#no promises I'll be consistent for all you know this will be my only sketch for the forseeable gestation period

[plexiglassonion]

I'm gonna try coming back to doing art for a bit so here's a little george sketch :)

Alternate colours under the cut !!!!!!!!!!!!!

[burntoutdaydreamer]

Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write

I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)

I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.

1) My first draft stays between me and God

I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.

I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.

Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?

Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.

Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.

If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.

2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen

I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.

Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.

If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.

3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word

My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.

I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.

If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.

Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.

4) Write Out of Order

This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.

Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.

I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?

When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.

Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.

[freemilkshakesposts]

Draw Me Like One Of Your French Girls

⚠️Warning⚠️: Sexual content (18+ MDNI) + mention of cheating!!

a/n: This is pure filth so be warned!!

Levi x Reader (Smut)

Summary: It's strange enough that you never discovered Captain Levi's secret talent for drawing, but even stranger is how readily you accepted his request to sketch your bare form every night. As your captain, you've clearly crossed professional boundaries. Yet, the most significant boundary you've breached is sacrificing a relationship you had built with your supposed partner, all for Levi.

"Would you kindly shift to the left? (Y/N)," he commanded, gesturing with his pencil towards the spot where he envisioned you, a perfect tableau for his gaze to devour.

I complied, leisurely strolling to the designated spot, assuming the familiar pose: sprawled across his crimson red sofa, its plushness teasing my bare skin, while my gaze, heavy-lidded and drowsy, locked onto his tempestuous eyes.

"Perfect, my pretty girl," he drawled, a smirk curling his lips as he glanced at me, his gaze lingering on my form before returning to his sketchpad, now fixated on capturing my essence. Now that was all left in the confined space of the room, the only sound was the scrape of his pencil against the paper, etching the contours of your body with meticulous precision.

It was a routine as consistent as the ticking of a clock. He'd clutch my hand as practice concluded, not asking, but demanding my presence in his quarters, shrouded in secrecy. There, he'd command me to disrobe, offering my form for his meticulous sketches, each stroke etching my essence onto the pages of his coveted notebook, preserving me solely for his consumption.

So strange, I never once dared to challenge his whims. Why? A rational mind would have, but mine, swayed by an irrational devotion, always ceded to my emotions. In those fragile moments with my captain, I entertained the unsettling certainty that I wasn't just an ally, but a possession—undeniably, unequivocally, his.

His gaze lingered on me once more, a smirk etching onto his cold facade. And then, a transformation: his once piercing ocean-blue eyes dissolved into inky blackness.

"You know what, I'm feeling experimental," he declared, setting aside his sketchbook with a casual flick. "I'll give you a choice, but remember, refusing ends it all."

His words, laced with venom, seeped into my consciousness. The thought of it ending was unbearable. I craved his attention, his affection, his validation. I longed to be his muse, his 'pretty girl'.

"I'll do whatever you desire, sir," my voice whispered in the confined space that enveloped us. The walls closed in, suffocating any semblance of resistance. I couldn't bear for it to end. I'd forsaken everything to join the Corps, leaving behind family and a partner in pursuit of the hero's mantle I once coveted. And now, I'd sacrificed even more to be by his side—my principles, my integrity.

"Sit up and spread your legs for me solider."

My eyes stretched wide, almost popping out, tethered only by the veins snaking within my sockets. What in the hell did he just say? Did Captain Levi, my corporal, just order me to-

"You promised to fulfill my every whim, didn't you?" His words sliced through the silence like a gleaming knife through silk.

"I did but-"

"Come on darling, stretch those beautiful legs out for me. I want to draw that prized pussy of yours," his voice oozed with a yearning I'd never witnessed. He craved a peek into that sanctified domain, the territory you safeguard solely for your lover.

Fuck it. I've already relinquished too many sacrifices. I've bared my body entirely for my captain. I've shattered all trust with the man back home, who within these walls, thought I'd be the hero. I'm already damned.

I peeled myself off the crimson-red hairs that clung to my naked limbs, their touch like a devoted lover's, tenderly stroking and caressing my flesh. Then, I positioned myself upright, and once more, scrutinized Levi, attempting to dissect the thoughts behind his eyes. His gaze remained impassive, unflinching. Did he really want this? Or was I merely fabricating the utterances that spilled from his mouth?

Then, the signal I awaited emerged: he slid his chair deliberately closer, his face encroaching on my space, the intoxicating scent of him saturating the air around me. "Atta girl, show me it. Show me your cunt."

His words ignited an unbearable heat, a searing intensity capable of liquefying flesh. This was his method, I deduced-a calculated attempt to break any woman, and goddamn, it worked.

I spread my legs apart, exposing the fortress that shields my most precious possession, a coveted treasure glimpsed by few and touched by even fewer.

This is a grotesque twist, a descent into madness.

What would he think, seeing me in such a compromising position before another man—my captain, no less? The very thought is unbearable, a macabre revelation I can scarcely fathom.

A shiver ran through me as I caught Levi���s eyes fixated on my secret grove , his gaze consuming it with an unsettling intensity. Fascination, allure—these weren't the emotions I'd expect from the cold, stoic captain or the quiet artist who sketched my naked form with detached precision. This was a different Levi, a stranger hidden behind the familiar façade, captivated in a way that felt disturbingly alien.

"Is this what you wanted, captain?" I murmured, each word tumbling out in a fractured whisper, my voice betraying the turmoil within. I'm committing a grave, obscene error—a descent into sin, a plunge into wickedness beyond redemption.

He smirked, a fleeting kiss brushing my temple, before shifting his chair away, carving a chasm of space between us. I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding, an unconscious gasp escaping into the sudden, cold distance.

"You look fucking divine," he exclaimed with palpable fervor.

Rising abruptly from his chair, he was irresistibly drawn to his desk. With eager hands, he yanked open one of the drawers, revealing a long and slender object: a ruler.

What the hell does he need a ruler for? He never used it when he sketched me. Why does he-

"You know," he interrupted, swiveling his body to face me directly. "As an artist, perfection is paramount." He advanced towards me, tapping the wooden tool against his palm. "You don't mind if I measure some dimensions, do you?" His face loomed closer to mine, that damn smirk never leaving his lips.

He's orchestrated this from the start. I should put an end to it now. Any person with a shred of decency would.

"N-no I don't mind," I muttered, my voice barely holding up against his suffocating presence. Damn it, why am I always such a pushover with him?

"That's why you're my muse. Mine." He swiftly knelt beside me, commencing to press the icy ruler against my inner thigh, his gaze unyielding as he meticulously gauged his indispensable dimensions.

This is so twisted. So goddamn twisted. Having my captain-my superior-between my legs, and another man, not my supposed lover, not my partner, but him. Fuck, I'm so sorry. But then again, no, I'm not sorry. I'm assisting with his masterpiece, after all. He only seeks to refine his artistry. I'll do whatever it takes to make it the most beautiful piece ever created.

"Hmm." Levi purred, his vibrations resonating within the claustrophobic confines that isolated us from the outside world. He snapped his head up, locking eyes with me once more. Another glint in those obsidian orbs, and thus, another scheme was born.

He frantically inched the long object closer and closer to that sacred land, his breath ragged with desperation. His face was almost touching it now. I watched his every move, his expression shifting with raw, insatiable hunger. He was ravenous, desperate to devour you until there was nothing left. He was starving for you.

"It smells so good, I wonder if it tastes even better," he muttered, groaning at the thought of his own words.

Levi was desperate-so fucking desperate for a quick taste-his eyes pleading with a vulnerability I had never seen before. Over the years, I had sensed his desire for me, just as mine had simmered for him. It all made sense now: his nightly ritual of drawing my portrait was a prelude to finally claiming me. He wanted to mark me as his own. And I wanted it too. That's why I never questioned his intentions, why I always entered his room with such a skip in my step. I took pride in being part of this filthy act, my captain sketching my naked form. And now, here he was, between my legs.

But then there was him-the man I had woven an entire romantic narrative around, the one I had promised to marry once the world was free of Titans. Had I ever truly loved him?

Reflecting on it now, I realise I never did. The raw, intense yearning I felt for him never surpassed that feeling that I held for my captain. I desired Levi with an all-consuming passion. In those drawing sessions, as he completed each work, all I could think about was him taking me, praising me as his ideal muse, his perfect muse. And now, the opportunity lies before me. I won't waste it. This is what I've yearned for, what I've sought to possess. Finally, I can attain it.

With a sudden, deliberate motion, I brought my mouth to his ear, my breath hot and intense, like the scorch of a furnace. "Go on, Captain," I whispered, my voice laced with a predatory calm. "Taste it. Eat me out until I'm fucking dry and empty."

Those words were the final snap of his restraint, the fragile mask of his role as captain, as a superior. He gripped my thighs, forcing them apart further with a controlled violence, his lips descending to my exposed core, sucking on my swollen clit with a ravenous precision.

"Shit!" I snarled, my fingers entangling in his dark hair, yanking his face closer to my dripping pussy. It was so wrong, so exquisitely perverse, but the pleasure was undeniable, intoxicating. I was pressed against the red walls of the sofa, driven to an internal rapture. His mouth was a relentless, burning brand on my pussy, as if it had been welded there, his lips consuming my swollen clit with a fervor.

It took all my restraint not to scream again, as his tongue traced intricate patterns over the sensitive peak, each flick igniting jolts of electricity through my system. His guttural groans reverberated against me, primal and urgent. He added a finger, then another, both digits curling expertly into that sweet spot, massaging my soft inner walls with ravenous hunger. His tongue and lips moved relentlessly over my clit, each motion pushing me further into an otherworldly abyss. I couldn't believe how close I was.

"Oh shit, oh god Levi-" I gasped, signaling to him, and he groaned against me again, sending electric pulses through my trembling pussy. The pleasure built quickly, the tightly coiled rope in my abdomen unraveling and propelling me over the edge. My thighs quaked, sparks of ecstasy shooting through them, splattering onto Levi's face like paint on a canvas.

I reclined my head against the back of the sofa, allowing the high to wash over me. His tongue, as I had anticipated, was nothing short of phenomenal.

"You did so well, darling." Levi's voice cut through the haze, emerging from between my thighs, his lips glistening with the evidence of my surrender. His movements were calculated, each step deliberate as he settled beside me on the crimson sofa. He grasped my face with a firm hand, forcing me to meet his gaze. The darkness that once swallowed his eyes had receded, unveiling the ocean-blue beneath. "You did so fucking well, (Y/N)," he murmured, pulling me into a ravenous kiss, his tongue invading my mouth, dominating mine. The taste of myself on his lips sent a shudder through my body, prompting me to reach for his belt, only for my hand to be slapped away with a swift motion.

"What the fuck, Levi," I whined. I pressed my lips against his neck, the kisses sloppy and frantic, each one a plea for more. I was the one so fucking desperate now, a mess of need. I wanted him to utterly destroy me, to push me to my limits until I was spent and empty, yet filled with his cum.

Levi rose from the seat beside me, forcefully removing my lips from his neck. "Not tonight. It's late," he asserted, his voice cold and unyielding, his eyes locking onto mine with a fierce intensity that brooked no argument. A flicker of panic coursed through me—had I done something wrong?

"Right, my apologies, captain," I stammered, springing up from the sofa. My heart raced as I scrambled to collect my clothes, a frenzied urgency driving my actions. First, I yanked my knickers up over my thighs, the fabric snapping into place with a sharp tug. My shirt came next—I thrust my arms into the sleeves, fingers fumbling as I hastily buttoned it, each button slipping through the holes with a sense of escalating dread. Finally, I ripped my trousers up my legs, the zip screeching in protest as I forced it to close, the metal teeth barely holding together.

"Thank you, Captain Levi, once again," I murmured with a practised smile, watching the back of his head as he returned his sketchpad and art tools to their designated drawer.

He turned his head slightly, just enough to acknowledge my presence with an indifferent "Goodnight, Y/N." The same flat tone.

It seemed impossible that just moments ago, this man had been between my legs, his mouth working me over with such intense hunger. Had it been a mistake? Had I jeopardised my relationship for a fleeting moment of desperation, craving the warm touch of Levi? Now, he was back to being Captain Levi, as distant and detached as ever.

I moved towards his door, my hand poised to break the seal and release me back into the sterile, indifferent corridors, but there was an unsettled matter—something that should have been addressed at the outset of these nocturnal encounters. Pausing, I turned and fixed Levi with a steady gaze. "Levi," I said, my voice a controlled monotone, "why is it that you insist on depicting me in such an unprofessional manner?"

At my question, he smirked, a predatory glint in his eyes. He advanced towards me, each step calculated, until my back was pressed against the cool surface of the door, trapped by the oppressive heat of his body. "Because someone once told me in order to relax before or after a mission is by drawing things I find beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. Then, without warning, he claimed my lips in a swift, possessive kiss before pulling away just as abruptly.

"Now, goodnight, (Y/N)," he insisted once more, a playful flick of his wrist gesturing towards the door. I hurried to comply, grasping the doorknob and casting him one last, gleaming smile before the door closed, sealing off the view of his serene countenance.

It wasn't a mistake. I made the right decision.

[mytheoristavenue]

OP Usopp x Tailor!Reader - In stitches

Summary: You are the Straw Hat's newest member, their official tailor, and as your first order Luffy instructs you to make everyone new outfits for a event he plans to make an appearance at. This is all fine, until it's time for you to take Usopp's measurements.

Warnings: Fluff, suggestive situations

You sighed happily standing in the middle of your brand new workshop. You felt it was incredibly kind of Franky to build you a space to yourself, wanting nothing in return than for you to mend a few of his Hawaiian shirts. Today was your first official day of work, having only joined the crew less than a week ago. As for your first project, your captain asked you to fashion every member a new outfit to attend an upcoming festival, hosted by an island that the ship will be docking at very soon. You were so excited to get to work as you dragged your gaze along all of the bolts of different colors and textures, before darting over to your desk, instantly sparking ideas and needing to sketch them.

-----

"Thank you for being so patient," you complimented to the ravenette who stood on your modelling pedestal. "I'm still a little nervous to be here."

"It's my pleasure," Robin reassured. "If anything, I should be thanking you, the designs you've come up with are stunning." your cheeks flushed a bit as you took a step back to view the fabric you'd pinned to her, the skirt taking shape with a beautiful royal purple sheen.

"Thank you, ma'am." you beamed, unpinning the fabric, and jotting down the dimensions of her waist. "It's really nice to hear you say that! Everyone here has such a unique sense of fashion, I hope I can do them justice."

"Please, call me Robin," she corrected with a giggle, suppressed by her hand. "And just from looking at these, I can promise you will. You're a very talented young woman." she praised, flipping through the sketch book you'd made all your plans in. "Honestly, I just hope this dress looks as pretty on me as it does in this picture. Hopefully I can do it justice too."

You giggled at her comments, silently wondering if they were all true, or possibly just wishful thinking. "Alright, I think I've got all the measurements I need for the moment. I'll call you back in if I need any more." you excused, checking the wall clock and acknowledging that you still had nine more Straw Hats to measure, all in one day.

"I look forward to it, thank you, (Y/N)." she smiled, waving her hand as she stepped down from the pedestal and went for the door. "I'll send Sanji in."

-----

You wiped your brow, taking a small break, and sitting at your desk to go over your notes. "Let's see," you thought aloud. "I've already done Robin, Sanji, Nami, Zoro, and Brook." you read their names back to yourself, sifting through their individual files, consisting of measurements, and designs, as well as any notes they had on them. "Now I've got Usopp, Luffy, Chopper, Franky, and Jinbe left." you sighed, already very tired, and only half way done with the easy part.

Just then, you heard a very soft knock on your door, and watched it creak open, revealing the long nosed man you'd come to know as Usopp. "Oh, hello, come in!" you chirped, urging him to enter fully and shut the door behind him. "Give me just one moment!"

Usopp did as you asked, taking in his surroundings and watching you bustle around the shop, picking items up and putting them in different places, straightening up papers on the desk, and finally, gathering a new set of things he didn't recognize, and setting them close to a pedestal in the middle of the room. "Come, stand right here." you smiled warmed, patting the round platform.

You frowned, taking in his appearance, perhaps you should have warned the crew members what they should wear before measuring. Currently, the man before you wore overalls and a thick long sleeved shirt, both of which wouldn't be right for accurate measurements.

"Something wrong?" he asked, cocking a brow as he watching you curiously while you swiveled around on a rolling stool.

"Yes, actually." you confirmed. "I'm sorry, I should have informed you on what to wear, but I can't measure over your clothes."

"Y-You want me to take 'em off?" he asked, a bit embarrassed and unsure.

You blushed a bit at the prospect of what he was most likely imagining. "You don't have to, if you want to come back later, you can go change, and I can measure someone else in the meantime!" you offered with a nervous smile, but he declined.

"Nah, I'll just take 'em off. Its just for a minute, right?" he reasoned, already unhooking the straps of his overalls and tossing them over his shoulder. You couldn't help but fluster. You'd noticed that he'd been seemingly very comfortable with an exposed chest, but he wasn't going to completely strip, right?

When you refocused, you the glow in your cheeks brightened. Usopp was now shirtless, with the front of his overalls hanging down at his waist, a hint of jet curls spilling over his waistline. You had to admit, he was much more toned that you would have thought. "This okay?" he asked, bashfully glancing away. You nodded as a response.

Standing, you pulled your tape measurer from your apron pocket and began comparing it to his body, doing your very best not to stare. Occasionally, you would bend over and jot down a few numbers into a notepad that was beside you. The sniper couldn't help but feel a bit shy as your cold fingers grazed his skin. You were so focused, and the way your brows furrowed when you concentrated had him weak at the knees.

Eventually you finished, taking a step back to review the notes you'd installed beside his design. "Alright, are you comfortable with removing your pants if I turn around?" you asked suddenly. Usopp felt his face burn with embarrassment at the query.

"I thought it was just my shirt you needed off?" he asked timidly, laughing nervously and rubbing the back of his exposed neck.

"I want your pants to fit as well as possible. I won't get a good measurement around your overalls, they're too thick." you explained, thinking of the way the material for you planned to use might be uncomfortable if it were too loose. "Or, if you'd like to change into some shorts-" You began to bustle around the shop again, gathering the scraps the you complied to see how his colors contrasted. You cut off as you lifted a bolt of green pleather by the sound of fabric shifting, accompanied by the twinkling of metal fasteners colliding.

Turning back to him, your face caught fire, and you instantly dropped the bolt, covering your eyes with your palms, peaking though the cracks in your fingers. "I-I'm sorry, I was going to let you step out and change." you clarified.

Usopp stood on your pedestal, stripped down to stiped blue and white boxers, his discarded clothing draped over his arm as he stared at you blankly. "It's fine," he shrugged. "You're on a time crunch, right? As long as your not taking pictures or anything, I don't mind." You were astonished by his serenity with being nearly naked in front of someone he'd only known a week. You nodded quickly, simply wanting the moment to end, the humiliation far too much for you.

Sitting on your stool again, you rolled up to him, comparing your tape measure to his legs, silently admiring their definition. Finally, it was time for the inseam, no big deal right? Shakily, you lifted your hand to his groin, straightening the tape to his ankle. You felt him jolt under your touch, hunching slightly to put distance between himself and you hand. "W-Whoa, what are you doing?" he stammered, his cheeks dusting a rosy hue.

"Taking your inseam?" you replied, trying to remain as calm as possible. "It's the seam the runs along the inner side of your pants leg."

"Oh," he realized, reluctantly moving back into position. "A-and that's close to my...?"

"The inseam runs from the crotch to the ankle." you reassured. "Don't worry, Usopp, I'm not trying to put the moves on you." you giggled, feeling him relax a bit under your fingers.

"R-Right, heh." he laughed a bit with you. "Sorry."

"It's okay, it is a little awkward, isn't it?" he nodded with a nervous grin. "Now just be as still as you can, and we'll get this over with, hmm?" With little more said, Usopp straightened himself and allowed you to finish his measurements. "Now, we get to do the fun part." you chirped, rolling over to your desk and grabbing your sketchpad, flipping to his file.

"So, this was what I had in mind, just from pulling examples from your preexisting wardrobe." you began, running through the outfit with him and giving him all the reasons for your choices. "Luffy wants us all to have a sense of uniformity, with a hint of this colorful mafia type of vibe."

Usopp gazed intently at the sketch of himself, noting all the most prevalent features and hues. The idea consisted of a stylish Italian suit, comprised of a snow white sports jacket, an orange silk dress shirt that was left unbuttoned at the top to expose the collarbones, and most worrisome of all, lime green leather pants. "Green pants?" he asked, taking notice of the bolt of material you'd gathered earlier. "I'm not sure green looks too good on me."

Your shoulders slumped a bit. That was your favorite part of his design, but if he disliked it, you'd be happy to change it. "I disagree," you smiled, taking a scrap of the pleather and holding it against his forearm. "It chartreuse, by the way. And I think it contrasts beautifully with your skin tone."

"You think so?" Usopp blushed, never having really considered that aspect when picking his own clothes before.

"That and this aerospace silk is going to really pull the white and the green together." you continued, pulling a bolt or rusty orange form the wall. "Then I was thinking some white wing tipped shoes with the ankle exposed, and some gold chains instead of a tie." He sat for a moment and listened to you ramble, his heart melting a bit at the amount of care you'd put into making him look good. He never really had an eye for fashion, he just threw things together that he liked by themselves.

"Of course," your voice snapped him out of his stupor and his gaze once again continued to follow you around the shop. "It's your decision, if you want anything different, I'll be happy to oblige!"

"No, I like it." he confessed with a small smile. "You really put a lot of thought into it, didn't you?"

You nodded bashfully. "I wanted to makes sure I did well on my first assignment. I hope I can prove my worth to everyone." You lifted the sketchpad from his hands, hugging it closely. "Besides, what kind of tailor would I be if I let my crew go out in designs I didn't even like myself?"

"You don't need to be so nervous," he comforted, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You're doing great, and if Luffy wasn't sure you'd be worth bringing on, he would've left you in your village." An air of serenity fell between you both as you smiled bashfully at the floor. "Besides, I think you're doing great."

"Do you really mean that?" you asked with glowing cheeks.

"Yeah," he laughed. "I think everyone does. I was talking to Robin earlier and she was bragging on you pretty hard."

You beamed up at his with glossy eyes, fists held to your chest in excitement. "Really? What did she say?"

Usopp snickered, squeezing your shoulder comfortingly. "She said she'd never seen such a pretty dress." You sat for a moment and stewed in the crew's praise, nearly trembling with overwhelming joy.

-----

About a week later, you sat at your desk, humming softly, your socked foot bouncing happily on the pedal of your new, state of the art sewing machine. Gently, you pushed a slice of very stretchy pink cotton though, attaching it to an identical piece. You smiled brightly at it, envisioning the embroidery you would soon adorn it with, and how adorable it'll look on Chopper's shirt.

"Morning, Bobbin," a masculine voice called, letting himself into your shop unannounced. You rolled your eyes at the stupid nickname.

"Good morning, Usopp." you giggled as he strode over to you, setting a cup of tea down at the corner of your desk, far from spilling rang. "And I still don't think you know that that means."

He laughed you comment off, looking over your shoulder with a smile. "What're you working on?"

"Chopper's outfit." you answered with a grin. "I've got the vest and bow tie done, now I just have to finish the shirt and his slacks."

"Looks good," he complimented, sipping from his own cup. "By the way, what did you need me for?" he asked, referring to your request for him to visit you, last night.

"I need you to try on your outfit so I can make sure it fits properly." you replied, adjusting the settings on your machine. "It's in bag number three on the rack."

Usopp strolled over to it, immediately shedding his casual clothes. He'd gotten used to the feeling of being less than decent around you from all the alterations and measurements he'd had down as of late. He couldn't help but marvel at your craftsmanship as he carefully slipped the silk shirt over his shoulders, before buttoning it down.

Once he was finished, he turned to you, your back still away from him, to ask your opinion. "Should I tuck the shirt, or no?" You glance at him over your shoulder, face heated when you laid eyes on him. You beckoned him over to the modelling pedestal, to which he stepped up. You hummed in thought, taking him in, eyes studying him and noting details.

"How about a half tuck," you suggested, tucking the left side of the shirt loosely into the chartreuse pleather, before smoothing it out. Usopp couldn't help but feel timid at the sensation of you unbuckling his belt and slipping your fingers into the front of his pants, even if it were for a totally legitimate reason. You fastened his belt again, adjusting small things as you saw fit, separating and layering the twinkling gold chains that rested on his chest, and fixing the way his collar rested on it's bone. "I think that looks prefect! What do you think?" You asked, stepping out of the way so he could view himself in the full body mirror that rested against the wall.

Usopp was breathless to say the least. It looked like you'd plucked him right off the page of your sketch pad and magically willed the design into existence. "Oh, one more thing!" you giggled, turning back to your desk, before skipping back over to him, sliding a pair of yellow shades onto his head, acting as a headband for the moment.

"It's perfect," he breathed, still unsure of who else to describe it. "You really did think of everything. I don't think I've every looks so good."

You beamed at his praise, overjoyed tears welling up at his appreciation. "I don't think that's true." you cooed warmly.

"Huh?" your comment took him by surprise and he cocked his head to the side, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Before I came up with all the designs, I took a few days to study the way everyone typically dressed, and took inspiration from that." You explained with a bashful titter. "I think out of everyone's, your style stood out to me the most."

"Why's that?" he asked, blinking, confused.

"You have a habit wearing what you want without restraint. You don't seem to care about clashing colors or patterns. The laws of fashion don't apply to you."

Usopp pouted, crossing his arms. "Are you making fun of me?"

You stifled a laugh and shook your head. "I'm saying I admire you." He visibly stiffened form your compliment, before relaxing with a soft expression. "Those are the types of clothes I like making, ones that don't follow any certain rhyme or reason. Unique ones that just look good for the sake of looking good." You glanced up at him suddenly, starling him a bit, waiting for his reply.

Unfortunately, he was drawing a blank. "Well, I'm glad I could, uh be an inspiration to you?" he tried, not entirely knowing how to respond. "And for what it's worth, your designs are so much cooler than anything I could ever come up with. They reflect your personality a lot."

"How so?"

"Because they may be a little bit out there, but I really like them a lot." he grinned, preparing to laugh at his own joke. Blood rushed at your face as your smile fell into shy surprise. Did Usopp just say he liked you?

"Y-You like me? But why?"

"Because you leave me in stitches."

[silly-inky]

Hiya! Hello! It's me, ya boi

Updates people Updates!

So I'm making this sort of list of things I am in the process of making or should start working on soon (or things I have yet to post about yet) with little updates about them

Dimentio drawing- this is going alright so far but is a somewhat complicated piece where I will have 2 different end results, one with his mask and one without. I'm on the shaping phase of my lineart which is usually fun for me but I decided to take a small break from it as I was put off by how much time I spent on the sketch (about 30 hours) this does not mean the piece is complicated, just that it took a while to get everything right. I will get back to drawing this soon. This is a digital drawing

You were someone to me a lifetime ago- so for those who don't know I have a fic I'm working on. I released chapter 4 last month and hope to start working on the 5th chapter this month. After the last chapter was posted I started working on the layout of the story as up until this point I was just winging it and going with the flow with not much of a plan, but I know I should have some sort of base to follow in order to keep my writing consistent and have proper flow, because of this I have planned several chapters in advance now, and those who enjoy it will be happy to know that this fic will most likely have more than 30 chapters although I cannot say what number there will be specifically. I want to try and get more chapters out in a short amount of time as I don't want to drag this out but I cannot promise anything

My writing and ideas- so as said in a previous post, I have quite a few ideas that I have had but didn't share in here either because I was too lazy, forgot, or was self conscious. I will probably start to work on a few I already have written out and start to post them, I will also start to post more headcanon posts. Because of all these ideas I have had I actually have some other things that i will be able to share, which lead into..

Mario AU- an AU ( alternate universe) of which I made sort of out of the blue by accident which I have slowly been building on and I even have some doodles to go along with the basic lore of it. What is this AU you ask? Well you'll just have to wait and see, I will say that there is definitely some role swap in which makes things very interesting

Shipping- so for some who may have guessed, I am a multi-shipper, which isn't anything new but I preface this because of me delving into these ships a bit more. For instance me drawing Dimentio has sparked a lot of Dimentio and Dimigi (Dimentio x Luigi) ideas to form and be made, I shipped it before hand but I was and still am focused on booigi. So you may very well see some Dimigi soon as well as your scheduled booigi

Please do keep in mind like I have stated many times before, I struggle with motivation a lot and it can be very difficult for me to get things done, I don't know when any of this will be finished and forcing myself to get it all finished now will only burn me out more. I'm sorry I haven't been posting a lot of content recently as I've been struggling with a few things recently, I'll try and get content out for you as soon as I can and I hope it will make up for it. I was hoping that at least by posting this you will be aware of my plans and what is currently in the works so you guys are up to date

Also I wanted to just say that I appreciate the asks so much, it really means a lot and I love answering them! I do want to add if you are one of the 2 maybe 3 people who submitted an ask a little while ago, I just want to say that I haven't forgotten about them, I wish to draw proper responses for them I just haven't gotten around to it hey, I hope to answer them soon for you though

Have some old pics of my son (ignore how pale I am)

[recreyo]

RECREYO - CHAN: THEORIES / THOUGHTS

As of right now, "Recreyo Chan" has had three official appearances in videos, one possible season 2 design sketch, and two off-hand references.

Aaand, with promises from Curt that the SCP arc will have actual lore, and a VC that signified that Recreyo definitely knew about the fandom's thirst for lore... I think it's safe to say that RC may have more to do with it than what was initially planned from when she was first created. Especially when her recent appearances have been.. odd, and a specific event in the official Recreyo Discord had thrown us all for a loop.

This post is to showcase my thoughts and hopefully provide some clarity on who she actually is. (And if I'm sensible, then what she also could be.)

Warning: this may be a little long.

RC's debut was on Nov 16, 2021 for an Anime NYC announcement. You can find the video here.

From this video alone, RC definitely appears more like a mascot than anything- a one-off character who would only be mentioned for two visual gags from then on, plus a drawing that Ivan did shortly after the second video.

It's important to note that one of these references were definitely coincidental, and I don't want that to be forgotten. However, I wanted to address it just in case. After all, an accidental reference could very well be spun into a lore tidbit.

( The picture below is from a video's ad I can't remember, so if you find it please lemme know )

The video that that frame is from is old, that much I know. But recently, definitely after that video was up for months, Ivan dropped a possible season 2 design for RC. (3/23/23)

And what do you know, on the 17th, only 6 days before that drawing was sent in the Discord, we saw RC again. Albiet, it was just by name, so we don't know if it was just another gag. It likely is, since the animator could've drawn it ages before we saw it uploaded, but...

Let's just keep it in mind.

( The picture below is from We Let an AI Write This Video )

After these small bits, though, we got two actual appearances from RC. Ones that actually kept her design and so we know for a fact that they are the same character. INTENTIONALLY this time, I should add.

( Picture below is from Can You Survive Dr. Stone? )

At 9:31, Curt says "Nah, I gotta progress the plot." and we see the screen glitch with this frame showing up. This is, without a doubt, RC. From the blue hair, the red tie, and even the spiral cheeks- this is the mark that she was becoming something more.

(Plot-relevant, if you will.)

Being deliberately consistent now, we can take this a little more seriously.

I wanna say that although I don't know the specific time, the video was uploaded at the latest: 2:48 PM. I know this since that was time of the earliest message about the video in the Discord.

You might think it's redundant, but I bring the time up because everyone who was in the Discord would know that something else had happened that day, and it's incredibly important that we're all aware of it.

This person, who I'll call CA, had joined at 4:12. Two whole hours after the video was released, and so a lot of people had already watched it by then and had theorized about RC's surprising return.

Everyone's lore theories were public. And although framed as a hacker, CA was all obviously a plot by Recreyo to get us riled up for the lore. We know this, since Curt himself had showed up in the general chat prior to "play dumb" about everyone's collective breakdown.

Anyway, to summarize what had happened after CA showed up:

Everyone was pinging them, flirting, etc. Basically trolling, but also publicly theorizing that they were RC's account. By the way, "c̶" also was in the video's description, almost matching CA's name.

CA had a role (shown above) that put them at the top of the member-list. They were also apparently unbannable according to the mods.

Curt got "hacked" and if memory serves right, his PFP changed to the glitching RC picture. He sent the message "c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛͛c̶̓̈a̶͛" into the announcements channel.

Den banned Curt after confirming that he was "hacked."

Curt rejoined and got his Recreyo role back. However... CA is still online as I type this.

Again, everything was obviously a stunt, and I don't need to argue about that. However, I want to take all of this seriously in the sense that it's lore-related, because if we keep on going "it's just a joke" then everything in Recreyo's lore wouldn't matter. So SHUT THE FUCK UP IF YOU'RE TYPING "IT WAS AN APRIL FOOL'S JOKE" (BECAUSE IT WASN'T EVEN APRIL FOOL'S FOR THEM!!!!)

Anyhow, I think it's obvious that CA is connected to RC. Whether they're the same person or not, the glitch theme mixed with the hacker idea is way too similar. And if you're not convinced that it's even a motif, then let's go into today's upload.

( Picture below is from Officially Announcing the New Recreyo Member )

..Yeah, so this is happening. This is real.

An interesting detail is that RC was originally Den before glitching onto the frame. And if you continued watching, you'd notice that the screen pans over and Den shows up on the other side of the picture.

So... this is where we end with our sudden appearances, and we actually begin diving into what RC could be doing here, and what her place in the lore will be.

Let's run down the thoughts that I have:

A popular idea right now is that RC is an AI gone rogue. With the theme of glitching, it definitely fits.

As an explanation for her appearances, we can also assume that she hacks into the videos itself, and what we see on screen wasn't actually what was happening. So instead of her just appearing next to Christian like when they were recording, she instead corrupts the video as it "uploads." This is my current idea, since when questioned about the Dr. Stone video, Curt said:

As for her place into the story, there's a few possible ways for her to be integrated with the current SCP arc. Maybe she's an SCP herself, maybe she's the mystery guide...

I personally believe that she's the one who caused the blackout in the sculpture scenario. In my own headcanon, I had stated that RC worked with the SCP foundation and was integrated with all of the technology. I might not fully believe that now, but I still agree with the latter half.

If she's a professional hacker due to her AI abilities, I don't think it's farfetched she'd be messing up the SCP foundation and trying to get Recreyo killed...

But why? What incentive would she have?

...Well, I've had an idea for a while. I've had RC in my own headcanon lore of Recreyo for quite a bit, and I even called the possibility of her being an AI. The malice I believe that she'd hold towards her creators involves the theme of freedom. Being a real person rather than a character. Vengeance.

I definitely doubt that The Bunker Trio would be brought back (as much as it pains me to say) but something I associate a lot with them is how much tragedy they went through.. solely because of Recreyo. Being original characters, all of their pain was directed by Curt and exploited for content, IN-UNIVERSE.

These themes I have with them are something that extends to RC. I believe that RC is intending to take over the Recreyo channel as payback for bringing her into a world just as a mascot. If she was given the blessing of intelligence, then why the hell was she only used as a mascot?

This is getting a little meta, but I want to emphasize how she was only a lifeless one-off character. I honestly believe she only has lore now because Recreyo realized how obsessed with it we are. So they dig up an old character who hasn't been touched in two years, and suddenly she's the star of the show?

RC is sick of being used as an "idol." She'll let her face haunt the videos for now, but she's going to take over one way or another.

....Or something like that. I can't tell if this even makes sense, but that's basically what I think about RC. I have other headcanons, like how I think she and Roberto work together as a duo, but those are far from what's actually happening.

But then again, I only have these stupid headcanons because I hadn't counted on her becoming a character again. I thought that she was honestly retired.

I might've originally dug a path far from the road of canon, but if it means Recreyo is finally exploring their potential of storytelling, then hell- you already know that I'll be running back.

(Also while I was typing this, CA changed their name to CAN. So.. yeah.)

[maurice-memes]

Welcome to Maurice Memes!

It's been 3 years, and I haven't made an intro post yet💀 Maybe it's time... this post is subject to change btw!

Who Am I?

For those who are already familiar with me, I'm most well-known in this fandom as Maurice Memes! But you can also call me who I actually am, AtomicStarCat (<-main blog link) (or Atomic)! I can go by anything you want me to, even Maurice's Funky Purple Socks!

I use any pronouns you want to use with me! Call me anything you'd like!

I'm currently 19 years old, but sometimes I still feel like I'm 12 *cry*

I am ace-aro, but I really love making friends!

I'm really bad at reaching out to others in this fandom and being consistent with liking posts, but I really love everyone here, and I'd love to know you better! If I'm not following your LotF blog, please let me know!! I'd love to see more content! I don't talk much, but I promise that if you reach out to me and talk to me, that would make me so happy!! I really want to become closer to everyone here! I'll do my best to appreciate you all better!

I'm kinda off and on in every fandom I'm in, so I'll post consistently for a while, then disappear for a while, but I'm never gone forever! This fandom means so much to me, I'd never forget it!

What Do I Like?

Lord of the Flies! Why else would I be here?

mostly children's media, like Digimon, Powerpuff Girls Z, Precure, and Legend of Zelda! But I won't post about that here^^

About My Art and Requests!

I'm an artist! I draw mostly on Notability, but I sometimes make finished pieces on Ibis or make sketches on Freeform!

I mostly sketch silly things and mini-comics, but I have done some character memes in the past and may do some in the future.

Requests: I will most likely take any and all LotF character/LotF ship requests! I can also draw your designs for the boys if you ask me! I'd love to see them!

I also look at trades for LotF characters, LotF ships, and OCs, just ask! (I always consider OC trades, but won't always accept)

I also have a dead Percival ask blog, @percivals-mailbox, but you can still send stuff in if you really want to!

About my LotF!

My active ships: Jack/Ralph, Roger/Simon, Maurice/Sam, Platonic Maurice+Piggy, Bill/Robert, Percival/Mulberry Boy, and Johnny/Wilfred!

I don't particularly dislike any ships as long as they're portrayed respectfully and healthily! Just don't ask me to draw something weird like a bigun/littlun ship😅

I headcanon Ralph and Mulberry Boy as brothers, and I post about them sometimes without context haha

I have one(1) AU called LotF Academy that's slice of life, which also includes gender bends of all the characters as separate entities in the same world! You can ask me to draw them together!

I don't post very often explicitly about my headcanons, but I will talk about them if asked!

Conclusion!

I only have a couple rules!

Respect me, yourself, and others on my page.

I don't support discrimination of any kind, incest, proship, basic DNI, etc., or endorse anything 18+ on my profile. I say endorse because I don't have problems with healthy 18+ content, just that it makes me uncomfortable as a sex-repulsed ace.

Do not use my fan art on any of my social media without clear, linked credit, and do not use any original art on my social media without explicit permission under any circumstances!

====

Find me elsewhere! OC requests are always open on toyhou.se! I’m also on Art Fight!

atomicstarcat.carrd.co

Thank you for reading my long intro! I'm so happy you found your way here, and I hope you will continue to visit for years to come! I can't wait to meet you!

[stargazeraldroth]

hear me out: soulmate errink where you share your dreams with your soulmate- you can talk to them, just hang out cuddle, go on little dream dates, the like. and of course, this holds true for error! and his strangely unnamed soulmate. it’s practically the only thing keeping him sane, really- those little nighttime visits to a tiny, almost unfinished looking skeleton. it’s the only time he can talk to someone that isn’t the voices, the only time he can hug someone and touch them, and sure, things aren’t always perfect but they’re all the other has- error’s been told about the blank, awful whiteness and sketched figures his soulmate is stuck with, and he’s shared his own experiences in turn.

and error intended for his slowly emerging power to travel between aus to be a surprise for his little soulmate! he’d hate to get their hopes up, to promise something he couldn’t fulfill, but he’s sure he’s almost got it down- just a bit more practice and he can finally, finally find them, can get them out of there, and even if things aren’t great from there they’ll have each other, right? neither of them will be alone.

so of course error freaks out when the dreams stop coming and his soul aches.

of course he forgoes being careful and tears his way through whatever worlds may have been between him and his soulmate because they don’t matter right now.

and of course he loses it when he finally, finally gets to their awful cage of scribbles and whiteness and finds only dust and shredded remains of a soul behind.

basically: i’m curious where you’d go with something like this, where past!ink starts to think the soulmate dreams are just him going insane and can’t take it anymore (the creators, perhaps?), and error snaps when his soulmate seemingly isn’t there at all, suddenly. may or may not be yandere, now. oops!

RAAAAAAAAAAAH SOULMATE AU 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

I LOVE A GOOD SOULMATE AU but unfortunately, my commentary is gonna be complete garbage. Because it's getting late, I'm tired, and I'm slightly hungry. But nothing's appealing and I don't wanna make anything. So I guess I'll starve

ALSO YANDERE MENTION??? YES PLEASE??? I don't know why, but the yandere trope is one of my favorites to use. Maybe I need mental help

Anyway, this is already pretty angst-focused, so I'll just keep following that trend. Like I said, my commentary's gonna be crappy, and I feel bad because this such??? A well-written thing??? I'm so sorry Anon :(

I thiiiiink it's canon that Ink doesn't remember anything from his unfinished AU, since he destroyed his soul, but I could be wrong about it. I'm only like 50% sure about that one, but for the sake of being consistent and not wasting your time, I'll say that he doesn't remember his past. Meaning he doesn't remember any of the dreams he had or even his soulmate, or that soulmates are even a thing. He doesn't relearn this until he finds out while observing some AUs, and he even gets... a bit envious sometimes. He knows that being soulless has many advantages when it comes to combat, such as his regenerative abilities, but the lack of a soulmate is... glaring. He knows some of the others pity him for it, too. He doesn't want their pity. It feels so... belittling...

Meanwhile, Error's turned cold and calloused from the death of his soulmate. He's adopted an "If I can't have (blank), then no one can" mentality when it comes to soulmates, which is part of why he destroys AUs here. He still feels a constant ache because of his frayed bond. Sometimes, he looks at Ink and wonders if he feels anything, but then argues that he's soulless- meaning he didn't have a soulmate to begin with (if only you knew, Error). And yet... sometimes, he can't help but see his lost soulmate when he looks at Ink. Their faces... their body structure... their voices... it's uncanny how similar they are, but it... it can't be him, right? How could it possibly be? It's just a hopeless dream of his, surely...

Now, this can lead into the yandere elements. If Error keeps making the connection, he juuuust might start believing what he's seeing. Maybe... maybe Ink is his soulmate reincarnated, or something like that. And if he is, then... Error can't afford to lose him again. If he loses him a second time, then he's really going to break. He can't go through that again! He knows Ink doesn't have a soul, but that's okay.

He's more than willing to remind Ink of what they used to have. What they should have had, and what they will have together.

[roselen-mylady]

In Another Life

Bucky Barnes x reader ° part ten

Summary: Waiting 88 years to find your soulmate? It was cruel. But it was a cruel fate Bucky would have to face whether he accepted it or not. Bucky was a tortured man all his life and he wasn't even granted the solace of having his soulmate at his side. All he had was the promise of one in another life. They were separated by two different times.

But the pain in their lives were connected.

Y/n had been alone ever since she could remember. All she could depend on was the soulmate that was destined to be at her side. Yet when the snap occurred she lost him.

And Bucky never got to meet her.

Though Steve showed no signs of leaving or the anger Y/n had feared, she still felt the anxiety that came from revealing her true past. He was supportive, as he always was and so was everyone else once they were told. Tony only had a mere, 'I knew it' to add to the subject and while Y/n was touched, she couldn't help the array of things she felt. 

Foolish was one of them. Hiding her past from them before was stupid but Steve insisted that her going underground was probably best since HYDRA would've searched for her. While that brought her some solace she was still uncomfortable with the idea of becoming more involved. Something always went wrong and Nat was proof. 

She missed her friend badly and Y/n couldn't help but feel it was her own cursed luck that had taken Nat. It was ridiculous to think that she could ever be happy. Stupid to think she could help her friends bring back everyone. Stupid to think she might actually meet her soulmate.  

"Hey, kid. We're going to put the stones together." Tony cut into Y/n's racing thoughts. Her gaze lifted from the drawing Steve had given her, settling on Tony as he leaned in through the doorway. 

She didn't know why she was still looking at the picture or why she had even accepted it. She wanted to believe she was still furious, still resentful. Wanted to force all the pain and guilt she felt into him once more. But in all reality she was just so lost. For years she pretended to be someone else and now that she was free to be the girl she once was, she didn't even remember who that was. 

A genius? A hero? A terrified little orphan? She had no idea but she didn't want to be any. She wanted to be Y/n, a friend and a psychiatrist. She now understood why Steve wanted her around. He needed someone to remind him of who he was, who he truly was. 

Was James that person once? 

Was that why she found herself gazing at the sketch, hoping for a split second that maybe she could go back to the moment that was drawn? Praying to go back to a time where James Barnes was fighting for his past and his own will. A time where he might comfort her like he did Steve over the death of Nat. A time where his thoughts were his own and so we're his actions. 

Y/m almost hated herself for despising him. Though she knew there was still much to his story she was too scared to ask, she knew he was nothing more than a tortured soul with a gun. She couldn't figure out how the man in the drawing was the same man who'd nearly killed her. 

It wasn't.  

Noticing her broken expression, Tony hesitantly stepped into the room coming to sit with her. Her fingers gently held the page and he looked down at it, recognizing the face instantly. It sent a chill through his spine, seeing the same face almost ripped the arc reactor straight from his chest. 

It had taken him years to forgive Steve but he still struggled to do the same with the man who murdered his parents in cold blood. All the hatred toward his parents' assassin had gone unresolved since Steve and Bucky left him at that frozen HYDRA base. And once forgiving Steve, Tony had no other outlet and he found it difficult to sit there with the picture.

So he tried to focus on something else.  

"So, you and Ms. Romanoff were close?" He mumbled trying poorly to begin consoling her. She nodded numbly, folding the paper and setting it aside. 

The emotions she felt were mixed and intense making it hard for her to filter through her feelings but one surfaced more than others. Guilt. 

"Ever since the snap." She replied, her shoulders slack. Tony and Nat had their own relationship, one much older than her own but they'd been apart for so long. Ever since Nat went off the grid with Steve and even after the snap when he distanced himself from all of them, they hardly interacted. But they were friends. The type of friends that wouldn't be parted even by death. 

"Do you think things would be different if I hadn't showed up?" Y/n asked him suddenly. He looked over at her studying her guilt ridden eyes that she kept trained on the floor. It was a familiar look, one he wore often. But not one he wanted her to. 

"Natasha wasn't the type of person to let anyone dictate her choices. I think she was ready to give her life for a cause and none of us could've stopped her." Tony sighed, the weight of her death finally reaching its max. "Not even a couple of geniuses." 

•••

"Let's hope this doesn't blow up." Tony mumbled next to her. The small group consisting of them with the addition of Bruce and Rocket stood in the lab, waiting in anticipation as Tony carefully placed the stones in the gauntlet. With his shaking hands it was difficult to be precise while he manipulated the machine but he managed to place all six stones in their respective places. They held their breath unsure if the stones would react or blow up the lab as Tony feared.  

"Boom!" Rocket yelled suddenly making all of them flinch. He began to laugh loudly and they all turned to him with annoyed looks. Y/n slapped the back of his head, cutting his laughing short as she walked off trying to ignore the trembling in her legs. Tony muttered something under his breath moving to bring the gauntlet to a more accessible area for the wearer. 

"You're an asshole." Y/n groaned. Tony walked past them, putting the gauntlet on a display table that made it hover a couple inches above. 

"Come on, it was funny!" Rocket argued, earning an unamused stare from both Tony and Y/n. 

It took a few minutes for Bruce to collect everyone but eventually everyone was gathered around the gauntlet. Most had expressions Y/n familiarized with PTSD and once following their gazes she realized their experience with the gauntlet Thanos wore was resurfacing. 

Hopefully, with the new one they'd be able to reverse what he'd done. But the trauma would stay. That she knew. 

"All right. The glove's ready. Question is, who's gonna snap their fucking fingers?" Rocket questioned, looking up at the group. Their options were limited since most people in the room were only human, even Steve. 

"I'll do it." Thor volunteered without hesitation. He drunkenly stepped forward making everyone turn to him with confused and reluctant looks. Their choices were limited but they weren't desperate enough to put such a powerful object on a drunk god.  

"Excuse me?" Scott asked, glancing around at the others for one of them to tell Thor what a bad idea it was. 

"It's okay." Thor insisted, marching forward with a purpose. Steve moved to stop him with the help of Tony making the poor large man pause. 

"No, no, no, whoa. Stop. Stop. Wait a sec. Hey, hey–" Everyone was a mess of refusal and Thor's face turned hurt as he tried to continue. 

"Wait, wait, Thor, just wait. We haven't decided who's gonna put that on yet." Steve explained. Thor shifted on his feet, clearly upset with their rejection.  

"I'm sorry. What, we're just sitting around waiting for the right opportunity?" He asked,

annoyed. Scott looked to Y/n hoping she might use some of her 'therapist powers' he called them after realizing she really couldn't read minds. 

"We should at least discuss it." Y/n tried to reason. Thor shook his head stubbornly, swaying unsteadily on his feet. 

"No, no, sitting here staring at that thing is not gonna bring everybody back. I'm the strongest Avenger, okay? So this responsibility falls upon me. It's my duty." He told them, gesturing to the gauntlet then himself. 

"It's not about that–" Tony told him gently, coming to stand in front of him as he started to move Thor back. Thor resisted but was unsuccessful as he started to grow emotional. "Hey buddy-" Tony tried again only to be cut short by Thor frantically shushing him and everyone else. 

"Stop it! Just let me! Just let me do it. Just let me do something good. Something right." Thor begged, tears filling his eyes. He was desperate to prove he was worthy, to prove he could still be the hero he once was. 

"Look– It's not just the fact that that glove is channeling enough energy to light up a continent, I'm telling you, you're in no condition." Tony fought. There was no way they were going to let him hold the fate of the world in his hand while he was drunk. Even the Thor he was years ago shouldn't have held that kind of power, it was too risky. 

"What do you– What do you think is coursing through my veins right now?" Thor asked, his eyes studying Tony's for any kind of hope that might tell him they would let him make the sacrifice. 

"Cheez Whiz?" Rhodey scoffed, earning a glare from Y/n. Thor looked over at Rhodey pointing a shaky finger at him as he tried not to cry in frustration. He held onto Tony, grasping at his shoulders and prying Tony's attention away from Rhodey's comment. 

"Lightning." Thor corrected, looking back to Tony with pleading eyes. Tony nodded but he knew he couldn't allow Thor to wear the gauntlet. "Lightning." Thor repeated, distraught but Tony's reaction. 

"Lightning won't help you, pal. It's gotta be me." Bruce announced suddenly. Thor shook his head letting go of Tony. "You saw what those stones did to Thanos. It almost killed him. None of you could survive." Bruce explained. 

"How do we know you will?" Steve questioned as Bruce paced over to the gauntlet. 

"We don't. But the radiation's mostly gamma. It's like...I was made for this." Bruce mumbled. He gazed intensely at the stones, silently calculating his odds. If the Hulk couldn't handle this, was this really how he was going to die? And if so would it even work? 

They looked at each other knowing it was their best chance at bringing them back. They had to take it. 

Tony stepped forward, grabbing the gauntlet and handing it to Bruce as they headed to a more secure part of the lab. 

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Y/n asked Bruce quietly. She knew how Nat's death had affected him and she refused to make the same mistake with him. 

"Yes. We have to finish this." He declared. Y/n watched as he paced forward to catch up with Tony as she lagged behind to Steve. 

"Do you think this will work?" Steve questioned. Y/n chewed her lip anxiously, focusing her stare at the gauntlet as Steve came to stand beside her. 

"Bruce's gamma radiation is stronger and most equipped to handle the energy but it's still dangerous. The stones are too powerful together, I didn't think they were ever really meant to be used together." She sighed, hating the sacrifices that came with saving the world. If they lost someone else just for this to not work was it really even worth trying? 

"Bruce is strong." Steve tried to ease her worry but it wasn't enough. 

"I know. I just-I can't keep losing people, Steve. It's like a curse. Every time I try to do something good…-" 

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're not gonna lose anyone else. Not on my watch." Steve promised but both of them knew it was practically empty. There was no guarantee. "Let's just bring everyone back." 

Y/n tried to smile but like his promise it was hollow. "Yeah, okay." 

"Good to go, yeah?" Tony questioned as Bruce carefully held the piece in his large hands. He seemed anxious but who wouldn't be in that situation. 

"Let's do it." He confirmed as Y/n and Steve returned to the group. She walked around him, stopping beside Tony and sharing a steady nod. 

"You remember–everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago, you're just bringing them back to now, today. Don't change anything from the last five years." Tony told him seriously.

"Got it." Bruce assured. Then suddenly the room grew quiet and a tenseness settled in the air that Y/n was too amazed to catch onto. For the first time she realized she was living the dream of millions of people. Everyone had readied themselves and Y/n watched as they stood there in their superhero uniforms, the power and determination they all had washing over her. 

Tony pressed his chest allowing his suit to expand and morph to his body, a shield lighting up before him. His stare then drifted to Y/n who still stood there in her casual clothes, watching them all confused and out of place. Why were they getting ready now? They were doing this here? 

"Hey, kiddo. Come on." Tony urged, motioning to her earpiece. She gave a soft 'oh' mimicking him as she pressed the button making her own suit appear. A shield of her own design came to her forearm and Tony eyed it curiously. 

"Did you mess with the suit?" He asked, the seriousness in his tone startling her a bit. She shrugged, looking at him defensively. 

"Yeah, you said it was just a prototype so I fixed it a bit." She explained. He looked away, grateful she couldn't see the entertained smirk on his lips as he turned back to Bruce. 

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., do me a favor and activate Barn Door Protocol. Will you?" Tony called. Y/n had gotten used to the suit during the time she could spare to examine it and she put 70% power into the armor, figuring if something did go wrong it probably wouldn't hurt to be a little more protected. 

"Yes, boss." F.R.I.D.A.Y replied. Metal doors began to close off the lab as the compound went into lockdown and if the seriousness of the situation hadn't set in yet it definitely did then as Y/n widened her stance to try and brace herself. 

"Everybody comes home." Bruce reminded himself, cautiously reaching his hand into the gauntlet. The gauntlet expanded to fit his hand thanks to Tony's nanotech but as soon as it was fully on the power of the stones surged through him. He grunted in pain collapsing to his knees as the energy began to burn into his arm. 

"Take it off! Take it off!" Thor cried, waving his hands as Bruce shakily held the gauntlet. Steve stepped forward, keeping anyone from acting. 

"No, wait. Bruce, are you okay?" Steve questioned. He knew more than anyone that just because something was painful didn't mean they couldn't do it. 

"Talk to me, Banner." Tony called, becoming more concerned with each unresponsive moment. Y/n started moving to help but froze as Bruce looked up at them.  

"I'm okay. I'm okay." He insisted. They eased up a little and everyone watched carefully as he tried to regain control of the stones. Thor gave a double thumbs up, watching the scene before him with an astounded expression. 

"F.R.I.D.A.Y what are his vitals?" Y/n questioned anxiously. Charts bloomed around Bruce and she quickly read them realizing his heart rate was dangerously high. In fact everything was high, his blood pressure, his respiration rate, even his body temperature had increased. Bruce screamed again, fighting the instinct to remove the gauntlet from the overwhelming pain it caused him as he lined up his fingers. 

The world seemed to stop at the echoing of the snap, the fated sound she'd only heard about for five years finally filling her head the same way it had for the others. 

He fainted and the gauntlet fell off his arm, clattering on the floor before Clint quickly kicked it away from him. 

"Bruce!" Steve called, kneeling beside him as the others rushed forward to check on him. Y/n tugged the remains of his sleeve back gently as Tony kneeled beside her, holding up his hand. 

"Don't move him." Tony demanded, applying a coolant spray from his fingertips over Bruce's arm. Bruce groaned, reaching out and grabbing Steve's arm urgently. 

"Did it work?" He questioned breathlessly, keeping his large hand tight around Steve's arm. Thor gave him a reassuring smile while Y/n looked over the damage of his arm. 

"We're not sure. It's okay." Thor soothed, his voice hopeful as he turned his gaze toward the door where the lab was starting to open up again. Scott walked off to the now open area and some of the others spread out to see what had happened but Y/n stayed at Bruce's side. 

"You did great, Bruce." She told him, giving him a smile to which he returned, though it was a bit more pained. A muted vibrating came from the table on the other side of the room and Y/n turned to see Clint walking over to it almost numb. 

Did it work? 

"Honey? Honey." Clint spoke, his voice quivering in joy as Y/n looked at Tony. They shared a wide eyed glance, both rattled by the idea that they might have actually won. 

Y/n wished to look at her wrist, praying that the countdown she had before the snap returned. She couldn't even remember how many days it had read back then but it didn't matter anymore. She just wanted to meet her soulmate. Would he be looking for her?  

Were his eyes really blue? 

But their victory couldn't last long and Y/n knew that as she followed Bruce's gaze to the skylight above them. There flying menacingly above the compound was the biggest spacecraft she had ever seen and dread instantly set in upon seeing the missile coming their way. 

"Look out!" Y/n screamed, trying to warn the others but it was too late. Her helmet quickly came forward along with her shield which she tried desperately to put over Bruce's head, protecting her and him from falling debris. But the roof wasn't the only thing falling apart. 

The floor split and some of the group fell into the large hole while Y/n struggled to regain her balance. She quickly looked around her, catching sight of Steve sliding across the floor toward the hole. Using the thrusters, she launched forward, grabbing hold of one of the straps to his uniform and dragging him back toward Tony. 

The building was falling down around them and any means of escape were closing off faster than she could find them. Steve managed to climb to his feet again but before either of them could come up with a plan a large piece of the roof fell, striking Y/n down. She cried out falling through the floor to the room below, getting pinned on her stomach under the roofing. 

"Y/n!" Steve yelled, peering down into the hole. Y/n gasped, the impact knocking the wind out of her. Tony looked down too, the two men struggling to keep themselves up as they waited anxiously for her to speak. 

"Minimal damage to prototype armor." F.R.I.D.A.Y announced making Y/n groan. She slowly lifted herself up using her back to push off the rumble before leaning back on her knees, panting slightly. 

"You call that minimal?" She questioned, annoyed. Tony chuckled through the headset, her reply giving him a little relief knowing she was alright.  

"The suits can handle more than we can, kid." He explained. Y/n grumbled, climbing to her feet. She didn't care how durable the suit was, she was still very much human inside the metal and every hit the suit felt, she did too. 

"Are you okay?" Steve called, leaning closer to the edge of the hole. Tony put a hand on his chest, keeping him from falling in while Y/n slowly climbed to her feet. 

"Yeah. I'm fine, Steve." She waved her hand pretending to be nonchalant before coughing from how forcefully her lungs had been emptied. They were about to attempt to go down to her when the floor they were on shifted and Steve fell over, sliding off to another part in the lab. 

"Cap!" Tony called, trying to reach out and catch him. Steve called back that he would be alright giving Tony a little assurance as he turned his gaze back to Y/n. "This building is falling apart!" He called down to her. 

"What do you want me to do?" She asked, looking around at the floor around her. She had landed in the living room area, one of her favorite places but like the rest of the facility it was falling to ruin. 

"Find the stones. We can't risk losing them." Tony instructed. Y/n let out a short sigh, the weight of the task making her stomach turn. 

"Is it too late to go home?" She joked. Tony smiled softly unbeknownst to Y/n. The building shook again with another hit and he knew he wouldn't have long to talk to her. 

"No." He answered truthfully. If she could find a way out, there would be nothing stopping her. She could easily fly away and forget about this. "But you know what they say. It only takes one fight to make a hero." Tony explained. 

Y/n pierced her lips, knowing that she never really intended on leaving. She was all in from the moment Scott had been yelling into the camera and though she'd been doubtful before, she knew this was where she was meant to be. 

"Go be Iron Star." Tony chuckled, making her scoff and shake her head. Of course, he had to ruin the moment. 

"We really gotta talk about that name!" She called, turning away and running off toward the window to her left. Using the thrusters in the metallic boots she flew forward and smashed through the glass, unsteadily keeping herself in the air outside. 

"Just find the stones." 

•••

When Bucky had woken up he was right where he'd been in Wakanda. T'Challa ran to him trying very hastily to explain what had happened. They had been gone for five years according to the wizard man they called 'Strange' and now they needed to come fight Thanos again. 

While Bucky was usually quick to understand and move on to the next fight, he couldn't help but stop at this news. He'd promised himself that the fight with Thanos was the last time so that he could find his soulmate but he was still fighting. When would it stop?

For a split second he feared maybe his chance at meeting his soulmate had come and gone and he frantically ripped back his right sleeve to look at his wrist. 

"3 days?" Sam asked, peeking down at Bucky's arm as T'Challa organized his army. Bucky numbly nodded, his heart racing as he watched the seconds tick away. He was three days away from her. 

He had to make it through this time. 

No matter what. 

•••

"F.R.I.D.A.Y, can you scan the compound for the stones' energy signature?" Y/n questioned, looking over the wreckage of what was once the Avengers compound. It didn't even look the same, all blown to the foundation with rubble spread around like a battlefield. 

"I detect energy levels matching the stones underneath the building in the sewer systems. You should have access through what's left of the first floor." The A.I. answered. Y/n flew over to the nearest opening of the building, using micro lasers to burn a hole into the floor leading down into the sewers. 

She jumped down into it, landing as quietly as possible before looking around. It was hard to see much, the only light being the blaring red light of the alarm system but the tunnel appeared empty other than the obvious debris and flooding. She cautiously walked forward watching as her display outlined the surrounding area. 

It was eerily silent, the soft trickling of water putting her on edge as she continued down the tunnel, following the power signature of the stones. 

"I detect hostiles approaching." F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke suddenly. Y/n watched carefully as her display changed, showing a clearer picture using an x-ray of the surroundings. The stones rapidly approached as did the hostiles and she quickly held up her hands, powering up the repulsors as Clint ran into her vision.  

"Shoot 'em!" Clint screamed, narrowly dodging one of the creatures that lined the tunnel. Y/n did what he said, firing at the closest creature before moving onto the next, trying to hold them off long enough for Clint to run past her. 

"What the hell are these things?!" She yelled, following after him as they both broke off into a sprint through the water. 

"I don't know but I'm tired of this alien shit!" Clint shouted over his shoulder as Y/n glanced back at the creatures, firing again at one that got too close. Clint pulled out one of his arrows, throwing it into one of the pipes next to them before running faster. 

Catching onto what he was doing, she picked up speed as well, jumping with him as the arrow exploded taking out most of the creatures. Y/n looked up from the ground, noticing that some of them had started to crawl through the flames making her climb to her feet, grabbing Clint under his arms. 

She activated the thrusters and they launched up, faltering a bit since Y/n had barely learned to fly by herself let alone while carrying someone. Clint unsheathed his sword, yelling as he cut through some of the creatures that had climbed up beside them. 

Once reaching the top Y/n dropped him to the side before falling herself, tumbling a few feet away. Clint climbed to his knees, holding out his sword as he let out a threatening shout. Thankfully, no other creatures appeared over the edge and he collapsed onto his back next to Y/n. 

"Hey." Clint chuckled, nudging Y/n tiredly. "You're an Avenger now." He told her drawing a half-hearted laugh from her. She groaned the pain in her ribs increasing at the action and she put a hand over her side. 

"Being an Avenger hurts." 

•••

Once going through the portal the wizard had made, Bucky was met with a wasteland. Thanos and Steve watched as others arrived through the portals and while Steve's expression was much more relieved than Thanos', it was clear they were only evening the playing field as Bucky looked toward Thanos' forces. 

The Wakandan armies chanted as hundreds of other heroes came through the portals, each ready for the final battle. He walked forward, coming to stand a few feet away from Steve as he studied the enemy across the way. He was determined to finish what they had started five years ago. He wanted to find his soulmate and he wanted this fight to truly be the last. 

"Avengers!" Steve called. Bucky held his breath, hoping with everything he had that for all his misfortune over the years, today would end better. 

He'd suffered for a lifetime. 

Please let this be the last fight. 

"Assemble." 

Everyone yelled, running forward at Thanos' forces. The fight broke out and Bucky managed to find himself alongside the raccoon he'd encountered last time. They shared brief eye contact and Rocket's eyes flashed with recognition while Bucky tried to ignore him. 

"How about now?!" Rocket yelled, motioning to his arm. Bucky glanced over at him, growing annoyed with the talking animal's persistence. What the hell would a raccoon do with his arm? 

"No!" Bucky yelled back. He turned, noticing one of the creatures had been sneaking up on Steve while he had his back turned and Bucky quickly shot at it, knocking it down. Steve turned, giving Bucky a grateful and joyous smile. Bucky smiled back making sure to keep aware of the creatures around him. 

"What the hell did you get me into, Steve?" Bucky yelled teasingly. His friend gave a short chuckle, using the large hammer to slam back another one of Thanos's creatures. 

"Nothing two old men can't handle." 

Taglist:

Part eleven

@cancanmarvel

@jessyballet

@eldahae

@mc225g

@kissesofdeadforme

@wantingtobekorra

@sxphiiwrld

@lunaticbarnes

@indecisivedolly

@saiyanprincesswanie

@lextheflexsthings

@silver-winter-wolf

@whatifwedo

@arguedquill1226

@lunashaw57

@loushkspr

@3aileypage

@mela-noche

[viridiave]

A month-end update.

So- January 2021 is ending and I haven't seen the Doomsday Clock update just yet, that's pretty worrying.

That's not what I'm here to report on though, uh... To confess, I actually haven't been that busy in all the months I've been gone. So this goes out to everyone who knew me on Instagram and some new bonds on Discord who might find me here- I'm sorry that I've been avoiding you. I wasn't happy with how things were going anymore, and decided that I wanted a change of pace. Still, it's a pretty shitty move on my end to just straight-up desert you all and disappear for months without a trace. November was worrying, and December had me post exactly one Glitchtale-related thing and heck I didn't even drown anyone in flowers that time. I just wasn't happy living with social media the way I had been for a few years now- I became too dependent on the short-lived validation it gave me, and that in turn left me with too toxic of a mind to continue communicating with my usual friends. So I mean it when I say that it isn't you- it's me. It's all me. I didn't want to feel envious of anyone, and to be frank I got sick every damn time the thought crosses my mind that 'why couldn't I be just as popular as them?' when all I want is to be happy for my friends' accomplishments. I want to be happy with you- for you. I just want to be happy- because what kind of friend would I be if I got angry of seeing the disparity between mine and my friends' talents every time I talk to them? I've sickened myself with my inner toxic behavior for too long.

This was a few months ago, and that's still how I feel now. It's not Spring just yet. I'm so sorry that I felt that way about you all- and that I'm still working to fix that today.

Because of that I'd been hiding out in Discord and here... Sometimes. Some few friends found me over there but I only ever consistently interact with a very select few. There was one other event that made me want to stay the hell away from Instagram and hide away, but that's for another time. Unlike my debilitating envy, I don't feel sorry about this one- so likely none of you will feel the same way. And that's fine- because I want to be done being unsure of how I feel and not knowing how to deal because of it.

Anyway, I wasn't completely inactive with regards to art the entire time I was hiding away, and I'm... Kind of wanting to share what I've been up to. I know folks from Instagram normally only like my Glitchtale art, but I'm still trying to actively not give a fuck about that exposure... ratio thing, so I'll post some sketches every now and then. I've been spending a lot of time on the Sky Discord- specifically the Sky Lore Chat, and I'm quite happy and invested there- needless to say a lot of art popped up because I got that urge to draw from al that lore talk. It's fun, it's a lot of fun.

I can't promise that I'll be consistent once I inevitably get back on Instagram. I have some friends I need to apologize to. And if you're one of them seeing this right now... I'm sorry, but I'm not quite ready to go back yet.

Spring is coming. I'll see you properly then.

[sydney-stylites-blog]

Of betrayals and backstabbings | The Dragonpit edition

Yeah the title really doesn't make a lot of sense, but I liked how it sounded 🤷🏻 I kind of wanted to explore the whole Jon betraying Dany thing again, and why the Dragonpit scene conclusively ended any doubts I might have had regarding that.

I've been staunchly against the concept of Jon betraying Dany and I've addressed it multiple times already. Betraying Dany doesn't fit in Jon's character sketch. There a million already existing problems which everyone has to deal with, and Jon playing Dany is not one of them. Of course, then we have the classic case of Ygritte brought up. If Jon could betray her for the Night's Watch, why can't he betray Dany for his family? What antis conveniently forget every time they bring this up is that Ygritte (and the wildlings) were coming to destroy the Night's Watch (and a ton of innocent people while at it). So Jon betrayed her because he had no other option. Dany is coming with her armies and dragons to save Jon's home, save the North...so why, why would Jon betray her? What would he have to gain by this?

Consider this. When Sansa and Arya played Littlefinger, that was awesome! We not only supported it, but we were thrilled af when it happened! But what about when Littlefinger had betrayed Ned Stark, and that was after telling him he shouldn't have trusted him? I mean, he had warned him earlier hadn't he? So the betrayal wasn't out of the blue, right? It was something we should have been expecting, wasn't it? But did we support that? Did we agree with or sympathise with Littlefinger?

And okay, when Jon betrayed Ygritte, who did you agree with more? Did you feel bad for Ygritte but also felt that Jon had done the right thing? Could you see Jon's struggle between love and duty and acknowledge that the right choice wasn't as easy to make?

Why were our reactions different to all those situations? Short answer - motive. Our reaction to betrayals are based on the motive, and how well it is portrayed in the narrative. 'A woman murdered a man' evokes a different reaction than 'a woman executed a man who had led to the death of her own father'. Throw in the fact that he was still trying to get her to kill her sister, and we not only agree with the woman in question here, we are positively cheering her on! Because that's the difference motive makes - it justifies actions otherwise considered wrong, and we have numerous examples of it in Game of Thrones. My personal favorite, of course, is Jaime and the Kingslayer story because it perfectly highlights the difference between us knowing the reason, or judging the action as it stands.

So what could be Jon's motives for playing Dany?

We have the obvious, to protect his family and Winterfell from the unstable witch (that is supposedly Dany on tumblr).

But that's the thing again antis. Dany has never once, not once threatened or even implied in extremely vague terms anything that could be constituted to be a threat to Winterfell or the Starks. In all their interactions, whenever she wanted Jon to bend the knee, she never even went in the general area of threatening his family if he refused to. The issue of family wasn't brought up at all in that sense, so the idea that she would harm his family now, after having clearly developed feelings for him, has only sprung from the minds of the Jonsa Fandom who very much want it to be true because it justifies their POV and their ship. Because the assumption that Dany would want to destroy Winterfell, destroy the Starks and Jon realized this and is appeasing her by catering to her romantic feelings would work extremely well if, if it had been implied anywhere at least once, even if vaguely. But it hasn't been portrayed, and by itself fails to suffice as the motive setting up Jon conning Dany.

Jon will never betray Northern independence for love, and is only faking it to protect the North from Dany's ire.

Considering that the North was already protected from Dany's ire before Jon pledged himself to her, I don't even know where this comes from. Dany promised to fight the White Walkers without asking anything in return (an action which squarely put her in the 'good guy' category), Jon playing her to accomplish something which had already been accomplished is not only senseless, paranoic and unnecessary, but it also would then put him firmly in the douchebag category. Dany let him keep the North, only for him to offer it to her twice, and then ultimately turn right around and say lol, kidding?? Really Jonsa peeps? That makes sense to any of you? Why is it so hard to accept that Jon judged her worthy of his allegiance? But of course, that wouldn't work for the antis and this mess is far more appealing.

About the Northern independence though, I've already mentioned it before, but I'll say it again. The whole 'King in the North' concept arose because the Starks would not accept the Lannisters as their king, not after what they had done. Supporting the Baratheons would have been treasonous and dishonourable, and would have embroiled them in a civil war they had no interest in being part of. The main reason however, was that the Northern Lords had grown disillusioned with the Southern kings who did not care about the Northern issues at all and only paid attention to the North when it was in their own interests. Now, with Daenerys pledging herself to defeat the White Walkers, the entire dynamic of the game had changed, the Southern ruler in point, was not a Lannister or a Baratheons, but a Targaryen, who was coming to save the North instead of abandoning them to their plight and, contrary to popular belief, could in fact be trusted. The North Remembers, and it is this that Jon hopes the North will remember once the Walkers have been defeated, that Daenerys is not her father. So, in short, Jon is not playing Dany for Northern independence because it's frankly ridiculous and the alternative (he feels she's a worthy ruler) makes much more sense in this case.

Jon is playing Dany for Sansa's sake, either because he took her advice about not making mistakes seriously or he's deeply in love with her.

This is a very shipper reason, as canonically there has been no love shown from either of them, but I would have still accepted this reason if they hadn't already made it crystal clear that Jon and Sansa don't agree politically. They both have different views regarding politics, and while Jon does ask her for her opinions, he does what he believes he should do anyway. Also, while Sansa has a more grounded worldview which takes into account people's feelings and motivations - rewarding those true to you for their loyalty (Karstarks and Umbers), taking Cersei more seriously, not abandoning the North and literally everything else, Jon's are more idealistic and based on his strong moral code of 'honor' - not taking the castles away from the Karstarks and Umbers, choosing to believe in Tyrion, putting his own life on the line to save his people (by going to Dragonstone). Jon has been consistently portrayed, all throughout this season, as valuing honor above everything - a very strong Ned Stark trait tbh - and not taking Sansa's advice as seriously as he should (which is what she notices as well, and it upsets her). So with this set-up, believing that he is actually playing Dany because of what Sansa has told him is, quite frankly, a stretch, because there is no narrative indication which would make us believe that. This would also explain Sansa's reaction to learning he had bent the knee, she's resigned to it because she knows that though Jon loves and respects her, he still does what he thinks is the right thing to do. Also, Sansa doesn't berate him for doing what he did in the way she would have had she believed he had been repeating Ned's and Robb's mistakes - - > she doesn't believe he's making those mistakes ie bending the knee to Dany is not disastrous (as the antis would have you believe). Sansa is upset because Jon clearly didn't consider asking Sansa's opinion about a very important political decision, and she's upset because she knows that the Northern Lords will not accept this easily, but she doesn't react as if it's the worst thing in the world ever, nor does she act thoughtful, which would have indicated that all is not as it seems. In short, Sansa's reaction is very much expected under the circumstances, which are that Jon doesn't take her as seriously as he should. And given this, it seems unlikely to imagine that he's in cahoots with Sansa and they're taking down the Dragon Queen together (together! 😂)

Every reason for Jon playing Dany would have worked if the narrative had given some sort of suggestion about a possible motive, some indication of Jon treating Sansa's advice seriously, or made Jon give up the North before she pledged to fight the Walkers. And the nail in the coffin for the 'undercover lover' theory was the Dragonpit scene. Nothing would have cast stronger doubts on whether Jon truly loves Dany or not, than him accepting the truce. Despite it being the smart political move, it would have also raised a tiny red flag regarding Jon's true intentions, in my mind at least. Jon basically had nothing to lose by accepting the truce, nothing except for his honor. And that made him refuse! It wasn't just him making a public proclamation that he loves Dany (although it sorta was 😂), it was him being faced with a choice to sacrifice his honor, his word, to get what he wanted, it was him being asked to choose whether he truly was his father's son, it was him being expected by the one who knew the truth to do the dishonourable thing for the greater good. He could have lied and supported Dany later, he could simply have walked away from the battles to come because they didn't directly concern him and his people and let Dany fend for herself. But would it have been the honorable thing to do? Smarter, yes. Wiser, yes. More beneficial to his own people, yes. But honorable? After taking Dany's help to defeat the White Walkers, which let's be honest, are a far greater threat to the North than anywhere else, after taking her armies and dragons to save his home and then turning his back on her when Cersei came at her with fresh forces would have been as far from honor as possible. If Jon has indeed been playing Dany all along, then he should have accepted Cersei's offer - which would not only have placated the Northern Lords later, but would also have served as a potential hint of him playing Dany. But in keeping with the characteristic theme of this season, Jon chooses honor over the alternative more politically savvy choice. He upset everybody, even Dany, with this choice when he could have gone with the easier one, which would have ensured everyone - those at the Dragonpit as well as the Northern lords - would have been happy with the outcome. Everyone would have gotten what they wanted, and the subsequent - if any - reveal of Jon having played Dany all along would have made much more sense to the audience.

But Jon did not make the easy choice. The deliberate inclusion of this scene was only to portray that even when the choice is tough, Jon would choose honor. This is his character, his identity. Also, the callbacks to Ned Stark, aside from foreshadowing that when the time comes to choose, Jon would most likely choose his Stark heritage, remind us that Ned Stark valued honor above all, and the only times he sacrificed it was over love - love for his sister and love for his daughters, which caused him to abandon his honor for their survival. So for Ned Stark's son to betray a woman who trusts, loves, respects and admires him, a woman who's had the same struggles in life as he himself has, a woman who is willing to set aside her own personal goals to help him destroy the threat to his home, for him to betray a woman who has already given him everything he wanted, is actually a betrayal of Ned Stark's legacy and everything he stood for. By going so far as to blatantly lie in Ned Stark's name, Jon would have, in one stroke, destroyed everything that Ned Stark inculcated and symbolised, given what we already know about him having no motive at all for the undercover lover angle. So the callback to Ned was very necessary in highlighting that Jon is truly Ned's son, and throwing away his honor without an ironclad reason is not his character. It's simply not.

Also, this scene was very important because it very starkly set up the contrast between Jon (and even Dany) and Cersei. Remember how all of us were totally skeptical about believing Cersei at all in the first place? Even after the convincing reason of her wanting to protect her to-be-born child, it still was hard to believe that she would actually help them. And why was that?

'When enough people make false promises words stop meaning anything. Then there are no more answers, only better and better lies.'

As the audience, we now know not to trust Cersei. Even when she's being completely sincere, it's hard to trust her because her words have long since stopped meaning anything to us, she's not someone who's promises we'll ever trust, because as Jon said, they are only better and more elaborate lies. And lies won't help us in this fight. So Jon not lying is very important to show us this difference, of how we basically trust Jon's promises and how cautious we are when it comes to Cersei. And as if that's not enough, Cersei's scene with Jaime lays it all completely out, when Jaime is do adamant about sticking to his promise and is struggling to understand how Cersei could have lied to them.

Cersei: I'll say whatever I need to say to ensure the survival of our house

To Cersei, the priority is only her house, her family, to the point that she can't even acknowledge the enormity of the Northern threat. She's focused on ensuring her family's survival, everyone else be damned. And that is categorically shown as an evil thing. Saying whatever is needed to be said, making false promises, basically everything that the Jonsa fans expect from Jon is clearly and emphatically shown to be evil, to be wrong. The whole purpose of the Dragonpit scene is to bring out this contrast between Jon and Cersei - Cersei doesn't care about futile things such as honor and promises when the question is about her own family's survival, Jon however not only cares about the realm, as a whole, but he also highly values honor and takes his promises seriously. We even have Jaime Lannister (my cute nugget 💖) walk away from Cersei, whom he loves above and beyond all, because of his honor. If, after all this, Jon is shown to not have any honor at all, then...

[maneaterwithtail]

A lot of people were acquainted with him through his prolific participation in News & Politics, but to me Aaron was always an author, one half of the team behind Hybrid Theory. That fic was a bastion of creativity, drama, and wry humor; a ludicrous and ambitious premise, played gloriously straight. It provided me with much-needed hope and entertainment in years past. His death comes as a punch in the gut, and takes the wind of optimism out of my sails.

I never knew him well, and now I never will. Rest in peace, Aaron. The world is lessened by your absence from it.

-orm Ember

I didn't want to write this. 

Not just for the obvious reasons, that nobody likes to say goodbye to a friend like this. I didn't want to make this about me, because it isn't about me. I wanted to say something about him, to tell his story, to express the tiniest part of the loss I feel in a way others could understand. 

But I came to realise that it wasn't for me to tell his story. I can't. That story was for him to tell, and unfortunately, he cannot. The only story I have to tell is the story of us. So that's what I'll do. 

I met Aaron Peori when we were both new in high school, about twenty-five years ago. Glace Bay High was the tenth of the eleven schools that I attended in my eleven years of schooling, and so by then I was almost as well-practiced in "meet new friends" as I was in "meet the new local pack of bullies". Walking home, I noticed one guy about my age that always walked alone, reading a book. In other words, a fellow nerd, a weirdo, an outcast. Like me. After a couple of days of spotting this lone reading fellow, he happened to be reading a book by Christopher Pike, an author I also had books by. That was, as the saying goes, an opening.

"Hey, isn't that a Christopher Pike book?" I asked this stranger, casually, as if I hadn't already known.

He looked up at me, not even showing any surprise that some weirdo had walked up and asked about the book his nose was in. "Yes," he said, peering at me owlishly from behind his glasses, then after a moment added, "He's a good author."

By the time we reached home that day, we were already good friends. From that point on, in fact, we were virtually inseparable, aided by the fact that he lived almost literally in my backyard.

From the very beginning, we were creative collaborators. At first, we were using GI Joes and a few other toys in elaborate setpiece dioramas that spanned his house's enclosed front porch, and sometimes spilled out to occupy part of the year as well. Factions, sacrifices, betrayals, and no doubt embarassing-in-retrospect dialogue were all a part of those first afternoons and weekends.

I think he first got a copy of the Marvel Super Heroes RPG from his cousin. Before I'd met him, Aaron and his cousin had both been drawing their own comics about a space-based superhero team called Sonis. Now, with a tool that you could use tell stories about superheroes, and rules to arbitrate - our new great dioramas were ones made of words, not toys. I quickly made my own "expanded universe", about a group of mercenary superheroes called Heroes For Hire. 

At that point, what turned out to be a very long-lasting pattern was set. Aaron was the GM, and I was the player. Aaron created the worlds, and I lived the characters in them. He did want me to be the GM sometimes (it's more fun being the player!), but I was always uncomfortably aware how much better at it he was than me, and so I felt intimidated to pit my own lesser stories against the epics he created.

As time went on, another pattern that would be long-lasting emerged: Aaron and I's stories became vastly greater in scope. He rewrote the resolution system of the game to account for much higher power levels than the original design used (Ochre feats!), and eventually we dispensed with the rules altogether, playing completely free-form with no set rules and only the occasional dice roll. I learned to handle multiple characters at once, and bored at the success easily reached by my insanely overpowered characters, learned to find more fun in getting them in trouble instead. Aaron learned to handle the narrative challenges faced by trying to craft stories about protagonists who had literal "I win" powers, and weren't very likeable to boot.

Very little of Heroes For Hire would be something I wouldn't be embarassed to show off today, but my former internet nom de guerre "Blade" comes from the most central and overpowered character of those days.

About a year before I left Cape Breton, Aaron and I discovered two things of lasting consequence: anime, via his having a comic adaptation of the movie "Project A-ko" in his huge box of comics that I would regularly raid, and fanfiction, which I had been introduced to via USENET by another friend of mine, Mark MacIsaac. After I left, Aaron had more free time, and thus he started writing a story that combined two of his favourite things: the then-popular anime Ranma 1/2, and Star Wars. 

Aaron wrote prolifically, longhand on sheaths of paper, in his inscrutable and typo-laden scrawl. My role in those first stories, for all they were credited under both our names, was just to type these up and edit them - but that wasn't a small task, to be fair. I can type 60wpm despite still pecking with two fingers instead of touch-typing, a skill that dates to those early manuscripts. 

That level of collaboration, though, wasn't enough. Soon we took to role-playing games again, and I took on various Ranma characters in lengthy phone conversations where he was once again the DM. Those games formed several of the plots for Ranma: Curse of Darkness, and the entirety of the plot of Kyoto Chronicles (sadly never actually finished), along with other stories both Ranma and non that never made it to the internet. Again, he would write the scripts and I would type them up, now with more creative control and editing. 

The time came when we once again lived in the same city, able to really collaborate with both of us writing scenes. All of this finally culminated in Hybrid Theory, our longer-than-Lord-of-the-Rings magnum opus, and something we were both pretty proud of despite the various flaws and that we totally botched poor Rei's character arc.

After writing something like that, we were sure, it would be easy to write something for professional publication. But unfortunately, it never came to be. Circumstances separated us again, several promising projects got stalled after a few chapters, and then the grinding workload he faced at his job hurt his ability to write consistently.

But Aaron never stopped writing fanfiction. His mind never stopped working. Most of what he wrote was "junk" in his words, and he wouldn't even show it to me, but he was still thinking up stories and worlds and his favourite thing of all: elaborate fight scenes. He once told me he could write in any series, no matter how crappy or derivative, "as long as the main characters can run up walls".

It frustrates me that I cannot prove to anyone here how brilliant Aaron was, because that brilliance was hidden behind the various flaws in his prose style. His prospensity for typos never did much improve, though he could at least spellcheck stuff he wrote on a computer rather than longhand. He never got hung up like me searching for the exact right word, and so he often just used the same words over and over. For those that read his last work, I can only explain that I took out a ton of "snaps" - "snapped her head back", "snapped his wrist forward", "the snake snapped out" and yet there are STILL that many in there. I was going to do a much more thorough editing pass when it was finished. 

But that is all surface-level. Where Aaron excelled was in his vision for a setting and story. He could take the ridiculous and make it somehow sublime - indeed, he often challenged himself with making ridiculous or cliche concepts work. He could keep track of a million dancing pieces and know precisely which should enter the stage, and from where. It's not that I didn't contribute meaningfully to our collaborative efforts, but I often felt like a child with crayons colouring in the lines of a sketch by Da Vinci. Even if my colouring was good, it wasn't the masterpiece.

His players knew, though. Another habit Aaron kept for the rest of his life was GMing (though he enjoyed playing, when the opportunity was afforded to him), even if he couldn't do it as much in recent years. Aaron was a masterful GM, able to coax out strong story arcs and dramatic moments from players of any skill level, able to make NPCs that the players hated or loved or both, able to coax rambunctious player parties into dramatic clashes and events that never felt railroaded. But perhaps even more than that, he was a master of making game rules work for him instead of against him. Aaron loved role playing game rules: one of his primary hobbies and uses of his spare cash was to buy new gamebooks, even if he never planned to use them for a game. He'd devour them, expertly analyse their strengths and flaws, modify and house-rule them to his liking, and even a notoriously tricky game to GM like Exalted flowed smoothly in his hands.

His set of replacement Dragonblooded charms are still the best and most flavourful charmset ever made for them. And he always maintained that the best game system to run Star Wars with was the pulp action game Adventure! - which was the very last game I'd play with him. He was, as always on these matters, completely correct.

In another world, even with the problems we had, I'm sure Aaron could have been a published author. The problem, if problem it was, was that Aaron's prolificness stemmed from his own joy in writing and creating. Ultimately, if he was more interested in writing about a magical self-insert Sakura than he was in something "professional", then that's what he did. He took note of criticism and changed things if he got it, but ultimately the only critic whose opinion he internalised was himself. He wrote because he enjoyed writing. If somebody else enjoyed what he did, great. If nobody did, he'd write anyway.

Aaron and I were so close that my father asked me if we were gay once. We weren't - I'm straight, and he was (unknowingly at the time) asexual. But we loved each other anyway. We had the kind of easy camraderie and understanding where we could nostalge and talk for hours upon hours, week upon week, and never get bored even when we didn't have really anything to talk about. We were never bored of each other's company. From that very first day we met, we understood each other in ways that nobody else ever did, or ever would. I never pictured my life without Aaron in it. I was going to be a writer, I knew at 15 years old, with Aaron. I was going to move back to Canada someday - and live near Aaron. 

There is a hole, and it cannot be filled. It hurts, and it will always hurt. And yet I am greater for having it. It is unthinkable to wish that I didn't have it. My life without Aaron is unthinkable. I'll have to think of it, maybe another day, but not yet.

Aaron's last few years were difficult in some ways. He stuck in a predatory, horrible job that left him perpetually sick and exhausted, the only thing in the 25 years I knew him that actually forced him to stop writing and GMing for any length of time. He was too proud to take help, too tired to look for an alternative. He nearly died of a perforated ulcer a few years ago, and that added "chronic pain" to his ailments, and being him, he would only take painkillers when it became unbearable. It was unsustainable, we knew it, but he was always reaching for that promotion that would finally bring the shorter hours he had been asking for. In the meantime, he'd always say "Don't worry about me, I'm fine." I wish he had been right.

And yet.

In those same years, Aaron discovered himself. He discovered that he wasn't the strange not-wanting-sex freak he had grown up thinking he was, that there were many people like him out there. He got in touch with the emotions he had suppressed within himself due to a traumatic childhood experience, and while he sometimes had difficulty handling his newfound sadness (he was striken by grief like I'd never seen over the death of his grandfather) or anger (political topics were verboten in our conversations over the last few years), I believe that for all the pain and overwork and lack of creative output he was still in some ways never happier than he was these last few years.

He told me once that he wanted to find a partner of either gender, who didn't need or didn't want sex, but could be with him and hold him close when he needed it. I cried, and told him I knew he could find someone once he was out of that job. He deserved it. He deserved that happiness too.

This forum (although not solely) had a lot to do with him discovering himself, and that is why I felt I had to post about him here. You meant more to him than you know, and to some of you, though I don't know your names, I owe a debt I can never repay. Whoever you are, thank you so much. You helped him in a way I couldn't. The joy and hope of his last years came from the help you gave him.

And that's the end of the story of us. Aaron was exhausted, pushing himself beyond what he ever should have - now, at least, he can rest. Aaron was in pain, but now the pain is gone. There was nothing good or right or kind or acceptable about it, but it can't be changed, it can't be helped. 

Goodbye, Aaron. I love you. Thank you for writing stories with me.

-Chris Mcneil addressing sufficient velocity forums