#I've never done a challenge so hopefully this works!

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Pin

written for @steddiemicrofic

Prompt: 'pin' | wc: 388 | rated: T | cw: sexual innuendo

Pin the tail on the donkey is, in theory, an obvious game. Wear a blind fold and tack a plastic tail onto a picture of a donkey. Like Henderson said: Easy.

But he’s still siding with Steve. It just seems… wrong.

“Henderson,” Eddie interjects their arguing, throwing his arm around Steve’s shoulders, “I think our darling Steve here has a point.”

He looks at the man, nose brushing against Steve’s cheek, triggering a flush across his jawline. Steve turns and their noses touch. His eyes blow wide, flicking down to Eddie’s mouth. Steve’s tongue darts out to wet his lips and oh god is Steve leaning in?

Before Eddie can get carried away– in front of Robin and the Party and Chief fucking Hopper– he forces himself to turn back to Dustin, whose mouth is hanging open, flopping around a word that looks like darling.

“Pin the tail on the donkey is one thing, Henderson. Pin the bloody nail bat on the hellbeast is a bit poignant.”

“See,” Steve shouts. “Eds agrees and he didn’t even have to fight the stupid demodogs!”

“It’s Will’s birthday, Steve,” Dustin screeches, “and he drew this himself so–”

“Those things almost ate me, Dustin!”

“YOU WANTED THEM TO EAT YOU STEVE!”

Eddie glances over at the game in question, hung up outside the Byers' shed. The juxtaposition of Will’s blue and yellow birthday decorations as a backdrop for the hyper realistic monster drawing isn’t lost on anyone. The nail bats may have been overkill, even for him.

“Alright boys break it up let’s go,” Eddie claps his hands, startling them to attention. “Stevie, you’re with me. Dusty, indulge in some cake with the other tiny tots”

Dustin guffaws but before he can respond, Eddie grabs Steve’s hand, towing him inside the empty house, away from the commotion.

“We’ll make our returns when they conclude their little hellspawn game.”

“Well then,” Steve asks, “what game will we play while we wait?” Tone heavy, his lips curve into a predatory smile. He squeezes their joined hands, crowding into Eddie’s space.

Eddie steps back automatically, but Steve only follows until he’s backed against the wall. He swallows, and Steve clocks the movement, pushing in even closer.

“Because, darling” Steve purrs, “I can think of a few things in here I’d like to pin you to.”

[puckszone]

my musings on how to leave longer & more regular comments on fics:

We all know comments are good - readers have probably heard authors on tumblr talk about how valuable comments are for ages, and I hope most of the authors reading this have felt that validating joy first hand.

But we also all have lives, and only so much energy in a given day. Maybe you have worries about leaving a comment that's too "weird", or "awkward". Maybe you LOVE a fic, but have no idea how to put those strong emotions into words. Maybe you leave short comments, but wish you felt comfortable crafting the paragraph-long detailed comments that some readers gift to their favorite fics.

If you've ever thought about trying to comment more often, or trying to leave longer comments, then here are some ramblings of mine that will (hopefully!) bring comment-inspiration your way.

A quick table of contents:

Lower the mental stakes

How do I comment on porn?!?!?!?

My approach to paragraph-long commenting

My call to action: challenge yourself to go one step further

Lower the mental stakes:

When I first joined a writing discord, I was genuinely blown away at the amount of support and love the HRPF community contains. I was also blown away at the amount of people that were actually reading my works and messaging about them!! It is still one of the coolest feelings ever.

In my mind, this is an example of a "lower stakes" ways to talk about fics: messaging a friend, or a group chat, or a discord server.

It takes a lot less energy for me to type a rambling text about how much I love the fic I'm currently reading vs. typing a cohesive, well-thought out comment for the author themselves.

One of those two options is much more intimidating!

I want so badly to tell the author how much I love their fic, but I'll never find the time to write all the things they deserve to hear!! So the tab sits open on my phone for months, and the comment never gets written.

If you relate to this: try to lower the "mental stakes" of writing your comment. Remember: this is a fun thing!! Fic is fun!! And I promise, you don't have to write the "perfect" comment to make an author's day.

A potential solution: treat the comment box a bit more like a message to your group chat. Not in a rude way - let's stay polite to the writers in our community, and recognize when unsolicited feedback isn't wanted.

But instead of forcing yourself to always have the "perfect" comment, think of something lighter. Think of what you would text to a friend if you were going to send them a link to the fic: maybe "dude this fic is so funny you need to read it", OR "this is INSANELY good", OR "i've been reading this all morning you need to check it out right now".

Then write that!

Comment: "this fic is so funny oh my god. love it!"

Comment: "this is INSANELY good"

Comment: "SCREAMING. I LOVE THIS"

Comment: "i haven't been able to put this done all morning! sooooo good!"

Comment: "i read the first chapter of this fic and instantly knew i had to send it to all my friends. i love this so much!!!"

Also, this might just be personal preference but: a discord message can get lost to time. AO3 is an archive, and comments there are much easier to look back on!!

So send that discord message to the author in a server you're in - they're going to appreciate it so much!! But consider copy-pasting that as a comment in AO3 as well, no matter how short it might be. It means a lot!!

How do I comment on porn?!?!?!?

PWP fics are known to have a large number of hits, with less kudos and even less comments.

Listen. I get it.

Especially in a fandom like HRPF, where many fics are user-locked, it can be intimidating to comment with no chance to hide behind anonymity.

But remember this: anybody who might "see your username" has also clicked into that very same fic and gone alllllll the way to the end. We're all in this together!!! I promise!!

Maybe the actual logistics are difficult for you - how do I leave a comment on an 8k porn-no-plot fic?? how do I explain that I love this fic without making the author uncomfortable?? - so in that case, let me give a few brief ideas for you to work off of.

Some words I like to use a lot: dirty, nasty, HOTTTT, sexy, intimate, vivid.

If you're feeling especially blindsided by the Everything of it all: i like to throw in a good "stupidly hot". "my brain is melting out of my ears". "soooooo dirty nasty hot". "WHEWWWW this is making me feel insane".

Don't overthink it!!!! Speak your truth!!!

And, final point: don't be afraid to highlight specific favorite parts, like you would with any other fic! Say it with your chest! If you liked the frottage, then say "the thigh riding was sooooo stupidly hot". I promise, the author put it in because they also thought the same thing!!!! It's going to make their day (and maybe result in more fics with that same favorite part of yours).

My approach to paragraph-long commenting:

I just want to reiterate: there is no right or wrong way to write a comment. But here's the general breakdown of how I think about leaving more detailed comments, if you want some ideas.

I copy snippets from the fic that call out to me as I read

I go into my clipboard to paste them all into the comment box

I write 1-2 sentences about WHY i copied down that specific snippet

Sometimes, it might be hard to know exactly why you were so affected by a given line. Here's some things you might especially appreciate in a fic:

Characterization: maybe the dialogue felt especially realistic. maybe the character's decisions made a lot of sense to you. maybe the way two characters interact is just exactly how you picture it. write that down in one sentence!! done!

Prose/writing style: maybe the line was a really gorgeous metaphor, piece of dialogue, etc. copy and paste that shit into your comment + add some "!!!"s, or maybe a single sentence like "this is so so gorgeous" or "INSANE metaphor" or "beautiful prose i'm chewing on glass"

The plot: "I have no idea where this is going next, and I can't wait to find out" / "OH MY GOD THE CLIFFHANGER"

The emotions you felt while reading it: this one's an easy one I promise! "the way you wrote [CHARACTER]'s pain hurt sooooo good" / "this is making me feel ill" / "i actually gasped out loud on the bus" / "i'm so nervous for the next chapter" / "i'm SO excited by where this fic is going" / "i teared up reading this"

A long comment will come organically & very easily, even if you only have 2 copy-pasted snippets!! And the author gets to hear very specific feedback about exactly what you're enjoying - that's SO unbelievably rewarding to hear.

So, my personal call to action: challenge yourself to go one step further!

If you don't usually leave comments: try leaving one or two one-line comments this week. Throw in a quick "i love this!!" next to that kudos!

If you usually leave one-line comments: try leaving a couple sentences! describe one specific thing you liked about the fic, or one specific emotion you had.

If you often leave comments on the fics of people you know: try going outside your comfort zone and commenting on a stranger's fic. you got this!

Push yourself one step further, whatever that means for you! It's such a beautiful thing, to be able to read and love and discuss fic in a shared community, and it's worth the effort!

If you've read my ramblings the whole way through: thank you!!!! This was mainly an outlet for me to put all my thoughts into real words, and I sort of can't believe you read all the way through. <3

I welcome any and all additions to this post!!!! The more we talk about commenting, and the more we comment, the more this community grows - and that's a positive thing for all of us, readers and writers alike.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

(astarion / acebard!tav)

Astarion never received any gifts before - and if he did, he forgot - but he would have loved for the first giver to be his lover, although they seemed pretty occupied with Gale and an object that suspiciously looked like a present.

(not native in english. so sorry if the wording is clusmy in some parts, i wan't sure how to write this xD)

A/N: I made a few adjustments, but I think I know what you're getting at. Hopefully it still works. Also, this turned out way more than five sentences because I have no self control.

Astarion x AsexualBard!Tav Masterlist

Word Count: 921

Astarion couldn't remember the last time he received a gift. The idea of being gifted anything was down right laughable. Nobody truly gave anything without expecting something in return. Some way, some how a price would be paid. He didn't need that hanging over his head, along with everything else. So why did seeing you hand Gale a wrapped parcel sting so much?

He watched as the wizard pulled apart the paper, his brows furrowed with curiosity clearing into a bright smile.

"Oh this is perfect!" he exclaimed. "How did you get it?"

"Do you really want to know?" you challenged, grinning yourself.

Gale opened his mouth as if to say something, but stopped himself with a guilty look. "Perhaps it's best I say thank you and leave it at that."

"What do you know, intelligent and wise," you teased. "Just make sure to pace yourself. Don't read it all in one night."

"I've made a point never to make promises I can't keep."

You laughed, giving Gale a light squeeze on the arm before turning in Astarion's direction.

He schooled his features into a casual expression, trying and failing to ignore the burning in his chest. Admittedly the fond look in your eyes did quell the fires, at least a little.

"Successful day?" he asked.

"More or less," you said, taking a seat beside him. "We've got a map. No way to read it just yet, but it's a start."

Astarion humphed, nodding in Gale's direction. "And that?"

"Just some petty thief," you explained. "Gale expressed an interest in it last time we were in town. Couldn't for the life of me explain why, but the bookseller refused to sell. Terrible way to run a business if you ask me."

This was normally when he would laugh or at least grant you an approving smile. Truly, he did love your casual relationship thievery, but it only made him more frustrated. He'd almost preferred you'd paid for it. If you had, he could dismiss the whole thing as a simple errand and not something more.

You frowned slightly, clearly taking notice of his mood.

"Alright, what's got you pouting?"

"I'm not pouting," he said, indignantly. "I'm brooding. There's a difference."

"My apologizes," you said, dryly. "What's got you brooding, oh mysterious one?"

He narrowed his eyes at you, his lips pressing into a hard line.

"I'm just surprised you would go so out of your way for a book. It's not as if you'd be able to understand it anyway."

A flash of hurt struck across your face, but you pushed it down in a way that made him sick to his stomach. What in the hells was wrong with him?

"Well, it's a good thing it wasn't for me then," you said, stiffly. "Now are you done being childish or are you actually going to tell me what's going on?"

Astarion tried to maintain eye contact in some vain attempt to hold onto his pride, but it was no use. He ducked his head down, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"I...I don't see why you think Gale is worth the effort is all," he admitted. "It's just a stupid book. It's not as if it's useful to the rest of us. So...why bother?"

He chanced a glance in your direction. You just stared at him, your lips slightly parted as you took him in.

"Astarion, are you jealous?" you finally asked.

"No," he said, a little too quickly, even to his ears.

"So what else would you call being upset over the fact I stole something specifically for Gale and not you?"

"I'm not upset," Astarion objected. "I'm just..."

"Brooding?"

He very much wanted to say something devastating in that moment, that would shut you up and let him walk away from this with some kind of dignity; but, he couldn't think of a damned thing.

"Fine, I'm jealous," he spat. "Happy?"

"Not really."

He closed his eyes, letting out a short sigh. He deserved that.

"I'm sorry," he said, softly. "You're right, it's...petty and I shouldn't have said that to you. Gods know if it were anyone else I would have torn their throat out."

He looked to you then, hoping you would see the honest truth in his words.

"I wish I was better at this. I know you care about me and I don't need you to commit robbery to prove it. Although, I wouldn't be opposed to it."

To his relief, a small crack of a smile turned at the corner of your mouth.

"I'll keep that in mind," you said, some of the teasing coming back into your voice.

"Does that mean I'm forgiven?" he asked.

"Only if you mean it."

He didn't have an answer for that. At least, not right away.

With deliberate care, he slipped his hand into yours, raising it to his lips.

He watched as your eyes widened in surprise, only to soften as he pressed a gentle kiss to your fingers. His eyes never strayed from yours. He needed you to see him too.

"I mean it," he said.

A true smile came to your lips, as you nodded. "Then you are forgiven."

He returned your smile, feeling a lightness in his chest only you seemed to grant him.

Perhaps he was wrong in his assessment. He had been given many gifts since meeting you. You practically showered him with them every single day, and damn him for taking any of them for granted.

[handdrawnverathin]

Hi. So, uh... it's been a while. And after all this time, I think it's time to be honest with myself and admit that this animatic is probably never going to be finished. I started it when I'd only watched a couple POVs of Third Life and it really shows in the designs. Some of them aren't bad - I still like how I drew Tango - but enough of them have details wrong or just weird vibes that continuing to draw them is kinda dissatisfying. That being said, I put a lot of work into it and didn't want to let it just die without saying anything, so here's a collection of GIFs from the few scenes I managed to get edited.

For the record, I am still on the Hermitcraft/Life Series brainrot train and I have some drawings that I've been working on that I genuinely like. So hopefully those will be done soon! Just as soon as I finish that one project that I started eight years ago. But it's getting there! I swear!

Also: for anyone interested, I've included the original frame-by-frame plan below the cut

SONG: Willow Tree March, The Paper Kites

Intro

Feet swinging over sandstone cliff face (0:00 - 0:05)

Lower half of Grian’s face visible, whistling (0:05 - 0:12)

The cool bit

Fade to front face view of Grian, looking up slightly (0:12 - 0:16)

Real quick zoom out to all players standing in a row looking dramatic (0:16 - 0:28)

Title card fades in as overlay (0:20 - 0:28)

Player introductions

(0:28 - 0:30)

(0:30 - 0:32)

(0:32 - 0:34)

(0:34 - 0:36)

Peaceful times

Grian walking through a forest, early morning. First frame is a footstep, then a side view of him looking around (0:36 - 0:44)

Flower Husbands meeting, afternoon. First frame is Scott peaking into the hole from outside, then Jimmy looking up at him sheepishly (0:44 - 0:52)

Renchanting looking up at the sky, sunset. First frame is a hand raised to block the sun, then a rear-view shot of them from the waist up (0:52 - 1:00)

Phantom shelter, night. First frame is a wide view of the group either hiding or fending off phantoms, then a close up of a few of them laughing with each other(1:00 - 1:08)

FIRST DEATH

Wide shot of Scar burning the tree (1:08 - 1:12)

Close-up of Grian’s face as he looks to the side. Creeper visible in the reflection of his eyes. (1:12 - 1:16)

Scar doing some smooth talking. A wisp of smoke fades in behind him.(1:16 - 1:20)

Close up of Scar’s face turning around, eyes widening (1:20 - 1:22)

Yellow heart (1:22 - 1:26)

The promise

Wide shot of Monopoly Mountain, cut to close-up of Grian swearing loyalty with a hand over his heart (1:26 - 1:34)

Close-up of Grian’s face, mostly the eyes, looking a little unhappy with the whole situation (1:34 - 1:42)

Tensions rising

Skizz looks at an enderman: over-the-shoulder shot of him looking back, then a close up on his eyes widening (1:42 - 1:50)

Cleo threatening Pizza - animated? Initial/final poses plus two in-betweens (1:50 - 1:58)

Tango’s lava game: first a close up of his smiling face, then a wide shot with his arms outstretched in front of the challenge (1:58 - 2:06)

Scar threatening Ren for the enchanter: first an over-the-shoulder shot of Scar, then one of Ren (2:06 - 2:14)

Uh-oh

Wide shot of ceremony (2:14 - 2:18)

Ren, kneeling, waist down and cloak on (2:18 - 2:22)

Low-angle shot of Martyn looking very uncomfortable. Winces a bit, axe raised and…  (2:22 - 2:28)

Swings down. We get a flash of Ren's face, grinning, before fading out. The red eyes linger just a bit longer. (2:28 - 2:32)

O_o

Flower wall burns down (2:32 - 2:40)

Rear view wide shot in silhouette

Front view, sad and also a little horrified

Desert battle (2:40 - 2:48)

Profile view of Grian with a slightly manic smile on his face as explosions go off. The camera is pretty close to him, so we can’t actually see the explosions, but add in some effects and it’ll get the point across

Siege of Dogwarts (2:48 - 2:56)

Aerial attack using slowfall arrows

Ground combat feat. Joel and dogs

 Bdubs kills Impulse, Scar kills Bdubs (2:56 - 3:04)

Interlude

Scar (right) kneeling in the water before Grian (left). We can see Scar from about chest down and only the lower half of Grian’s legs (3:04 - 3:12)

Low-angle shot of Grian looking down at Scar holding a sword. We can see Scar’s head and maybe a bit of his back depending on camera angles. (3:12 - 3:20)

Fade to the Tree in a dark void, glowing as if by firelight. Very slow pan out. Fade to a wider view before the light is extinguished, leaving us in darkness.  (3:20 - 3:28)

Ghosties (dark gray background, white outlines)

Jimmy/Cleo/Skizz (3:28 - 3:32)

Joel/Scott/Etho (3:32 - 3:36)

Tango/Ren/Martyn (3:36 - 3:40)

Impulse/BigB/Bdubs (3:40 - 3:44)

They want blood (survivors haunted by ghosts)

Grian, with chestplate and sword, looking very much like he’d rather be anywhere else(3:44 - 3:48)

Scar, also not having a good time, sword and shield but no chestplate (3:48 - 3:52)

Facing each other, no weapons or armor. Scar of left, Grian on right (3:52 - 3:56)

Close up side view of Grian’s face: scared, then steeling himself (eyes closed) then shouting as he runs in (3:58 - 4:02)

The girls are fighting! ;A;

(4:02 - 4:10)

(4:10 - 4:18)

(4:18 - 4:26)

We have a winner

Full body behind shot of Grian standing at the edge of the cliff before falling (4:26 - 4:36)

[pikahlua]

Control your heart, but not like how you think

I've tried so many ways to write this idea out before. Hopefully I get it right this time.

There's a widely-accepted fandom interpretation going around a lot lately that I think needs to be challenged. Perhaps I won't be able to express it in its complete version because I don't subscribe to it, but I'll try my best to approximate it and hopefully most of you will know what I'm generally talking about.

It seems like a lot of people believe "control your heart" is a plot line that refers to Izuku's inability to contain his love for Katsuki, that "control your heart" is advice from a well-intentioned but ultimately incorrect adult who wants Izuku to suppress his feelings for Katsuki, and that Izuku is hiding his feelings but will eventually let go and embrace his love for Katsuki in an explosion of anger. Or something. Admittedly this interpretation varies a lot depending on who's talking about it, and I cannot hope to encompass every interpretation of it with one paragraph. But it always boils down to some version of "control your heart is about Izuku repressing his feelings for Katsuki."

Let's discuss.

Table of Contents I. Why I want to challenge this aka false dichotomies II. What Banjou said III. Katsuki's rage IV. Tomura doesn't control his heart V. The AFO connection

I. Why I want to challenge this aka false dichotomies

I want to challenge this interpretation of "control your heart," but my main goal here is not to shoot down BKDKs. I want this to be understood more than anything: the goal here is to help BakuDekus.

You see, fandom and shipping arguments--they're very susceptible to false dichotomies. I believe this is the source of a LOT of certain shipping interpretations that seem to go so far in one direction they fall off the rails.

I'll give you an example. I vividly remember how an anti-BKDK once went for chapter 1 in which Izuku rescues Katsuki. They started with the argument "Izuku didn't save Katsuki because he loves him, he would have saved anyone else in that situation."

This is a false dichotomy. "Izuku loves Katsuki" and "Izuku would have saved anyone else in that situation" are NOT mutually exclusive. It's very possible for both statements to be true (and I would argue they both ARE true). However, in the heat of an argument, it's very easy to accept the framing of these statements as mutually exclusive without stopping to think. You can try to argue against the premise. You can try to argue "no, Izuku saved Katsuki BECAUSE he loves Katsuki, and he wouldn't have done the same for anyone else," but you have to ignore or distort so many canon elements to get there. That makes it very easy for your opponent to point and laugh about how your interpretations are so wrong that they have to bend the story to make them work.

But there's another option: reject the framing. If you accept the framing, you're allowing the other person to dictate the discussion.

What does this look like? Let the evidence lead you to the conclusion and not the other way around. And that's a difficult thing to do. I would never say I'm perfect at it either. But if you are convinced Izuku loves Katsuki, then whatever evidence lies in canon shouldn't scare you. In some way, it doesn't MATTER what happens in canon--in that you're invested in their dynamic together and you'll ship them regardless, because there's ALWAYS an interpretation that will support the ship. But you can read the ship into whatever the canon provides. If someone says "Izuku would save anyone, so the reason he saves Katsuki is not because he loves him," one potential response would be "Izuku would save anyone, and also he saves Katsuki because he loves him." Don't let others control how you interpret the story with their words.

To take this back to "control your heart," there may or may not have been a shipping argument that spawned this--I have no idea. But there doesn't have to be. The point is to challenge the framing of the assumption, because there may still be another shipping interpretation if the original assumption doesn't hold up.

"Control your heart is bad advice that causes Izuku to repress his love for Katsuki and he will end up exploding" is one way to frame this.

But consider this new framing: "Control your heart is about Izuku using his anger/love as a source of strength so long as he doesn't let it control him--just like Katsuki does."

II. What Banjou said

The "control your heart" line comes from Banjou in chapter 213.

But I think people really gloss over the part that comes before:

This isn't about repression. Banjou says, "It's okay to get mad. That rage can be the source." Control here is not about repression at all.

This is about whether or not the rage controls Izuku instead. This is about Izuku going berserk and losing his senses. I've discussed the phrasing in Japanese before:

The phrase in Japanese is "kokoro wo sei suru" (心を制する). The word in question, kokoro, does not have a direct translation into English. It is often translated as "heart," "mind," or "spirit." The meaning of sei suru is "to control," "to command," "to get the better of."

The notion that "control your heart" means "don't let your rage get the better of you" is supported by chapter 367.

Tomura reveals that the reason he wanted to leave Izuku the "presents" of his comrades beaten and Katsuki dead was to anger him--which would cause Izuku to fight poorly. Mirio talking Izuku down after this further supports that "control your heart" is meant to be a good thing, something Izuku should do.

We also see a precursor to this in All Might vs AFO in Kamino (you know, the first one). AFO was determined for years to find something to "steal a bit" of his heart away--and he came up with using Nana Shimura's grandson.

Tomura himself stokes All Might's anger by attacking his students at the USJ.

But each time All Might gets angry, he keeps control and saves the day.

All Might is able to be effective despite his anger--or perhaps even because of it. Izuku needs to be able to do the same.

III. Katsuki's rage

In a weird way, the poster child for using anger as a source of strength is Katsuki Bakugou.

I say "in a weird way" because Katsuki's anger is often used as a front for something else. He hides behind anger. But at the same time, since he seems to be angry constantly, he surprises everyone with how much control he has over himself...

...to the point where Tomura even misjudges Katsuki's veil of anger at the sports festival to be resentment towards society.

And we know a big part of the dynamic between Izuku and Katsuki is about emulation.

We've just had a grand battle between Katsuki and AFO in which Katsuki achieved his strength by emulating Izuku--his battle analysis, his tolerance and willingness to endure pain, his use of his own pain as a weapon, etc.

So what if "control your heart" is the corollary to what Katsuki just went through? What if Izuku's "control your heart" is about him learning to use anger to win in the way Katsuki always does?

IV. Tomura doesn't control his heart

If Izuku does need to "control his heart" to be like Katsuki, this provides an opportunity for a moment in Izuku vs Tomura where Izuku can acknowledge Katsuki's role in Izuku's growth. This will depend on Tomura acting as a foil.

I start with the assumption "control your heart" means “if I want to save the people I love, I can’t let anger in the moment control me. I have to use my anger, which comes from my love, to reach the bigger goal.” In this case, Izuku has to control his heart long enough to get what he wants (to save Tomura), and he may have to go even further by applying this ability to someone else who doesn’t control their heart (Tomura).

I do think Tomura can represent a person who is not in control of his heart--which is why he lashes out and destroys everything. He gives in to his instincts to destroy. He loves destruction. And he represses the child inside him who has to explode out when someone like Mirio says he doesn't have any friends. If there's any character who represses his true desires, it has to be Tomura Shigaraki. He denies the idea that he's human, that he's saveable, that there's a crying child inside him--things Izuku asserts because he has seen the truth of them. So Izuku learning to control his heart may be what allows him to save Tomura, and if so, he can give some credit for that to Katsuki (and to All Might as well).

V. The AFO connection

I think one of the major details people discuss surrounding "control your heart" is this notion that Izuku lied about what triggered Black Whip in chapter 217.

"Any clue what set it off? Maybe something's triggering it." "I dunno..."

There's this assumption by the fandom that Izuku is lying because he should know that Black Whip going berserk was triggered by Izuku's anger at Monoma insulting Katsuki. Honestly, I think this is a misreading of the above scene. I don't blame anyone for the misreading because the scene is written in a confusing manner, but I think this page is talking about something else.

Katsuki isn't asking "What caused Black Whip to go berserk?" (answer: Izuku's emotions). He's asking "What caused Black Whip to become accessible?" In other words, why is One For All evolving in this way now? Why didn't All Might have access to these quirks when he had One For All? Why didn't you, Izuku, have access to these quirks until now?

To which all Izuku can say is, "they [the vestiges] just told me the time was right."

If you think about it, it doesn't make sense that Izuku's emotions triggered the "unlocking" of Black Whip and Izuku's sudden access to all these new quirks. If all that was necessary was for Izuku to have a surge of emotion and the desire to "catch" something to unlock Black Whip, he should have unlocked it back at summer camp when Compress kidnapped Katsuki or when Katsuki was about to disappear through Kurogiri's portal.

So in the above page, we're really meant to hone in on Katsuki's suggestion: "Yeah, something to do with All For One..."

There's evidence to support All For One is connected to One For All's evolution. In chapter 209, right before Izuku's team's match in the joint training exercise (where Black Whip first appears), we "randomly" get a cut to All For One in prison:

There are plenty of hints scattered about that this all has something to do with AFO. Remember, Izuku has a dream where Yoichi spoke to him the night before the Joint Training Arc begins--and the dream included a bit of AFO's backstory. It's very possible this was the true "unlocking." I would argue the best hint we have about what's happening with OFA is AFO's line of "I hear my little brother's voice!"

...because it sounds like the AFO-OFA resonance from chapter 369.

Putting all these pieces together, I would like to share with you my current theory about "control your heart." You don't have to subscribe to this idea, but this is where I personally am at right now.

I think the fact Black Whip went out of control in the Joint Training Arc reveals this evolution is about the resonance between OFA and AFO (the QUIRKS, not the people) that we’re seeing in the story right now. Katsuki’s role in this is that he’s the trigger for Izuku’s anger, which didn’t unlock the quirk factors but allowed them to go berserk in the moment. The idea of "control your heart" most likely means “anger is good, but don’t let your anger control you, you should be the one in control.” And Shigaraki understands this because he tries to provoke Izuku’s anger to defeat him. Izuku has to keep his own anger from interfering with his heart’s desire to save Shigaraki, and Katsuki is horrified that he’s a trigger for Izuku in this way (which is why he freaks out when Izuku attacks Tomura in the Paranormal Liberation War, and why he tells Izuku "stop trying to win this on your own" after he gets stabbed saving Izuku). This informs Katsuki's desire to "no longer stand in Izuku's way," because Izuku can only be triggered when Katsuki isn't strong enough to keep himself from being exploited. Izuku was triggered by Katsuki's death, but he managed to CONTROL his anger, not suppress it. He's still angry, he's just channeling it to achieve his goal of saving Tomura. And it's likely this point could come up in Izuku's attempt to save Tomura as Tomura is someone not in great control of his heart. And in the same way Izuku was an example for Katsuki to emulate so that he could use his pain and analysis as a weapon to defeat AFO, Izuku can use Katsuki's example to emulate "controlling his heart" aka controlling his rage to be his power in battle.

For your consideration.

[superlunar-eclipse]

🌑 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━ ACROSS THE COUNTRY

SUMMARY ➤ Dean and Sam, concerned about their missing father, approach their estranged elder sister Y/N, an FBI agent, for help. Despite initial resistance due to past grievances and her current job, Y/N eventually agrees to join them in their search, setting the stage for a journey filled with potential challenges and dangers.

WARNINGS ➤ injury’s, injured Y/N, stabbed wound (to the shoulder), small shard of glass on Y/N’s face and the back of their head, and slight arguing.

CHARACTERS ➤ Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Y/N Winchester, mentions of John Winchester, and Adam William (added character)

WORD COUNT ➤ 1,180 words

OTHER ➤ Y/N is a FBI agent, small mention of Y/N being 32 years old, set in season 1, episode 1.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ➤ first fanfic! hopefully dean and sam don’t act too OOC, but lmk if they do!

"Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam took a deep breath before responding, "So, he's working one of his usual overtime shifts on a 'Miller Time'. It's nothing to worry about. He's bound to stumble back in sooner or later."

Dean glanced down at the cold, hard ground, allowing his eyes to linger there for a moment before looking back up at Sam. His voice was full of concern as he said, "Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days."

Sam’s expression remained stoic, giving away nothing of the worry that was slowly starting to creep in. Jess, who had been quietly observing the exchange, glanced up at him.

"Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."

"I mean, come on. You can't just break into my place in the middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you," Sam said, his voice echoing in the silence of the night as he followed Dean down the stairs.

"You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I'm not just asking you to hit the road with me. I need you to help me find him." He looked back at Sam, his eyes pleading for understanding.

"I- I don’t understand, why couldn’t you have called Y/N? Isn’t she an FBI agent or something like that?" Sam questioned, his hand reaching out to grab Dean’s shoulder in an attempt to halt his progress.

Dean sighed loudly, a sound that echoed throughout the quiet night. He bounced on the balls of his feet, a nervous habit he had whenever he was troubled. "Well I… kinda don’t know where she is…" he admitted shamefully.

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, a clear sign of his confusion. "What do you mean you ‘don’t know where she is’?"

Dean pursed his lips and rubbed his hands together, his gaze dropping to the ground. "Well I don’t know her exact location but I know she’s somewhere in Washington DC or something like that!"

Sam scoffed in disbelief and shook his head. "That’s all the way across the country."

"Well did you want this to go quicker?" Dean shot back defensively.

Sam simply rolled his eyes at Dean.

"Look, are you coming with me or not?" Dean asked, his patience clearly running thin.

"I’m not." Sam said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Why not?" Dean questioned, his frustration clear.

"I swore I was done hunting. For good."

"Come on. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t all bad."

Dean starts heading down the stairs once again, with Sam quickly on his trail.

"You know, in almost three years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing," Dean tried to reason, his voice softening.

Sam looks away and sighs, then looks back.

"All right. I'll go. I'll help you find the both of them."

Y/N, a 32 year old FBI agent, sat in the back of the ambulance as the woman cleaned up her many cuts. Her shoulder had been stabbed by the unsub and her head was smashed into a sheet of glass.

"Alright, you're done." The woman finished cleaning her cuts, placing a bandage on her forehead and applying gauze tape to her wound.

Y/N smiled at the woman and hopped off the ambulance truck.

"Y/N!" someone shouted from the distance. She turned to see her great friend Adam, who was the first one to welcome her to the FBI.

She smiled softly as he gave her a comforting hug, "Ow, my shoulder." Her nose scrunched up in pain.

"Sorry," the corners of his mouth turned up as he let go of her.

Other agents of the FBI walked up to her, thanking her for her bravery. "Thank you for saving that girl's life."

"No problem." She gave them a comforting smile.

The agents walked away to discuss matters with other departments.

Y/N and Adam talked about the case for a little while, before Adam turned his attention to something behind her.

"Hey, do you know those people over there?" He asked.

She turned around to look at the people Adam was pointing at. She tilted her head to the side, squinting slightly as she tried to recognize them.

Why did they look so familiar?

Her face paled when she realized who they were.

"Uhm, yea- yeah I do, I’ll be right back," she stuttered, patting his shoulder reassuringly before she walked away.

"What are you guys doing here and how in the hell did you guys find me?" Y/N whispered-yelled at the two boys, her eyes wide with surprise.

"We need your help," Dean replied simply.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and put her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, "Oh, so all of a sudden you both need me after what, three years of not talking to me?"

Dean, with a dramatic flair that was all too typical of him, let out an exaggerated sigh. "Listen-" he began, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.

But she cut him off, her frustration palpable. "Dean, please, I really don’t have time for this," she said, waving a hand dismissively.

Sam, practically silent until now, took a step forward. His eyes critically scanned over her face and body, noting the signs of recent distress. "What happened to your shoulder?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

In response, she lifted a brow and shot him a sarcastic look. "Take a guess, Sam. I’m in the FBI," she said dryly.

He rolled his eyes at her retort. Typical Y/N, he thought, not for the first time.

Dean, who had been silent during their exchange, finally spoke. "Dad’s been missing for a few days, and we… we need you," he stated, his eyes narrowed and serious.

Her reaction was almost immediate. Her jaw tightened, her eyes darkened, her whole demeanor turned defensive. "And why would I want to find him?" she shot back, her voice icy.

He faltered, at a loss for words. He turned away, his gaze landing aimlessly on the nearby crime site.

Now it was Sam’s turn to speak up. He stepped forward, his eyes pleading. "Y/N, please, we really need you right now," he implored, giving her a puppy-dog look. It was a tactic he used to use all the time when he was younger to get what he wanted.

She looked away from him, her lips pursed, her face screwed up in thought. After a long pause, she finally voiced her question. "How- how long is this going to take?"

Dean was the one to answer. "Four days."

She sighed out loud, a wearied sound that echoed in the silence. "You do realize I have a real job, right?" she asked, a note of exasperation in her voice.

Dean rolled his eyes, a retort already forming on his lips. But before he could speak, Y/N interrupted him.

"Fine, I’ll go with you two," she said, her voice resigned.

Dean smiled lightly, relief flooding his features. "Thank you, Y/N."

And so, they walked together to Dean's car, unaware of the challenges and dangers that lay ahead of them.

[floralcyanidee]

ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴘs, ᴍʏ ʟɪᴘs, ᴀᴘᴏᴄᴀʟʏᴘsᴇ - ᴄɪʟʟɪᴀɴ ᴍᴜʀᴘʜʏ

Young!Cillian Murphy x AFAB!Reader (NSFW)

A night over at your best friend, Cillian's, leads to something more than friendship but something less than romance. Will you ever tell him how you feel, or will you always just be friends with benefits?

warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, cock warming, friends with benefits, friends to lovers, dirty talk, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, mentions of choking, love confessions

word count: 4409

author’s note: I'm shadowbanned on my main account everyone please clap (not for nsfw, I was flagged for spam yay) so I'll be posting on this shiny new blog, ao3, and wattpad for the time being. (those are both linked on my masterpost) hopefully I'll be unbanned soon because I've had my main tumblr for a decade and it has 2.5k followers on it and I'll fr cry my eyes out if I can't get unbanned!!! anyway please enjoy this!! I wrote a good chunk of this while at work this week. the horny really unleashes in the second part haha. please leave feedback if you enjoy! <3

PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG. BUT ALSO, DO NOT UNFOLLOW MY MAIN BLOG!

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Cillian’s lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath hitting your face. His eyelashes almost touch your cheeks, and his nose is beside yours, barely brushing against it. 

“I want you so bad,” Cillian whispers, his hands finding your hips.

You have been friends since the 90s when Cillian first arrived in Hollywood, stumbling upon you at a local bar where you worked. Ever since, you’ve both been the best of friends. But tonight, that’s being challenged. The lights in Cillian’s place are dimmed, candles are lit, and wine is flowing through the two of you. Having a bit to drink in a comfortable setting isn’t out of the norm, but for some reason, tensions were high tonight. You could almost cut it with a knife. Everything about him is more mesmerizing tonight- his eyes, his freckles, the way he smiles. You needed him, and apparently, he needed you too. 

“Then have me,” you mutter against Cillian’s lips.

He chuckles humorlessly, shaking his head slightly, “I don’t want to ruin us.”

“You won’t,” you look down at his lips- they’re so close to yours that you can feel them move whenever he speaks.

“Promise?”

“I promise,” you breathe, grabbing hold of Cillian’s face as he finally puts his mouth on yours.

The kiss immediately becomes hungry, your teeth nearly clashing together as Cillian slips his tongue around yours. He’s gripping your hips fiercely, and his sideburns press pleasantly into your palms as you hold his head steady. Cillian pulls you onto his lap from your sitting position on the couch next to him, seating you firmly on his thighs. Your fingers find his hair, tugging it slightly as a small whimper vibrates in Cillian’s throat. The sound spurs you on, and you take over the kiss, dominating his tongue with yours. You explore his mouth and suck on his tongue harshly, pulling away from the embrace to catch your breath.

“Fuck,” Cillian curses, leaning his forehead against yours, “You’re good at this.”

You scoff, putting both your hands on his cheeks as you trace your thumb along his sharp cheekbones, “And to think you would’ve never known.”

“Not necessarily,” Cillian looks you in the eyes, “I would’ve gotten you one way or another.”

“Then why have you waited so long, then? Hmm?” you ask.

“I value our friendship,” Cillian admits.

“I do, too, Cill. But god, if I had known you were so good at kissing, I would’ve done it ages ago,” you smirk, running your finger across his bottom lip.

His eyes follow your movements before they flick up to yours, darkening, “I’m not just good at that.”

His words shoot straight to your lower belly, warmth spreading through you, “Is that right?”

“Mhmm,” Cillian pulls you closer to his chest, your core settling right on his.

“Show me.”

Cillian attacks your lips again, this time biting down on your lower lip and rolling it between his teeth. You watch his face as he does it, his icy eyes becoming a darker shade of blue. His hand moves from your hip to your hair, his fingers sliding through your locks before they tighten, pulling your head backward to expose your neck. Cillian leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck, licking a stripe up the side before he bites at the skin, leaving a small bruise to form below your jaw. You squirm slightly at the feeling of his teeth pressing into your skin, dangerously close to breaking its surface. Cillian then kisses your collarbones, stopping when he reaches the neck of your shirt, well, his shirt. You always took from his wardrobe, whether it was a beanie, t-shirt, or hoodie that he forgot he had. He slides his hand from your hip to underneath the shirt, pressing his palm to your feverish skin and pushing it up slowly until he reaches your breast. 

“No bra?” Cillian asks, surprised.

“I never wear a bra when I’m over here,” you admit, “I’m surprised you’ve never noticed.”

“I’m glad I never noticed, or else I’d be underneath your shirt constantly,” Cillian pulls his hand from your hair to move it under the shirt along with the other.

“Doesn’t sound too bad to me,” you giggle, but it’s cut off by a quiet moan when Cillian grasps your breasts.

Cillian brushes his thumbs over your nipples, circling the buds as they harden under his touch. You hum, letting your head fall back at the sensation. Cillian pushes the shirt up and over your chest, and you help him pull it all the way off, tossing it somewhere in the living room. Immediately, Cillian latches onto one of your nipples, toying with the other one with his fingers. Electricity shoots to your still-clothed core, and you know that Cillian can feel you beginning to throb through your thin shorts. His playing with your breasts could get you off alone; his touch is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s sometimes sensual and soft and rough and firm when needed. Cillian grazes his teeth over the sensitive bud, pulling it toward him as you let out a yelp. You involuntarily bare down on his lap and feel him growing harder underneath you. He lands a slap to your breast, and you gasp, hands going to grip his biceps to ground yourself. 

“I can feel you getting excited,” Cillian teases, raising his hips a little to let all your weight sit on him momentarily.

“What are you gonna do about it, then?” you stifle a moan at his bulge pressing into your clit harshly.

Cillian pushes you off his lap and onto the couch, where he spreads your legs and yanks your shorts down your thighs, discarding them wherever the shirt also previously went. He pulls your calves onto his shoulders, laying on his chest between your thighs. His breath hits your dampened underwear, sending goosebumps across your skin. You bite your lip as Cillian plays with the edges of your underwear right against where you need him most. He toys with the fabric, letting his fingers barely touch you underneath. 

“I’ve waited so long for this,” Cillian confesses, his intense eyes flickering up to your face.

You feel your cheeks burn, “Me too.”

Cillian smiles his typical beautiful smile, teeth and all, as he pulls your underwear down your legs painfully slow, “I’ve always imagined how wet you’d get just from me teasing you.”

You bite back a whimper as he removes your underwear from your legs, letting them fall to the floor. 

“You’d get soaked from me playing with your pussy, rubbing your clit slowly, and eating you out until you cry,” Cillian lets his filthy words fall from his lips as you shiver from them, wanting to close your legs subconsciously.

But they were perched on Cillian’s shoulders, and he was about to go in for the kill. He kneads your thigh before pushing it to the side, letting it drape off the edge of the couch and opening you up further to him. Cillian’s fingers brush against your hardening clit like it’s the most delicate thing in the world, making you tremble as you grunt from the sensual feeling.

“Please,” you sigh, your hips jerking up when Cillian pulls his hand away.

“Please, what?”

“Touch me, Cill. God, I need you to touch me.”

Cillian strokes your entrance with his index finger, gathering your wetness before dragging it up to your clit. He circles the bundle of nerves slowly, making you whine above him. 

“So wet already,” Cillian moans, “You’re so beautiful.”

You throw your head back against the arm of the couch when Cillian finally replaces his finger with the tip of his tongue, going around and around the sensitive bud, never coming directly in contact with it. He changes his mind about that and starts to lap at your clit, flicking his tongue over it as his fingers travel back to your now-dripping entrance. Cillian hums in satisfaction at the feeling of your arousal seeping out of you at his expense. He flattens his tongue and licks a fat stripe up your slit before swirling his tongue around your clit, his tongue still flat and giving your entire bundle of nerves attention. Cillian probes you with a single finger, pushing it in as you moan his name. He pumps it in and out of you, curling it against your g spot with every thrust. He adds a second finger, and the sound of your wetness grows louder, mixing with your breathy moans and Cillian’s pants. 

“Say my name again,” Cillian bites his lip, watching as his soaked fingers move in and out of you.

“Cillian,” you whine, moving your hips along with his fingers.

“That’s right, fuck yourself on my fingers, darling,” he says, adding a third finger in you.

To say you‘re a mess is an understatement. You need Cillian inside you, as your walls are clenching around his fingers with desperation. You grab his shirt, “Fuck me, please.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Cillian smirks, lifting his shirt off his lean body before standing up to tug his pants and underwear down and off his legs. 

Cillian teases your clit with his leaking head before lining himself up with you. He looks at you with an unsure expression, and you nod in response to the unspoken question. He slowly pushes himself into you, your warmth already fluttering around him. Cillian guides himself all the way to his hilt, letting out a throaty groan when he feels his entire length surrounded by your velvety walls. His hands run up and down your abdomen, stopping when he palms over your breasts. They’re still sensitive from the previous activity and your growing arousal, causing you to wriggle when Cillian’s fingers deftly pinch at both your nipples as he slowly pulls himself almost out of you entirely before slamming back into you. You cry out, your hands flying to where his back meets his shoulders, nails digging softly into his flesh. Cillian moans when you clench harshly around him when he tugs at your nipple particularly hard. 

“You like these pretty titties to be played with, huh?” Cillian runs his tongue along his bottom lip as he watches your face twist in pleasure when he pulls at the sensitive skin.

You nod, but he lets go of your breasts, running his hands over your body before his hand snakes between the two of you, rubbing tight circles on your clit. You let out a throaty moan, and Cillian curses under his breath as his hips snap against yours at a steady rhythm. 

“Fuuuuck,” you drawl, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your body heaves into the couch from the velocity of Cillian’s perfect cock slamming into you without mercy, “You feel so good inside of me.”

You push Cillian up and off you, shoving him onto the couch behind him. You climb on his lap, throwing your legs over his thighs as you line him back up with your aching cunt. Feeling him stretch you out completely while at a different angle makes you moan uncontrollably as you set a pace, riding Cillian as if your life depended on it. Your ass slaps his hips as he guides them up and down, thrusting into you dead-on. Cillian’s tip hits your cervix flawlessly, and you feel that tightness in your belly. 

“Cum inside me, Cillian,” you swivel your hips, “Fill me up and make me yours.”

“Gonna cum around my cock first?” Cillian’s lips are swollen from incessantly biting as he watches you fuck yourself on him.

You decide you’ll milk him for all he’s got and lean down to land a bruising kiss on his lips. Both of you pant into each other’s mouths as you near your peak, reaching underneath you to flick your clit. Cillian grips your ass as you feel yourself unravel, your orgasm ripping through you. Your walls cave in on CIllian’s length, causing him to reach his own orgasm before he’s ready. He squirms underneath you as you continue to bounce on his cock, coaxing every drop of cum out of him. 

“Fuck,” Cillian exhales as he runs a hand through his sweaty hair, looking just as fucked out as you.

You lay down on his chest, him still inside you. He doesn’t bother moving either; the feeling of you still cloaked around him made him dizzy. Cillian is still trying to wrap his head around how this is real. He also is trying to figure out where to go from here. He’s terrified of telling you his true feelings for you, fearing you won’t want to be friends anymore. Obviously, tonight the dynamic has changed from just friendship between the two of you. 

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for that,” you trace shapes into Cillian’s bare chest, peering up at him when he doesn’t answer. 

He appears deep in thought.

“Everything okay?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows at the man underneath you.

Cillian nods, his hand finding your hair before stroking it softly, “Just thinking.”

“About?” you rest your chest on his collarbone.

“How much I’d like to do this again,” Cillian says, and you chuckle.

“That can be arranged,” you leave a kiss on his neck, his eyes meeting yours through his eyelashes.

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship, though,” Cillian says worriedly.

“You haven’t ruined anything. And I’ve had just as much to do with this as you,” you say, putting your finger under Cillian’s chin to look at him directly, “You’re still my best friend.”

“And you’re fine with whatever this is?”

“It’s the best of both worlds,” you shrug with a smile. 

Cillian moves to sit up against the couch's armrest still sheathed inside you. And as you start yet another make out session and begin to rock your hips with your walls still hugging his cock, you try not to think. The idea that you must hide your feelings for Cillian even more is hard to wrap your mind around.

But little did you know, he was having the same problem. He tries not to think about it as he thrusts into you sloppily, letting you ride him as you please. 

—

“Jesus, shit!”

“God, you’re so fucking drenched. All of this for me?”

“Uh-huh,” you whimper, letting out a pornographic moan as one of Cillian’s hands holds your swollen cunt open while the other rubs at it vigorously.

“Just like that-” Cillian moans at the sounds you’re letting out, “Need you to cum on my face, pretty thing.”

You cry out, rocking your hips against Cillian’s merciless hand as it flies across your pussy with no sign of stopping. He pokes out his middle finger to catch your clit with every swipe of his hand. Your orgasm explodes in your stomach, your core gushing cum as Cillian hurries to dip his face down. He latches his mouth onto your cunt, flicking his tongue over your bundle of nerves, causing you to squirt again. 

“Fuuuck,” you squeal, your hands gripping Cillian’s hair like a vice.

Cillian can’t get enough. He’s not gonna lie, he thinks he’s absolutely obsessed with making you squirt. He could do it all night and still get off at the sight. Cillian laps at your pussy, spreading his tongue around your folds, stimulating the sensitive area further.

“Cill, I’m gonna cum again,” you warn, but Cillian just keeps his eyes closed as he sneaks two fingers inside you.

His fingertips brush against your g spot and send you over the edge a third time, and Cillian’s nipping at your clit causes you to gush again. You were slightly embarrassed but incredibly turned on by it. And you know Cillian is relishing in it, literally and figuratively. He pulls away from you, a little reluctantly, and wipes his mouth and face with the back of his arm. You grab his face and pull him into you as he collapses on your naked, heaving chest. You stare at Cillian, the light from the side table’s lamp shining into his eyes just right. They’re returning to an arctic blue as his heart rate calms, his pupils going back to normal size. Cillian stares back at you, studying your features just as you are his. Freckles sprinkle Cillian’s cheeks and nose, dotting along his forehead and chin as well. His lips are red and swollen, and he’s sporting a lopsided smile as he looks at you. 

“You’re perfect,” you whisper, combing your fingers through his hair, “Literally everything you do, say, and how you look is just flawless. Are you sure you aren’t an angel?” you joke.

A smile spreads upon Cillian’s face as his cheeks tinge pink, the warmth traveling to his ears, “I’m not perfect by any means, and no, I’m not an angel,” he says, his accent thick and raspy from the previous exertion. 

“Mmm, I’m not sure about that,” you say as CIllian softly kisses your neck.

God, I love you, you want to say. Because you do; you love him. You always have, but sharing such intimate moments with Cillian has just strengthened the feeling you already had. You’re honestly exhausted but still blissed out from Cillian going absolutely feral on you. You have never squirted before, and if you could, you’d let him make you squirt all night. You’d watch as your arousal covers his pretty face, delighting him much like it did earlier. Cillian looked like a kid in a candy store as you gushed for him. 

“I’ve never squirted before, so,” you mutter, covering your face with your hands, “Yeah, I’d consider that angelic.”

“Really?” Cillian asks incredulously, “Never? Not even by yourself?”

“Especially not by myself,” you chuckle, uncovering your face to look at Cillian, “You’re better than any vibrator or dildo I own.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Cillian bites your jaw playfully before reaching down and grabbing the duvet, covering the both of you with it.

He rolls off you, much to your dismay. But he immediately pulls you into his chest, holding you tightly with his arms as if you’ll disappear. Cillian slides a leg between yours, his knee pressed against you softly. He rubs his nose against your ear, “Still wet, pretty?”

“Shut up,” you mutter shyly, burying your face in his arms.

“Only if you make me,” Cillian teases you, nipping at your earlobe.

You groan, “Too tired,” you feel Cillian’s hand travel down your navel to gauge how wet you still are, “I don’t think I can move.”

“Who said you had to move?” Cillian asks, pulling your thigh up until your leg is draped over his hip, spreading you open for perfect access.

Before you can ask him to touch you, Cillian lines his length up with your still-needy cunt. You’re surprised you had any remainder of horniness left in you. But there’s something about Cillian that naturally turns you on. You’ve noticed it’s gotten more intense now that he’s your sexual partner. It’s like you can’t get enough of him, and he can’t get enough of you, either. Cillian nudges his tip into you before letting it glide in without a hitch. The way you’re laying makes the angle at which he’s inside of you feel irresistible. You let Cillian play with your still-sensitive clit as his hips snap into your ass. His hot, heavy breath is in your ear as he fucks you slowly. You toss your arm behind you, grabbing the back of Cillian’s neck for leverage as you turn your head around. His lips meet yours hungrily, and he swallows your guttural moans as you fuck yourself on his cock. Cillian’s other hand snakes from underneath you, his fingers wrapping around your throat. He doesn’t press them into your skin but lets them rest there, almost possessively. 

You’ve been exploring each other’s bodies ever since the first night you had sex- trying different angles and positions. But you told Cillian that you didn’t want anything rough. That was reserved for a romantic relationship. Cillian felt a twinge of hurt in his chest when you said that, as if you had meant you weren’t planning on a romantic relationship with him specifically. But he understood and respected your boundaries despite his weird sadness about not being able to do certain things with you. Cillian thought it odd because you were not his, so he had no right to hurt you consensually or mark you as his. So, he shouldn’t be so upset about it. Yet he is because he wants you to trust him with everything you have, and he wants to take care of you after the roughness. Cillian wants you to be taken care of. But he knows his limits and that he can’t break the rules of the friends-with-benefits situation. So Cillian doesn’t choke you during sex, or slap you, or kiss you outside the bedroom- especially in public. He bites his tongue every time you do something that melts his heart. He refrains from saying those three little words every day. Cillian has no idea how much you wished he would break the rules just once or how you wished he’d say he loves you. 

Something comes over you, though. You reach a hand up and cover Cillian’s that is on your neck and press his fingers into the sides of your throat. You sigh contently as your head becomes cloudy from the lack of blood flow to your head. Cillian stops rubbing your clit and takes your hand from over his, slipping his fingers between yours and pinning it in front of you.

You whimper in detest, and Cillian nips at the skin behind your ear, “Naughty thing. Don’t break your own rules, sweetheart.”

You sigh in defeat, but before you can pout, a moan rips through your chest. Cillian pushed your clave up into your thigh, thus making it easier for him to ram his cock against your cervix in a way that sends stars floating across your vision. Your hand squeezes his as you feel your release creeping up.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, watching as Cillian’s length moves in and out of you quickly.

It was erotic yet romantic, him being so close to you and inside you. You and Cillian are now one, but you wish things were different. 

“Good,” Cillian kisses the back of your neck, his nose drawing circles in your skin delicately.

You breathe deeply, feeling your stomach clench. You cry out Cillian’s name as you unravel, his fingers pressing to your clit. Your body trembles and shakes as he continues his assault on the bundle of nerves, still chasing after his own high as he keeps thrusting into you. Your back arches, toes curling as another wave of pleasure hits you. 

“You’re doing so good, angel,” Cillian praises in your ear, “Taking my cock so well. I’m almost there, just hold on.”

The feeling of Cillian exploding inside you sends you over the edge for the third and final time. Stars erupt behind your eyelids, your body convulsing from pleasure. Your pussy clenches around him as he rides out his orgasm, panting in your ear. He almost doesn’t hear you say it. Almost.

“Fuck, I love you,” you whine quietly.

You gasp, immediately realizing what’s slipped from your mouth in a shroud of cloudy pleasure. But you hide your gasp as you catch your breath, inhaling and exhaling sharply. You pray to whatever is out there that Cillian didn’t hear you proclaim your feelings in a vulnerable moment.

Cillian grunts as he pulls out of you, letting your leg go limp and relax back on the bed. He keeps his hand entangled with yours. But you pull your grasp out of his, turning around and facing him. You hurriedly bury your face in his chest so you can’t look at him and see how he’s possibly reacting to your words. Cillian wordlessly wraps his arms around you, pulling you even closer to him. You fight the urge to cry at the silence of the dimly lit room as Cillian tugs the duvet over your sweaty, naked bodies. You try and steady your breath and keep your heart from racing.

“Can you say it again?” Cillian finally asks after several minutes of dead silence.

You lift your head from his chest, looking at him confused, “Say what?”

Cillian looks at you seriously before lifting his hand to touch your face gingerly, “What you said a moment ago.”

“You didn’t hear that, did y-”

“I did. But I want you to say again.”

Tears brim your eyes as you feel heaviness in your chest- will he make fun of you? Did you just ruin everything?

You let out a choked sob, hiding your face in his neck, “I love you. I fucking love you. There, I said it,” you slam your fist against his chest. “Feel free to hate me, but it’s true.”

“I could never hate you, gorgeous,” Cillian pulls away from you, his hands grabbing your cheeks so you’re looking directly at him.

His eyelashes flutter against your cheekbones, much like they did the first time you kissed him weeks ago. You blink away your tears, but Cillian wipes them away with his thumbs.

“I love you too,” Cillian confesses, “I love you so much. You know that?”

Your lips tremble as you nod, but Cillian presses his forehead against yours, and you try to ground yourself. He loves you. Cillian loves you back. Cillian kisses your lips gently as if he’d break you. You grasp his hair, kissing him back passionately.  

“I love you,” you say, pulling away from his lips and kissing his eyelids instead.

“I love everything about you,” you brush your lips across his cheeks, then kiss his nose, “Your angel kisses. Your beautiful eyes. Everything about you. I wasn’t lying when I said you’re perfect.”

Cillian laughs, and you melt at his smile.

“You,” Cillian says, “Are everything to me. Everything that brings me joy, everything that makes me happy.”

You wrap your arms around Cillian’s neck, pulling him close to you as you tuck your face into his neck.

“Never let go,” Cillian says, his arms snaking around your waist and holding you close.

“I won’t,” you say, a heaviness lifting from your chest at last, “I never will.”

taglist:

@baizzhu @aporiasposts @hjmalmed @queenshelby @amanda08319 @naty-1001 @orijanko @raineeace @nela-cutie @cutexlr @flwrs4aust @langdons-slut @shynovelist

[bellaxgiornata]

October Update Information

Tuna-Tober starts next week and I figured I'd give a bit of information about what to expect from me during this next month. It's fitting this writing challenge happens during my birthday month and after reaching over three thousand of y'all lovely people following me! I have absolutely no idea how we got here and I want to celebrate, but I am far too busy to do a follower event specifically. BUT I'll be dropping quite a few fics throughout the month of October for Tuna-Tober so we can pretend it's serving multiple celebration purposes! It's like my birthday gifts to all of you!

I'll be giving a bit of important information below the cut, but you can keep up with my updates for this event in my Tuna-Tober Masterlist.

I'm going to try to schedule posts for the days I have a fic to drop on tumblr (which I've never done and hope it works) in order to update on the correct dates. Though for those of my AO3 readers, you'll either have to read the fics here or wait because I will most likely not be able to get those posted on the correct days. I'm far too busy to actually sit down and update almost daily, unfortunately (and I don't think AO3 let's you schedule posts).

I will not be updating any of my series' during the month of October. I'll be posting far too much already (currently seven pieces completed but I'm aiming to get a couple more written/finished that you see on the masterlist and some you don't) But I should hopefully resume those stories in November.

I will try to use the character one shot tag lists for each of my Tuna-Tober updates, but I will not be adding to it during the time since I'll be scheduling posts ahead of time. I'm hoping tumblr will properly tag, but if not, the days I have fics going up will be listed in the event masterlist. You can always go there to see what updates are out and when more are coming.

I love all feedback and will absolutely try my best to respond to everyone, but I will probably be slow since I'm posting more fics in a month than I've probably posted...like ever. But I absolutely read every comment and reblog when I see them and I appreciate each one ❤

With that, my first fic should drop on October 1st! 🙃

[grendelsmom]

Knitting Update or as I like to call it: the ice bear sock (mis-)adventure

So, I've been getting more comfortable with patterns lately and I thought "Hey! I wanna try my hand at this with something easy!". Seeing as christmas is around the corner I decided I would knit a pair of socks for a friend. And as a little challenge I wanted to design my own pattern for it. Which I mainly did by taking inspiration from an old pair of socks and changing the design around until it fit the amount of stitches required for the size of socks I wanted to knit. And look at that! They look nice - don't they? And they're almost finished!

Lovely ice bears walking through the snow! Only, I made a mistake with the first sock, which I only noticed once I reached the Zwickel of the second sock (my dictionary is telling me it's called gusset or gore? basically the part of the sock where the heel turns into the foot). In the first sock I had forgotten to leave two normal rows inbetween the decreasing rows - meaning that that part of the sock is now much steeper. It does still fit me, but it could potential be a problem for someone with bigger feet. So, I asked my other friend with the same shoe size to try them on for me. It wasn't a problem. What was however a problem was the ice bear pattern part at the top of the sock. You see, I did try my hardest to knit it as loosely as possible, but I still only knitted the stitches recommend in the guidline for a normal pair of socks without a two colour pattern. Meaning the part, because of the two colours, is less elastic and therefore too tight.

At this point I concluded that I had two options. The work I already done wouldn't fit my friend, so I decided to make them shorter later on and use them myself or gift them to a friend with smaller feet so they wouldn't be wasted. Continuing with the project I could either re-work the pattern so that it would work on a higher stich count or knit two plain socks and then stitch the pattern on afterwards. Because the second sounded like less work, I decided to go with that. And tada!

Looks fine, right? A perfectly normal sock, just waiting for the pattern to be stitched on. Yeah... well... as you can see I used a different yarn for this one. (I was getting kind of bored of the first one and the local store didn't have it in stock anymore anyway so I decided to change it up.) The first 1 1/2 socks were knitted in a 4 ply yarn. The second one in 6 ply. Or so I thought. Until I put them next to each other and realised that the second version looked way tighter.

So, I looked back on the yarn label (something I apparently hadn't done since buying the yarn) and - yes, you guessed it - turns out it was actually a 4 ply yarn and I had somehow confinced myself that it was 6 ply to the point that I never double checked it again. (Actually, I know how I did it. I was choosing between two different yarns and the other was a 6 ply. I thought "Oh, I definitely must remember that, because I'll need a different amount of stitches then". Which, yes, I remembered that. I just didn't remember that that wasn't the yarn I went with.) This is a sock the length of a EU 44/45 (US 11.5) with the amount of stitches, so width, of a EU 34/35 (US 4.5) - yes, it's that ridiculous.

So, instead of fixing the original problem of the socks being too tight, I actually just made it worse. And now three weeks after I started a project, that was supposed to take me a week max, I have 2 1/2 socks I cannot use for their intended purpose and just started the first sock I will hopefully, actually be able to gift my friend.

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

"Difficult to please"

"Focalors with a reader that can switch bodies"

Characters: Focalors x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: The obvious things right away: I've never written for Focalors before nor do we have much information about her yet, so I wrote her mostly from my gut feeling after seeing her in the Fountaine trailer.

Anyway, I love Furina as you might have guessed by me changing my theme for her. She's such a little gremlin and her design is so beautiful. I can't wait to see her and how she changes (well, hopefully somewhat to the better at least) in the story.

I’m going to use “Focalors” and “Furina” interchangeably, since I’m 99.99% sure they’re the same person, but hey, if Hoyoverse somehow pulls a huge twist on us and I get it wrong it would also be kinda funny.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Focalors

To say that you were nothing more than a glorified babysitter for Fountaine’s Archon would have been a massive understatement. Once a young law student aspiring to one day become a judge, it didn’t take you long in your position as lawyer to attract the attention of your archon. Not in the “have a vision and beat up the bad guys” kind of way, however. Instead the weird clients you represented never failed to deliver her a somewhat entertaining spectacle, causing the Chief Justice to “volunteer” you as the Archon’s advisor… a role that, while sounding nice, de facto only had the responsibility of keeping her entertained enough to not sully any more court hearings than necessary with her cries of boredom.

When you found out about your powers to switch bodies, you knew better than to tell anyone other than your closest companions… especially Furina. While she got away with her attitude in her own body, you didn’t even want to fathom how many friends she’d be able to alienate or from how many shops she’d get you banned from if she did the same while running around in yours.

However, all of your hard work of keeping it a secret eventually turned out to be futile, as the Archon would eventually figure it out one way or another. After all, the reason she got so little done was not for a lack of ability, she simply didn’t care about most cases and delegated them to whatever judge crossed her path first, but when you began acting a bit stiff around her, the challenge of figuring the reason out was more than enough to keep her on your case.

If it weren’t for the fact that a small voice in your head worried about where to start a new life after having your entire image destroyed by the one currently occupying your body, you would have found the day in your Archon’s body amazing, you got to attend as many court cases as you wanted without anyone batting as much as an eye, got to have your first experiences as a judge and even didn’t have to pay for any of the most delicious food and drinks Fountaine got to offer. The stares you received from the other officials, probably wondering what could have happened for their notoriously difficult Archon to have such a good day, were a bit much at some times, but it was not like you were complaining.

“I want to change back!”, Focalors demanded the moment she stepped into her office, swinging the door behind her shut with as much force as she could muster and not even wincing in the slightest at how loud it was. Beelining towards the couch as she let herself fall onto it, letting out a groan of annoyance loud enough to make any bird sleeping outside fall out of its nest.

“Can’t handle being asked out all the time?”, you tried to crack a joke, knowing all too well that answering earnestly would only earn you a bored sigh.

“Ha!”, Furina let out a loud laugh before turning her face towards you. “Remind me to make you my court jester the next time we are in need of one”, she stated sarcastically before looking back at the ceiling. For your and Fountaine’s sakes however, you decided to disregard her order and to not to remind her of how she had just fired the last one for “being boring”.

“Aren’t you humans supposed to have interesting lives? What happened to ‘live every day like it's your last one’? Or is doing *this* what you all desire??”, she asked while extending her arms and wildly signaling into the air.

“What did you do all day?”, you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible even though your mind was starting to panic about what you might be greeted with tomorrow. But instead of answering your question, your Archon ignored you and continued to complain about how boring your life was, causing you to start worrying even more.

“I bet you loved this day, watching boring court cases, getting any food you desired for free, being asked for your opinion… eugh”, she let out yet another groan, making you wonder how easy it was for her to read you.

“Furina.”

“Anyway, I want my body back. So give it to me”, she continued to ignore you as she stated her earlier demand once again.

“What did you do while in my body, Furina?”, you asked one last time, grabbing both of her shoulders to force eye contact with her.

“You’ll probably have some explaining to do. I honestly want to see it all play out, it’s going to be the most entertainment I’ve had in months”, she answered off-handedly, causing you to bury your face in your palms as she continued on as if nothing happened.

“I’ll make you a judge as compensation, it’ll be a win-win. You’ll get to do what you always wanted to do and I may get one or two interesting hearings out of it”, Furina stated before pulling your hands away from your face and placing her forehead on yours, prompting the two of you to finally change bodies.

Yet, her offer caused you to feel even more conflicted than you already were. Finally, it was your time to let out a groan.

“That’s Nepotism.”

“I don’t care”, she responded bluntly, forcing you to use all your self control not to fall into the deep pit of hopelessness for your nation currently seeming to open in front of you. “Didn’t you want to become a judge?”

“Yes, but I want to earn it!”

What followed were a couple of seconds of silence before Furina turned around, walked over to a different couch, sat down, let out a long sigh and spoke a sentence so laced with irony that you didn’t know whether to cry or laugh at it.

“Fine. Geez, you’re so difficult to please.”

[changingplumbob]

Shay McClain - Hopeful Bachelorette

Entry for Mad About Dodo by @akitasimblr

Tell us a bit about yourself. What do you do to keep busy? How would your friends describe you?

Okay, well, hi, I'm Shay. I never really fit in at school so after graduation while all my classmates headed to university I wanted something different. I've always liked making stuff so I was looking at getting into carpentry and then one of my dads had the best idea. They both know I love adventure and exploring so they suggested I travel and volunteer with organizations like Habitat for Humanity. I do a bit of carpentry when I'm home to keep the funds up. But yeah I travel the world getting to see cool places, surfing and mountain climbing, and putting my hands to good use making homes for people. Most of my friends are people I've met through that and they'd probably say I'm confident, my dads would probably say over confident, have a passion for making things, especially out of junk but in my defense people throw a lot away too quickly, and... just... a lust for life. But have you looked around? There's beauty in everything.

And why have you applied for Mad About Dodo?

My dad's are worried I'll die alone so have been trying to sort out a way for me to meet people, of course they can't exactly organize a blind date for me when we're in different continents. Don't get me wrong, I would like love in my life, it's kind of the piece that's missing you know. Anyway they sent me the entry details and I have to admit, Dodo is cute. Not that I would just apply because of an attractive person but I was reading about how he's tried other challenges before and I admire his perseverance to keep trying. That's what we have to do at the job sites. So if he's looking for someone to sweep him off his feet I'll do my best.

What do you think of your outfits?

I'm happy they're not just draping us in leaves and calling it a day. I think we've managed to pull together some stuff that'll fit in on an island. But why did we do a cold weather outfit? Aren't islands warm?

How do you see yourself getting on with other competitors?

I've honestly no idea. But I can tell you right now they better keep their pranks away from me. Seriously, a joke that's made at the expense of someone else isn't a joke. Learn how to be funny without punching down.

If you're the kind of person that can spot the good things in life I think we'll get on. I do hate small talk though, let's get to the good juicy stuff! Life's too short to be commenting on the weather constantly.

Tell us about some of your likes and dislikes

Well like I said I really like making stuff. I enjoy fabricating but my favourite is when I can carve stuff like sculptures or furniture. I'm also big into fitness, I like to keep myself in shape. I like yoga to even if I can't balance right half the time.

Dislikes... juice fizzing. I'm not going to go into detail but I had a bad experience. Mischief obviously, I'll crack jokes anytime you like but don't expect me to tie you to a voodoo doll. Programming is also something I just find boring as well as research, so it really is best that I didn't go to university.

What are you looking forward to?

Getting to know Dodo. Hopefully he can be more than a friend. I'm also looking forward to testing out my survival skills. I think they're pretty good with the work I've done but you never know until you're in the situation I guess. But yeah, mainly getting to see if this guy is the one for me, if I can be the one for him.

What are you dreading?

Sunburn! And walking around not realizing I've been pooped on by a bird.

I know most people would probably say lack of bedding and plumbing but I've gone without them before, I can handle going without them again.

Do you have a message for Dodo?

Hey Dodo, if you want someone who can work wonders with their hands I'm here *laughs* No, I'm kidding, please don't tell him I said that. Umm... Hi Dodo, I'm looking forward to building this next part of my life with you in it. See you on the island!

Download SFS

[lizablee]

I think I've worked out a way to make an FCG reincarnation attempt satisfying.

Reincarnate obviously needs to be attempted. The party is not going to do any less for FCG than they did for Laudna, and they will have access to the spell through Fearne or Keyleth. Having said that... it might be a mixed success.

Here's what could play out:

1. Choice Matters

FCG chose to sacrifice themself. Reincarnate requires a willing soul. Matt could rule that as FCG's soul departed willingly in their sacrificial death, it would not return during reincarnation. This could be pointed out gently by Keyleth.

2. Core Problem

Maybe, unlike regular humanoids, the only body part an Aeormaton needs to live is their core. Maybe the metal plates and wires and shit are all just cladding, able to be removed and replaced at will. Maybe that means the parts of FCG the Bells scavenged are not enough - maybe it NEEDS to be the core, because the rest is the equivalent of clothes.

Trying to reincarnate FCG based off anything but their core would fail, and their core was incinerated. They are gone.

3. Aeormaton based complications

When originally deactivated in Aeor (probably by the Calamity) FCG lost their memories almost completely. They were reborn with no past just a few years ago.

There are a few options here. FCG could reincarnate with no memory, just like before, and the Bells could mercifully let them stay on Exandria in safety, making a sacrifice of their own and hopefully leaving FCG to start a happy new life as a flesh-and-blood being.

Secondly, FCG could reincarnate using their current, reborn age - a 2-4 year old child. They come back with a mess of memories in the body of a toddler, knowing they want to help but realising they can't. They are emotional and confused but a cuddle and a drink of juice helps them cheer up. The Hells realise that FCG deserves a real childhood (instead of being thrown into service from the point of creation) and refuses to take them, leaving them with a trusted adult... like the fate-stitcher Morrigan. FCG gets to have a whimsical Fearne-like childhood with the hag they once designed team-building exercises with, and Nanna gets a fascinating reincarnated centuries old robot-turned-mortal with a heart of gold. The Hells can visit whenever they want, and if Orym's deal somehow hasn't broken, he can raise FCG like a son.

Finally. Okay here's my theory. It's possible that a unique type of resurrection applies to Aeormatons, given it was still possible after centuries to start waking them up. It could be that an intact core is required to link soul to body, so without their core, there would be no resurrecting FCG. On the other hand, as cores don't decay like regular humanoid bodies, they don't have a time limit for resurrection - hence FCG's activation a few years ago. Maybe D casts resurrection-related spells on all the Aeormatons with cores to wake them up. If the process fails, they sell the Aeormaton body to keep funding their efforts to search and rescue their people. Maybe selling FCG was an honest mistake - they thought resurrection didn't work, but FCG just needed a little more tuning to wake up - or maybe they wanted FCG to be cared for by someone with mechanical skills so they could have regular tune-ups. We haven't seen any resurrection or revivify spells cast on FCG - who knows if they would work? Maybe reactivation is always a challenge for Aeormatons, and the Hells just hadn't encountered it yet. Maybe getting in touch with D is the ONLY way to bring FCG back, core or no core.

In meeting D, the Bells could learn that a core is required for reactivation, and that there never was a hope for FCG. It would be cathartic because they'd know they had done everything in their power, but FCG would be allowed to rest.

-

I don't think Matt would have put such weight on making sure Sam understood his decision if this was going to be a simple case of casting a spell to fix it. But the table has to try. Don't be discouraged when they start pursuing reviving FCG, just know it's a pathway to more storytelling. Really, everything is.

[galactickohipot]

I'm done with Dawntrail's msq! Here are some of my thoughts! The new zones are really cool and varied! It's a pleasure to explore. There are little settlements and villages scattered all around the maps and I LOVE IT! It feels so lived in and credible. It's really nice seeing npcs go about their little lives there. The graphical update really helped in seeing this vision realized and it's so nice to see. I've come to notice more details in previous zones too! Overall the battle content is real nice this expac, mechanics are more engaging than in EW. As a casual sch main (rip smn), I'm happily peeling dps off the ground in expr dungeons. I also liked the vibes and the job quests in Tural; it reminds me of early AST questline, which was a pleasure to go through. As for the rest, unfortunately msq is absolute trash tier. Some people are comparing it to ARR, but that's honestly underselling 2.0 in a lot of ways. Spoilers ahead!

First, I must confess, I am an ARR enjoyer. I love its world building, its slow pace, how lived in and carefully crafted everything is, how rewarding it is to pay attention to lore details, how incredible it is at hinting at something bigger. My favorite expac is HW, and while I haven't found anything quite like it since, I still find the rest of the story at least entertaining. Now, with that said, I didn't set my expectation especially high with this new expansion. It was supposed to be the start of a new saga and so I imagined it would start slow, with what I assumed would be a lot of settup. I was sorely disappointed. Honestly, I don't even mind Wuk Lamat, but the fact she is so present in the adventure makes it hard to ignore how poorly written she ended up being. Her character flaws never have actual consequences, every problem is resolved within one or two cutscenes and none of her victories feel earned. Several times they could have meaningfully challenged her character, but they never went past surface level banalities like "friendship is magic". As a result, she feels like a broken record half of the time. A shame!

What gave me a good laugh was how Krile kept hitting us on the head with her whole "OMG Zoraal Ja is Evil!" everytime she sees this character. It would've been nice yknow... to let us wonder about who he really was, his family ties , and what his intensions truly were. but no, they told us everything from the get go.

The characters say what they mean and mean what they say. The heroes are never wrong, never mislead, always have the purest of intentions. Their beliefs are never challenged. There's no subtext, no wonder, no mystery. So why care at all? All of it is a big fat missed opportunity. DT's characters deserved better.

In recent expacs, I've been annoyed with their tendency to solve issues like unemployment or poverty in a few lines of dialogue. For example, in ARR and HW, you would deal with the symtoms of an issue, like refugees being preyed upon, or people in need being taken advantage of. When done well, you would be given a good overview of the situation, several angles and hopefully, a bit of nuance. In later expacs, you get 16yo Alphinaud telling you if you are poor you should find work lol. The npc's agency is often cast aside so your character can look good, so you can come up with every solutions, so you can be the hero. They don't feel like a people you're trying to help, they are plot devices to facilitate your power fantasy. Writers find ways around complex situations, to reassure the player that no no their way is the best, there was no other choices. It thoroughly reduces the impact of the story imo. I really believe some issues need to stay unsolvable in a story. Not everything can be resolved by killing gods, and that's fine. It's mature, it's humbling.

In Dawntrail however, this has been taken to the extreme! A lot of these problems end up feeling very one note, and the solutions, condescending. One scene and it's dealt with! Concepts, questions or consequences don't really have time to stay with the characters or the player. It feels like characters are written in little boxes, rarely interracting with a rich world and its history, and are conveniently pushed along by little plot devices. As a result, the over-arcing narrative isn't cohesive at all. The only part that worked on me was Cahciua's questline, because we are left somewhat wondering about her or Erenville's feelings for a little while. Otherwise, nothing lingers between questlines, and things really feel badly pieced together. Now, I was really looking forward to the world building in DT! I know past expacs also had cultures based on rl ones, but the focus of the story wasn't tourism then. By drawing attention to it, it becomes apparent that every zone is rushed, reducing the tribes there to one or two easily digestible trait for Wuk Lamat to understand. She'll either solve their problems with a grand monologue about peace and love or pretend she grew from the 2 hours tutorial on "trading for dummies". It's so frustrating! Either they don't trust in their own writing ability or they don't respect the player's intelligence.

Dawntrail is shiny, pretty and colorful, but the moment you scratch the surface, it crumbles down. The plot falls apart if you think about it for more than two seconds. The elements are all there but this feels like a first draft. It's just so inoffensive and bland!!! It is ironic that the dawn of a new saga, the golden legacy of FFXIV, completely forgot how ARR came to be. How painstakingly and carefully the new game was crafted when 1.0 crashed and burned. It's a game about heritage, and yet it didn't take time to properly consider its past strengths. idk man... Time to go back to the drawing boad!

[transmutationisms]

I feel like this is likely a bat to a hornet's nest topic but I deeply respect your takes and thoughts overall a lot so here goes: I really appreciate that the show frankly goes out of its way to not pathologize its characters and lets the audience sit with them in the context of their own lives. So I'm kind of baffled that so much focus is given to "diagnosing" them in fan discussions, the vast brunt of which Kendall gets. I don't understand how you can watch this show and understand him as someone who's been heavily abused and had his reactions to being abused weaponized against him and come away being like "wow it's so cringe he acts like that, he must have a brain disease and is just too stupid to understand that. every action he takes is because he is manic/depressed/letting the disease manifest. if only he took the good moral Legal drugs that I do instead of the ontologically bad ones that are Illegal and for dirty addicts. hopefully one day he will Get Help and Receive Treatment so he will be more palatable (no whatever he's done up to this point doesn't count because it didn't work which must inherently be due to his own moral failings)." How did a show like this attract so many Reganites??

bat at a hornets' nest yes. yeah i've said before that i dislike diagnosing fictional characters as a general rule. it's tautological ("they do [x] because they have [y], and they have [y] because they do [x]") and abrogates further analysis of their motives or the meanings of their actions. and it's doubly irksome to me with succession, because unlike a lot of tv, i genuinely don't think that it's written within the weltanschauung of dsm neurobio determinism. ie, it's not a show where the answer to "why did he do that?" is ever supposed to be "his brain is just like that"—these actions are supposed to mean something about what the character wants and needs, and the effect of the capitalist milieu on those things. it's psychological, not psychiatric (& of course, psychoanalytic approaches are common in formal literary studies, whereas blunt psychiatric diagnosis is decidedly less so).

with kendall's drug use there are some particularly irritating ways this all plays out. i've been fiddling with my own reading emphasising the context of logan's demands on kendall and the construction of bourgeois masculinity, and have tried to place kendall's drug use as a response to neoliberal control mechanisms à la deleuze or foucault. i could certainly be challenged on elements of this reading, but what i see on this website is generally just an endless slog of very biomedicalised reads that seem to have no awareness of the particular historical and social baggage present in that model. i do agree there's an element of reactionary DARE-esque moralising going on here (stg if i have to read one more post written by someone who, like, has never so much as met a coke user and thinks all drugs instantaneously give you irreversible morally weighted heart damage, lmao), but it's honestly not just that.

i think most of the time when people do this they're not trying to be reactionary or regressive, and often they not only don't believe themselves to be moralising affective distress, but actually think the dsm diagnosis is the way to avoid that type of moralisation. this is essentially the "it's a discrete disease entity, so they have no control over it and can't help it, so it's not their fault" argument. in practice this fails on many levels. for one thing, it often implicitly assumes that 'ending the stigma' requires any kind of mental disability or affective distress to be treated analogously to physical disability or illness, as though those latter are not also consistently stigmatised and moralised—because ableism is actually more complex than that and has to do with the fact that capitalism values people on the basis of the 'use' it can make of them and their bodies, etc etc. it is also, again, a wildly decontextualised understanding of affective distress, the reasons why people use drugs—including in a manner that feels compulsive and out of control—and so forth.

i'll add also that wrt succession, i actually do see a LOT of pathologisation thrown at roman as well, and more than an incidental amount directed at connor, tom, shiv, and logan. which is to say, i don't think this is solely about people's discomfort with addicts. there's a broad tendency among fans, echoing the even broader social tendency, to see medical diagnosis as personally liberatory, and medicine and psychiatry as passing 'objective' judgments that are necessary in order for a person to 'get better.' this is essentially positivism and is very much a status that the medical profession has fought to obtain (in france you can trace certain 18th-century discourses on national decline, aristocratic luxury, and the corrupting influence of the city -> the birth of clinical medicine after the first revolution -> social hygiene and the pathologisation of the parisian urban poor -> the third republic's 'physician-legislators' and the general class status and professionalisation of medicine; i know less about the gory details of the american and british cases simply by dint of what i do professionally).

we tend to forget these histories when talking about science; it presents itself as a set of timeless, incontrovertible truths that are simply waiting to be uncovered, and we have entire industries of science communication and journalism that propagate this view. which is to say, circling back to succession, i don't believe that most people diagnosing and pathologising these characters are trying to be reactionary or are aware that there are reactionary and moralising elements inherently built into these discourses. i think they're largely people who have not been given the tools to see alternatives, like the perspectives dominant in the history and sociology of science, which are very much kept paywalled and inaccessible on purpose because this is profitable for the academe.

this type of popular literary analysis is simply not going to go anywhere as long as this is still the status and the moral resonance of medicine (and psychiatry by extension because it gained its professional independence without sacrificing the appeal to medico-scientific epistemological authority). i don't think succession viewers are any more or less prone to this type of thinking than the general population they exist amongst. i firmly disagree with this attitude, obviously, and like i said, i don't actually think succession is written 'psychiatrically,' which cannot be said for all tv lol. but i more or less expect to encounter this type of deference to medico-psychiatric judgments in 95% of social interactions and contexts, again because of a combination of institutional control of information, other forms of inaccessibility, and physicians' and psychiatrists' advocacy for their own class and professional interests, both historically and ongoing today.

[taruchinator]

☔ General Audiences

☔ 1.7k Words

☔ Day 1 | Rainy Day for @flufftober

It had only been a couple of weeks since everyone made it safe and sound to the Human Realm.

Leaving nothing but pain and destruction in the place they called home, Luz was determined to make her friends feel welcomed, and at the very least somewhat happy during their impromptu visit.

So when the opportunity of showing non-boiling rain to Hunter presented itself, how could she possibly resist?

Ladies and gents, I'd like to welcome you to something I've never done before, which is trying a challenge I've always been too scared to do: Flufftober! :3

I can't promise I'll do all the prompts, but I definitely have a few things already stashed for everyone's fluffy enjoyment! This one goes to you, Huntceda nation! 💜💛

“Man, I can't wait to get this to Amity when we get home! I really hope she likes it…”

Luz happily waltzed down the sidewalk past the bookstore she'd just come from, all the while never letting go of the paper bag that contained her precious treasure worth a good twenty dollars.

Hunter let out a chuckle, easily keeping up with the brunet’s brisk pace. “I doubt that'll be an issue considering you two go nuts over anything Azura related. Not sure what makes this book any different from the others, though.”

The human girl let out a fake gasp, already knowing her companion was just teasing and decided to play along. She lifted her bag and extracted the tome from inside, instantly waving it in his face as if that would be enough clarification. “This is no ordinary Azura book—It's the five year anniversary collector’s edition! It includes never-before-seen artwork, interviews with the author, and so much more! I got mine when it first came out, but when I heard it never made it to the Boiling Isles, I'd say it's the perfect gift!”

It had only been a couple of weeks since everyone made it safe and sound to the Human Realm. Leaving nothing but pain and destruction in the place they called home, Luz was determined to make her friends feel welcomed, and at the very least somewhat happy during their impromptu visit. Because of this, she prepared special gifts for everyone to hopefully cheer them up a bit.

Willow had gotten a new polaroid camera, seeing how her interests had grown into that of photography and capturing special moments in time.

Gus got the surprise of a lifetime when he awoke to a box set full of Cosmic Frontier novels, courtesy of the one and only Camila Noceda.

Hunter got a handmade birdhouse for Flapjack—albeit a bit smaller than Luz had intended, even though the blond told her it was fine—, along with a bird watching kit, with everything from binoculars to bird seed to even a notebook to document his findings. Maaaaybe she'd gone a bit overboard on his, but those were the boyfriend-girlfriend privileges!

So after today's purchase, that would knock everybody off the list. If early signs were any indication, the tokens of appreciation were working, at least for a little bit. It was the least she could do for them…

Trying to push herself out of the mental fog that wanted to trap her, Luz clung to Hunter's arm and snuggled into it with a content sigh. His warmth always seemed to soothe her no matter where they were, and the cold weather was definitely giving him extra points. “Thanks for tagging along, by the way. You could've stayed reading with Gus all afternoon…”

The blond pulled another paper bag from behind his back, all the while grinning from ear to ear in the way that made Luz's heart melt. “Are you kidding? And miss the chance of getting our own special edition copy of Cosmic Frontier? Gus is going to lose it when we show this to him! Although we might keep this to ourselves for a bit, right Flap?”

The palisman chirped in reply from his resting spot on Hunter's shoulder. Luz giggled at the display—this boy would be the death of her one of these days, and she was more than okay with that.

“Alright you bookworms, it's time to head back before—”

Cutting her sentence short, a low rumble emanated from the sky, and it was only then the duo realized how it'd changed from blue to light gray. It was definitely clear when they'd left the house earlier.

After a droplet landed on Luz's nose catching her off-guard for a moment, she finally realized what was going on: it was starting to rain. Now, it wasn't like she didn't know this would happen—the weather forecast mentioned the chance of light showers in the afternoon, hence the brunette hoping against all odds that they'd make it back before the sky decided to open up.

Hunter on the other hand, was a different story.

“L-Luz! We have to find shelter! Boiling rain's coming!” The teen reached for the girl's hand and didn't give her a chance to reply before he started bolting back to the bookstore. Despite her protests, the blond didn't stop until they were under the protection of the building’s roof. His voice was laced with concern as the grip on her hand never wavered. “You okay?”

As she was catching her breath, Luz gave him a warm smile and squeezed his hand in reassurance, hopefully conveying her appreciation through the simple gesture. “I'm fine Hunter, thanks. Although… you do remember that rain doesn't boil in the Human Realm, right?”

A beat of silence.

Flapjack chirped between them once more as he ruffled his feathers to rid them of the moisture. Hunter's ears turned a light shade of pink as he batted his palisman away in annoyance. “F-Flapjack, cut it out!”

Luz giggled once more and raised an inquisitive eyebrow while reaching into her backpack. “I'll take that as a no?”

“I-It's not really my fault, you know! Humans run from rain here too, so it's not exactly easy to remember it won't melt our faces off!” The blond pointed at the display in front of them in exasperation, most definitely trying to save any dignity he had left. It wasn't working as well as he hoped.

“Well, you're lucky you have such a resourceful girlfriend, then!” As she finished uttering those words, Luz revealed a medium sized umbrella she'd brought with her to their errands—a gift from Willow, sleek and black and designed after a cat, with little ears on top and everything. It quickly became one of her favorites.

After opening it up, the brunette walked away from the safety of the bookstore's roof until she could hear the relaxing sounds of water splashing above her head, yet it was keeping her completely dry. A hum escaped her lips as she turned to look at her surroundings, only then realizing the streets were completely empty. Maybe Hunter had a point about humans running away from rain, too.

Speaking of the blond, Luz turned back to find him staring at her in complete awe, as if she were walking through fire and not just a simple splash in the park. With a little spin that would most definitely leave her sneakers soaked thanks to the puddles underneath, the girl gave him a smile as she waved him over. “Come on! It's safe!”

Even though Luz knew Hunter believed her, the skepticism in his eyes was evident as he eyed his surroundings warily.

With a fond roll of her eyes, the girl walked back until she was face to face with her boyfriend, this time extending a hand towards him. Water splashed against her open palm, and it was nothing but refreshing. “It's okay… I promise your face won't melt off. It'll stay as cute as always.”

Another blush spread across the blond's cheeks, but this time determination seemed to shimmer in his eyes. His gloved hand began to slowly make its way outwards, trembling slightly but moving steadily in Luz's direction. With only an inch of distance between them—

“Ow!”

“W-Wah!!!”

Before she knew it, the brunette's back hit the concrete with a wet ‘thud!’, almost knocking the wind out of her if not for Hunter's hands reaching out to cradle the back of her head before impact. How he'd managed to do that in the milliseconds they'd fallen, she'd never understand. Golden Guard training was all that popped in her mind.

Speaking of which, they'd indeed fallen to the ground, with Hunter holding his weight with one hand to avoid crushing Luz, while the other slowly let go of her head to look at her with concern. “Are you okay?! I-I tried to stop but Flapjack got in the way so I could only kinda cushion the fall with my hand and—”

“Hunter! I'm fine, really! I mean aside from my back… oof, that's gonna leave a bruise in the morning…” As she sat from her position on the floor, Luz was finally able to see what happened. Flapjack was holding onto Hunter's noodle strand with what could only be described as a satisfactory expression that almost seemed to say ‘you're welcome.’

Despite Luz finding it amusing, the blond was not having any of it as he eventually tugged the palisman away and pointed a finger at his feathered chest. “You can't keep doing that, mister! Someone could've gotten seriously hurt!”

“Hey Hunter?”

“Not now Luz, he's gotta learn! You can't keep making excuses for him!”

“I was actually gonna ask if you've noticed where we're sitting.”

At that, the blond's eyes turned from his bird companion to look around. Water splashed against his clothes, leaving them completely soaked and exposed to the elements. But none of it burned. It was actually rather… peaceful?

Luz's umbrella lay discarded to the side as she opened up her arms in earnest. The smile on her face was infectious. “Told you you'd be safe! Maybe we cut Flap some slack since I'm sure he was just trying to help you get over your fear!”

The playfulness in her voice didn't go unnoticed to Hunter, and all he could do was sigh in defeat with a tired smile gracing his features. “You guys are lucky I love you. I swear I would've thrown you in a dungeon a long time ago…”

“Aww, see Flapjack? I told you he'd be forgiving!” Luz cradled the bird in her arms with a wide grin spread across her cheeks.

She was sure to get an earful from her mom once they got home—asking her how she could be so careless and that they'd catch a cold and ‘por esto no te dejo salir con tu a solas con tu muchacho!’

Still, her heart felt full and that was truly all she could ever ask for.

“WAIT LUZ WHERE ARE OUR BOOKS?!”

… Well, hopefully Amity didn't mind getting a kitty souvenir for Ghost from the pet store instead.

[leithanienwnt]

This clear has it all:

1) Bassline solo holding the map for a solid minute while I wait to redeploy everyone;

2) Ebenholz soloing this boss without any blocking or assistance; and

3) In the process of soloing the boss, Eben hitting it while it's untargetable and in the air

There's a lot going on in this one, but I'll get into that below.

So, this isn't the first time I've niched this map. 11-20 adverse is one of my favourite maps due to how much fun I had putting together my first clear here, pre-zwillingstürme. Dealing with the ranged pressure and holding multiple lanes was a challenge with only one ground unit, but with Carnelian beside Eyja, working together to hold the top lane, I was able to manage it. However, to get it down to a four op, Carnelian was the obvious cut. She helped a lot both with the boss and with Eyja's laneholding, but she couldn't solo anything, and I knew I'd need that to get it down to four. But that also meant I had to replace Eyja, since she couldn't survive the artillery fire without Carnelian splitting the damage. And just cutting those two complicated things. Without them, I needed to replace their laneholding AND account for the fact that Carnelian wouldn't be helping with the boss and Eben wouldn't be getting the 22% attack buff from Eyja. But that wasn't the only change.

Viviana was a clear addition to the clear to help take over for Eyja and Carnelian. She's very durable, and on S3 can basically shrug off the boss's arts barrage. Plus, her S3's range lets her help out elsewhere. But the thing was, I'd need to reposition her, and she couldn't help the other lane until she moved. So, we reach the first thing: Bassline just holding the map for a bit while everyone else gets redeployed.

This wasn't plan A. My first thought was having Czerny there, as he's more offensive, and I hoped that with Eyjaberry's healing he'd be able to clear out the top lane on his own, and then Vivi would be able to help with the boss. But he couldn't survive the whole map, and Vivi could help with the top lane OR the boss, not both. So it was going to be Bassline for his durability and healing, and Vivi clearing everything out in both lanes. This meant the only option was (thing two) an Eben boss solo, and to do that, I'd need to maximize the time it spent in his range. Meaning I'd need to move him AND Eyjaberry along with Vivi (since Eyjaberry couldn't survive the artillery fire at the start if I opened with her in her second spot, and Eben would need to take her first spot). So, Bassline would need to hold down the fort while everyone else played musical chairs. And somehow, despite him doing basically no damage at all, he did it.

But even with the redeployments and the revised positioning, the Eben solo still wasn't working. I even borrowed a pot 4 Eben from a friend (thanks Yin!!!) and it still leaked with one HP. So I was left desperately trying to perfectly manage his skill timings in order to just eke out the tiniest but of extra damage so that I hopefully wouldn't have to desperately search for a whale with a pot 5 Eben. Which led to me accidentally discovering thing number three: the boss becomes untargetable while it launches itself, but it doesn't become invincible.

Now, as far as I can tell, I might be the first person to discover this. I can't easily search bilibili, but everyone I showed this to had never seen it. So, very tentatively, I'm going to say that maybe, maaaaybe I discovered this. And even if not, I never expected to uncover a tech this obscure in the process of any of my clears. But anyway, how does this work? If it's untargetable, isn't that the same as it being invincible?

So, Eben's S3 can be manually cancelled, and doing so forces him to ignore his lengthy attack interval and immediately launch an auto. This alone rarely comes up. I think my DoS C map "solo" was the only clear I've done where it was necessary, as usually one off-skill auto attack isn't going to be the difference anywhere. But the skill timings were so tight here that I had to cancel the skill early right then anyway so it'd be up again as the boss entered the blue box. And after a few attempts, I hit this. It relies on cancelling the skill the frame the boss takes damage, so as to launch an attack before it becomes untargetable. As far as I can tell, it's frame perfect, and largely dependent on the game's search cycles (which makes hitting that frame perfect timing kind of a roll of the originium dice), and it's incredibly difficult to replicate. But, with the extra damage from that, the on-skill auto at the end was enough, and the clear worked.

Anyway I have no idea if people read my descriptions, but I had to get this out somewhere lol. I hope you enjoy watching this as much as I enjoyed putting it together.