#and i know some moots will look at this and take a good guess as to which twins I'm currently referring to

[sierrale8ne]

christmas eve aubrey griffin, ayanna patterson, paige bueckers 🎄

sfw // kissing, sexual innuendos, cute christmas fluff

kalena speakss 🪽! i recommend having this song on loop while reading, it really works wonders on the heart strings 🥹 merry (early) christmas eve and happy holidays to all my amazing followers and moots.

🏷️ @thaatdigitaldiary @bueckersbitch @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @ohbueckers @rosemariiaa @bucketbueckers @janaelalfysblunt @tndaqlifwy

ayanna and kelli’s christmas eve 🎞️

“Lay your head on me, I got you baby.” justin bieber 2011

“I can’t believe you made me put these on.” Ayanna groans, walking down the stairwell of my parents home in plaid pajama pants and a red, ugly, Christmas sweater with gingerbread men on it.

She looks adorable, her skin glowing from the light of the fireplace and the television.

“I didn’t make you do anything. You have free will.” I shrug from my place on the couch. White fuzzy socks cover my feet as I tuck my legs up on the couch. It’s barely even chilly, but the holiday spirit makes me pile on all the layers.

“Kel, this shit is ugly.”

“You wanna take it off?” I comment, looking over at her suggestively.

“In your parent’s house? Nah, I’ll be aight.” Yanna looks at me astonished, pulling on the tight coil that falls over her forehead. She huffs, sitting next to me on the couch.

“That’s what I thought.” I reply, pressing play on the movie in front of us.

It’s Are We There Yet, which I refuse to accept as a Christmas movie, but since Yanna sucked it up and put on the matching outfit, I guess I can be a good girlfriend and watch her poor choice of a movie.

She pulls on the lever that makes the seat recline, giving me all the space to get comfortable in the space between us as we cuddle.

“I missed you so damn much, pretty. You don’t even know”

I’m taken aback by her sudden show of affection, but it makes me smile. And that pretty word nearly makes my cheek turn as read as the sweaters.

“Me too.” I nod, looking away from Nia Long on the screen and up at my girlfriend. “The team was getting too comfortable with my baby. Needed you to come back.”

Yanna laughs in between kissing my forehead. “I thought I was getting replaced by med school exams.” She says back.

I really didn’t realize just how much we’d been busy. UConn and Harvard weren’t too far away, the distance could’ve been worse. But from chasing a national championship and trying to become a doctor, her and I just had so much going on.

It’s really a Christmas miracle that I get her all to myself for a few days.

“Y’sure I can’t give you my gift tonight?” Yanna asks me. I laugh, pausing the movie that obviously neither one of us was paying attention to anymore.

“Girl, no!” I exclaimed.

“Please! I’ll give you another tomorrow.” She attempts to negotiate. I want to say no, knowing that if my mom were to hear that I’ve changed her very serious Christmas plans, she’d probably kill me.

But it’s Ayanna, and she looks so convincing with that pretty and perfect smile that I just can’t say no.

Which is exactly how I find myself with my legs crossed, giggling as she hands me the medium sized Tiffany & Co box. It isn’t wrapped, which lets me know she was planning on giving it to me when we were alone rather than when our families were around.

“NIL money getting you right?”

Yanna grins at me as she shrugs. Trying to look nonchalant about it, but I know her better than that.

“Something like that.”

I untied the white ribbon on the box, revealing the gold Tiffany Hardware Wrap Necklace that I had saved in my phone for months.

“Were you in my search history?” I ask, incredulously, looking at her astonished. “It’s beautiful.” I pout, tears rimming my cheeks from the gesture.

"I needed some inspiration for your gift because you always say you have everything you need and not what you want," Yanna explains, cutely rubbing the back of her neck.

"I do have everything I need and want," I smile. I put the lid back on the box, holding it close to my chest as I lean into her.

My arm wraps around her neck, inhaling the scent of her body wash. Her lips press to my clothed shoulder, hugging me back like any second I could evaporate into thin air.

"I have you," I mumble almost inaudibly, but knowing her she obviously hears me. I hear a small laugh escaping her lips, breathless nearly.

“You got me, baby.” She confirms, kissing that spot on my shoulder again. “Always.”

aubrey and shayne’s christmas eve 🍪

“You leave some cookies out I’ma eat ‘em all.” justin bieber 2011

“Stop it!” Shayne exclaims, swatting Aubrey’s hand away from the recently decorated sugar cookie she just placed down.

It was the couple’s second christmas together, and this time Shayne insisted that they had to decorate cookies on Christmas eve.

Making them was messy, flour and sugar all over the kitchen counter. Then as soon as they were out of the oven, Aubrey went out of her way to reach for a piping hot cookie, just to end up burning her finger and crying like a baby.

“I just wanna see your work!” Aubrey explains, pushing the girl off to the side by her hip. She looks at the cookie, a snowman with a big top hat, and she snickers. “Why are his eyes melting?”

Shayne rolls her eyes at the loud laugh that escapes her girlfriend. “Then you make one! Here.” She says, placing a similar cookie on a plate.

The two hum along to the christmas tune playing on the TV, sugar and cinnamon and vanilla shifts through the air, along with the occasional poking fun of each other’s cookies.

“See, mine looks good.” Aubrey says lifting her gingerbread man up towards her face.

Shayne pulls a face, and every bone in her body is telling her to tell the girl how ugly her cookie looks or something of that nature. But she was right, it actually looked cute.

“It does, baby. Hol’ on let me get a picture of it.” She digs in the pocket of her christmas tree pajamas for her phone. It took all of five seconds for Aubrey to take a giant bite of the head of the gingerbread man. “Are you serious?”

“It was too tempting.” Aubrey explains, crumbs fall from her mouth and green frosting decorates her lip.

“You could wait two more seconds?” Shayne laughs, snapping a photo of the girl’s off-guard face with her decapitated gingerbread man.

She shakes her head back and forth, the curls on her head moving with. “Shouldn’t have left me alone with these cookies.” Aubrey shrugs, eating the rest of it.

“C’mere.”

“What?”

Shayne drops the bag of colored frosting on the counter taking a step closer to her girlfriend. Aubrey had this glimmer in her brown eyes that made her knees knock. Tracing the slope of her nose with her eyes and the sharp line of Aubrey’s jaw.

Shayne’s hand meets Aubrey’s cheek before nudging the corner of her lip with her thumb. “You have frosting on you, dummy.” She sucks the bright green frosting off of her finger, before mushing Aubrey’s face to the side.

“Wait, wait.” Aubrey urged. Her hand reaching for her girlfriend’s wrist and pulling her back.

She slides her hand behind her neck and pulls Shayne into a kiss. Lips softly meshing together as her mouth sucks at Shayne’s bottom lip. They hum as they pull apart, frosting from Aubrey’s mouth staining their lips.

“I like spending Christmas with you, Shay.” Aubrey admits, kissing the girl’s temple.

The admission makes Shayne smile like a school girl and she snakes her arms around Aubrey’s waist, the material of her button up pjs riding up just barely.

“Same time next year?”

“Absolutely.” Aubrey nods eagerly, dipping her head to plant kisses across Shayne’s jaw. “Y’know what else I think?”

“What?” She sighs, slowly getting distracted by the feeling of her lips.

“You should let me eat another cookie before we go to bed. Know what I mean?”

Shayne snickers at the insinuation, pushing her hands to the athletes chest. “And this is when I walk away from you.”

“Shay, c’mon!”

paige and jolene’s christmas eve 🎄

“Kissing underneath the tree. I don’t need no presents girl, you’re everything I need.” justin bieber 2011

“Ma, c’mere!” I call out, stand in front of Jo and I’s tree with my hands on my hips. The pines were decorated in white lights and gold ornaments, Jolene put on some candy canes on it too.

She trudged into the room, her thick socks softly padding against the ground with each step she takes. She wears a plaid onesie, her recently straightened hair tumbling down her shoulders.

“Hmm?”

“I wanted to show you sum.” I reach my hand out for her and she takes it, stepping over the stack of our presents and over to me.

Confusion covers her face, I can assume she’s regretting leaving me alone in the living room with our tree. “Should I be nervous?” Jo laughs, pushing her hair behind her ear. “You know I don’t do surprises.”

“I know.” I nod. She hates surprises, mostly stemming from her hatred for being left out of the loop. “It’s not anything major, I just want to get all sappy and shit.”

She smiles that addicting smile of hers that makes my whole body feel like it’s on fire. I almost forget how long we’ve really been together when she looks at me like that, because every time it feels like I just met her when It’s really been years.

She drops our hands, instead wrapping an arm around my waist and leaning on my shoulder. “Show me.”

I reach behind the tree, looking for and spotting the sphere shaped ornament. It’s clear, a collage of images of the two of us filling the space.

Jolene lets out a gasp as she looks at it, and I remind myself to tap myself on the back for my unofficial gift to her.

“I’ve spent every Christmas with you since we were in eighth grade.” I say, letting the ornament spin on my finger for her to see every image. “It’s crazy, ‘cause we grown as hell now.”

She laughs, “yeah, super senior.”

“Chill out. I’m getting sentimental.”

“You’re right, my fault.”

I point a a random picture before looking at it. “This was my first Christmas in D.C. You flew all the way out there to see me, and I remember telling my dad that I thought our Christmas streak would be broken and then you showed up.”

“I’ll always show up.” She murmurs, following my finger with her eyes.

“Then there’s last year in Minnesota. When we got snowed in, but I swore I wasn’t gonna go without spending my day with you.” The memory flashes in my head of how hard she laughed when she opened her front door and saw my body completely engulfed in snow.

“You walked two and a half blocks for me.” She reminisces along with me before taking it into her own hands.

“I guess what I wanna say is that, I can’t imagine not spending the holidays with you, Jo. This ornament represents all the Christmases of the past, and I wanna keep doing it ‘til I’m fucking 90.”

“And what happens at 91?” She asks. Jolene takes it upon herself to hang it up on the perfect spot, conveniently right where there was a gap between the other ornaments.

“I might be able to go a few more years after that.” I shrug. “You’re my gift every year. Ion need shit else as long as I have you. You’re everything I need every single year.” I admit.

Her smile illuminates in the lighting of the Christmas tree and she cups my cheeks, pulling me down to her height and kissing me without any more words. There didn’t really need to be anymore words, everything that was left unsaid was understood.

It’s so damn tender, soft and sweet like I’ve never felt before. Even after nine years of being able to call her my girlfriend. She licks at my bottom lip, parting them before slipping it into my mouth.

“‘M gonna marry you one day.” She mumbles into my mouth, and I nod, gripping her hips in an attempt to keep us both from falling into the tree.

I pull back, but not before placing another slow peck to her lips. “I love you, Jo.”

“I love you too, 5. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, mama.”

[notsodailycake]

Man, it's so disheartening to keep seeing the twins from whatever media you enjoy be shipped. Especially being a twin myself, it's just so discouraging and makes me feel uncomfortable sharing anything related to me and my twin

It just got me sitting like

[spaciebabie]

How do you sketch and draw so well?!

I wanna reach your level of skill, are there any tips or videos/guides that helped you a lot?

FIRST OF ALL THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMENT?? RAAAAAAWRRRG IT MEANS A LOT

erruh ill try my best ta give advice (although i still feel like i have a lot ta learn) i wrote more than i thought i would so its under the cut ^v^!

ermm i mean im entirely self taught (if it wasnt obvious) so my artist journey has basically been me looking at other artists artstyles, methods of coloring and drawing, etc. and adapting them in my art when i see something i really like.

i used ta watch a lot of speedpaint videos as a kid and those are honestly really helpful for figuring out how artists do specific things. for example: when i was 14 i watched a speedpaint done by an artist i looked upta and noted their use of layer settings ta make certain colors pop and i have used their method ever since! dont be afraid ta experiment and draw inspiration :]

i have watched a lot of videos and followed tutorials on how ta do specific things such as anatomy (lots and lots of anatomy...), shading, perspective, etc. although i mostly look at those when things dont quite look right and i wanna improve. i dont really have any specific recs for tutorials? for me tutorials can be a hit or miss (seems like a 10/90 hit or miss instead of 50/50 sometimes ._.). my most basic advice is ta break things down inta shapes! cubes are the easiest shape for me ta understand so breaking things down like that has helped me a lot! ALSO REFERENCES. USE REFERENCES THEY HELP SOOOO MUCH FORREAL ONG BRAH. DONT BE AFRAID TA TRACE OVER SOMETHING TA FIGURE OUT THE SHAPES IF YOU CANT JUST SEE EM AND PULL EM OUT (but also only do this for practice, dont trace over things and then post em and say they're yours thats theft) AND LOOK AT LIGHTING TOO AND HOW IT TOUCHES CERTAIN OBJECTS DO SOME STUDIES ITS GOOD FOR YA (<- sucks at doing studies b/c he gets bored of doing them really easily)

a note about sketching: something i know a lot of beginners struggle w/is using too many strokes. it happens when you're unsure of a specific thing you're drawing and i do happen ta fall inta this from time ta time, although i try not 2 as much as possible. an example of me on a good sketching day is this rabbittrap i drew:

i use very few strokes here! and am not afraid ta overshoot my lines. compare it ta this drawing i did months ago:

and you can tell i was having trouble in certain parts b/c of the heavy amount of strokes i used. it takes practice but sketching w/out using as many strokes is a surefire way ta make your art seem more dynamic and less ridged and also save time! remember, you dont hafta detail out every last thing in your initial sketch. save that for later!

[lipglossanon]

April Showers

Real Dad!Leon S. Kennedy x real daughter!reader

A Little More Savory tier commission from @ao3-rex1223

Word Count: 2365 (I went over! 🫣)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, DEAD DOVE, father/daughter incest, nicknames, dirty talk, kissing, shower sex, grinding, nipple play, breeding kink, lactation kink (mentioned), unprotected sex, creampie

Proofread ✍️

The weather app on your phone is nothing but a filthy liar. 

“Sunny with a partly cloudy afternoon, my ass,” you mutter out loud. 

“What was that, sweetheart?” Your dad glances over to you, the downpour soaking his hair until the fringe lay flat on his forehead. 

You keep your eyes firmly above his neck, a Herculean feat since you wouldn’t mind following the water as it drips down his shirt—nearly opaque now and showcasing his mouth-watering pecs. It’s been a stupid, invasive thought that you can’t shake since moving closer to home after graduating. Your dad’s been helping you out around the house, fixing things up, and during one of those times, you accidentally stumbled on him half naked in your bathroom. 

It really wouldn’t have been a big deal; he got covered in some kinda gunk from cleaning the gutters and decided to take a shower before heading back home. Not thinking about it twice, you opened the door to hand him a towel, only to be met with his flexing back muscles and tight ass. He’s been haunting your dreams, whether you wanted him to or not. 

Since then, you’ve been keeping a catalog on what makes him so hot; suffice it to say, the brain rot hasn’t abated in the slightest. 

“Oh, nothing,” you sigh. “How much longer til we make it back to the cabin?”

He glances down at his smart watch, the small face bright in the gloom. “GPS says about another quarter mile.”

Groaning, you tip your head back, raindrops smattering across your face and down your neck. “Who’s bright idea was it to hike today?”

Leon grins, "Believe it was you this time, squirt.”

Trudging forward, you shake your head, “Yuck, you know I hate that nickname.”

“Come on,” your dad needles you, laughing at your sour face. “It’s cute.”

“Uh huh,” you roll your eyes, then gesture to the trail in front of you. “Following your lead here, pops.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves his hand at you and steps out in front. “Make your old man slug it out first. I get it.”

Rolling your eyes again, you give his broad shoulders a light push, meaning it solely as a joke—something you’ve done a thousand times before—however, because of the sudden deluge of water, the trail is nothing but a slippery, muddy mess, and he loses his balance. 

He begins to fall backwards, and you try to catch him, but it’s a moot point; he just has too much weight on you. Both of you crash down onto the ground, Leon sprawled on top of you, leaving you both coated in mud. Wincing, you try to raise up at the same time Leon turns on his side, and you end up pinned underneath his body. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you valiantly stifle the whine in your throat. It’s unfair to have your hot dad pressing you into the ground, pelvis to pelvis, while mud and leaves are seeping into your clothes. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he laughs a little deprecatingly as he finally hoists himself up, stretching a hand out toward you. “Guess we’ll need to clean up in the outdoor shower.”

Heart tripping over itself, you nod, “Sure.”

Turning his back to you, he curses under his breath, “Good thing it’s insulated, huh.”

Head dizzy at the thought of seeing your dad strip down in front of you, you can only cough out a strangled yep. Shooting a look over his shoulder, you smile tightly. 

“Must be a frog in my throat,” you joke weakly. 

It’s enough to make him grin and chuckle. 

“Well, Kermit, let’s get outta here.”

“Does that make you Miss Piggy?”

“Har, har, aren’t you funny?”

“Learned from the best.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, only broken up by the sound of rain and your trampling footsteps. Making it back to the cabin, you follow behind your dad as he walks to the lean-to built onto the side of the building. A shower stall’s setup alongside the house, protected from the elements by the sheltered roof. Glancing at it, it doesn’t seem like a lot, but it's fairly spacious inside with a little shower bench. 

“C’mon,” Leon nods his head at the stall, kicking his boots off and starting to unbutton his jeans. “We’ll both hop in in our undies and get clean in one go. Save time, so we can get started on dinner and warm up.”

You feel faint, blood surging hotly through your veins. “Um, s-sure. Quick and easy, right?”

He chuckles, “That’s the spirit, squirt.”

Arousal dampening a smidge from the silly nickname, it revs back up when he turns his back to you and bends over to take off his jeans and socks. Biting your lip, you press the dough of your thighs together, eyes drinking in his toned form. Once he’s down to his briefs, he steps into the shower stall, holding the door open as he cuts on the water. 

“Hurry it up, sweetheart, haven’t got all day,” he sing songs. 

In no time at all, you stand next to your dad wearing only a sports bra and boy shorts, brain overrun with thoughts of his half naked body. You bite back a gasp when his hand comes up to press between your shoulder blades, ushering you into the shower. He steps in behind you and shuts the door. 

It’s wide but not very deep due to the bench. As you both try to rinse off, you’re rubbing up against your dad in an almost obscene way. You really aren’t doing it on purpose, but he finally grabs you by the hips and stills your movement with a cut off groan. 

“Dad?”

“Sorry,” he mumbles behind you, fingers gripping you tightly as he lets out a breath. “I didn’t—it’s been a while and just—that’s no excuse, ‘m sorry.”

Your heart beats a staccato in your throat, and you rock yourself back, ass brushing against his stiff cock. 

“Oh, dad,” you whimper, and he inhales a sharp breath. “That’s so hot.”

He doesn’t stop you from pressing your ass fully against his chubbed cock, grinding back against him with a moan. His grip shifts, and he guides your hips into a rhythm that makes your toes curl, knowing your dad is getting off to this just as much as you are. 

“Daddy,” you whine, reaching one hand over your head to drape over his shoulder. “Touch me, please.”

His hands move from your hips to drag along your sides until he’s groping your breasts through your flimsy bra.

“Take it off,” he tells you, voice thick with lust. “Show daddy these tits of yours, baby.”

Slick floods the gusset of your panties while you eagerly strip your bra off, dropping it to the shower floor with a splat. His hands immediately grope and squeeze your breasts, fingers tweaking and tugging your hard nipples.

“Daaaad,” you moan, hips rocking back against his while he plays with your tits.

“Hang on,” he mutters, one hand disappearing, and you hear him shift behind you. Glancing down, you see him kick his underwear off to the side, making you whimper.

“There we go,” he sighs, slipping his cock between your thighs. “Mmm, so soft. And..”

He trails off, and you feel him guide his cock up to rub against the outline of your cunt. “So wet, baby. S’this all for me? What a dirty girl.”

He coos the last sentence in your ear and you melt against him, keening low in your throat. “Daddy, please.”

He pulls back and turns you around to face him; your dilated eyes rake down his body, taking in his thick, dripping cock. Leon yanks your panties down, and you step out of them. 

“Pretty pussy,” he groans, fingers skating along your slit, smearing slick along your cunt and his fingers. 

“Dad,” you tilt your head. “Kiss me.”

“Baby,” he rumbles in your ear, and your hands grip onto his biceps, pulling him into a wet kiss. 

He slips his tongue past your parted lips, groaning as he licks into your mouth. You’re so turned on, it feels like your brain is melting from your ears. Leon ruts between your thighs, cock dragging precum all over your pussy lips, parting your slick folds to nudge against your clit. 

“Want it,” you pant, pulling away. “Want your cock.”

“Yeah?” He drops his hand down to grip the base of his dick, guiding the tip until he’s pressing against your hole. “Want daddy to stuff your pretty pussy?”

“Please, please, please,” you chant under your breath, eyes wide as they watch him tease the tip in and out of your fluttering cunt. “Dad, please, I wanna fuck you.”

“God,” he groans, sinking halfway into your snug pussy. “Take it then, sweetheart, since you want it so bad.”

“Yes, yes, oh, fuck,” you moan and whine, hands gripping his shoulders but making sure to keep your nails from scratching him up. No need to give your mom any suspicions. 

Once he’s buried completely in your wet heat, he grabs your thighs and picks you up. Without pulling out, he walks you both back so he can sit down on the bench. Your knees settle on the outside of his thighs, letting you sink down on his cock until the tip kisses your cervix. 

“So deep,” you slur, that pinch of pain making you clamp down on his dick. “Daddy, no one’s ever been this deep.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, hips snapping up, making you squeal as he knocks against the opening to your womb. “This sweet pussy’s never had a dick this big?”

Shaking your head rapidly, you sling water everywhere, “Nooo.”

“Goddamn,” he bites out, pulling you into a spit filled kiss. “Gonna dick down my little girl like she deserves.”

“Uh huh,” you mumble, kissing him between all your little moans and pants. “Give it to me, daddy.”

“Gonna let daddy breed your little pussy, sweetheart? Hmm?” He teases against your lips, warm palm cupping your lower belly. “Put a baby right here if you let me cum in this soft pussy, cream you nice and deep.”

Shuddering, more slick leaks from your cunt, coating his cock, while your nails claw at his back, totally forgetting about not leaving any marks, “Dad, y-you can’t—we shouldn’t, it’s bad.”

“So bad,” he simpers, kissing your neck. “But doesn’t it feel good? C’mon you know you want it. Let daddy stuff your sweet cunt, baby.”

Nodding, you kiss him, sloppily making out underneath the shower spray. His fat tip drags against your g-spot on every thrust, fucking you better than your last boyfriend by far. It really shouldn’t be this good between father and daughter, but now that you know how sweet this forbidden fruit truly is, you never want to stop. 

He pulls away to mouth kisses across your jaw and down your neck, nipping at your pulse point. Drooling, you pant and gasp, knees digging into the tiled bench of the shower as Leon pounds into your clenching heat. 

“Fuck, pussy’s so much better than your moms,” he grunts, fingers digging into your hips. “Like this tight hole’s made for my cock.” 

“Daddy,” you whine, and he groans, biting down on the swell of your breast. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He slows his pace, dragging his cock in and out of your cunt in deep strokes until you’re writhing against him. 

“Want it fast,” you pout. “Please?”

“Don’t like being teased?” He chuckles, pressing a kiss on each of your nipples. “Let daddy play with you a little, sweetheart.”

Clit aching, you rock yourself against him. “But dad—“

“Shhh,” he nips at your stiff nipples, and you whine. “Just let me enjoy it. God, you’re so sexy.”

Pussy fluttering around his cock, you whimper, and he groans in satisfaction. “You like that? Yeah, best little pussy daddy’s ever had.”

He fucks you slow and deep, cock pumping in and out of your pussy while his mouth and tongue tease your nipples. 

“Just think, if you let daddy knock you up, these gorgeous tits will be full of milk.” He bites your nipple roughly, a sharp pleasure that makes your pussy flutter. “Then daddy would have to help milk these fat tits every day.”

You hump down on his cock, thighs burning as you fuck yourself faster and harder against him. “Oh, god, dad, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Fuck,” he groans, moving a hand between your bodies to strum across your senstive bundle of nerves. “Little clit’s so fat and slippery, baby.”

Keening, you thrash against him, arousal building higher and higher until it’s all white noise in your head. “‘M so close.”

“Cum for me, let daddy feel this little cunt squeeze his dick,” he coos. “Be a good girl and cream all over my cock.”

He pinches your clit a little harder, and it’s enough to snap that band wound tight in your lower belly. Your climax hits you hard, pussy squirting slick as your walls clench over and over while you shudder and writhe in his lap.

“Oh fuck,” he chuckles in disbelief. “Squirt’s more than just a nickname, huh?”

Thighs twitching, you slump against him, muscles too weak to keep you up. He wraps his thick arms around you and begins to pound up into your sopping wet pussy. 

“Gonna cum, oh fuck, gonna nut in your hot little pussy, oh, oh, yeah, take it, gonna knock my daughter’s fat pussy up, breed your sweet little cunt,” he babbles against your neck, cock throbbing in your fluttering walls. “Oh, fuuuck.”

He buries himself to the hilt, shooting rope after rope of hot, thick cum inside your puffy cunt, letting your snug pussy milk every drop. He doesn’t pull out when he leans back and takes your chin in hand. Leon tugs you into a soft kiss, the sweetest one that you’ve shared thus far. 

“Let’s go inside and continue this,” he nips your bottom lip. “We’ll worry about the consequences later. Daddy hasn’t had enough.”

He palms your belly, “Gotta make sure it sticks, too.”

A dull throb echoes through your cunt, “Okay, dad.”

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Hai^^ I love your stories so much and I was wondering if you could make one about 80s slash x reader? And how the reader’s parents and slash’s mom were friends and forced them to meet each other?

When the reader sees slash - she kinda into him and the more she stares at him the more attractive gets and slash is a bit older than her and finds her funny and weird as he notices that she’s been staring at him the whole time during dinner.

It isn’t until they’re left alone that they start talking to each other and slash makes playful gestures and teases towards her? With smut and fluff of course :P

I hope that’s not a lot^^ anyways whenever you get the time^^

A/n: I wrote this in class and barely finished so the end is kind of shit

Warnings: smut, arranged marriage trope(ish), if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

I think I’ve used this before but no I didn’t bc I said so

Ever since you were young, around twelve, there was always this pressure to be with someone, relatives coming by and asking where your boyfriend was. It was annoying and you couldn’t get away from it.

Your parents only got worse as you got older, inviting friends over with suitors. Annoying old men shoving money and power in your face, none of it was ever for you they just wanted to show you what they had. They didn’t care about you.

This dinner was just like any other, you had to get all dressed up to meet some guy your parents knew. He’d be old, creepy and wasting away, just wanting someone to bed whenever he wanted, someone to beat, who he could show around town as he pleased.

You were in your room, getting ready as per usual. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, pristine and proper, white floral dress and golden makeup. Just once you wanted to do something bigger, something harsher.

The doorbell rang and you were called down to meet the guests. You say yourself at the table, ready to meet the next suitor to leave.

A woman walked through, she was gorgeous and had a beautiful smile, behind her came a man with bigger hair than his mother. He shared those big, dark eyes, full lips, but he didn’t smile. He wasn’t dressed up all fancy, he wore jeans and a leather jacket over a Ramones shirt that was torn up and well loved, to say the least.

You weren’t allowed to listen to the Ramones, devils music you were told. This man was the devil incarnate and you were certain he’d be the one to take you away.

Your mother sat down next to you and placed a hand on your knee, leaning into you. “Don’t you dare go looking at this one all puppy eyed, I gave you good men you will not be falling for this monstrosity.” She said through gritted teeth, but her warning was moot, you’d already made up your mind.

The dinner went as every other did, your mother would ask questions and listen closely to the answers, except she didn’t. She didn’t care what this man, Saul was his name, had to say.

You sat idly by and ate, gaze flickering over to him all too frequently, he was sure to notice but he didn’t bring it up or look back at you.

His voice didn’t match his appearance. He was soft spoken and only spoke when told to, he rarely looked up from his plate and when he did he didn’t make eye contact.

Saul Hudson to be wed, you could see it in the papers now.

“I play guitar in a band.” He said, it broke through your day dreaming haze.

“You-you play..?” Your mother sputtered out, unable to even finish her sentence.

Saul nodded, a wide grin on his face and he looked up at you, still not making eye contact. His gaze flicked from your lips down to your shoulders, you didn’t dare guess where else he was looking. “Big band, Guns N’ Roses.” He clarified. “Playing stadiums now.” His mother smiled proudly over at him.

You wiped your mouth on a napkin and stood, quietly excusing yourself from the table. The food was gone and what was left needed to be packed away now anyway, you were just leaving it for other people.

You went to your room and sat down at your desk once more, staring at yourself in the mirror. Something new filled you, you wanted his attention, all of it. You wanted to run with him, to venture with him. He’d take you all over with his band and he’d love you. He was gentle and he wouldn’t hurt you, he wouldn’t flaunt his money, only buy you jewelry for your birthday and flowers when he loved you, just because.

You dug through your drawers and tried to find something… big, a statement piece for your face. Your attention snapped to the door as it opened and Saul walked in.

He was hesitant at first, staring at you bent over a desk drawer and digging through it like a mad man. He came over and stood just beside you, placing a hand on your lower back as he looked through the drawers for you.

Saul pulled out a deep red lipstick. He brought a finger under your chin and tilted your head for him to see you properly.

You were struck, in your core a pulse came with a heat, a desire, but you snapped out of it quick enough to wipe the gloss you already had off your lips so he’d have a bare canvas to work with.

He smiled down at you and got to work, using the tip yo outline your lips before filling them in.

You looked back at yourself in the mirror, Saul now stood behind you with his hands on your hips. He didn’t look in the mirror, he stared at you in front of him, the side of your face and how pleased you seemed with his work.

You turned back to him. “Do more.” You asked, drawing a chuckle from him and he shook his head, by god you made him laugh and you wanted to hear it again and again for as long as you lived.

“I don’t know anymore.” He said, bringing his hands to your shoulders and turning you around again. He leaned down to you, his lips caressing the shell of your ear. “You do it, you can’t mess up when it’s just gonna be running down your face in a minute anyway.”

You paused a moment and looked back to him. “Why? Will you make me cry?” He nodded confidently, you looked back to the mirror. “Why would you do that? Will you leave?” You asked curiously.

“More than one way to make someone cry.” He said, rubbing your shoulders. He inhaled deeply, taking in your saddened expression, you clearly didn’t get what he was referring to. He’d just have to show you once you looked the part, well enough the part anyway, you didn’t have the clothes.

“Heavier on the eyes.” He said as you tapped on a bright red, something to connect the lipstick while still being different. You picked up your pencil liner but he took it from you and had you turn towards him. “Gimme a second.” He said with a smile, being careful to not poke you in the eye as he worked.

He was giggling when he turned you back to the mirror. You had a leopard print on your eyelids and whiskers on your cheeks. The print on your eyes was pretty, neat and well done, the whiskers were an afterthought he was enjoying much too much.

You stood up and turned to him, placing your hands on his shoulders. “It’s perfect!” You exclaimed, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, he couldn’t say no to that.

He wasn’t a gentleman, not by a long shot, he was just sweet. The first chance he got his hands were on your ass, pulling your dress up over your head and not caring if he smudged it, not one bit.

Your arms went around his neck and he lifted you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist while he carried you to your bed and laid you down.

He was laying over you, an arm holding him up by your head, his other hand moved down between your legs, rubbing through your folds and catching your clit, feeling how wet you already were for him.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” He asked, already starting to trail kisses up your jaw towards your ear. You hesitated before slowly shook your head, hoping it wouldn’t make him stop. Luckily he didn’t and just sucked his teeth. “Well, I don’t feel like slowing down for you.” He said sitting back up and undo his jeans, pushing them down just enough for his dick to spring free, of course he didn’t wear boxers. “Just tell me if it hurts.” He said as he pushed into you, groaning as he did.

Despite his words he did give you a minute to adjust to him, running his hands up and down yours sides until he felt you were ready and he started moving, slow at first but he couldn’t keep that pace for long.

His hands gripped your hips tighter, tugging you closer to him as his hips slammed into yours, each thrust bringing you closer to an edge you’d never seen before.

He was perfect above you, full lips, bruised just like yours, parted ever so slightly in soft, low grunts and groans. Sweat clung to his curls just around his face, the rest of his mane framing his sharp jaw. His teeth were crooked and he didn’t look right at you, focusing on feeling good, making you feel good.

You didn’t have anything to compare it to, but this was definitely the best you’d ever felt. Free, and it felt so good. You reached down and found your clit, rubbing it in circles.

Saul chuckled over you and nodded in approval. “Just keep doing that, keep doing that.” He said. You could feel him inside you, veins dragging against your gummy walls, cunt pulling him in for more, every time he pulled away you sucked him back in.

You melted into the mattress, vision going white and when you came doing from it you felt something warm spilling out inside you, Saul’s face tucked into you and he kissed over your chest, latching onto your nipple and swirling his tongue around it.

Finally he pulled away and pulled away and sat up, fixing his pants before heading out to your balcony. You saw he was smoking, he just looked so… you couldn’t even describe it.

You got your dress back on and went out to stand with him.

He smiled at you when you came out, he held the cigarette out for you but took it away before you got the chance to get it. “No way in hell am I letting you do that.” He said with a laugh.

You sighed and leaned your head on his shoulder. He glanced down at you as he took a drag from his cigarette. “It’s pretty tonight.” You said.

He nodded, looking out on the cities lights below. Your house was up on a mountain, giving you a good view all around. “I bet it’s a pretty night for you every night.”

You smirked up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you live here, you see it every night.” That’s not what you were expecting.

You looked back out to the city. “I want to see more… with you, Saul.”

He let out a heavy sigh, he wanted you with him too. You were intriguing to him, you needed a chance to rebel and he knew you would never stay with him, not after growing up like this, but he could be the one with you to see the world and that was enough. “Slash.” He said. “If you’re coming with me you call me Slash.”

“Slash.” You repeated. “Slash Hudson.” He might regret this, but he didn’t care. In that moment, he didn’t care about anything.

[what-have-i-unleashed]

chasing infinity

@howlsofbloodhounds for you my most enabling moot. i think this is way harder to write than anything i've written before so...

shamelessly ripping off arrival (2016) and story of your life. go watch/read it!!

(cw: suicidal ideation, abuse)

chara is about to turn their back on me as they excitedly go on and on about another game that they've thought of. i want to imprint every detail of this moment in my mind. the cadence of their cheerful speech, the unsuspecting smile on their face, the weight of my knife hidden in the sleeves of my jacket.

this is it. this is when it will all change. an end of a story, and a beginning of another one.

years from now, you'll have heard of this moment recounted by me. we will be sitting in a cafe at the corner of a small street as i finish my story. i will laugh at the gobsmacked expression on your face, and you'll splutter, your rainbow-colored flames sparkling like fireworks.

"what type of story is that?" you'll ask me.

"a tragedy," i'll say, sipping on my piping hot milk coffee. "as life is wont to be."

you'll argue that reality is not a story with a definitive end, and i'll humor you. i can't help but wonder though, what the genre of our story is. i've been wondering for a while. i know how the story will end - i've known for a while. in thousands of you's and me's out there, our story repeats itself over and over again, but i don't think i was, am, and will be tired of it. i wish i could tell you about our story some day, but we'll never have the chance.

i haven't understood how to feel about it, and i doubt i will ever do either.

i guess it is cliche to start the story at the very beginning, but maybe it is warranted. it was disorienting - the moment of birth. the softness of the golden flowers enveloped me, but it was small comfort in the face of the pain shooting across my body. everything about it felt wrong - the broken joints, the hollow face, the nakedness. and yet, it was right.

people say babies are born with limited eyesight that develop slowly after time. but i am doomed to forever be cocooned in infancy - a broken prototype of a being, just good enough to be allowed to exist with the rest of the world.

chara didn't mind me. "hello, partner," they said to me, minutes after i started to exist. i couldn't see them, only able to hear to voice so close to my head. "are you ready for the rest of your life?"

the secret is, i'm always ready. like that one time your friend delta will begrudgingly invite both of us to a hangout, i'll grab an umbrella on my way out. delta will look at me strangely.

"it's scorching today. what are you taking an umbrella for?" he'll ask.

"killer often has a sixth sense when it comes to unexpected things," you'll chime in for me. "and it doesn't hurt being prepared."

delta will squint his eyes at me, who will sport a not-so-innocent smile. "really?"

"really," you'll say before i can say anything, knowing that i'd cause a scene just outside the door just to rile the hotheaded skeleton monster up. "let's just go now, shall we?"

we'll leave our house that we'll have chosen together just three months before. the food at the bar that delta will bring us to will be just average, but you'll enjoy the atmosphere too much for me to say any disparaging comments. we'll sit together in a secluded booth - just the two of us - listening to terrible music and watching as the first snow rain fall down on the street. your hand will hold mine as i'll put my head on your shoulders, finally still.

waterfall is chara's favorite place to visit after new home. there is that one statue in the rainy corridor that they like to visit from time to time, most of the times without me. it is easy to tell that is a weakness to look into, but for some reasons i always refrained myself from doing so. too late now anyway.

like usual, chara took two umbrellas in the bin but neither of them was for me. i was ordered to leave them for an indefinite amount of time, and of course i had to be productive during that free time: finding flowey, finding the remaining survivors, finding new ways to entertain chara.

i went to the echo flower field this time. the usual scripted dialogue lines repeated themselves over and over across the field. i was trying to find anything new, anything that would indicate another change in this game, in this script, that would intrigue chara. this time, i found one.

"hey, do you think we're stuck here forever?"

"why would you think so?"

"... i don't know. it's just a feeling i have lately. everything's been too much."

"... yeah, i understand what you mean. but hey! maybe this won't be the end! maybe we'll get through this." a strained laughter followed. "come on, you're such a pessimist. it's good to practice some radical optimism once in a while, you know?"

"maybe. it's just difficult to have hope when everything is so, well, hopeless." silence. and then, "if you knew this would happen, what would you have done differently?"

"hmm i don't know-"

"-maybe i'd have tried to visit people i love more. tell them what i feel before, well, this happened."

"that's all you'd do?"

"like i said! i don't know what i'd have done. you're the one randomly asking me this!"

"mmmm sorry..."

"hey, no need to apologize. i know you're just as anxious about this as i am."

"don't want to make you feel sad, habibi."

"i'm not. being with you, it's the best thing to happen to me. i wouldn't have done anything differently."

it will be a full four years after we start to live together that you say the word. and i'll freeze. the world will stop as if waiting for what i'll say back to you.

"i love you too," i'll say, and you'll beam, arms carefully hugging my smaller body. i don't know what emotions i'll be feeling at that moment. logically, happiness. most likely, guilt.

i'll be thinking about what i think right now, and i'll laugh at it.

the medics will tell me that it is an inevitable conclusion of your condition, that they are extremely sorry for me to hear this. i'll tell them it's all fine, that i've expected this. and i'll know they won't believe me.

i know illnesses like i know my own body and soul - there's no difference between them. i remember the way the insides of my body burned for the first time, the agony, the delirium. it felt wrong, but it was so right at the same time. this was how i was supposed to be - this is how i will always be. and i've accepted that a long time ago.

chara once used my body as a flower bed. strangely, it was one of the most peaceful game they played with me. just lie there in the dirt and play dead - easy enough. the way the dirt was deposited into my skeleton frame was uncomfortable, but thankfully not painful. chara has always been interested in gardening, but they lack the patience for it. but this time, as they said, this time they would get it right.

"what do you want to grow?" i'd asked them before all of this, as i prepared to lie down in the pit i'd dug for myself with my bare fingers. it'd taken a long while, and my fingers were all sore and dirty by the time i was done.

"buttercups," chara hummed. "i miss them around here. asgore never has them anymore."

i didn't question how chara knew. i didn't question why they cared. i just accepted the answer as it was and plopped my body beneath the dirt. chara had taken care to put my soul somewhere else. somewhere safe. it was nice of them to do so, i thought.

my body, with all its needs, was nothing but a burden anyway.

i don't know if being with you will fix me. i don't know if you care about it. i don't understand you, truly. i wonder if i will.

but i don't have infinite time to think. the world doesn't stop when i languish in thoughts. i'll have infinite time later, but never now.

so i'll remember this moment - this last moment between me and a dead child who has been here for too long. i knew this would happen, that everything would come to this point. and then after this, there will be more to come. there will always be more to come. so i hold my knife above chara's head as their back is fully turned. after them, there will be another, then another, then another, then one day it will be you.

i can't wait to see you.

[physalian]

Bringing Characters Back from the Dead Without Pissing Off Your Audience

I don’t know if there’s an emotional rollercoaster out there quite shaped like an audience bawling their eyes out over the death of a beloved character and the livid and bitter turnaround that comes when that character comes back to life in the most ridiculous and lore-breaking way possible.

So, TLDR, some suggestions, not rules, depending on your genre and tone armor and not all for a single story, cherry pick as you please. If this is a kids show or a comedy where “death” is a nebulous concept anyway, ignore this. This is more for dramas.

The point of a good character death and revivial boils down to this, imo: Does doing so serve the character, the story, and the themes? Killing a character should be as big of a moment as un-killing a character, as long of a road as it took to get there should be as long or longer as it takes to get out. Otherwise, you just did it for shock value and everyone noticed.

DO:

Establish that revival is even on the table at some point well before this character dies. The smaller the gap between “hey death is optional” and “oh look, it’s the fan favorite in peril”, the less likely your audience is going to feel all the intended gut-wrenching emotions.

Have the dying character completely unaware that this might not be a one-way trip, even if the audience does. The entire cast might not have any clue, but the audience knows because Character Who Knew Too Much revealed it before they died. There is a time and a place for “I’m going on a suicide mission but I secretly have a contingency plan to cheat death” and it’s very hard to do it well.

Demand some cost, either from the dead character or the person/thing/deity that saved them. It should not come without consequence. Either they’re permanently emotionally scarred, physically scarred, are only back for a limited time, or somebody else died to take their place, etc. If revival has no cost, then death has no meaning.

USE IT SPARINGLY GODDAMN

Let the character be as shocked and horrified that they’re not dead anymore as the audience is ugly crying at their return. If the narrative shrugs it off, it’s going to feel cheap.

Let the characters doing the reviving be unsure if it'll even work. If both the characters and the narrative believe bringing them back is a foregone conclusion, you lose out on a lot of tension on if it's all for moot.

DON’T:

Keep killing and reviving the same characters with the same sad music and the same funerals and day-drinking and expect the audience to really believe it’s for realsies this time, CW.

Keep pretending to kill off characters but they’re actually fine

Pull it out of nowhere and try to bend the plot in post as if this is actually a good thing and not manipulative writing

Controversial but: warn the entire audience ahead of time, for many, many books, that somebody’s gonna die and it’s gonna hurt, and then say “nah just kidding” at the end.

Revive them too quickly. Death is a powerful, dramatic event for the dead character and all those who survive them. Unless it’s like a drowning situation where the character takes a few more seconds to gasp awake, let the story stew in the aftermath properly, otherwise—why kill them in the first place?

Some examples:

Gandalf—This one’s a funny one because it doesn’t establish that death is optional. Gandalf “dies” and then Boromir dies maybe 45 minutes apart. Thing is, though, that Gandalf is a 3000 year old wizard and Boromir is just a dude. Two Towers also begins by replaying Gandalf’s fall with added context so you’re already primed with “well that must be important, his character is still relevant”. The movies certainly have their share of fakeouts, but characters who are meant to die (Boromir, Theoden, Theodred, Denethor) stay dead. Gollum is just made of silly string I guess and invulnerable to high falls, unless they’re into lava. Gandalf isn't the hero, either, his job isn't to save the world, it's to make sure that everyone else saves the world. If Aragorn fell fighting the Balrog and showed up out of nowhere in Two Towers, it would cheapen the whole victory when the gods can just say "nope you're not dead, cancel, undo button" but not smite the orcs for them.

Jon Snow—oh look I’m actually praising GoT for once. He dies in season 5 and comes back at the end of episode 2 of season 6 after a whole campaign of seemingly futile magic and the heroes giving up hope. This series is full of graphic and pointless deaths. The hero getting stabbed seven times in the chest in a mutiny isn’t out of left field at all. But back in season… 2, I think? The Hound comes across a dude who can’t be killed, who attributes that to this Lord of Light deity. The same deity that Melisandre (the witch who brings back Jon) also worships. It’s proper set-up, proper time spent mourning him with a whole break between seasons, proper build up with the impact of his death, and proper consequences once he’s back, dude isn’t the same and I will always miss his fluffier hair.

Leo Valdez—I have no idea if I’m in the minority here but back when Heroes of Olympus was being published, the fandom had five whole years to argue over which of the seven heroes was going to die. It was all over the walls. Yes, this is a series about mythological creatures with gods and gods of the dead and even Death being captured to stop people from dying. “Character cheating death” didn’t come out of nowhere. However. Even though it was properly established, the series spent five whole books promising that somebody was gonna die, and then Leo comes back because the Prophecy didn’t read the fine print. I liked Leo, but I cannot stand chickening out of killing a character and this was one hell of a deus ex machina when the whole last book was a misfire.

The Whole Vampire Diaries and Supernatural—everybody knows the CW is allergic to perma-deaths. There’s infographics out there calculating how many times Sam and Dean and Cas have died. I know more about the background to TVD so herein lies the issue: The creator was allergic to change of any kind and apparently the actors didn’t have the best relationship with her because of it and other reasons. Her characters fell in the same cyclical arcs because who they were in seasons 1 and 2 is everyone’s favorite iterations of their personalities, so they can never have proper arcs with real growth. TVD was a serialized show written like it was episodic, so nothing, not even death, was permanent save for a few characters here and there. Death lost all meaning, the writing was manipulative constantly expecting audiences to believe it this time, and the lore kept breaking each time they did it with new excuses to bring somebody back.

*Gaara—I don't actually remember it super well and his death pissed me off more than his revival but I want to add it anyway. How they brought him back, with Granny Chiyo sacrificing herself for him and him being utterly shocked that anyone gave a shit to bother rescuing him was great, no notes. Even better because I belive Chiyo was like "it's alright I can fix him" and everyboy but Naruto realized that doing so would cost her her life. I just hated how they showed you Gaara dying ~20 episodes before anyone got there to save him, meanwhile the heroes were dicking around fighting their shadow-selves instead of just... running away? They didn't know he was already dead. The lack of urgency for all parties involved, in a show that's legendary for its shit pacing, promptly ruined any chances of me watching it past that arc. But, the revival was well done, so. Have a Gaara.

—

And then you’ve got way on the far end of ass-pulls, characters like Palpatine, heroes in soap operas, or shows in their 11th season that have already checked out or know it’s dumb and don’t care how dumb. It’s the nature of the beast. It’s hard to get mad at them for the single sin of undoing death when they probably already have a hundred other problems.

[fallow-hollow]

Aaa! Your Kabru x reader was really nice! May I request a Holm x Reader where the reader helps him when he freezes up in rapid situations?

pick-me-up

…ft! holm kranom x gn! reader

…tags! pre-relationship, fluff, a little banter, reader knows some magic, some magic lore i may or may not have made up

…word count! 1167

…notes! people who are madly in love with side characters are truly god’s strongest soldiers. i hope i characterized your man correctly!!

As close as you and Holm were, neither of you really seemed to idealize one another too much. Being in the dungeon, you had to be aware of all your teammates’ strengths and flaws, regardless of personal opinion. When it came to the gnome you called your closest friend, even he didn’t deny it — he did not operate well under pressure.

Considering that you were in a place where foes could ambush you at any moment, anybody could see why this wasn’t a great quality to have. From being unable to save your friends to even being unable to save yourself, there were a lot of potential consequences to locking in place during the middle of combat. Something had to be done about it sooner rather than later, and if he had to ask someone, he’d rather it be you than anybody else.

The plan was formulated during some downtime the party had — something to stop Holm from going stock still whenever he felt overwhelmed. Luckily, your companion already had an idea for you.

“I figure the easiest way to deal with this’ll be using magic.”

You nodded. Not much of an obstacle, since you already had at least a few spells under your belt.

“As long as you have a rudimentary understanding of magic, it’s not gonna be too hard to get down.” For a moment, the gnome deliberated, wondering how to explain the concept to you. “You know how healing magic can hurt sometimes?”

With a grimace, you shook your head in understanding. Rin and Holm were pretty good about that sort of thing, but there had been more than a few occasions in past parties where healing and injury hurt even more than obtaining it. Seeing that you were familiar with what he was saying, the man continued.

“Well, that’s actually how healing magic is by default. When it doesn’t hurt, that’s because the caster is using a separate spell to numb your sensations.” As you listened, your mouth formed a little ‘o’ shape to show your interest. “Naturally, you can alter people’s sensations with magic in other ways, too.”

“Oh,” you would interject, “so I could use magic to make you more….focused?”

“Not quite, but yes.” At your approximation, he held up his index finger. “I was thinking you could use just a little bit of mana to sort of perk me up, almost like a spike of adrenaline to set me back in motion again.” His hand then lowered, turning over so his palm faced upward. “It’s pretty simple, just transferring mana through touch like you would with a healing spell.”

“I can do that, no problem!”

Ah, he was still looking at you, even after you said that… was there still more he wanted to share? When your eyes wandered down to the hand he held out, embarrassment that you hadn’t realized sooner quickly washed over you.

“Ah, you wanted to practice?” At first, you feared that your slow uptake had caused Holm some annoyance, but the relaxed smile on his face didn’t give way in the slightest. He seemed almost amused, really.

“Guess I should have been more clear about that, huh?”

The smirk on his face let you know that the question was most certainly rhetorical. Answering it would have been a moot point anyway, so instead you pouted and mumbled, “You’re always so snarky with me… not fair.”

Transferring mana was something you were fairly familiar with doing, so you were able to take the gnome’s hand into two of your own with little hesitation. Back when you’d just joined the party, the act of touching him made your cheeks heat up, but exposure to it over time had made the experience far from unfamiliar.

Just remember to envision the flow of the mana, you reminded yourself. Truly feel it, from your head to your toes, through your veins and bones, and out the tips of your fingers. Feel the current connecting you to him…

With your eyes trained on your joined hands, half lidded while you chanted the spell as instructed, you hardly noticed the way your companion’s ears actually twitched and perked up when the incantation was completed. Only when his whole body jolted did you shoot up in turn, concern pooling in your irises.

Said concern seemed to be unneeded, judging from the pleased look on his face. It was one that brought you relief, not just from the knowledge that you’d done well, but from the sight of him alone.

“That’s good, I think you’ve got it.” Even his voice seemed cheerier than before, and you weren’t quite sure if it was from the magic, your success, or both. Nonetheless, it was kind of nice to see his usually laid back demeanor become more enthusiastic from time to time. “So remember, the next time I get stunned in an overwhelming situation, use that if you’re near.”

“Of course!” You grinned, knowing you’d always be neat if you could help it.

That little practice session with Holm had been a few days ago by now. It took quite a while for a situation to actually arise that called for your little backup plan, but you most certainly kept your word.

Perhaps if it was just one stray suit of living armor, Rin or even Daya would’ve been able to dispatch it just fine. But in a whole hallway full of them with no way around, you could only tiptoe past them in hopes that maybe they’d ignore you, or even end up just being normal suits of armor. You should’ve known, of course, that the dungeon is no place for wishful thinking.

When the intimidating armored figures inevitably sprung to life, the first thing you did was look to Holm. Unsurprisingly, he was completely still by your side, eyes blown wide and mouth hanging open while he didn’t even shake or quiver.

Just do what you talked about. Transfer the mana as quickly as you can. You may have taken the latter half of that a bit too seriously judging by how, instead of taking his hand like you had during practice, you immediately reached for his face instead.

Only halfway through chanting the spell did you notice the slight tint on his cheeks, likely from embarrassment, and it took everything you had in you to continue the spell without stuttering from your own flustered state. After all, restarting the spell would take even longer, and that was pretty much the exact opposite of what was needed right now.

The second the spell had been completed, the both of you pulled away from one another, invigorated by both magic and embarrassment respectively. You heard Holm utter a quick thanks to you, but you were too busy feeling completely mortified by the way Kabru had just glanced at the two of you, seemingly more entranced by your interaction than the imminent peril you were dealing with.

You’d never hear the end of this, would you?

[jolalibrary]

i wasn’t sure if I wanted to say something or not. but, I saw the post that @moonlitbirdie did here with the addition from @tonysopranosrobe and I guess it inspired me to be a little braver with my honesty.

because at the end of the day, this is my blog? it’s my thing I’ve taken and nurtured, and watered and made my own.

so lemme start with I’m aware it is humanly impossible to be everyone’s cup of tea, and I do not expect to be. but before the last week or so, I’d naively thought that if I wasn’t, those people would bow out politely from my life/space.

but that blog showed me that isn’t the case, and that sucked.

there are far more adjectives and words I’d love to say to describe my feelings on that blog and that situation. to describe the hurt and the sadness I’ve felt, not just for the words said about me but about moots, friends and others I see in the community I love being in. but I think I would never stop talking and we all have lives.

so I’ll get to the point of what this is.

normally, I wouldn’t address things publicly, but this time I want to put my foot down, to say a few things.

I might seem more confident in recc’ing myself, but that isn’t because I was faking it before. instead, it’s because I have good people in my life, and good friends who I might not have had before taking the time to let me hold some space in my life. who have reminded me that it’s okay to toot my fucking horn sometimes, and it doesn’t make me a bad person even if it feels bad.

they remind me that it’s okay to celebrate with cake when I finish a series I’ve worked really, really hard on. and those same good people are also ones who politely and virtually slap me when I begin talking shit on myself, who have helped me begin to forge a better relationship with the warring voices in my head—the writer who wishes to write and the girl with no self esteem who wishes to crawl into a ball each time she posts.

next, I know for some, it may have seemed like I was okay. that the normal posting on here was it running off my back like water. but it wasn’t. it was hard to come into a space where it felt like people hated me, and where people would send in asks about other people I’m friends with or care for or know. because even if it’s only a few asks, it feels like more, because I don’t know who is screenshotting and agreeing with it. and once you begin tumbling down that thought-cliff there’s no stopping you.

again, I’m aware I’m not perfect. i make mistakes, I try to learn from them, and I do not expect to be everyone’s fave person. but anon hate is not a thing I’d wish even on the people I personally dislike, and I’ve had it on and off pre that blog appearing. I’ve deleted and deleted, blocked and reported, and then that blog came and then it was out there, and I could do nothing. I just had to stare and read it, had to hope that people knew who I was.

and look, I say none of this for sympathy, but more an acknowledgment that not everything that stands past the ground shaking is stable. that people don’t always know or feel able to ask or share that they’re hurting. and then it’s isolating, it’s dark and it’s fucking lonely.

which is what leads me to my final thing, which is thank you. thank you to every single person who has reached out to check if I’m okay, to offer the option of a vent or a thot, and the ones that have even just sent love hearts. and also thank you to those who have thought about sending something to me or instead disputed or reported that blog.

I know on the post above by birdee and commented on by han mentions about checking in with people, and I just want to echo that point so loud. if you’re unsure what to do it this happens again (maybe not even now - god I hope - or in this fandom, but in the future) from someone who was mentioned, it’s check in.

similar to han (you worded it perfectly and I’m going to butcher it) it validated how shitty I was feeling, it allowed me to feel okay taking space to be mad and to be sad, because someone else was agreeing it was wrong. those things seem easy on the surface until your North Star has gone, until your upside down and topsy turvy. and if you’re reading this and thinking “bit fucking dramatic jo” then I ask you to kindly unfollow me, no hard feelings, or anything.

because in my eyes, anyone would feel a little disconcerted when their hobby doesn’t feel safe or provide the same comfort it did. when your hobby is the thing you look forward to, and then you can’t enjoy it because there’s a thousand thoughts running around and it feels so anxiety provoking. and yeah, I know there will be people who will go “it’s just tumblr” but I’ve been here a while, this isn’t my first rodeo here, and I just never wish for anyone else to feel like this. ever. no one deserves the hobby they love to be tarnished by shadows that shout and spew things, that you can’t fight back against, because you don’t know who they are.

but kind voices eventually break through and smother the unkind ones. they do. they have.

and I know for me, those check ins and messages brought me comfort when I needed it. they helped.

so if you’re unsure what to do, take comfort that a little love does help. it isn’t magic, it doesn’t fix it all, but it does make a difference, and that matters too.

[pickmedolls]

𓉸ྀི ݁ ˖ ◜ PICK ME...OR SHOULD I SAY YUE & KIKO @ FICFEST '24 (WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?)

Despite being listed as official guests and even confirmed for a performance, the hottest group of the moment, Pick Me, was a no-show—well, sort of. This year’s FicFest Awards (@thatsofic) only saw two of the group’s members: leader Feng Yue and main dancer Kiko Mori, both there just to present awards. So, where were the other three? And why were Yue and Kiko strictly forbidden from mentioning Pick Me, not even to introduce themselves in their interviews? We’re all itching to know the truth, so let’s dive into the latest gossip, shall we?

First things first: as most of you already know, rumor has it that Pick Me is set to have a comeback in the next few weeks. But given all the chaos surrounding the promotions for their last mini-album, DOLL SUMMER, and the infamous drama between Yue and two of her members, Rosie and Jules, it’s no surprise Heartbreak Entertainment might want to keep Pick Me out of the limelight for a while—especially at a huge, high-profile event like FicFest.

What started as unproven accusations now seems an undeniable reality: there’s some serious friction (or dare I say, bad blood?) between certain members of the group. Not that it's entirely a bad thing, though. This shows the girls as real people with real personalities that, apparently, clash more than Heartbreak would like. But here's the thing: this inner tension is starting to take a toll on the group’s general image and promo work, and even Heartbreak Entertainment—famously lenient and transparent with their idols—seems to have finally hit its limit.

So, was keeping them out of the spotlight really the best move? I mean, look at us now—still talking about them, all because the full group didn’t show up at the awards.

But hey, as they say, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth! Even though Pick Me’s absence as a full group was definitely felt, Yue and Kiko totally held it together at the awards, avoiding any major drama and, shockingly, sticking to the Pick Me ban—well, mostly. The duo arrived together, both dressed to the nines and effortlessly stealing the spotlight from some of the nominees.

They rocked the red carpet, stopping to chat with Cleo and answer some fun questions, and snapped some photos at the photocall. Throughout the ceremony, they sat side by side, singing and having fun during some performances, while also mingling and taking selfies with other idols at others. When it came time to present their awards, they both delivered memorable moments. Yue dazzled everyone with her signature charisma, and Kiko was as sweet as pie, practically glowing when she handed the award to none other than the girls from Venus.

But you know what they say: a picture is worth a thousand words, so imagine twelve (three of which are high-quality videos!). Let’s dive into the girls’ posts!

YUE+FINN COLLAB (@bluwavez)

There’s nothing Yue loves more than putting on a good show, and what better way to do that than by posting a pic with none other than the officially recognized and award-winning it boy, Finn Lee? And what a photo it is! They’ve completely broken the internet with their posts, and fans are absolutely thrilled about this iconic duo. Don’t be shocked if you start seeing this particular pic as the profile photo of your Twitter moots—I've done the same.

Oh, I almost forgot! This pic was taken during EVERMORE’s performance. Very on brand for Yue, I must say.

CHIT CHAT WITH CLEO (@hausofanya)

Yue has decided to share a sneak peek from her interview with Cleo. Think of it as a little teaser before the full interview drops! While we don’t know exactly what she was asked, here’s what Yue had to say in response: “It is what it is, right? Not everyone has taste. But don’t worry, there are plenty of other awards we’ve been nominated for, and I’m sure we’ll win some of those.”

Okay, I guess it’s not too hard to guess what the question was. But what she said! Don't forget to vote for Pick Me in all those other awards we all know about.

BEHIND THE SCENES

This third photo is pretty self-explanatory. Just take a moment to appreciate her beauty and her talent for looking effortlessly gorgeous in every shot!

OUTFIT APPRECIATION

According to Yue herself, this stunning dress is from Fancì Club. It’s not the first time she’s collaborated with this brand, which has become such an essential part of her identity as an artist. It’s just so Yue! The color, the shape of the dress, the flowers—absolutely fabulous!

#YUKO 4 EVER!

You can't have a recap of the night without a pic of our two dolls! Once again, the photo speaks for itself. What’s interesting, though, is that unlike Yue, Kiko hasn’t posted any photos with her friend and leader. I wonder why.

...ANTIVILLAIN'S HANSE? (@disgracefiles)

I have to admit, this photo has left me the most shook of the six. Here we have none other than one of the hottest boys of the moment, Choi Hanse, who just so happens to be Jules’s ex-groupmate from 2LUVU. So, I guess it shouldn’t be a shock that these two know each other and seem to get along. Or should it? Given the recent tension between Yue and Jules, things are a bit muddled—especially with that half-heart gesture Yue is throwing at him!

PINK (BY PINK) MENTION

I love this little clip of Kiko's outfit! Since there's no audio, I’ll share the transcription of Kiko's response to Cleo about the dress: “I’m wearing Pink by Pink. It’s my groupmate’s very own brand, she’s literally so talented! We worked together on this dress for the last month, and I couldn’t be happier with the outcome. I think it’s so me, and I really like that.”

PD48 REUNION (@snspice & @ratedstar)

No, this is not a drill! We’ve had a Produce 48 reunion at these awards, and it was absolutely heartwarming! If you found yourself tearing up when you saw it, you’re not alone—I did too! It happens to the best of us.

Several clips have captured Kiko, SNS' Nami and Jellib's Jooe wandering around the event, hand in hand, beaming with joy. This particular photo was snapped on the red carpet, right after Kiko and Jooe sprinted over to Nami, who was busy posing with her group. They enveloped her in a hug filled with laughter and happy tears. I adore these three so much, they hold a special place in my heart!

SHE'S JUST A FANGIRL (@venusvity)

Despite everything, this has to be my favorite photo. No, your eyes aren’t deceiving you—it's a pic of Kiko holding a snapshot of our favorite it girl, Baebi. But it’s not just any photo; it’s signed! Rumor has it that Kiko approached her during one of the commercial breaks at the awards and shily asked her to sign it right then and there. Witnesses say the interaction was absolutely adorable, and Baebi was the sweetest, even inviting both Kiko and Yue to the after-party that Venus was hosting after the awards. Kiko is truly a ray of sunshine and must be protected at all costs!

EVERYONE'S FAV PRODUCER (@allta1k)

Not surprisingly, here’s a photo of Kiko with her favorite producer and friend, Heidi from Girls Talk! At this point, we all know these two get along fabulously, but fans have been over the moon to see this picture. They both look stunning and so happy to be together! Speaking of the possible future comeback of Pick Me, could Heidi be behind the upcoming songs? We certainly hope so!

BOO BORING!

There’s not much to say about this photo. Just an attempt at an aesthetic shot from the moment Kiko presented the award for Best Discography. Boo! There were a thousand ways to make this picture more interesting, but hey, nobody's perfect!

MORE PD48 (EVERYBODY SAY THANK YOU KIKO)

We’re wrapping up this multimedia recap with a little clip of our three Produce 48 girls sitting together at the start of the awards. Emphasis on "start" because they later had to sit in their respective spots with their respective groups. Still, they gifted us plenty of cute moments throughout the night, from knowing glances exchanged from opposite ends of the venue to sweet little chats during commercial breaks. It’s clear that for Kiko, the highlight of the night was reuniting with her friends. Isn’t that just adorable?

[boba-beom]

a real update — semi hiatus announcement and life update.

as you all know–and have seen–that I’ve been on here just posting random things here and there, I’ve not been in the best mentality to write, and I hardly interact because I already feel so distant to my moots and everyone in general.

tw! personal issues, thoughts of 💀 myself, mental health in general

the past year has been rough on me in terms of family situations and although I have been using tumblr as an outlet for me to distract myself through the past few months, I have been trying to communicate better with my family members and resolve issues that’s preventing us from being a somewhat functional family. because everything has been so unhealthy and I fear it’s affecting me to the point I genuinely need help. I’ve had more occasions, recently than ever, where I’ve thought of what would happen if I disappeared for a day? maybe more? would people be happier that way? would they even realise? and when I felt like almost acting upon those thoughts I’d sob and think rationally about everything. I care about everyone too much to do anything to harm myself, and I want to find help.

just recently I’ve found out that I’ve been too honest and comfortable with people I thought were doing the same, only to figure out that it’s not like that at all. that people I deemed trusted me, would actually stab me in the back. and yet I still decide to be open and honest with them because I thought eventually they would do the same. I guess I’m just too hopeful for my own good.

for the longest time I’ve been looking for a job, and for the longest time I’ve been wanting to see a doctor or go to therapy. but again, that requires money— anyway, I’m sharing this because I feel like I need to be honest. I’m not purposely ignoring anyone when I’m tagged in works, or when I receive asks, but also because things irl have been problematic that I just don’t have time to sit and write.

and as much as I have been trying to write when I can, it’s just slower than I anticipated. like I’m incredibly excited to share what I’ve been working on, but I feel like the time is never right. I will not be active or hardly on tumblr for the unforeseeable future. I am on discord if anyone really wants to talk to me, but I’ve deactivated my socials to give myself some time to focus on myself. I fear that if I continue with this mentality I am not as genuine as I want to be.

now, I didn’t write up this for a sob story, or for pity or attention, but just I hope anyone reading this takes care of themselves always. your mental health is important and finding help the best way you can is the best choice. I need to find like alternatives to therapy where it’s affordable too, even online or something. but yeah, that’s all I’ve wanted to say.

tl;dr : I will be taking a break for the unforeseeable future while I work on personal matters

Take care and please don’t forget me!

- Smiles ᡣ𐭩

[gammaraydeath]

I'm curious about your take on turian speech and how they'd speak without their translators after your reblog 👀

OUGHH ok i'm a lil nervous answering this i'm always worried someone's gonna look at my hcs and go "you are so SCHEWPID" LOLLL 😔

i really like to lean into the avian aspect of their appearance and extrapolate their speech from that. i think they are capable of being sonorous and pleasant to the ear, and equally capable of sounding kind of scary. in that audio, the way it sounds is like... i don't know enough about language and speech, but it sounds like a lot of air is being expelled from the voice actor's cheeks if that makes sense? it sounds really fleshy. guttural "kh" sounds from the back of the throat are good, imagining an angry turian making scary noises like that is good, but i think i'd want either more of a metallic twang to it, or a deeper rumbling to accompany it. i also like the idea of incorporating more sounds than just speech - clicks, trills, stuff like that. there's a song that i like, terrorbird by author and punisher, which has this weird throaty "uruk" sound repeating in the beginning, and it makes me think of scaly dinosaur throats expanding and contracting to produce this sound. mimicry too is another hc that i like; reproducing other sounds, to an extent. i love the idea of them incorporating foreign words into their languages - loanwords from salarian or asari cultures that are said as-is, not translated. of course, with the use of translators in the first place, maybe that's sort of a moot point. but thinking of a turian mimic a human word, repeated in that sort of metallic, distant, through-a-bad-quality-speaker filter like when parrots mimic speech is really endearing to me.

when it comes to everyday, conversational speech... chattery and lilting i guess. to use the dinosaur example again, i love the sound design in videos like these. not exactly this, but something like it. if you could envision this sort of vibe over a song-like pattern of speech that uses lots of vowels and k-sounds.. i mean, we know some turian words. armax, cipritine, palaven. a lot of these sounds require lips to say so i always think it's not a 1:1 translation. if you listened to garrus say "palaven" with the translator on, and then again with it off, you'd hear two very different things. it's the translator turning completely alien sounds into the closest human-pronounceable equivalent.

[edensrose]

˚◞❀˳ a proper farewell

god that title sounds dramatic as fuck so let me just clear things up immediately: no, I'm not leaving tumblr, I will still be very manageable to reach and interact. what I am drifting away from is the tolkien fandom — and since this place, despite my hardships, has meant so much to me - I decided to give it a proper little farewell, to the people who made everything count. along with a little explanation for my decision while shedding light on my experience. ( I'll try to be brief )

I joined the tolkien fandom while writing for thranduil, it's here I gained my following in the fanbase and things went quite smoothly. however, upon beginning to write for mairon, then melkor and then later the ainur — I saw an increase in hate anons. something I have experienced before, natural of a multi fandom blog, but never to this degree. initially I assumed it was because I was simply growing larger as a blog, and perhaps that is the reason — but from what I noticed, I was battling with a bunch of chronically online people who simply could not handle my love for. . . "problematic characters"

I never understood it, really. I never saw other ainur blogs getting the hate I did - I guess I'll truly never know. had I done something? was my writing just not good enough? were my vibes off? over the time I've been called things like two faced, fake, a romanticiser of abuse, lazy for not filing out requests, been told I shouldn't write reader inserts, told to kms and other graphic incidents ( such as people sending death threats and actual gore to my inbox ). this branched from burner accounts to anons, and I could just never understand why me. a quick gander at the #clownon tag and you'll find some of the instances in which I've been harassed.

I genuinely thought my writing was the issue.

which demotivated me from writing for quite some time. could I have turned anon off? sure, but that would have meant that the anons I'd frequently interact with would most likely not come around anymore. it meant a decline in requests, it meant just a crippling factor to my blog in general, so I chose to ignore. but it got hard to eventually. I was bullied for liking a god with big wings just because for crying out loud.

I've tried to fake being okay. fake being strong and unwavering about the hate, but I just couldn't anymore. and that's okay.

it wasn't all tears and hardships though. I have made very good friends through the tolkien fandom, many of which I consider close. from @bluezenzennie to @kiatheinsomniac — @a-contemplation-upon-flowers , @cilil , @someoneinthestars and so so many more. it'd take me forever to tag and honestly my heart is squeezing so much listing these few down already. they made fandom fun, whether it was our silly little play fights or collabs or you name it. those of you that have spent time to tell me about your day on anon or send in the nicest of things. I haven't forgotten them, and I cherish them, but it's time for me to go

am I sad? fucking of course. a part of me found so much comfort here and in these characters. I've spent hours on end developing lore for aus or designing aesthetics for writing — just writing and pumping out content or blogs, everything and anything I could do. and while I don't regret those times - the way I've been treated in response hurts. which is why I've made this decision.

I'm growing as a person too. I'm writing a book now, I've got an oc blog to promote that book that I'm working hard on ( @valentine-cafe ) , things are looking good. does this mean I'm just gonna disappear? of course not. I plan on staying around, getting back into request writing ( for other fandoms ) and still interacting and supporting my tolkien moots and friends. will I be writing or creating content for tolkien? probably not. at least not in the foreseeable future. the characters I once loved and cherished have now been ruined for me. I've been made to feel embarrassed for loving manwe and namo to the degree that I have, and I don't see myself being able to write for ainur without thinking of all the shit I've gotten for doing so.

regardless, I'll be here still. and while I might not be your local valarfucker anymore, I hope to be your rose still 🩷 thank you so much for two and a half years, I love you all dearly

[tossawary]

Hi! Just wondering, for you what is the difference between transmigrating in as an infant and regaining memories of your past life later, and transmigrating in as a character who a bit older but remembering the past of the character you’re in? I guess it’s kind of moot considering he still feels the weight of both those lives either way, but I was curious about your thoughts on it.

Hey! I think this is a pretty complicated and broad question. Overall, as with any story, there are different ways to write both of those things, different directions to explore, which could make them feel very different or functionally identical. My personal feelings on this can change wildly from story to story, and character to character. SPOILERS for SVSSS.

Let's say that Airplane Bro is the first case (reincarnated as an infant and gained his memories of his past life on the way) and Shen Yuan is the second case (transmigrated into an older character's life and later unlocked some of Shen Jiu's memories). Just to use their particular situations to look at some of the practical realities. I know that it doesn't fit precisely, but it's useful to have examples.

I think that a big element here is personal life choices and personal relationships. Airplane never has to feel like he replaced someone else. He's Shang Qinghua now, sure, but there was never an Original Shang Qinghua in this world. Being there from the beginning, he's been able to control his actions and responses, and build his own personal relationships. His relationship with Mobei-Jun, for example, is entirely his own.

(We don't actually know how much the System interfered in his life, but he does seem to have a degree of freedom that's much more significant compared to his fellow transmigrator. The vibe I got by the end of the Airplane Extras was that the System probably would have let him do whatever he'd wanted if he'd really gone for it, honestly.)

Shen Yuan, on the other hand, knows that he replaced someone else, and Shen Jiu had a miserable life and then made some cruel choices. Shen Yuan has to bear the burden of things he didn't do, even if other characters are willing to sweep it under the rug of amnesia, which has permanently colored his relationships with Luo Binghe, Yue Qingyuan, and Liu Qingge. (The System then forced him to do something terrible to Luo Binghe, whom he loved very much. At the very beginning, it temporarily controlled his every single interaction with any other human being during the OOC restriction period. That's just fucked up.) By the end of SVSSS, Shen Yuan fully inhabits the new Shen Qingqiu he's created and has made peace out of the story he's been given and the relationships he's inherited and made his own, even though he owns a life that partially belonged to someone else (Shen Jiu and the System). He has to live with that history.

Rambling on about Airplane Bro for a little bit to take a look at these two different approaches from another angle...

I typically imagine Airplane Bro slowly regaining his memories over the course of his childhood, because I personally can't fully suspend my disbelief over a fully conscious adult in the body of an infant. I mean, I've read that kind of thing before, and some of the stories have been good. But brains just don't work like that. Newborn babies are such little fragile aliens, barely able to see the faces less than a foot from their face. It's important to me to physically ground fantasy (and sci-fi) somewhat to make magic (and tech) feel both believable and compelling. This is a personal nitpick.

(You could have the reincarnated/transmigrated mind/soul being held mostly separate, slowly integrating, and essentially controlling the body remotely, I guess? But yeah, the "adult stuck in a child body" thing inherently has powerful horror elements (and political elements in regards to children's rights) that a lot of reincarnated stories seem to take on unintentionally and don't always handle well. When I'm writing reincarnation stuff, I usually skip over that backstory stuff in part because it's just so complicated, and also because there are other plots I'd rather explore that I find more interesting. Getting bogged down in early childhood stuff generally isn't really my thing, reading or writing it.)

If Airplane is essentially haunted by the memories of his past life for his entire childhood, I think it would make him strange, unnerving, and generally unpalatable to other people. I think it would be confusing and scary to know things without being sure how you know them. To remember things that seem to belong not only to another life, but another world. It would contribute to his isolation, his emotional detachment, and his choice to identify strongly with his previous life in terms of personality.

And if it's a more gradual process, then he doesn't have to feel like he replaced someone else. He knows (as much as anyone can know anything) that this body has always belonged to him.

If he suddenly remembered a past life, then that would also lead to his detached Airplane Bro personality. But if he suddenly remembered a past life, depending on how you write it, it might feel functionally identical to transmigrating in in that moment but still retaining the body's memories.

Of course, even if it was a gradual process, depending on how you write it, it could seem to him that it was a gradual transmigration and that he replaced someone else. Both approaches are cool.

Transmigration and reincarnation must be such a disorienting experience, liable to make a character doubt reality or their "sanity". When a character transmigrates in but has access to the body's memories, there's often some plot device dream sequence (the transmigrator briefly gets to meet the ghost of the person they're replacement) or System interference to let both the character and the readers know that there's been a switch. What if there's no System popping up to explain exactly what happened? What if the character just has to guess based on these vague memories that they may or may not be able to tell came from another person?

Either way, transmigrators are usually dealing with feeling like an imposter. But I think the transmigrator generally might feel guiltier over taking up or ruining any pre-existing relationships if they know for a fact that they replaced a separate person.

Back to some physical practicalities between our two transmigrators in SVSSS... Airplane Bro has just had... more time to get used to his life here. Coming in as an infant, presuming a gradual adjustment of awareness, he's used to his own body. He's at home in it.

SVSSS isn't fully interested in exploring this topic, so we don't really see Shen Yuan dealing with it, but... suddenly being in a different body would be a WEIRD experience. I can handwave away a lot of brain stuff on "magical System weirdness", so sure, Shen Yuan's mind is somehow his own while retaining some Shen Jiu memories, and he has special muscle memory and spiritual memory that allows him to continue being a powerful cultivation with only minor adjustment.

But... what about things like taste buds? The physical human experience is so wildly varied. Humans are incredibly adaptable, but surely it would be weird at first to potentially have different favorite foods. To like different drinks. To maybe enjoy different smells. To dislike things you used to love. To be a different height. A different weight. To be far more physically fit. To have different teeth. Personally, I move slightly differently and have slightly different mannerisms depending on the length of my hair, having to keep longer hair out of the way. Shen Yuan would adjust in time, sure, but that dysphoria must've been something else at first.

As someone interested in these physical realities of magic, I was a little disappointed when none of these came up more extensively when Shen Yuan switched into a body made out of a plant. I think that even little things like breathing and sunlight would feel intensely different. I'm now tempted to write something exploring Shen Yuan enjoying the sensations of his super magical plant body now.

Okay, I don't know where I'm going with my rambling now, so I'm signing off. I think the weight of different transmigration experiences can feel very, VERY different depending on what you're personally interested in exploring when you write.

[max1461]

Scattered thoughts on "let's have a universal language for the economic benefits".

So like, ok, some object level considerations: languages are not dying out (mostly) in favor of English. Like, English is not naturally becoming a universal language. Languages die out in favor of local majority languages, and there's hundreds of those. I feel pretty confident in saying that the only way to achieve a universal language within a couple of centuries would be some sort of highly authoritarian set of language policies that I think everyone in this discussion is against. So we're not getting a universal language naturally any time soon—in particular, not within the present technological horizon.

I think once we look outside the present technological horizon the issue is probably mostly moot. Like, machine translation is already getting very good. I suspect it will be within my lifetime that the job of real-time interpreters can basically be totally automated, at least outside of particularly high stakes contexts. And maybe in the far future we'll all be a hive mind or some shit, I don't know.

So anyway, I don't think "we're going to get a universal language naturally soon, and that's something that will have large economic benefits" actually stands up very well to scrutiny on the object level. I would bet against this.

Worth noting also that I don't think that at present language barriers are a large source of economic friction in the industrialized world. Like from naive observation that just doesn't seem to be the case. Maybe it is, I don't know. It would be cool if someone had stats on this.

Anyway, I think the large-scale "linguistic homogenization will be really good" thing is probably not likely.

The more thorny issues are local (in both time and space). Being a member of a minority speech community has various economic downsides, and in exchange speakers often report intangible benefits like a sense of pride, a feeling of connection to ancestors, access to works (such as oral or written literature) that are composed in the language, etc.

Obviously I'm a big fan of vague intangible benefits because I'm one of those Gender Havers, and the idea of sacrificing some practical utility in exchange for like, achieving my desired expression is very close to home for me. So I'm always big on defending the value of intangible benefits.

Of course not all members of minority speech communities report intangible benefits. I think this correlates a lot with, you know, ideology, just like gender stuff does. The point is that people have complicated feelings about their relationship with language and you can't always predict what they will be. This is why I compared the ethics of minority language immersion schooling to population ethics questions about ending autism. See that post for elaboration.

Anyway, you could probably predict I was going to say this, but the point I keep coming back to is "languages matter a lot to people, and once they die you can't get them back, so you probably should not throw them away lightly". And when I say that languages matter a lot to people, I don't mean to linguists. I mean like... if you ever listen to someone from a moribund speech community, here in the states at least, the relationship between language and personal identity is something you'll hear about immediately. I've heard some version of "when a people loses their language, they've lost everything" about a thousand times. And like, sure, the concept of identifying with "a people" might not hold much stock for you, but the concept of identifying with a gender doesn't hold much stock for a lot of people. I think it's important to take people's word for the intangible benefits they say they derive from stuff.

So like, I guess the upshot is:

My strong hope is that within my lifetime, redistributive economic policy and the advancement of machine translation will make all ethical debates around language policy absolutely trivial. In the meantime I think it's worth supporting policies that support the existence and continued use of minority languages. Obviously not if it impinges on individual rights—you know, I'm not saying anybody should be forced to speak their parents' language, that's fantastically beside the point.

I'm not just saying this because I'm a linguist and, clearly, find language to have aesthetic value in themselves. Although, you know, I do think that. It's just not the most salient fact here.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

OMG I SO SORRY FOR THE ASK I HADN'T FINISHED IT I WAS ASKING ABT YOU GIVING ME SOME WRITING TIPS AND IT AUTOCORRECTED WHEN I WROTE I BC MY PHONES MESSED UP LIKE THAT AND I DIDNT REALISE OML I'M SO SORRY PLZ FORGIVE ME MOOT PLEASE I LOVE YOUR WRITING I PROMISE ESP YOUR BUCKY FICS AND THAT I'M SORRY

no worries, honey.. i figured that was the case. you want writing tips?? Sure.

Never force your writing. If ideas don't come to your mind, don't force them. It will sound like hell, and you will indeed hate yourself over it. Are you stuck on a scene in your writing? Skip it and write what comes after. The words will come eventually. I can't tell you how many times I was stuck on a scene to write out the following few scenes after, and then the scene I was stuck on came back to me in droves.

Write what YOU love and what YOU want to write if you don't want to write out a request/idea someone sent to you, then don't. You don't need to explain yourself. Don't feel as though you HAVE to accept a request from someone; you'll burn yourself out and hate yourself worrying over the request/idea.

Write about whatever you want to: your favourite character/blurbs. Write new AUs, write angst, fluff, smut, whatever you want. Ignore the antis; every fandom has them, and it's honestly not worth the time and effort. Block the people who try to bash you for writing a character/pairing they don't like. Fandoms are meant to be a fun, safe space. Write what you want, and love every word of it.

Don't proofread ANYTHING until you know you're finished with your piece of writing/art.

Get an extra set of eyes to look over your work, whether it's some stranger on the internet you trust or a person in person who you trust to be completely honest with you about edits/scenes you need to rewrite/whatever else they might ask. Sometimes, when we look over our writing, our brain ignores the mistakes, so get an extra set of eyes.

You don't have to post every day/week/month to be a writer. You're still a writer if only one word gets written/typed daily. Take care of yourself first & foremost. I know writers on tumblr/ao3 that have burnt themselves out writing nonstop, it's not mentally safe to force yourself to write just for a few commetns/reviews/kudos.

Which brings me to Ao3/Tumblr stats. DON'T compare yourself to other writers. EVER. Yes, there's always going to be a fic that's more popular then yours will EVER be. & that's totally fine. Whether you get one like/kudos/comment, or a thousand of them. ENJOY WHAT YOU DO! because guess what?? As they say on Whose Line Is It Anyway? THE POINTS DO NOT MATTER! you're writing for FUN, no other reason!!!

You'll be your absolute worst critic when it comes to your own writing. Don't be too harsh on yourself. The reason why you hate your own writing and think it sucks & nobody is going to read it is because you've read it over numerous times yourself and found it to be predictable; NEWSFLASH, DING DING! It's NOT!!

You will ALWAYS improve your writing. I recently went back to look at a bunch of my own writing from 2018 and noticed how much I've improved since then. Yes, the writing makes me cringe, but that's entirely okay. It means I grew as a writer.

Experiment with Aus that you wouldn't see in canon. I tend to always, always go for a good ole Mafia AU, because, let's face it, guns?? blood?? gore?? but also, fluff?? baking cookies with your lover ay 3am AU?? hellooo?? I never know where my mind will take me when I start a new drabble/one shot.

11. Take your time; don't rush a word out.