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tojigasm · 1 year

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Thinking about Jake Sully and his heavy balls (^з^)-♡

You can't help but moan at the weight of them, pressed up against your soaked folds, pulsating and thick as Jake humps you, tail bouncing.

"Daddy, daddy–" you cry, reaching a small hand back to grasp as his thigh.

Jake soothes you, pulling your hand into his own as he pulled back, thrusting back into your cunt.

"No, no," you nearly sob, whining at the loss of weight, "Daddy, please." You try to pull him back into you.

Jake's ears perk forward, sinking his body to curl over your own as he pulls your hair back to see your face.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He strokes a hand down the dip of your back, "tell daddy," he nuzzles the soft of your cheek, thick hair curtaining around his amber eyes.

You only whine, grabbing at his striped thigh in need.

Jake merely tsked at you, grabbing your hand off of his thigh by your forearm. The sight of his hand dwarfing the size of your arm sending heat to your cunt with a shiver.

"Use your words or daddy stops." He warns, the calloused pad of his thumb rubbing against the underside of your arm as his other slinks down to massage your clit gently.

You hiss at that, ears pinning flat to your head and tail tapping against Jake's thick thigh – which he ignores for the moment, sensing your frustration.

"Daddy!" You cry, kicking your legs as you rub your cheek into the reed of the mat with a pitched whine.

Jake gives a thrust at your whines, balls hitting your folds as he does so.

Immediately, your eyes are rolling and your knees are threatening to buckle.

"Oh," voice thick with tease, "so that's what's goin' on," he gently pushes himself to the hilt inside your tight cunt, thick balls pressed so roughly against your sopping heat you sob.

Jake pulls back again, pressing you deeper into the mat at the dip of your back – sinking his cock into your tight cunt to stroke your gummy walls, the new angle allowing his balls to slap your clit with each thrust.

And it goes on, for as long as Jake likes. You're drooling and sobbing, tears streaming over your cheeks, and your lips are swollen as you cry into the mat.

Jake curls himself over you to cup your head off of the thatched padding and you nearly scream when the swollen tip of his length grazes your cervix, "daddy–fuck!" Your tail winds itself around Jake's thigh.

"If you just needed to feel daddy's balls – shit, you should've just said so." Jake groans, planting a leg up to sink deeper into your warmth. "God, you're so fuckin' tight."

Squealing as his balls tap your cunt, you kick your legs in excitement and you can feel Jake smile against the back of your neck as he presses a soft kiss to your nape.

"Feel good, sweetheart?"

You nod, eyes falling shut as your walls squeeze around his girth, "mhm! Feels so good, daddy,"

Jake chuckles at that, "Yeah, I bet it does." He pulls himself out to the tip before sinking back in, balls hitting your clit with a 'pap, pap, pap'.

"You tell daddy when you're gonna cum, m'kay?" He squeezes the plush of your ass, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with a groan.

You nod again, tears brim the swell for your cheeks as Jake continues to thrust into you, his hair tickling the soft of your back.

He pushes himself upward, bringing a hand back to stroke the base of your tail, making you shiver at the sensation.

"Oh, oh! Daddy – shit!" You cry, walls pulsing around his length.

"I know, I know–" His voice hitches with a guttural moan, "Daddy's gettin' close, kid." His eyes flutter shut when you reach through your spread legs to lightly graze his balls.

"M'gonna cum, daddy!" You sob, ears flattening against your hair and tail coiling around Jake's forearm.

"Me too, baby," his voice strained, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He groaned, pressing himself deeper into your cunt, chest hot against your back as he filled you and heat flooding your cunt and balls pulsing at your clit.

"Christ, kid." Jake panted, pushing his hair up from out of his face, sitting back on his haunches, "Daddy needs a break."

You hummed at that, wiggling your bottom softly as his cum trickled from your soaked folds to which Jake scooped it back, pushing it back into your swollen cunt, making you moan, jolting slightly.

"That sensitive, sweetheart?" His fingers lightly stroking the sticky walls of your pussy.

You nodded, reaching back to push him back by his thigh, "Daddy, stop, s'too sensitive," you whined.

Jake chuckled at that, pulling his hand from your heat to squeeze at the soft of your ass, "Okay, okay, daddy's sorry." He began to kiss the skin of your ass, making his way up to your tail, nipping the base of it teasingly before moving up to help you lie down.

"You and that pussy are gonna kill me one day." Jake brought an arm up to rest over his eyes, gently massaging your sore thighs as you curled into him.

#jake sully x reader #avatar #jake sully x reader smut #jake sully x reader fluff #avatar 2022 #avatar wow #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water smut #avatar the way of water #avatar 2009 #avatar smut #avatar fluff #jake sully smut #jake sully #avatar 2 #avatar 2 smut

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probablyasocialecologist · 6 months

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Modern farmers and landowners, however, are prejudiced against scrub because it is considered unproductive. As a result it has been almost entirely eradicated from Britain. Scrubland is almost ubiquitously described as wasteland. It was not always so. In medieval times, scrub species were highly valued, and scrub was anything but a dirty name. The iron-rod stems of blackthorn were used for walking sticks and its fruit – sloes – for medicines and flavouring wine and gin. Brambles, like elder, produce edible berries that were also useful for dyes. Hawthorn makes good walking sticks, as well as tool handles, and was used for stock-proofing, and produces hawberries for preserves and sauces. Hazel was for hurdles, thatching spars, basketry, furniture and charcoal; willow for charcoal-making and basketry, cricket bats and medicine. Charcoal from alder and dogwood made gunpowder. Broom, of course, made excellent brooms. Juniper was for smoking meats and making pencils, its berries for distilling oil, and flavouring game and gin. Spindle was for skewers, toothpicks and baskets. Wych elm made bows, furniture and threshing floors. Birch provided cotton reels and bobbins, firewood, brooms and roofing thatch; its bark was for waterproofing and tanning. Birch wine, fermented from sap, was used as medicine and young birch leaves were a diuretic. From the dog rose came rosehips – which we now know are exceptionally high in vitamin C – for syrups, sauces and jellies. Gorse – known as ‘furze’ in Sussex – was fodder for animals and fuel for kilns and ovens. A buffer of thorny scrub was often encouraged around woodland to prevent the ingress of grazing animals. Place names like Thorndon, Thornden, Thornbury, Haslemere, Hazeldon, Spindleton, Hathern (hawthorn), Hatherdene, Brambleton, Barnham Broom, Broomhill, Broompark, pepper the map of Britain. Our own field names at Knepp recall the days when scrub was an asset – Benton’s Gorse, Broomers Corner, Broom Field, High Reeds, Cooper Reeds, Faggot Stack Plat, Bramble Field, Rushett’s, Rushall Field, Little Thornhill, Great Thornhill, Stub Mead, Barcover Furzefield, Swallows Furzefield, Coates’ Furzefield, Greenstreet Furzefield, Constable’s Furze, Pollardshill Furze, Old Furze Field, Furzefield Plat, Great Furzefield and lots of Little Furzefields.

Isabella Tree, Wilding: The Return of Nature to a British Farm

#Wilding #trees #scrub #ecology #biodiversity

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bomberqueen17 · 1 month

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archaeology report snippets

So I'm still chewing through Vol II of the Must Farm Site Reports. Vol I was a bit dry but comparatively breezy, like 350 pages of summary. Vol II is the specialist reports, broken out by topic, and it is. Well. Dense. (I'm on page 1189 of Vol II, and have just reached the section on coprolites, LOL.)

But. I printed off a map of the site while reading Vol I, and have been notating things on it as I read. And so I can do things like. Well, I got to the bit about the beads, and noted down the findspot of the one assemblage of beads that very, very likely was a strung necklace (including the large amber bead, the photo of which in the fingers of a finder is the main image on the post I reblogged about the whole thing)-- and was able to put together that this necklace was probably dropped very close to the likely location of an exit door from the structure. Some of the beads were shattered by the heat, but the amber bead was only slightly charred-- and amber burns very well and readily, as I found out when I had my own house fire some years ago. (RIP those earrings I loved)

More random observations under the cut, and I do mean random. I should write up a proper summary sometime, and maybe I will, but I'm still going through the first readthrough. So this is just scattershot Things I Care Deeply About.

Among the textile finds was a lot of flax. Flax seeds, in caches-- some near the food but others not, likely seeds for replanting the next year. Flax stalks, unprocessed. Flax fiber, processed. Flax spun into thread. Linen fabric.

There was also a lot of flax debris all over the floor. They'd rippled, broken, and scutched the flax indoors. Flax seeds and chaff everywhere! But the floors seem to have been covered in grass and reed mats, largely. And there were live sheep in the houses, who left shit scattered around, much of which charred and was preserved. So I suppose a few flax seeds and some chaff wasn't going to add a great deal to the assemblage that wasn't already there.

The flax wasn't retted.

The wheat had been picked by hand, and then the wheat straw had been uprooted to harvest it in as long a length as possible. The straw was woven into mats and some might have been roof thatch.

They ate wheat prepared several ways, and they seem to have stored it still in the hulls, then threshed a few days' supply at once, then roughly ground it, and only finished grinding it more finely into flour right before using it. In a wet environment this made the most sense to keep it from spoiling. They made the wheat into porridge, dough, and also several pots were found with mixtures that included a lot of unpalatable chaff-- possibly they were brewing this mixture, as the chaff would give the necessary breathing room for fermentation to take place.

The textile remnants were all preserved by charring, so there's no information remining about color. No evidence of dyeing exists in the region until a bit later, the Iron Age. But there were roots of yellow iris in the corner of the building where the loom probably was, and one had been neatly cut in half: yellow iris is occasionally used in medicine, but is also a decent yellow dye.

It was the Bronze Age, and there were many bronze tools discovered-- a sort of "set" in each of the households, like everyone had around the same quantity of tools for various purposes. But there were also a bunch of flint tools discovered. Bronze Age worked flints aren't anything on the artistry of those of earlier eras, but the basic functional knowledge was obviously retained, and I feel like the little flint knives were like shitty plastic-handled scissors of today, you'd get one and use it until it broke and toss it and then go whack another flake off the household flint core. There were flint "querns" in three of the houses, similar in shape to the stone querns used to grind grains, but the flint ones would leave dangerous razor-sharp shards if they were used for food, and in other contexts have baffled archaeologists-- why would you make a quern out of a dangerous material? Here's the answer: They were used as sandpaper. If you had a wooden item you wanted to sand smooth, you used the flint block for it. You also, in a pinch, could flake yourself a new cheap little knife off the side of it.

There were a few human bones discovered and all of them were old. Most of them were in the mud under the houses, as if they'd been deposited just before the houses were built. One was a near-complete skull that was worn smooth with handling, and possibly had been worked immediately after its owner (a young probably woman)'s death to make the base flat so it could sit on a shelf or table. One was an arm bone with butchering marks on it, gnawed by dogs at some past point. There was a vertebra, in one of the houses there was somebody's adult canine tooth, and outside the wall of the settlement there was a bit of a femur that had been roughly handled (possibly deposited from the earlier causeway there, which the settlement had been built overtop the ruins of). Only one bone had charring to suggest it had been in the conflagration, it was a bit of a skull and had apparently been somewhere in one of the houses as it burned-- maybe in the roof rafters. So it seems like there was some practice with dedicating a site with human remains? It doesn't read like ancestor worship, which had been my first thought, but those descriptions-- well obviously their ideas of what was suitable or respectful were different than mine but. They read more like offerings, perhaps. Impossible to know! But fascinating. None of the human remains are of the people who lived there, that's fairly certain given the age of the bones and the contexts. (Another bit of analysis: isotopes of the bones suggest their owners had eaten highly terrestrial diets, while we know from coprolites and fish bones that the people in the pile dwellings were eating fish.)

Most of the collapsed buildings lie in such a way that it's clear they were not disturbed after the burning, no attempts were made at salvage, the site was not interfered with. Except for one of the buildings, Structure 3, which was damaged in the 1970s so we don't have much of it-- but of what's there, several of the timbers are disarranged in a way that doesn't make sense for how the building would have collapsed, and one of the beams especially looks as though someone flung it aside sometime after the building collapsed-- possibly much later-- but before the site was buried in sediment. Either a survivor coming back just to look for one important thing, or a much later scavenger poking around? Impossible to say. But it wasn't beavers, and no other animals would bother with timbers like that. And whatever they were looking for, they didn't disturb any of the other ruins-- at least, not of the ones that survived to be excavated. It is important to remember, as we discuss the site, that given the shape of the palisade and the extent of the quarrying nearby, there were probably originally twice as many buildings at least, if not more, and no trace survives of the rest.

While there's no evidence of bronze casting at the site, suggesting all the bronze implements would have been imported from elsewhere (and their somewhat-diverse origins don't contradict this, though many of them are similar/of similar material), the pottery does seem to be local. The assemblage of pots also all have a fairly strong stylistic resemblance to one another, but are not all made with the same level of skill. It seems very likely that within the community were several potters, some more experienced and some novices, and the work was shared among them, but they clearly worked in close proximity and shared stylistic preferences and techniques. One pot in particular is rather lopsided and there's a lump where the clearly-novice maker thinned the wall too much and had to glob more clay on to fix the hole. They broke a lot of pots-- estimates put it at a pot per week across the whole settlement, a pot per month per house-- and it was mostly the cooking pots that got broken. It's possible to estimate how many people were eating in each house by counting how many eating bowls and drinking cups there were.

Piece after piece of evidence tells us this settlement didn't last long-- the wood was green when it burned, and oak seasons in a year or two; there are no signs of nuts or fruit which ripen in late autumn; the wood was all cut at once sometime between March and September given the state of the sap in it, and the pilings were certainly driven when the water was at its lowest in the winter; the articulated lamb skeletons totally free of any evidence of butchery were probably live lambs when the fire started and given their age and the time lambs are born it was late summer or early autumn when they died.

To that I'll add that I know flax ripens in high summer and the debris of processing it was all over the floors.

Piece after piece of evidence suggests these people were farming on dry land, had largely terrestrial diets. But they were also eating fish, we know from the arcs of pike bones scattered outside the footprints of the houses. There's very little residue of fish in their cooking pots, but we also know they were eating it, and eating it undercooked or raw in some instances, because of the parasite eggs in their coprolites. And the absence of roundworm eggs suggests they did not spend much time in terrestrial living settings; many of those sites when explored show evidence of roundworm infestations. I haven't seen this conclusion drawn yet in the literature but that suggests to me that they came to this pile-driven settlement from another one, if they only spent at most a year here. But that's just my concusion.

I keep not looking at the index of Vol II so I keep thinking I'm at the end and then there's another chapter. The joys of reading a PDF rather than a paper book, LOL. Oh I'm almost at the end! OK let me read this last chapter then. Oh it's a report on the mechanics of the conflagration. Okay. This is the central mystery! Well they say up front they can't possibly tell what caused it.

Other pile-driven lake-dwelling settings from similar eras are known to have been burned down, possibly deliberately, and then rebuilt over the top of the ruins, probably because the buildings would be so difficult to maintain and it would be easier to reuse the prime settlement spot without the debris of old, failing buildings. This was very, very clearly not that.

"The presence of so many items of apparent value and use within the conflagration debris, and the deep, localized char patterns on timbers left to smoulder for many hours undisturbed, when a person present could have easily separated them to extinguish the last burning elements and to save useful timbers from destruction, suggest the inhabitants were either unwilling or unable to respond to the fire, or else unaware of the destruction." (p. 1264)

They think it started in the southeast-middle of Structure 1, and collapsed the roof of it rather quickly but not before spreading to the others. But there are no signs of any attempts to put it out. The smoke would have been visible for miles, even if by some weird chance everyone in the settlement was out doing something like tending the dryland fields their crops were obviously in (there's no way this would be true for a routine reason, you just can't leave premodern houses untended like that, somebody is home to tend the fire and start dinner, that's just got to be how it works, but even if everyone had gone out they would see the smoke and come back!); it's not like there wasn't water all around to use to put out a fire. It starting in one place not many, with no sign of accelerants or fuel caches placed around to speed it, is a sign that it wasn't intentionally set, but it's just plain bizarre that nobody tried to put it out, or tried to salvage anything from the houses, or even just set loose the live animals that were in the houses who surely would have fled (they weren't tiny lambs, they were a few months old, well old enough to run).

Something happened, but we just can't know what. The fire burned unattended, un-interfered-with: nobody was inside. We simply can't know why.

#must farm #bronze age #british history #archaeology

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synintheraven · 7 months

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✵pairing: sihtric kjartansson x fem!reader

✵summary: the crew goes raiding in an attempt to gain riches and reader keeps taunting Sihtric as he's still reluctant to her being there at all.

✵tw: mentions of blood/violence, violence, fire (as in provoked fire, burning stuff?)

✵word count: 1,5k (note: will try to keep chapters about this long so I can divide the story into many chapters hehe)

characters info | part one | part three

It was raining. The air smelt of wet grass and damp earth, filling my nostrils. Watching as water drenched the timber of the floor, or how drops fell from the thatched roof over our heads.

It was a cold, dark night and I missed the warmth offered by fire and a dry cloak over my shoulders. But everyone was sleeping and no one suspected a few wolves were quietly wandering among sheep.

We had managed to find a small village, still safe from the clutches of the Great Army’s Danes. It lay on the Black Bourn River, hidden behind willow trees and yellow reeds: looking like no more than an old ruin from afar, but with enough riches to fill our ship.

The place was scattered with small houses going inland, following the road through empty fields and skinny farm animals, stopping where a sad tree marked the entrance. There were no guards, no fighters; only a few old hounds and a single rusty bell to the far side of the village, near the deserted docks.

Yggr was standing by the entrance of the hut, peering outside as we waited behind him. The place smelt like animal dung and water was passing through the holes in the thatch. But we had swords in our hands and eyes sharp, ready to surprise sleeping Saxons.

—Sihtric, Y/N: you two, go. —He beckoned towards the thegn’s house, whose position was given away by the bigger size of its estate.

We went fast, but quietly. Keeping hold of our weapons and avoiding puddles, walking carefully through the bushes.

Sihtric went first, guiding me through the village as he avoided the light from torches and bonfires. Searching for a way into the hut, for doors creaked and we couldn’t risk getting caught, at least not until we had seized the thegn.

We had managed to find an uncovered window, revealing a small area with a table and leftovers from supper still scattered around. It was our way in, though we needed to remain unnoticed.

I jumped through, and scooted the room to ensure there was no one else around, looking for spying eyes before Sihtric came through. Yet the darkness of the room hid no one, not even when thunder brought some light through the wooden window.

The man we were searching for was resting only a few steps away from us, a poor straw wall being the only thing in between us and the four of them; two children, the man’s wife and our target. I moved slowly, approaching his wife and kids, while Sihtric stood behind the man.

He held his short sword to the man’s throat, awakening him with a soft blow on the chest before speaking. —Where’s the silver? —He said in English, but to me it sounded like he was making up words.

The Saxon’s answer was decisive, for it was up to him whatever we were to do next: he could either scream, therefore have Yggr burn everything and everyone to the ground, or he could stay calm and save everyone by giving us a simple answer. Yet by the Dane's reaction, I suspected his answer wasn’t the one we wanted.

—You lie! —He bellowed with a frown, awaking the man’s family. —Tell me where the silver is or she will kill them.

The man remained calm, despite the cold steel threatening the flesh from his neck. His wife, however, looked around with eyes wide open and sat on the furs determined to cry for help, though my sword pointing towards the kids made her reconsider.

—Burn in hell, heathen. —The thegn snarled back, spitting on Sihtric’s face while his kids and wife felt nothing but terror.

Whatever he had said set the Dane’s eyes ablaze and, all of a sudden, there was nothing but rage in his face. Stumbling on his own feet and with his eyes fixated on his poor wife’s worried expression, the man had his wrists tied together and was then forced out of the hut.

Rain drenched their clothes as they stood in the front yard, both facing the burning huts and Yggr’s warriors as they looted the place.

—You chose your pride over your people, now you’ll see them burn! —He spoke loudly, kicking the man’s legs and forcing him on his knees. Then, I suppose, proceeded to repeat what he had said in English, causing the man to twitch around and try to get rid of Sihtric's hold.

But there was no way back. Yggr and his men had heard us and set the thatched roofs ablaze.

It was quite a sight; fire burning bright in the dark night, as the storm and the villagers tried to stop it from spreading. Some men attempted to go after our crew and tried to use hooks, small axes or whatever they could find to defend their belongings, their land. And they died or got seriously injured, fighting with skilled warriors and not mere farmers like them.

Yggr was standing only a few steps from us, stopping his frenzy for a moment to look at the thegn. The light from the fire lit his blonde hair and the fresh blood running down his axe, which he pointed towards us. —Is this what you want, Saxon? —He said with a deep voice, loud enough to be heard despite the heavy storm and screaming warriors around him. —Show me the silver and I’ll spare your life and those of your people.

Sihtric held the man’s head, forcing him to look at our Jarl. He must have been trying to seem strong and unbreakable, looking somewhere into the sky while murmuring unknown words; but a man’s pride has limits, and we had pushed his too far.

—Enough! —He pointed with his head, sighing as my Dane companion forced him to stand once again. —It’s inside the well, there!

The formidable Norse swung his axe around, allowing the water rain to wash the blood from the steel as he moved it towards the startled Saxon. The man was brought closer to the well, which was covered in mush, grass and a few rocks, a subtle cover for the hoard hidden inside.

But as the men searched for treasure, I remained next to the house; still pointing my sword at one of the kid’s throats, his sobbing mother watching as her husband surrendered what little wealth they had to us.

One full bucket of trinkets and the few horses we managed to steal, that was all. Merely enough to buy dirty furs or grain, far from Yggr’s dream to become a proper lord on his first week raiding East Anglia.

The Ragnarsson’s Army had scourged Britain and rid it of the bigger, wealthier riches, and there was nothing we could do about it. We had too little a number to fight them, let alone to try and invade the only territory that remained Saxon and clean of Danes: Wessex.

That was the country’s jewel, the only one that couldn’t be taken. A kingdom that promised the dreamiest treasures and plenty of big, fertile lands for each and every warrior following the brothers.

There was word that King Alfred’s kingdom was stronger since the King’s brother passed, but we Danes and Norse thought the bastard was only lucky; for there were more ships navigating the rivers each day, all of them coming from their homes in the North.

I was sitting next to Sihtric, silently watching the dancing flames in front of us as he sharpened his sword. While Yggr sat near the crumbling wall on the far side of the camp, staring somewhere into the foggy land around us.

It was a dark cold night, without a single star in the sky. The thick fog covering the land around us and the heavy rain falling on the river, deafening every other sound.

Our hiding place now had a timber wood floor and a poorly built thatched roof, along with a small bonfire to warm us. Though we still had no walls, the tall pillars built by giants being the only kind of cover against wandering strangers and the autumnal weather.

—Those tall buildings with old men in dirty robes. That’s where the good stuff is at. —Said a man sitting behind us, loud enough to be heard despite the storm. —We won’t survive long here, trapped in these muddy ruins like a hare surrounded by wolves.

—Soon, hare, you’ll become the wolf. —Sihtric paused, his eyes fixed on a deep nick over the sword’s blade. —But there’s nothing left for us in those places, or here in East Anglia.

—Where are we going, then? —I interrupted, taking the weapon from his grip. —To put this big boy knife of yours to good use, I hope.

Sihtric barely showed a smirk, but I could tell he wasn’t happy sharing his belongings with me, nor with my teasing jokes. —Until the scouts come back, nowhere. —He slowly took his sword back then cleared his throat awkwardly, but kept his bold, mismatched look on me.

—You’re going spying. —Said Yggr, joining us to stand beside the fire, his hands hovering over the warmth. —I can’t sit and wait for them to return, so you’ll join Ivar Ragnarsson in Mercia. Just the two of you.

#sihtric x reader #sihtricxreader #sihtric x you #tlk fanfiction #tlk fanfic #sihtric kjartansson x you #sihtric kjartansson x reader #my writing #rtv #road to valhalla

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blueopinions49 · 4 months

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Healthy/Unhealthy Type 5

Healthy Social 5

Milo Thatch (5w4 so/sp)- he rejects allot of the traditional notion about the E5 we usually see. He is open about his feelings and is extremely extroverted, always eager to share his knowledge . He is always able to express how he feels and live in the moment.

Barbara Gordon (5w6 so/sx)- Even at her lowest Barb is always capable of thinking of solutions. She's always there for the team and always open to helping others.

Dale Cooper (5w4 so/sx)- The most charismatic E5 in media. He was always up to learn about things and kept a very clear mind on what was going on in the moment. Always seemed to care about getting his facts right and was open to understanding others.

Unhealthy Social 5

Doctor Doom (5w4 so/sx)- I was very close to typing him as an SO3 but honestly after paying a bit more attention it's very clear he is an SO5. Dooms whole idea revolves around outsmarting Reed Richards and proving he is his superior drives him into obsession and isolation.

Beth Harmon (5w6 so/sp)- Her desire to be the best at chest drives her to obsession and as the series goes on we see her disintegrate towards 8 and eventually moving back to her normal self. In the end we see a Beth who has let go of her need of perfection in chest and just finds enjoyment in the sport.

Quan Chi (5w6 so/sp)- His desire for knowledge intertwines with his need for power and control. Eventually deciding to create and army of the undead and resurrect multiple people who have been long gone.

Healthy Self-preservation 5

Peter Parker TASM (5w6 sp/sx)- This version of Peter Parker is more focused on the look for knowledge and understanding. He is a bit less focused on the external world but rather his own personal understanding of his family. However he never rejected others and always stayed

Wednesday Adams (5w4 sp/so)- While she can be looked at as detached from others. In the second movie we see a Wednesday who clearly has her heart in the right place. She is caring and always looking for the vest for her family.

Ellie Chu (5w6 sp/so)- At the beginning of the film we see her reduce her self as much as possible trying to go by unnoticed. but as the movie goes on we see her become more open about her feelings and stop being afraid of creating connections with others.

Unhealthy Self-preservation 5

Donnie Darko (5w4 sp/so)-In the movie we see him spiral completely down and detach himself from others.

Walter White (5w6 sp/so)- Wanting to feel alive in the little time he has he decides to over indulge and let him self go. He disintegrates towards 8 a bit each season. In the end eventually loosing everyone.

Haymitch Avarnethay (5w6 sp/so)- Due to the effects the games had on him we see him make a slow move to 8. While he is Katniss mentor we see him improve himself and become more centered in reality.

Healthy Sexual 5

Simon Petrigrof (5w6 sx/sp)- In the beginning of F&C we meet back with him completely sad and focused on getting Betty back. He has comply withdrawn from others and grew to believe he didn't have ay value outside of getting with Betty. In the end of the show we see him make peace with Betty and moving on.

James (EOFW) (5w4 sx/sp)- He spent allot of time detached from others and due to this he believed he has APD. However when Alissa finds him they become close and form a bond that couldn't be broken. While their Journey has consequences they were able to come together to figure out in the end.

Alan Wake (5w4 sx/so)- While allot of his actions are morally dubious, his desire was always to share the stories he had to tell. And his love for Alice kept him sane in the dark place.

Unhealthy Sexual 5

Hannibal Lecter (5w4 sx/so)- His intense desire to have a relationship with Will Graham sends him spiraling down to the point of obsession.

Gendo Ikari (5w4 sx/so)- He completely withdraws from the world once he loses Yui and neglects Shinji in the process. He eventually tries to make the third impact happen in order to get over the core fear of enneagram 5.

Mother Miranda (5w6 sx/so)- She intended to substitute someone else's baby for her own...Yeah pretty self explanatory. Her desire to have that special bond with Eva takes her to dark places. Eventually neglecting her "children" this eventually causing all of them desiring her personal admiration and validation (dying for it too).

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