#bear with my lack of vocabulary

[paladinncleric]

Intruders: A Comedy of Terrors.

Pairing(s): Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

Summary: Jenna and R tackle an "intruder"

Warning(s): Fluff at the end, comedy

Words: 1k+

A/N: So this might be shitty, but bear with me it's my first one here.

"Don't panic, but I think there's someone in our house." was the first thing Jenna said to me after waking me up at *checks phone* 3 in the morning.

So naturally, I panicked.

"What?! Wait what?!" I said, making it very clear I just woke up with my lack of vocabulary.

Jenna pushed her index finger vertically towards my lips to shush me as she strained her ears to hear better. With her finger still pushing against my lips, I looked up at her with my eyebrows raised and my eyes wide with panic. She looked back down at me and said:

"Go check it out."

"What? no."

"You have to, you wear the pants in this relationship."

"Hey! What happened to hating hetero-normativity?" I whispered back as I stared at her bewildered.

"What? You're the one always bragging about topping. So, go be a top."

"Just cause I top in bed, doesn't make me the sacrificial goat in the relationship!"

Jenna sighed and said, "Okay fine, we'll go together."

"Do we have to go though? I mean we can just stay here blissfully oblivious to the danger and sleep."

She just stared back at me blankly, giving me her infamous Wednesday Addams stare.

"Okay Okay fine, let's go." I said sighing as I stood up and pulled up the pajama I discarded in the floor earlier getting in bed. While she got up to get her robe on as I picked up the baseball bat from the closet, I knew it'd come in handy someday.

I grabbed the knob as I gently twisted the knob with Jenna standing beside me holding her breath in anticipation as I opened the door and poked my head out in the hallway. I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw no one there and fully got out of the room while signaling for her to get out too.

As we were about to descend the stairs, we heard a creak sound coming from downstairs. I froze, oh my god I'm gonna die tonight.

"Y/n?" Jenna whispered.

A strangled noise came out of me as I stared downstairs my eyes wide with fear as I still stood frozen there.

"Oh for god's sake." I hear Jenna say as she pushes past me down the stairs. I break from my trance as I whisper-yell her name.

"Jenna! Jenna! wait for me!"

I hurry down the stairs careful not to step on the creak parts of the steps. I finally catch up to her as I tug on her elbow.

"Jen this isn't one of your movies, there's no guarantee you'll be the final girl. Although I think you have what it takes to be one, I think I'll be the tragic love interest though-"

Jenna cuts me off with a glare as she points towards the living room where a shadow can be seen. I immediately go quiet and I hear Jenna gulp as we both move towards the living room, me holding the bat and Jenna holding a random vase she picked up. As we near the entry to the living room I turn to her and signal that we'll charge in at the count of three. I take a deep breath as I feel a sweat trickle down my neck I turn to her and say:

"I love you and if I die tonight you're not allowed to date other people."

She narrowed her eyes at me and said, "Same goes for you too."

With that we shake hands like we settled a deal, and I leave a kiss on her hand as I let it go and finally say, "Okay on the count of three."

"One." We face the entrance again.

"Two." I tighten my hold on my bat.

"Three." And we both run into the room screaming while flailing our respective weapons around.

Two more screams can be heard too as we turn towards the sound and still continue screaming. Suddenly, the lights turn on as all of the screaming abruptly stopped.

"Georgie?!"

"Joy?!"

Both Jenna and I exclaimed, then a slurred voice said from the couch, "Emma." while giggling.

I slumped on the wall next to me as Jenna slumped on me as we both breathed a sigh of relief.

We move on over to the couch to see a drunk Emma mumbling stuff to herself half passed out and look towards our cause of unnecessary terror.

"You guys know that we're in the 21st Century right? All of us have phones?" Jenna exclaimed.

"You people scared the shit out of us, I was almost ready to sacrifice Jenna and run for my life."

"Me too, I already had a plan to push her in the killer's arms and run for the door."

"Fair." I replied.

Both of them gave us a weird stare, and then Joy started explaining, "Anyways...so all of us went out tonight which mind you, you guys declined for which I'm very offended. Then Emma got wasted, but her date ditched her last minute so she didn't have a place to stay for the night."

"So, y'all thought of breaking into our house?" I asked.

Joy glared at me for interrupting her but continued, "Also we're all going back to our hotel room and as Emma was supposed to come stay with y'all from tomorrow for a few days anyway, I thought why don't we just drop her off tonight."

"Yeah, I told you it was a bad idea." Said Georgie holding Emma down from lying on the couch upside down.

"Emma miraculously had a key, so we got in. But the drunken idiot thought it'd be great idea to announce her presence in the house. Georgie saw her and jumped on her to put his hands on her mouth to not to wake you guys but she struggled and caused him to slip on the carpet, which I'm guessing is the sound that woke you up?"

Emma woke up for a moment from her half-conscious state on the couch with her hand raised, said: "In my defense, I thought Georgie wanted to play-wrestle me." and passed out again.

Jenna rubbed her temple with a sigh and said while glaring, "This is the last time you people are entering my home at night without informing me."

Now, as tiny as she is, she's just as scary. So naturally, Joy and Georgie agreed immediately.

I chuckled as I stood up and said, "You guys need a ride home? none of you look completely sober to me."

"Nah, we're good, Thanks though. Hunter's got us covered, he's our designated driver." Said Georgie.

"Yea, he's parked outside waiting for us to drop Emma off." Said Joy.

All of us looked outside to see Hunter jamming out to songs in his car completely oblivious to us watching him.

"Well then, we're gonna get going. Sorry again y'all." Said Joy as she gave us both a quick hug with Georgie following her after hugging us too.

I cracked my neck after locking the door and I looked at Jenna as we both burst out laughing. Terrifyingly, Emma burst out laughing too while half passed out.

"Um ok, time to get her to bed." I said as I picked her up and placed her down on the guest room which will be the drunken's room for the next few weeks. Jenna placed some Advil and a glass of water on the bedside table with a note saying:

"Think before you drink next time <3

-Jen & Y/n/n"

I chuckled as I intertwined our fingers and gave her a peck on the lips. As soon as we reached our bedroom, I sprawled out on the bed exhausted from the events of the night, while Jenna went to the bathroom.

I was almost asleep when I felt someone jump on me, with still a little bit of panic left in me from the night, I jumped startled and fell right out of the bed to the floor.

I could hear Jenna struggling to hold in her laugh as I groaned at the contact my hips made with the floor. Then, I felt Jenna's hand trying to pull me up on the bed again, this time not even trying to conceal her laugh. I relented, as I got up on my own (it's not possible for Jenna to pick up someone almost a foot taller than her) and flopped down on top of her.

"Ugh Y/n/n, get off!" Jenna said giggling and squirming trying to get me off of her. I tightened my hands around her waist as I tucked my head on her neck, contentedly dozing off even with her moving so much.

"Nope, that's what you get."

After a while of struggling, she finally gave up. "Fine, but if I get hot later on I'm kicking you off the bed again." She said as she wrapped her arms around my head while moving a bit to the side so not all of my weight is on her.

With that we both started dozing off...

...until the sounds of throwing up could be heard from the room next to us. I groaned and Jenna deeply sighed as I moved away from her as we got up to aid our poor friend so she doesn't choke to death.

[miss-allsundays]

maybe it’s been said before but fuckkkk

i had known of course that just look my way had two versions, the og which was made by paranoid dj and the one sung by stolas’ VA, but i never really paid attention to the changes in lyrics??? well. until today.

(for reference, white background is the one from last december, the one in purple is the og version)

the first change i’ve noticed is the last two lines in both of these screenshots: in the og stols calls blitzø his ‘little impish plaything’, just like in truth seekers (fyi: the song was first dropped days before ozzie’s), whereas in the latest mv he uses a more affectionate petname- dearest- claiming also that he now “knows better” about the mistakes he made, about the nature of their arrangement (or at least what it’s based on), which is why he says he must let blitzø choose what he wants to do.

in the second change, there is a change in lyrics like before, but not just that; an entire part of the song (please bear with my lack of music-related vocabulary lmao) was taken off.

the main difference here is the broken heart≠ broken house line: it shows that, despite stolas surely caring for blitzø during s1, he doesn’t yet have strong romantic feelings for the imp, and instead he still views their relationship as something fun and carefree, a way to distract himself from the problems at home.

after everything that has happened, after s02e06, stolas has come to terms with being in love with blitzø, and he fears this rift between them will soon become permanent if he doesn’t act soon. he knows it’s not just about the full moon deal anymore, he’s putting his heart at stake.

the last difference is towards the end of the song; the pronoun changes (although i have no idea who stolas might be referring to when he says ‘she’ lmao), and now it’s clear to him that blitzø behaves the way he does because of trauma.

he knows he’s been hurt and left by those he cares about before, and he is aware that blitzø doesn’t believe his (stolas’) love to be genuine because he took advantage (even if subconsciously) of the fact that the imp needed the grimoire to make a living.

all in all, the song shows just how much stolas has grown. he understands and he cares for blitzø on a deeper level, which is why he doesn’t want to leave things as they are; or rather, stolas wants more out of their relationship than just sex, but he knows that if things stay as they are the two of them won’t work out.

he’s aware it might not end well, that blitzø might reject him and might not want to have anything to do with him aside from the deal. but he’s desperate, and he can’t stand this limbo in which their relationship has been thrown into, so he might as well try.

because the worst that could happen is being lonely and unfortunately he’s well accustomed to loneliness.

[mod-doodles]

Fire Suppression Exam: Inspired by @sydcarmyfan

Fire: In romance ‘fire’ is commonly used to describe love; the ignition of a flame is the act of falling in love alternatively the extinguishing of a flame is the act of falling out of love. A fiery love is one in which is filled with intense passion and desire, it engulfs the body, mind and soul - physical, mental and spiritual. We’ve hit all of these notes with Carmy and Sydney, he’s started making physical contact with Sydney more often; he yearns for her touch, the editing suggests very unsubtly that she is nestled firmly on his conscious and his soul literally is at peace with at the thought of her and when he’s around her.

Suppression: to suppress is prevent the development, action, or expression of (a feeling, impulse, idea, etc.); restrain (Oxford Dictionary). As it has been discussed in grave detail in all of the beautiful meta, there’s a couple of solid reasons why Carmy has withheld crossing the romantic threshold; workplace relationship (major liability), lack of past relationship history and his past trauma so yes very very loaded. I’ll probably write about this next because now I’ll thinking about it lol.

The Test: The ‘fire suppression test’ is symbolic of Carmy’s growing desire, passion and love for Sydney. The Bear *restaurant* may have passed the ‘fire suppression test’ but the bear *Carmy* has failed and was unsuccessful at fire suppression - insert table scene *my attention shouldn’t be split, it shouldn’t have to be shared, she’s so great it scares the shit out of me, I could do this without you, I wouldn’t want to this without you, you make me better at this, you deserve my full focus, you’re not alone*.

‘Strange Currencies’ - R.E.M.

And I don't know what you mean to me But I want to turn you on Turn you up, figure you out I want to take you on

These words, you will be mine

Carmy does not have the emotional vocabulary to describe the role that Sydney plays in his life and his heart and the arson gene is strong in the Berzatto family (shoutout to the op that said that) and Sydney is the fire thats ablaze and engulfing Carmy’s heart. Lmao why am I so corny.

I’m a walking, living, breathing ‘confirmation bias’ and I’m unstoppable. No cast/crew, media article and sure as hell no anti shipper/platonic battalion member could ever stop me. The only thing that can stop me is an episode that dismantles the entire ship or the series finale that is inconclusive.

[mysticalfestivaloperatorbagel]

I've been questioning if I'm on the aromantic spectrum, and recently learned about squishes (non-romantic version of crushes) and zucchinis (name for non-romantic partner who is more than a friend). As annoying as jargon is, having these words and seeing them used by people with similar experiences has helped me so much in figuring out my relationships.

I thought I had a crush on a man because I had a desire to be close with him, but it was confusing because I consider myself a lesbian. We now have a very strong friendship and while I feel a deep connection with him, it is purely a platonic feeling. He is the first person I thought of when I learned the word "squish," and the new vocabulary help make sense of similar confusing feelings I've had for others.

I've had a relationship that was neither platonic or romantic but still incredibly strong and intense. When I think "have I ever been in love before" I say yes because of this person. Even though she is alloromantic and had a partner, we had plans to be entwined in each other's lives and she was the most important person to me. I definitely had no romantic feelings for her, but when we "broke up" it was different than losing a friend; I felt like I couldn't survive without her and felt so broken I didn't think I could love anyone else. I would have absolutely called her my zucchini if I had the terminology at the time, and that's the type of long term partner I always imagined myself with. I don't think QPRs are necessarily stronger or weaker than romantic relationships, to me they hold a similar level of significance but just feel tangibly different.

I recently started seeing someone in a more romantic way, but both of us have blurry lines between romantic and platonic feelings. We have strong feelings for each other so we decided to keep "dating" and be confused together for now <3 But learning about zucchinis helped clarify a lot for me, in this case because I have a word for what I DON'T want. I've had squishes that I wanted a QPR with (I saw someone call these squashes?) but that's not what I want with this person. I want all of her, I want her so strongly it keeps me up at night, I want to wrap myself up in her and kiss her until I can't breathe and love her deeply enough that she understands how special she is. I've never felt this way before and I still have some blurry lines, but I know this is closer to a romantic attraction. I know I don't want to be her zucchini I want to be her girlfriend.

People have told me I can't be asexual AND a lesbian, and I think I've written off being aromantic for a similar fear of not being allowed to be aromantic AND a lesbian (bear with me here). But I've used the split-attraction model to validate my separation between romantic and sexual attraction, and I have to remember I can do the same for other types of attraction. Zucchinis and squishes are the first time I've heard aromanticism described as an ALTERNATIVE to romantic attraction instead of a LACK of romantic attraction. So maybe I am not completely aromantic, but now I am more comfortable thinking of myself on the aro spectrum (maybe grayromantic?). Platonic, romantic, and queerplatonic relationships all mean something different to me but are all important.

I'm not a big fan of hyperspecific labels for myself so probably won't regularly refer to myself as an asexual-grayromantic-lesbian. But it's grounding to have the words to understand myself.

[isa-solasun]

WHEN YOU CRIED PT. II FT. SATAN, ASMODEUS, AND BELPHEGOR

. content warnings: angst. self-worth issues [ pulling on hair, comparing yourself to another ], insecurities [ extreme awful self-image, low self-esteem, deprecating thoughts ], and trust issues [ trauma(?) ]

. headcanon format: drabbles

. note: part I 3RD OF AUGUST, IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!!!! and i had to go through some brainstorming with this one lol. so sorry, i love him sm but i really can't think of anything for beel so he's not here right now :< anywho, hope you enjoy! once again please message me if i missed any possible warning <3

SATAN, THE AVATAR OF WRATH

it's not true.

nothing you just uttered was true. that sounds like something satan would've said. you're enough just as you are, he'd say. and no matter how many times and how hard you try, you couldn't believe any of it.

you're nothing compared to them. you're lacking in this and that, you're either too honest or too secretive, you're too kind or blunt.

you're not enough yet you're too much. it's draining. yet this toxic mindset of yours refused to be let go.

you drop the book satan lend to your lap, instead bringing your hands to your head. with strands of hair wrapped around your fingers, you pulled as hard as you could as your teeth tear through your chapped lips to stay quiet.

you tried your best to muffle your screams and even that something you couldn't do.

how useless.

wails of agony echo, hopelessness bouncing off of one wall onto another. you would never achieve it. you would never be on the same level as them. you would never be as smart, as kind, nor as loveable.

you could never be as amazing as them.

and unbeknownst to you, the demon you deeply wanted to keep this emotion from the most was crying the same tears as yours. the usually smooth movements of his tongue halted. his wide range of vocabulary goes to broken silent sobs the moment he tries to speak.

satan wished to call out your name. to hear you call his back with your warm smile. satan wished to hear you say the things you have said to him. things you've said to reassure him, to make him feel whole. to feel enough.

but satan knows that this is the time for him to do the same for you. to love you, to make sure that you'll be content with yourself.

to make you feel alive.

ASMODEUS, THE AVATAR OF LUST

to you, looking in the mirror has always been painful.

you couldn't remember the last time you felt content with your body, you would always find something to not be satisfied with somewhere. whether it be some spots, scars, or even just skin that looked off to you.

but that doesn't even make sense, what're you on? you looked just like any other being. everything and everyone has imperfections, even lucifer has them. mammon once said, and you understood where he came from. and he was true,

you're fine.

there's nothing wrong with how you look or how you're build because nothing will ever be perfect and nothing ever should.

it truly was a mystery as to how you and asmodeus got along so well. the two of you were so similar yet so different at the same time. you yearn and yearn for the utmost beauty and the biggest difference on you was just the fact that asmodeus is one step away to achieve that spot.

not being able to bear any more thoughts rushing through, you looked down, staring at the floor beneath you with blank stares.

you heard footsteps approaching and it stops right in front of you as another pair of feet entered your line of view. their soft finger wiped the single drop of tear at the corner of your eye, the gentle gesture seemingly triggered the other tears to drop along to the ground.

asmodeus caresses your face and lifts it to meet his beautiful pair of pink pools. he smiled, glossy lips trembling with mascara running down his sweet cheeks as he comes forward and pulled you into a much-needed embrace.

BELPHEGOR, THE AVATAR OF SLOTH

If there's one thing you know were true,

it's that you love belphegor.

but right now, like many times before, you doubted he ever felt the same. No matter whether it's platonic or romantic, you're not sure he is even fond of your existence.

belphegor had killed you once, and he made it clear that he tolerates you just because of your connection to his little sister. it's crazy that you stayed near him after all of the audacity he has.

this is stupid. you're stupid.

you laughed so hard at your ridicule that your eyes watered. obviously, he wouldn't, why would he? you're just an ordinary mortal human, and he's had huge trauma regarding humans.

belphegor stirred in his sleep upon your pained laughter, his half-asleep brain confused as to why there's such thick fog in your subconscious. too tired to talk, he opted slung his arms around your shoulder instead, pulling you down to his chest whilst his thumb rubbed circles to your back.

you shouldn't trust him! your brain screams. but you don't want to listen to it anymore, you want to stop worrying about everyone's intention whenever they do anything related to you.

and if this had only proved all of his points, that you're just a naive, overly trusting, dumb mortal, then so be it. because you believed that the belphegor you know had changed and he's willing to love you as much as he could until you believed in it.

Main Masterlist

©isa-solasun please do not steal

[beeb-oob]

The basic facial expressions Chirpers display:

The facial expressions are pretty subtle on their own, they are usually accompanied by body language, like lifting one of their forelimbs when sad, lowering their head when angry or opening their hand-structures (i don't have a good name for those yet) when happy or flustered.

Also, these are individuals, so there's always going to be differences between them.

Some examples for body language are the splaying or holding together of their feet, splaying conveys confidence while the other conveys uncertainty and/or shyness.

A usual sign that accompanies agression is the lowering of the head and diplaying the red insides of the head membranes, as well as frantic chirping and bellowing, as shown in the crude sketch.

____________________________________________________________________________

Another post done!

I just love the idea of these guys cussing each other out and being angry, while from the outside it just looks like two weirdos staring each other down like little freaks XD

If anyone wants to make their own Chirper, go right ahead! I'd love to see your little gremlins so tag me so i can look at them, maybe i'll get some worldbuilding inspo!

Last thing i wanna share is that my first language isn't english and i lack the vocabulary for proper terminology, please bear with my lacking vocabulary Xd

@charseraph

[thegodthief]

Keri drops several hundred useless words after the jump.

When things get entangled and dark, I will drop as much "learned" stuff as I can and go back to how it started: Dreamwalking. And each time I've done so, what gets confirmed is that I will always have more than one way to get things done. Even when I deliberately try to walk a single path, I get pulled back to a certain crossroads where the answer is not "one" but "many".

I will do This and I will do That and I will go Here and I will go There and while some of these have overlap, they are each their own individual thing to reckon with. Each time I then try to research whether or not I can actually do what has been shown to me, I wind up walking face-first into a locked door. The traditions have either been closed off by survivors or salted into oblivion by conquerors.

My blood is too dirty to wash the path clean.

Writing things down for peer review started off good for me, in that I had people willing to call me on my bullshit and wishful thinking. And then shortly before the pandemic, there was a shift online and it wasn't safe to be public about public things anymore. The worst and most obvious example is "tarot reading is a closed tradition" bullshit.

Bear with me, I'm trying to sort out what I'm trying to say, because each time I start to get close to the concept, self-preservation kicks in and I wind up self-censoring because I don't want to get dogpiled again.

But...

Kinda hard to be controversial if you don't even have the words to describe what you're being transgressive about.

I know some of my posts have certain words and phrases redacted, and they are going to stay redacted, because there are worse consequences than an internet mob to avoid.

But...

There is this thing, and it is something I'm supposed to be doing, and it's something that I'm supposed to be doing along side all the other shit that I'm doing. But I lack the vocabulary to even begin to describe the thing in except with words that are No Longer Authorized™ to be used in public, and...

It feels like everyone wants to sell me an identity that is Safe For Public Use™.

...

(stares at the screen)

(stares at the keyboard)

The proliferation of AI along with the already endemic SEO salt means trying to find information as a "solitary practitioner" makes me feel like I'm better off walking off a cliff to confirm gravitational force than trying to learn anything online, regardless of disposable income and the doors that income could unlock.

...

I just want to know just what the fuck I am.

Why is that so hard?

[oraclekleo]

Christopher Bang (Stray Kids) Kinky Reading

Hello and welcome!

I’m Kleo and I’m here to present some k-pop related tarot readings to you.

Disclaimer:

I would like to state that all these readings have a purely entertainment nature and their purpose is to bring some fun into my and hopefully yours lives. I have never ever met any of the idols / actors / celebrities in my readings, I don’t know them personally. Tarot reading isn’t an exact science and I can never guarantee any of it. Most of it is my intuition mixed with fantasy. Don’t take these readings seriously and don’t base any important decisions on tarot readings only, use your common sense.

If you wish to request a tarot reading, please read the pinned post on my profile first to see the instructions on how to request. I only do readings for idols / actors / celebrities of 18 years of age or older. Requests for readings including younger people will be automatically dismissed. If you feel uncomfortable with these tarot readings, do not engage in reading my posts. Thank you for understanding.

Reading Info:

Rating: 18+

Reading Type: Single - Couple

Requested: Yes - No

Deck: E. A. Poe

Spread: Kinky

Questions:

Position

Libido

Turn On

Kink

Full Name: Christopher Bang

Stage Name: Bang Chan

Group: Stray Kids

Christopher Bang

(Bang Chan - Stray Kids)

Deck: E. A. Poe

Spread: Kinky Reading

Position - XIV Temperance

Bang Chan is likely to take a submissive role in a relationship, especially if his partner is someone more experienced and wiser than himself. He’s likely to be a devoted lover with a pure heart and cheating is not in his vocabulary at all.

Libido - 10 of Cups

Bang Chan is romantic through and through. He’s full of overwhelming love for his significant other and will share it with them with eagerness and joy. He’s likely to fall in love head on and completely, feeling emotionally fulfilled and satisfied with the relationship. He's an attentive and caring lover, always making sure his partner feels loved and happy.

Turn On - 3 of Cups

Bang Chan is likely to seek for a cheerful and merry person to share his life with. He might sometimes suffer from gloominess and lack of self-esteem so he needs someone to support and encourage him, someone to give him a bear hug and hold him strong when he feels like he might fall apart. Bang Chan needs someone positive by his side, someone who sees something good about everything.

Kink - XXI The World

Bang Chan’s kink is likely to be an overstimulation. He kinda gets the kick from going through martirium and mixing it up with pleasure will likely make him lose his mind.

Thank you for reading!

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[touchoflaughter]

Vikings Headcanons

So this is my first attempt in the Tk-Headcanon game and probably no-one will care about it anyways but I had to live out my obsession about the Lothbroks once again! (Because they're everything!!) I'll get started with Ivar and Björn on this one. Hehe have fun!

The ✨ Ragnarssons ✨ everyone!

First off my all time favourite:

Ivar Lothbrok / The Boneless

being the youngest would make him the most popular victim already but the reason he constantly gets tormented by his brothers is more due to his sarcasm, lack of respect and ruthlessness that's in stark contrast with being super ticklish

Ivar would never identify as a Lee, yet he get's tickled the most

He's a solid 12 on a tickle scale from 1 to 10. Probably since he has no sense left in his lower body, his upper body's sensitivity got doubled?

His worst spots are hard to determine since his whole torso is one big weak spot. It depends on the day which area is most sensitive.

A fun fact is, that even his tree trunk shaped arms are extremely sensitive- I'll leave it to your imagination what happens when you get to his pits...

The sadistic viking leader hates when one of his brothers takes advantage of his ticklishness. He doesn't want to be taken down by something as childish as tickling.

Also public tickles are his worst nightmare. He chases the image of a fierce and feared Leader- what's quite the contrary to the ticklish mess he get's as soon someone strokes along his side.

No matter how bad you get him- due to his stubbornness he would NEVER cave in.

As a Ler he's better not underestimated. Even though his legs are a disadvantage, once he managed to get his hands on his victim, there's no escape. Ivar's incredible arm and torso strength easily makes up for his useless legs.

He'd definitely be a sadistic Ler (if he'd be interested in something as childish and embarrassing as tickling). Mercy does not pertain to his vocabulary so you better hold him down really good, cause it's over once he get's up...

Ivar is the most cunning Ragnarsson with not only glorious war-plans but also the most effective tickling strategies. He loves to make fun of his victim what often is even more horrific than the actual tickling. Again- you'll pay an awful price for messing with him.

Björn Lothbrok / Ironside

Björn being called Ironside is no coincidence. The oldest of the Ragnarssons might not be the greatest thinker evil tongues (such as Ivars) would say -but- he's without a doubt the strongest and most skilled fighter. This makes him the Ler most of the time. No brother is able to keep up with him physically. That's why they sometimes decide to team up against him.

He's a kind-hearted Viking who'd never hurt a loved one on purpose. That's why he's using tickling quite a lot to assert dominance towards his little brothers but also for playful bonding.

As the big brother, Björn often sees himself in a leading position what makes him clash with his stubborn brother Ivar quite often. Good thing he can easily put the youngest in place with just one finger.

Unexpectedly his bear paw-shaped hands are pretty versatile tickle tools. Also there's a lot of strength in them so he can easily pin and tickle his victim for a long time without getting tired. Afraid yet? Good.

All in all, Björn is a merciless but playful Ler who laughs along with the Lee. He loves to tease but always looks after the wellbeing of his victim- except we're talking about Ivar. In this case he shows no mercy at all and his sympathetic giggling turns into a wolfish grin and gleeful laughter.

In the rare case he get's overpowered, he makes a pretty happy Lee. Björn doesn't feel embarrassed being tickled as long as it stays within the family.

He's a little ticklish everywhere but only his knees, thighs and armpits bring him to his knees.

The oldest is pretty tough when it comes to begging for mercy. Probably it's also because he secretly enjoys having a good laugh with his siblings.

One thing he really tries to avoid is being wrecked by his brother Ivar. Not only his tickling is working best on Björn, also his teasing affects him way too much. Ivar rarely tickles for bonding but mostly to see his victim suffer and pure self-entertainment. Naturally that's something Björn can't let pass.

[woodpengu]

As a person who loves to read and cares about quality in my writing, I need more than a single line of 5 stars to properly rate them with. And, no, the solution isn't to extend it to 10 stars.

Conversations with my lovely fiance over our love of reading whatever scratches the itch of the moment have resulted in an expanded idea. (note, the conversations were primarily focused on fictional books, but this could apply to more than that with some tweaks in perception/definition, mayhaps)

First: half stars. The option to give a fraction of a star to something rather than the total average votes from the reading community doing that for me... because I don't have the same opinion as someone else, nor does the rating reflect the same reasoning. "But that's what the comment/review window is for." My dude... I'm a complex organic lifeform with my brain matter defining me as an apex predator over the bear that wants to maul my ass. I have needs and laziness to put that bear to shame; give me my convenience.

Second: multiple ratings. Like, four categories of rating up to 5 stars (including, .5 and 0, please n thankies). Examples? I came up with the following (rough summaries)... 1. Technical Skill: Grammar, punctuation, vocabulary usage (doesn't have to be superfluous, just match consistently throughout the story), dynamic sentence lengths, etc. Am I reading a fictional tale or a textbook article; a persuasive essay or journalism on social issue; and does the writing match the intent? Which bleeds into... 2. Story Telling: Flow, emoting, pacing, clear themes, readable setting, etc. Is the writing too technical for fiction; too cerebral for YA; out of touch with the setting it's speaking from; misrepresenting a character's age, gender, [insert demographic here], or misrepresenting the themes in some way? Can I see myself sitting across the fire from an old nomad as they tell me this tale or am I distracted by the neighbor's cat in heat or the drunken minstrel wooing... someone (same thing, right?). 3. World Building: Believable, inspired (rather than stolen) concepts/ideas, relatable, comprehensive, etc. If I dropped into this world, could I discern what it takes to survive/thrive in it? Did I read this idea somewhere else before OR something like it? Religion, culture, philosophy, history, science, art, challenges/obstacles having explanations for presence or lack that aren't edgelordy or "because I said so". 4. Personal Feelings: The genuine, general feedback of the reader of [insert media here]. The biased opinion or personal thought of an individual towards what they've consumed. How did I, personally, as the reader, feel about this book/story/novel/manga/etc.?

Why? Because I've been known to absolutely despise a good book or absolutely love a bad one. Because I've been led on by a book with phenomenal writing only to encounter plagiarism within. Because the reason one person rates a book at 5 stars differs from another: some are personal, some are impartial, some are rating something very specific to themselves. And this all renders the average ratings on a book inaccurate.

I care too much for the above (world-building, skill of a writer, personal thoughts/feels) to settle for calling certain praised works "praiseworthy" in my own experience. No, I don't mean that I need everything to be Tolkien, because I would give it a lower rating in some categories than in others since there are ways it doesn't reach me as the reader. Books like "House of Leaves" or "Don Quixote" might be critically acclaimed pieces of literary brilliance, but they are difficult-to-consume pieces... which lowers my enjoyment of them. And my needs and mood differ throughout the day, which is why I have 6+ books on my "currently reading" list, changing up what suits me at that time.

It also goes back to recovering from complex traumas as a neurospicy adult trudging through the ick of the modern day. My brain requires more touchstones in the now, points of reference for sparking memory about media I've consumed and why I had certain feelings towards it. (Catcher in the Rye was a love of my youth and is far too cringe for my adulthood) Utilizing that data as a lens (alongside my stress level and mood meter of the moment) through which to look at something else I'm curious to give a try. And that's harder for me to do when the ratings and comments are vague and based inconsistently on personal feelings rather than the actual skill or quality of the work itself. Which adds to the common habit of traumatized beans to consume the same bits of media repeatedly (yay, trust issues).

Yes, I've been known to love a trash novel and hate a classic, but that's personal feelings opposed to writer skills. Which clicks back into my old post about critiques on art: you can hate something that is technically brilliant and well-executed... and you can love something that could use a LOT of reworking [*side-eyes Twilight*]. But the difference is crucial. Just finished a book that I would give 0 stars to on every category... that was gifted to me by a dear friend who is also dear friends with the author. But they weren't expecting me to love it as much as they were being supportive of their writer friend (kudos). Versus a different friend singing the praises of a book that turned out to be plagiarism incarnate with a side-serving of ick. Versus another person absolutely hating a story I enjoyed that scored high in multiple categories.

Point being... I need to live in a less-generalized reality.

[wolfbrawn]

❛  fervent .   to  have  sex  with  my  muse  after  a  fight .

Farkas despised battles of words. He was too slow in speech, too lacking in vocabulary to express the feelings that clawed their way out of his chest. What he could not voice was instead written into the features of his weathered, war painted face. Anger sprouted from hurt – that ugly, barbed seed – and left him seething.

Fortune had been on his side. A job had taken him deep into the pine-soaked, misty vales of Falkreath. As he made his return, nursing bloodied and bruises knuckles, he had caught their scent. Carried on a wind wet with the threat of rain – pipe smoke and leather, liquor and botanicals he could not name. In the moment it tickled his nose, he imagined he could still taste his own blood, that which had been spilled during their final, flint-edged kiss.

Dionisia.

His hunt ended in confrontation, in a reunion that burned white-hot, bringing them to a violent boil beneath boughs of dew-painted trees.

“You left.” Farkas snarled, pricked by the abandonment, by the rejection. The cut on his neck had healed in a thin red line – a parting gift from Dionisia’s blade – but it was the unseen and bloodless wounds that stung most sharply. “You left me.”

Fury simmered in his blood, a fire that spilled too easily into passion. He could not say exactly how he ended up kissing them, ferociously, skinning them like a rabbit. The tug and peel of leather saw their breeches bunched at their calves, their mound left bare. Farkas dropped to his aching knees, sinking into that thick carpet of pine needles, burying his face at the apex of their thighs, their cunt beneath the blade of his tongue.

Wicked, clever fingers dragged through the wild tangle of his hair, nails scraping against his scalp, scratching him like spurs. Farkas growled, turned his mouth to their thighs, feasting on blue-violet flesh. Teeth left them bruised and love-bitten, the coarse drag of his short beard giving rise to a dusky, moon-shadow flush.

Still unsatisfied, he soon dragged them down onto the damp earth and turned them about, using his strength to shamelessly position their limbs, their body, until they were on hands and knees. Thick, eager fingers then fumbled beneath his leather tassets, plucking at the strangling ties of his breeches until they loosened, until he was able to pull them down. Farkas was on them in an instant, mounting them in the manner of a stray mutt-dog. Rudely, he stuffed his aching cock inside them, his bear-paw hands seizing their hips, heaving them back onto every desperate thrust. It made for a furious rut, among the leaf litter and fungus, among all things green and mossy.

Breath escaped from between Farkas’ clenched teeth in ragged exhalations, steam leaking from the chinks in his steel armour as the fever of his blood burned bright and hot. He drove himself into them as though this physical joining would be enough to keep them united, as though the warm wet of their arousal would be enough to glue them together.

A broad hand curled around the back of their neck before thinking better of it, instead snaking around to hold their throat. There he squeezed, he lifted, bending them back until their back arched like a drawn bow. He wanted them looking at him. He wanted the intimacy of being face-to-face. Reflexively, his unoccupied palm rubbed over their thrust-out chest, seeking the apples of their breasts, only to be denied by the leather cuirass they still wore.

“Didn’t you miss this? Didn’t you miss us – ?”

[gascon-en-exil]

As I mentioned yesterday, Octopath Traveler II put me in the mood to write fanfic - which is unusual as I never write fanfic and in fact have no creative writing ability whatsoever. In spite of that however, I've decided to share my notes on the concept that I'd thought of for a Partitio/Osvald story; possibly someone may enjoy them.

Spoilers for the ends of their stories, and for OT2 in general, under the cut.

It occurred to me that Partitio and Osvald have something rather unusual in common: both have lived in situations where, historically speaking, sexual contact between men would be considered permissible in the near or total absence of women. For Partitio, this was his youth in a frontier mining town; for Osvald, his time in prison, and a freezing-cold prison at that, so you could add the "shacking up for warmth" trope into it as well. Given the number of party and tavern banters that involve the travelers getting drunk and silly, it's entirely plausible that the two of them may have wound up in bed together in this way - and yet have come away from the encounter with so much left unsaid.

In this story Partitio would be gay, but without the experience or the vocabulary to express that as - probably? - befits the setting. Instead he would have fooled around with his posse of friends in his youth, becoming confused and a little sad as each of them in turn found a sweetheart (as in fact happens with one of them in a sidequest) as Oresrush expanded while he remained seemingly uninterested. He'd also have hanging over his head the unmentionable something that had been and - after his story - is again between his father and Roque. Partitio's story suggests that for a portion of his childhood he essentially had two fathers, and it concludes with Papp and Roque getting back together, in some sense. If there was ever anything between the two of them it wouldn't be anything Papp would ever speak of, and certainly not to his son. That would be perhaps why Papp thinks nothing of Partitio bringing home a hulking bear of a man when he's finally decided to take a break from his travels.

That arrangement came from the thought that Osvald is still technically a wanted man at the end of his story. He's presumed dead and the prison on Frigit has been shut down, but if he were to reveal himself there'd be no one alive who could or would be willing to prove his innocence except Elena - and she ends the story in a state of mental recovery that would be unsuited for any legal proceedings. Hence Partitio's friendly offer for his partner to come stay with him and his Pops while Partitio & Roque hammers out the logistics of the western continent's growing railway network. Osvald, knowing that he has to keep a low profile but wanting to keep busy, offers to teach the children of Oresrush whenever the town finds itself lacking a schoolmaster. Every few months he journeys to Conning Creek to check in on Elena from afar, and whenever he goes Partitio remains up the whole night awaiting his return, fearing that he'll instead be greeted in the morning with a letter from Lady Clarissa explaining that Osvald had been identified and apprehended by the authorities. More than once Papp catches Partitio at the proverbial window, and while they still do not speak of anything that may or may not be going on in that house behind closed doors, Papp reassures his son that Osvald will always find his way back. Behind the aforementioned closed doors Partitio grows adventurous in more ways than one; on the first evening that they try anal sex, he ventures to ask if Osvald learned his technique from his time on Frigit Isle. Osvald only stares at him blankly before replying that that had never occurred to him, not with the fire for revenge in his breast sustaining him. Instead, he'd encountered the subject before in books - a response so matter-of-fact that Partitio boggles not only over the fact that people actually wrote books about these things but that it did not even occur to Osvald to find this unusual.

Later they relocate to the eastern continent, renting a modest townhouse in New Delsta with only a handful of servants as Partitio expands his company's world-changing products to new shores and sets to work devising even more innovative uses for steam. This shocks the society papers of New Delsta, who cannot help but regard Partitio - this country-bred nouveau riche bachelor without even the forethought to display his newfound wealth as men of his type would be expected to do - with astonishment and a fair amount of derision. They have little to remark on his quiet, seemingly nameless companion (what else can they call him?), and the two rarely make appearances in public except at the theatre, where burgeoning superstar Agnea has secured a private box for the use of all of her friends and from which Partitio and Osvald take in many of her performances. Osvald submits papers on the nature of the One True Magic anonymously to the library in Montwise; Partitio and Agnea go on several dates (the papers have a field day with this), but the spark isn't there; Temenos arranges a visit and at one point all three men stumble into bed together. Partitio balks at the idea of Temenos having such a casual fling after he'd already lost one (or was it two?) intimate friends, but Temenos laughs this off and with his usual snark prods at Partitio's insecurities. It's a good thing Osvald doesn't think as Partitio does, isn't it? Partitio wants, momentarily, to punch him - but he restrains himself.

Some years pass and Partitio nears thirty. Lady Clarissa writes to Osvald to suggest that time and regular visits have done their work, and that the now-teenaged Elena would like to live with her father again. Partitio's heart breaks when he hears the news, seeing in this the inevitable end of their unnamable whatever-it-was, but he puts on his most cheerful face and treats Osvald out to one last big night on the town. This being Osvald, that mostly means sitting in the secluded corner of their favorite tavern and dining on mediocre pub fare accompanied by an abundant supply of coffee before at last Osvald agrees to have a few drinks, but Partitio can't bring himself to care. As the two of them stroll back to their townhouse well after midnight, one of Partitio's arms slung around Osvald's shoulders, he shares the evening's biggest surprise: he offers to buy Osvald and Elena a house wherever they might want to live, and provide them with an income so the two of them might live however they please and never have to worry about money again.

Osvald peers down at Partitio over his spectacles, and corrects him: surely he must have meant the three of them. Partitio, caught off guard, mumbles that that isn't necessary, that they don't have to keep doing this and that Osvald deserves a happy, normal life with his daughter. There, under the dim lamplight of a dingy New Delsta side street, the two of them are finally forced to confront years of unspoken desire for something genuine and lasting - something which Osvald, unromantic though he might be, had been under the impression that he'd been conveying in a hundred little companionably domestic ways all this time - but he'd failed to account for just how very green his lover really was, even when it came to his greatest desire. When Osvald leans down and kisses a still-spluttering Partitio, it's the first time they've ever done so in public.

They purchase a house in Canalbrine, near enough to the sea to feel familiar to Osvald and Elena, but without the painful memories of Conning Creek. Father and daughter become properly reacquainted and settle into their new residence, and they buy a plot in the local cemetery with a new grave for Rita. Partitio dives into business at the port, unveiling his and Roque's bold plans for steam-powered ships that will halve the time needed to make the crossing and revolutionize intercontinental trade. He always makes time though for the two people he now considers to be his family, ensuring they take breaks from their research to eat and take walks, and taking Elena with him on some of his trips around the western continent - including to Wellgrove's famous department store where he teaches her how to haggle. Osvald chides him for trying to turn Elena into a merchant, but it's all in jest; both of them know the girl fully intends to attend the university in Montwise as soon as she's old enough, building on Osvald's impressive body of work surrounding the Seventh Source. Elena meanwhile never questions why her father and his friend (who calls her "chickadee" sometimes - she rolls her eyes when he does, but smiles to herself all the same) share a room with a single bed; Lady Clarissa had instructed her well in the ways of the world, and she is at ease knowing that her father has found happiness again.

When the day comes for Elena to journey to Montwise, Partitio insists on the three of them traveling to the eastern continent on the Grand Terry. He and Osvald wave Elena off at the train that will take her from the harbor into the Crestlands, both of them crying and not even bothering to hide it although it embarrasses her. They console themselves on the trip back like they've always done in the years since their first wild hookup, and so turn on toward home.

[donniesexceptionalmind]

*Sending some good vibes to the most handsome softshell turtle, that the universe has ever been honoured to see*👀💅💫

Hiii Donnie 💜 Before I say anything, I want to apologize for my lack of knowledge in grammar and vocabulary ... I'm not native and I'm not "THAT" advanced either... I hope you don't mind (-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩___-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩)

I hope that you're doing well... well.. Apart from the fact that the weather is very hot and everyone feels like they are melting and And I can swear on the name of Galileo that if the weather warms up another two degrees, I will bear fruit-... Yeah.. technically I can't .Let it be considered that I wanted to show how catastrophic the temperature is -

But in order for you to be hopeful about this situation, I must say that today in my country we reached a temperature of 51 degrees,And in our house everyone are having tea while they are whining about the temperature🗿 sigh* send help

⁦༎ຶ‿༎ຶ⁩

Greetings, Moon! 🌙

I feel flattered by your words & good vibes, thank you.

Apart from my temperature regulation issues, I have been quite alright, working on some blueprints & on upgrades for my dearest Shelldon.

Your language seems fine to me, don't worry about making mistakes, I mess up too. It's normal.

51 degrees? I would literally melt.

Or cooked alive.

Oh no, memories of that gourmet come back to me-

Nevertheless, I am happy you're here & I hope you enjoy the most of your stay!

Your support means a lot!

(*￣▽￣)ノ~~ ♪

[laooneart]

Jesus im serious where the hell did all these movie analysts come from?! Don’t get me wrong I adore all the analyses done on Puss In Boots The Last Wish but I’m starting to think that a bunch of college literature students went to the movie theater and picked a random movie to analyze and did the job like its worth their whole grade. I respect that a lot honestly.

It’s a great movie with great characters and seeing people who actually know how to put it in words is so…what do you say uhhh…satisfying? (Not native English speaker so yeah I do lack a big vocabulary development, but bear with me, also I’m no big amazing writer or analyst, this is just in the perspective of a very enthusiastic artist)

Every single analysis on Death is so “magical”, when i first saw the movie I didn’t think of Death as a villain an antagonist is what i would go with. He isnt pure evil, if he was he would have killed Puss regardless of his change of heart. He’s a character with morals and values he stands by and he’s more than anything a guy who wants to teach a lesson to a careless and egotistical cat, because thats what Puss is in the beginning, he was wasting his lives and Death was sick of it. I mean most only have one life to live and seeing how someone just wastes theirs must be infuriating, cuz come on Death can’t always LOVE his job right? (I’m almost certain he does enjoy it when it’s bringing justice or the person had it comin or it was just their time) No one would want to take the life of a little kid or an old person, even worse someone who doesn’t deserve it, but thats life, unfair.

This is badly written since im in a moving car and I literally just wanted to give my point of view on the movie too

It’s safe to say that this is gonna be my new hyper-fixation for the time being and youre all gonna have to endure MY analyses and character designs.

Anyway, sorry for blabbering so much have a great weekend!

[taegularities]

Rid, this maybe a small rant so bear w me pls >:(

I was having a conversation with my roommate in college yesterday about books and reading in general. She is picky when it comes to reading, mostly inclining towards romance and sub genres within the umbrella. While I believe that reading anything is a good practice, she is radical in her opinion. In the sense that she believes books which are officially published in a hardcover are credible enough to be called books or novels for the matter. Recently i revealed to her that I’ve been reading fan fiction for 3 years now and her reaction was… quirky? She thinks that fanfiction writers are still amateurs in writing, have no experience with editors and they only write as a hobby so they don’t put in as much effort as a novel writer would, so their stories are dumb when compared to novelists and best selling authors. I argued that fan fiction is not something to be looked down upon cause some people have put out excellent things to read and they do work hard on their plots and characters. Even if they are not accustomed to working with publishers and all but that doesn’t work as an authentic judgement that fanfic writers can’t be placed as the same level of some authors. Just putting out a book in hardcover doesn’t equate quality of a story, it only means you had access with some publishing house. The argument kinda took a sour turn cause she was unwilling to take in my pov so I asked her if you think fanfic writers suck then tell me which stories you have read in your entire lifetime which you consider masterpieces then i might recommend you some stories from my end to change your perspective. She texted me sometime ago and most of her list includes Colleen Hoover 😐 it kinda made me realize that in fact we as readers must have a fanfic phase in life otherwise we would place authors like CoHo with incredibly poor taste in writing on the pedestal and look down on underrated talents in the field of literature. I still can’t comprehend what does CoHo write in her books that attracts mass attention from people cause all she does is glorify toxic relationships and normalize it with her weak happy endings. I’ve read around 3 books from her and lemme tell you some of the bts fics on ao3 & tumblr deserved way better audience than she does. In my opinion, the only reasons books like these blow up is due to people who have a first time experience in reading and don’t really take much interest in reading, it’s disgraceful to way better writers who are overlooked cause they don’t suit the usual trend due to certain criteria they don’t fit in, the criteria being easy choice of vocabulary, some aesthetic corny words, incredible smut and bland character development. Maybe the lack of quality romance novels in bookstores has me caving into fanfics because I feel in some measures I’d rather spend a week completing works of a fanfic writer with amazing plots for free over spending dollars and wasting time on books I end up disliking because of their stuff characters having absolutely no growth or a potential plot going to waste.

rant anytime, love <3

oof, i don't know much about colleen hoover, so i can't judge.. but honestly, any kind of creative work should be appreciated. like, i used to be young adult girly myself, and got into writing like that, so i feel like none of us should drag down someone's effort (not talking about you, just in general!!). and like, as a fanfic author myself i do feel a bit bleh about your friend saying we are amateurs bc we don't work with publishers lol :') i've actually thought about this before. editors have so much work to do, like they need to perfect a story, right? i know it's different for us, but most beta readers i know do the same.. literally sit down and spend hours reading a fic to help a writer improve it (shoutout to you ily @missgeniality). tbh, i'd say agree to disagree with your friend and enjoy whatever you enjoy!! sometimes it's hard to explain a pov to someone. but tysm for standing up for fanfic authors, like i'm so happy you cherish them the way you do <3

[renaultmograine]

I lack the vocabulary to describe my emotions towards Hadrian and Royce's relationship in Riyria. Like. I don't ship them, there's nothing really romantic per se about them, but they undeniably love each other and it's absolutely insane to fucking listen to. They are literal soulmates. It's bananas.

That fucking unicorn thing. That thing that's a metaphor to compare their clashing world views, and how internally Royce disagrees because in his world view of people are only out for themselves, everyone is corrupt and lying and cheating and stealing, that there isn't any good in this world, here comes Hadrian who does good things for the sake of it and isn't punished by a cruel and unjust world for it. Here comes this unicorn that defies belief, that doesn't necessarily prove his world view wrong just because of how impossible it is to exist, and here it still is. And he's just a guy you're working with.

And then at the end of the book, Hadrian, whose world is full of unicorns and magic because he chooses to believe it so, goes and turns to his prickly grouch asshole coworker and says, "I know I won't die from this, because I believe in unicorns, and you're a particularly fast one :)" and I shove the fucking book in my mouth proverbially of course I'm listening to an audiobook.

And this is just such one minor instance out of so many. Royce decides he's going to tear a guy's throat out with his teeth because he thinks he killed Hadrian, and this reaction is after knowing the guy for like. eleven months. Hadrian gets repeatedly told that associating with Royce is like trying to tame a bear cub and expecting to not get mauled and later that's followed up with "I'm not going to torture you to death only because he said no." THE ENDING OF REVELATIONS? I'm biting and tearing. I'm eating the books. How am I expected to be normal reading this.