#it has to have a certain standard of quality

[scrapironflotilla]

As usual with anything historical, there's no single reason an army decides to do anything. Monocausal answers are horseshit.

There are a couple of boring but important things that haven't been mentioned yet, and probably the most important of them is cost.

The British army before 1914 was small by European standards. A couple of hundred thousand at most and entirely volunteers.

The French army on the other hand (most Continental armies tbh) we're conscript based, and as such much, much bigger. When you have to build up a supply of weapons to equip a mass army, unsurprisingly, it costs a lot of money. One likely reason for keeping the spike bayonet is probably that it was cheaper and easier to produce than a decent quality blade.

Doctrine also plays a part in this sort of stuff, but ultimately in peacetime budgets matter more than doctrine, and an army has to make do with what the government gives them.

Regarding doctrine, I can't speak for the French, but I can say that by about 1910 the consensus was that the firefight would decide the outcome, so it was more important to have a good rifle and good field artillery than an amazing bayonet/sword/lance. The assault was the final part of the battle, and only possible once you had achieved fire superiority and down the fire of the enemy. They knew before WW1 that trying to make the assault before the enemy's fire had been diminished was a recipe for disaster. The assault was the final part that broke the enemy and forced them to retreat. There wasn't an expectation of the infantry getting into a long, drawn out melee battle. Instead, the idea was that you would charge an already demoralised enemy, maybe engage in a short melee, but hopefully most of the enemy would flee.

People make fun of the British (and more generally European) ideas about the flash of steel striking fear into the enemy's heart. But it's not as stupid as it sounds, the idea of melee combat was/is genuinely frightening.

I can dig through my research tomorrow and find my notes on 'the assault' in British thinking. Unfortunately, I don't really have anything specifically on bayonets. But the Royal United Services Institute journals going back to the early?-19th century are online and I believe open access. There's certain to be some articles on bayonets in them.

Open question: what motivated the British and German to move away from that mentality of keeping the reach advantage in designing bayonets for their late 19th century rifles, where the French Lebel not only stuck with the long rifle long bayonet combo but doubled down on turning it into more of a pike by adopting a cruciform blade ? I think I can easily see the thinking behind the later, just make it a simple stabbing weapon used in infantry charges, was the opposite thinking of essentially turning the bayonet into a combat knife based on a more modern approach of what situations would see melee combat happen in say British military doctrine ?

[quibbs126]

This is a thing I’ve thought of before, but honestly I’d really like to see essentially a reboot of the 80s Transformers cartoon. Or I guess specifically what I want, taking the plots from the g1 show and then putting them into a modern TV series with current day writers

Because like, I feel like g1 has so many interesting ideas, both in episode plots and general lore and character things, and I need to see them in a series that isn’t a glorified toy commercial the original technically is (I mean okay, the shows always kind of are that, but by modern day they’re not only that. You get what I mean)

Granted at some point, the two series would probably have to diverge in plot, considering that this reboot would probably have an actual continuity to the plots instead of how g1 doesn’t really have much of that outside of introducing new characters, and with continuity and I assume less silly g1 logic, I don’t think the plots can stay the same. But I’d be really interested to see where it goes

Am I making sense? I feel like I’m over explaining, and by doing so, making even less sense

I want the plot of g1, or at least large chunks of it, to be taken and then put into a modern day show, and see how the writing of modern day series changes it. Because a lot of it’s interesting to me and I think it needs more

And maybe also how the evolution of the Transformers lore itself changes things, but I’m less certain on that. There’s a charm to me about how mechanical the g1 bots are, being able to be disassembled and be completely fine and such

[illmoraineakoi]

Yeah, I'm fairly sure that it was just Alan not caring to be 100% consistent and taking "shortcuts". Which, in all fairness, he was completely in his right to do, no shame on him, I think I'd prolly do the same. Especially since AvA 2 & 3 were before he decided to lean into the "series" as his career, so he was making these for the fun of it at the time. He's allowed to be a little lazy lmao

I think it'd be interesting to see how current day Alan and his team would handle animating the ball and chain, if they did a backstory episode/flashback about Chosen akin to Victim's. There's definitely a higher bar of quality in the current style/animation process, but you do still occasionally get those little "cheaty" moments, but they're much harder to spot if your not going frame by frame bc they happen so fast.

Regardless, I hadn't realized it was mostly on the left leg; I'd thought that it was pretty much even between the two. Looking back, however, I can see how my eyes might've been misidentifying the direction/position of his body in some instances.

This one, for example:

I thought the shackled leg was behind the other one, and bc the bend of the arm makes it clear he's facing upwards, that would make it appear as his right. But it could just as easily be in front of the other leg, thus being the left.

Although, in my defense, there are some moments around this instance where it does look like it's on the right side:

The shackled leg looks like it's positioned behind the other while Chosen is facing to the left and upwards respectively. This would make the shackled leg his right one.

This is another that stood out to me as being potentially right leg, as it appears to me that Chosen's body is facing left rather than towards the background.

And then there's this one, where Chosen IS facing towards the background (bc he's climbing on the text) with his left arm and upper back overlapping his right arm. Following that positioning, it makes the most sense for the shackled leg to be his right one.

Honestly, I'm starting to think that Alan was just picking the leg that was closest to the ball most of the time, prolly cuz it was the easiest to animate the chain for.

Anyway, attempting to figure out where Chosen is looking or how he's standing is admittedly a bit difficult due to the early/old wonky animation. Which, as a sidenote, is something that current AvA has improved upon massively, perhaps even perfected. That's actually one of the ingenious things of Orange's head design; because it's always meant to be oriented a certain way, alterations to that orientation/positioning help our brains identify where he's looking or facing; which then helps with the rest of his body's positioning. With the solid-heads, however, it's the opposite: we use the body as the indicator of how they're positioned. It's really freaking neat!

That's likely a reason why each of the Hollowheads now have a canon head design as well; It's much easier to notice which way Chosen is looking in his current style bc his head is always the same shape/design. The limb style has also been firmly established, with a standardized thickness and length, which also helps in determining which limb is which.

It's just really cool to see how something as simple as "conveying which way a stick figure is positioned" has evolved over the past ~20 years, into a skill that Alan and his team have mastered beautifully.

Anyway, I think the general consensus is that the shackle was on his left leg, despite teenaged Alan's probable "Eh, it doesn't really matter that much" attitude towards it when he was making it lmao

[Which, second sidenote: Goes well with the fact that Chosen, while shown to be ambidextrous, primarily uses his right hand as his dominant. The chain being on his left leg was probably slightly more comfortable for him than if it'd been on the same side as his dominant hand. And that's neat too!]

Context: In the animation of AvA 2 and 3, the shackle actually switches legs fairly frequently, making it impossible for there to be a “correct” (or at least consistent) answer. I am curious if there is a fandom consensus or preference on the matter.

Feel free to reblog to explain your thoughts if you want to.

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK A PILE: What do people feel when they look into your eyes?

How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images above. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you go ahead and read both!

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── .✦ PILE I

cards pulled: The world reversed, 10 of wands, Ace of wands, 3 of pentacles, 2 of pentacles.

Hello pile 1! So starting off with your reading, your eyes hold weight. Like, people stare into them and feel this deep, almost overwhelming pull as if you know things. You know when someone makes eye contact and immediately looks away? That’s why. Your gaze makes people feel exposed. 

Maybe, Your eyes look different depending on the mood you’re in. It’s almost supernatural. When you’re deep in thought, they can look distant like you’re somewhere else entirely. But when you’re focused on someone? It’s game over for them. Your gaze locks them in place, and they suddenly forget how to breathe. Another hit I’m getting your eyes glow in certain lighting. Like, maybe in the golden hour sun, or under dim lighting, there’s this otherworldly sheen to them. People notice it and get caught in a daze. You could be walking past someone, and they’ll turn back just to check if they really saw what they think they saw. (Hint: They did, and now they can’t stop thinking about it.)

But here’s the thing your energy isn’t necessarily intimidating; it’s just unfiltered truth. People sense that you carry wisdom, resilience, and maybe even some silent battles that have shaped you. The World reversed tells me that people feel like you’ve seen life’s highs and lows, and it shows in the way your eyes hold untold stories. Some might feel comforted by that, but others? Oof they go into a full-on existential crisis when they meet your gaze. people look into your eyes and get this weird mix of heavy emotions and admiration. Like, they see a depth that reminds them of their own struggles, but at the same time, they see someone who is still standing, pushing forward, making things happen.  But (and this is interesting), people also feel a need to prove themselves to you. The Three of Pentacles tells me that when people lock eyes with you, there’s this unconscious pressure to be better, to work harder, to impress you. Your eyes challenge people, like, “Are you really putting in the effort? Are you really stepping up in your life?” And some people LOVE that they want to earn your respect. But for others? They shrink. They can’t handle being held to a silent standard.

Now, let’s talk about the fire in your gaze. Because it’s not all deep emotional weight and existential reckoning your eyes also ignite something in people. The Ace of Wands is passion, energy, inspiration your gaze has this spark that wakes people up. It’s like staring into pure potential people look at you and suddenly start daydreaming about big moves, wild possibilities, and even risky choices they never considered before. Also... I HAVE TO SAY IT some people get lowkey obsessed with you because your eyes make them feel ALIVE. Like, they weren’t even thinking about you that way, but now? They’re pacing their room at replaying that one glance you gave them. 😭. People can’t pin you down, and that drives them INSANE. Your gaze shifts between calm and intense, warm and unreadable, steady and playful people never know what’s coming next. And THAT? That’s dangerous. They start overanalyzing, wondering, “What did that look mean? Did they just read my mind? Do they hate me? Do they secretly love me??” And now they’re in a full-blown mental crisis because of you.

Your eyes have this almost ethereal, timeless quality like they’ve seen things beyond this lifetime. The Soft yet piercing contrast is WILD. Your eyes can look gentle one second, then suddenly hold a gaze so powerful it makes people nervous. They flicker between warmth and unreadability, and that unpredictability makes people obsessed.  I hope this reading resonated with you, Thank you for reading till here, i hope you have an amazing day! Sending you all the love and good vibes!

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── .✦ PILE II

Cards pulled: 9 of pentacles, Queen of swords, 9 of wands, Page of swords, Wheel of fortune.

HELLO pile 2! Okay, listen. Your eyes? They do NOT play around. Your eyes carry this deadly mix of wisdom, confidence, and just a little bit of "don't mess with me" energy. There’s an air of control like you’re the one observing, assessing, deciding whether someone is worth your time. And BABY, people feel that. They know they have to come correct with you, or not come at all. Your eyes are DANGEROUSLY ATTRACTIVE.

Your eyes have that “I see through you” energy.  I am seeing so many words to describe you eyes, like Passionate, rebellious, playful but intense. These eyes command attention. They’re the type that makes people flustered or lose their train of thought mid-sentence. There’s also something undeniably seductive about them not just in a romantic way, but in a “I can’t stop looking at you” way. Your gaze slices through the BS like a sword. People who are fake, insecure, or hiding something? They literally can’t hold eye contact with you for too long because they feel exposed (and maybe even a little judged). They are also Elegant but lethal. Your eyes have that old-money, untouchable confidence. You don’t even need to say "I told you so" your eyes already did. I feel like, yall know HOW to use your eyes in your favour, and if not, i beg you besties to learn that😭you would literally unlock another whole level of magic.

I also see that your eyes scream self-sufficiency, like you know exactly who you are and what you bring to the table. People get the sense that you’re impossible to own they either meet your standards or they’re dismissed. your eyes are so freaking sharp and observant, it’s almost unnerving. People feel like you pick up on everything tiny changes in their tone, subtle body language shifts, the way their hands fidget when they lie. The wheel of fortune signifies the unpredictability of your energy. Your eyes don’t just see people they make them feel like anything could happen. This tells me the mystery your eyes hold is a huge part of your personality. There’s a karmic pull people don’t just glance at you and move on. Your gaze leaves an impact that lingers long after they look away.

Your eyes could Mysterious most of the times, even if you don’t try. Some people have deep, soulful eyes that pull you in and whisper secrets. YOURS is the king That tell people, “Try and figure me out. Good luck, though.” There’s a challenge in your gaze, and it drives people CRAZY.

Just like pile 1, your eyes could also look different depending on your mood. When you’re calm, they’re collected, regal, and unreadable. But when you’re passionate about something? They light up like fire, and suddenly, everyone is hyper-focused on you. But they ALWAYS hold that sense of mystery to them.  I’m getting cat energy sleek, unpredictable, untouchable. If you stare too long, it feels like you’re reading minds.

People feel drawn to you, not just for your looks but for the energy you carry, one that’s both mysterious and captivating. There’s a quiet confidence in your gaze that makes people want to know more, yet they also recognize that you don’t let just anyone in. Whether it’s admiration, curiosity, or a little bit of intimidation, one thing’s for sure, people don’t forget the way you look at them.That was intense, but I LOVED every second of it. 😭 Thank you for reading till here, i hope you have an amazing day! 

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── .✦ PILE III

Cards Pulled: 2 of swords, the moon, 8 of pentacles, page of cups, 9 of swords.

Omg. Okay. When people look into your eyes, it’s like they’ve suddenly stepped into a thriller movie. No, seriously. There’s a hypnotic depth here, which is too obvious. Pile 3, your eyes hold a mystery that people can’t quite put their finger on. There’s something dreamy, distant, and almost otherworldly about them

Let’s start with the obvious: People feel confused, intrigued, and just a little bit haunted when they look at you. Babe, you radiate the type of energy that makes people second-guess what they are doing. Like, they’re staring at you, trying to figure out what’s going on behind those eyes, and suddenly, they’re re-evaluating their whole existence. 💀 Your eyes hold secrets. Unspoken words. Feelings that can’t be named. They might see flickers of sadness, nostalgia, or even a past life connection that lowkey freaks them out (in a good way). But let’s be real, you don’t let people in easily. That 9 of Swords here tells me you’ve seen things. You’ve felt things. Your eyes carry the weight of emotions you don’t always verbalize, and people feel that heaviness, even if they can’t explain it.

But here’s the thing, they’re not just drawn to your depth; they’re drawn to your creativity, your softness, your quiet hope. The Page of Cups is giving, “There’s a dreamer behind these walls.” And omg, people can SENSE that. Your eyes have this soft, artistic melancholy, like someone who writes poetry or listens to sad indie songs while staring at the stars.  There’s something about your gaze that commands respect. People see work ethic. Strength. Determination. Your eyes say, “I’ve worked for everything I have,” and people feel that energy before you even open your mouth. It’s giving silent resilience. Like, someone could stare into your eyes and KNOW you’ve had moments where you were tired, drained, on the edge of breaking down, but you never did. And That’s powerful.

Some people, They straight-up don’t know what to do with your energy. They look into your eyes, and suddenly, they’re questioning if they should run towards you or run away. (The Moon + 2 of Swords energy is no joke.) There’s this magnetism, but also uncertainty. You give off that, “Come closer, but only if you’re ready to see the real me” vibe. And bestie, not everyone is ready for that level of depth. Now, I HAVE to say this: If you’ve ever been told, “You’re hard to read” or “I can’t tell what you’re thinking,” just know that it’s so real. People might assume you’re guarded, mysterious, or distant, but that’s just because they don’t realize how much is happening beneath the surface. And the funniest part? Even when you do show emotion, people still question if they’re seeing the full picture. 

People don’t just look into your eyes, they get lost in them. this pile is literally the most poetic and softest of the all the three. Some people see sadness, some see secrets, some see silent strength. But everyone? They see something. I hope this reading resonated with you, Thank you for reading till here, i hope you have an amazing day! Sending you all the love and good vibes!

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Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog, it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! If my reading resonated you, you may consider buying my paid reading as it would really help me out financially♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not fixedly predict the future. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

[natalchartnurtures]

PAC: What Do People Find Pretty About you?

I'm backk (oh and happy new year, people)

Pile 1:

The reading starts with the message- "marching to the beat of your drum," so I'm guessing you love to do your own thing? This quality/essence of yours is exactly what people find pretty about you. You EXUDE this airy-fairy kinda ethereal energy, laced with an almost Aquarian and Gemini-like quality. You have your own blueprint, set of beliefs, and ideas that you LIVE by, and your beauty is inspired by your individuality.

For example, say you grew up in a culture where most people are fair-skinned, but you have darker skin. You absolutely love and adore your skin for what it is, and because you embrace it, others love it by extension. Whatever stands out about you in the society you live in right now is what people find pretty about you. Say you have long hair when the norm is short hair—well, that's what people find pretty about you. They find your unique features breathtaking. It’s otherworldly.

You know, you give me Maeve Wiley vibes from Sex Education. She had her own style going on, and didn’t we absolutely love her for it? Her edgy vibe contrasted against the more simplistic vibe of the rest of the town. Yeah, there’s something about that which STANDS OUT and beckons for people’s attention (even if you’re not out here actively seeking attention). And boy, is it refreshing AF. You don’t know just how much you bring to the table by being yourself 😊.

You may like to dress "intelligently," or your natural style simply makes you look really smart, and this adds to that Aqua/Gemini quality that others find so pretty about you. Maybe you’re into graphic tees? Or your clothing simply makes people think, you know? Your style is different, and gosh, it’s so, soooo pretty (I really hope you understand that by the end of this read, haha).

You seem to take on a more carefree and blasé approach to your physical appearance, and it’s MAGNETIZING.

Side note: I don’t think you realize the effect you have on people, lmao. It’s so funny because that’s such an Aqua quality, hahaha.

Moving on—it seems like you’ve never let go of your connection to your inner child, and this keeps you fun, joyous, and energetic. This is something people instantly notice about you, and they LOVE IT SO MUCH. You brighten people’s days with your little giggles, pranks, and jokes (even if they’re dark).

Again, there’s something deeply unconventional about you that’s soooo pretty. Like, it’s almost as if you are your own beauty standard, you know? Haha, you’re a trendsetter, aren’t you? It’s reminding me of Rihanna’s energy—how different she looks from Western beauty standards, but boy, does she make WAVES with her presence alone.

What’s pretty about you transcends the material realm. It’s your faith in the divine shining through your eyes when you walk past a stranger on the street, or the endless energy you contain because you’re so connected to source (or whatever “god” you believe in). This openness to anything or anyone that comes your way is what makes you OH so pretty ✨️.

Thanks for reading, sweet Pile 1! Have a good rest of your day/night 😊

If you'd like to further receive customized messages about what people find pretty about you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

Pile 2:

Your spirit message to open your reading said- “CUTE AF.” Haha, people seem to find you cute AF, Pile 2! That’s what makes you pretty. You may be the type of person who has the perfect ratio of cute and pretty, like Lisa or Rosé from Blackpink. You have a certain charm about you that people can’t seem to shake off, and boy, it sticks for a while. You’re unforgettable.

You’re incredibly physically attractive too (you might be very aware of this 😏), and boy, need I say more?

Side note: People find your chest area, boobies, and décolletage really freaking pretty 😍.

You have a side to you that you NEVER show people—your softer, mushy, gushy, sensitive, unconditional-love side (for obvious reasons, hello?). And people seem to sense that you’re hiding SOMETHING. Usually, they can’t guess what it is, and they find this super mysterious, enchanting, and ALLURING. They want to know this other side of you. They want to bring it out (and by "they," I mean anyone interested in getting to know you deeper). This makes you irresistibly pretty, Pile 2.

I see that you’re an incredibly humble person, and this only adds to the magnitude of PRETTINESS I already told you about! Sheesh. Could you be any more charming and awesome?

Side note: People really appreciate the random acts of kindness you bestow on them when no one’s looking. If you have a habit of smiling at people (no matter who they are), this is perceived as reeeeeeally pretty 👀. (Also, it makes you all the more lovable?!)

You seem interested in bringing as much kindness as you humanly can into an inherently unkind world, and this honestly takes your physical beauty to another level! Your heart is so generous and pure, kind of like Leo or Cancer energy. You don’t stand for injustice, and you MAKE IT KNOWN (quietly or not 💅🏾). It’s almost as if you have the ability to love people’s hearts back to life again if they’ve been through injustice, which is honestly so precious. You’re a national treasure, Pile 2!

What’s beautiful and pretty about you is how you naturally allow people to feel safely vulnerable around you. You seem like someone who can listen to people’s woes and almost make them disappear 😶‍🌫️. Haha, I love that.

People can slow down around you (because of your energy, bruh) and let down their guard, even if it’s only for a moment. It’s a beautiful gift you have. I’m happy you exist. BIG HUGS, Pile 2!

I love you so much, and have a wonderful day/night!

If you'd like to further receive customized messages about what people find pretty about you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

Pile 3:

Message to open your reading- "You GIVE Sabrina Carpenter vibes." "You serve MOTHER vibes." Lol, a lot of people seem to thirst after your maternal vibe, Pile 3. You’re out here taking care of people, huh? Let’s get into it—

What people find pretty about you is your cozy, emotionally healthy, and prosperous energy. It’s almost like people feel “taken under your wing,” as if an angel is taking them in to help heal and rejuvenate them. You have angel vibes, Pile 3, and that’s what’s PRETTY about you.

You might have really pretty (and really watery?) eyes with big natural lashes, and they look very glossy and big—lowkey like anime eyes 👀. Tehe ✨️. Love that!

You seem very protective of the people you love, and they really appreciate that about you. That’s what makes you so pretty. Maybe when you defend someone close to you who’s been wronged—say you’re arguing with the offender—you might come off really attractive to people. The passion with which you protect is SEXY, baby. Keep 👏🏾 it 👏🏾 up 👏🏾.

You’re like this stable figure in your life to a lot of people. So many of them lean on you for support and come to you with their problems, and you happily help them.

Side note: I hear this incredibly helpful and giving nature of yours is going to bring A LOT of abundance into your life, so keep an eye out for it, hehe.

Also, a slightly off-topic message keeps coming in STRONG—there’s a specific person (romantic) who wants to dedicate a song to you. It’s called “Made For Me” by Muni Long. Maybe it’s how they’re feeling about you right now? Take this only if it resonates :)

Moving on with your reading now, you seem to be a guiding light in people’s lives, kind of like a lighthouse for lost boats, so to speak. Your beauty follows closely with this wisdom of yours, and that’s what people find pretty about you. You wear your wisdom like a warrior wears armor, and gosh, that’s very beautiful, almost in an enchanting way.

You have seer energy about you, and maybe it reflects in how you present yourself? Maybe you seem very calm and grounded? Maybe you have great hygiene or look really put together? If so, this is really pretty, Pile 3 :).

It’s like your energy is medicine to people who are naturally anxious. You allow them to seek respite from their own minds, and boy, does that make you so PRETTTTTAYYYYYY, ugh.

Thanks for reading, my sweet Pile 3. Have yourself a wonderful day/night, and keep being the stable, sexy baddie that you are, hehe 😊🫂. Love you! <3

If you'd like to further receive customized messages about what people find pretty about you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

[ilovecatfr]

things to script for you dr

beauty edition

(None of these are my work) these are some of the acc on tt I got them from and I recommend: @ theunknownshifter / @cattleya_ley / @reality_traveler_ / @irenesrealiity /@shiftingwithmily /@kiintsugiis

To others,there something about me unreal and and divinely beautiful,something that's from another world.

I'm bewitchingly and overwhelming beautifu.l

Im insanely seductive and charming to any gender.

My eyes have a jewel like effects that when light hits them, they light up with many different colours, like a gem would.

My beauty is like unspoken beautiful things in life and such brung to bring life in colours.I make everything seems much more colourful around me.

Just by my presence everything seems better and more colourful and brighter.

My movements are effortless, as il I glide through the world with an ethereal lightness. My posture is naturally poised, landing an air of regality to mine presence. The softness of mine skin invites gentle caresses, and mine touch is as gentle as a feather's kiss.

I hold an insane amount of pure femininity-a natural and exquisite state of perfect beauty.I am the best example of one of earths finest creations, the universe took its time perfecting every inch of me, down to the smallest flawless details. a sublime figure, graced with a certain magnificent aura to match.

My aura is a manifestation of my inner beauty, an ethereal glow that surround the l exudes a sense of purity, goodness, and an irresistible magnetism that draws people towards me. My presence is calming, as if I carry a piece of heaven within them. It is a palpable energy that radiates from my being, capturing the hearts and minds of all who encounter me.

Im what most people would see as a beauty fit for royalty, the kind of beauty that would capture the attention of a king or emprior, and send all men and women to their feet

it's not a burden to gift me expensive things it's only a reward for their hard efforts to provide for a beautiful princess

People constantly feel the need to re-visit where they last saw me for a dopamine spike.

My voice sounds like it was straight out of heaven itself, people beg for me to speak just to hear my voice.

My hair is always perfectly in place and sits perfectly, my hair has a beautiful shine to it as if the moon is being reflected on it.

My presence and gaze itself makes others begin to see the world through different lenses, and notice the beauty of being alive; my very being can drive others to tears, my beauty is unable to be comprehended by the human mind, im unreal.

My existence itself baffles anyone who sees me, as if im testament to the idea that life itself was a work of art. I'm a composition of countless perfect melodic notes, each one contributing to the symphony of existence.

My presence is overwhelming and exceedingly strong. it holds so much pure soul and life, all while being centered around someone so mystically beautiful as me is chilling and intimidating.

My beauty transcends the ordinary and is ethereal, evoking a sense of being from another world. It is unlike any other and has a mesmerizing quality that captivates those who lay eyes on me.

My distinctiveness sets me apart from the rest, making me an exceptional individual who cannot be replicated or duplicate.

it's not just my delicately carved facial features that are enchanting, but also my impeccable sense of style and graceful demeanor that radiate an undeniable charm.

My beauty cant be put in any category; it is unable to be defined by preexisting 'types', setting a new standard of unobtainable perfection. some cold and sharp features, some soft and whimsical, I am the perfect balance of beauty. an equal amount of each and every kind of look you could imagine; bringing it all together and forming something brilliant.

My eyes are magical almost brainwashing. People lose their focus on anything but my hypnotizing eyes when having eye contact with me.

I am the kind of beautiful people never recover from. There is something so devastating about the way I exist-like I was sculpted not just to be admired, but to be longed for. My presence doesn't just enter a room-it lingers, curling into the corners of people's minds and refusing to leave. I don't just catch eyes-I hold them hostage. They don't just want me-they ache for me. I am the addiction no one wants to quit.

[3liza]

here's what I've learned to never pay full price for, because people are giving these items away for free or almost free on Craigslist, Nextdoor, Facebook, at Goodwill, and on eBay (which has a local pickup section) in every sufficiently populated location in the USA.

cost of acquiring these items ranges from "carrying it home from the sidewalk" to "getting a friend with a car to help you pick it up" which is the same amount of effort as going to IKEA for worse quality that costs more, with the notable exception of it being a pain in the ass to coordinate with craigslist sellers, and you often have to wait and watch for what you want to actually show up. it took me about a year to find an acceptable gamer chair left out on the sidewalk, for example. but they cost $100+ new, so I chose to wait.

a lot of this stuff is the kind of thing you don't necessarily intend to keep, just to use in transitional housing or until you can afford a better one.

1. printers of any kind. basic office inkjets are free. ink is easily refillable or has generic ink cartridges way cheaper than brand name for any inkjet up to about 2015, not sure how difficult the newer smart printers are to hack but there's no reason to own a newer one because printing technology has not improved since about 2005. you want a color laser for making zines and wheatpastes? it's on Craigslist RN and someone's mom is desperate to get rid of it

2. bedframes

3. desks

4. tables

5. chairs

6. bookshelves, nice oak bookshelves that don't bend like al dente spaghetti when you put books on them, are rotting on sidewalks rn because they didn't fit in someone's house. go get them

7. scanners. I find a working scanner by a dumpster at least once a quarter, and I don't pick them up because I already have one that I picked up from a dumpster years ago

8. hot tubs. everyone thinks they want a hot tub and that the maintenance and upkeep will be worth it, and they are wrong. Craigslist.

9. sofas, with the caveat that if you are in a bedbug region like New York State you need to be very confident in your bedbug screening skills

10. quality leather shoes. these last forever and are expensive new. eBay is best for these

11. plates, glassware, silverware. all of these are able to be sterilized to whatever standard you feel comfortable with but if you eat in restaurants you've already put a fork in your mouth that hundreds of people have drooled on so try not to fool yourself

12. televisions and computer monitors

13. houseplants. similar to the bedbug warning above, you need to screen these for pests like fungus gnats and mealybugs

14. dressers, wardrobes, china hutches, cabinets, chests of drawers, etc

15. mirrors

16. clothes hangers

17. moving boxes

18. mattresses to a certain extent. I don't like secondhand used mattresses but unstained, unused mattresses are surprisingly common, especially since the foam mail order mattress boom started and people keep getting told by the mattress companies to just get rid of/keep any mattresses they want to return for flaws or wrong sizes or whatever. bedbug warning on this obviously

19. sheets and towels. you gotta launder them obviously

20. basic clothing, especially for kids. normie type clothing is so numerous people often just throw them away because they can't get anyone to take them

21. kitchenware like cooking utensils and pots n pans. don't use chipped or scratched Teflon/nonstick if you can help it. everyone needs one basic steel chef knife, which can be sharpened and maintained indefinitely. people throw these away CONSTANTLY

22. household consumables like laundry soap and dish soap. people often accidentally buy the wrong brand, scent, or develop allergies and want to get rid of extra

23. pet supplies like collars, leashes, dog crates, litter boxes, litter itself, dog beds, toys, carriers, etc

24. medical equipment of all kinds. people who take care of all kinds of patients end up with tons of leftover, sealed, miscellaneous stuff when that person recovers or dies, and they often give it away. adult diapers, hospital beds, IV stands, crutches, walkers, wheelchairs, fracture boots and splints, knee braces, canes, catheter packs, ice packs, heat packs, sterile paper sheeting, gauze, slings, over-the-door stretching and rehab pulleys, mattress protectors, etc

25. washers and dryers, both the basic household cube type and the small twin tub or rock tumbler type. people upgrade these when the old ones are still working, just squeaky or a little weird or sometimes just old

26. vacuum cleaners. secondhand ones are sort of icky but you can get rid of the ickiness by wiping them down with a rag and isopropyl alcohol inside and out. use an exacto or utility knife to slice off the hair and string wrapped around the roller. buy a new filter on Amazon. people throw away vacuums that work perfectly all the time because they don't actually know how to clean them out or do maintenance. bedbug and pet hair warning obviously

27. microwaves

28. refrigerators

30. lamps

31. any kind of exercise equipment including stationary bikes, ellipticals and weights/weight benches

32. any kind of piano. there's a grand on my local Craigslist for free rn

33. scrap wood and lumber

34. pallets

35. wood shipping crates

36. newborn, toddler and baby equipment like breast milk pumps and storage, bottles, bottle racks, diapers, etc. anything a little guy will grow out of fast will end up being given away

37. air conditioners, humidifiers and dehumidifiers. these will be most numerous during their respective off seasons

list updated 2/13/24 based on recent Craigslist trawling

38. jars, both canning type jars and clean food jars like from pickled or jelly bought at the store

39. rugs. most of my rugs are sidewalk finds. rugs will almost always be dirty. a decent consumer grade rug cleaner costs under $100, it's cheaper to just buy one if you have the space to store it. flushing the scavenged rug with soap, hot water, vinegar, alcohol, etc will clean almost anything but huge bedbug and allergen warning on this item

[alfascorpiionux]

Astro notes ~1

Hope you’ll enjoy it~💛

Aries people with Moon in Libra/Virgo can be extremely petty and tend to get jealous easily (this applies to friendships as well). They are very loyal though, and some of the most active, hardworking people you’ll come across.

Libra people are some of the friendliest you can find and are known for their good taste and usually good social skills.

Libra with Moon in Pisces has lots of crushes and falls in love easily (but more times than not with the wrong people, much to their dismay). Is sensitive, undecisive. Can be both giving and selfish at the same time. Needs plenty of time by himself/herself to recharge and get detached from others’ feelings, problems.

Moon in Sagittarius: I cannot emphasise this enough: we absolutely loath showing weakness especially when in a group setting and always want to view the world with the “glass half-full” mentality. The unevolved energies of this placement might have commitment issues beacuse we tend to live life based on principles and have quite high standards when it comes to the people we let it. So when our view of the “perfect” you is shattered it can be quite heartbreaking and we may distance ourselves to study you further or try to forget the hurt you caused us. There is a certain grade of naivety, childlike wonder to this placement which can be infectious to other people. You can make somebody’s day brighter with your words and attitude. You also probably have a very strong moral compass, a philosophical outlook on life and are quite friendly.

The lower energies of this placement predispose to anger (which is expressed differently depending on the house your Moon is placed in; typically it’s more concealed, especially in the beginning), short temper, commitment issues, forgetfulness.

Aries Venus in 12th house: oscillating between shyness and boldness, this native is a mix of curious qualities: fiery passion and flirty banter coupled with increased sensitivity to the needs of his/her partner. Creative, generous, dynamic, there is no dull moment with this native around.

He/She will know how to get to the deepest corners of your soul. He/She is looking for something real, something raw and authentic in you. May not like what he/she finds but wants it nonetheless beacuse it’ll be something special the both of you share.

The lower energies of this placement predispose to escapism, low self confidence, compulsions and difficulties in the dating scene (might start dating late, choose wrong partners or not have strong enough boundaries in relationships).

The higher energies manifest in beautiful, almost self-sacrificing ways: increased generosity and sensitivity to other people, especially children and the elderly, maybe animals too. A certain dreaminess in the way you act, express yourself.

When it comes to making love, you are literal FIRE once you open up and feel ready with the right person. You don’t shy away from new positions, are experimental and might even pull out some sexy lingerie from your drawer (lingerie that nobody else may know about or s*x toys - your secret is safe with me!). Fetishes could be possible but you may not even admit them yourself. 12th house placement could suggest secret love affairs or a special taste for something forbidden. Very careful that you don’t put yourself in situations that disregard your value as a person. Self reflection and journaling could be especially helpful with this position!

Leo Rising: are cool, stylish, proud and regal. Whenever they enter a room you’ll feel a warm and encompassing aura. People notice it and will tend to gravitate towards this native, for good or for worse. Whenever Leo is present, especially in the personal planets, you can expect a certain level of drama and stubbornness. If it’s the ascendant that is in the sign on Leo, the native will have a solid self-confidence, will typically carry herself with much pride and may even be quarrelsome at times. “The queen stands no disrespect” could be their motto. At low expression, Leo rising may continually deny it when they have a problem or refuse to talk about it (mostly out of stubbornness and because they prefer to lick their own wounds and hide them from other people).

Taurus Sun with Cancer Moon: some of the warmest, kindest and most loyal friends you could possibly find. They know the value of the given word, will show up to appointments and will take your secrets to the grave. You can vent to this natives about your problems because they will listen and not be judgmental and will even offer a shoulder for you to cry on.

They are shy at first, especially around strangers but will know to speak up when the situation calls for it. It is perhaps not known about them just how tough they can be. Yes, they may cry easily but will always stand up and move forward. When you annoy they will not only acknowledge it but will also confront you about it. They might not tell you right away that they have a lover for example, even when you are close friends. You ask them why, it’s because “you never asked me yourself”. Truthfully it’s because they value personal relationships and privacy so much. They will not gossip just because they can. And some feelings cannot be simply put to words, they should and could only be shared between the two lovers.

The only low manifestation I see is that they can at times have a very one-track mind, especially if they find an activity they really like. You will ask them 5 times in the span of 2 weeks what they are doing, at different times of day, and they will say “I am dancing” or “I am going riding”. Get the picture?

Gemini with Cancer placements: it can go very different ways, but it will usually lead to a person being very social and having lots of friends and/or lovers. It can lead to “drama queen” behaviour but not always. Native is an emotional kind of speaker and can find common ground with almost anybody. He/She is probably very smart and intuitive. The type of person that will get all the good grades without learning much and will impress almost anybody they meet because of their charm and social skills. He/She could, however, be quite flighty and/or chaotic in everyday life.

When I say the expression of the Moon sign very much depends on the Sun sign, I am not kidding. For example, in case of the Taurus native, the Moon in Cancer amplified his/her “motherlike, feminine” qualities. The two signs felt like they complemented each other. The end result felt harmonious and well-rounded. In the case of the Gemini native, however, it leads to a certain amount of friction, particularly because the signs of Cancer and Gemini have very different manners of relating to life. You can look up the aspects if you want to find out more (I am by no means a professional astrologer only an enthusiast 😆).

At low manifestations it could lead to emotional manipulation, drama queen behaviour, a special taste for quarrelling.

BONUS:

Lilith in the first house: this is not talked about nearly enough - self esteem issues! Lilith being in the house of the self brings a particular type of emotional dilemma, the dilemma of “who am I”. I know it sounds strange, but hear me out. I am sure you’ve already read many other posts that highlight the good qualities of Lilith, until you’ve reached my post, so I will only mention a few: charisma, sex appeal and a mysterious, somewhat rebellious air. It is also said that the native, due to his/her particular kind of aura, will invite partners who will try to tame him/her. I don’t know how true that is, and it is not yet the moment we debate this subject. Perhaps in a future post .

We will talk about the young and naive Lilith who is thrust in this wilderness we call life. She doesn’t know who she is, what she wants and can or cannot do so she stagnates. She observes life and at first tries to be a good girl, always pleasant and accommodating. At first she wants to fit in badly, she want the recognition of others and will do almost anything for it. She needs it like the air she breaths. However, something always happens and her plan never works. Or rather it does, but the price to pay will be exorbitantly high: her whole individuality, her authenticity. But does young Lilith know what’s laying dormant inside her? Being so oblivious of her own authenticity and power, she has nearly lost it completely. She has given in up for someone and now she feels bitter and angry. She has come to a realization. She cannot stand X trait in people(example: dishonesty). Okay, so that means I must be a super honest person or at least value it greatly. Moving on - what’s about loyalty? I think I know something but really am just scratching the surface. Such is the journey of Lilith. A journey of continual self-discovery. It starts with a young, very unsure hero who perhaps is also very naive only to later turn into a determined, empowered, self assured person who will always follow her own path, no matter what other say or do. They will be missteps and perhaps even a few fractures on this journey but it is one only you can embark on in pursuit of the Holy Grail, if you may. At the end of the day, you may realise it has always been inside yourself, hidden, awaiting to be rediscovered and embraced.

Thank you for taking the time to read my post and if you feel you resonate with my writing please leave a comment below and let me know. Would love to chat with you guys.💕

[b1asho]

A bunch of random people from what's widely considered to be the most dangerous and uninhabitable area on the planet have been asked to pose for a camera.

Some rambling:

Masks and goggles are a lot more popular in the SEZ due to high likelihood of particulates in the air (while the habitable zones have been deemed, well, habitable, there’s still a chance that rust, dust, and worse can blow in over the walls.) Daily weather updates are advisories are in place to keep people updated in case there’s a bad air quality day. Kixeli are particularly affected by this due to their permeable and sensitive skin, which is why many wear more coverage in the form of “wetsuits” that both protect them and hold moisture when outside of their communities. Wetsuits are found outside the SEZ too, but don't normally do fullbody coverage. Potentially hazardous conditions are also the reason behind many SEZ resident’s fashion sense including a lot of protective suits and gloves, though that’s also because many of the people there work as dredgers (where that’s the uniform standard ). Muttreazik and Conduits are a lot more common, with many intentionally flocking to the SEZ from the neighboring DRSS to get away from isolating and negative views on them.

From the top left:

A bunch of Kixeli show off a fish they caught. Due to the encapsulated and contained nature of current Kixeli communities in the SEZ, they can only really be self-sufficient to a certain point and often need to look to the outside for certain resources. This normally puts them in a difficult position where they need to interact with the outside with money that they dont actually use within the community itself. To solve this, many try to barter as much as possible rather than giving/getting money for their goods.

A group of dredgers, two Flickers (denoted by their yellow jumpsuits with an orange diamond) and one of their agency’s mancers (dressed in red to show their propensity level.) they prolly just got back lol.

A lone Dorest just kinda staring at the camera. Probably running an errand for his unit.

The Cerest-host muttreazik who’s next is a spear fisher. Cerest-host muttreazik are a rarity to see anywhere, both due to the small population of Cerest outside of the Empire and also their high host- rejection rate (aka they’re often kicked to the street or taken out as eggs). There is relative cultural freedom found in the SEZ resulting from the sheer amount of weird stuff going on in there, you just have to accept it at some point. As a result, you can find all sorts of muttreazik there who would not be around elsewhere, as well as a lot more non-congruent muttreazik whove ended up there as a refuge. Side note, ,weapon laws are veryyyy strict in the DRSS for anyone that isn’t law enforcement/military. The strongest thing the average civilian is allowed to have is a taser (and a weak one at that.) this spills over into the SEZ, but due to high crime rates and the general dangers of going out into the Wreck, many people in the SEZ are allowed to carry weapons that someone in the DRSS would not be allowed to have (such as a knife or bow, real gins are still a no no). That speargun is considered a tool, tho.

Another dredger, this one older. She’s a type 3, which her agency shows with her green uniform color and patch. Scarring, loss of limb, etc is a common trait for many Conduits (in general and in the SEZ, due to the nature of their affliction and many of their more dangerous jobs) but her arm has been like that from birth.

On a related note, next is a Rossetian who’s somehow lost most of his tail. It’s also worth noting that everyone has just gotten out of a period of warfare, which is another reason behind injury aftermath being a common sight worldwide.

This next guy is an alius-class with a human host, on their way to class. In the DRSS, the Tank system (where muttreazik are removed from hosts and grown artificially) usually limits traits that would make a muttreazik alius (such as the significant changes to the human body plan shown here) so they’re pretty rare. When they do happen, they have a very hard time living in their host society (which is why they might come to the SEZ instead).

Another muttreazik up next, this one doing a fun trick with a bunch of silverware he has for some reason. Reds like him can’t really do a lot more than that, but the control exhibited here may mean he’s trying to progress to orange.

Lastly, a Prectikar and his son (or just some other middling from his family, as Prectikar households are pretty much exclusively multigenerational). Luckily he’s more or less capable of hauling whatever that is by himself, since getting a personal vehicle is very hard and they don’t make many in kar size anyway. The piercing in his speaking nostril is for aesthetics and to help him speak human languages better (often known as a tongue or tooth piercing depending on the shape.) the speaking nostril only really has the “lips” and a bump at the middle to control airflow for speaking, and their mouth’s layout also isn’t super good for mimicking humans (the tongue/lips are very long and relatively clumsy, and they can only do short bursts of very low, hard to control sound from the air sac. ) this works just fine for their own languages, but greatly affects their communication if they’re trying to switch away from one of the ‘bridge’ dialects everyone uses to talk to each other) With the piercing, the muscular upper wall of the nose channel can be trained to press the piercing against the sides or bottom to produce more humanish noises. To avoid compromising or blocking the airway, these are normally minimal in size etc (which also makes them different than a cybernetic vocal implant, also since there’s no electricity involved lol. )

[cleo-fox]

Captain's Orders

Summary: You and James Conrad do not get along. You find him arrogant and obnoxious; he thinks you are disrespectful and reckless. You would be glad to be rid of him as soon as the Skull Island mission concludes. Unfortunately for you, there's a mandatory seventy-two hour quarantine that you have to contend with…and you are stuck with James Conrad for the duration.

And in addition to being arrogant and obnoxious, Conrad is also extremely attractive…and your close quarters make it a lot harder to hide the fact that you want him.

Pairing: James Conrad x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, blow jobs, cunnilingus, enemies to lovers, Dom/sub undertones (or overtones, honestly), sir kink, teasing, masturbation, quarantine (but just as a plot device, no one actually gets sick),

A/N: I am not particularly religious, but I do feel like my file has been flagged for horny purgatory based on the contents of this fic. This is what I have sacrificed for my craft.

You were so focused on getting to Skull Island that you didn’t really give much thought to what the return might be like, apart from your general desire to make it back alive and unharmed. 

You are fairly certain that no one had mentioned a mandatory seventy-two hour quarantine, though.

“It’s standard procedure,” you’re told by an unsmiling medic in a hazmat suit. “Don’t want you bringing back any novel illnesses.”

Fine. That’s sensible. You can live with that.

Or you could have, had it not been for the fact that there were a limited number of quarantine units available and for whatever godforsaken reason, it had taken them two fucking hours to finish your processing. This would have been fine, except by that point, there’s only one unit left for two people. 

And one of those people is James Conrad.

You and Conrad have been butting heads since before you shipped off to Skull Island. You’ll fully admit that he’s very capable…but he just has this way of saying things that sets your teeth on edge. If you’re being charitable, you’d call this quality self-assuredness; most of the time, you call it arrogance. And apparently, there’s something about you that is equally frustrating to him because the entire mission had been a stream of bickering that was only interrupted by an island that seemed to be doing its level best to kill you.

And if that wasn’t complicated enough, there’s also this: your annoyance with James Conrad is almost constantly warring with the fact that you desperately want to fuck him. Not only is he handsome, but he’s fit and insists on wearing a t-shirt that may as well be made of shrink wrap from the way it clings to his muscles. And for every irritating and self righteous thing that comes out of his mouth, there’s also the fact that he’s got that deep, smoother-than-smooth voice that you suspect would sound particularly delectable uttering absolute filth as he fucks you from behind (or from any position, really. You’re not picky).

Sometimes you think he might return your interest, but it’s hard to tell. He’ll be sneering and dismissive one moment and the next, you’ll catch him staring at your mouth in the middle of an argument. You suspect that you have a million tells like that—it’s hard to tear your eyes away from him, especially in that t-shirt. And those jeans. (God, those jeans. You want to peel those jeans off his body with your teeth).

The idea of no longer having to deal with him or navigate those feelings is relief tinged with a lot of disappointment. He’s a pain in the ass…but he’s a pain in the ass who you desperately want to fuck. The possibility of resolving that tension is too tempting to ignore.

So the news that you’re going to be stuck with him for another seventy-two hours in a living space designed for one person is as thrilling as it is profoundly irritating.

Whether you’ll end this quarantine fucking each other or killing each other remains to be seen.

“They never said anything about this,” you grouse to yourself as you throw your bag onto the floor.

“They absolutely did.” Conrad gives you that patronizing, know-it-all look that has been grating on your last nerve for the entirety of your acquaintance.

“I wasn’t actually talking to you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “So you were talking to yourself, then? Should I flag that as a symptom or were you like this before?”

You sigh and give him your best scowl. “Fuck off, Conrad.”

The smirk doesn’t go away. “I would if I could, darling.”

You roll your eyes, even as that word—darling—draws goosebumps up your spine. You try and fail not to think of how that word might sound falling from his lips as he fucks you into the mattress.

You take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of your nose. “I don’t know how I’m meant to make it through seventy-two hours of this.”

Conrad manages an expression that’s both neutral and smug, which is somehow more infuriating than if he’d just been smug. 

“Would you like the shower first?” he asks with the feigned sort of politeness that you use when you’re trying to change the subject because the other person’s being unreasonable. And it’s the sort of fake politeness that you can’t call him on because you’ll just look crazy, which is even more irritating.

You force a mild, totally unbothered smile. “You can go ahead.”

You did this to prove a point (you’re not sure what point), but you regret it almost as soon as the bathroom door shuts behind him. You’re covered in several days’ worth of dirt, sweat, and probably a little bit of blood and monster goo, which limits you to sitting in the metal folding chair that’s propped in the corner like an afterthought. One of the caps on the legs is missing and it wobbles slightly every time you shift your weight.

The rest of the quarantine unit isn’t much better than that shitty folding chair. It has the sort of blandly institutional aesthetic you’d expect from the military and everything is a rather unpleasant shade of beige or brown—the tile on the floor, the paneled walls, the furniture. There’s a ratty couch that boasts a spring making its way through the middle seat, though an attempt has been made to hide it with a bit of duct tape gone gummy with grime at the edges. They’d left a second stack of blankets and sheets on the couch, but the longer you look at it, the more certain you are that it’s not fit for human use. Between that couch and the jungle floor, you think you’d take the jungle floor.

You turn your gaze to the bed. It’s a double and it looks decently clean and comfortable. It would probably make sense to just share the bed, rather than subjecting either one of you to the couch.

The thought sends goosebumps up your spine. It’s a practical suggestion, certainly. But there are other benefits.

Conrad emerges from the bathroom after twenty minutes, freshly shaved and showered and wearing an undershirt that somehow seems tighter than that stupid t-shirt he’d been wearing on Skull Island.

You hastily avert your eyes and go to retrieve your bag. 

“Shall we flip for the bed?” says Conrad, setting his own bag on the couch.

You sigh heavily as you shoulder your bag. “It pains me to say this, but we should share it.”

Conrad looks mildly surprised, but doesn’t immediately counter with something smug. “Share it?”

“We’ve been sleeping on jungle floors for days and that couch looks like it’s breeding a new species of flea. You stay on your side, I’ll stay on mine, no one has to suffer. Okay?”

He thinks for a moment and then nods. “Okay.”

You hurry into the bathroom before you get anymore distracted by how he looks in that damn undershirt. 

You shut the door behind you and are immediately confronted with a different challenge. The steam from his shower lingers. Everything smells like his soap and shaving cream. It’s annoying. 

And also inconveniently hot.

Your mind wanders to how he looked just moments ago, clean-shaven and hair damp, wearing that stupidly tight undershirt. And from there you can’t help but think of how he looked on the island covered in dirt and sweat, the smug curl of his lips as he said something to put you in your place, the steely flint of his eyes when you talked back, his fucking biceps in those goddamn sleeves. (Is it normal that you want to bite his biceps?)

And now you’re undressing in a room that smells like him and he’s in the other room looking like that…

By the time the water is running and heated up, you are resigned to the fact that this shower is going to end with you silently getting yourself off to the thought of James Conrad.

You’re not so far gone that you trust there’s enough hot water for both tasks, though, and you grudgingly admit that the actual shower part is most important, so you begin with that. You try not to think too much of Conrad—there will be time for that soon—but you become gradually more aroused as your shower progresses. Even the simple pass of your fingers against your skin is heightened, your body gradually growing warm and restless with wanting.

Finally, you finish washing and lean back against the shower wall. The water is starting to cool slightly, but not enough to worry you. You turn the tap further to the left and there’s a wave of warmer water. Perfect.

You slide your fingers between your legs. It’s going to be quick, you can tell that already. Conrad appears in your mind as you roll your fingers over your slick clit. You wonder if he’s as pent up as you are, if he got himself off in the same shower. Or god, what if he somehow worked out what you’re doing right now? What if he came into the bathroom and yanked the shower curtain aside and told you off for touching yourself without him? You could imagine his stern look as he stripped down, maybe he’d say something sexy like, “if you’re going to act like a slut, you should have the decency to invite me to join in—”

The water abruptly goes cold. You gasp and slam the tap off.

Fuck. It fucking figures.

You briefly consider staying in the shower and simply finishing the job, but your skin is quickly chilling as the steam leaves the shower and it’s enough to kind of kill the mood, even though your cunt is still pulsing. So you dry off and pull on your pajamas, still pent up and aching.

Conrad is in bed and under the blankets when you return, his impossibly broad back already facing your side of the bed. You turn down the covers on your side, trying not to let on to the fact that your pussy is throbbing or that the man lying next to you in bed is prompting some of the filthiest thoughts you’ve had in a while.

You situate yourself on your side, facing your back towards him. You’re not touching, but you can still feel the heat radiating off him, which also doesn’t do any favors for the ache between your legs.

“I’m turning off the light.”

“All right.”

You switch off the lamp on the bedside table, plunging the room into darkness.

You settle back down against your pillow. The combination of a comfortable bed after days of sleeping on the ground should be enough to knock you out fairly quickly.

Instead, you find yourself unable to think of anything other than the warm, pulsing ache between your thighs and what it would be like to have Conrad resolve that for you. He’d probably be a good fuck—he’s that particular combination of stern and capable that sets your nerves ablaze. His body is annoyingly perfect and he’d probably feel annoyingly good. Maybe you wouldn’t mind him being chivalrous if chivalrous meant burying his face between your thighs or fucking you so hard you see stars.

You stare at the illuminated hand of the alarm clock, feeling yourself grow wetter and more awake with every passing second. If you could get yourself off, you’d fall right asleep. You should’ve just pushed through the chill of the shower. If you’d done that, you’d be sated and sleeping right now, not staring at the clock and listening to Conrad’s even breathing beside you.

He’d fallen asleep rather quickly, you note sourly. Perhaps he’d been able to take advantage of the full hot water tank and get himself off in the shower. Your mind immediately conjures the scene, Conrad standing in a spray of water, leisurely pumping his cock, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. Biting his fist to keep quiet as he comes—

Fuck. None of this is helping you.

You stare at the clock. It’s been just over an hour.

You shift slightly, your cunt aching. Maybe you could just…

You should dismiss the thought automatically: it would be ridiculous to get yourself off here, even if he is asleep.

But is he really going to know?

That should also be a nonstarter—you’re not some kind of creeping pervert, after all. But you just spent days on a deadly jungle mission that included a significant amount of time being sexually frustrated by a man who looks like he strolled in from a Michelangelo painting. You’re really fucking horny and it would be so easy to take care of the ache that’s settled so heavily in your hips. Conrad wouldn’t know. You would be discreet.

You don’t realize you’ve made your decision until you start sliding your hand into your sleep shorts.

You inhale sharply as your fingers graze your clit. It’s ridiculous that such an infuriating man has made you this wet, this sensitive. It’ll probably be quick—maybe five minutes at most. 

Your lips part as you fall into a familiar rhythm, your mind drifting back to Conrad. You imagine him watching you, telling you what to do, calling you a good girl, ordering you to come. You’re starting to tense, desire coiling tight in your hips. He’d probably make you come more than once—on his fingers, his tongue, his cock. You’re not sure which one you want most, though you suspect he excels at all methods. Your breath quickens. Just another minute and you’ll come. Your pussy is aching so badly and your fingers feel so good and you’re so close to getting what you need. Just a little bit more and you’ll finally get a little relief—

“I know what you’re doing.” Conrad’s voice comes from the other side of the bed.

Shit.

You freeze, your hand stilling between your legs. You’d thought he was asleep and you’d believed it so completely that you hadn’t even considered trying to come up with a graceful exit strategy. You carefully ease your hand out of your shorts.

“What’s that?” you say, trying to make your voice sound sleepy, like he’d just woken you up and not caught you with your hand down your shorts.

“Don’t lie to me.” His tone is sharp and uncompromising, and it plucks at something deep in your belly.

“Conrad, wait—”

You can tell he’s sitting up, the mattress shifting slightly. You sit up as well, your heart pounding in your chest. It’s dark and you can’t quite get a read on him—not that you’d know how to fix it if you could.

But then his fingers close around your wrist and he brings your slick fingers up to his mouth. 

Oh.

His lips close on the tip of your index finger, his tongue tasting the pad of your fingertip as he sucks it deeper into the heat of his mouth. You take in a shaky breath as burning desire rolls through you like molten lava.

“You taste desperate,” he says, releasing your finger. “Do you really need to come that badly? Is that why you’ve been such a brat?”

You didn’t think it was possible to be more turned on, but your cunt is now throbbing with an urgency that you’ve never felt before. It’s like all those days of quiet desperation suddenly caught up with you and now the only thing you can think of is his touch.

“Answer me,” he says, voice growing stern.

You lick your lips. “Yeah…I—I need to come. Badly.”

“I see.” His thumb traces a circle on the palm of your hand and then on the inside of your wrist. “And you’d like me to help you with that, is that it?”

There’s no hesitation. “Yes.”

“Then you should start calling me sir.”

Your capacity for rational thought evaporates instantly. His words and calm control have you weak kneed and aching, beholden to wants that you’ve been denying yourself for days and needs that you’ve ignored for quite a lot longer. Pure desire roars through your body, pooling in your hips, waiting to be properly unleashed.

You lick your lips. “Yes, sir.”

You feel the mattress shift again and the lamp on the bedside table clicks on.

Blinking against the light, you sit up, your eyes locked on him as he walks to your side of the bed.

“You have been insubordinate, impertinent, reckless…utterly infuriating.” His gaze roves over your body and he licks his lips. “If there’s one thing you learn from tonight, it’s going to be how to take a fucking order.”

Reflexively, you open your mouth to snap back at him before you realize what you’re doing and promptly shut it again.

Conrad’s eyes shine like a cat that’s just cornered a mouse. “That mouth is going to get you in trouble if you’re not careful, sweetheart. Are you going to behave or do I need to find something to keep it occupied?”

Truthfully, you wouldn’t mind doing what he’s implying, but the ache between your legs is becoming unbearable enough to make you cooperative. “I’ll be good,” you say, too quickly. “Sir,” you add.

His gaze is unreadable. “Undress.”

You quickly comply, pulling off your t-shirt followed by your sleep shorts and underwear. You resist the urge to squirm under the heavy weight of his gaze as it travels leisurely up the length of your naked body, the pulse between your thighs quickening as desire turns his eyes darker with every moment.

He sits down next to you on the bed. Your palms itch to touch him—to peel the stark white undershirt over his head and rake your hands over his chest, to rub your aching cunt against the steadily growing bulge in his boxers—but the look in his eyes and his stern words from earlier tell you that you need to wait for him to tell you what to do. You press your thighs together, trying to keep your aching need under control.

Almost subconsciously, your gaze drops to his lap and your lips part just slightly. His cock is straining against the fabric of his boxers, desperately hard. He may be acting all tough and stern, but he wants you—maybe even as much as you want him.

You sort of lose yourself in the moment and the sound of his low voice startles you. “You don’t deserve my cock yet.” His tone brooks no arguments, but your cunt aches all the more at the thought of not having him. 

Reluctantly, you tear your eyes away from his cock. “Yet?”

“Well,” he says, trailing a hand from your hip to your ribs, “that depends on how good you are, doesn’t it?”

“I can be good,” you say.

There’s a hint of mockery in his laugh that makes you want to talk back. Or fuck him—you’re not quite sure which. 

“You think you can be good? You’ve already forgotten your manners and I can tell you’re thinking about talking back.”

You can feel desperation start to claw from the ache in your hips. “I’m sorry, sir, I just—I really need to come.”

“Can’t even think straight,” he says, clicking his tongue. His gaze drops to your breasts and meanders down your body. “Show me your cunt.”

You spread your legs and bare yourself to him. His gaze is cool and impassive as he looks you over, lips parting slightly.

“Oh, you fucking need it,” he says quietly. “Look at your desperate little cunt, all wet and spread out for me like a treat.”

You can’t help it: you whine. Every inch of you is aching, yearning for relief.

Conrad looks unmoved. “You were being very wicked, weren’t you? Playing with your pretty pussy right next to me in bed and not letting me see.”

You nod, your heart racing. “I’m sorry, sir.”

He licks his lips. “Sorry’s not good enough, darling. Not with how fucking hard you’ve made me every goddamn day of this mission.” He finally raises his gaze to meet yours. “Touch yourself for me. Show me how you play with your needy cunt.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Yes, sir.”

You slide your fingers between your legs and hold his gaze until your eyes flutter shut at the first pass of your fingers against your throbbing clit. You didn’t think it was possible but you’re even wetter now than you were before. A moan falls from your lips, unguarded and wanton.

“That feel good?” His voice is a low rasp, eyes hooded.

“Yes, sir,” you gasp. 

“Look at how wet you are. It’s fucking obscene.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I need to come so bad.”

He chuckles, his eyes darkening as he watches you. “I know you do. But only good girls get to come and you’ve been such a fucking brat.”

You moan again, resisting the urge to whine as you change the rhythm of your fingers to press more indirectly on your clit. His words are already amplifying the rolling tension in your hips and if you’re not careful, it’ll send you over the edge too soon.

“I think you want to be a good girl, though,” he says. “You’re putting on such a nice little show for me. Do you like having me watch you?”

“Yes, sir.” Your hips roll with your hand. Your orgasm is starting to take shape, pleasure flickering in your core like a live wire. 

“You love this.” His eyes are hooded as his gaze roves openly over your body. “Being so filthy and showing me what you like. Getting that sweet cunt ready to be filled to the brim with my hard cock.”

Another whine falls from your lips.

“And you’re making such pretty little noises, too.” His smile turns sly. “That’s what gave you away, you know. You thought you were being so quiet and clever, but I could hear all those little gasps. And every one made me so. fucking. hard.”

You arch against the mattress, fingers pressing harder, your hips rolling. 

“I almost let you finish.” He smirks, licking his lips. “But I got greedy—I wanted to see you come, I wanted to hear you make more of those sweet noises while I made you beg for me.”

You are deliciously, unbearably close.

He is rapt by the sight of you, eyes hooded. “Are you about to come, darling?”

You nod, not quite able to speak.

His eyes darken and for a moment, you think he might let you come.

In hindsight, that was extremely wistful thinking.

“Stop.”

You freeze automatically, though your body is begging you to continue. You bring your gaze to Conrad’s and he stares at you intently, like he’s waiting for you to protest. “Hands above your head,” he says after a moment.

You obey automatically, biting the inside of your lip to stop yourself from saying anything as your cunt pulses with a throbbing ache. God, you had been so close. Conrad licks his lips, a hungry smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Is that all it takes to bring you to heel?” he says, eyes raking over your body. “Rubbing your needy little clit?”

You nod, your breath coming in sharp gasps. “Yes, sir.”

“Oh, that would have saved me a lot of trouble had I known that.” He runs one warm palm along the inside of your thigh. “First time you gave me that bratty attitude, I would’ve bent you over and made you come until you were a whimpering mess.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath, and he gives you a slow, hungry smile.

“You put on a good show of being disobedient, but you fucking love being told what to do. Your pussy’s been dripping from the moment I told you to show me your cunt.”

His hand drifts further up your body, his thumb and index finger gently tracing the bend where your leg meets your hip. You try not to squirm as your cunt throbs harder at the nearness of his hand, but your breath stutters in your throat. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” he asks, fingers stroking your skin.

You swallow hard, desire burning in your hips. “Please, sir.”

A slight smirk plays at his lips. “You really are a filthy girl, aren’t you? I haven’t even kissed you yet and you’re begging me to play with your pussy.”

His large hand moves to cup your cunt, his fingertips teasing the very edges of your slit, but going no further. His eyes are locked with yours and the anticipation is making you tremble.

“Tell me what you need.” Conrad’s voice is practically a purr, soft and intimate. Filthy. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“I—”

The tip of his middle finger presses gently between your folds, teasing your entrance. Your breath catches.

“Fuck, I—I need to come.”

He tuts, his hand unmoving. “And what am I supposed to do about that?”

“I want…I need you to touch me.” The words come out desperate and whiny, prompting another smirk from him. “Please, sir.”

He hums and presses the heel of his palm against your pubic mound so that it pulls at the hood of your clit—enough to tease, but not enough to provide relief. 

“Like this?” he asks innocently. The slight wry tilt of his lips tells you he knows the answer.

“I need more, sir.” You roll your hips up, trying to get more friction.

“More?” He swirls the tip of his finger around your entrance, still so far away from your aching clit. “How could you possibly need more?”

You bite back a whine of frustration. “My clit.”

“What about your clit?”

“I need you to touch my clit, sir.”

He licks his lips and slowly begins dragging his fingers along the length of your cunt. “You want me to touch your clit,” he says, like he’s making casual conversation. His fingertip trails up to your clit and pauses. “Like this?”

You bite back a frustrated whimper. “You need to rub it.”

He traces a slow circle on your clit and you let out a low moan. You know he’s not going to let you come any time soon, but it feels so amazing to finally be touched that you almost don’t care.

“Oh, I see,” he murmurs, his fingers easing into a slow, twisting rhythm,, “you want me to keep rubbing your clit until you come on my fingers.”

“Yes, sir,” you gasp.

“Mmm, I’m afraid it’s not going to be quite that easy, darling.”

“But I need it, sir.”

“I know you do, but you need to convince me that you can be a good girl.” He casts a greedy look down the length of your body. “Your pussy’s so fucking ready and we’ve barely started—you must have been having some very wicked thoughts.”

You nod. There’s no point in lying.

“What were you thinking of, you wicked, filthy girl? What got you so worked up and wet?”

“You.” This truth falls easily—almost too easily—from your lips.

“Yeah?” He’s already managed to find the perfect movement and pressure for your clit. “Be more specific.”

You take in a shaky breath. “I was—fuck—I was thinking about you touching me like this.”

“Surely that’s not all,” he says. “You’re much too wet for that to be all.”

“I…I tried touching myself in the shower. Before the hot water ran out.”

He laughs, low and hungry. “Oh, you’re even more wicked than I thought.” He rubs your clit firmly. “What were you thinking about in the shower?”

“I…fuck, just like that—I was thinking about what would happen if you walked in and caught me. What you’d do to me. What it’d feel like to take your orders.”

“What else?”

“I thought about you touching yourself. About how maybe you’d jerked off in the shower, too.” You moan and he slows his fingers slightly. “I thought about you ordering me to come, what it’d feel like to come all over your cock.”

“Awfully bold of you.” His eyes are hooded. “Do you think you’ve been good enough for me to let you come on my cock?”

You moan. “No, sir, I’ve been so bad.”

“That’s right.” His voice comes out like a purr, stern but pleased. “You’ve been a very bad, wicked girl. Touching yourself, playing with this wet pussy without sharing. You’re going to need to be very, very good before I even think about filling you up with my come.”

“Yes, sir.” 

He smirks again. “I have to say, I’m rather fond of this more agreeable side of you.” His gaze drags over your body again. “Tell me you like being my good girl.”

“I—”

His eyes are dancing like he knows that you’d rather not admit this.

You lick your lips. “I…I like being your good girl, sir.” You lean hard into the word sir and you’d wager that he notices based on the way his gaze intensifies.

“Does it make you wet when I tell you what to do?” 

You nod, trying to keep the remainder of your composure from fraying.

Conrad clicks his tongue. “I didn’t hear that.”

“Fuck.” You gasp, whimpering. He’s been slowly increasing his pace this whole time and you are getting dangerously close to coming. 

“Say it for me, sweetheart.” The low lilt of his voice runs in sharp contrast to the way he’s touching you.

“It…it makes me so wet���” You gasp, your words cutting off as your orgasm begins to crest. “Oh god.”

“Oh, you’re about to come, aren’t you?” He eases his hand away from you. “What a shame you didn’t do as I asked, you might have earned your release.”

It’s egregiously unfair, but before you can so much utter a whimper of protest, he’s bringing his mouth down on yours, tongue pushing easily past your lips. You moan into his mouth and his tongue delves deeper in response.

The simple pleasure of kissing him is far more intense than you expect and you can’t help shivering a little.

“Come here.” He gently maneuvers you so that you straddle his lap, the thick column of his cock pressing against your sopping cunt. A whimper catches in your throat and there’s a flicker of smugness in his eyes. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” he says, his voice low and a little raspy.

“Yeah.” The word comes out breathy and shaky. You roll your hips against him, but his hands quickly still you.

“Not yet. I want you to sit and just feel how much I want you.” He strokes your thighs and presses his mouth against your neck. “Feel how hard I am against your wet cunt.” His hands skim up your waist to cup your breasts. “Think about how good it’ll feel when I finally fuck you like you deserve to be fucked.”

You tilt your head back and sigh as he expertly rolls your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, gently tugging and pinching their sensitive skin until they pebble, hard and aching in his hands. His cock throbs against you.

“Did you feel my cock get harder when I started playing with your tits?” he murmurs against your neck as he starts to kiss a soft trail down your chest.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“It is requiring every ounce of my self-control to do this properly. If my cock was in charge of things, I would’ve fucked you the moment you walked out of the bathroom wearing those little shorts and no bra.”

He ends that confession by taking your right breast into his mouth, sucking hard at your nipple and teasing it with his teeth. You moan, arching your back and curling your hands into his hair, while his hard cock presses deliciously against your sopping cunt. You’re tempted by the knowledge that the friction of the thin fabric of his boxers paired with his hard cock underneath would be more than enough to get you off if he let you rut yourself against him. But there are too many risks with disobeying him right now and you’re far too horny to be able to tolerate the inevitable delay or denial that would likely follow that insubordination. So, instead, you try desperately not to squirm as he toys with your breasts, slowly driving your desire higher and higher.

He chuckles quietly against your breasts, almost as though he’s privy to this line of thought. “Oh sweetheart, you are making such a terrible mess. Look at this.”

He lifts his head from your breasts and shifts you in his lap so you can see the unmistakable wet spot on the front of his boxers, right where your pussy was pressed against his cock.

“That’s so fucking sexy,” he says, running a fingertip along the damp fabric. “You couldn’t help your pussy getting all wet while I played with your tits, could you?”

“No, sir. It felt so good.”

“I know it did. And it made me so hard to feel you soaking my cock like that.” He leans in and kisses you slowly, one hand still squeezing and toying with your breast. He draws back slightly and lets his voice drop down the octave. “I think it’s time for me to get undressed, though, don’t you think?”

“Yes, sir,” you say with a promptness that betrays your desperation.

He pulls his undershirt up and over his head and you have to restrain yourself from immediately plastering yourself against his chest. All of his stupidly tight shirts had not been lying: his chest is as beautifully sculpted as you suspected it would be. Your gaze is only torn away when he eases you off his lap to shuck off his boxers, revealing what might be the most beautiful cock you’ve ever seen. It is long and thick with a slight curve that you know is going to blow your mind later.

“Fuck.” The word falls from your lips before you can stop yourself as you stare shamelessly and openly.

“You like my cock?” His smirk is lazy, eyes hooded.

“You’re so big.” You say it almost automatically, without thinking about how it might inflate his already massive ego. 

He smirks again, licking his lips. “You gonna be able to take me?”

You nod earnestly. “Yes.”

He raises his eyebrows expectantly. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir,” you amend.

“Good girl.” He pats his thighs. “Sit just like you were before.”

You climb back into his lap, carefully straddling him so that your cunt sits against the length of his cock. You can’t help but whimper as the silky hardness of his cock presses against your aching cunt.

“Mmm, there we go.” His voice is low and soothing as your whole body shudders. “That feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

He looks at you with hooded eyes. “I love feeling your pussy on my cock. So warm and wet—and I bet you’re tight, too. Fucking perfect.”

He puts his hands on your hips and guides you against him. You suck in a sharp breath as your clit rubs against his shaft.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, rocking your hips against his. “You’re so wet you just slide right along my cock.”

“Fuck.”

“You’re making such a mess on my cock and I’m not even inside you.” He guides your hips just a little faster. “What’re you going to do when I fuck you properly, hm? Are you even going to be able to stand it?”

Pressure is quickly starting to build in your hips again—a lot more quickly than you expected. You grind your hips firmly against his cock. “Can I come, please? I’ve been so good and I need it so bad, sir.”

He shakes his head. “You’ll come when I say so.”

You give him your most innocent and demure look. “You could say so now, couldn’t you, sir?”

His gaze becomes stern. “Are you getting pert with me?”

You shake your head. “No, sir. I just want you to fuck me. I’m dripping. I need to come.”

He chuckles. “It makes me so hard to hear you talk like this. I love hearing how desperate and needy you are.” He kisses you fiercely, nipping hard at your bottom lip, his tongue stroking into your mouth as he rocks your hips in the same brisk rhythm.

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Sir, please, I wanna come so bad.”

“Mmm, not yet, love.”

“What do I need to do, sir?”

This is the right question to ask, based on the way his eyes light up and then darken with hunger. “You made a terrible mess on my cock, didn’t you?”

You think you know where this is going and it thrills you. “Yes, sir.”

“You were rubbing your soaking cunt all over me like a needy little slut.” His eyes darken even more. “Good girls clean up their messes, don’t they, sweetheart?”

You nod. “Yes, sir.”

He licks his lips. “I want you to get on your knees and clean up the mess you made on my cock, and then maybe I’ll think about letting you come.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath as more heat floods your cunt. “Yes, sir.”

You don’t drop your gaze as you slip off his lap and onto the floor, kneeling at his feet as he spreads his legs wide. You’re tempted to tease him—to press light, fleeting kisses against the tip of his cock or lightly flick your tongue against it before retreating, playing dumb when he calls you on it. But the reality is that your patience is running too thin and your need is too great to invite any further delay, even though you’d likely enjoy the stern rebuke that would follow.

So instead, you wrap your hand around his thick shaft and take him into your mouth.

He exhales deeply through his nose, his head tipping back and eyes fluttering shut as his sigh turns into a groan, as though he’s just sunk into a hot bath after a long day. He leans back on one hand and the other goes to the back of your head.

“You were thinking about being a brat just a moment ago, weren’t you?” he says. “Your eyes always give you away.”

You’re not quite sure if he’s displeased or not. You look up at him, raising your eyebrows in a silent question as you work his cock.

“Your mouth is good enough that I’m going to be a little more forgiving than I would be otherwise.” He gives you a lazy smirk, eyes slightly hazy with pleasure. “But I think you’re finally learning how to be a good girl and take my orders—and you fucking love it.”

You cast your eyes back down—you still don’t like admitting to that—and he chuckles almost fondly. You take him a little deeper in your mouth, lightly squeezing his shaft, letting a little moan escape your throat.

“Can you taste yourself on me?” His voice is a little raspy. You make a noise that approximates a yes.  “Yeah? You like that?”

You nod—it’s not a lie either. Something about the way that the salty sweet tang of your arousal pairs with the clean, musky taste of his cock conjures a particular flood of endorphins and serotonin, bringing still more slickness to your cunt.

“Fuck. I’m so tempted to come in your mouth.” He’s still in control, but his eyes are a little unfocused and there’s a slight hitch in his breath. “I’m going to save it for your cunt, but fuck, your mouth feels good.”

You drag your tongue along the slight indentation just below the tip of his cock and he inhales sharply, brows drawing together. You gently massage your tongue against that spot, occasionally alternating with sucking hard on the tip.

“Oh, you are such a fucking tease,” he bites out between groans, his hand firm on the back of your head. But he doesn’t push you off until a minute later, when his control of his composure is truly starting to fray. 

“Up.” He tugs you to your feet and pulls you back into his lap, making sure your legs are spread wide across his thighs. He slides his fingers between your folds, his eyes gleaming with raw greed. “You liked sucking me off. You’re even wetter than before—your pussy’s practically drooling.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “I like making you feel good, sir.”

“Yeah?” His thumb glides up to lightly graze your clit while his index finger traces your entrance. “Should I make you feel good, too?”

You nod. “Please, sir.”

He slowly sinks his index finger inside you and you let out a low, wanton moan.

“Oh, you’re tight, love.” His voice is so soft, a sharp contrast to the noise you just made. His finger curls, rubbing against that soft aching spot inside you. “You really think your snug little pussy can take my big cock?”

You shiver, the muscles of your cunt tightening and flexing around his finger. “Please, sir. I fucking need it so bad. I need you to fuck me with your big, thick cock.”

He kisses you, his mouth soft and slow, almost sweet. He draws back, his forehead resting against yours. “Are you ready to come?” he murmurs, the softness of his voice belied by the fire in his eyes.

“Oh god, yes.” Your answer comes before you can even think about it. “Please, sir, I’m so fucking ready.”

“Yeah? You want me to take care of your needy cunt?”

You nod. “Yes, sir. Please. I’ve been so good for you.”

He hums. “You have been a very good girl for me. Taking my orders, sucking my cock.” His gaze is thoughtful, assessing—and still darkly hungry. “This is what I want: I want to make you come and I want you to scream for me. I want everyone to know who’s making you feel so good. I want them all to know who this sweet pussy belongs to, whose cock is ruining you for everyone else.”

You are desperate enough to agree to a lot, but this is exactly what you hoped he’d say. “Yes, sir.”

His eyes darken. “You keep calling me sir for now, but I want you to use my name when you come.”

You nod. “Yes, sir.”

He presses a soft kiss against your lips. “Lie back on the bed.”

You climb on the bed and lie back as he settles himself between your legs, bringing your thighs over his shoulders. His thumbs spread you open, eyes gleaming with raw greed. You take a deep shuddering breath, biting back yet another embarrassing whine.

He leans in, inhaling deeply. “I have been absolutely dying for a taste of this pussy.”

Your legs are shaking. His mouth is so close that you can feel the heat of his breath.

“The moment we met, I knew I wouldn’t be satisfied until I made you come in my mouth.”

The tip of his tongue ghosts against your clit. It’s brief—barely a tap, not anywhere enough to provide anything resembling relief. Before you can do anything, he retreats.

He looks up at you, eyes dark and hungry. “Just as sweet as I thought. Sweeter, even.”

“Please,” you breathe.

The tip of his tongue grazes your clit again and withdraws.

You whimper. “James.”

This seems to move the needle. He sucks in a sharp breath and then the heat of his mouth is enveloping your aching clit.

His strategy before was to tease, to withhold; now, though, it’s as though he’s trying to make up for lost time. His tongue doesn’t leave your clit, tracing brisk circles that leave you gasping. He slides a finger inside you, curling and stroking until your hips lift to meet him, until you’re wet enough to take a second one. His fingers are as clever as his tongue, quickly finding the right pace and curling and stroking in just the right way. If he told you he’d spent the last several years studying the exact way to get you off, you would believe him because that’s how attuned he is to your needs. No movement is wasted, every choice is deliberate, considered. You thought that being ruined for others was something of an exaggeration, but you can feel it starting to become your reality as he unwinds all the tension and teasing to what is sure to be a truly spectacular end.

“James.” His name falls from your lips without thought. He looks up at you, eyes blazing with want. You gasp, the tension in your hips tightening to that final point, your cunt desperately squeezing his fingers as your clit thrums in his mouth. “James, I’m gonna—”

The rest of your sentence is lost to the onslaught of your orgasm. The noise you make is so rough and primal that you would be embarrassed had you not completely abandoned your capacity to feel shame when you started calling him sir and begging for his cock. His tongue on your clit has set off a fountain of fizzing sparks that are only egged on by the way your cunt clenches around his thrusting fingers. Conrad groans into your cunt like this is just as enjoyable for him as it is for you, his pace and attention never faltering for a moment, as though his primary purpose is to devour and worship. Your back arches and you moan, your hands gripping the bedsheets and then his hair as you lose yourself to days of pent up energy.

He doesn’t stop, though, his mouth still massaging your clit and his fingers curling and stroking inside you. A third finger squeezes inside you and you moan at the stretch, feeling like it’s too much and not enough all at the same time. But soon enough, the waves of feeling that you thought had dispersed are gathering again, thrall to the tidal push and pull of his tongue and fingers. You cry out, back arching as you come again, harder than before, body quaking, cunt dripping, hands gripping his hair like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality.

He lets you come down fully this time, crawling up your body to kiss you once you catch your breath. “You taste so fucking sweet when you come.” His voice is a growl against your lips.

You wrap your legs around his waist, desperately grinding yourself against him. “Need you. Please.”

That cocky smirk is back. “You just came twice and you still want my cock?”

There’s no point in even trying to pretend otherwise. “I need your cock. I need you to fuck me, I want you to claim me.”

“Yeah?” He shifts his weight slightly, reaching between you and rubbing the head of his cock in a slow circle on your clit. “You think you’re ready for my cock?”

“I need it.”

With agonizing slowness, he drags his cock down to your entrance. He presses ever so gently against you, just enough to make you feel how thick he is. “That enough for you, sweetheart?”

You shake your head vehemently. “I want you to fill me up and fuck me.”

“Fill you up and fuck you, hm?” He eases the tip of his cock inside you. “Like that?”

You shiver. “More.”

He inches forward. “Is this enough?” His smile is wicked.

“James, please.”

He chuckles, but he concedes at last. It’s a long, toe curling thrust before he bottoms out inside you, a tight fit that knocks the breath from your lungs in the most delicious way while the muscles of your cunt tighten and tremble around him.

Conrad groans deep and low, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fucking hell, you are tight, love.”

You are close to completely blissed out, but not so much that you miss this opportunity: “I’ll be even tighter if you make me come again.”

He smirks and rolls his hips once, nearly ungluing you as his cock seems to stroke every aching place inside of you. “If I make you come again? Sweetheart, we haven’t even started and you’re a fucking mess—I’m more concerned that you’re not going to be able to stop coming.”

You can’t resist a weak smirk, even as you’re slowly starting to unravel like he claims. “Right. So you should—oh, fuck yes—you should have no trouble meeting that challenge.”

He frowns, his expression going stern again in a way that makes you shiver. “You’re getting awfully mouthy. Am I going to have to fuck that attitude out of you?”

Despite your best efforts, desire floods your cunt and you clench around his cock. A sly, knowing smile pulls at his lips.

“You filthy girl, that’s exactly what you want, isn’t it?” He gives one gentle thrust that makes your toes curl.

You lick your lips. “What if I do?”

He smirks. “Well, that would be awfully convenient because I desperately need a mouthy slut to come on my cock until she learns her fucking lesson.” His hips snap hard against you and you moan. “You think you can do that?”

You’re utterly wrecked for him, but you can’t resist one last bit of snark: “Stop talking about it and find out.”

His smile is sharp and a little dangerous, but you love it. “You are such a fucking brat.”

You bite your lower lip and clench your muscles on his cock. “Fuck it out of me, then.”

“Oh, I’m going to.” He tries a few shallow thrusts, searching until his cock finally finds that spot inside you that makes you keen and draws a hungry smile on his lips. “That’s where you need me, hm? Right here?” 

“Yeah,” you whimper, running your nails up along his back. 

He works a hand between your legs, his thumb rolling over the hood of your clit, rubbing in time with each thrust of his hips.

“Oh god, James.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” His eyes are dark as he looks down at you, devouring you with his gaze. “I wish you could see how fucking good you look taking my cock like this.”

“You feel so good,” you moan. “I fucking love your cock.”

A low, pleased sound rumbles in his chest. “What do you love about my cock?”

“It’s so big. And thick.” You gasp, clenching as he thrusts into you. “And you know how to fuck me just right.”

“Mmm. This is what you needed, isn’t it? Someone who knows exactly how to take care of your needy little cunt and turn you into a good girl.”

You nod, your lips parting as he keeps hitting that spot inside you.

“You love this, don’t you? You love being my obedient little slut and letting me claim your dripping pussy with my big hard cock.”

You shudder. “Oh fuck.”

His eyes turn steely. “I asked you a question.”

Still more slickness rushes to your cunt. “Yes, I fucking love this, I love being your slut, I love it so much, god, I wanna come so bad.”

You’re close to coming, your cunt already starting to clench on his cock. Conrad’s fingers leave your clit and before you can complain, he’s guiding your hand to replace his. Your fingers automatically fall into a brisk rhythm, as he braces both arms on either side of you, trading his leisurely pace for steadier, firmer thrusts.

“Yeah, that’s what you needed,” he rasps as you moan. “Just a little more, just a little harder.”

“James.” Words are slightly beyond you now, but his name burns bright in your mind and on your lips.

“You gonna come on my cock, gorgeous?”

You nod and work your clit a little faster. You’re so close and he feels so good.

“Do you want to be a good girl for me?”

You nod, a simple yes far beyond you right now.

“Then let me feel you come hard.”

It’s the final push that you need and you cry out as your fingers and his cock tip you headfirst into a toe curling orgasm.

“Good girl,” he purrs as you shake in his arms, your fingernails digging into his shoulders. “Christ, you feel too fucking good when you come. Your tight little pussy gets even tighter.”

“Keep going,” you gasp. “Keep going, please.”

“Oh, I’m not going to stop until I get my fill,” he murmurs. “Though you’re so fucking tight, I don’t even know if there will be room for my come.”

He has one of the filthiest mouths you’ve ever heard and it’s doing things to your body that you’ve never experienced before.

“You love it when I talk to you like this, don’t you?” he drawls with a bit of a smirk. “Every time I say something filthy to you, I feel you clench on my cock.” His eyes get darker and you know he’s about to up the ante. “But I noticed that I tend to get the strongest reactions when I call you my good girl…”

You would like to be able to deny this, but it’s unmistakable: your cunt clamps down hard on his cock.

He grins. “Or when I call you my slut.”

Your cunt clenches again and he smirks.

“So which is it, do you think?” His hips thrust just a little harder. “Do you want to be my good girl or my slut?”

“Both,” you breathe. Your brow furrows and your lips part—he’s hitting that tender spot inside you and you feel yourself starting to tense in a very telling way. “Oh god, James.”

“Oh yes, you’re about to come again, you filthy girl.” He says this confidently and increases his pace just slightly. “You really are a slut, aren’t you? You just can’t get enough of my cock.”

You have rapidly ascended to the point where you can only manage an affirmative whimper and not actual words.

Conrad smiles. “Now be a good girl and make a mess on my cock like a perfect little slut.”

You arch, fingernails digging into his back and a sharp cry falling from your lips as you come for him, your whole body shaking with effort.

“Fucking hell.” He’s slowed his pace slightly, waiting for you to catch your breath before rolling the two of you over so he lies on his back. “Go on,” he says, his gaze dragging appreciatively over your body, “ride my cock and give me a little show.”

“Yes, sir.” You roll your hips, searching out that angle he’d been teasing you with earlier. You begin to ride him as you find it, letting out a low moan as you tilt your head back. You’re in that heady space where it’s easy to keep coming with the right stimulation and Conrad’s cock and filthy mouth are insanely well suited to that purpose.

“Good girl.” His voice is a low rasp. “You gonna come on my cock again?”

You nod and guide his hand to your clit. “Help me out.”

“You’re getting bold.” He smirks, but his fingers start working your clit. You roll your hips and arch your back, running your hands down your thighs all the way up to cup your breasts.

Conrad is rapt as he watches you ride him, his fingers still working your clit. “I wish you could see how fucking beautiful you are right now. Absolutely stunning.”

You whimper, rocking your hips just a little faster. You squeeze your nipples, plucking at the sensitive skin.

“Oh, that’s it, take what you need. Your needy cunt needs relief, doesn’t it? You’ve been such a good girl tonight and good girls get to come on my cock as much as they can.”

You shudder, your cunt clenching hard on his cock.

“I think my cock was made for your pussy. You feel so fucking good.” He groans, his hips rocking up into you. “I’m not gonna be able to hold off when you come this time. The minute I feel you start to come, I’m gonna come inside you.”

“Yes.” You’re shaking now, brow furrowing as you feel your orgasm rise inside you. “Oh, god, yes.”

“Oh, you’re fucking close.” His fingers press more firmly on your clit. “Come for me, gorgeous, come on my cock so I can fill you up.”

With his words, your orgasm blossoms in your belly, your cunt clenching hard on his cock. Conrad groans, his eyes fluttering shut as you ride him.

“Oh fuck, that’s good.” His hips drive up into you a little harder as he starts chasing his own high.

You lean down, pressing your chest against his as you keep riding the pulsing waves of pleasure. He grabs your ass with both hands and presses his feet flat against the mattress, giving him enough leverage to thrust up into you at a wicked fast pace. You moan as his cock hits that sensitive spot inside you once again.

His jaw is tight as he fucks you hard, but his lips start to part the closer he gets.

“Come for me,” you murmur. “I’ve wanted this for days. Let me see you come.” You lower your voice further. “I want you to claim me, James. Fill me up and make me yours.”

“Fuck. Yes—fuck, fuck, fu—” His words give way to a gasp and then a low groan that sounds like pure bliss as he spills inside you.

His hips roll against you for a while as he rides out his orgasm, his whole body shuddering with pleasure. “That’s so fucking good,” he murmurs, his words slurring just slightly as his hips begin to slow. “Fuck, I needed that.”

You intend to sit up, to give him a little space, but instead, he pulls you into a deep and slow kiss, one that surprises you with its tenderness. His cock throbs inside you still, but you don’t mind the closeness. He strokes his hand up your spine and back down and you’re tempted to purr like a cat.

His lips trail from your mouth to your jaw to your ear and then your neck. 

It’s like this for a while—soft searching kisses, his large hands caressing your bare skin, your hands tracing the sharp lines of his cheekbones and jaw. He’s the first to get up, stumbling to the bathroom for a damp washcloth, cleaning the two of you up with a tenderness you don’t quite expect.

He returns to bed a few minutes later and you both lie there, face-to-face. It’s quiet for a few moments as you both consider the weight of what you’ve just done and what it means going forward.

Anxiety settles in the pit of your stomach as you stare at his face. You know what you want; you just don’t know whether it’s in reach.

Conrad is the first to speak.

“In hindsight,” he says, propping his head up with his hand, “we probably should have just done that to begin with.”

A relieved, breathy laugh tumbles from your lips. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

His eyebrows lift and his face falls into an expression of playful surprise. “Did you just voluntarily admit that I’m right?”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “Oh spare me.”

“No, I mean, I thought my cock was good, but not on the order of performing miracles—”

You swat at him. “You’re making me sound far more unreasonable than I am.”

He grins and loops an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Mmm, I suppose I might have exaggerated slightly.”

“A little more than slightly.”

He shrugs and gives you another easy smile. “If you want to get technical.”

You look up at him, your heart beating fast. His eyes look particularly blue in this light—almost aquamarine. He examines your face carefully, one hand tracing the line of your jaw.

“So is this a truce or do you still hate me?” You don’t plan to ask this question until you find yourself saying it out loud.

Conrad frowns, a flicker of confusion lighting up his eyes. “I never hated you.”

You raise your eyebrows at him.

“I found you extremely frustrating,” he says, still tracing his finger along your cheek. “A bit stubborn and hard-headed. Wildly attractive to an inconvenient and distracting degree. But I never hated you.”

Your stomach flips. “I suppose I should also confess that I didn’t hate you either.”

“Not even a little?” His expression is gently teasing and it warms you in a way that you don’t expect.

“I mean, you could be a little bit of a jerk,” you say. “And you pissed me off a lot. But mostly, I was just thinking about how much I wanted to fuck you.”

“Well,” he says, his fingertips still stroking your cheek, “I’m glad we got that sorted.”

“Me too.”

There’s a comfortable, easy silence. You feel sated and pleasantly sleepy.

“So,” says Conrad, “do you think I might take you out to dinner once this is all over?”

You offer him a slow smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Good.” He traces his finger along your neck and down to your shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “I suppose until then we’re just going to have to use this time to work out the remainder of our sexual frustration.”

You smile, even as your stomach flips. “I mean, there’s quite a lot to work out.”

“It may take months,” he says solemnly and you laugh.

There’s another comfortable beat of quiet.

He clears his throat. “I’m, ah, not always quite so stern during sex.” There’s a faint flush to his cheeks and you can’t help but find it endearing. 

“I mean…I really liked it,” you say, your cheeks burning just a little. “I’m fine mixing it up a bit from time to time, but I also don’t have any issue with how you were tonight.” You give him a wry smirk. “I might not always be quite as cooperative, though.”

His gaze darkens just slightly. “Then I’ll just have to come up with some appropriate punishments, won’t I?”

You lick your lips. “Yes, sir.”

He smiles and pulls you flush against him. Somehow, you don’t think you’ll be getting much sleep tonight.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for belconna behind the cut; “Damian gets a Pocket”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

The rest of the school day passes uneventfully. Damian takes a math test and completes a science lab and turns in an English paper and draws several studies in art class and still does not encounter Beloved’s point of origin, and remains unsurprised. He did not expect to, after all. 

Beloved’s point of origin needs Robin; not Damian Wayne. 

And certainly not Damian al-Ghul. 

Beloved remains concealed for the duration of the day, and after classes conclude, Pennyworth picks Damian–picks them up, Damian supposes. Though it is not an occurrence that he will have cause to become used to, so it hardly matters. 

Or rather, it is–unnecessary, again. 

Obviously. 

Damian submits a request for a detour in their standard route. Pennyworth acquiesces. Damian continues to not understand the unneeded additional steps in a process that could be accomplished with a single order, but Father’s household is hardly as efficient as Damian had once assumed it must be. Unfortunately, a lack of efficiency does not change the standards of behavior currently in place, nor the manners considered appropriate, and so Damian currently must be “polite” by Father’s standards by wasting both his and Pennyworth’s time and energy. 

Damian does not comprehend how wasting finite resources and creating unneeded distractions can be considered polite by any standards whatsoever, but Father has proven to be uninterested in outside opinions of his household’s behaviors. When Damian has previously made requests of various household members to be presented with the logic behind Father’s standards and the application thereof, he has typically been addressed as if he is being deliberately difficult or purposefully misunderstanding, and the requested explanation is is either not provided or is delivered in unclear terms that do not, in fact, present any form of explanation. 

Damian has since moved on to independent research, given the subpar quality of available intel. His research has yet to yield any reasonable explanation of Father’s “polite” inefficiency either, but it is less irritating a process and he is confident in his ability to eventually deduce one. 

Though that is also a waste of time and energy, if again an unfortunately unavoidable one. 

The detour is to a small mid-end shop, its wares largely generic and inexpensive but generally acceptable. It specializes in Pocket-appropriate goods and services. Pockets of course have no true material “needs”, in the sense that they do not require food or water or environmentally-suitable clothing or protection; do not even require medical care or armor. They cannot starve or dehydrate or be injured, even by other Pockets. 

Yet Beloved showed up looking bruised and hungry all the same, and even if he had not . . . 

Damian would best arrange for his comfort either way, though he is certain Father will not approve of the indulgence. The . . . distraction. 

It is only temporary, so it will not matter, Damian tells himself. 

It will not. 

He uses the personal discretionary funds that Father refers to as his “allowance” to purchase a basic supply set of the sort that is traditionally exchanged between newly-recognized soulmates in several cultures, though most certainly not in the League. The practice is old-fashioned in America, but logical in Damian’s eyes as a provided demonstration of shared investment in the developed bond, and proof of both capability and willingness to provide. Typically Pockets manifest after the relevant soulmates have known each other for some time, so it is a natural enough method to display such investment and ability, in his opinion. 

Using his personal discretionary funds for this effort will, Damian presumes, at least make Father less disapproving of the indulgence. Father has attempted to encourage him to purchase other indulgent things with it, after all. Damian has not yet deduced which specific indulgences Father will consider to be acceptable, but the fact that he is making an effort to purchase something that qualifies as one may make Father less disapproving of just which one it is. 

That is not likely, but at least referring to Father’s previous statements is a reasoning that Damian can present if questioned. 

He cannot imagine Beloved’s point of origin being in a situation where he could perform the traditional exchange of supply sets, but it remains . . . unnecessary. Damian’s “allowance” is more than sufficient to provide for Beloved. 

He momentarily considered the appropriateness of purchasing a matched pair of supply sets, but . . . 

It is unnecessary. Whatever Pocket manifested from . . . him would have no need of nor desire for such supplies, and therefore Beloved’s point of origin need not supply them. Such a set would only prove an inconvenience to one clearly in a compromised position in life and likely unstable housing, either way. There is no purpose in Damian burdening his soulmate with such inconveniences. 

The Pocket will not last either way, and so it would be–disingenuous, Damian thinks, to present Beloved’s point of origin with such an item. 

Or more accurately it would be . . . unfair, perhaps, when their Pockets will only be temporary. Likely a civilian would have expectations upon manifesting a Pocket; expectations that Damian could not fulfill for them. Expectations that they would likely be–disappointed, to not see met. So it would be disrespectful to waste their time in such a fashion as pretending otherwise. 

Father can insist that he waste Pennyworth’s time, if that is his preference, but Beloved’s point of origin is . . . not of concern to Father. Beloved will only be a temporary presence, so nothing about his presence need be any concern of Father’s. 

Damian will handle the situation in the way that he is required to–Robin will handle the situation in the way that he is required to–and that is all. 

Beloved remains concealed for the duration of Damian’s time in the shop as well. He did not hide from Pennyworth or Drake in the manor, nor hide from Pennyworth in the towncar, but the school and shop both he kept himself hidden for. Damian observes and notes the information–recalls that he revealed Beloved to Drake deliberately after hiding him himself, and that Drake has Pockets of his own–but is less certain of why Pennyworth was an exception. 

. . . it may have been the drop scones, Damian reflects resignedly, and finds it outright depressing that Beloved came out for drop scones, of all things.

[jmtorres]

i just saw a post about how we just have to "live with" covid and wanting more protections from our government is unreasonable because we'll never wipe it out, it jumps species and is in all sorts of animal populations (like, true ok) so why even try to

and apparently the argument was aimed at people (who I haven't seen in the wild) who are arguing we should still be in lockdown. and i have mixed feelings about the idea of extended lockdown or attenuating isolations; but my main feeling at this point is not that the government should keep us apart but that the government should be trying to make it safer for us to be together

things the government could/should be doing about covid:

we know that ventilation/air movement helps a shitton. we should be incentivizing upgrades to ventilation systems in all public buildings with shit like rebates or tax deductions, while phasing in eventual legal requirements. (and uh. it has occurred to me that the US might actually be doing this sideways by there's currently this decade enormous tax incentives in re energy efficient upgrades for slowing climate change and you know. energy efficient hvac does tend to improve ventilation. extra point to biden here.)

mandatory paid sick leave so workers aren't under social or economic pressure to work when sick

passing out RT-LAMP tests like metrix that actually work instead of the rapid antigen tests that have become less and less reliable as the virus mutates

i don't know how you'd write this law but like 95% or more of computer-based work can be done remotely and companies should not be allowed to force people to return to the office. I know there's people who want to be back in person and I'm not saying they should be forced to stay home but ffs I know of at least two people CLOSE to me who worked remotely before the pandemic and at some point their workplaces tried to tell them they weren't allowed to do that anymore despite the pre-existing contracts. stop canceling remote work for people that want, need, or prefer it.

for that matter, every college lecture that was an online class during covid should still be offered as an online class, there is no reason to force students into auditoriums in person. you got the communications infrastructure up and running, why are you tearing it down. give people the OPTION. it increases accessibility for everyone!

covid vaccine immunity lasts about four months. this should be well-publicized and everyone should be able to re-up for free every four months. "every year, like the flu vaccine" is demonstrably not often enough. actually "for free" isn't good enough start handing out $10 gift cards you will be shocked at how many people who are resistant to the idea of vaccines will fold for $10 a shot

are there already laws on the books about masks in medical settings that some medical professionals are blatantly ignoring because they forgot what best practices were before the plague and they're 'tired of masking'? if not, pass laws. if so, fucking enforce them

oh another incentives for upgrades phasing into legal requirements thing: brass doorknobs and railings over stainless steel or whatever. microbes do not survive on brass surfaces

i mean. i know this one sounds too extreme to a lot of people but. UBI.

most if not all of these measures will prevent or ameliorate other pandemics of different diseases that may arise in the future. and just. generally improve our health and quality of life for other reasons.

I haven't felt safe to go to a concert since 2020. Maybe if I knew a venue was legally required to have ventilation to a certain standard and that none of the ticket takers and ushers were on the job sick to avoid risking loss of paycheck or job, and knew a larger percentage of the crowd had up to date vaccinations--maybe if any or all that, I might ever feel comfortable going to a show again.

wouldn't it be nice if those of us who have been disabled, by covid or other conditions, had accessible remote options but also occasionally felt safe enough to interact with and participate in wider society?

one of the arguments on the post I saw was how isolation was massively psychologically damaging and various strata of society were affected in all sorts of ways, from undersocialized kids to increased depression in--well across the board, I think. and here's the thing: WE KNOW. PEOPLE WITH CHRONIC HEALTH CONDITIONS, LONG COVID OR OTHERWISE, KNOW ISOLATION SUCKS REAL BAD. because we, both for our own health and due to disability ostracism, are still isolating and isolated more than most.

what are you as individuals or societies, what are our governments, doing to help make it safe and accessible to rejoin you????

[drdemonprince]

I keep seeing the posts about male socialization and idk it makes me feel weird because I identify as transfem and I *do* believe I had male socialization. I find it easier to identify with and understand male groups and to feel involved in the while I feel less at ease understanding how women feel and think even though my personal view of myself leans more towards a feminine identity. All these posts make me doubt that I am truly "transfem" and that even if I am, that I am fundamentally transfem in a different way than most other transfems I run into. Is there any sources or writing out there that either provides a counter-perspective or at the very least points to nuance on this subject from a transfem lens? I wish I didn't feel so alone with these feelings.

Your feelings and experience do not make you any less legitimate as a transfeminine person. A lot of trans women rightfully and understandably need to counteract the notion that they're oppressive privileged males or whatever by asserting, as clearly as they can, the many ways in which their socialization was a female socialization, with all the double-standards, demanded emotional labor, sexual predation, etc that entails -- but the very need to assert these things is due to the culture's twisted misconceptions about what gender even is and how it operates.

It's not as though a young person only gets the socialization of the binary gender to which they were assigned -- they get mandatory cishet socialization, and they see what is expected of the "other" gender, and that impacts them, and the standards for that other gender also influence how they are interpreted and seen.

And so I do think, to a certain extent, that when trans people assert that we actually didn't get socialized as our assigned gender at birth, we got socialized as the correct gender, actually, we are unfortunately ceding ground to the transphobes on a couple of key points. One, we're conceeding that there is a singular binary socialization that the two genders each get, which are separate from one another and always exhibit specific features, and two, that a person's socialization as a young person is a key determinant of their gendered experience, privilege, and identity forever, no matter what happens after they are young.

And you know, both those things are totally wrong. There is no one female socialization. I've written about this before, but I wasn't raised to be feminine. I was raised the way working-class girls are raised, which is to be no-nonsense, unfrivolous, serious, sporty, and capable -- a wife and mother, but the kind that never wears a skirt or cries in front of people. And there is no singular "male" socialization either -- I cite a few trans femme people in this piece who experienced themselves as having some male privilege before they transitioned, and some more typically "male" experiences, while also quoting a number of trans women whose lives went the exact opposite way. I assert in the piece that their experiences are theirs to name, and that there's a number of different ways we might each understand and categorize them personally -- especially when we take into account how much gendered socialization is dependent upon class, race, immigration status, diasporic status, and much more.

My view is that however you think your live played out, and whoever you find community alongside, you're right. I'm about to answer a similar ask about this from a trans masc perspective, but I'm a guy who has a ton of women friends and always have. I grew up mostly with girls as my closest buddies and we did things like playing pretend and having slumber parties and doing makeovers. I could chalk this up as a "female socialization" experience I guess if I wanted to. But I also grew up with a lot of gay boys, and I am a gay man, and guess what -- a lot of us grow up with predominately female friends. I don't think I have some essential feminine quality because my friends kept insisting on putting eyeshadow on me when I was ten. The fact I was bad at sports and couldn't be the tough, no-nonsense person that my culture expected me to be was gonna affect me whether I was a boy or a girl. And my upbringing was significantly different from that of one of my very best, oldest friends, whose family owned a successful business and were able to buy her a car and a horse and shit.

You're not betraying anything or lessening your own transfemininity by resonating with some typically "male" experiences or for having close male connections. Lots of queer women do! Just like I have plenty in common with lots of women! We don't say that cis women aren't women because they grew up tomboys, or had a ton of brothers, and the same is true of you. Even if you don't think of your younger self as "a tomboy" or even as a girl. You don't have to ascribe to the narrative that you were always one gender and always moved through the world with that identity. To demand that all trans people do so is respectability politics -- we cannot and should not require that all people be trans in the same ways. I have written before that transition to me feels at once both pre-ordained AND a choice that I made. You can say that you lived as a boy for some years or were a boy if that feels right to you, or that you had certain privileges while also suffering from dysphoria and disconnection; it's your life and you know it best and what serves you.

I wish I had narratives from trans women writers to direct you to, but for the most part the trans women who I've heard express feelings like yours have been in the support and discussion groups I've been in, and in private conversation -- I think because the socialization experiences of trans femmes are so unfairly politicized. I hope if any trans femme people see this have anything to share or any words to say that they will!

[felassan]

Snippets 🐺💜

John Epler quote: "There’s a difference between playersexual and pansexual. All companions are canonically pansexual." [source]

The opening cinematic Varric narrates at the start of the game plays before CC. "Following character creation, Varric's narration continues, revealing that he's put together a group to stop Solas, having recruited our character and a handful of others so far." [source]

Despite the action-heavy focus, positioning is absolutely key, and using careful timing to hit multiple foes at once can be the difference between victory and defeat [source]

"In-between fights, Varric and the other characters, including your fully-voiced protagonist, discuss events that are unfolding and different things that have led up to this moment. Epler notes for the preview that with how much time has passed since prior games, the team wanted to carefully throw in some reminders without it feeling like ham-fisted exposition." [source]

"The Dread Wolf's ambitions have already been laid bare, but I strongly suspect there's more going on, and Epler cryptically hints that not everything will be as it first seems" [source]

 Mages can move instead of standing in one place, allowing them to get up close and personal with enemies - a major game-changer for magic users [source]

Faction choice affects in-game moments between other factions and locations, as well as characters [source]

"When they were creating this area, they kept that in mind and looked at other locations to figure out how they could make it more grand. They developed the entire area based on a comment someone said in a past game, and if that isn’t dedication to lore, I don’t know what is" [source] (re: Minrathous)

In this demo the press saw femme Rook! [source]

The standard three square hotkeys look like an updated version of past ones [source]

"It sounded like there is also a system that allows hints during battle, like when something is a certain range, etc., that they said could be turned off" [source]

"In cutscenes, rain dripping down a building, blood on someone’s hands, or stepping into a puddle looks outstanding". "Things like clothes and hair are dynamic and move with you" [source]

"what at its core is a beautifully told story of revenge, regret, and the complexities of good and evil" [source]

During the interrogation scene in the bar with the shady bartender, Varric pins her to her own station with a crossbow bolt in order to interrogate her. Rook and Varric then go scrounge the city for clues [source]

Re: using body sliders in CC - "It looked incredibly easy to maneuver around and create a body that is either close to that player's real personage or their ideal fantasy self" [source]

Companions "will not only be influenced by your decisions in terms of how they treat you outside of combat, but closeness to party members will also change how they fight, with those closest to Rook more useful and lethal in battle" [source]

"Our presenter said that each specialization was pretty much as deep as a job" [source]

The game will not be available in India. [source]

The game has a Quality mode and a Performance mode on PS5 and Xbox Series consoles. it runs the latest version of Frostbite, targeting frame rates of 60fps in Peformance and 30 in Quality [source]

They will have more to share on both graphics modes for consoles in the coming months. [source]

David Gaider quote on the portrayal of Anders' orientation in DAII:

DA2 writer David Gaider told Kotaku in February this was meant to distinguish Anders’ relationship with male or female versions of Hawke, but recognizes this comes off like the mage’s identity was a switch to be flipped in hindsight. “Unfortunately, we just didn’t have enough time to get enough feedback and iterate on those situations,” he said. “We would hit a particular interaction, we would make a judgment call either as a group or the writer on their own, and that was it. There was no time for anything more than one gut-check, which is probably not the way to go.”

edit: forgot to add src for last one sorry. its here

[mindfulstudyquest]

❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗿 ( 𝗮𝗰𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 !! )

𝟭. improve your writing skills ( ✒️ )

i feel that not everyone has the perception of how important it is to know how to write. you don't have to be a poet, nor the new emily brontë, but fluid, conscious, rich writing makes the difference. really. you could write a page without saying anything at all, but if that damn page is written good and smoothly, then you can be sure that you will get extra points. take the time to improve your writing skills, the best advice i have for doing so is reading. read as much as you can. read novels (non-fiction in this case doesn't help because the content is preferred rather than the form), read contemporary authors – you don't necessarily have to read sophocles' tragedies, but read quality stuff. expand your vocabulary, your knowledge of syntax, learn to use punctuation! and then write, tell stories, write love letters, write reviews of films, books, cultural festivals, open a blog on tumblr and write to practice, reread what you write ad nauseam, until it is perfect, until the form of your essay is pulitzer prize worthy.

bonus some of my favourite authors (tell me in the comments about yours!): ian mcewan, banana yoshimoto, haruki murakami, george orwell, josé saramago, albert camus, khaled hosseini, hanya yanagihara

𝟮. develop critical thinking ( 💭 )

if you have always studied passively by absorbing information and vomiting it onto a test sheet then you have wasted your time. taking on information is not enough, you need to know how to rework it and develop your own idea about it. especially in the arts and literature one may disagree with certain information provided by a textbook. developing critical thinking is not easy, especially due to the school system that teaches us to standardize thinking. always consult all available sources on a given topic, compare them, analyze contradictions. it might be difficult and tiring – our brain spends more energy processing two conflicting pieces of information than processing two pieces of information that agree – but it will be worth it. by practicing critical thinking and improving your argumentation skills, you will not only be able to improve in your studies, becoming able to present complex topics and make interdisciplinary connections, but also in daily life, you will become much less influenced and manipulated by external information.

𝟯. find yourself an interest ( 🌷 )

it could be anything, but find an interest that excites you and you enjoy and do research about it. watch videos, documentaries, read articles. it doesn't have to be school-related, it must be an external topic that you are passionate about and that allows you to rediscover the joy of studying and learning every time school seems to suffocate it. sometimes i'm not in the mood to study for exams, so i dedicate myself to my personal research and finally find my spark, my seek for knowledge. for example, my interest is true crime, it has always fascinated me since i was little, but yours could be wild animals, makeup, comics, ships, planes, ocean flora, literally anything. there is no constraint.

𝟰. analyze your mistakes and recognize your wrongs ( 🫒 )

there is no shame in making mistakes. everyone makes mistakes, we are human, but the real sin is getting bogged down in mistakes, refusing to acknowledge them, and continuing to make them again and again. we should be continually growing, continually discovering ourselves, both intellectually and emotionally. how many of you were the "gifted kid" when you were little and then grew up into burned out high school / uni students desperately seeking academic validation? there comes a time when talent isn't enough, you have to put in the effort, and this doesn't make you less intelligent or gifted, in fact, quite the opposite. dedicating time and attention to your personal and intellectual growth also means having to ruminate on your mistakes. it's scary, but it's the most effective way if you really want to improve. take a notebook and at the end of the day reflect on the highlights and the wrongs, what you could have done better, where you would like to push forward tomorrow, what you achieved today. did you make a mistake? first ask yourself why and then look for a way to solve the problem, make every bad moment a lesson, a brick on which to build the version of you you wanto to become tomorrow.

𝟱. don't be afraid of doing researches ( 🧃 )

the amount of fake news and misinformation online is appalling. opening any app like tiktok or instagram we are inundated with information that is often (not always, but not so rarely) inaccurate. don't be afraid to conduct your own research, if you have time to mindlessly scroll through tiktok you will also have five minutes to read an article regarding that information provided. don't know the meaning of a word? look it up before using it. not sure about a piece of information? check it before using it in your argumentation. in the age of immediate access to data we have no excuse to be superficial.

𝟲. master communication ( ♟️ )

mastering communication is essential in both personal and professional realms. it's the cornerstone of building meaningful relationships, whether it's conveying ideas effectively in academia or fostering connections in the workplace. developing strong communication skills not only enhances your ability to articulate thoughts but also empowers you to listen actively, empathize with others, and resolve conflicts constructively. ultimately, honing these skills cultivates confidence, credibility, and success in all aspects of life.

𝟳. push yourself out of your comfort zone ( 🧸 )

build your confidence. confidence is uncomfortable. don't be afraid of it. you are young, this is the right time to experiment, take risks, discover who you really are. this is the best time for you to do those things that you would otherwise never do, you don't want to regret later in life that you didn't accept that scholarship, that trip abroad, that job opportunity, because you didn't feel comfortable enough. do things that take you out of your comfort zone until everything becomes your comfort zone. go on solo dates, be a social butterfly, tell the girl at the bookstore you love her t-shirt, go to the theater alone, eat at a restaurant alone, take that trip. if it goes badly, you'll only have one funny story to tell.

𝟴. stay informed about the news (but not too much!) ( 🌍 )

this might be controversial, but: stay informed about the news, just don't overdo it. personally, i am an easily influenced person and i realized that being constantly exposed to the bad things happening in the world had drained me and made me terribly depressed. don't get me wrong, you need to be informed about what's happening in the world and in your country, just being constantly surrounded by horrible news repeated ad nauseam on TV programs is of no use. be aware.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

How to write diva like characters, like blingy, dramatic, cool asf characters. I feel we don't talk about socialites and PPL like these but I do wanna put them as a main character

Writing Ideas: Diva Characters

a list of related tropes

The Beautiful Elite: They aren't just beautiful looking. In addition to being healthy and fit, with beautiful skin and hair, their whole life is beautiful. They are more fashionable than anyone else, more sophisticated and charming than anyone else, and are usually both rich and socially powerful. Their clothes are all way too expensive for you to ever own. They live in an elegantly furnished Big Fancy House that is so clean and well organized they look like they are Living in a Furniture Store. They get to hobnob with famous people so much that they may casually refer to them on a First-Name Basis. To a certain degree, this is Truth in Television. In most societies, wealth and attractiveness are highly correlated; the wealthy have much greater access to resources for improving their own appearance, through fitness classes, plastic surgery, healthy food, cosmetics, hairstyling, wardrobe, etc. Moreover, attractive people often have better access to social, financial, and material success, whether through marriage or professional opportunities. And even beyond all that, the very standards of beauty itself, especially feminine beauty, are customarily centered around a demonstration of wealth.

Cosmopolitan Council: The one trait that ties everyone together is that they are all in possession of skill, authority or money, and in excessive amounts. The members will probably be heavily accessorized with gaudy jewelry or a scar to prove their moral alignment. In short, the implication is that each and every member has a varied and storied past… which we very likely won't learn.

Non-Idle Rich: A rich character does a job involving public service (often a cop, soldier, or doctor) despite obviously not needing the pay. Instead, they do the work to help people or for personal satisfaction — or to avoid boredom. They will often have conflict with both their family — who wonder what they're doing down in the muck with the "common people" — and their work peers — who class them sight unseen as a dilettante after thrills. They spend all their time proving themselves.

Socialite: Cultured and rich, and knows how to handle any social situation (or at least upper-class ones).

Socially Scored Society: A setting where everyone's reputation is ranked/scored, and it affects their quality of life.

The Diva: The strong, dark, beautiful woman. She's often a go-getter, chasing stardom, wealth, or just recognition for her talents. If she becomes an Idol, she's not constrained by the pressures of always appearing youthful, innocent, and approachable.

The Prima Donna: An overbearing, egotistical entertainer.

Hidden Heart of Gold: Someone is mean, has become famous for it, and is proud of it, so when they do something nice, they keep it secret.

No Fame, No Wealth, No Service: Places that only let in celebrities.

Old Money: Families that have been wealthy for many generations, and maintain their lifestyle through stewardship of an existing family fortune.

The Sheltered Aristocrat: A character who has lived a life surrounded by luxury and pomp and shielded from the everyday trivialities and mundane issues which the lower classes have to contend with. They see themselves as pure and untainted by the hardships of the outside world, but their Ivory Tower worldview is based on books and tutoring, so they are in for a rude awakening when they leave the castle.

You Are the New Trend: A famous person has his mannerisms copied by everyone.

Examples

Brave New World is one of the most famous examples. A Dystopia where everyone is raised to be a Stepford Smiler, and everyone looks twenty years old (except the Epsilons, the lowest caste; they are barely human).

F. Scott Fitzgerald was fond of The Beautiful Elite trope: Dick and Nicole Diver appear to be Beautiful Elite at the beginning of Tender Is the Night. But deconstructed it in The Great Gatsby, a classic novel that starts off by showing all the glamor of the rich, then revealing the ugly truths behind why some of them are this way. The Beautiful and Damned also starts out with this in play until the main couple's awful life choices start catching up with them.

Elizabeth Roffe in Sidney Sheldon's Bloodline. Despite being able to simply sell her shares of her family's company, she decided to run the company.

George R. R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire: House Lannister is the richest and most glamorous of the Great Houses. They are tall, beautiful and golden-haired. Jamie and Cersei Lannister are regarded as some of the most dashing and beautiful members of the nobility. The expected physical perfection of the Lannisters is part of why Tyrion Lannister, a deformed dwarf, is so reviled by much of his own family.

The Park family in Parasite live in a large, isolated house in the middle of densely packed Seoul to symbolize how sheltered they are from the real world. They casually spend large amounts of money with no real thought, as exemplified by how they ask for "ram-don" — which combines two full servings of instant noodles — topped with expensive sirloin steak for a snack. They serve as Foils to the poor Kims, who are of such modest means that they have to fold pizza boxes to try and make ends meet.

Pride and Prejudice's Lady Catherine de Bourgh is a widow of Blue Blood with a vast fortune and huge income. She's nosy, haughty, and extremely meddlesome. She thinks everybody will do what pleases her.

Sleeping Beauty (1959): As a baby, Princess Aurora is given the gift of beauty by the good fairies, as grows up into a lovely young woman.

Darling (1965) is about Diana Scott, a beauteous model from Swinging Sixties London, who gets into multiple romantic entanglements, attends high-profile charity galas, and flies around the world for various jobs. However, her personal unfulfillment, amorality, and disillusionment with the jet set are running themes, and the film ends with her stuck in a marriage to an Italian prince.

Soul (2020): Dorothea is a downplayed example. She's framed as the height of jazz performers, and definitely has sway over who plays and how in her band. She's quick to hire, fire, and challenge her bandmates to keep up. Her experience in the field also gives Joe the advice he needs to hear about the difference between chasing the dream and living it.

The Great Gatsby: Tom Buchanan and Daisy come from old money and high society. It's put in contrast with Jay Gatsby, who is Nouveau Riche and must engage in Conspicuous Consumption to appear to fit in.

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Here are some tropes and examples you can use as inspiration. You can find more in the sources linked above. Choose which ones you would like to incorporate in your story. Hope this helps with your writing!