#sometimes by multiple different translators

[themoonking]

see someone spreading misinformation about ancient greece online, gently correct them, they say "well discerning whats canon and whats fanon in greek mythology is really difficult". i am killed instantly.

[hanzajesthanza]

i was looking up tips for formatting bilingual books (for example, a copy of idk the iliad with ancient greek on one side, english translation on the other), but i didn’t know the word describing this kind of format 🤔

so i was stringing together keywords like “book with two languages” and one of the results was a reddit post with someone trying to find a book that alternates between multiple languages, i.e., there are no translations, it’s it’s one text, but half of the story is in english, then the other half, or interwoven throughout, is in french or whatever

and it took strength to not suggest the hussite trilogy 🥴

[b-blushes]

laughably bad subtitles in this day and age is like. no words for this

[lunarmochi]

i heard someone say this the other day and i think it describes me perfectly:

"i don't have a preference for partners, but if you look across my favorite characters, there is some consistency between them."

yes, a lot of the people/characters i like may have X or Y trait.

no, that does not mean i will only fall for a person that has those traits.

no, that does not mean i will love my partner any less if they don't have any of those traits.

[today-i-am-thinking-about]

methods of transliteration to different alphabets

[timetravellingkitty]

everyday i see clueless westerners (especially white people) peddle thinly veiled hindutva propaganda which they wouldn't know cause they know absolutely nothing about what goes on in india. so here are some signs that that the person you're talking to is a hindu nationalist:

they either do not acknowledge casteism or claim that caste is a western construct. my personal favourite however is dismissing anyone bringing up caste discrimination by saying that the indian constitution outlaws untouchability. they may also bring up the fact that the prime minister belongs to an other backwards class (obc) so clearly india has moved on from caste and hindutva isn't only for the upper castes. they possess a shallow understanding of caste

harping on about "islamic colonisation" : no, the mughals did not colonise india. when you point this out, they will immediately assume that you think muslim invaders were innocent beings who did nothing wrong, which is very much not what anyone is claiming here

while we're on the topic of "islamic colonisation" they will also refer to the demolishing of muslim sites of heritage and worship and then building hindu temples over them as "decolonisation" (cough cough ram mandir) the hindu right also goes around pretending that they're the indigenous people of india

along a similar vein, they will dismiss islamophobia by bringing up instances of hindu oppression in countries like pakistan and bangladesh. it is true that hindus are persecuted in these two countries, however they are used to fuel their oppression complex, that their upper caste hindu self is under attack in india of all places (think a white christian in the united states). you should be in solidarity with minorities everywhere. it is neither transactional or conditional (note: they will never bring up sri lanka. persecution of hindus exists only when the oppressors are muslim)

claiming that hindu nationalism and hindutva are not the same because hindutva means "hindu-ness". that is only the literal translation of the term. like it or not, they're the same thing

they support the indian military occupation of kashmir. they will call it an integral part of kashmir, one reason which will be "hinduism is indigenous to kashmir." they will also bring up the last maharaja of kashmir signing the instrument of accession as further proof, as if the consent of the people was taken

they're zionists. do i even need to explain this. hindutva is just zionism for hindus

they refer to buddhism and jainism (sikhism too sometimes) as branches of hinduism rather than separate, distinct religions

they condemn any resistance to the indian govt as a burden or terrorism (like calling the farmers who are currently protesting a hindrance or terrorists. funny how sikhs are the same as hindus when they support hindu causes but terrorists when they resist oppression...)

they call you a pseudo liberal or a fake leftist. i'm telling you, they don't know jackshit. they can't even tell the difference between a liberal and a leftist and call US unread lmao. bonus points if they call you a liberandu or a sickular 💀

they call india "bharat" when they talk in english. there are in fact multiple indian languages that call india bharat or bharatam, but if they say bharat while talking in english, that is absolutely a hindu nationalist no questions asked

please do your due diligence. read up on hindutva. hindu nationalists have already started making gains in the united states, thanks to rich upper caste nris. do not fall for propaganda

[aysrin]

Needle Felt Siffrin Build Log: (oct 6 - nov 20, 2024)

Credits goes wholely to @insertdisc5 for creating ISAT and siffrin's design! I am just here to attempt to make cool fanart (and get more people to play isat.. my devious plans are going great so far :3) As always, this isn't a tutorial- it is just a log about how i go about approaching a sculpture and I hope this collection of resources can help others make their own sifs!!

PSA: this has some spoilers for endgame CGs/sprites on my references image board ( also might see it in the backgrounds of my process pics). And bc this is needle felting, you will see some sharp needles! beware!

my inspiration was the intro cutscene where Sif eats the star, so my main goal was to adhere to the style of ISAT as closely as possible while transfering it to 3D space. And I knew i also wanted to try making the cloak for stopmotion purposes, so my process was tailored towards having control over the fabric with wire inlaid within the cloak (more on that later).

I ended up not sticking eyebrows on top of siffrin's bangs lol but anyways, first order of business is Gather Reference! v important. pureref is free and an awesome program. I also do some sketches to visualize the pose and important details i wanted to include in the sculpt.

behold the isat wiki gallery page! tawnysoup wrote an awesome ISAT style guide that absolutely rings true in 3d space too!! adrienne made a sif hair guide here!! (sorry i couldnt find the original link, but it's on the wiki). It says ref komaeda hair so that's what i looked at, along with other adjacent hairstyles! I also like doing drawovers on in progress photos to previs shapes n stuff to get a better idea of the end result.

Also if you're like me and struggle with translating stuff into 3D space, take a look at how people make 3d models and figurines! sketchfab is also a great resource! I looked at the link botw model by Christoph Schoch here for hair ref. (I used Maya, but there's a blender version too ! you can pose characters too if your model has been rigged!)

Face:

Started off blocking out the main shapes of eyelids and iris, and then filling in the colour details in the iris and the star highlights before moving onto adding thin black outlines and eyelashes. I didn't take many in-progress photos cause i kept ripping stuff out to redo them many many times, sorry!! This eye took about 3 hrs bc i just wasn't happy with it!! Sometimes it do be the vibe to give up, go to bed and see how it looks in the morning (more often than naught, it looks fine and it was the "dont trust yourself after 9pm" speaking)

The Mouth:

Couldn't decide if i even wanted to add a mouth as per usual with all my humanoid sculptures.. but i did some drawover tests first to see what expression i liked and to try to visualize it from multiple angles. (I was also testing the placement of stars on the hat brim here)

And then I redid the mouth like 3 times cause the angle just wasn't right (this went on for about the course of a week yay!)

Hair: woe baldfrin be upon ye

I made the hair strands individually first, and then since Sif has some of the hair at the back dyed black, i covered some of the tips with black wool (manually) (I think it would go much faster if i just took a marker to it, but hahaha i love pain and detailing!! )

And then the rest of it was positioning strands with sewing pins layer by layer, always looking at it from different multiple angles- sometimes tailoring the angle or swoop of individual hair flippies. At one point I thought the back looked too cluttered, but the hat covers a lot of it anyways!! yay for hiding mistakes! (imo this is a similar process to how cosplayers style wigs, but on a smaller scale and the same level of time consuming)

As always, look to your reference for guides, and I always do a whole bunch of drawovers over in progress photos to ascertain what was working and what wasn't.

Hat:

A trick to get a super pointy tip, make another tip seperately while keeping the connection point unfelted, and then combine the two to make super pointy hat!! (this also helps if you made the hat too short and need it to be taller. ask me how i know)

The embroidery on the hat brim was done in a hoop and then invisible stitched to the felted top portion. Technically you don't need a hoop but it helps keep the fabric tension, so you avoid puckers in your embroidery. You can also use iron-on stabilizer if your fabric is loose weave or particularly thin. this is the tutorial i used for the stars embroidery! particularly the fly stitch one, french knots, and the criss-cross stitches. highly recommend needlenthread for embroidery stitches and techniques! i learned all my embroidery from this single site alone.

For fabric, I think I used a polycotton i had in my stash,, unsure of the actual fiber content bc i bought it a long time ago. I used DMC Satin floss which was nice and subtle shiny but frayed a lot so it was kind of a pain to stitch with... but keep a short thread length and perservere through it!! After the embroidery was done, I folded up the raw edges and invisible sewed it to the top portion of the hat.

General shape:

Ok general structure of the body is this: wire armature body covered with black wool -> cloak lining & wire cage -> edge of lining is invisibly sewn to the main cloak at the hem -> head

Don't be afraid to mess around with the pattern, it's essentially a pizza with a slice taken out of it to form a steep cone shape!! Use draft paper before cutting into felt to save material! (i think i made like 3 cloaks before i was happy with the shape lol).

You can also hide the seam of the cloak and collars by gently messing up the fibers of the felt with your fingers or a felting needle btw! you can also sandpaper the seams according to Sarah Spaceman in this vid (highly recommend them for their in depth cosplay/crafting builds holy smokes), though since sif cloak is at such a smol scale, I just blended the seam with my felting needle.

For the lining wire cage section, I sewed in wire around the cloak, so the main rotation point is at the top neck area under the collar. These paddles are used to keep whatever pose I need the cloak to be in for stopmotion purposes. Then after the wire is done, I invisibly sewed the lining to the cloak at the hem (same technique as the hat brim to the lining there).

In hindsight, I should've used a thinner fabric for the lining, but i only had sheer white in my stash so had to go with double felt, thus resulting in a really bulky lining but oh well!

Heels:

started with the general boot shape, then tacking on the diamond shape heel stack and also diamond shape sole bc we're committed to the bit here. I skewer the boot onto the armature which also conveniently hides the connection point into the base to keep the whole thing upright and also I can rotate the boot to tweak the angle if needed.

Pins:

I kinda just trial and error'd jewellery wire with pliers into the pin shapes. They're itty bitty!! had a whole bunch of fails before i got two nice ones. A hot tip is to use needle nose pliers and wrap the wire around the tip to get a smooth circle shape!

Base:

I smoothed out the edge of a circular wood base with a dremel, and then used wood stainer to get the black colour. It ended up kinda looking like I took a sharpie to it, but whatever.... now i have a whole ass can of black wood stainer........ I then made a rough mountain of black wool and stuck the feet armature in. And now he's standing!!

Normally at this point when I'm done felting everything, to get a smooth finish, I'd take a small pair of scissors and carefully snip away any flyaway fibers, but this time, I just left them fluffy cause i think that's what sif would do :3c

Photoshoot:

Normally I do shoots using daylight but it was winter so the sun was nonexistent. So I broke out the home lighting setup aka dollarstore posterboard for a nice smooth background, and then hit it with the overhead Fill, side Fill 2, and Rim light, and use white paper/posterboard for bounce light if one side feels too dark. But if things are overexposed, you can move the light sources away until the harshness dims down. I'm using a Olympus mirrorless camera (handed down to me by my sibling so i dont remember the model exactly), which can connect to my phone as a remote so I can avoid shaking the camera when i take photos. Pretty nifty for stopmotion purposes! (yes my camera stand is a stack of notebooks, a tissuebox and some eva foam under the lens, don't judge me)

Stopmotion animation:

I'm still figuring stopmo out on my part, but my process was straight ahead animation ... move the cloak a cm, take a pic.... move another cm, click.... and repeat until i get a version I was happy with. My ref was the cloak animation from Gris (beautiful game btw). The 2d star animation was also done straight ahead using procreate, exported in png with a transparent background, and finally stitched together with the stopmotion footage in photoshop.

My turnarounds are also stopmotion! also secret hack, the turntable is a fidget spinner sticky tacked to a cake platter.

And i think that's all! i mainly wanted to share how I go about thinking about taking a 2d concept and moving it to 3D. I also didn't go in depth into how to actually do the needle felting bc I don't think I''d be very helpful I'm a very good teacher by telling yall to just keep stabbing until it looks right (i'm self taught for this hobby),,, if anyone wants it though, i can share a bunch of tutorials and other felters' process that helped me learn more needle felting!

Hopefully this was helpful to someone! Feel free to send asks if ya got any questions or if anything needs clarification! Or show me your works! I love seeing other people's crafts :3

here have a cookie for making it this far 🥐

[haru-dipthong]

Gendered pronouns in Japanese vs English

In Revolutionary Girl Utena, the main character Utena is a girl (it says so in the title), but very conspicuously uses the masculine first person pronoun 僕 (boku) and dresses in (a variation of) the boys school uniform. Utena's gender, and gender in general, is a core theme of the work. And yet, I haven’t seen a single translation or analysis post where anyone considers using anything other than she/her for Utena when speaking of her in English. This made me wonder: how does one’s choice of pronouns in Japanese correspond to what one’s preferred pronouns would be in English?

There are 3 main differences between gendered pronouns in Japanese vs English

Japanese pronouns are used to refer to yourself (first-person), while English pronouns are used to refer to others (third-person)

The Japanese pronoun you use will differ based on context

Japanese pronouns signify more than just gender

Let’s look at each of these differences in turn and how these differences might lead to a seeming incongruity between one’s Japanese pronoun choice and one’s English pronoun choice (such as the 僕 (boku) vs she/her discrepancy with Utena).

Part 1: First-person vs third-person

While Japanese does technically have gendered third person pronouns （彼、彼女） they are used infrequently¹ and have much less cultural importance placed on them than English third person pronouns. Therefore, I would argue that the cultural equivalent of the gender-signifying third-person pronoun in English is the Japanese first-person pronoun. Much like English “pronouns in bio”, Japanese first-person pronoun choice is considered an expression of identity.

Japanese pronouns are used exclusively to refer to yourself, and therefore a speaker can change the pronoun they’re using for themself on a whim, sometimes mid-conversation, without it being much of an incident. Meanwhile in English, Marquis Bey argues that “Pronouns are like tiny vessels of verification that others are picking up what you are putting down” (2021). By having others use them and externally verify the internal truth of one’s gender, English pronouns, I believe, are seen as more truthful, less frivolous, than Japanese pronouns. They are seen as signifying an objective truth of the referent’s gender; if not objective then at least socially agreed-upon, while Japanese pronouns only signify how the subject feels at this particular moment — purely subjective.

Part 2: Context dependent pronoun use

Japanese speakers often don’t use just one pronoun. As you can see in the below chart, a young man using 俺 (ore) among friends might use 私 (watashi) or 自分 (jibun) when speaking to a teacher. This complicates the idea that these pronouns are gendered, because their gendering depends heavily on context. A man using 私 (watashi) to a teacher is gender-conforming, a man using 私 (watashi) while drinking with friends is gender-non-conforming. Again, this reinforces the relative instability of Japanese pronoun choice, and distances it from gender.

Part 3: Signifying more than gender

English pronouns signify little besides the gender of the antecedent. Because of this, pronouns in English have come to be a shorthand for expressing one’s own gender experience - they reflect an internal gendered truth. However, Japanese pronoun choice doesn’t reflect an “internal truth” of gender. It can signify multiple aspects of your self - gender, sexuality, personality.

For example, 僕 (boku) is used by gay men to communicate that they are bottoms, contrasted with the use of 俺 (ore) by tops. 僕 (boku) may also be used by softer, academic men and boys (in casual contexts - note that many men use 僕 (boku) in more formal contexts) as a personality signifier - maybe to communicate something as simplistic as “I’m not the kind of guy who’s into sports.” 俺 (ore) could be used by a butch lesbian who still strongly identifies as a woman, in order to signify sexuality and an assertive personality. 私 (watashi) may be used by people of all genders to convey professionalism. The list goes on.

I believe this is what’s happening with Utena - she is signifying her rebellion against traditional feminine gender roles with her use of 僕 (boku), but as part of this rebellion, she necessarily must still be a girl. Rather than saying “girls don’t use boku, so I’m not a girl”, her pronoun choice is saying “your conception of femininity is bullshit, girls can use boku too”.

Through translation, gendered assumptions need to be made, sometimes about real people. Remember that he/they, she/her, they/them are purely English linguistic constructs, and don’t correspond directly to one’s gender, just as they don’t correspond directly to the Japanese pronouns one might use. Imagine a scenario where you are translating a news story about a Japanese genderqueer person. The most ethical way to determine what pronouns they would prefer would be to get in contact with them and ask them, right? But what if they don’t speak English? Are you going to have to teach them English, and the nuances of English pronoun choice, before you can translate the piece? That would be ridiculous! It’s simply not a viable option². So you must make a gendered assumption based on all the factors - their Japanese pronoun use (context dependent!), their clothing, the way they present their body, their speech patterns, etc.

If translation is about rewriting the text as if it were originally in the target language, you must also rewrite the gender of those people and characters in the translation. The question you must ask yourself is: How does their gender presentation, which has been tailored to a Japanese-language understanding of gender, correspond to an equivalent English-language understanding of gender? This is an incredibly fraught decision, but nonetheless a necessary one. It’s an unsatisfying dilemma, and one that poignantly exposes the fickle, unstable, culture-dependent nature of gender.

Notes and References

¹ Usually in Japanese, speakers use the person’s name directly to address someone in second or third person

² And has colonialist undertones as a solution if you ask me - “You need to pick English pronouns! You ought to understand your gender through our language!”

Bey, Marquis— 2021 Re: [No Subject]—On Nonbinary Gender

Rose divider taken from this post

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

2025 book bingo time 📚

want a completely arbitrary set of reading goals for 2025? want to try something new in your literary diet but don't know where to start? just like a challenge for the sake of a challenge? just love a good game of bingo?

boy do I have something for you!

for anyone planning to participate, please know that I LOVE attention and talking about books, so I would be STOKED to be tagged on any and all updates about what you're reading or planning to read. I'm so, so excited to see all the different ways these prompts get filled, especially if and when they bring people away from the kinds of things they normally read. not to mention snag some new reading recs myself, hopefully!

and of course, I want to know whenever somebody gets a bingo - and ESPECIALLY if somebody fills the whole board! I don't have any prizes for you, but I can offer a sense of accomplishment :)

note that this is designed to be played as 1 book = 1 space, so even if you read, say, a fantasy graphic novel published in 1923 from an indie publisher that has a bat on the cover, you'd only cross off one space. I'm not a cop and I'm not in charge of what you read, so if it sparks more joy to check off multiple spaces per book then go nuts, but I am throwing that disclaimer out there.

EDIT: the 2025 book bingo challenge is now also on storygraph, thanks to @obi-wann-cannoli!

DOUBLE EDIT: there is also now a discord server for the book bingo, thanks to @drivingmebonkas! you can join it here!

wondering what some of these spaces mean? seeking a couple recommendations to get you started? no idea what a zine even is, let alone how to make one? worry not! I have a guide to all 25 prompts, including recommendations + an example of what I'll be reading throughout the year to fulfill each space. read on beneath the cut!

Literary Fiction: I find that a lot of people are reluctant to check out literary fiction, as it’s often written off as not being about anything but adultery and divorce. If this is you, I implore you to take a chance, acknowledge that adultery and divorce are compelling sometimes, and also remember that lit fic has a lot more to offer than that. At Writer’s Digest, Michael Woodson describes literary fiction as “less of a genre than a category,” which “focuses on style, character, and theme over plot.” My recommendations include Raven Leilani’s Luster, Ocean Vuong’s On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, and Melissa Broder’s Milk Fed. 

I’ll be reading: Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar

2. Short Story Collection: You know, a bunch of short stories together in one book? It doesn’t get much more self-explanatory than that. Could be a collection of stories by a single author or an anthology—it’s up to you! I recommend checking out Mariana Enríquez’s The Dangers of Smoking in Bed (translated by Megan McDowell), Nalo Hopkinson’s Falling in Love With Hominids, and Kim Fu’s Lesser Known Monsters of the 21st Century. 

I’ll be reading: Your Utopia by Bora Chung and translated by Anton Hur 

3. A Sequel: It could be one that you’ve been meaning to get around to, one that’s not releasing until 2025, or the sequel to something you read to cross off another space on this very bingo sheet!

I’ll be reading: Heavenly Tyrant by Xiran Jay Zhao, sequel to 2021’s Iron Widow 

4. Childhood Favorite: Go back and read a book you loved as a child, tween, or teen! There’s no wrong answer here; anything from a YA novel to a picture book would be just lovely, and I can’t wait to see what people pick for this option! I’m not sure which of my old favorites I’ll be revisiting yet—should I go for the warm and fuzzy Casson Family series, or straight towards the mindfucky sci-fi of Interstellar Piggy? Or maybe I’ll go see how Artemis Fowl holds up...

5. 20th Century Speculative Fiction: For those not familiar with the term, speculative fiction can encapsulate science fiction, fantasy, and anything else that falls into the unreal. You’re spoiled for iconic choices here: the 20th century gave us Le Guin’s Left Hand of Darkness, Atwood’s Handmaid’s Tale, Butler’s Parable of the Sower and Kindred, L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time, the beginning of Pratchett’s Discworld series, Diana Wynne Jones’ Howls’ Moving Castle, and countless others.

I’ll be reading: Dawn by Octavia E. Butler, love of my literary life 💜

6. Fantasy: Fantasy comes in a thousand different shades, from contemporary urban wizards with day jobs at the office to high fantasy spellslingers chasing dragons away from castles. Some examples I’ve adored are N.K. Jemisin’s The Killing Moon, C.L. Polk’s Witchmark, Fonda Lee’s Jade City, and Nghi Vo’s Empress of Salt and Fortune.

I’ll be reading: The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi by Shannon Chakraborty  

7. Published Before 1950: This one could not be more straightforward if I tried. You have all of human history (or at least, all the parts that have surviving literature), just not the last 75 years. Dig deep! 

I’ll be reading: Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, published in 1938 

8. Independent Publisher: Did you guys know that just five publishing companies (Penguin Random House, HarperCollins Publishers, Macmillan Publishers, Simon & Schuster, and Hachette Book Group) are responsible for 80% of books published in the US each year, and 25% of books globally? Break away from the big five and see what some small presses are putting out! If you need some ideas about where to start, check out this list of nearly 300 independent publishers with notes on what kind of books they put out!

I’ll be reading: Taiwan Travelogue by Yáng Shuāng-zǐ and translated by Lin King, from Graywolf Press

9. Graphic Novel/Comic Book/Manga: Despite my personal obsession with Batman, the world of comic books is sooo much wider than Gotham City—or anything else that DC and Marvel have to offer. If superheroes aren’t your speed, check out the Southern gothic of Carmen Maria Machado and Dani Strips’ comic The Low, Low Woods, splash around in Kat Leyh’s graphic novel Thirsty Mermaids, or stop waiting for a new season of Dungeon Meshi and go read Ryoko Kui’s manga, translated to English by Taylor Engel. 

I’ll be reading: The Fade, by Aabria Iyengar and Mari Costa

10. Animal on the Cover: Yes, yes, don’t judge a book by its cover—but do go find one with a critter on the cover and give it a read! Absolutely no other requirements here, get silly with it.

I’ll be reading: Shark Heart by Emily Habeck

11. Set in a Country You Have Never Visited: Fiction or nonfiction, doesn’t matter so long as it gives you a little glimpse of a country you’ve never visited in real life. If you’ve somehow visited every country currently recognized in the world, then I guess you get to go read something set in space.

I’ll be reading: A Magical Girl Retires by Park Seolyeon and Kim Sanho, translated by Anton Hur 

12. Science Fiction: A genre just as diverse as fantasy, with a little something for everybody! I recommend Becky Chambers’ Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet for those who want to kiss an alien in the stars and Jessamine Chan’s The School for Good Mothers for those who want a surveillance state dystopia that hits much closer to home.  

I’ll be reading: Womb City by Tlotlo Tsamaase

13. 2025 Debut Author: Read a book by someone who’s releasing their first book in 2025. Fic or nonfic, any genre, no further requirements. Not quite a free space, but pretty close!

I’ll be reading: Liquid: A Love Story by Mariam Rahmani, coming out March 11

14. Memoir: Per Wikipedia, a memoir is “any nonfiction narrative writing based on the author’s personal memories.” Some are funny, some are heartbreaking, some are both! I recommend Carman Maria Machado’s In the Dream House and Roxane Gay’s Hunger, because I tend to lean heartbreaking! 

I’ll be reading: Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner. Again, I like heartbreaking!

15. Read a Zine, Make a Zine: Not familiar with zines? No problem! Check out some of these digital archives for inspiration, and then craft your own zine with this simple guide (or do it your own way, I’m not in charge of you). 

Internet Archives: https://archive.org/details/zines

Gay Zine Archive Project: https://gittings.qzap.org/ 

POC Zine Project: https://poczineproject.tumblr.com/ 

Library of Congress: https://www.loc.gov/collections/zine-web-archive/ 

16. Essay Collection: Like a short story collection, but it’s nonfiction now. Some of my favorites include Samantha Irby’s We Are Never Meeting in Real Life, Elaine Castillo’s How to Read Now, Aimee Nezhukhumatathil’s World of Wonders, and Cathy Park Hong’s Minor Feelings.

I’ll be reading: A Little Devil in America: In Praise of Black Performance by Hanif Abdurraqib 

17. 2024 Award Winner: What award? Any award you like! And boy, there are tons to pick from. Any book that won any award in the year 2024 is free game. If you need some places to start looking, check out some of these:

Lambda Literary Awards, for excellence in LGBT literature: https://lambdaliterary.org/awards__trashed/2024-winners/ 

The Alex Awards, for adult books with crossover appeal for teen readers: https://www.ala.org/yalsa/alex-awards 

Ignyte Awards, celebrating diversity in speculative fiction: https://ignyteawards.fiyahlitmag.com/2024-results/  

Women's Prize for Fiction (self explanatory) https://womensprize.com/prizes/womens-prize-for-fiction/

Others: https://www.bookbrowse.com/awards/ 

I’ll be reading: Biography of X by Catherine Lacey, winner of the 2024 Lambda Literary Award for Lesbian Fiction

18. Nonfiction: Learn Something New: I know very little about archaeology, anthropology, or any other fields that involve studying ancient cities, but Annalee Newitz’s Four Lost Cities: A Secret History of the Urban Age was some of the most fun I had with nonfiction in 2024, because every page brought a brand new discovery. For 2025, find a nonfiction book about a topic you don’t know ANYTHING about, and learn something new!

I’ll be reading: Cooling the Tropics: Ice, Indigeneity, and Hawaiian Refreshment by Hi’ilei Julia Kawehipuaakahaopulani Hobart

19. Social Justice & Activism: Read a book about a social issue, the history of an activist movement, or brush up on a guiding philosophy or ideology. Arm yourself with knowledge, besties, because I have a feeling we’re going to need it! if you need a good place to start, why not try Angela Davis' Race, Women & Class, Mariame Kaba's We Do This 'Til We Free Us, or Molly Smith and Juno Mac's Revolting Prostitutes?

I’ll be reading: White Feminism: From Suffragettes to Influencers and Who They Leave Behind by Koa Beck

20. Romance Novel: Listen to me. Fucking listen to me. I mean a ROMANCE. NOVEL. Not a novel that incidentally has a romance in it. Romance novel, motherfucker. Go check out the romance section and have some whimsy as two people fall in love through the most contrived series of events ever conceived. If you really need a romance that makes you feel smart (that’s still sexy and messy as hell), try Akwaeke Emezi’s You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty.

I’ll be reading: Go Luck Yourself by Sara Raasche  

21. Read and Make a Recipe: Could be a cookbook, could be a recipe you yoinked from the New York Times, could be something your grandparents lovingly wrote down by hand. Could be as complex or as simple as you like, just make something tasty! Some cookbooks I’ve enjoyed are Sohla El-Waylly’s Start Here, Dan Pashman’s Mission Impastable, and John Wang and Storm Garner’s The World Eats Here.

22. Horror: Slashers, zombies, haunted houses, creeping paranoia, you name it! It’s time to get spooky and scary with all kinds of things going bump in the night. Maybe this is the year to finally keep up with Dracula Daily? Not for me, I'm not doing that, but you could!

I’ll be reading: I Was A Teenage Slasher by Stephen Graham Jones

23. Published in the Aughts: A throwback, but not too far back. Read something published between 2000 and 2009. Maybe it’s time to finally get into Twilight? (For legal reasons, that’s a joke.)

I’ll be reading: The Sluts by Dennis Cooper, published in 2004

24. Historical Fiction: You know, fiction that takes place in a bygone era! Please remember, this isn’t just about reading a book that’s old; we have a separate prompt for that! This is about reading something that takes place in the past relative to the time it was written. Pride and Prejudice is historical to us, but was contemporary when Austen wrote it. Think of Brit Bennett's The Vanishing Half, Markus Zusak's The Book Thief, or history + a bit of fantasy in book's like R.F. Kuang's Babel.

I’ll be reading: The Yiddish Policemen's Union by Michael Chabon

Bookseller or Librarian Recommendation: This one is fun, and something I always like to do when I’m travelling and visiting a new bookstore. Ask a bookseller or librarian to recommend something they’ve liked, and check it out! If going in person isn’t feasible, many bookstores and libraries have staff picks on their websites, and the Indie Next List is a monthly list of independent booksellers’ favorite new releases. 

I’ll be reading: The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse by Louise Erdrich, which I bought at Erdrich’s bookstore, Birchbark Books, this summer :)

lastly: tagging people who asked to be tagged to make sure they didn't miss this! @thebisexualwreckoning @perfunctoryperfusions @reallyinkyhands come get your bingo sheet!

[mereyapalais]

JE SUIS LÀ POUR TOI

Modern Stack x Reader

Ignore the fire in the picture pls. Lol

Excuse any errors. Enjoy

Ghosting was your defense mechanism. Having been hurt countless of times in the past made it hard for you to completely trust anyone that came in your life and show interest.

No matter house much they show up and show out, that little voice in your head is always ready and armed with all the wrong words to convince you that it’s all for show. They’re just doing it cause they want something from you.

They don’t really like you, just passing time.

You’ve fallen victim to the little devil in your mind. Sure it cost you a few great relationships but the lack of effort put in to to truly trying to keep you in their life always made you believe that you were actually right. No one truly likes you.

That’s until you met Elias, alias Stack.

It’s almost like someone out there, it be God or any other Divine Creature, knew exactly what you needed in that moment. Stack was truly a blessing. A gift.

Your biggest criteria for your partner was that they had to be funny. Someone with whom you can share hearty laughs mixed with some deep conversations.

With Stack, you found all that and then some.

That man could laugh you out your panties. But once he got you in that bed, nothing was funny anymore. Your previous laughs turned into cries of pleasure. Lips singing a totally different tune which translated the state of euphoria he had you in.

Never had you met a man with a skilled mouth inside and outside the bedroom.

Every thing was copacetic. Until you started going ghost on him.

It started with you taking hours to respond to his text messages. Purposely missing his calls. Engaging less in conversation.

Until you started to actively limit your rendezvous. Each day of the week had its own unique excuse.

Despite him trying to be understanding and giving you time, Stack could notice something was wrong. Sure you’ve only known each other for a fraction of time, but that doesn’t mean he hadn’t been paying special attention to you.

You really came into his life and transpercer son coeur like a cupids bow.

When he found himself thinking about you at random times of the day, loosing interest in his little pass time ladies. That’s when he knew he wanted you in life. At least for a little while longer.

He tried to practice patience with you. Be understanding. Don’t smother you too much and be annoying. Lord knows he’s never felt such strong feelings for someone before. But after a few days of you ghosting him, he couldn’t take it anymore.

He didn’t even put much thought into what he was going to do. All he knew was that he hasn’t seen you in a minute and he was gonna see you today.

———————————————————————

There you were in your small bubble. Just enjoying the quiet of your home. At least you were trying to.

Before Stack, staying alone in silence for a prolonged period of time was not a problem. But things have changed. You don’t remember when they changed. They just did.

The silence in your home right now is just an indication that something’s missing. Someone’s missing.

Whenever stack was around, silence was a rare guest in the domicile. Whether it was the booming voice of his off key singing. Him telling you stories about all his multiple adventures. Even sharing some stories of his past crazy situationships.

Other times, his soothing voice was the only thing that could get you back to earth. Whispering sweet words in your ear. Cradling you in your arms so as to shield you from your thoughts. Sometimes he wished he could get in your head and remove all the weeds that have been growing there. Replace them with beautiful, colourful flowers.

Seven loud knocks in interval came to your door. The first few knocks were faint. But as the seconds passed without you opening up, the knocks became louder and louder.

At this point you feared your nosy older neighbours would be disturbed.

Approaching the door on your tippy toes so as to not reveal any human activity and alarm the other person of your presence, you looked through the peep hole.

“You don’t even gotta look. You already know it’s me, love. Open up.”

He was right you already know who stood on the other side of the door. You didn’t think he’d show up this soon. That’s a record. Normally they just get used to your absence. And vice versa.

“Aye, you better open up ‘fore I cause a scene for your bougie ass neighbours.”

You sighed proceeding to open the locks. As the door swung open his hand was in mid air as if waiting to knock again.

At the sight of you, he dropped his hand and with it went the wrinkles on his forehead. His face relaxed. Heart beating a bit slower when he saw you were still in one piece and breathing.

The both of you just stood there. No one uttering a thing. Simply contemplating each other.

No matter how much you tried to convince yourself you didn’t miss him, seeing him in front you made all the feelings you tried so hard to hide away came springing up to the surface.

“You really thought you could get rid of me that easily? I told you, you’re already in my system.”

“You not even gonna let me in?” His question was out of the ordinary. Any other time he would’ve already let himself in the minute you opened the door. Problem was, this wasn’t any other time. He knows he has to go slowly with you. Take his time so as to not push you away even more.

You didn’t give a verbal answer. Just stepped aside and he took the hint. Besides you couldn’t trust your voice in the moment. Your brain was running a thousand miles per minute trying to find the right excuse you were going to dish him.

Now inside the house, you were waiting for him to unleash his anger. Tell you how foul you were. Get all the things he has to say ofc his chest before storming out.

That didn’t happen. He looked at you with the softest expression in his eyes before meekly declaring “I miss you.”

Now that’s..new. Not knowing what to say since he caught you off guard. You simply stood there looking at him. You wanted to tell him how much you share the same sentiment as him. How much he has been occupying my mind lately. The word’s didn’t make it to your lips.

“You don’t even gotta tell me anything right now. Just let me be there for you. Please?”

Yeah, that did it. First it was the slight expansion of your nose, then you lips quivering lightly, like a child ready to cry, throat constricting, then finally your eyes stinging before they became blurry.

———————————————————————

You don’t recall how you got here. You body completely enveloped by a warm blanket, body melting in the comfortable mattress.

Looking outside the window, obscurity had taken over the sky. Time had really passed. How long have you been out?

Your senses started to awaken slowly but surely. One thing captured your attention. The aroma of some good home cooked meal seduced your nostrils. That’s when your stomach decided to announce itself with a loud grumble.

You left the comfort of your bed as you headed for the kitchen.

The sight in front of you tugged at your heart strings. There in your decent size kitchen was Elias, wiping down the kitchen that was visibly messy after his cooking. He was so focused on his task he couldn’t even hear you come in his space.

Not knowing how to announce yourself, you let out a small “ahem”. That caught his attention.

Turning around, he smiled as soon as he saw your face.

“You’re awake. I wanted to get done here ‘fore coming to wake you up. I know you don’t like eating when the kitchen’s messy.”

Good lord. He couldn’t get more perfect than this. Here he was taking care of you. Not once has he shown you his displeasure with

“It’s fine. The food actually directed me here. It smells nice.”

“Yeah I figured you’d be hungry after you wake up so I decided to throw something together for you.”

“Thank you.”

He plated your food before pulling out a chair which you thought was for you until he sat down. He patted his knees inviting you to sit on him instead.

“Are you sure..?” Came out your hesitant voice.

“Come on.” He said simply with a small smile on the corner of his lips.

You missed the proximity. You know he did too. Stack is the definition of touchy feely person. You will never find yourself close to him without him finding one way or another to touch you. Nothing sexual. He just constantly needs to touch you. You weren’t complaining.

You sat there in silence. Enjoying each other’s presence. You couldn’t help the sounds coming from your mouth. The food was

“You gonna have to slow down on those sounds. I know the foods not that good.”

“But it is though. What did you put in it?”

“Just some of my love and a pinch of salt to taste.”

“Corny.” You said flicking his ear slightly. Both sharing a laugh after.

“Stack, I’m really sorry about going ghost I-“

“Shh, we can talk about it tomorrow. I’m not going anywhere, you hear me? For now I just want you to enjoy your meal and rest some more. We gon’ talk about everything tomorrow.” With that he placed a kiss on your forehead. One on each cheek. On your nose before finally landing on your lips.

Yeah, you can’t comprehend how you were able to make it through the past few days without his lips on yours.

The kiss got hungrier. Messier. Each one pouring their all in the kiss. Hand’s roaming all over. Gropping, kneading, massaging the flesh.

As his hands found your breast and left a squeeze you couldn’t help but moan in his mouth. The vibration shooting straight to his member.

Breaking the kiss for air, your lips found themselves leaving open mouth kisses on his neck, sucking licking. Trailing up to his ears as your hands simultaneously found themselves going south, straight in his pants.

At the contact, his thighs jolted as your soft hands found him.

Your fingers found themselves playing with the his bulbous head. Spraying the already present thick liquid all over it. His thick leg’s spread apart to give you more access.

By now you, were straddling only one of his thick thighs. Rotating your hips chasing that sweet friction. You were definitely high off the pleasure.

Retracting the hand that was in his pants, you brought it up to your lips, licking around the digit. Sucking it like honey. He watched intently. Eyes narrowing lightly.

He took the finger that was in your mouth, coated with your saliva, and put it in his own mouth.

You proceeded to get on your knees ready to present him your excuses the only way you knew for now and show him how much you missed him.

“Wait, wait, what’re you doing?”

“What it look like?-”

“Nah baby, you don’t gotta do none of that.”

It wasn’t rare for you to use sex as a means to escape whatever mess going on in your head. Stack knew that. He never wanted you to feel like you were obligated to do anything.

“I want to. Please.”

“You sure?”

“Mhhm” You said eagerly. Mouth already salivating at the thought of what was about to happen.

Who was he to stop you. Sure he didn’t want you to feel like you had to do any of that but also if you wanted to he wasn’t going to stop you. Lord knows his body missed you bad.

One things for sure, it was going to be a long night.

Don’t forget to comment and reblog. Thank you for reading! 💋

[cressidagrey]

Building Blocks

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Felicity Leong-Piastri (Original Character)

Summary: How to parent a genius: A guide by Oscar Piastri.

Notes: Because I felt like it was very mean to just give you "half" a new piece of writing, with an edited version, here you have some fluff!

(divider thanks to @saradika-graphics )

Oscar had long since accepted that he was raising a genius.

It wasn’t the kind of genius that screamed for attention or rattled off multiplication tables at age two (though she could, and did, if she was annoyed enough). No, Bee’s genius was different—patient, precise, methodical in a way that sometimes made Oscar forget she was still learning how to tie her shoes consistently.

At the moment, she was halfway through assembling the LEGO® Technic Ferrari Daytona SP3—3,778 pieces, ages 18+, and she was building it upside down just for fun.

Oscar had found it complicated enough to need a YouTube tutorial and was now trying to attach one very specific connector piece. It was not going well.

“Papa,” Bee said gently, not even looking up from her own section, “that axle doesn’t go there. It’s a two-length, and you’re using a three. That’s why the gearbox won’t sit flat.”

Oscar blinked. “How do you see that?”

She shrugged. “I counted the ridges.”

Of course she had.

He changed the piece, and—miraculously—it clicked into place.

They were seated on the living room rug, surrounded by plastic trays of sorted bricks and half-finished subassemblies. 

Oscar had tried giving her a kid’s set once this year. Something with animals. She’d built it in seven minutes, asked him if it was a prank, and requested the Lamborghini Sián FKP 37 next.

He looked at her now—curled over her build instructions, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration, tiny fingers moving with frightening efficiency—and wondered, not for the first time:

How do you race a kid like this?

Not race in the literal sense.

 Race in the life sense.

How do you raise someone who could probably code her way into a Mars rover before she loses her first tooth?

 How do you parent brilliance?

Oscar loved her completely. That part was easy.

 But raising her… it sometimes felt like trying to build IKEA furniture with the instructions written in Latin while she translated them into quantum theory beside you.

When Bee was two, he’d brought home a simple Lego castle. The 5+ kind. Pink turrets. Smiling bricks. It had taken her twenty-four minutes. No instructions. One correction.

They moved to the 10+ sets after that. Then 12+. 16+.

Now they didn’t bother with age labels. If it didn’t come with multiple gear assemblies and at least two bags of axles, she got bored.

He leaned back, stretching out his legs as she sorted bricks with the focus of someone solving a global crisis. Her curls were pulled back in a lopsided ponytail, and she was humming to herself—some hybrid of Beethoven and the Paw Patrol theme. A mix of classical and chaos. Just like her.

And Oscar found himself smiling.

 “Do you think you’ll want to build real cars one day?”

Bee paused. Thought. “Maybe. Maybe I’ll restore cars like Mama does. I like knowing why something works. Why people make the choices they do.” She looked up at him. “I like your choices.”

Oscar’s heart stuttered in his chest.

“You do?”

She nodded. “You always come home. Even when you go far.”

He swallowed. 

Bee smiled, then reached for another piece, her tiny hands precise. “Mama said you have to go race soon.”

“Yeah. In Japan.”

She nodded. “Don’t forget my shirt.”

Oscar smiled, eyes crinkling. “Never.”

They worked in silence for a while. The only sounds were the click of Lego pieces and the distant hum of the dishwasher.

Oscar watched her move—steady, focused, brilliant. She didn’t fidget. Didn’t question herself. She just knew what she wanted to build and made it happen.

He was raising a genius.

 And not just the kind with facts in her head—though there were plenty. She had empathy. Precision. Curiosity.

And she scared the hell out of him.

 In the best way.

The thing was, Bee wasn’t just smart. Lots of kids were smart. Bee was something else entirely. Curious in a way that never stopped. Observant in ways that made you feel like she could see under your skin if she tilted her head right.

She didn’t just memorize—she understood.

She asked how DRS worked when she was two and followed up with, “But doesn’t that affect battery deployment?”

She once looked at telemetry on Oscar’s laptop and said, “Why are you lifting before Turn 9 now?” and then told him why when he didn’t answer fast enough.

And somehow, she still wanted him to sit beside her while she built things. Still curled up under his arm during movie night. Still called him Papa like it was magic.

Oscar ran a hand through his hair, watching her snap together a section of bricks like she'd been born doing it.

“How’d you get so smart?” he asked softly.

Bee didn’t even pause. “Because you and Mama never make me feel weird for asking questions.”

Oscar blinked. His throat tightened.

“You don’t get mad when I want to read the building manual instead of the storybook,�� she continued, turning the model gently to check the incline. “And Mama says it’s okay to love logic and glitter.”

Oscar nodded slowly, words caught somewhere between pride and awe.

He watched her now, slotting in a gear mechanism with tiny fingers and utter focus, her brow furrowed like a seasoned engineer.

How do you raise a kid who’s already looking three steps ahead?

Who watches a race and times pit stops with a stopwatch app she downloaded herself?

 Who reads two books a week and corrects the science in children's cartoons?

You don’t try to match her, Oscar thought.

You just show up.

You sit on the floor and sort the bricks. You listen when she talks about dolphins and binary code in the same breath. You answer every question, no matter how bizarre. You fold the shirts. You build the drawer. You take her seriously, because she always takes you seriously.

“Papa?”

Oscar looked up. “Yeah?”

Bee held up a completed axle assembly, expression bright. “Do you want to click this piece into place?”

He smiled. “Will you judge me if I get it wrong again?”

“Only a little.”

“Deal.”

He snapped the piece in. She double-checked it, nodded solemnly, and handed him the next one.

Oscar didn’t know how to raise a genius.

But he was learning how to build with one.

 Moment by moment.

 Brick by brick.

[changisworld]

“You’ll like it,trust me”

word count:3,301

summary:Your boyfriend, Hyunjin, knows how reactive you are to touches, especially on your clit. As he is drawing a certain frame of your pussy from a homemade sex tape you both made, he can’t help but admire the still image, but a thought crosses his mind. He can’t help but realise his fingers are a tiny bit clumsy sometimes on your clit, never touching just your clit, & this is when he gets his bright idea to use something… more precise to see if it will make a difference.

18+, MDNI! Smut below the cut.

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here

->SMUT WARNINGS: Soft dom Hyunjin, overstimulation, squirting, multiple orgasms, use of a paintbrush, fingering, spit, cum tasting, oral but its brief, praise, Hyune is just a cutie, mention of safe word but not used, begging, dacryphilia, PIV, creampie, aftercare is extremely brief but more happens off screen, this is literally 99% smut:3

Hyunjin is currently sitting in the living room, sitting in front of his canvas, using his favourite water colour paints that he is holding in his left hand as he dips his paint brush in the small glass of water, the colour a dark, musky bluey, grey colour.

He has his inspiration photo on his phone screen, balanced up on the small ledge of the wooden frame the thing he is painting on, the photo being a photo of your pussy.

In his eyes, it's not even a sexual thing, he just thinks it's so beautiful & he can't help but admire it, so why wouldn't he want to paint it for the millionth time?

He lightly swatches a violet colour & starts to paint your hood & clitoris with a careful hand, not even focusing to look at the photo anymore since he has it memorised better than how to spell his own name.

His white bristled paintbrush coated in the very faint colour glides over the canvas, he pauses for a second as he gets an idea that he thinks is worth a million dollars.

He looks down at the photo on his phone, your vagina still plastered on the screen & he uses the kitchen paper to dry the brush, the remnants of the paint leaving the brush & he doesn't pack anything away, leaving the living room with his mini station in a mess as he giddily walks to your shared bedroom.

He sees you just sitting on the bed with your back against the pillows & headboard as you're just reading a magazine you bought that day & Hyunjin plops himself on top of you, forcing you to put your magazine to the side of you & Hyunjin settles between your legs, your chests connecting over all of your clothes & he starts pecking your lips & cheeks.

"What's made you so clingy all of a sudden?" you ask, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as his lips coated with a layer of lip balm sticking to each area he kisses & he pauses to look at you, pouting.

"I'm always clingy! You can't blame me, wanna be stuck to you" he replies, his voice soft as he now switches to shuffling down just enough so he can shove his face in your tits, covered by your shirt & just lays there as he reaches down to caress your thigh.

"I thought of something I wanna try, I think it will be good, can you lemme try?" he asks, his voice still soft as he buries his chin in your chest, looking up at you at a slightly uncomfortable angle.

"Who am I to stop you, you can try anything you wanna do, what is it you're wanting to try anyways?" you respond, stroking his long fluffy hair & twirling your index finger through his soft locks & Hyunjin can't help but chuckle as he stands up again.

"I'll be right back, its a surprise but I need you to want it too since I'll be doing it to you, take your.. my sweatpants off & wait here" he cheers as he runs back to his DIY art station & grabbing a long, thin & soft bristled paint brush that he actually hasn't had the chance to use yet, before returning to you & to his happiness, you've done what he said & you're now just left on the bed wearing your plain cotton panties & your shirt.

"Hyune, why are you getting me half naked with one random paint brush in your hand & no paint?" you joke as you sit up & cross your legs & he giggles at you as he sits down on the bed as he doesn't really respond right away & instead lies you down.

"I was painting you earlier & I was painting your pretty clit & I came up with the idea to try.. paint yourself with your juices? that sounds cringe but trust me! You're so sensitive it will feel soooo good, it might even be better than my fingers since I can be more direct." he whines, a tinge of embarrassment in his voice from actually saying this all out loud & when you look at his face & realise he's being serious, you can't help but start laughing.

"The look on your face when you're nervous is adorable, Sure, we can try, how do we do it?" you ask & he gives you his cheeky, cunning smirk. "Just take your underwear off & I'ma play with your little clit n try make you cum & then I can put it on my painting later, makes it even more personal, the idea just turns me on." he responds, his cheeks blushing as he helps you pull your underwear off anyway.

You nod your head & reach behind you & reposition the pillow & you sit it comfortably beneath your head & you're quick to open your legs for him, completely bare now except for the shirt you've kept on.

Hyunjin lays on his stomach between your legs, his legs swinging ack & forth as he litters a few kisses on each thigh, warming you up before he moves his hand that is holding the paint brush & he puts it in his mouth, transferring his spit onto the small hairs to make it feel that tiny bit softer for you before he brings it to your folds, before painfully slowly parting them.

You twitch beneath the brush, the sensation being so so different to anything you've ever felt, but different is good in your eyes & this proved your quote as true.

He drags the brush up & down your folds, gathering your juices & painting them across your entire pussy, the full area sticky with arousal. "How does it feel baby?" he questions, his eyes looking up at you as he doesn't stop his action, wanting to see your face on how you're reacting.

"Feels weird, but I really like it, don't stop" you murmur, basking in the feeling, relaxing as you melt into the bed. "Wasn't planning on it, gonna put it on your clit now, mkay? tell me how you feel" he purrs as the brush drags from your hole all the way up to your clit before he slowly starts swirling the thin, soft & now wet brush around your clit in small circles & you buck your hips & at the same time your breath gets caught in your throat.

"Shit, feels so- dunno, good" you rasp, your fingers gripping onto the pillow that tiny bit extra as you get used to the sensation & Hyunjin chuckles from where he is.

He twists the brush in his fingers & the bristles fully engulf your clit & your legs threaten to close around him, but he is quick to shut that down by stopping his hand to speak. "Don't shut your legs, just wanna be good to you so let me" he softly murmurs before resuming his motion, pulling back your pussy so now your clit is completely exposed & he can visibly see it pulsating.

He switches from twisting the brush in his fingertips to then circling your clit with the brush before dragging it down your folds for a few seconds just to not let you think he's forgetting about that area entirely before repeating the process & the noises from your throat are getting a lot more frequent & getting louder every second.

Little 'fuck's', 'shit's' & repeating his name over & over is all you're really saying, the sensation being mind numbing & you mentally slap yourself for never thinking of this idea on your own.

Hyunjin can see your cunt pulsating & clenching around nothing & Hyunjin bites his lip in anticipation. "You gonna cum, hmm? Can see you gushing n clenching" he teases, before continuing "Just let go, wanna hear n see you enjoy yourself, so pretty f'me."

"Yea, g'na cum, don't stop, please Jinnie" you whimper, back arching off the bed as you force your legs to stay open upon Hyunjins earlier request, your eyes scrunched closed & he just smiles at your words & starts kissing your inner thighs, not changing or disrupting his rhythm at all & your orgasm shoots up your spine as your legs shake around him & your toes curl.

"Good girl, look so pretty when you cum" he murmurs, his tone soft as he moves his face to now kiss over your raw clit, moving the brush back down to your folds & hole, the brush tracing your leaking hole which makes you try hump against it, not wanting to be teased even though you're only just coming down from your orgasm.

"W-was good" you whimper, your hand reaching down to cup his cheek as you rest your weight on the other am you're using to sit up with but your arm gives out & you flop back down when he spits down onto your pussy before sucking it back up, slurping your clit in his puffy lips as he looks up at you & you can feel him smirking against you.

He lets go of your clit with a small 'pop' noise & he groans. "Taste so good, you can handle one more, I'm having too much fun" He states, lust in his voice as he moves his frame so he's sitting at the side of you as he drags the brush back up to your clit & resumes his previous action but at a slower pace, not wanting to overstimulate you too much.. not at the moment anyways.

"S-sensitive Hyune, want a break" you whimper as he shuffles upwards so he is pretty much face level with you & you can smell the faint scent of his expensive cologne that you love so much & he just smiles at you.

"You can take it, you know the safe word if it's too much, remind me what it is please angel" he states, so confident in what he is saying he has a slightly sassy tone to it.

"F-fluff- Ahh, right there!" you whine & you buck your hips into the brush & Hyunjin leans down to kiss you, ignoring the uncomfortable angle of his hand but ignores it, instead, letting himself sink into the feeling & taste of your tongue, groaning into your lips.

He leans back just enough so your lips disconnect & he squishes your cheeks together to the point your lips part & he takes this chance to spit into your mouth, a small tinge of your own taste that he didn't already transfer into your mouth during the kiss being evident & you immediately swallow it & he blushes even more.

"So gorgeous, y'know that? So perfect for me, Love you so much" he conveys as he sits back on the back of his legs & pulls your leg over his lap, giving him better access & then reaches down to use his other hand to start teasing your dripping hole & you wince.

"Put em inside, want them Jinnie" you squeak & he wants to try tease you, but he has pretty much no self control left & he listens to your request instantly, as if he is being controlled by his very own siren.

He slips not just one but two fingers into you & his long, slender fingers find your aroused G-spot the second they slip inside, his knuckles being the only part that is visible as he starts scissoring them in & out of you at a semi quick pace, slowly picking up the speed as he also picks up the pace with the paint brush & your legs can't help but spasm.

"Hyunjin, w-wanna cum, lemme cum" you whine, your hips jerking almost as quick as his fingers are moving, dying for absolutely everything he can give you. "Cum then y/n, I wouldn't ever stop you, gimme it" he replies, his voice smug.

You can feel it bubbling up in your tummy, but you know it's not like the orgasm you had just a couple of minutes prior. "G- gonna squirt Jin, d-don't" you whimper, not wanting to squirt because your brain is already mush & it's always a hundred times stronger but that doesn't deter him at all, if anything, it pushes him to keep doing it a million times more.

"I know it's stronger, want you to be spent, it's so hot gimme it, please please, cmon angel please" he pleads with you & the second you hear how desperate he is for it, you can't not give him what he wants especially when he's being so good for you.

Your orgasm squirts out of you as you squeal, spraying onto the bed, Hyunjins knuckles & the entire paint brush, he is forced to pull his fingers out of you with how much you're constricting around him & he takes the time to suckle on his fingers, groaning at your taste as his eyes roll at the second it hits his taste buds.

"That's it, that's a big one isn't it" he smirks, his voice teasing as he encourages you, in awe at the sight of you as he slowly changes the angle of his body so he's back to sitting beside you again, watching you come down from your even more intense orgasm.

You are left on the bed panting, your eyes watering & a tear or two stained into your cheeks, the overstimulation burning so good & Hyunjin throws the paint brush to the side & leans down to kiss you, his hand softly playing with your tit over your shirt & your body can't decide if it wants more of his touches or if it wants to lean away from it.

"Do you think you can handle my cock jagi? Don't stress if not" he says softly, wiping the tears from your face.

"Wanna make you c-cum, can handle it" you respond & you feel as if your skin is on fire with his touch on your face, it's so simple but you can feel the love radiating from it.

"Just say your safe word if it's too much, don't want you completely worn out, I know I've taken a lot from you, love you endlessly" he murmurs & you want to cry even more tears but not from overstimulation but from how cared for you feel.

Hyunjin helps shuffle you from the now wet spot on the bed on the bed so you're now laying on your stomach on the other half of the bed & you take it upon yourself to raise your ass for him but he pushes on your lower back until you fall & you're laying flat on the bed & you can hear him stripping his own clothes from his body & he straddles the top of your thighs & you can hear the 'shlick' noises coming from him giving himself a few jerks & you can swear you feel beads of precum drip onto your ass before he aligns himself up with your hole, before pressing the tip into your hole, begging for attention.

Hyunjin fucks his tip in & out of you for a few moments, his eyes unable to get enough with the way your seeping opening is hugging his cock so tightly before he decides he can't wait any longer & fully pushes in & you both let out a groan at the same time.

"So tight all the time, definitely not gonna last long but I'll try hold out" he pants, forcing himself to try stay still so he doesn't fuck into you too fast, but you on the other hand, have grown far too impatient to wait to adjust, your wetness is far more than enough in your humble opinion & you start trying to fuck yourself on him, but you don't get very far & you grow frustrated.

"Hyune, please!" you whimper but he can't even bring himself to laugh at your attempt, far too horny to hold himself back & he starts fucking into you & you pretty much instantly start clenching around him as you let out loud squeaks & raspy moans, Hyunjin mirroring your sounds as you both feel his cock pushing against your cervix, the painful pleasure making you drool into the duvet you're laying on.

"So-so good Hyune, to-so deep" you squeal as he rolls his hips in a slightly but extremely evident angle, making you see stars & you can't help but start wriggling beneath him, feeling another orgasm already brewing inside you.

"S-stop clenching around me so much, g-gonna cum" he whimpers, his voice shaky as his eyes are glued to the way your cunt is stretching open for him & he lets a glob of spit land on your tightest hole just to watch you squirm, trying to take his mind off how close he is to cumming.

"Gunna pull out n cum on your p-pussy n will paint it over y-your folds, so fucking tight" he continues on as he leans forward so his back is connecting with your chest, but his pace doesn't falter.

He pushes the side of your head so you're no longer pressed face down & now facing him & you both meet half way & you both share a messy kiss, your tongues mostly around each others mouths & not in each others mouths, almost tasting each others sounds as those along with the squelching noises fill the entire room & no doubt the rest of the house.

"G-y/nn I'm gonna cum, can't stop" he almost fully squeals as he pulls out & turns you over with one arm, the other arm jerking himself off & the second you're lying on your back, he shoots multiple ropes of warm cum on your lower tummy, not in the right mind to be even slightly apologetic at the fact that your shirt is now gonna be stained with cum.

You can't help but whimper & moan along with Hyunjin as he orgasms, his gorgeous face is just too much for you to handle & too gorgeous to be mad at, even if he is currently messing on your clothes.

Hyunjin is left panting above you & you both try catch your breath. Hyunjin grabs the glass of water you have on your bedside unit & helps feed you it & you finish the remainder of the water before he puts the cup away.

You use the rest of your strength to try sit up to take you both to the shower but he decides against it & stops you & puts you back in the position you were just in as he reaches to grab the still wet paint brush.

"I didn't make you cum again & I said I'd.. what was it? I'd 'paint you with cum' & I don't lie, just one more." he purrs, his voice still shaky from lack of breath as he daps some of the cum off your shirt with the brush before dragging it across your clit, making you cry out, you have only just clocked onto how long of a night this is going to be.

->Anon list & taglist are open!

@jisungml

[moon-ttokki-x]

Hey, how are you? May I ask for stray kids 9th member being a poliglot?

this was a cool request, ngl . . . i didn't do a traditional fic bc i like this format a lot, and plus, it's cuter that way >< also can we just appreciate the pretty purple theme guys

skz x 9th member!reader who can speak multiple languages

pairing: ot8!skz x 9th member polyglot!reader

summary: skz with a 9th member who is a polyglot.

genre: extremely fluffy, very cute stuff, pretty soft, some member x reader stuff, chaotic skz, naughty minho and maknaes, leader chan agenda, romantic hyune, reader who can read, write, and speak multiple different languages

a/n: interesting request . . . divider by @chachachannah

skz masterlist

Chan who wants you to teach him how to say lovely little phrases like 'i love you' and 'you are the light of my life' in different languages, asking you cutely with the biggest, cheesiest grin on his face. He goes around saying them to the other members, who don't understand what language he's talking in, and ignore him. But it doesn't matter, because now he feels like he has a little part of you with him wherever he goes. Is always fascinated as he watches you change languages in the blink of an eye. Makes a sweet sentence in one of your languages his bubble caption.

Minho who, on the other hand, asks you to teach him the dirtiest, filthiest phrases you can think of. They're too graphic to be put here, but some of the milder phrases include 'fuck you' and 'i hope you swallow spiders in your sleep'. Like Chan, he also goes around telling the members these sentences and grins the biggest you've ever seen because now he can swear without being caught. Sometimes does it on stage too, but really quietly just in case there's a couple Stays who actually understand what he's saying.

Changbin who watches in awe as you seamlessly transition between being on the phone, writing things down, and chatting with someone all at once while swapping languages. His head hurts after and he watches you quietly as you go about your usual business, not quite understanding how you do it. He learnt English with some a lot of difficulty, so he's stupefied by the fact that you've learnt not one but multiple languages, and can speak them all fluently. Always asking what you said after you switch back to a language he can understand.

Hyunjin who thinks up the cutest, sweetest, most romantic phrases on a whim, and after he asks how to say them in a language. So you tell him, thinking he's just curious. A few weeks later, you find a painting in your bedroom, a vase of your birth flowers and one of the phrases painted delicately in black across the bottom. He always asks what certain words mean, and asks you to translate random sentences. Has the biggest shine in his eyes as you sit down with him and tell him what all of the words mean, and how to say them. Stumbles through pronunciation but it's cute, so you kiss him as a reward.

Han who also asks what certain words mean, but more often than not, has a translating app open on his phone so he can find out for himself. Spends hours in secret trying to learn sentences by himself, and records himself saying the lines so he can check if he's saying them correctly. Like Changbin, is fascinated when you can switch languages just like that. Once said a rude phrase in front of his hyungs and got scolded because Chan actually understood what it meant (somehow). Got sentenced to 25 pushups as a punishment and never did it again.

Felix who buys workbooks and installs language-learning apps in a bid to try and communicate with you in your languages. Ends up spending over $400 just to spend hours upon hours studying them, much like he did when he was learning Korean. Doesn't notice when you sit down next to him and stroke his hair, he's so focused on learning your languages. Wants to communicate with you in every way he can. Refuses to talk to you in Korean or English until he gets fluent in at least two of your languages, and asks for kisses and hugs when he understands what you're saying to him.

Seungmin who sits in quiet fascination as you write in one language and talk on the phone in another. Isn't as forward in telling you that he wants to learn some of your languages, but definitely goes online and does his own research. Likes looking up the origins of each language and how the words were formed. Finds himself repeating little phrases he'd caught you saying that morning or the night before. Will never admit that he finds it fascinating that you can talk, read, and write in different languages, but nods and listens when you tell him all about it anyway, admiring the passion in your eyes with a warm heart.

Jeongin who learns weird phrases to catch you off guard, because he loves the speechless look on your face when you hear them. Is too shy to ask you outright to teach him your languages but also does research so he can learn himself. Recites off lines to the members and forces them to sit and listen so he can say them to you without messing up. Ends up wasting a lot of practice time, but he doesn't really care. Learns to write keywords and cute little sentences, and writes them in the margins of your notebooks to surprise you. Doodles love hearts and stars around each phrase.

a/n: very cute

[kunimimii]

Haikyuu Boys Ass or Boobs? - Cum on those pretty titties

Content warnings: Light bondage, medium smut including: fingering and grinding, mentions of hentai, biting, breast cancer, multiple orgasms

WC: 475

A/N: First post.. kinda nervous.. anyway I didn't write much smut for Kenma, but I'm thinking of making a part two or a similar post with the same idea. I think I'll make more of these with different HQ boys

Kenma was a boobs guy. Undoubtedly. You didn’t even have to ask him, you could tell by the way his eyes would be fixed on your chest whenever you wore a slightly low cut top. Or by the way he would give you his merch a size or two too small so the fabric would stretch over your pretty tits. Or maybe even by the way he’d insist on checking you over for lumps and bumps, on the grounds that, “you could have breast cancer,” and “he just wants to be safe.”

He’d constantly be touching them as well, whenever he could, if he wasn’t sleeping or playing a game, he’d be on top of you, resting his head between the valley of your breasts, delicately caressing them with his fingers. 

Sometimes he’d even go as far as biting and suckling on them, dragging the flat of his tongue over the delicious swell of your chest, grazing his teeth over your pert, hardened nipples. 

-

“Ke- ahh! Kenma! No more..”

You beg breathlessly, squirming against the bed. He gave only a small ‘huh?’ through his pants, golden eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning again to the lower half of your body.

Saying that your entire body ached was the understatement of the year. Because it ached. For hours now, Kenma had three fingers knuckle deep pumping in and out of your cunt whilst he sucked fervently on your bruised breasts, occasionally grinding his hips on your thigh with a drawn out whine.

Your wrists were bound above your head with Kenma's belt, which he had taken off in a hurry as soon as he got home, finding you asleep on his bed. He had just come back from a convention he went to visit with a couple of his friends, and because of delays and other various issues, he was forced to be away from you for much longer than he liked to be. 

Important qualities of Kenma were: one. He wasn’t a fan of jerking himself off, and two, hentai made him lose his mind.

What was hidden in every corner of the convention? Big boobed anime girls.

So upon his unexpected arrival, you woke up with your wrists tied to the slatted headboard, and your boyfriend humping the side of your leg. 

Fast forward three orgasms to now, he was refusing to stop, or let up just the smallest bit.

“Baby..” You plead with a hoarse voice, jerking your head to displace the stray hairs blocking your vision.

“Yeah?” His tone was flat as he answered, grinding slower against your thigh.

“No more!” 

He finally looked up at you, a mixture of drool and both of your cum smeared around his pink lips. After a moment of thought, he spoke.

“Let me cum on your tits and I’ll be satisfied. Please baby.”

Do not post, edit, translate or plagiarize my work on or off tumblr. I encourage taking inspiration and ideas.

[applejuicinator]

The LADS men and your jealousy

Word count: 4.2K

A/N: This is a whole bunch of word vomit that I have compiled in about five hours, so I haven’t properly looked through it. Just needed to post something, make sure I keep writing so I don’t get all lazy.

TW: Slight NSWF themes – very subtle. Rafayel being engrossed in his work, he neglects you a little bit, but he makes up for it, he loves you to the ends of the earth.

****************************************************

Green isn’t your best colour

Whilst jealousy isn’t something completely unknown to you, the situation in front of you seemed to stir an unbridled fury deep within your gut.

🐡 Rafayel 🐡

To say that you and Rafayel never fought would be a big fat lie.

You argued about who spent the most time getting ready in the morning, it was definitely him and his perfectly ‘messy’ locks by the way, or who spent more money on who… which was also probably him. The man drove a Mercedes Benz Gran turismo, he wasn’t letting you spend a single damn penny no matter how much you protested. You had to admit, it did make your heart flutter and legs quiver when he whipped out his gold card like it was something mundane. The top few buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, lazy smirk and arm resting over the back of his seat.

‘My wife is my life” He would say whilst staring into your eyes like you had hung the stars in the sky, until you eventually gave in and he’d kiss the tip of your nose as if to seal the deal.

All this to say, you argued, but not about things that deeply lingered or at the expense of the sanctity of your relationship. You both made sure that problems were aired the moment they began to grow, nip them in the bud cleanly and swiftly.

But this damn upcoming exhibition had grown into something monstrous, the roots clawing at your ankles with long spindly tendrils, grounding you in the most exasperated uncertainty you had ever experienced. And you fought wanderers for a living.

The show was all he thought about.

Rafayel being all-consumed by his art wasn’t anything new or surprising, sometimes when he was truly inspired, normally by you, he’d spend hours relentlessly hunched over a canvas watching the weight of his brush strokes until they were ‘perfect.’ But that was when it was personal, the art was for his pleasure, seeing beauty translated into colours and soft hues. Multiple portraits, every single one in a different medium, context or style, depicted you. Some were just of your eyes and the depth of your adoration for him, some of you posing or modelling, some of you in the mundanity of life.

You drove his paintbrush, he said as much when night tipped the scales and you both laid in a tangled mess, bedsheets cocooning you from the harshness that reality brought with it. He whispered love and adoration into the crown of your head, kissing your temples with keen devotion.

He normally never gave much thought to gallery shows if it didn’t involve you, because you were his muse. Who wanted to portray art without feeling.

When he was forced to put on shows to appease rich donors and clients he actively went out of his way to cause as much shit as he could within reason. It’s the reason why Thomas was going prematurely bald.

However, there was another reason why this exhibition felt different, arguably the reason that was weighing heavily on your mind the most.

Rafayel was an ardent fan of one of the other artists collaborating. She was a beautiful, older woman who moved like calm ripples on normally still water. She was the embodiment of depth, grace, and elegance. Her works centred on fluidity and liquid, made only with water colours. Rafayel even had a piece of her art in his studio, the only one permitted which he hadn’t painted, it was an incredible compliment to her skill.

When you had first laid eyes upon her, walking through the communal art space for the exhibition, you experienced a cold flush. It’s like when you make a mistake, and a chilly realisation flushes through your veins to the tips of your fingers. Something felt wrong.

Jealously wasn’t something new to either of you, mostly it was just empty banter though, you know the type - ‘cutie he was trying for your number,’ or ‘Rafayel she wasn’t after just an autograph you know.’

Rafayel had lots of women who he was friends or acquaintances with, after all he did have a life before you, filled to the brim of the unknown. But it never bothered you before, in fact it was actually lovely to see that your husband was a genuinely accepting and open person who people were drawn to. But this artist itched at your skin, unease crawling up your spine whenever she was near.

She was so kind and warm, which made you feel ten times worse.

The exhibition wasn’t forever; you could endure you told yourself.

But as month three rolled round, the preparation was nowhere near over and your patience was beginning to crumble like bitter ash.

You knocked softly on the door to Rafayel’s private studio, ears straining to hear a response or if there was any movement inside. You couldn’t hear his light teasing tone or the soft padding of feet running to the door, so you assumed he was at the exhibition space again.

You could count on one hand the number of times your husband had been home before 9pm for the whole month. He was fast to respond to your texts and phone calls, his jovial voice telling you all about what he was doing and how he was discussing more subliminal art theory with Rachel.

You appreciated art, you knew how beautiful it was and what messages a piece was trying to convey. But you didn’t understand it in the same way that an artist might. A fact that you weren’t wary of before now.

The TV hummed in the background, a show about the upcoming exhibition sounding like nothing but static in your ears. The house that usually smelled like a weird mixture of your scented candles and paint, laughter and low-fi playing as you both chattered away, was instead empty.

You glanced down at your phone, finger hovering above his name, you could call him and ask him to come home. You could sit him down, tell him how you feel, how this was starting to take a toll on you, how you felt a cold snap whenever Rachel ruffled his hair.

An urge to see him in person stopped you, it wasn’t often you bothered him at night because that’s when his productivity was best, but the anxiety was eating away at you tonight.

Thoughts flitted through your mind like a fast-paced movie reel, gathering your keys, you packed a few snacks and the meal that had gone cold before hopping into your car and making the short journey to the gallery. It wasn’t long before you were calling his name into the empty space, still bare, the floor covered in positioning tape to map out the art pieces and theming.

The art space was hidden upstairs away from prying eyes, people went meandering off into restricted zones too often at these events, so the artists had a dedicated space for relaxing and touch ups for their work.

You called again as your jogged up the steps, the bag holding his pick-me ups jostling against your legs. At the end of the day, above all of this jealousy and bitterness, you were more concerned for Rafayel’s health. He was overworking himself, despite how happy he sounded, the puffiness and dark circles to his eyes only seemed to get worse with each passing day.

“Rafayel! You there?” You called out again, heading towards the door where you could faintly hear muffled music.

“In here baby!” Your heart melted at just the sound of his voice; you missed him dearly. When was the last time the two of you just laid on the couch watching a shitty movie, his beautiful light tenor critiquing every ridiculous discrepancy or loophole, you loved it, watching him get so animated. No one made you laugh like him.

The feelings of love and hope shattered when you entered the art room, holding the bag high, smile on your face as you were about announce how amazing you were for bringing him food like a personal chef. Instead, your smile immediately dropped, bag of food loosely hanging by your side.

He didn’t even turn around to greet you, back to you as you watched Rachel rest her head on his shoulder. They were looking at the gargantuan painting pinned to the back wall, the canvas taking up the whole height and width of the space.

It was a masterpiece.

It depicted a luscious underwater scene, vibrant colours and corals encompassing old derelict architecture, creatures of all kinds flourishing in the absence of humans. The intricacies were breathtaking even to your untrained eye, multiple mediums and techniques rendering the painting almost 3D, the textured surface appearing like moving water.

Something so harmonious, so genius, should have struck at your heart, made you feel emotion and intrigue about the painting. However, all you could feel is the guttural sadness as Rachel lifted her head from your husbands toned shoulder. She was only getting a better feel for the art, trying to see it from a different angle, but it was intimate. The contact was crossing an invisible boundary, one that was obvious to you. But obviously wasn’t to Rafayel. And. Rachel.

Fuck, Rafayel and Rachel. Their names even sounded cute together. What sort of shit is that.

Thomas was in the adjoining office, you heard him talking loudly, so they hadn’t been all alone. Your fingernails dug deep into the skin of your palm, the pain bringing back a sliver of reality.

Rafayel looked over his shoulder finally, nodding to himself in pride. He looked so happy, eyes crinkling when he looked at you, gaze meeting yours.

But you just couldn’t do it. You should be so proud of him, look at the masterpiece he had created, his time and dedication spawning something so ethereal it looked as though you could reach in and feel the cold depths of the ocean.

Feelings swarmed your thoughts, no doubt translating to your face, because Rafayel was soon stood in front of you, a worried scrunch to his cute brows. His hands, still covered in dried paint, a mish mash of blues and whites, cupped your cheeks. His thumbs smoothed over your skin comfortingly; it made bile rise at the back of your throat.

“Baby?” He asked again, and you could see Rachel turn to look too, Rafayel’s worried tone catching her attention.

No no no. You didn’t want her, exquisite, charming Rachel to see you like this, a bitter wife. You began questioning how you looked, still in comfy sweats and hair tousled from lounging in bed. Hanging your head low, as if that would make you disappear from her view, you pushed the bag of food to his chest. He looked down at it flabbergasted, hands suddenly scrambling at the handle, so it didn’t fall.

“Here’s dinner, five hours late and cold, thanks for telling me”

In retrospect, without adoration clouding your judgment, it wasn’t really okay that Rafayel was allowing another woman to lay her head on his shoulder, no matter how close they were, without discussing it with you first. You supposed you’d never had a conversation about lines and boundaries in your relationship, this situation was new to you.

Rafayel looked between you and the bag bewildered, his mind trying to process what was happening, what had he missed. Rising panic swelled in his chest as he watched you turn on your heel and slam the door behind you, your footsteps fading quickly as though you were rushing.

“Is everything okay?” Rachel asked as a tender hand came to rest on his shoulder, but he didn’t hear or even notice it.

He looked inside the bag, his favourite bottles of pop and cute candies bundled together, and a container filled with some sort of veggie filled stew. You had brought him a care package, something so loving would usually make him feel so blessed, but your pained expression was stuck in his mind on loop.

He glanced at the clock on the wall, the hand way past 11pm.

“Oh fuck fuck fuck”

He pictured you sat at home, food in front of you, fingers tapping at the table and eyes shifting to the wall clock.

He pulled his phone out, messages with your name popping up, time stamps showing how long you’d been waiting.

17:05

‘Sweetheart I’m making stew! It’s cold and you’re going to make yourself sick by not eating anything proper’

18:17

‘You are coming home tonight??????’

19:42

‘I’m assuming you’ll still be at the gallery. I’ll package this up for you to eat later’

19:55

‘Love you lots and lots!!!!! Xx’

“I’ve… I need to go” He murmured, feet hitting the floor loudly as he chased after you, jumping down the last two steps.

You slammed the car door shut, not caring if it rattled the expensive vintage frame, his aftershave thick and heavy was embedded in the leather seats. If you closed your eyes, you could picture him next to you, surrounded by his warmth.

Sitting there, in the dark, staring at nothing in particular, you began to cry.

It wasn’t silent or pretty; it was a guttural moan and fat salty tears streamed down your reddening face. Your hands came to wipe at tears, but it was like trying to mop up a burst dam, fruitless.

Why did this hurt so much? You know your husband probably didn’t even realise Rachel had her head on his shoulder, in the past you’d managed to stack plastic cups on top of his head as he stared at the same sculpture for thirty minutes straight. The memory made a small chuckle interrupt your sobs, allowing you to breathe and compose yourself. He looked so goofy when he caught on, the cups collapsing around him as he chased you round the kitchen counter, laughter bouncing off the walls.

It was a culmination of things.

The late nights, forgotten dinners, your art inability, your husband's slight obliviousness… Drop dead gorgeous, amiable Rachel.

In his defence you hadn’t told him ANY of this, too scared of ruining the exhibition which he was excited about for once. And you know how he was when he was completely enraptured in a project.

Resting against the back of the seat, you exhaled a long-withered sigh.

He looked so confused, his brain whirring away like an old shitty laptop, if you imagined hard enough you could even hear the fans blowing off steam. He didn’t follow you out, the door to the building devoid of any Rafayel figure bursting through it.

The thought that he stayed behind even despite you obviously being angry at him drove a pin further into your heart. Your fingers grasped the wheel tight, pulling out of the car park with the expertise of a Linkon One Racer, the trees and city illuminations blurring together into a sporadic light show.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips when you finally crossed the threshold of your home, haphazardly throwing your stuff onto the coffee table, you collapsed face first into the velvety pillows of the couch. A subtle throb singed your temples, no doubt a dull headache looming.

You let your body sag deeper into the cushions, contemplating what you were going to do and how to properly have a conversation with your husband without it descending into something more devastating like escaping to the beach house for a few days. The last serious argument had ended in Rafayel sulking for a week straight, essentially barricading himself, in the rarely used holiday get away. But that was years ago, when things were still fresh and the relationship was full of love, but equal amounts of trepidation.

You shot up straight, knees unsteady, as the front door clattered open. Sounds of shoes being flung off and harsh breathing permeating the silence, your husband appeared from round the corner seconds later, his chest heaving with exertion and beads of sweat dotting his brows.

He looked panicked.

“Sweetheart” Rafayel hunched over slightly to regain his breath.

He was usually so suave and composed that seeing him like this, sweaty with hair plastered to his forehead and the collar of his normally crisp shirt stuck up, was weirdly therapeutic. You didn’t say anything, watching and waiting.

“I’m sorry, I just...” Deep inhale. “Lost track of time, my phone was on silent” He trailed off softly, as though he realised how lame his excuses sounded. You glared at him, letting the cold silence stifle the air.

“Yeah, I can tell you and Rachel were in your own little world” It came out harsher than intended, her name foul on your tongue, though regret pricked at your conscience at being so mean spirited about her.

“What? Well, she was helping me with the composition” You hummed absentmindedly. It was a strange way of helping somebody. If you didn’t know Rafayel better than you knew yourself, it would be hard to not jump to conclusions. You thumbed at the fabric of a throw pillow, the velvet fabric giving your antsy fingers something to do.

The room was awash with the white glow of the moon, the floor to ceiling windows opening up to the wide expanse of the sky and the calm inky sea. You couldn’t tell where the sea ended and where the sky began, if not for the distorted moon reflection on the water, it would just look like an endless abyss. Ready to swallow you up whole.

“You’ve ran all this way after me Rafayel” he flinched at the mention of his name, like a punch to the gut. It wasn’t baby or sweetheart or darling, the distance between you stretched on. “You know you’ve fucked up on some level”

“I know, it's not an excuse, it's just I turned round, and hours had gone by” he sat down next to you, knocking your knees together, he craved that contact no matter how small.

“It’s not just the time thing ugh” You pinched the bridge of your nose, that dull ache from earlier intensifying with each passing second. “Look it wasn’t okay Rafayel, no matter how entranced you are, I expect the decency of a reply to my texts. You’re usually so good with it”

You got up to grab some water from the kitchen, ignoring the forlorn look as you moved away from him.

“I bet you didn’t even notice Rachel had her head leant on your shoulder” you spoke clearly, slamming the glass a bit too harshly against the marble countertops. His mouth open and closed like a goldfish, expression befuddled. He was thinking back, trying to pinpoint what the fuck you were talking about.

“What? When did she have her head on my shoulder?!” He sat up straighter, suddenly the sweat very uncomfortable and itchy as it cooled on his skin. A big question on your mind was whether Rachel was just extremely friendly and touchy feely, or whether there was something a bit more personal to her lingering touches. You had seen her interact with other artists in a same manner so you’re guessing the former, but it didn’t sting any less. Even though the intentions behind it were pure, you couldn’t help the bubbling anxiety in the pit of your tummy, especially when Rafayel was NOT a touchy feel person. It felt like he was allowing something that was reserved for you, and you only. If she was a close friend, someone that Rafayel trusted, the situation would be different because there wasn’t an element of the unknown. But she was effectively a stranger who you had spoken to a handful of times.

“When I first walked in. Her head was leant on your shoulder.” You can replay the scene in your head even now “That was a boundary Rafayel. It makes me question how many times has she done that? How many times has she touched you?” Each word was dripping with insecurity and jealousy, a possessive bite that might as well scream ‘MINE.’

“Just… what am I supposed to do or think? Am I being selfish? But leaving me alone, days on end, I feel so alone.”

At the root of everything, you just missed him.

You didn’t even realise you were crying until you felt little droplets landing on your hands, still tightly clasped around your drink. And once one tear fell, an avalanche of tears followed soon after, accompanied by the trembling lip and frown that usually happened when you were trying to keep your emotions in check.

Rafayel was by your side in seconds, strong hands pulling you into a tight embrace with your head nestled securely against his collarbone. The beautiful scent of his floral aftershave washed over you, like the worlds most soothing blanket.

You couldn’t see his face, but there was a watery timbre as he spoke.

“I’m really sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise… how can I make it up to you? I’m sorry” He rambled on, words tumbling out faster and faster, nuzzling his face into the crown of your head, he just needed to be as close to you as physically possible. You pulled back just enough to look up into his eyes, face blotched with tears, beautiful eyes clouded with terror. Taking his face in your gentle hands, he leant into the touch like a starved animal.

Anger evaporated in seconds, the fear in his tense body made you pause the argument, instead only to wanting to comfort your husband. You were a sucker for his pearlescent tears.

“Sh sh darling” You wiped his tears away, tracing his nose and cheekbones with delicate fingers. He was beautiful, inside and out. This man would never ever intentionally hurt you.

“I know, you would never do anything like that. I know what you’re like, off in your own world” You laughed, which earned a timid smile in return. The swirling tornado of jealousy dwindled, in its wake a sense of calm, with the backing of the ocean waves crashing against rock, it lulled you into peace. Time slowly ticked on, but neither spoke, just contemplative silence.

“I think we need to talk about what happened, what we expect from one another, boundaries” You listed each point off. Perhaps if you had voiced concerns earlier, this build up of anxiety could have been avoided, communication was such an important factor of any relationship. Not to say that Rafayel was completely blameless, because he definitely wasn’t. “But why don’t we save that for tomorrow?” You were tired, it was late, and whilst the issue still subtly lingered, you needed a clear head.

Rafayel sniffled, his grip on you tightening, not yet ready to let you move. You raised an eyebrow, as he cleared his throat.

“I just want to… properly apologise. Without blubbering” He murmered quietly. “This exhibition is no excuse to how I’ve been acting, all the late nights and not even messaging you properly.” When he’d seen your messages about dinner, happy and caring, he felt like the biggest fucking asshole to exist. And he was an asshole, he knew that, and Thomas called him that on the daily. But not to you, his reason for breathing, the holder of his heart.

“Rachel is someone I look up to, but nothing more than that, I won’t let anything like that happen again.” If he was honest with himself, imagining you with someone else’s head resting in the crook of your neck… he could feel the pangs of hurt at just the hypothetical. But he truly did not even realise she was talking to him, never mind in his personal space.

“I accept your apology, and on my part. I won’t let things build up till I pop. Your poor Ferrari door…” you did slam it pretty hard… Rafayel didn’t seem to be listening though, mind wandering. Another problem for tomorrow.

You laid your head against his chest again, seeking out his warmth and the beat of his heart. A comfortable silence settled over the house; the cold nipped at your bare feet.

“I won’t do the exhibition” he spoke into the quiet, it felt like he was talking more to himself than you. He kissed your forehead, you know full well he’d quit on Thomas and burn the painting in the gallery if you asked him to, his pure devotion to you was unquestioned even with this little blip. But not only did you not want that, it wasn’t fair of you to ask him to pull out of something he had worked so hard for.

“My love, the other half of my soul” his eyes gleamed with adoration. “I want you to do this exhibition, show the world how fucking incredible you are. Not that they don’t know that already” You kissed his damp cheek. “We’re in this together. Forever”

“And beyond” He added, the statement ringing true and final. He’d wait for you in every timeline, every universe, every reincarnation.

“Just make sure you talk to me, let me know what’s going on, so I feel less alone” His hands rested on your hips, his head nodding like an enthusiastic puppy. “Also. I like Rachel, but please no more romantic head holding thank you”

He spluttered as you laughed, rocking into his body, the two of you spinning around, weightless on euphoria. He pushed you back, your knees folding against the arm of the couch as your back hit soft cushions. You looked up at him with fluttering lashes, his toned arms resting on either side of your head, caged in his protective bubble. A triumphant little smile graced his lips as you giggled, happiness radiating from you like a beacon, fuelled by relief.

“I know this goes without saying” he kissed your forehead, lips soft as your heart flip flopped in your chest, the intensity of his gaze pinned you in place.

“I love you” Kisses peppered your face soft and delicate; you were the most exquisite work of art he had the privilege of gazing upon. You gasped as he trailed from your cheek to your jaw, slowly moving down the sensitive flesh of your neck, teeth grazing against your collarbone. Fast fingers moved further down, skirting under your loose shirt featherlight. He caressed your body as though you were the most precious canvas, gliding over soft curves and bare skin, goosebumps following his delicate fingertips. He thrived on the little shudders and pants, heat and excitement building as he became more desperate, more fervent.

You gripped his hair, nails scratching at his scalp, pulling his head up to face you. His cheeks were flushed pink, eyes unfocused.

“I love you too, more than you can ever know” he grinned, surging up to capture your lips, still smiling into the kiss.

🐡

I don’t think I did Rafayel justice in this fic, sometimes my writing carries me away from the character. Not to mention I don’t like how this one is written, it feels disjointed, like it doesn’t flow. But I need to practise practise practise!!!!! Practise makes perfect.

I’m thinking of posting the professional motorbike racer Caleb fic next whilst I work on the other jealousy shorts.

[kelaeri]

The Many Languages of Dick Grayson

Apparently, according to Nightwing #54, he can speak 12, so I went on a little quest to see just how many I could identify.

Starting off with The Essential Batman Encyclopedia, the entry for Dick Grayson lists him as being trained in French, Spanish, Russian, Japanese, Mandarin, and Cantonese with having some proficiency in an unknown Romani dialect. Given there are multiple examples of him speaking these languages throughout the comics, I am inclined to trust this claim. To start, we've got several examples of French (Gotham Knights #14, Detective Comics Annual #12, Nightwing #73, Grayson #10-- also featuring Spanish)

In Grayson #1 he speaks Russian only briefly, but in Detective Comics #36 he speaks it throughout.

As far as the Chinese languages go, while I believe Dick can speak Mandarin and/or Cantonese fairly well (Batman/Superman World's Finest #3), his Hanzi recognition and literacy could use some work.

Similarly, when the Titans head off to Japan in Titans Annual #1, we have Nightwing speaking Japanese in battle; however, when it comes to the prospective job of being a manga translator in Nightwing #125, he claims he doesn't know Japanese, which leads me to believe he is only proficient in speaking Japanese/Chinese and struggles with the writing systems.

So what about the languages not covered in the encyclopedia? To start, we have another romance language: Italian (Nightwing #72).

Followed by some alleged German (Nightwing #51, JLA #44)

And conversations in Farsi (Robin #175)

While I've seen some Tumblr and Reddit posts claim he knows Kikuyu, The Power Company: Manhunter #1 only says he "brushed up" on his Kikuyu before going to Kenya, so it is unknown how much of the language he actually speaks, but to me it doesn't seem likely to be a lot.

He also, to some unknown degree, speaks Tamaranean-- at least enough to hack into an alien computer (Action Comics #842).

As far as unspoken languages go, Dick is fluent in ASL, which is proven numerous times when he communicates with Jericho (New Teen Titans 1984).

And lastly, the two languages that remain rather uncertain are Romani and Cant-- largely due to the nature of the languages themselves and their representation in comics. "Romani," for instance, has several different dialects, and when Devin Grayson introduced it for Dick (Gotham Knights #20-21, Nightwing #91), she never specified which, and based on the lines she wrote, her research into the language was questionable at best. Writers since have recognized Dick's Romani heritage, but have not otherwise suggested he retained much of the language to be considered fluent.

Cant is an even wider term than Romani and can be seen as more of jargon for a particular language than a language itself, sometimes even being called a "pseudo-language." The colloquial term for American circus cant is Carny, or "Carny speak" as Boston Brand puts it in Batman: The Brave and the Bold #14 when he and Nightwing encounter a kid who speaks it.

So... this leaves us with 11 languages Dick has notable proficiency in: English, French, Spanish, Italian, Russian, German, Japanese, Mandarin, Cantonese, Farsi, and ASL. And ~3 languages he has unknown proficiency in: Tamaranean, Kikuyu, Romani, and Carny/Cant (if you want to count it).

Maybe memory-loss Dick was including either Tamaranean or Kikuyu in that count from Nightwing #54, or maybe he knows some other language we haven't seen yet. Given how close the family is to the Al Ghuls, I personally think it would be cool if one of them was Arabic.

But anyway, hope you enjoyed this post! A lot I've seen covering this topic are very surface-level and label some of his more iffy languages as "fluent," so I hope this cleared things up. I've read tons of Nightwing, and I swear there are more examples, but sifting through the 1,000+ comics I've read of him is a lot haha. If y'all know of some others, let me know!