting his invention. Albert refuses the apology instantly, reiterating that it’s his own fault, and that Ryunosuke shoulders no blame.

All of this stands in direct opposition to Barok. There is of course his prejudice, often manifested as his racism towards Ryunosuke, Susato, and Natsume, which also crosses into classism taking into account his treatment of Gina during 1-5. Even outside of that, Barok is wholly defined by his pessimism and distrust of others- his primary character flaw.

Going through this point by point is meant to illustrate that for every trait that Albert embodies, from the most superficial to the most intrinsic parts of his character, the inverse can be found in Barok. Albert exists to humanize Barok, but it’s not as simple as “Barok is kind towards someone, which was a previously unseen side of him,” it is specifically who he is kind to. The fact that Barok sees this person in direct opposition to himself, most importantly in the ways that they approach the world, and declares that person to be laudable, gives hope that Barok has the ability to change for the better. Albert could not have accomplished his role nearly as well had he simply been “Barok’s friend.” By existing in opposition to Barok from a characterization stand point this strengthens his support of Barok’s arc, further establishes the themes of trust integral to Great Ace Attorney’s greater narrative, and allows Albert to be a fully developed character in his own right.

Albert’s Character Arc

After discussing how Albert supports Barok’s arc, now I find it the best time to dissect his own. In between the chaos of 2-3, which is already packed to the brim with plot set-ups, ramifications, and character moments, Albert manages to have his own arc entirely separate from his connection to Barok.

Albert’s arc is centered around the revelation that the dream he was clinging to was ultimately a lie. The people who he trusted were planning to betray him from the start. The moment that was meant to be his dream coming to fruition literally blows up in his face, and what scarce success he finds to hold onto is revealed to be little more than stage magic.

There are two primary factors that lead to Albert’s actions and reactions throughout the case.

Albert genuinely trusted Asman and respected Drebber. He continues to respect Drebber even after the truth is revealed.

Albert cannot personally accept that the dream he spent so much time working towards might’ve been a failure.

The first point I alluded to while discussing Albert’s ideals. Repeatedly throughout the first half of the case he shows great admiration for Asman- he equates Asman visiting his lab to read his a paper to a visit from an angel. He states repeatedly that he must protect the invention that they made together for Asman’s sake. As far as Albert is concerned, Asman genuinely believed in him, and wanted to work alongside him to make Instantaneous Kinesis a reality. He devotes himself entirely to repaying Asman for his generosity; Asman’s ulterior motives, unbeknownst to him.

As for Drebber, the first showcase of Albert’s respect for him comes from the second investigation segment. The previous courtroom segment ended with Ryunosuke declaring that it’s very likely that Asman and/or Drebber were attempting to frame Albert, and two separate members of the jury discoursing on Drebber’s status as a swindler. What follows is Ryunosuke asking Albert if he really had no idea that Drebber was “Just an illusionist”. Albert refutes this by stating that Drebber isn’t just an illusionist. He clearly has a brilliant scientific mind, Albert is certain of that after only one conversation. Ryunosuke makes a comment on Drebber's abilities, which could be called disparaging in only the most harsh interpretation, and Albert still feels the need to correct it. Giving due respect to a man he currently believes is attempting to frame him for murder, as Susato reminds him. And Albert is correct in his assessment of Drebber. In fact, Drebber’s intelligence is a key factor in the case, but Albert would be more than justified in being a bit unkind to Drebber, considering the situation. Yet, he refuses to.

This point, his trust for Asman and Drebber, influences Albert’s action’s somewhat, but the second is the ultimate driving factor. At the end of the first pair of trial segments, following the reveal of Drebber’s true nature, Albert reflects on the recent events. He freely admits it was his own ego and fear that drove him to try to protect the invention. During the turning point when Albert confesses to murder, he considers that punishment preferable to the alternative. Because the alternative, is that he failed.

One line in particular I want to draw attention to he says towards the end of his monologue:

“I never questioned anything. I, I didn't want to question it.”

I feel this line re-contextualizes many of his actions during the trial. He insists, against his own innocence, that the experiment was a success. It was not simply foolish ignorance that led him to defend his hypothesis beyond logic itself; it was instinctive denial- conscious or otherwise.

Now in most Ace Attorney games, Great Ace Attorney included, The Truth is near sacred. many character arcs are centered around the pursuit and acceptance of the truth, never hiding from its uglier sides. It’s better to know the truth than live a lie. Albert is no different. He spends the first half of the case in denial because the truth is too harrowing for him to accept, until he reaches a point where he is forced to confront and accept it for the sake of his own life. By all means, with this revelation, his arc is over. The next step is for him to move forward, always push on despite the hardships, and pursue the glorious truth above all else.

But this is not the end of Albert’s arc. You see, that scene never addresses the root of his insecurity. Why was Albert so opposed to accepting the truth? Why did he go as far as falsely admitting to murder, which at this point is thoroughly established to be punished by death, over accepting the much simpler fact that his hypothesis was flawed and his experiment was sabotaged? He says it himself during his monologue: “I knew that if it was found to be nothing more than a trick […] my whole life would be over!”

The root is that Albert entirely conflates his own person-hood and worth with his success as a scientist. If his hypothesis is a success, then that means he, as a person, is a success. If his hypothesis is a failure, that means he, as a person, is a failure.

This is built up throughout the entirety of the case. When Ryunosuke first introduces himself as a lawyer, Albert launches to ask if he’s here to defend his hypothesis. On the surface, it’s just a simple introductory gag. This is the audience’s first encounter with Albert aside from his appearance in the opening cutscene, and the first interaction with him as an actual character. His whimsically goofy theme kicks in, his glasses fall down to reveal his unintimidating face. How silly, the absent-minded scientist assumes the defense attorney is here to defend his hypothesis and not himself. It’s the obvious joke to make, and it quickly establishes exactly what archetype Albert is meant to embody. But then it keeps happening.

When he pleads with Ryunosuke to trust him, that he would never murder someone, he says: “Do you believe me? Do you believe in my hypothesis?” While berating himself for unfairly taking his frustrations out on Ryunosuke, he says “I'm a disaster! Not just as a scientist, but as a human being!” When he gives his insight on Barok’s behavior, he says: “He believed in me this morning, you know. Barok did. He believed in my hypothesis.”

Nearly every time Albert references himself a mention of his hypothesis and career is not far behind, and vice-versa. As far as he is concerned, believing in him is believing in his hypothesis. Believing in his hypothesis is believing in him. They are inseparable. The line about Barok comes in the investigation segment after Albert accepts his experiment was a failure proving that, despite accepting the truth, he hasn’t worked through the insecurity that made him so terrified in the first place. He has accepted that his experiment was a failure, but he still believes his person-hood is connected to the success of his hypothesis.

All this comes to a head at the end of the case. Drebber admits to his crimes, and takes his opportunity to rebuke the “Addle-brained mock scientists” who “Don’t recognise the fact that they don’t have talent” and “end up chasing impossible dreams.”

Albert then takes the stand to accept his acquittal. He goes on to echo Drebber’s words, calling himself a selfish and self-centered fool for “believing that [he] could do whatever [he] set [his] mind to, despite [his] lack of talent.”

Despite it being proven many times over that Drebber only wanted to use him, despite Drebber’s disdain being entirely fueled by bitter spite, and despite Ryunosuke proclaiming that Albert’s only “crime” was his passion for his hypothesis and that he was entirely undeserving of Drebber’s ire, Albert still takes Drebber’s words to heart. Even after his betrayal, Albert still holds Drebber’s opinion as a scientist in high regard. Albert’s opinion of himself was already left in tatters due to his association of his worth with his success, but hearing scathing critique from a fellow scientist that he holds personal respect for was the last push he needed.

Following this, Barok refutes both Albert’s and Drebber’s words. He reassures Albert that he is not at all to blame for the events that unfolded, and applauds Albert’s passion and dedication to always pursuing his dreams.

Ultimately, Albert’s arc is centered around his own internal conflict of accepting his failures, and divorcing those failures from his worth. Alongside that, he continues to act as a support character to Barok’s arc. By allowing Barok to be the one to step in, and pick Albert back up when he’s at his lowest the audience sees a near unprecedented level of kindness from Barok. Which, of course, supports his redemption.

A few more points I’d like to make: Aside from Barok’s involvement in the final step of Albert’s arc, the rest of it is entirely devoid of his presence. While their friendship and dynamic is an extremely important aspect of Albert's character, having his arc focus on his own personal struggles allows him to exist as a character outside of his relationship to Barok. This strengthens his personality as an individual person, which ironically strengthens his relationship with Barok.

Furthermore, while his arc is entirely separate from their dynamic, it still manages to continue the theme of Albert existing in contrast to Barok.

When Albert finds himself betrayed by those he believed he could trust, his instinct is to blame himself. He was too foolish to see the signs that his dream was a failure from the start, and he was the one to naively hold onto the hope that anyone could ever honestly believe in him. If he had just given up from the start none of this would have happened. In Barok’s own backstory he was similarly betrayed by someone that he trusted. Barok’s response was to lash out, to claw for revenge and someone to blame. He continued by isolating himself in his grief, growing more distrustful each day, and going as far as to treat anyone who barely resembled the man that betrayed him with equal resentment.

Albert’s response to betrayal was too lose trust in himself; Barok’s response to betrayal was to lose trust in those around him. With this taken into account, it becomes clear why Barok must be the one to reassure Albert of his innocence. However, he does not suggest that Albert should be bitter and vengeful in response to betrayal, but rather only that he should not lose trust in himself- finding a middle ground between their two extremes. This serves to highlight the character growth Barok has gone through up to this point.

This, all of this, is what I meant by Albert being a masterclass of a supporting character. Every individual facet of him ties back into that all-encompassing narrative goal of acting as support for Barok’s arc, while also existing as an individual character in his own right. Despite existing to support another character, his own identity is not lost in that goal.

Arguably, Albert would have been fine without his arc. He would have been fine if his entire character centered around his dynamic with Barok. Again, if his role is to be a supporting character he could have been decently serviceable as simply Barok’s old friend who got himself in a bad situation, and who acts as an optimistic voice insisting that Barok really does care about him deep down. This would be proven by Barok’s actions before, during, and after the trial, Barok would seem just as sympathetic since he would still be going out of his way to help another person, and the end result would be nearly the same, if not slightly less interesting. And that’s the crux of it, Albert is a more interesting character than he would have been if he was only “Barok’s friend”. He doesn’t need to be, but he is, and by putting that extra care and time into his character the relatively simple story beat of “Antagonistic character shows kindness towards another person helping to spur their redemption arc,” becomes something that gives much greater insight to both characters involved.

Before breaking down Albert’s character like this I had less appreciation for Barok. I still enjoyed him greatly, he was a low-A on a bad day, but I did not enjoy him as much as the other main cast. After ruminating on this as extensively as I have, my opinion of Barok has soared. Breaking down Albert’s character and role on a narrative level directly led to me liking Barok more, and if that’s not fulfilling his role as a supporting character I don’t know what is.

My Thoughts and a Conclusion

You can consider this work finished. I’ve said many words and made my overall point: Albert is a well constructed character on a technical level. He is tightly written, with exactly the amount of screen time he needs to accomplish everything his character is used to do, and he accomplishes it exceedingly well, in my opinion.

However, there’s one last point I haven’t covered. I opened this piece declaring that Albert is my overall second favorite Ace Attorney character. In a franchise spanning over two decades with mountains of characters that’s high praise, so why him? There are countless other characters in Great Ace Attorney 2 alone that are written just as well if not better, and have an even stronger connection to the overall plot and themes. There are many characters that I respect from a writing stand point, and yet they still don’t reach my top ten, twenty, thirty, beyond. I could go on for hours combing through line by line, word by word pointing why I like this bit, or how I interpret this interaction, and it will never reach the real reason as to why I enjoy Albert, or any character for that matter, as much as I do.

It’s not something I can write into an analytical essay with textual sources to support my point, because it’s not analytical. I like Albert as a character not for any of the reasons I covered in the 3.5k words above, but because his character emotionally resonated with me. I did not do this analysis and suddenly realize I liked his character. I adored his character, and how I show appreciation for the media I love is breaking it down bit by bit to uncover all the moving parts.

The message of Albert’s arc amounts to “Failure does not define your worth as a person.” and that “Even if you try your hardest and fail that was not effort or time wasted, because trying at all is respectable in of itself,” and this is a message that deeply resonates with me. The next section will require me to get vaguely personal, so to put it simply I am a perfectionist. This manifests itself in nearly every facet of my life, but to give a lighter and more relevant example: This essay itself. I mentioned nearly seven months ago that I was working on an Albert Harebrayne Character Analysis. I have not been working on this essay for seven months. Instead, those seven months I’ve spent procrastinating; coming up with any excuse I could to not write this. My grasp on the character is not good enough. My analysis will be surface-level and shallow. I’ll just be rambling on about something that only matters to me, and is an annoyance to everyone else. I finally worked up the nerve to open a word document and just start typing only after it became undeniably clear that my mind wouldn’t rest until this was made. It all stems from the fear that whatever I make will be less than perfect. That whatever I do won’t be done to the quality it deserves. There’s more I could say, but with that alone I’m sure you can piece together why the message that your failures do not impact your worth as a person is one that I connect to.

However, it goes even further than that. Albert is not the only character or story with a message of that vein in Ace Attorney. There is a second aspect at play, which are the assumptions I made in regards to Albert’s character throughout the case- Assumptions born from my own insecurities. From the start, I assumed he was going to be wholly a joke character, pure comedic relief. That’s not to say I disregarded him, not at all. Absent-minded professors and mad scientists are some of my favorite archetypes, so at the very least I assumed I would enjoy his presence. I did not expect him to become my second favorite Ace Attorney character that is for certain.

My prediction for the direction the narrative would take Albert all came from that central idea: He was ultimately a joke. Obviously teleportation is impossible, and it seems like we’ll have to prove that in order to prove his innocence. Albert, meanwhile, is extremely invested in his experiment being declared a success. Alright, so that means we will inevitably prove the failures of his hypothesis, he’ll have a tragically comedic (emphasis on comedic) breakdown as is tradition, and that will be the end of his relevance. Point and laugh, and move on. Judging by the many words I’ve written previously we both know things did not go as I predicted.

I do think Albert’s arc is meant to subvert the audience’s expectations to some degree. He starts as a primarily comedic character. His introduction to the audience is a cutscene in which he’s voiced and animated like a Looney Tunes character. Most of the self-deprecation he voices is treated like just another quirk. With that said, I do not think my personal level of surprise was necessarily intended. It was arguably obliviousness on my part how long it took me to realize that Albert was being treated seriously, or at the very least, as a sympathetic character.

It was not the moment when Albert describes how the presentation at the exhibition was the finest moment of his career, and the resulting terror he felt at the prospect of it being ripped away- which is treated as purely tragic. It was not the moment when the culprit, the villain, claims that Albert is a fool and a fraud too talent-less to ever achieve anything. I’m honestly a bit ashamed to admit, but it was the last possible moment I could have realized: The exact second that Barok says that he is Laudable not Laughable. More bluntly, the exact second a character and the story itself looked me in the eye and said that he was not a joke. In retrospect, it became clear that the story was building towards that from the start.

Everyone, the storyteller themselves and each individual audience member, comes to a work of fiction with their own biases, with those biases effecting how they experience the story and their own individual interpretations. Due to my own insecurities I unconsciously projected my own fears onto the story, and expected those fears to be validated. And then they weren’t. Those fears were not only not validated, but outright rebuked by the story itself. Not only was I wrong in my belief- belief based on subconscious insecurity- that failure deserved derision, but the story states it deserves the opposite. Kindness. Sympathy.

That is what connected me to Albert’s character to the level of some major characters. An extremely personal set of circumstances leading the story to resonate with me in a way entirely unique. This is not a statement on the quality of Albert’s character, but rather a statement of quality on Ace Attorney as a franchise for putting so much effort and care into every character, no matter how minor.

I am certain that not every person holds Albert in as high regard as I do; As I am certain that they have their own personal favorites that they connect with to a similar degree; As I am certain that to me those favorites may be totally unremarkable. There is a beauty in that, I think.

To anyone who read this in its entirety, I hope you enjoyed it. Anyway, closing statement: Albert Harebrayne sure is one of the characters of all time, and instead of writing five thousand words about a random side character I managed to get too emotionally attached to, I could have simply summarized all my feelings with this image:

[thechekhov]

you mentioned in recent tags about a horror comic you drew- i understand not wanting to link publicly to it to avoid creating MORE misinterpretations, but i really like your storytelling and now i’m curious?? so if you could, that’d be great! no pressure either way!

(i’m sending this off anon so you have the choice to respond to it privately anyways) (love your art thanks) (and the dungeon meshi reacts)

Thanks for the kind message! And it's not a secret or anything, it's straight up this post:

I used language comparing humans and other animals as two separate things (for the sake of drawing the narrative conclusions I needed to, in order to make the concept understood in only a few pages), like this:

But because of this simplified language, people drew their OWN wild conclusions about me as a person.

For example, this guy on twitter:

I never actually said humans WEREN'T animals, never said humans were somehow 'above' biology...I was simply putting them into a separate category capable of a specific set of skills for the sake of the comparison I made in the last couple of pages as the punchline.

But they decided that it must "clearly" mean I believe X, Y and Z.

This has happened MORE than enough times!

Writing is difficult, and writing for varied audiences with different dialects, different levels of reading ability, and different attention spans is hard! Sometimes, people don't want to sit through 2 pages of 'well humans are animals but due to a specific evolutionary niche we fill our ability to use language and calculate mathematical equations to the degree that we do is really unique--'

Now, mind you... I STILL got grief for trying to be soft-boiled in my delivery. People (who don't have a linguistics degree) IMMEDIATELY also messaged me to tell me that chimps CAN learn language - and haven't I seen that one video with the gorilla, the dolphin, etc?

And that's it's own can of worms. (No, other animals cannot learn language the way humans can. Yes, they can communicate in complex ways. No, language is a very specific human thing as far as leading scientists are concerned, at least based on current data. Yes, I went to University for this. I have a degree. Please just trust me.)

It happens, I'm not actively mad about it... Humans tend to take whatever we read and run with it.

But we make this mistake often! I know I also make this mistake. We come conclusions based on scarce evidence! We jump to the worst case scenario! We presume that we know better than that person what they believe, based on minimal interaction with them.

It's yet another thing that's unique to humans thanks to... wait for it... language!

It's the price we pay for having memes.

[abarbaricyalp]

For the intimacy prompts: "a hand written note", Sam/Bucky

Wowee is this so super duper late! Very sorry. But unfortunately, this prompt reminded me of a fic I started all the way back in 2022 for Valentine's Day and I just could not let it go this time. AO3 Link

In 1950, several years after the war had ended and just as the excitement and tragedy surrounding the short-lived career of Captain America was dying down, a collection of war time letters from the Captain’s second-in-command, James “Bucky” Barnes was published.

In 2026, the only edition with new letters was published

Selected Texts from: The Barnes Letters : Revised and Expanded 11th Edition, 2026

[Letter to Sam Wilson (36 years old, former Air Force Pararescue, current VA therapist, new best friend of Steve Rogers) left in an apartment while Wilson was running the trash out, 2015]

Birdbrain,

Don’t get so irritated with this cat and mouse game that you give up and just opt for pouncing over me and eating me. I dunno, maybe I shoulda gone with the early bird and the worm metaphor, but whatever. Maybe I’ll slow down for you in the next place. Spend a little bit of time at some farmer’s market or something. Use an alias that you might know about, depending on how much you read.

Take it easier, birdy.

-B

The first Barnes letter of the 21st century paints a stark contrast to the paragon found in the original text of The Barnes Letters. This book does not attempt to psychoanalyze Barnes or the events of his life, as the original did not. The 11th edition of The Barnes Letters merely wishes to build upon the corpus of the original and to bring a conclusion to the questions brought up in subsequent editions.

The text of these letters have been transcribed exactly as found, but the spirit of them would be dampened slightly if it were not brought up that the letters were found on everything from sticky notes to napkins to sheets of lined paper to sketchpad pages with doodles on the other side or around the words–clean, crumbled, torn, creased. These letters, perhaps moreso than the original, were cherished and protected and clearly read several times over.

The Wakanda Letters

[Collection of letters left for Bucky Barnes, by Sam Wilson, in the Wakandan Palace’s medical facility, 2016-2018]

Hey, Tin-Can,

You’ve gotta wake up soon ‘cause you still owe me a car.

Sam

Robocop,

I’m tired of being a fugitive for your broody ass. You better have a whole slate of apologies lined up for when I see you next ‘else I’m gonna put you right back under. I haven’t showered with seriously hot water in ages. (Barring the one I just got in the palace. Wait until you wake up and see the water pressure here. It’s gonna blow your poor little 40s mind.)

You know, Steve really wants us to get along. Gotta say, I do see the appeal. You’re so quiet and a great listener. I always know where to find you.

He just read that over my shoulder and called me a jerk for you. I figure you’d use stronger language, but hey.

Oh, hey, I heard there was some crazy fight here a few weeks ago. Did you see anything you wanna gossip about?

Alright, alright, I’ll stop. Heading out somewhere new tomorrow morning. Always some new fight, new monster, new injustice, right?

Well, good dreams or whatever.

Sam

B, you’ve gotta try a drink at this bar. (Bringing the napkin in won’t get a discount, I asked) It’s called…get this, get this, get this, it’s called a Bucky Bear Brawl. Bucky Bear. Gonna lose my mind. -S

Barnes,

If I bleed all over this paper, you won’t use it to create an even better super soldier serum, right? (Cause, let’s be honest, my DNA is a catch for mad scientists. Looks, brains, body, personality. I’ve got it all.)

I don’t get why you didn’t give up the chase after DC. We coulda done all of this shit, avoided all of this shit, if you’d just come back then. You knew I was there. You kept me in the corner of your eye or your rearview or your scope, I assume, so why not just stop running?

I’m so tired of this. I want to go home. I want to see my friends and my family and sleep in a real bed. And you gave all that shit up for…what? They still found a way to ruin your life. Steve’s life. My life.

How did I end up giving up everything for you and the star spangled man, huh? Seventeen infuriating hours in a car with you and suddenly that makes you worth something to me?

I always try to do what’s right, help people who need it. At great personal cost, lost people important to me. I’ve never done this much for one person, though. And I don’t even know you. I have your files. I’ve read history books. Hell, I even know the fruits and fish you like. But I gave up my family and my reputation for this. I have a bullet in my shoulder for this.

Who are you to drive me to that, huh? You’re not even awake. You’re not out here with us while we do this for you. This is bullshit.

Sam

PS, I lied the other day. I don’t prefer you being quiet. I want you to argue with me. I want you to hear what I’m saying. I want you to come back. Fuck, that’s all I’ve ever wanted. I want you so far gone that I never think about you again or I want you to come back. But you keep just existing right in my periphery. A shadow I can’t shake. A stray that’s followed me all the way to my door stoop. Fuck.

Bucky,

Sorry.

Sam

B,

I’ve thrown away seven other sheets trying to find something to say, but I suppose it doesn’t really matter what I write down now. You’ll be able to hear it straight from my pretty mouth soon enough.

Sorry we won’t be around to see you through all of it. Princess’s orders. Besides, there’s a new bad guy out there fucking something up. And, surprise surprise, Ross hasn’t sent anyone after them, so duh-da da da-dah, here we come, to the rescue.

I’ll see you soon, though, alright.

Not that, like, you care about when I’ll see you. Ah, shit, I’m gonna throw this one away too.

And Sam had kept his promise, showing up a week afterwards with a sharp quip on his lips but a tellingly earnest patience as Bucky had walked him and Steve around the spaces that had become his life. He’d even left a note on Bucky’s bed wishing him good dreams again.

So it only made sense that Bucky slipped a note into his go-bag.

[2018]

Tweety,

You musta been real bored without me around to fuck shit up if you had this much time to write all these letters. Did keep me busy for a while though. Maybe next time you could be more verbose and flowery, give me something to really sink a literary analysis into.

I’m gonna keep this one short, though, ‘cause you’re nosey and pay attention to everything I do. I ain’t gonna throw you around no more, so you can unclench. Heard you argue with S1 and S2 about whether or not I was ready to go out again.

I’m not.

I know it’s selfish when all of you are still fighting the fight, but I’m so tired. And I’m unstable on my feet. I need some time to get the ground under me again. But if you tell Steve I agree with him, I’ll burn your letters without looking at them.

You could stay, y’know. You don’t have to keep fighting. I could use the company. Talking is supposed to help rebuild neurons or something, right? Maybe I’m just making that up.

Anyway, hope you find this at an inopportune time.

-Tin Can

[Left on Barnes’s pillow in Wakanda, 2018]

B,

Sorry the world doesn’t wait for what we want. Sorry the world’s ending. Maybe you can show me all your goats again when all of this is said and done. Maybe it’ll be a little quieter for once.

-S

Read the rest on AO3

[miscfandomgifimagines]

Okay so I am currently sick af and this is purely comfort writing for myself. I kinda wrote it for myself but in a way that you can insert yourself or your oc, whatever you wish. Also posting this on my fandom blog vs my main because my roommate has called me out for my blue person hyper fixation lmao. Human reader x Lyle Wainfleet, Lyle being a caretaker.

* Lyle isn’t too fond of scientists. They tend to be boring and super serious and he can hardly understand most of them. But there were 2 scientists in particular that were assigned to the recon squad that he actually enjoyed. Two young kids in their mid twenties from Earth who got the chance of a lifetime to get shipped out to space to work with avatars.

* Your partner/ coworker was low key a genius at understanding Na’vi biology on a totally different level than everyone else. When offered the job he demanded that he be able to take his lifelong best friend with to act as his second hand man and that’s how you got in the picture. You were smart, but everyone could tell you weren’t really a scientist. You had loads of skills from welding, to navigating the stars, first aid training, and being an a pretty big nerd on Pandora flora and fauna. So you had your uses to the team.

* From day one you were labeled as sarcastic and a smart ass which didn’t bother you too much. In fact you were kind of happy to inflict yourself on others, especially the recoms. You and Lyle butted heads from the first minute you met with insults and burns flying both ways.

* He’ll never forget the time he asked you a question and you tried to make him figure it out himself. It wasn’t that he was stupid, but he wasn’t exactly book smart either. Eventually when he got his answer he was quite proud of himself. You on the other hand gave him a snort and shot another comment his way.

* “I’m really surprised! I didn’t think you’d actually get it. I just wanted to see how many brain cells you were capable of using at once.” *Ouch*

* Once you got to know each other a bit better the comments and roasting turned humorous and mildly affectionate. Lyle and you would take turns coming up with burns for each other and eventually the recom team as well.

* “When he wears his sunglasses he looks like a little league coach.” Lyle snorts and gives a little nod.

* “Wainfleet you are so god damn bald I can see my reflection off the back of your head.” You snickered. “Oh really? I didn’t think you could see that high Short stack.” Lyle shot back.

* Your laid back attitude and nonchalantness about wrangling an entire team of marines was kind of impressive. Lyle remembers the first time you got on Colonel’s temper and you were so offended when Quaritch hissed at you that you sprayed him with the water bottle you were holding while gardening.

* “Colonel, you are a grown ass man and I know you have better manners than that.” Quaritch started to growl and was about ready to fire back some insults when you held up the bottle again towards his face. You raised a defying eyebrow at him and said in the most stern voice you could possible manage, “Don’t make me get the hose.”

* Lyle couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore and the pair of you turned to look at him. Colonel scowled and you had such a mischievous sparkle in your eyes. “Short stack you got some balls.” Was all Lyle managed to say before Quaritch was angrily stalking towards him.

* While there weren’t a lot of humans that the recoms interacted with on a weekly or even monthly basis, the scientists still had to get supplies from the main bases. Lyle would accompany you to the commissary shop and watch in curiosity to see what you would pick. Mainly shower supplies, some new clothes to replace your tattered ones, some impulse snacks that get shipped up to generate cash for the base. Okay, mostly snacks like sour gummy worms and chips.

* You even snuck away for a brief minute and came back with some other goods, which upon smelling turned out to be edibles. He just shook his head and laughed while trying not to draw attention. You smiled and winked at him, “I gotta keep myself sane somehow!”

* After about a week and a half of returning from base you started to complain about not feeling good. You were restless at night and didn’t get much sleep so you were extra crabby. For the most part you were alright but when Quaritch pushed you out of bed ridiculously early to make breakfast for everyone you let him have it. There was yelling and a fair bit of cursing about how men are so helpless they can’t even cook for themselves for one freaking morning. You looked everyone straight in the eye and in a hoarse voice you told everyone you were going back to bed.

* The colonel was miffed to say the least, Lyle had never seen him so angry at you before and he grabbed the Colonels arm and said “I’ll handle this.”

* Due to part of the mission objective was to “become Na’vi” the RDA custom built a shack and transported it out to the middle of the forest, a few miles away from main base. The shack everyone lived in was one level for the most part with a sectioned off sleeping quarters for the crew. There was also high ceilings to accommodate the recoms height. There was also a kitchen and what you could call a living area of sorts. A few chairs here and there but that was about it.

* For the two humans, there was a second floor added- almost like a horseshoe shaped loft. There were two bedrooms on opposite sides that had curtains for privacy. There was also a middle living/ work area that was were you and your colleague had set up your equipment and offices. There was a open section leading into the loft that Avatars were able to stand up in, which came about chest level for them. This was where many of the recoms physicals and vitals took place since the humans could reach the avatar faces without the recoms having to crouch down.

* You had your curtains drawn shut and he almost hesitated. Lyle knocked his knuckles into the floor and called out to you. “What’s up Short stack?” You didn’t respond but he could hear you rustling in your bed. His ears flicked at the nose and he waited for your response.

* “I don’t feel good, I think I’m getting sick. I have had a headache for the past 2 days and nothing has helped. I also have a sore throat. All I want to do is sleep.” Lyle felt sympathy for you and reached out one long arm to pull the curtain back. You were sitting up, propped against your pillows with the blanket wrapped around you. Lyle could see the redness in your eyes and assumed you had cried a little bit either out of frustration or pain.

* “Is there anything I can do?” Lyle offered and you took a deep breath in. “Well I’d love to get some more sleep honestly. But I think picking up some cold medicine from base would be a good idea.” You huffed angrily, “I can’t believe I go to another freaking planet, I’m hardly around other humans, and I *still* got sick! This sucks.”

* Lyle nods understandingly. “I’ll get you your medicine, so you can go back to sleep. Just try not to piss the Colonel off anymore okay? And make sure you drink some water too.” You nodded but rolled your eyes a bit. “Okay dad.”

* When Lyle came back to the group in the kitchen he cleared his throat and addressed Quaritch. “Sir she’s sick. I think it would be a good idea to let her rest and pick up some medication before it gets any worse. So it doesn’t spread to the other human.” Quaritch huffs but doesn’t say anything other than “Alright.”

* Lyle goes to the commissary like the two of you usually did. The person behind the counter asks what he can do for him. “I need cold medicine.” The man behind the counter laughs. “Good luck finding that around here. I haven’t seen a new shipment of that in a while. Come back in a week and we may have some. In the meantime here is some cough drops and electrolyte replenishers.”

* Lyle’s tail flicked in disappointment. He knew that timing was important and in order to make this better you needed treatment sooner rather than later. So he looked down at the man with sharp eyes and said in his best threatening voice “I’ll be back next week. You better save 2 bottles of whatever you get for me or I will not be happy.” The man’s heart rate spiked and he nodded frantically.

* Lyle came back home with the meager supplies he could get and called to you from the kitchen. You came down wrapped in a big sweater and pulled his tail gently as you walked past. “Did you get some?” He shook his head and sighed. “They’re all out, maybe next week. I promise I’ll go as soon as the shipment comes in. In the meantime drink one of these.” He places a bottle down in front of you, which looks ridiculously small compared to his hand. You drink most of it down and place the cold bottle to your forehead in hopes of persuading your headache to go away.

* You look up at him and see a small frown forming on the corners of his lips. “I’m sorry.” “It’s not your fault, you did what you could. I appreciate it dude.”

* Over the next few days your symptoms end up becoming worse. Now with the sore throat you are congested, coughing, and running a fever. Due to safety concerns your friend is temporarily set up in the recom quarters to prevent contamination. So while you were suffering from a cold you were also isolated too.

* What made it a little better was that your colleague was certain your sickness couldn’t be passed to the recoms so you could still hang out with Lyle. Lyle was hanging out by the railing each day, doing what he could to cheer you up. He brought you some cool rocks he found outside, told you a few funny stories about the shenanigans he got up to in the marines, and of course brought you snacks and water.

* One morning your fever broke 102 and Lyle was seriously freaking out. Unfortunately all he could do was give you acetaminophen and some cold rags to hopefully lower your temp. At this point even the Colonel was worried. They both looked at you on your bed and then at each other. “How many more days until the medicine gets here?” Quaritch asks, worry dancing in his voice. “Day and a half.” The Colonel puts his hand on Lyle’s shoulder and looks at him in the eye.

* “We just got word from base that Jake Sully has been sighted outside of the mountains. I’m getting the team together to go find him. I feel bad about leaving her in this state, but I’m going to put my trust in you that you can take care of her by yourself. We are leaving in an hour.” Lyle’s heart sinks a bit. He wants so badly to get revenge on Sully too but right now his biggest worry is you. Lyle nods and Colonel starts packing up supplies.

* The team leaves and it causes enough noise to wake you up. You head down the stairs slowly, your head bobbing up and down on each step. “Hey Short stack, you hungry?” You look up at Lyle, his hand comes down to rest on your forehead. You put your small hand on top of his and nod your head gently.

* Lyle gets to work heating up some soup and makes you each a sandwich. You eat in silence and when you finish he puts another drink in front of you. Without saying anything you open the bottle and take a few chugs.

* “So,” Lyle’s tail flicks to one side and then another, “What do you want to do now that everyone is gone?” A small smile on his lips, hoping it’ll spread to yours. You put the bottle down and think for a minute. “We could watch some movies or something.” “Okay just no chick flicks.”

* Lyle gets the two of you set up in the den with blankets and pillows and tries to make a comfy spot for you to lay down. You grab your tablet and settle into the pile, leaning against his side for support. You choose something to watch from a list, something animated. He watches it with you somewhat, getting engrossed in the plot. He feels you get heavier against his side and glances down at your now sleeping body. He pick you up gently and sets you in the curve of his arm in a more comfortable position for your back.

* He’s surprised at just how warm your fever is making you. His skin feels like ice compared to yours. He places one hand on your forehead again and you mumble in your sleep a bit. He turns on his side and peers at your sleeping figure.

* Lyle’s ears perk up when he hears your friend come in. “Hey so good news! The medicine is in early, I’m on my way to go get it now. You hold down the fort while I’m gone.” Lyle nods and turns his attention back to the sleeping girl in his arms. For the past few days you had been a shell of who you usually are. No quippy comebacks, no sarcastic interruptions, not even a joke for the past week. He was worried about you. After everything he had been through in his human and avatar life he had not had a relationship like this with anyone else.

* He loved you- platonically of course. He didn’t realize how much he missed the roasting and cursing and well, the normal you. He saw you as his closest friend and he hadn’t had one in so long. Without thinking the words start to fall out of his mouth.

* “Come on Short stack, hurry up and get better so you can kick my ass again.” He lets out a small laugh, lowering his lips to the top of your head. He places a small kiss to your temple. You curl into his body as he pulls away. “I miss you. Please.” He whispers. He moves a pillow under his head and relaxed his body. With the background noise of your wheezy breathing and the show you picked Lyle eventually fell asleep himself.

* He woke up when your friend came back with the medicine and he gently woke you up. Your eyes fluttered open and you reached out for his face, still groggy. He scoops you up in his arms and sits you on his lap so you can drink the medicine. You shudder as it hits your tongue, the nasty taste shaking the sleep from you. You finish it all and within a few hours your fever is gone and so is most of your cough.

* You were still in the pillow nest Lyle had made for the two of you and you turn towards him with a smile. “I think I was hallucinating or dreaming or something.” “Oh yeah?” Lyle smiles, happy you’re doing better. “Yeah I could have sworn you kissed me.” You let out a laugh and cover your mouth as you begin to cough.

* “Yeah Short stack, you were definitely dreaming.” His ears flutter for a brief second after being called out. He was so sure you were asleep when he did it. Whatever, at least you were getting better.

[atopvisenyashill]

god that person is soooo full of brain worms or something because like even as a dany lover, i see everything you’re saying about her as great observations based on the text. She’s young, she’s traumatized, of course when she gets over to westeros it’s not going to end as well as she hopes. The only thing I can pray for is that George writes her end better than D&D did because it was atrocious how her most trusted advisors went from being her biggest supporters to acting like “no actually her grief from losing her best friend and two of her dragons who were as much like children to her as anything could be means she’s just as mad as her father”, especially when Tyrion never knew Aerys!! I would love to see her descent into madness, see how all of her losses stack and utterly break her, but the way those two switched up real quick was honestly disgusting to me

YEAH like I think the biggest issue with the show is that she’s surrounded by characters who are pale imitations of their book selves or characters she’s just NOT supposed to be interacting with like that. There’s no doubt in my mind that Tyrion is going to flip sides & it’s probably going to spell her doom, but the Tyrion in the books is in a vastly different, much darker place currently than the Tyrion she met in the show and that’s going impact their dynamic MASSIVELY. Varys is NOT some monarchial marxist aksjdj he’s a mad scientist trying to hand make the perfect king bc he’s seen the destruction caused by bad ones and he thinks he’s Above It All when in reality his traumas as a slave inform his bad behavior just as surely as they inform Melisandre’s. The show doesn’t want to engage with all of that though so Tyrion & Varys just kind of nonsensically flip on her for *checks notes* acting the exact same way she’s been acting for years when they never had a problem with her stupid behavior BEFORE s8.

And i go back and forth on what I think is going to happen but ultimately YEAH i do think george is going to write an ending that is much more fitting and also, despite what the targ nation people insist upon, TRAGIC than what we got. It’s going to hit harder, it’s going to be thematically interesting, it’s not going to be george going for the ~cool~ or wow shocking plot line the way those two idiots did!

But definitely the thing that hit my rage button on that one is this idea that like first of all, dany isn’t somehow mentally ill or that the presence of mental illness is a weakness or moral failing. I don’t know how you even exist on terros without developing something deeply unhinged in your brain, and dany meanwhile has a conga line of trauma and some ancient blood magic and incest cooking in HERS, i don’t think i’m saying anything out of pocket by saying “yeah i think she displays some patterns of behavior that are worrying when you essentially have a pet nuke.” but two it’s also like - ALL of these people are insane!!!! lannister, stark, tully, martell, baratheon, targaryen, greyjoy, on and on, they’ve all lived through at minimum one but some of them several wars that completely upended their lives and killed a lot of their family, and then got thrown into stressful situations that require a much more delicate hand than any of them are capable of. that’s the whole series!!! it’s just a bunch of insane people going “yeah exactly girl let’s do it” and “it” is usually war!!!