#its info that they have and they had provided it for you before but now they decided hey. :> its not important

[ravenwolfie97]

i can't sleep and i want to fight youtube

[todayisafridaynight]

There’s some really aggressive and really nasty people in the KH fandom when it comes to Sora or Riku being anything but straight.It’s…sad but really awful when they go to attack and send threats to queer shippers.

There’s a few queer RGG videos.However they share similar problems of the creator not knowing enough about topics/characters/etc, not expanding on stuff they really should, missing integral info, etc. One of these vids gave a very shallow reading to Kiryu of all people.

brother you coulda just stopped at 'really aggressive and really nasty people': its so perplexing how nasty they can get when KH is about friendship and loving and cherishing each other- though it is a disney property so i shouldnt be too surprised

oh word ?? again i aint ever seen these floatin round and i dont really go huntin for em. A for effort and all but its a shame the topics arent handled with greater care like they should be

[fatal-blow]

growing up, my mum always told me, whenever i went to the doctors or any sort of health professional, that it was important that i told them that i was hypermobile. she'd done the tests with me (herself being hypermobile and disabled in large part because of it) and though she didn't know the details, she knew that hypermobility was important to have in my health record.

so it was to my great surprise and displeasure that, whenever i told doctors i was hypermobile, it was skipped over. never addressed, never touched on, not even a comment to belie what that meant for me. i myself didn't know the impact hypermobility could have on a person, but my mother had been insistent about that fact. it was important, so why did no one else seem to think so?

i grew up with kids in school who were on the extreme ends of hypermobility. i knew a boy in middle school who could put both feet behind his head. i knew a girl in high school with long, spindly fingers who showed me how far backwards her arm could bend.

both of them had health problems, which became more profound as they aged. i never knew the details, but it stuck out that they were hypermobile, and so was i, and with my own health declining there HAD to be a connection.

common knowledge gives the vague definition of hypermobility as extra stretchy muscles, of being double-jointed. it comes with warnings not to push your hypermobile body into the extremes. don't overextend, you will hurt yourself.

the warnings are warranted. the importance isn't overplayed. these things i knew, but i didn't know why. and without knowing why, they were warnings that i could never truly obey, despite how conservative i became with my movements in a vain attempt to protect what little ability i had left.

hypermobility is NOT stretchy muscles. muscles are supposed to stretch. in fact, it's important to their health (those conservative movements prolly hurt more than helped!). hypermobility affects connectives tissues, and lands under the umbrella of Ehlers-Danlos Sydromes (there are a few) which can range in severity from affecting skin and tendons to affecting blood vessels and organs.

severity is rare, and much easier to catch. this post is for the people who are "a little hypermobile" so that they can understand what makes their body different.

a muscle and its associated tendons are like a hammock. the muscle is the fabric you lie in, stretching to accomodate the load. tendons are the rope that attaches the fabric to the trees, providing a secure anchor for the muscle to operate.

so, what happens when the ropes on the hammock are also stretchy? well, you sit in the hammock and your ass hits the ground.

now imagine that the fabric of the hammock has the ability to clench like a muscle. a normal hammock doesn't need to work that hard to stop ass from meeting ground, because it has sturdy anchors. a hammock with stretchy rope, however, must exert several times more effort, because the more the muscle pulls, the more the tendons stretch.

in short, hypermobility forces your muscles to work harder, because they must first pass the threshold of stretch the tendons are capable of before it can actually do the task it's meant to do. the stretchier the tendons, the harder the muscle needs to clench, the easier it is to overwork.

this info reframed everything i was doing with my body. small tasks of strength required the effort of much larger tasks, and larger tasks ranged from extremely difficult to impossible. holding my arms up so i could work above my head required monumental effort. with an anatomical peculiarity of the feet, i needed to use several muscles in my calves and hips just to stand without losing balance.

so no fucking wonder i crashed and burned in my 20s, when everything i did took all of my strength to accomplish. no wonder i would contort myself out of shape, so flexible that i could anchor myself into extreme poses just to give my muscles a moment of relief, overstretching myself without ever realizing why, and what damage i could be doing.

so, some things to remember:

overextending isn't good for you, but it shouldn't be your biggest concern. instead, be aware of overexertion, both how LONG you are using a muscle without breaks and how HARD you are using it.

small, frequent breaks are your best friend if you need to do something for awhile.

when you take breaks, stretch the muscles you'd been using.

if you need to exert effort to maintain a pose (whether it's sitting, standing, etc) examine whether you need to be clenching those muscles, and why.

actually whenever you are using muscles, try to train yourself to use as few as possible. you can practice by sitting or standing, and relaxing as many muscles as you can before you tip over. finding a sense of balance can make your life so much easier.

become acquainted with what relaxed muscles feel like. chronic tension can distort your perception of this, and result in habitual tension.

so yeah. if you're hypermobile, that's important. don't let a doctor's dismissal make you think otherwise. take care of yourself and know what you are and aren't capable of.

[tiredmamaissy]

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter Two

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, profanity, age gap, a lot of sexual tension, size difference/kink, praise kink, heat cycle, scenting, fingering, thigh grinding, cumshot, blood/wounds, recollection of non-con trauma (not heavily described - purely for the plot), let me know if i forgot anything?

Word Count: 8k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Satisfaction - Benny Benassi fully took me through this fic. This one's long. It's got fluff, angst, and smut in it. So buckle up. I hope you guys enjoy 🤍

Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.

<- Previous Next ->

Lessons were productive and frequent. You saw him almost daily, except on the days that Tonowari recruited him for his duties as warrior and hunter. Those were the days you dreaded most. The days when he’d traipse in exhausted and banged up. The days that made you start carrying your medicine pouch on your hip like it was a part of your body.

Days like today.

Ralak walks in moments before the eclipse, jaw clenched with a stagger in his step. You can sense the fracture in his spirit, another unpleasant hunting trip further inland. The gash in his shoulder is evidence of it. You rush over to him, hand firmly gripping your medicine pouch.

“Ra-lak!” your words come out broken, voice bouncing with each thud of your feet.

“It is fine.” he begins, head dropping to hide his grimace.

“It is not. Tonowari asks too much of you.” you huff, running over to him so fast you nearly bump into him. “Oh, Eywa. Look at you.” you tippy toe, eyes franticly scanning his bruised torso, hands doing their mighty best to move his body to have a better look.

“I said, it is –”

“Oh, Ralak.” you cut him off, grazing a finger over the inflamed skin, making his teeth grind even harder.  

“I’m fine. It is just a –”

“Just. Shh. Let me look... let me help you.” you shush him, your other hand brushing over the deep scrapes on his chest.

It’s laughable that he has to hunch his back just for you to have a proper ‘look’. But you didn’t find it funny. Your brows gather tightly at the sight, bottom lip quivering from the mix of emotions surging through you – anger, sadness, concern. Your innocent touches makes blood rush to his face, staining his cheeks a light tinge of pink. His heartbeat quickens - breath deepening.

His eyes remain locked onto you, quietly admiring your beauty. The way your nose scrunches, the little canines chewing on your bottom lip – the heave of your chest. He didn’t mean to let his eyes wander so low, but now that they were there, he couldn’t resist the urge to stare a little longer. To count the beads on your top.

To count the droplets of water trickling between your breasts.

You scoop up a glob of yalnabark, an omaticayan herb you saved for special times like this, and smear it on his chest. The sudden sting brings him back, snapping his gaze up to your screwed face of concern. It warms his heart, just like it did every time he’d come back from a hunting trip a little too banged up. He loved the way you took care of him. The way your small, gentle hands caressed his battered body with whatever smelly concoction you had stowed away in your pouch.

It's all he’s ever craved. Someone to take care of him. To cherish him. To love him. A simple life, in his marui pod he built with his two hands. Big enough for him and his mate, in front of the ocean so that he could fish in the mornings and then bond with his mate in the evenings. Where he could provide for his mate. For his family. To protect.

A mundane life to many, but a perfect life to him.

But rather, he has been recruited by the olo’eyktan himself, to be his right-hand man, to help lead and teach the upcoming hunters and warriors. He yearns for his old life as a fisherman.  Simple. Humble. But shortly after a run in with another clan, Tonowari made the order, and Ralak obeyed. It was at that point in his life that he relinquished his dream of a mundane life.

There’s a part of him, a part that he’s denied attention since he came to adulthood, that yearns for someone like you. Yearns for the possibility that you can provide this simple life for him. A mate. A home. Children. His heart gallops in his chest, slamming against his ribs, but you wouldn’t even know. Not by the way he’s looking at you. But there was one thing he knew for sure, and that was –

His feelings for you are indubitable.

“It is just a scratch.” he says softly, finally finishing his sentence. His hand instinctively rests on your hip as yours search his body for more wounds to smear the herbal concoction on.

“A scratch?” you huff a sigh, beady eyes boring into his before landing on the open gash in his shoulder. Blood trickles down his arm, staining the dark ink pricked under his skin. “You are bleeding. A lot.” you pout, glossy, amber saucers for eyes staring up at him, “…that must really hurt, karyu.”

He crumbles under your touch, gaze softening and body relaxing into you even more. “Do what you need, paysyul [water lily].”

That’s a new one. You smile to yourself and begin cleaning the open wound.

----

Funnily, the only thing you had left to master before your iknimaya was the sign language of the sea people. The ‘finger talk’. Perhaps it was because you had an extra finger, but you found it difficult to create and string together all the signs. Ralak determined that you would need an entire week to learn it, which you couldn’t help but scoff at.

But, he just didn’t want to let go of you so soon.

It was the only thing you practiced outside of the water. It was a refreshing change, to feel the fine, pillowy sand between your toes. To not be wet all the time with hair clung onto your skin. Undoubtedly, it was also easier to focus when this man didn’t have his loincloth stuck to himself, thick bulge on full display.

Most of the days began with you prancing on over, and him guiding you to the pit of sand right outside his marui. Bringing you to your knees with a slight tug of your arms, then kneeling with you. And soon you would be facing one another, in comfortable silence, staring into each other’s eyes. It seemed to be his favourite part of the day. To watch you be brought to your knees in front him, even if its only for a split second before he joined you.

He took each day slowly, starting with the most basic signs. Going over them twice. Thrice. Just to ‘make sure’ you knew them. By the middle of the week, he established his first rule. No talking. From the hellos to the goodbyes, everything must be signed. And if you spoke in casual conversation, he would not answer. This made it even more difficult to poke your figurative finger at him. To find out more about this man before you had to part ways. You did your best to abide by this rule, until you couldn’t ignore the itch anymore.

So, you scratched it.

--

Ralak balls his fist in the middle of his chest, extending it outwards as he opens it and wiggles his fingers.

“Thank you!” you blurt out, straightening your spine and smiling wide.

Ralak gives you a firm nod, quick to move to the next sign. He sweeps his hands away from his forehead, extending them towards you.

“I see you” your voice fades, almost as if you were saying it seriously. Sensually.

He smiles a little, giving you another nod. A moment of silence fills the space between you two. A moment where he just stares, allowing his eyes to trail your body. The way your knees sink into the sand. Your small hands resting on your thighs. The flap of your loincloth draping between your legs. He wants to sign it back. So badly. But you were still his student. His numeyu [student].

He knew he could do it – maintain his composure, that is. Just until after your iknimaya at least. And then he would ask Jake and Tonowari for your hand. He’s patient. Confident in himself that he could do this. Which is why he had to get you out of the water for a while. To stop your breasts from bouncing with the tide, and your nipples from peeking through your beaded top.

“C’mon, give me something harder. I know those.” you break the silence, repositioning yourself in the dip of your feet. 

Ralak blinks a few times, reentering his train of thought. He nods with a slight smile and raises both his arms, hands at ear level with his pointer fingers straightened in the air. He quickly brings them together, allowing for a little space between his fists. He cocks his brow, waiting for your answer.

“Siv-ako?” the word is broken, full of uncertainty.

“Ah. That’s a good girl.” he speaks for the first time, voice extra husky and gruff. He couldn’t fight it – the urge to praise you. Honestly, he’s having a hard time fighting a lot of his ‘urges’ today. He takes a deep breath, hoping to recenter himself, but it only seems makes things worse – making him light in the head.

Oh? Good girl?

The words echo in your skull, heart beating a thump too quick. You can’t stop rub of your thighs; they’re doing it all on their own. You hide your flushed face, looking down at how your lap squirms about, only making your cheeks hotter. Your body seems to be extra sensitive today, skin prickling at the slightest touch – the mere sound of his voice.

“Ralak.” you practically pant, raising your head to look at him. ‘What is the sign for m-a-t-e?’ you sign, fingerspelling the last word.  

The glow in your cheeks is catching, heat spreading to the tips of his ears. He swallows thickly, taking quick, shallow breaths to prevent himself from becoming anymore light-headed. He signs a similar sign as ‘friends’, but instead of all four fingers, he uses only two [I made this shit up].

Your lips pucker in understanding as you nod slowly, holding your hands in the air, carefully creating the motions with your fingers. The figurative - or not so figurative anymore - finger comes out to play.

‘Do you have a mate?’ you sign.

He cocks a brow, ‘No’.

‘Why? Not hiding one in your marui?’ you sign back.

His brows gather, yet a smile creeps on his face. He’s impressed with you, signing so well for him. He entertains the conversation – your snarky comments – curious to see where you’re going with this. ‘No.’ he scoffs a little, shaking his head.

You stare at him in silence, waiting for the reason why.

He tilts his head, half lidded eyes turning beady. ‘My trust was broken.’

Your brows lower in inquisitiveness, or perhaps confusion. Maybe you misread what he signed. ‘Broken? Who?’ you sign, stressing on the ‘who’.  

His eyelids flutter a little, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he huffs out a sigh. His way of expressing hesitation – uncertainty if he should open-up. To let you in. To tell you. You try reassuring him with your eyes, letting him know it’s alright to tell you. He briefly looks out to the horizon before looking back at you. His hands raise once more.

‘A woman who used me.’

You shake your head, unable to fully understand what he means. You understand the signs, but a woman using him? In what way? To carry her belongings? ‘Use you how?’

Now his true expression of hesitation comes forth. Flattened ears, slumped shoulders and brows so tightly pinched they may unify. If he told you, what would happen? Would you look at him the same? Would you accept his offer after your iknimaya? The event replays so vividly he feels like he’s back in the moment.

The moment where an older woman he trusted manipulated him into touching her, to fondle her, when he didn’t want to. When she made him feel like he had no other choice, like he couldn’t say no, or walk away. Young, naïve Ralak. At the merciless hands of her...

‘Heat’.

And just like that, his expert façade of indifference washes over his face. You can literally see him retreat, the crack in his spirit splitting further apart. Like recalling the memory put him back into the moment to feel the hurt of what he just signed.

Meanwhile, your gears were grinding twice as hard to figure out his single sign. You mirror the motion, fingers bending and overlapping slowly to figure it out. You couldn’t even guess. It looked nothing like any other sign you had seen before. Defeated, you shake your head and shrug your shoulders.

“I-I don’t understand, karyu.”

Eyelids fluttering momentarily, a blank stare bores into your eyes. “Heat.” he says the word whilst gesturing the sign. “She used me for her heat. Many years ago. I was... young.” he begins explaining, trying to maintain eye contact with you as it drifts down to your lap. 'Naïve' he signs the last word.  

You hear the words he’s saying. ‘Used’, ‘Young’, ‘Naïve”.

Yet all you could feel was the fire in your own heart. A blaze so big, so menacing it spills over into your chest. Making it cave in on itself. Like hairline fractures are running through each rib, making the foundation of your chest crumble. Jagged edges impaling your heart, the fire spread throughout your entire being.

Why did it hurt so much to hear that this grown man had sexual experience? Why did your heart ache at the thought of him with someone else? Was he always this way? A man willing to calm any na’vi he encounters in heat?

It just slips out.

“So what? Any na’vi woman in heat that you come across gets your help?” you snap, eyes burning from the tears that threaten to fill them.

Eywa, that stung.

It stung this gentle giant so bad that he grimaces. Like really grimaces. His top lip twitches, seemingly from anger. Anger at himself for telling you. He grinds his teeth so hard he may chip one. His head drops, eyes slamming shut to focus on calming that budding tightness in his own chest.

“Y/n” he growls, one of the few times he’s called you by your name.

You’ve come to learn that it usually means he’s frustrated with you. How could he be frustrated with you? He had no right. You can’t hold back the scoff bubbling up your throat, the shake of your head and the roll of your eyes.

“I guess that means you’ll help me when I’m in heat then, won’t you?”

He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as he finally shuffles to his feet. He towers over your kneeling frame now, exuding the same level of intimidation when you first met. He’s trying his hardest to hold his tongue, but the words slip off it so effortlessly.

“Have you even gotten your heat yet?” he asks patronizingly.

There the tears go, rolling down the swell of your cheeks. Of course, you hadn’t. You were a late bloomer in all aspects of life, even this one.

But why were you feeling so sensitive about all of this? So moody and vulnerable? To the point of tears and condescending comments. It’s silly, really. Prying your nose into this grown man’s life only to get upset with him when he lets you in. Like you were anything special to him for you to be feeling this way.

He had never seen you cry before. Not like this. It melts his hardened heart, softening his exterior with it. You’re still young, still learning. He had let his feelings get the best of him, allowing his composure to break down for a split second. It doesn’t help that he was quite literally looking down at you, towering over your tiny stature.

‘I’m sorry’, he signs. “I should not have said that.”

“Don’t be. You’re r-right. I haven’t.” you sputter, breath hitching from your crying. “Almost twenty with no heat. Just a big fuck up.” you stand on your feet, turning your heel to leave.

“You should not be walking by yourself right now –” he begins, walking towards you, but you only walk away faster. “Tanhì!” he calls, voice cracking.

You stop dead in your tracks and turn back to look at him, tears streaming down your face. “Don’t call me that, Ralak.”

Dark grey clouds crowd the sky, darkening the ambiance. He opens his mouth to speak when a clap of thunder pierces the air. The sound of distant rain grows louder. With his attention averted to the sky, you take your chance and run. All the way back to your family marui as fast as your two left feet can go.

Downpour.

So hard and heavy you can barely see where you’re going. It’s so foggy and hazy that you cross your fingers and hope the marui pod you’re walking into is your own. Yanking back the flap, you duck under the doorframe, dripping wet. Jake and Neteyam stop their dinner preparations and look at you. They see the tears streaming down your face.

“Babygirl?” Jake rushes to his feet, voice frantic.

“Is it Ralak?” Neteyam snarls.

“Just, leave me alone.” you spit, hiding away into your little corner, pulling back your privacy curtain. You slump into your bed, burying your face into the pillow you made from feathers, and cried your eyes out, listening to the pitter patter of the rain on the taut material of your marui.

How fucking embarrassing. You always fuck up, y/n.

How could you be so stupid? To think that there was meaning behind the nicknames, the hugs... the moments. He’s just a teacher trying to tutor his pupil. His pupil that could never get shit right. That’s why he was so patient. So sweet. It was all just an order given by the chief. Not only that, but you were wrong. Totally in the wrong to even ask him such a personal question. But to throw it in his face after he opened-up about it?

Eywa, y/n. You stupid girl.

You feel terrible. Guilt filling your stomach to the brim that you feel queasy. It’s an uncomfortable feeling. So uneasy that you feel like you may throw up. You curl into a ball, clutching your knees as you bring them to your chest to cry.

And cry. And cry. And cry.

Until your eyes are so puffy, so raw that you can barely see. Until there’s two of everything. Your head begins to pound. Thump. Thump. Thump. Your eyes and teeth pulse with it. Yet all that’s running through your mind is Ralak. Ralak. Ralak.

How you feel so bad about what you said, about what happened to him. Not giving him the chance to speak before jumping down his throat. After he’s been nothing but patient with you. Handling you with care and gentle hands. Encouraging you with his words, albeit few. Letting you in when he had built such a tall, thick wall.

Letting you touch him – touch his most intimate tattoo.  

The way his core flexed to jerk his hips away from you. The sound of his grunts when he’s a little frustrated. Flustered. Especially when you tend to his wounds. When you run your fingers along his body, searching for more scrapes and ‘scratches’. The way he looks at you when he’s counting your freckles.

When he calls you tanhì.

Whenever the word slipped off his tongue, it always made your face hot. Just like now. Blushing at the mere thought. Cheeks heating up to a critical degree. Body heating up with it. It feels like you’re on fire – a scorching heat radiating from your core to your extremities. It feels like a fever dream.

Or perhaps it’s just a fever. Sick from the rain, as they would say. Making you shiver and shake, yet also kick off the sheet that’s covering your body. Maybe it was the swoosh of the heavy rain, but you couldn’t hear your own thoughts. All you wanted to do was to make things right. To apologize for your shitty behaviour.  

You had to do it. Now.

A surge of good ol’ determination rushes through you, bringing you to your feet. You wipe the snot off your face and rush out the tent, Jake and Neteyam calling after you. Saying something about the eclipse beginning. A storm forming. You can’t really hear them. It’s all an echo, reverberating in your skull. You wave them off and make quick strides towards his marui.

You feel dizzy. Like the world is spinning around you but it didn’t matter. You’re too focused on making things right. Getting rid of this queasiness. Fixing the one good thing you had for yourself in this wetland. Sand spills between your toes, you can feel it. You’re here.

“Ralak!” you try to shout, only for it to come out as a hoarse cry. “Ralak!”

You look around through blurred vision, the ocean is empty. Of course, it is. The ripple of raindrops piercing the water, the furious push and pull of the tide, the waves that crash violently into the shore – it’s storming. Head snapping to the right, you find that his marui is dark, seemingly with nobody home.

Where is he?

Eyes falling on your own feet, you catch sight of deep footprints in the wet sand, leading inland under the tall mangroves. Tracking the impressions, you find yourself standing at the opening of a cave, tucked away deep into the webs of mangrove roots. A hidden spot, with a lake, lit up by the bioluminescent fauna stuck to the stalagmites hanging from the ceiling. When you see him, it’s like your vision clears. Crystal clear. He’s –

Bathing.

Standing thigh deep in the water, wet hair stuck to his chest. His bioluminescent freckles twinkle brightly, reflecting against the water’s surface. His ears are tucked in, relaxing against his skull, eyes lidded and heavy. Tattoos bold and prominent, they accentuate his muscular physique. Gravity of pandora in full motion, water droplets dribble down his body. Down his jaw. His chest. His stomach. His –

Oh, fuck.  

You tell your eyes to move. To look away. Close. Anything. But they don’t. They stare. Taking in every detail of his thick, half-hard cock, partially submerged in the water. You come to the realization of how he never actually showed you his full tattoo, as the ends of it encircled the base of his length. Eywa, he’s huge. You swallow thickly at the sight, cheeks growing even hotter.

“Ralak.” a whisper parts your lips, eyelids fluttering wildly before you can pull your eyes away. “Sorry. I-I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No need.” he mutters, continuing his bath.

He knew you were standing there all this time. He could sense you. Smell you. And Eywa, it took every bone and fiber in his body to maintain the sliver of composure he has left. He isn’t shy about his body and honestly, didn’t mind if you saw.

He turns to you, flicking his gaze up to meet yours, pupils blown. “You should go home, y/n.” he says as calmly as he can.

“Ralak. I’m sorry for what I said to you. I had no right.” you say, turning your head to look away from his body. It only made things worse for you, making the wooziness unbearable. Making you struggle with your words. “I-I don’t know why I got so upset. I’m not sure –”

“You are sensitive right now. I am not... upset.” he states, accent thick as tree sap.

“What?” you blurt out, looking back at him as you walk into the cave.

Sensitive? What does he mean?

“Y/n. You should go home.”

Hearing your name makes your heart sink. You wish you never told him to stop calling you tanhì. “What do you mean?”

“Look. I am sorry about what I said to you, y/n. But you need to go home.” he says through gritted teeth, as if he were having a hard time withholding his 'anger'.

“No. No. Ralak. I-I’m sorry, too. I just – I want to make this right. I-I feel like I can’t even think clearly right now. But I know that I made a mistake. I’m sorry.” you blubber out, entering the water to walk closer to him.

“Y/n” he growls, stepping back a little. “Please. You said it yourself. You cannot think clearly.”

“Ralak.” you croak, tears welling up in your eyes once more.

Blown pupils peer down at you, eyelids so heavy they look like they may close. “Go.”

Your bottom lip trembles, heart aching from him shooing you away. It feels like your throat is closing, vision blurring so badly that you could barely see him. You try to say the words, only for them to catch in your throat.

‘I was jealous.’ you sign, tears flowing down your cheeks. ‘I was wrong. I am no one to you to be upset with you for being with another.’ you string the words together to the best of your abilities, unsure if they even make sense.

“Oh, y/n. It is not as you think. I have not... given myself to anyone.” he struggles to explain, the heat of your body transferring to his. “Please, do not cry.” his voice falters, brows lowering, blown pupils flickering as they search your puffy face.

Relief. Radiating through your body. Your body yearned for him now, more than ever. For him to be your first. For you to be his first. To mate.

“Then w-what?” the words dislodge from your throat.

“She took advantage of me. Coerced me. But never farther than this” he raises his hand, moving his fingers.  

“Karyu. I’m so sorry. I-I would never –” you cry, gripping two of his fingers.

“Shh. It is alright. I’m sorry, too” he hushes you, bringing your hand to his chest.

“I feel so... so overwhelmed right now. I don’t u-understand it.” your teeth begin to chatter as you finally close the gap between your bodies, slumping into him for one of his hugs. “I think have feelings for my karyu.”

He embraces you, holding you close to his body. “And I have fallen for my numeyu” he chokes out, having a hard time catching his own breath.

Your head snaps up, glossy, panicked eyes glaring up into his. You have a hard time processing what he’s saying, all you can see is the strain on his face as he tries his hardest to remain calm.

“Mawey. Mawey [calm]. Everything is heightened for you now. You’re alright.” he hums shakily, rubbing your back.

“I feel... s-so weird, so hot.” you hiccup, taking those deep breaths that you normally take when you hug him, overfilling your lungs with his scent.

It smells so good today. So good you wish you could bathe in it. Coat your body in his scent. You rub your face into his chest, trying to smear it on your skin. It calms you down, steadying your galloping heart and slowing your shaky breaths. 

“Tanhì.” he heaves a strained sigh, heavy lidded eyes squeezing tightly.

“Lak.” you breathe, body pressing into his.  

“Do you want me to?” he whispers, arm snaking around your waist to bring you closer.

“Hm?” you purr into his chest, rubbing your thighs together.

“Do you want me to help you when you get your heat?” he gruffly pants the words.

This morning replays in your head. All the hurtful words you said to him and the question that came shortly after.

‘I guess that means if I’m in heat then you’ll ‘help’ me then, won’t you?’

“Yes, please.” you exhale, head nodding in his chest.

With that, he holds your trembling body closer, allowing himself to take a full breath, filling his lungs with your scent. Your pheromones. This is the first time he’s letting himself savour them. He’s been picking up your scent all day, trying his hardest not to give into his primal urges to scent you himself – to mark you as his. Eywa, it’s divine. It’s so sweet, and fruity. Nothing like the fruits of the sea.  

His scent grows stronger, his body simply responding to yours. His pheromones make you feel feverish, skin prickling from the fingertips that graze your waist. Your heart thumps wildly between your ribs just as your double vision sets in. A sharp heat shoots down your spine, and pools in your core. Soon you’re panting and sweating in his arms, shaking uncontrollably as you squeeze your trembling legs tighter.

It frightens you.

“Ralak. I-I don’t know w-what’s – happening to me. What’s – what’s happening to me?” you blubber, voice full of panic.

“It is your heat, tanhì.”

“My h-heat?” you squirm in his chest, rubbing your body all over his – unknowingly scenting him.

“Mm-mhm.” he hums, fingers working at the knot of your loincloth. “Is this okay?”

“Yes. Yes.” you moan softly, legs parting to help him take the soddened cloth off you.

Once the knot comes undone, the cloth floats freely in the water, drifting away from you. In one swift movement, he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist. Another breathy moan parts your lips, your clit finally getting the attention it’s been swelling for. You instinctively cling on to him, snaking your arms around his neck.

He supports your body with one hand under your upper thigh, whilst his free hand cups the back of your head, fingers interlacing with your hair. For a moment, you both indulge yourselves in each other’s scent, rubbing your noses into one another’s neck. It’s almost suffocating. So suffocating that you both pull up simultaneously to gasp for air. Pupils completely blown, you stare into each other’s eyes, panting shakily – lips inching closer and closer together.

He lingers there, flushed lips parted, waiting patiently for your move. For your touch. For your command. You couldn’t take it anymore. The tension is strung too tight that you can feel it in your core, about to snap. Your foreheads touch, noses rubbing together, lips brushing against one another.

“Kiss me.” you mewl needily.

Before you know it, his lips crash into yours roughly, almost bruising them. He’s so hungry for you. For your touch. He’s wanted this for so, so long. Peak of your heat quickly approaching, he wills himself to regain his control. To take it easy with you on your first time.

“My paysyul.” he pants into your mouth, tongue swiping against your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth.

You hum with fervour, allowing your tongue to explore his mouth – to intertwine with his. His fingers untangle from your hair, and cup your cheek, pulling you in closer to deepen the kiss. Soon you’re sharing the same breath, making everything even more hazy.

A large hand slides down your neck and grips it gently, earning him a sudden, breathy moan. Legs tightening around his waist, your hips stutter on their own, desperately trying to find something hump against.

Reading your needy body language, his hand quickly moves down your chest, pulling up one side of your beaded top to reveal your round breast and peaked nipple. He rolls it between his fingers as gently as possible, sending little shocks throughout your breast. The sensation sends your hips into a frenzy, gliding your clit back and forth over each ab muscle.

“Ugh – oh!” you cry out, jaw locking as your mouth hangs agape. Your wetness is overflowing, coating his stomach in a thick layer of slick. The jerk of your hips becomes easier, gliding up and down his stomach even faster. Your teeth click together, eyes watering as you desperately chase the budding feeling in your core.

The little, filthy sounds coming from your mouth only rile him up more, ebbing away more of his restraint. His cock springs up, swollen head smacking against your thigh, quick movements providing just enough friction on his tip, making his hips stammer too. Soon your bodies fall under the trance of your heat, desperately grinding into one another.  

The urge to touch, no – to be inside you is overwhelming. He wants to know how your gummy walls feel around his cock. But he knows that your too small to take him, that he would have to stretch you out first. Prepare your little body so it wouldn’t hurt.

His hand works its way from your breast, down to your stomach where he lingers for some time. His fingers play in the dip of your navel as they slide between your sticky pelvis and his stomach, parting your folds carefully. Hips snapping back, you open yourself up to his touches, resting your chin in the dip of his collarbone.   

“This okay?” he asks quickly, fingertips finding the bundle of nerves at the peak of your slit.

“Mm-mhm! Please -” you whine lengthily, frustration so pent up it leaves you breathless.

“Breathe, tanhì.” he hums, fingers rubbing tight circles into your clit.

You gasp for air, a cool sensation filling your lungs. It feels so good – so much better than the way you do it before you go to sleep. You try hard to focus on the budding feeling in your core, to chase it so you can finally know what an orgasm feels like. But this was just another thing that you struggled with.

“Used fingers before?” he huffs in your ear, sliding two fingers down to your entrance.  

“T-tried it... once.” you admit timidly.

“How many?” he rasps, pulling a finger back into his palm, leaving only one to prod at your slit.

His strong scent disorients you, leaving you in such a befuddled state that you ignore his question and snuggle into the crook of his neck.

“Tell me, tanhì. Quickly.” he pants.

“One.” you mumble, grazing your canines on his pulsing throat as you suckle on his skin, leaving behind a bruise-like mark. Surely one of his is equivalent to almost two of yours. He knew that this was going to hurt if he didn’t take his time with you and let you fully adjust to something inside you.

“Tell me if you feel pain.” he grunts, sliding his finger inside you to the first knuckle. You let out a little whimper, walls clamping tightly around his finger. “Feel okay?”

You nod franticly, burying your grimaced face into his chest. “Mhmm.” You wiggle your hips, desperately trying to take more of him inside you. He follows your movements, ensuring not to slide it in any further just yet. “M-more please”

“Patience, tanhì”

You’ll admit, it burned a little. It was the biggest stretch you’ve had so far, but the slickness of your heat made it so that his finger slid in easily. “Please. It. It feels... feels weird, Ralak.”

“I know, I know.” he coos, feeling your walls relax around his knuckle. “I'm going to make it go away, take a breath for me.”

You inhale deeply, just as you would before a breathing lesson, holding it deep in your stomach rather than your chest. He slides his finger inside you to his second knuckle, keeping it there while you adjust some more. Your grip around his neck tightens, fingernails digging into his turquoise skin just as you release your breath - blowing hot air onto his chest. The way his finger stretches you out brings tears to your eyes. Tears of ecstasy - of satiation. Satiating an itch that you weren’t even aware of.

“More!” Desperation plagues your trembling voice.

He knows better than to listen to the words that come out your mouth and listen to what your body is saying to him instead. It’s not his first time dealing with a na’vi in heat, albeit by force. It feels so similar, the influence your heat has on him. But yours is so much more intense. Feelings of uncertainty creep in, muddling with all the other emotions he’s trying to deal with. He didn’t want to be used again.

She’s not her. He reminds himself, persevering through the hesitancy. “Ready?”

“Yes. Yes Ralak.” You hold on to him tighter - closer.

Your pheromones already had him in a trance, gritting his teeth just so he could maintain his composure. He’d never been influenced by pheromones like this - so strong and potent. Perhaps it’s because it’s your first heat, or maybe it’s because you’re the na’vi he has the urge to protect most – to mate with.

He finds himself taking deep, long breaths. The kind he takes before going spear fishing in the depths of the ocean. Your scent fills his head, making him woozy. Blood rushes to his face, turning it hot and flushed – stained with a tinge of pink. Oh, to make a gentle giant like Ralak blush.

He exhales as he gently slides the rest of his digit inside of your slippery pussy. You both groan in unison, just as your tightness clamps down around his finger - your nails scraping down his back. You’re so, so wet that your glossy, slick coats his knuckles, dribbling down his hand to his wrist.

“Shit.” he lets out a curse, something he rarely does. “How are you this wet?”

He really shouldn’t compare, but he’s never seen a na’vi in heat so soaked. You couldn’t help it really, your feelings for him are so strong that they feel overwhelming at times. Times like right now, where your feelings overflow and have nowhere else to go but between your legs, making a mess all over your thighs. “S-sorry” you pant, your soft, petite body shuddering in his grasp.

“Never apologize for that.”

The first curl of his finger earns a loud, sudden moan from your throat, just as his grip on the fleshiness of your thigh tightens. His cock is so painfully hard, turning veiny and almost blue. All he wants to do is replace his finger with his cock but, he can’t. Not when you’re this tight. The way your gummy walls grip so tightly around his finger makes it hard to even move it.

“Ra-lak” the word momentarily catches in your throat just as he curls his finger once more.

“Mm?” He hums, eyes squeezed shut, brows gathering.

“Ngh – feels... s-so good. Please.” you beg quietly, squeezing his waist with your legs as your body tries to shove his finger deeper inside you.

“There it is.” he grunts, listening to your body’s commands.

He roughly furls and unfurls his finger inside you, rubbing the pad of his fingertip against the warm, spongey part of your cunt. Each hook of his finger works out a squelching noise, and a breathy mewl from your mouth. Soon you’re panting into his chest, trying to keep your soft moans to a minimum as he picks up the pace.

There was really no point, as the more he fucks you out with a single finger, the more your moans lose their softness. His ears perk up higher and higher as the volume of your sweet, filthy moans grow louder and louder, making his rock-hard cock twitch against your thigh.

Your sweet spot swells with pleasure, moans becoming deeper and strained. He knows you’re close. So close that you were going to cum on his finger any minute, just by the way your pussy walls clench tightly around his finger. He feels the tension in your body, the way it seizes up, trying to fight the unbearable heat pooling in your pelvis. His dazed eyes open, scent of your pheromones wafting up his nose as he lowers his head, mouth next to the shell of your ear.

“Don’t fight it.” he whispers.

Your moans quiet down into low, laboured pants as you try to relax your tensed muscles. You’re having a hard time, and he can sense it.

“Let it happen, my paysyul. I'm right here.” he hums, using his thumb to rub loose, slow circles into your puffy clit.

“Mmmn! I-I can’t. Ra – ah haah, ngh! ‘ts t-too much – too much!” your shaky breaths hiccup as you shake your head side to side in his chest. 

“Cum for your karyu.” he encourages you, tightening the circles and picking up the speed of his thumb.

Of course, your karyu would be the one to teach you how to cum.

The sound of his husky voice in your ear sends you over the edge – heated coil unravelling, stomach muscles relaxing. It’s as if your body were responding to his command all on its own. This foreign feeling was just too good – too euphoric. You pull up suddenly from his chest, gasping for air as your entire body convulses in his grip.

“Oh, f-fuck!” you shout, tears streaming down your face.

“There you go. Good girl.” he grunts low in his chest.

He relishes in the quick flutter of your pussy walls around his finger. The way your cum dribbles down his arm. The way you’re staring into his eyes with your mouth open, releasing silent screams into the air. He can feel the beads of precum oozing from his tip, dripping down his pulsing length and onto his swollen balls.

He keeps his finger buried deep inside you, waiting patiently for you to come down from your high. Your sputtering broken words into his ear, body going limp in his grip. He could tell it was time to get you comfortable for the long night ahead. Ralak moves quickly through the storm, bringing you up to his marui.

A whine splits your lips when he tenderly pulls his finger out of you, laying you down on his bed. It’s so warm and cozy, soft sheeting fluffed up around your shivering body. You give in to the pull of your eyelids, resting them for a couple seconds. Ralak settles himself behind you, pressing his body against yours and wrapping his arms around your waist.

It feels so good, so right. The way his body completely envelopes yours, acting as your own personal shield. You back yourself up onto him, rubbing the swell of your ass on his cock – glossy from his precum. Your body moves on its own, a hand sliding down his crotch to wrap your fingers around his girth.

Fingertips barely touching one another, you stroke half the length of his cock, feeling it warm up in your hand. His breath is heavy and hot, right in the shell of your ear. He nuzzles his face into your neck, peppering wet kisses down to your shoulder. Eywa, how you wanted him to be inside you, filling you up and making you feel full.

There’s a dull ache, deep in your womb. So deep that only something this big could make it go away. Every bone and fiber in your body is screaming for you to shove his cock inside. It’s so loud you can’t ignore them anymore, the need to be fucked.

“Lak.” you mumble, half awake.

“Mm?” he hums with fervour, cock finally getting the attention it’s been begging for.

“Want you inside.” you breathe, positioning his swollen tip to your entrance.

His hips snap back, pulling himself away from you. “Not today.”

“Please.” you whine, backing up on him once more. “My body n-needs you.”

“It will hurt, tanhì.” he mumbles between kisses, holding your hips to push them away. “Another day.”

You didn’t want to take no for an answer. Your body pined for him to stretch you out and fill you up. Your back arches as you slump your head back into his shoulder, opening your neck to his kisses. “Please, please.” you beg,

“Not when you are in heat. Not when we are not mated.” he groans, reluctantly pulling his aching cock away from your soft pussy lips.

“F-fuck. I can’t take this. I can’t. It’s – it’s too much. Please, Ralak.” you whine, squirming around from the sensation in your womb, lying on your back.

“Mawey. We will get through this.” he coos, sliding his hand down your stomach to your cunt.

Instinctively, your legs spread, welcoming the fingers that slide up and down between your folds. He slides a finger in easily, hooking it right into the gummy part of your heat, slowly massaging circles into it. He grinds his cock into your thigh, coating it with his own slick as he works yet another orgasm out of you.

“Just like last time” he coaches you through it, your breathy moans increasing in volume. “Relax, and let it happen” his words bounce with the thrust of his hips, chasing his own climax against your slickened thigh. Your walls contract, just as they did when you were about to cum. And then you lose it, walls suddenly relaxing around his digit.

“Again. Listen to your body.” he grunts, planting an encouraging kiss behind your ear.

Focusing on the budding feeling, your hands grip his veiny forearm, using it as leverage to hump his hand. You let go, allowing your body to take over. Head sinking back into the softness of the bed, you grind erratically into his hand.

“I’m close – s-so close!” you cry out, eyes popping open as your body tenses.

“Good girl, ride it out.” his voice is thick with desire, shaky from the buck of his hips. He’s on the edge, forcing himself to wait for you to cum before he does. Your hips lift in the air, his hand following with them. “Go on, let go.”

“Ra – lak! Cumming! Cumming!” you release a sudden, strained whine.

Just as your pussy walls flutter around his finger, he quickly slides a second one in, masking the pain of the stretch with the pleasure of your orgasm. With two fingers deep inside your cunt, your body convulses from satiation and pleasure, feeling stuffed to the brim.  

“That’s it.” He growls low in his chest, eyes squeezing shut as he gives your thigh a few hard thrusts. Guttural noises picking up in volume and bass, he listens to his own body, spurting his warm, thick cum all over your thigh and stomach. He opens his eyes, to see a jaded look on your face as you calm down from your heat.

“I love you, my tanhì” he mumbles in your ear, fingers still inside you.

“I love you, my karyu.” you barely get out, eyelids falling shut.

He leans over you, using his free hand to grab the cloth next to his bed to clean you up with. He knew better than to take his fingers out of you, and to think that this was all over. It was only the beginning of a long night ahead.

And oh Eywa, it was.

Every few hours, you’d wake up sweating and squirming from your heat, backing yourself up onto Ralak’s warm body, begging for his touches. He’d be quick to oblige, curling the fingers that remain inside you for the entire night, making you cum as many times as you wanted. The only thing he wouldn’t give into were your pleas to be fucked. That was one thing he maintained his composure about.

----

“Y/n. For the love of Christ, you better tell me that the storm held ya up last night.” Jakes voice rings in your ear, waking you up.

Oh shit.

Tag list: @azaleaniath @jakexneytiri @sweethoneycn @deadgirl02 @keijis-wifey @pandorxxx @swiftielivvie @teyamfangirl @avatar-lover @sooebear @vanillawhale @bxnnywriting @athenachu @trashboat-the-raccoon @avaixe @qweq-6802 @girlpostingsposts @erinloversworld @agelsully @zestys-stuff @raaaaainn  @eywascall @yawneneteyam @weirdomcu @pandxrastars @eichenhouseproperty @camgod78 @kibiscribbles @bedofpearls @kurtsworld096 @audrinawf @otukirey @deexdeez @c78r @bby-bo @neteyamsmate4life @wheniseeyouigogonutz @sullymenrhot @jakescumdump @erenjaegerwifee @eywaheardyou @saturnheartz @lovekeeho @afro-hispwriter @lovemyavatar @rainbowsocks @eddiesluvt @etherialblackrose @sleepilysworld @fezandashgirlfriend @kahlowy @babyymeme @lovekeeho

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[naffeclipse]

Petal

Botanist!Reader x Naga!Eclipse

Commission Info

This little fic was such a delight to write and I'm so happy @bluemoon1331 commissioned me for some good ol' Blackwater Lure (naga) Eclipse. Toss in a botanist reader to pair with this handsome snake and you have quite the pairing and a little smooching in the jungle!

Content Warning for suggestive themes.

———

You swat a buzzing insect swirling around your ear before huffing. The humidity is thick like rain but not a drop falls from the blue-white sky in the middle of a bright, brilliant day. The green canopy overhead provides mottled shade. Despite this, a thin sheen of sweat glistens on your forehead. Swiping underneath the stiff brim of your boonie hat, you draw in another sweltering lungful before pressing down on the camera button to finish capturing a picture of a brilliant cluster of heliconia flowers. The picture is basic, but you only need one for reference in your study.

Common and brightly colored, the bracts of the flower form a beak-like shape which are often called lobster claws. You prefer the name heliconia. It’s far more fitting for the stunning, tropical blossom. 

The deep green stem stands tall and sprouts the flowers high, allowing you to stay standing on your feet as you sweep your camera aside and reach for your notebook. The pages are rimmed with your observations and small, simple sketches of each flora you have studied throughout your stay here in the jungle. Michael and Vanessa seem to appreciate your craft though don’t pursue the same interests. Their place here on the fridges of the wild, feral jungle is a fleeing mystery, but you hope they’re enjoying the beautiful, lush ecosystem as much as you are.

You lift your head at the sound of a steady hum whizzing through the air. A tiny creature floats, its wings blurring with the speed of its flight, and dips low to sip at the nectar of the heliconia. A smile spreads softly over your lips. 

Hummingbirds are drawn to the sweet taste of this flowering plant. The small fowl’s feathers shine with an iridescent blue and green. Another flit by. This one pauses just long enough for you to spy its ruby throat. You lower your book for just a moment. Sometimes you get lost in your botany—unable to see the flowers for the petals—but now and then a creature who loves the plants as you do gives a gentle reminder to admire the brilliant red and deep green colors for a moment. 

Another hummingbird with a wonderfully rare purple sheen and gray body buzzes over to a nest. You jot down a gentle note of what the flower attracts as well as its pollinators. The ink needs a moment to try and stick to the thick paper. Your book is about to overflow, with a few pages left spared but not for too long. There are still giant lily pads you wish to observe upon the water and passion flowers high up in the canopy that you must find a way to climb up to. 

You lower your notebook and pause for a moment. It’s strange. You’ve been here for the better half of the morning and haven’t had any interruptions. This is the most research you’ve done in a good while. 

Taking the blessing for what it is, you bow your head and scribble more, noting the bright color and how it thrives upon the jungle soil. There is nothing richer on earth but this Amazonian floor. The most abundant resources of natural, green goods are right before you and you get to observe each flora up close.

You lift your head again. The heliconia is abundant and red, a few tipped in yellow and a rare, stray stem has a tinge of blue to their edges. Beautiful. You step closer, wondering what genetics carried this special trait into this patch of bright reds. Was it cross-pollinated or did a seed get laid here from another stretch of open, flowering land?

The silence settles over you after a moment. Sweeping over the heliconia, you realize the hummingbirds scattered, silent, and swift, leaving you in a heavy quiet. Even distant birds calling and chirping have calmed. The unnatural hush of an otherwise thriving jungle touches you with a warning. 

Your heart stops in your chest.

Your poor notebook drops from your hands, pages, and pen falling. Pointing your feet away from the patch of heliconia, you fail to take a single step before a soft hiss cuts through the air. You cry out as a strike of a lithe, long arms seizes you from behind and a powerful tail sweeps around your legs. A sharp gasp rips from your throat. In a moment of your world spinning, you’re pulled forcibly into a constricting embrace. 

It takes mere seconds. A tail of green scales, dotted with black, quickly twists you into its coils before a soft hum echoes. You fight the urge to squirm as the thick, corded muscle climbs up your legs, locking them together before winding around your waist. Orange-yellow striping on either side of his long, serpentine form cages you within his grasp. Your arms are, unfortunately, caught in the naga’s constriction. You tug on them experimentally but only receive an answering squeeze in return, your ribs tested for a mere moment. A breath slips away from you.

“Happy day, petal.”

You lift your eyes from your trapped body to face the one enforcing your precarious position. Eclipse. The naga hovers over you, balancing on his tail while keeping you in place. The length of his body is utterly incredible. Ropes of thick, powerful muscle spread across the jungle floor and neatly spiral around you, all while leaving enough to support his humanoid torso. 

You try to shift, to find a little more breathing room, but the naga decides to recline you back instead, setting you into an unsettling position where he can creep up his coils to admire you up close. His fangs flash in a ravenous grin. His venom glistens on the razor-sharp tips before he swipes them away with his dark, slender tongue.

“H-hi, Eclipse,” you answer in a rattle. Yet, a smile manages to work its way onto your lips. “Did you have to startle me?”

“I thought you would know it’s me saying hello. Who else would catch you like this?” he rumbles low and deep and the sound vibrates through your own body. You clench your teeth just to keep them from chattering.

He tilts his head as if he finds you adorable—or appetizing. The frills decorating him are as bright as any jungle flower, orange-yellow, and almost hypnotic in the gradient hues. Slitted pupils observe you in the way you might have just been studying the heliconia, interest keen and desirous.

A nervous sound leaves you, somewhere between amusement and fear. “You can say hello without catching me next time,” you offer. “It would be less… frightening.”

His coils shift around you slowly as if tempted by the thought of squeezing until your lungs can’t expand anymore. You glance briefly down to see what his tail may do next.

“Are you frightened right now, petal?” A clawed hand hooks your chin. Eclipse lifts your face to hold your gaze. You swallow back a few mouthfuls of apprehension. A pulse in your arm presses back against the thick serpentine body. You hope he can’t feel it.

You know he does.

“No,” you answer, then truthfully, “not anymore.”

He hums thoughtfully. The sound echoes with a hissing undertone and gradually softens. His eyes survey you with slitted pupils, one a midnight blue, the other deep emerald, even darker than his scales.

“I agree. I’ve held many prey in my coils but you don’t struggle like them. They bite and claw and cry out,” he answers, drawing it out with a slithering sound that spills heat into your core. “But you; you resist little. You’re as soft as fruit in my palms. You’re deliciously small.”

He lifts out his other hand and slowly tilts your hat up and up until it falls away, stumbling down his coils to lie flat by your notebook and pen. The very breath within you catches as he turns his hand and runs the back of his crooked finger down your cheek, admiring you closely. You lean away on instinct but the snare of his scales gives you little room to escape. Softly, he reaches up and strokes your head. His claws comb down your hair. His tongue flicks out so close to your nose, you wonder if he intends to lick you.

“Although there is one aspect you carry with the rest of my prey,” he simpers. He leans close enough that his fangs glisten in the mottled sunlight. “You look good enough to eat.”

The tempo of your heart rate becomes a beating drum within you. 

“What do you eat?” you ask breathlessly, as if you could stall his hunger.

“Oh, whatever trots my way,” he slips a claw over the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver, much to his delight. His coils cinch around you tighter in what you suspect is a desire to feel every shuddering muscle within you. Your cheeks burn.

“Like?” you prod, trying to regain control of your racing pulse but failing miserably. 

He flashes a sinister smile and a drop of venom slips into his saliva before he licks it away.

“Monkeys are fine for a meal. Jaguars are a delicacy that I’ll indulge in when I have the chance. If I’m in the mood to work up my appetite, I’ll hunt black caiman. Otherwise, I’ll dine on a giant otter.” He watches you closer as you comprehend the strength of his ability to target other predators. Truly, nothing can stop him if he so desires. 

You’ve learned much about Eclipse in the short time you’ve encountered him—or rather, he’s stalked and caught you. He is the apex predator of this ecosystem. He glides between the trees and turns into mottled shadows under the dense canopy and possesses a head as brilliant as any blossom. You do not know the animal kingdom as well as your flora, but you know he is the king within this jungle.

And he favors you, somehow. Though he has played with you like a cat with a mouse, he has never delivered a venomous bite with his wicked fangs or squeezed you until you couldn’t breathe anymore. You don’t know what to name this obsession he holds for you but it’s enough to spare your life. It’s enough to convince you that he cares for you. 

A nice theory you’ve come to consider is that you are in the safest place in the jungle right now, protected by the apex predator’s serpentine body. It’s enough to make your heart soften whenever he wraps you tight in his tail. After the initial shock has worn away, of course.

“I imagine they, ahem, taste fine,” you say, though your tongue is a bit dry.

“Such meals hold a very excellent taste, but I prefer a new flavor as of late,” a low rumble moves through him. 

You swallow roughly. His eyes catch the motion, dropping down to your throat where it bobs before his grin seems to sharpen. His fangs lie on full display.

He tilts your head back slightly, allowing sunlight to brighten your face. “Now I want to know more about what you’ve been up to, petal. What are you studying today?”

“Heliconia,” you answer. He captures you in his intense gaze. You nearly wish you could look away just to concentrate on forming words on your tongue. “The, ah, scientific name is heliconia latispatha, but it’s sometimes called lobsterclaw.”

“Say that again,” he commands.

You almost spit out ‘lobsterclaw’ but catch your mistake before you can simmer in embarrassment. In a steady voice, you repeat, “Heliconia latispatha.”

His eyes close briefly, sealing away the jewel-dark colors of his gaze. For a moment, you study him, fascinated by how he tilts his head as if turning an ear towards you.

“Beautiful,” he hisses softly. His eyes open, slitted pupils thinning in the brightness of the day before he nods. “Tell me more.”

You sputter once before continuing into details about their relationship with hummingbirds. Eclipse lets you spill into a monologue. His attention never lapses as you so often find in those who ask about your botany studies only to realize you are giving them an accurate answer, not a simple and inadequate one-note description. You can almost forget that you can’t move your limbs while falling into a ramble of your studies.

While you speak, his coils keep you cool. His smooth, sleek scales effortlessly ease your sweating while slowly shifting around you, occasionally squeezing as if grasping your hand to remind you that he is here, listening. His tongue flickers out once while he traces your jawline and even your lips when you tell of hoping to locate giant lily pads.

“I will take you to see them,” he says after you pause. Your eyes widen. He grins as his claws slip along your temple, trailing your hairline. 

“Really?” you breathe. You’ve been searching for them for so long—even Michael and Vanessa reported that they have stumbled upon many yet in their travels around the jungle.

“Of course.” Eclipse’s simper deepens while he lets his hand fall to cup your cheek. “Anything is yours. You must only say the word, my favorite flower.”

Your lips part but no sound falls out of your mouth. Eclipse’s eyes drink you in as you wriggle in the slightest, unable to contain your eagerness despite how tightly you are held. His tail moves in answer. Scales shift you towards him as Eclipse leans over you, closing the distance.

“Eclipse.” Your mouth finally moves. His name fills it. He stirs, his thin eyelids fluttering briefly as ripples of muscle fall down his tail.

“Say that again,” he commands.

Your throat bobs before you shift your shoulders. His hands fall to the neckline of your shirt, tugging on it slightly to expose your collarbone.

“Eclipse.” Your cheeks heat with a red as bright as the heliconia. 

“Petal,” he hisses gently, “You’re so sweet and precious. Like nectar. I want to taste you.”

Oh.

You want to say something, that you are not nectar but a very simple, boring human, but you aren’t sure if that’s the right thing to say in the face of a predator who lies inches away from your mouth. He draws his hand under your shirt and palms your shoulder, covering your shoulder blade. He tilts your head up. A soft gasp escapes you when he squeezes you softly, and then as if stealing your air, he captures your mouth. He pushes gently, tasting your lips and grazing them with his slick fangs. Quiet sounds escape you, your hands clenching and your knees rubbing together, unable to take his face in your hands and hold him in return. It’s almost maddening. Almost.

A low hiss breaks the kiss as he draws back. His gaze, despite his serpentine aspects, is soft and glowy. You spin slowly after the contact like you were on your feet one moment and lifted off them the next.

“Perhaps we might find a lily as pink as your cheeks,” he murmurs, much to your embarrassment. His smile is devilish but his tongue slowly traces your cheekbone, and you close your eyes.

You hope so, silently, for such a flower.

[hamadisthings]

BAD CALIFORNIAN INTERNET BILLS

While it is good that KOSA is now dead in the House (for now) I would like to ask for people's attention on AB1949 and SB976, which could push for Age verification by showing your ID.

There was a third bill named AB3080 that had similar goals, but luckily it received revisions so it is no longer a threat or require ID verification to access websites. So it would be possible to get AB1949 and SB976 to be revised so they aren't dangerous anymore.

You can read the text for AB1949 right here

AB1949 doesn't explicitly ask for ID verification anymore, as it used to, due to a revision, but there is a provision stating if they deem a website "willfully disregards" the age of the user they will be deemed to have actual knowledge of the user's age.

This broad part could be left to abuse, which is why it needs to be revised before passing, in order to confirm ID verification is not required. FIND YOUR REPS HERE!

For AB1949, you can find your Senate representative with the link above as I said, and check to see if they're a member of the CA Senate Appropriations Committee. Then call them to tell them you oppose this bill. Try to add reasons you think this bill would negatively affect California financially because that's what this committee focuses on.

As for SB976, which you can read here

Its goal is to "keep kids off social medias and addictive feeds" But the concerning part is that "it would make it unlawful for the operator of an addictive internet-based service or application, as defined, to provide an addictive feed to a user, unless the operator does not have actual knowledge that the user is a minor; commencing January 1, 2027, has reasonably determined that the user is not a minor; or has obtained verifiable parental consent to provide an addictive feed to the user who is a minor."

How are you supposed to know that you have "verifiable parental consent" without ID and age verification of both parents and child?Even then, holding the ID of a minor feels pretty illegal given how sensitive how an info this is, in case of a data breach (which will happen) this would endanger kids even more, and no one in general want to give their ID to access a website or an app.

The bill would also make it unlawful for a website or app to send notifications to a minor according to a certain timeframe.

For SB976, find your Assembly representative using the link below and check to see if they're a member of the CA Assembly Appropriations Committee. Then call them to tell them you oppose this bill. https://apro.assembly.ca.gov/members

You can tell them how this is terrible for privacy, and the safety of children, and that it would be terrible for the economy of California, as they seem to focus on it. You can try sending faxes for either bills, but calling IS MUCH MORE efficient. https://faxzero.com/

Here is the time schedule, bills must be taken care before the end of August so it is a matter of time crunch:

You may use the following scripts for the respective bills, you can try to trim it if you deem it too long!

Might be worth a shot to contact Gavin Newsom (Californian governor) here to voice your concerns for these bills

[fluentmoviequoter]

Stay in the Car

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!cop!reader

Summary: Tim disappears from the station, and you and Aaron have to find him. After a heroic leap of faith, you save him in more ways than one.

Warnings: this is inspired by a scene in 6x10 but there's no story spoilers, angst, implied abduction and drug trafficking, injuries, fluff

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

It’s been a slow day in the Mid-Wilshire station. You and your husband Tim were called back to assist with a case, but so far, all you’ve done is sort through paperwork.

“I thought we had rookies for this kind of thing,” you whisper conspiratorially.

“They’re busy babysitting crime scenes,” Tim replies.

You nod as you slide the last form into its proper place. Tim pushes his empty box away and sighs. Now there’s truly nothing to do.

“So, this is where the party is,” Aaron teases as he and Nolan return.

“Yeah,” you agree sarcastically. “It’s a rager, as you can see.”

The detective you’ve been assisting gathers his papers and thanks you quickly. Alone and bored again, you ask Aaron how the streets are today.

“Quiet. Not so much as a speeding ticket so far,” he tells you as he collapses into the seat beside you.

“The Q-word,” Nolan reminds him. “Make sure Harper isn’t around before you use it.”

Tim shakes his head and digs his phone out of his pocket. You tap your foot against his leg under the table, but as his brows draw together, he doesn’t look up at you.

“You alright?” you ask him.

“I have to go.” Tim stands as he speaks, and only spares a glance in your direction.

“Where?”

Tim jogs toward the door as he answers, and you can’t make out part of what he says. It sounds like laundry then, "I love you."

“What’s that about?” Nolan asks.

“No idea. Someone must’ve called for backup,” you guess.

“Probably someone at Hollywood. They’re getting calls.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Aaron nods at you as you stand. When you walk out of the station you see Tim’s truck and his shop still parked in their usual spots. You walk past both vehicles, but there’s no sign of him.

“You lookin’ for the cop that just walked out?” a man on the sidewalk asks.

“Yes, I am. Did you see where he went?” you reply.

“Guy led him to a truck. Figured they were friends or somethin’.”

Your eyes widen as your heart rate increases. Tim wouldn’t have just left while on duty without telling you. To provide backup, sure, but not to get in a truck with a civilian.

“Did you see the truck? Where it went?” you question.

“Nah, miss. Sorry.”

You run back inside and straight to Aaron. Nolan is no longer waiting with him, but Aaron has nothing but time, and you need to find your husband.

“Did you drive to work today?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” he answers slowly. “Why?”

“We need to go. Tim just left and might need backup. He’s not on a call, though.”

“Just take a shop.”

“No, Aaron. I don’t know where he is or who he’s with, and I don’t need to spook anyone into killing him!” you exclaim.

Aaron makes no move to hand over his keys, but you need a personally owned vehicle to stay incognito. Tim has his truck keys, so you need to convince Aaron to help you; if not for you, for Tim.

“Aaron, keys!” you demand.

“We don’t even know where they’re going,” Aaron argues.

“And we won’t find Tim if we don’t do something.” You take a deep breath and run your thumb over your wedding band. “I can’t lose him, Aaron.”

“I know,” he assures. “But I’m going with you. Tim needs all of us. Whatever that text was must've been important.”

Aaron waves as he steps past you, and you follow him to the parking area. When he removes a leather key fob from his pocket and you see a Lamborghini sitting in his spot, you momentarily forget about Tim and his sudden disappearance.

“Aaron, we can’t…” you begin.

“Forget about the car. Let’s go!”

You climb into the passenger seat as Aaron starts the car with an obnoxious rev of the engine.

“Habit,” he murmurs as he pulls the gear shift into reverse. “Where are we going?”

“It’s been at least fifteen minutes since he walked out. They could be miles in any direction by now,” you reply.

“But they wouldn’t have gone anywhere, right?” Aaron asks as he looks both ways to turn. “It may have been last-minute, but they had a plan.”

“What did he say when he left?”

“That he loved you.”

“No, before that.”

“Oh, uhm.” Aaron pauses to think as he passes a truck going under the speed limit. “Something about a laundromat, I think.”

“Did he say laundromat, laundering, or laundry?”

“What’s the difference? Besides washing clothes and the illegal money trade, I mean.”

“Landry,” you realize aloud. “He said Landry as in Pierre Landry!”

“Okay,” Aaron replies. “Who is that?”

“Head toward the Hills.”

“Finally,” Aaron mumbles.

“One more favour?” you request.

“Anything, you know that.”

“Drive this car like you want to. Grey alerted dispatch that we took a POV.”

“Now that’s a favour I’d love to do.”

You sit back in the passenger seat as Aaron shifts into another gear. He swerves in and out of traffic as you think of your husband. Tim has to be safe, because you’ll lose yourself if he’s not.

“What exactly is the plan?” Aaron asks.

You snap yourself out of your racing thoughts of Tim to say, “I’ll know when I see it.”

Aaron nods to himself, but you can tell he’s not convinced. Your plan certainly isn’t detailed, probably not even smart, yet you have to trust that it’ll work. It has to work.

“Slow down,” you tell Aaron. “See the brown truck in the right lane, thirty yards ahead?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Aaron answers. “Oh.”

The back window is broken out and the driver is swerving within the boundaries of his lane, but you can’t see why. When the truck drifts toward the car in the next lane, they hit their brakes and lay on the horn. Aaron swings into the lane behind the truck and ignores the people who honk at him.

With the new vantage point, you see a gun in the bed of the truck. As you lean toward Aaron’s dash to get a better look, you see two people moving in the cab. The driver raises a knife, and then they duck down toward the seat again as he swerves toward the barrier between the lanes. The truck moves over a lane, and the surrounding traffic has given him plenty of room to wreck without harming anyone. The new bumper surrounding the erratic (and armed) truck driver provides the perfect opportunity.

“Get beside him,” you tell Aaron. “But not too close. Stay away from his door.”

He nods and speeds up to drive into the lane beside the truck. You toll your window down and unclip your seatbelt as Aaron’s car lines up with the truck bed.

“What are you doing?” Aaron yells over the wind.

You pull yourself through the narrow window to sit atop the door. “Saving my husband!” you answer loudly. “Keep it steady and fall back the minute I jump.”

“But you-“

“Thorsen!” you interrupt. “Fall back the minute I jump. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You raise your hands to the hood of his car and carefully pull your knees up. When your right foot reaches the door, you push yourself to stand and use your hands to stay steady. You count down in your head 3, 2, 1, and then you jump. Aaron hits the brakes and the distance between you and him increases quickly.

When you hit the truck bed, you roll before you catch yourself. With a calculated movement, you wait until it swerves again to push yourself up and toward the broken back window. Pushed against the body at the back of the cab, you reach your arms inside and grab the driver’s arm. It isn’t until you push yourself in further that you actually see Tim. Tim’s eyes meet yours, and he exhales sharply as you pull the driver back against his seat.

“Move,” you tell Tim.

He pulls himself up from the floorboard and into the passenger seat. The driver finds his knife again and begins slinging it aimlessly over his shoulder, aiming for you. Tim doesn’t hesitate to move across the cab of the truck and pull the driver’s hands away from you.

“Tim!” you warn as the truck begins drifting toward the curb.

You keep your arms locked around the driver’s shoulders but watch Tim. He takes a deep breath and leans back. As he shoves his feet against the man’s side, he grimaces in pain but doesn’t stop. The momentum knocks the driver against the door beside him and his foot slides off the gas pedal. You move your left arm to his neck and hold him tightly as you reach for the steering wheel with your right.

Tim slips forward again to avoid a punch from the driver and extends his arm toward the brake pedal. He groans as he pushes it to the floor, and you use all of your strength to pull the driver back and away from Tim. The truck lurches to a quick stop and you turn so that your side makes impact with the broken window frame rather than your face or chest.

Sirens sound behind you and grow louder quickly now that you aren’t moving. The driver reaches for something under his seat, but you grab the gun that slid forward in the truck bed and aim it at his temple.

“Drop it,” you command. “Now.”

Tim groans again as he sits up, but he keeps his eyes on the man you’re holding. You loosen your grip and open the driver’s side door so the approaching officers can get him out and into custody. He takes the opportunity to roll out, but Aaron pulls up beside him before he can push himself up and run.

“That was amazing!” Aaron applauds as he exits his car.

Tim hisses in pain, and you turn toward him quickly.

“That was dumb,” he argues.

“Are you okay?” you ask him.

Tim cradles his arm but nods. You hop over the side of the bed and open the passenger door. Tim leans toward you as you lay your hand on his shoulder.

“Where’s Landry?” Nyla asks as she and Angela run toward the truck.

“Whoa,” Angela interjects. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Driver didn’t say much, but he radioed that he would meet someone at John Anson,” Tim answers.

“Get an ambulance,” Angela tells a passing officer.

“John Anson Ford? The theater?” Nyla clarifies.

You tune out their conversation as you squat beside the truck. Tim’s boots are scuffed from breaking the window, but other than the scrapes you can see and his arm, he seems relatively fine. You release a relieved, albeit shaky, breath as you stand.

“It’s not high season for the theater,” you add. “Landry could be using it as a distribution base for his new product.”

“He’ll get suspicious when reckless back there doesn’t show,” Tim says.

“We’ll send someone in,” Nyla assures him. “You’re going to the hospital.”

“Don’t,” Angela warns when Tim opens his mouth. “Argue with your wife about it.”

She winks at you as she and Nyla walk toward the other officers waiting behind you. The ambulance navigates through the crowd of police cars and officers, and you look into Tim’s eyes.

“You scared me,” you murmur, taking his hand.

“You jumped from a moving car onto another moving car, but you want to play that card?” Tim challenges.

“Are you really okay?” you ask.

“I promise. There is one thing I’d like you to do- two, maybe.”

You nod quickly, and Tim looks over your shoulder at the approaching EMTs.

“Go finish this case, and make sure it’s over.”

“Tim, I-“

“I need to know. And you do too.”

“Okay,” you agree. “What’s the second thing?”

Tim tips his chin up, and you smile before you kiss him gently. He moves his good arm toward your waist, but you step back.

“You’re sure?” you check.

Tim nods, and you demand that he keep you updated as you step back.

“I love you,” you tell him.

“I love you,” he replies. “Get Landry.”

You salute Tim and smile when he rolls his eyes. Tim will give the paramedics a hard time, but he’s safe, and that’s all that matters.

“Grey,” you call as you enter the bullpen.

“Thank goodness,” he sighs. “Everything wrapped up?”

“Detectives are closing the case as we speak, and Landry is already booked and processed. We also grabbed two distributors who already had product on them.”

“Then get out of here.” Wade smiles as he adds, “And take your husband with you.”

You furrow your brows. Tim should be at the hospital still; it’s only been a few hours since you left him with the EMTs. Wade points toward the roll call room, and you see your husband sitting against a table with his arm in a sling.

Without another word, you walk away from Sergeant Grey and toward Tim. He looks up when you open the door, and his shoulders drop when he sees you.

“We got Landry,” you say before he asks.

“I’m fine,” Tim tells you, sensing that you have a question too.

“Good. Ready to go home?”

“As long as you’ll stay in the car this time,” Tim jokes.

He stands, and you hug under his uninjured arm. You feel him relax before his wraps his arm around you and ducks his head toward your shoulder.

“You mean more to me than you’ll ever know,” he murmurs. “Thanks for saving my life.”

“I love you, Tim,” you whisper. “But don’t ever make me do that again. You walked out and then you were gone.”

“Hey.” Tim waits until you look at him to finish, “Never again.”

You kiss him quickly and then step back and take his hand. “I promise to stay in the car all the way home if we can get food on the way.”

Tim rolls his eyes, but the way he keeps you close as you walk to his truck – which you have to drive now – makes you think he really was just as worried about you as you were for him.

[sgiandubh]

The door faces North

This has been, by far, one of the most complex investigations I have ever done in this fandom, and I am truly sorry for the long wait I had to inflict on many of you & for the uncharacteristic radio silence in DMs and comments. During this peculiar journey, I checked, double-checked and cross-checked as many details as I could and I carefully considered at least two different theories, of which I still think they do not exclude each other. I am now confident enough to make not only an educated guess, but also a daring bet on SRH's next whisky move.

Also, sorry for the length of this post. Truly sorry - think of the completely pulverized night sleep I had to give up, in order to bring this to you.

But first, a word on Marple's obvious PR tip on the Hopetoun Estate refurbishment and distillery old/new project. I am fair game enough to tell you the obvious: her overall recounting of the principals is roughly correct, spare perhaps one or two minor details. Correct, but dry - she limits herself to the technical documentation submitted by Golden Decanters and The Hopetoun Estates Trust to the West Lothian Council for approval. She correctly points out that S is not a visible part of the deal, at this point in time and she does a decent summing up of a very, very, VERY plethoric amount of bureaucratic information. She concludes, and I think she is partially right, that he might be interested in becoming an investor (I am taking things a bit further, though). But in doing so, she focuses on the development phase of the project only: the possible connections with SRH and his own spirits business are less, if at all, obvious.

I am going to give you my view of all this charade and, if I am going to mention (and probably repeat) some things already found by her, I am going to focus on the people: this is where the whole story starts to become remarkably interesting, at least to me. After all, I remember promising you some more clarity. Here's an honest, fair play take.

Little did I know, when I started to write about that (now defunct) company, Midhope Castle Distillery, Ltd (https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/748597198794670080/the-info-provided-above-is-correct-but-outdated?source=share), that my investigation would turn to this:

... for it was to be just an almost random layer of a juggernaut matryoshka of defunct or still active companies, featuring roughly the same people and no less than 6 different name combinations centered around Midhope, Hopetoun, etc.

The following pics will give you an idea - feel free to open them in a separate tab, for clarity . I preferred this synthetic approach, because otherwise you will curse the shite out of me. But it had to be done, with or without Depon, Advil's Greek cousin (and before you ask a graphologist, this is my handwriting, and nobody else's 🙃):

The only explanation for the whole almost frantic Midhope/Hopetoun crisscross/hopscotch (LOL) combos I can think of is two people trying to secure one (several?) credit lines or to attract significant investors for their project and ultimately failing to do so. But I might be wrong (although I doubt that, thank you). Out of this entire maze ( I swear I now have a migraine), there are only two active companies remaining: Golden Decanters Ltd (renamed GD Spirits Ltd, in April 2022) and Midhope Ltd (renamed Skosk Ltd, in July 2023). It is on them I am going to focus my gaze.

GD Spirits Ltd was incorporated in Berwick-upon-Tweed, England (just across the Scottish border), probably for tax reasons, on March 11, 2015, the nature of its business being listed as 'wholesale of wine, beer, spirits, etc.'. It started with a team of two women: Julia Mackenzie-Gillanders and Ann Medlock, whose names we are going to see over and over again in all the eight corporate avatars. Later down the timeline (LOL for three decades and a half), on January 30, 2018, they were briefly (until July 19, 2018) joined by two very interesting professionals: Mrs. Margaret Boswell, an attorney at the very prestigious international law firm Gide Loyrette Nouel (Paris and London offices)...

...and Ken Robertson, former Corporate Affairs Director at Diageo Whisky, a subsidiary of the international Diageo group, one of the major players on the world spirits' market:

The second company, Skosk Ltd, was incorporated in August 2021, in Perth, Scotland, its nature of business being listed as 'distilling, rectifying and blending of spirits', with the clear intention to align with the exacting criteria prescribed by the 2009 Scotch Whisky Regulations:

[ Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scotch_whisky - sorry, I don't have time to wax lyrical on this, and neither do you]

This time, we only meet again the two distillerettes, Gillanders and Medwick. Up until now, at least, nobody else (attorney, former sales executive, whisky expert) has joined the platoon - TBC? I would not speculate and leave all options open.

There is little to 0 transparency on Skosk's financial situation, at the moment and to be honest, it looks very much like S's co-star (hehe)'s Irish business venture...

... but I was a bit more lucky, and the numbers more chatty, as far as GD Spirits was concerned:

Paging all shipper chartered accountants out there, but to me, it doesn't look great, at the moment. Cash is ridiculous, the net worth is hemorrhaging and the current assets are negligible, compared to 2020, when I think they managed to secure one or two credit lines, but not nearly enough for what they needed. Just enough to pay themselves and their external consultants and cover the operating costs, if you ask me.

The revised Planning Statement, of 8 February 2024, posted first by Marple, echoes my initial guess (COVID blew it up, see link to the first post) and the above assessment:

Mark this: 'Discussions are now proceeding with investors and there is a realistic prospect that work will begin in the near future (2024/2025) to implement the permission.' Given that they will start with the road and parking rehabilitation and upgrading, probably overlapping with the distillery building, it would make sense to begin this autumn at the earliest, with the most urgent: access to the site itself.

The initial Planning Statement, dated 9 July 2020 and re-posted on March 21st, 2024, tells a more detailed story. This is part and parcel of the current project as well, since the revision is just pointing out the changes operated, not the entire rest, which remains unchanged. You be the judge:

Also keep in mind this tiny, tiny thing: the Business Plan is 'submitted (...) under Private and Confidential Cover'. See where I am looking?

The initial plan was (and still is) for GD Spirits to produce their own booze, using Midhope's own barley (this is very important for the rest of my theory!). They even offer an overview of the real impact of their project on the local economy:

20 to 38 initial new job creations for a £ 15 to 30 million investment is not 'huge', madam Marple. Cumbernauld is huge. This? This is rather modest, if you ask me. But hey, what do I know about the labor market, right?

That initial Statement tells also the story they want to tell about the genesis of their idea, the scouting for the right location and a couple of other interesting details:

So they are telling us they started to look for the perfect location in 2018 and oh, hello, they found the Hopetoun Estate rather quickly, already starting the pre-planning application consultations as early as July 2019 (don't get me started, please):

If so, then why did they incorporate not one, but two different companies clearly linking them to the Estate (Hopetoun Estate Distillery Ltd and Hopetoun Estate Whiskies Ltd) the same day and as early as May 23rd 2017 (and both dissolved in December 2022), as my above penciled timeline (LOOOOOL) shows? Who is really behind this project and why this entire ballet? It's like me pre-emptively looking for rental properties in (let's randomly guess) Lisbon, when it's just wishful thinking, heavily projecting and with 0 guarantees I will be posted there, right? I mean, I adore and deeply know Lisbon and I would be thrilled to go there. But I am not currently looking for any rental property, just like that, because that would be a #silly, rookie mistake. In their case, I think there's a different situation - again, you be the judge.

A first answer, as to who is really behind that project, was given by the UK media, back in 2020:

How odd, when we know that both Mrs. Boswell, the well-traveled attorney and Mr. Robertson resigned from GD Spirits in July 2018. Do they still say hi to the two distillerettes? Do they quietly keep an eye on the project? Are they silent partners? Business angels? Shareholders? Time to remind you that under UK law, there is 0 visibility on the shareholder's structure of a company. You just see the officers (Director, Secretary, etc), on the Company House website. On an umpteenth, last- second cross-check, it became apparent that Mr. Robertson remained involved in another company of the distillerettes, Hopetoun Estate Whiskies Ltd (yes, the one mentioned above), until its voluntary strike-off, in December 2022.

Their best laid plans do mention OL, and how could it be otherwise? But all this £ 15 to 30 million hullaballoo for 20.000 people only (who counted them and how?), on a seasonal basis?

High-end restaurant, luxury B&B, event spaces, you name it. Interesting, to say the least.

And, for the people in the back, who still think SRH has a 100 years lease at Midhope (Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, the stupidity!):

This is why he commented as a 'member of the public'. At face value, there is no public involvement into that project. Yet. But it is my belief there is a vested interest in all this, justifying the comment, the visit, those papers rolled in his fist, etc. At first, I thought that was a visit to Lallybroch by the Exec Producer of OL's Season 8, to discuss technicalities - and shared that privately with a wonderful friend only. I mean, why not and still perfectly possible. But then, as I could not sleep tonight and felt guilty to have you all waiting, I started to connect some tiny dots.

Like this one, for a start:

Yes, I know, Marple told you that FIRST, I would not dare say otherwise, because if I did there would be a transcontinental screech. That trademark application was filed at the US Patent and Trade Office in September 2023 and I thought (and still partially do) it was a potential rebranding solution to The Sassenach's EUIPO nightmare (much exaggerated by the fandom's toothbrush experts):

But you also know I am an idiot and I always check people's CVs, when I follow a thread. This morning, the one Distillerette I am particularly interested in is Mrs. Julia Hall-Mackenzie-Gillanders (née Scales) and not like *urv would be.

Her LinkedIn profile is exceptionally talkative, too:

... and a BA (with Honors) in Fashion Design, class of 2005, at the Northumbria University.

The Financial Times article 'From packing boxes to wine deals worth millions', you can read on her LinkedIn page, tells a very interesting story. It is the story of a shy underdog (lots of temple bells clinging, at the moment), who made it by sheer persistence. It starts like this:

'When a painfully shy young woman contacted a fine wine merchant and said ' I have no qualifications- can I help?', she got the job and today is signing deals worth millions of pounds.'

It obviously did ring a bell and if SRH knows she exists (she is married, *urv!), and I dare to speculate he does, it must have struck a deep chord. Would I do business with her? I wouldn't speculate, although I am not very sure. Would he? He'd probably listen very carefully to what she has to pitch, for a start.

And what she has to pitch is also very interesting, in his world. A brief look at the Golden Decanters' website shows a first high-end single malt sourced collection of 4 exceptional expressions already sold out:

And when they mean high-end, they mean gold leaf labelling and all the tralala:

And, some last minute news, too:

Remind me, because I am an old woman, after this white night: wasn't The Sassenach (no comment, we agree to disagree and I am very skeptical), a blend?

We have these dots, then:

Bold Underdog ->spirits business->high-end collection of single malts sold out->business partnership with owners of Midhope Castle, fictional Lallybroch in OL, including a distillery and whisky production with Midhope/Lallybroch barley -> visit by the male lead and spirits entrepreneur (also the fictional Lallybroch laird) to Midhope/Lallybroch and vested interest in the estate's most recent business project....

What if The Sassenach would be included, for a start, in that new Blended Collection? And could it really be fanfic to imagine a future high-end, limited edition, Lallybroch whisky produced at Midhope, with Midhope/Lallybroch barley? It wouldn't be the first time, would it: after all, they did it with that limited tequila batch.

As I said, because I am (remember Someone? LOL) a 'silly cow', I was hoping he wouldn't do it. But my guess is he might very well do exactly that, with those people and under that label.

It's half past eight AM, local time and I need a strong, black coffee.

I rest my case (and I am bracing myself for the screeching). I will answer Anons later, after I come back from the hairdresser's. Appointments must be kept at all costs. Thank you all for your patience.

[talewrites]

Fragile Part 6

😈😈😈

(This chapter got too long- I had to cut it short,,,, :]]] Enjoy!)

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

Tmnt x Reader Fanfic

Pronouns: Gender Neutral (except ‘dudette’, 'miss', and ‘princess’)

Warnings: injury, blood, electrocution, graphic depictions of torture, not proof read

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Today you were spending time with Donnie while he worked in front of his monitors. You liked it there much better than in his lab. He had a map of the city up with little marks indicating spots where the Foot had been spotted. But that wasn’t what he was working on right now.

No, you and Donnie were doing much more important things at the moment.

Like playing the new update in Stardew Valley.

“Fishing mods are cheating.” 

You gawked at him in mock offense. “But you can’t pause in a multiplayer farm, there’s no time to play the fishing mini game!!”

“That’s why it’s more of a challenge!” He stuck his tongue out while he clicked his mouse rapidly to fight off a slime in the mines.

You pouted, adjusting the laptop in your lap. “I don’t need my cozy farming sim to be challenging…” 

Donnie did not miss the cute grin that graced your face after, his heart fluttering in his chest. 

These past few days you found yourself smiling more and more easily. Whether it was Mikey getting covered in flour while you baked cookies together, or Raph teaching you how to purl stitch, or Leo showing you how to wield a sword. You were enjoying spending more personal time with the turtles as you got to know them better.

Your toes curled where you were perched in the chair beside Donnie, glancing up at the map again. Your eyes always drawn to the blinking red dot marking the location of the lab you escaped only weeks before. The police had raided it and found it empty, which only increased your unease as to where Dr Stockman might be hiding. It already felt like a lifetime ago, that night when the turtles first found you. 

You owed them your life.

“Hey (y/n), you almost ready for afternoon training?” Leo came over, snapping you out of your thoughts. Leo leaned against the back on Donnie’s chair, earning a dismissive swat from his younger brother.

“We’ll stop after we finish up this day, Leo.” Donnie said not even taking his eyes off the screen. You giggled and got back to fishing on the beach.

You were two hours into your training session with Leo. 

“Okay, good. Now when you kick, focus on your balance. Stay firmly planted and your leg should have more power.” Leo coached you. 

Master Splinter was supervising while sipping his tea. It had barely been 5 days since your mutant abilities had manifested. But you were already making astounding progress in unlocking its potential. Leonardo had played a big part in the process, being the one who had helped you work through your fears of using your mutant reflexes, so the abilities came more easily to you when training. He trained with you every day, while Master Splinter provided guidance. Everyone was doing their best to support you through all the changes.

Casey suddenly jogged in through the entrance of the lair. 

“Guys! Just got word, the Foot are planning to rob a warehouse full of high tech weapons tonight. We gotta go intercept it.” He said waving around his cellphone.

“What? Where? Their communication frequency has been quiet since they moved those chemicals to the old Sacks building!” Donnie spun around in his chair to face Casey, you and Leo walking into the living room with Raph and Mikey close behind.

“Queens. Our contact in the Foot Clan leaked the info to us just half an hour ago.”

“Huh, that’s strange. That’s all the way on the other side of town. Aside from Sacks Tower, they’ve only really been active around the East Village and ChinaTown this past week. Maybe they changed their frequency again to throw us off track.” Donnie was quickly typing up info on his keyboard. 

“Well, regardless, we better go check it out.” Leo sighed. He wanted to keep training with you, but it would have to wait.

“Heck yeah! I’m bringin’ the steak-out snacks. Who wants Doritos?” Mikey grabbed his ratty old Jansport backpack and started shoving cans of Orange Crush into it. 

“(Y/n), you stay here and keep an eye on Donnie’s computer. The Foot might try to communicate about their raid tonight. Donnie’s program will intercept it. April will be here in about an hour, so just tell her if anything suspicious comes up.” Leo asked you.

“Right!” You said standing to attention and giving a military salute with a silly little grin on your face. 

It made Leo’s heart melt in his chest and his expression turned soft. 

“Just, stay safe, okay?” He patted you on the head then headed for the exit. 

As the rest of the boys filed out of the lair, they each stopped by you. Mikey getting a high five, you quickly cleaned Donnie’s glasses for him, and Raph, always last, ducked down for a quick hug when his brothers weren’t looking. Casey rushed ahead of them.

Master Splinter waved goodbye to his sons next to you. Once the boys had left, he informed you he was going to go meditate, and to come find him if you needed anything.

About 45 minutes later, you were casually watching YouTube videos on Donnie’s computer when a flashing red light appeared on the screen. It was indicating that Donnie’s program was intercepting a message from the Foot’s closed communication server. A message popped up on the screen, and you gasped.

“We have captured the turtles. Continue with the plan.” 

Then a video feed loaded up on the main screen. 

Your blood ran cold.

It looked like the feed from a security camera, depicting Leo, Mikey, and Donnie all locked in glass cages, restrained with thin tubes of red connected to their arms. They looked weak, they looked bad.

“What….? No… No, not this… please no…!”

Where was Raphael? He was nowhere to be seen. How did they get captured so fast…? They had barely been gone an hour!

Your mind was racing. You recognized those machines. Dr Stockman used them to take blood samples from Bebop and Rocksteady. If that was the case, there was no time to lose.

You made up your mind.

You snuck past the dojo and muttered a quick apology to Master Splinter. You knew Master Splinter wouldn’t let you go, so you kept quiet. Then you grabbed the handheld GPS device Donnie left on his work table. You entered the location on the map where the message was sent from. 

The old Sacks Tower. 

Time to move.

April arrived at the lair much later than expected. She and Casey had just finished speaking to the commissioner about police activities being leaked to the Foot. When they entered the living room, they were confused to only see Master Splinter waiting for them. The old rat was pacing and anxiously stroking his beard. 

“Splinter? Where’s (y/n)?” April asked, confused.

Splinter shook his head. 

“You don’t know where they are?” April became concerned, walking further into the lair. 

“It appears, that our greatest fears have been realized.” His expression deeply troubled. Before April could ask, she noticed what Splinter was looking at. 

Playing in a loop on Donatello’s monitor was old CCTV footage from when the turtles had been captured 10 years ago by Shredder and Mr Sacks. April breathed a sigh of relief, immediately recognizing the scene.

“Splinter, the turtles are safe. I spoke to Leo on the phone only 10 minutes ago. They’re staking out a warehouse in Queens. This is old footage.” 

Splinter’s eyes widened and looked back to the screen. His expression turned contemplative. 

“If that is so, then perhaps Miss (y/n) has made the same mistake.” He spoke gravely.

April had a look of shock. She quickly pulled out her phone and speed dialed Leo’s number.

Leo thankfully answered quickly. “Hey April, anything new?”

“Leo, is (y/n) with you?”

Leo paused a long moment and sent a look over to his brothers, getting their attention. “No…. Aren’t they at the lair?” All of his brother's eyes were suddenly on him. Leo turned the phone on speaker.

“No!! They’re gone. And there’s a video playing on Donnie’s computer. It’s a recording of you Mikey and Donnie locked up at Sacks’ estate from over 10 years ago… I think this is what (y/n) saw before they left.”

“They left?” Leo felt his heart drop into his stomach. “To go where, Sacks’ estate?” His brothers immediately started packing up their stakeout equipment to leave. 

“No I don’t think so, the sender’s location was tracked, it’s still on the screen. It says it was sent from Sack Tower in Times Square.”

Donnie came over and joined in the call, typing furiously at the keyboard on his wrist. “Sacks Tower. That’s where they were spotted smuggling those stolen chemicals into the other day…! From my notifications, it appears that the message was sent through an older Foot Clan communication frequency approximately 43 minutes ago.”

“Donnie, how long will it take (y/n) to get to Sacks Tower.”

“From my calculations, if (y/n) left the lair heading to the Sacks building about 40 minutes ago, going by subway, they should arrive in about uhhh, approximately 8 minutes.”

“And how long will it take us to get there.” Raph asked.

“From where we are now, if we manage to hitch a ride on the next nonstop train to Times Square…… about 1 and a half hours.”

“Shit!” 

Raph cursed loudly and turned away frustrated, and Mikey put his hands on his head. Donnie was typing away at the keypad on his arm, trying to find any kind of faster route and muttering about how stupid he was for not making you a shellcell.

“We don’t have a minute to waste. Let’s move out.”

That’s all they needed to hear. Everyone sprung into action and booked it for the closest subway station manhole cover.

“April, we are headed to Sacks Tower as fast as we can. And get ahold of the police commissioner again. Whoever gave us the information to come to this warehouse tonight was intentionally planted with misinformation. There was no sign of the Foot at the warehouse. …..It was most likely a diversion.”

“Right. I’ll get back to you soon.”

Leo hung up the phone and jumped off the apartment building and dove down towards the street’s manhole cover.

Leo grit his teeth.

“Hold on (y/n).”

The halls of the building were eerily empty. This place made your skin crawl. The laboratory felt all too similar to the one you had been trapped in before. But this one had clearly been abandoned for a long time. Broken glass, graffiti, turned over chairs, scattered paper. But strangely the power was still on. You didn’t dare try to use the elevator in fear of giving away your position. But you were confused as to why you had yet to see any guards. This is where the message was sent from, the turtles had to be here, right?

You climbed the steps to another floor, but paused as you creaked open the door exiting the stairwell. This floor felt like a world apart from the previous ones. It was clean.

And the lights were on.

You kept low, and hyper vigilant. Steadying your breathing like Leo had taught you, you crept into the sterile white hallway. There were glass windows along the hall looking into different labs. One held chemistry equipment, another held big bulky medical equipment that clicked and beeped. Finally, the last room at the end of the hall, a room with no windows. You had a sinking feeling in your gut, but still you crept towards the door. Slowly and quietly you pulled open the heavy door, and revealed a large lit room with a high ceiling, and there you saw it.

“Guys….!”

There along the back wall were 4 glass boxes with 3 of the turtles strung up and being drained of blood. You had found them! Seeing no one else in the room, you rushed in. 

“I’m going to get you out of here, just you wait!” You went to the first machine in front of Donnie and reached out to touch the screen-

Your hand passed right through.

“What…?” You tried to touch it again but there was nothing there.

The hologram distorted, and then the turtles disappeared. You gasped.

It was a trap.

You turned around to book it towards the exit, but the door was opening again. Bebop and Rocksteady squeezed through the small door one at a time, and blocked your exit. Then over an intercom you heard the familiar laugh that sent a shiver down your spine.

Stockman chuckled darkly. “Just how I planned it! Like catching a fly with honey. So predictable!”

You backed up slowly as Bebop and Rocksteady approached you. 

“Did you miss us, little kitty?” Rocksteady sneered.

The intercom buzzed as Stockman spoke again. “Bebop, Rocksteady, keep them occupied until I arrive. I will be there momentarily. And let’s not have a repeat of last time, please!” There was a clicking sound and the intercom went quiet.

Bebop chuckled. “Hell yeah! It’s been so long since we last played! Let’s make the most of it.” 

“That’s right! And we gotta pay you back for all the trouble you caused us! We missed you so much after you left. You wanna go first Beebs?”

“My man!” Bebop smiled at Rocksteady and clasped his hand, they both laughed. 

You tried your best to steady your breathing like Leo taught you. Your hands were trembling. But you needed a way out. Bebop and Rocksteady were not fast, if you timed it right, maybe you can get past them to the door.

Bebop approached you. You stayed still and waited. Then when he got close enough, you ran right towards him, surprising Bebop. He reached out to grab you but you slid right between his legs, then jumped up behind him and tried to run past Rocksteady before he could react. He was still too close to you and managed to grab you from behind, but you were ready for him. Just like in training, you reached up and grabbed him around his neck, and taking a deep breath, you threw all your strength forward and down and managed to flip Rocksteady onto his back- stunning him. You quickly jumped over him and ran for the door, slamming into it fast and wretched the handle to pull it open. 

Locked. (Warning for graphic depictions of torture ahead.)

“No…!” You felt a bruising grip close around your arm, and you were torn away from the door. “NO!!” You cried out as you were thrown hard onto the floor between the two oversized mutants. 

“See? Now that’s your problem. You gotta go makin’ our job harder than it needs to be!” Bebop complained. 

Rocksteady was picking himself back up, rubbing the back of his head tenderly. “Don’t let them get to ya Beebs, we’ll sort them out quick before Stockman gets here.” Bebop then reached into his pocket and pulled out an all too familiar black taser. 

Rocksteady took the taser and chuckled. “Little kitty needs a check-up!” 

You tried to get up and run, but Rocksteady stomped down hard on your left arm. There was a sickening snap and you screamed, writhing in pain. You were pinned. 

“Tsk, tsk. You know what happens when kitty gets naughty!” The taser was flicked on, all you could do was close your eyes before a strong surge of electricity was shot into your ribcage and throughout your body. You convulsed as the shocks seized you, your shoulder getting dislocated from the spasms, then collapsed back on the floor. 

“Just like good ol’ times!” Rocksteady passed the taser to Bebop.

Rocksteady laughed and removed his foot from your arm, then Bebop tased you in the ribs again. You yelped and rolled onto your stomach, tucking your very broken arm underneath you and tried to crawl away. 

“Hey, where ya goin? We’re just getting STARTED!” Rocksteady punctuated his sentence by kicking you in the stomach hard enough to throw you across the room. You hit the ground and your body rolled another few feet until you stopped on your side and curled in on yourself, the air knocked out of your lungs.

Bebop took his time strolling over to you, and grabbed you by the hair to lift you up. You coughed and gasped for air, grabbing at his hand and tried to pry his fingers off of his grip. 

“Think you can just up and leave whenever you want, do ya?” He growled in your ear, then dropped you down haphazardly to the floor. You were on your knees, buckled forward and holding your left shoulder, when suddenly Bebop’s foot stomped down on your right ankle and you heard a loud crunch. 

You shrieked. 

Exhausted and riddled with unbearable pain, you crippled to the floor. It took everything you had just to pull breath. 

“Alright, I’m back! How is our lovely patient doing?” Came the cheerful sing-song voice of Dr Stockman entering the room through the locked door, Karai tailing behind him. 

“Hey boss! Uhhh, we were just warming them up for ya! See? They can’t run away no more.” Bebop nudged your side with his foot, knocking you onto your side so Stockman could see the pain riddled on your face. You were barely conscious by this point. 

“Excellent! Bring them to me.” Stockman ordered.

Bebop picked you up by your good arm and carried you over to where Dr Stockman was walking to in the back of the room. Karai stepped in Bebop’s way for a moment, taking in your beaten appearance, and back-handed your face hard for good measure, leaving a shiny bruise and angry red gash across your cheek. That woke you up a bit. 

Just enough to retaliate.

You took a deep breath and tore your arm out of Bebop’s grasp and punched Karai in the stomach, hard enough to throw her into a large display screen next to where Stockman was standing. Stockman squawked in surprise. She rolled onto the floor, and pushed herself up onto her side. Spitting a bit of blood onto the ground and wiping away at her lip. 

You tried to stand on your good leg but you were too weak and collapsed back to the floor. Bebop and Rocksteady grabbed you by each of your arms and brought you in front of Stockman.

He was looking at you in awe, and reached out tentatively to swipe at the blood on your cheek. He rushed over to his desk, jumping a bit in excitement. He put a drop of your blood onto a slide, and observed it under his microscope.

“Ha…! HA HA…! YES!!” Stockman shouted in excitement and did a little dance. Bebop and Rocksteady exchanged a confused look and Karai stood up and walked over to Stockman, eyeing you angrily and rolling her shoulder.

“What does this mean?” She questioned him. 

“It means that the mutation was a SUCCESS!!! Those stupid turtles must have triggered it somehow. And now we can finally proceed with the plan!!!” He grabbed something off his desk and skipped over to the stairs leading up to the circular titanium base in the middle of the room. “Bring them here!!” He called over, waving his hand to Bebop and Rocksteady.

They dragged you over to Stockman, and were deposited on the round podium that sat under a large glass tube. Stockman started to pull down long rubber tubes from above, and attached large thick needles to the ends. You tried once again to crawl away with your good arm, as Bebop and Rocksteady retreated. 

But Stockman approached you from behind. In a quick jab, he stabbed the two needled tubes deep into your back. You grunted and groaned in pain, but could do nothing, collapsing on the podium. Beaten, bruised, and bleeding.

When Dr Stockman was finished, he descended the stairs and rushed over to his computer, giggling excitedly he typed in a command and the glass tube descended over you until it clicked into place at the sturdy titanium base. Locking you inside.

“They’ll be placed in suspended animation. Once the tank is completely filled with the preservation fluid, they’ll become nothing more than a convenient blood bag, supplying an endless supply of mutagen for our mutant army.” Stockman rubbed his hands together evilly.

“And what about the turtles?” Karai asked. 

“It is already too late for them to stop us. Even if they manage to get through your guards, they will be unable to free them from this tank. Once I start the filtration process, I will delete the programmed command to empty or release the containment cylinder. They won’t be able to free them without my help!” Stockman typed away quickly at his computer. 

One of the tubes connected to your back began to pull blood from your body, leading up through a small opening in the top of the cylinder then down into a canister at the base. Then from the second tube, a white milky substance full of liquid nutrients began to filter through and down into your body. It did nothing to numb the pain you felt as you laid there in a state of half consciousness. 

Suddenly, the loud banging of gunshots could be heard somewhere outside the door. 

“We’re not ready yet! Hold them back!” Stockman ordered Bebop and Rocksteady, who positioned themselves between Stockman and the door. 

The door suddenly blew wide open, and the four turtles rushed into the room, angry and weapons at the ready.

“Where’s (y/n).”

Part 7

@itsberrydreemurstuff @thecreat0r64 @eli-chris @kurlyfrasier @autisticnutcase @drenix004 @donniesgirlie @cherryp-op @foggyturtleknightangel @blackrockshooter780 @l-n-g-t @peachesdabunny @silverwatergalaxy @willy-the-witch @caeliasaida @veri-varily @xnorthstar3x 

If anyone else wants to be tagged for the next update, let me know in the comments! :]

[honeytonedhottie]

HONEYS IT GIRL MAGAZINE february edition⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🎀

this is a new thing im doing on my blog that i think you'd all like very much called honeys magazine/catalog. basically like a monthly inside scoop on data that i've collected, things i've learned/started doing, and just general info like that organized in kind of a teen-magazine inspired fashion. a magazine for it girls ✨

i've had so much fun putting together the february catalog and i'd love to hear feedback of things that you'd like to see in the next edition. and now, please enjoy the it girl magazine ✨

FEBRUARY FASHION ;

february is full of silks and lace. feminine muted colors like beiges, whites, and pinks. this february i've rly been into tweed dresses. accessories that i've been loving this february include pearls, stockings, and ribbons.

a lot of the clothes that i've been eyeing are things that are more light in fabric and in color. such as cute camisoles with lace trim and i've rly been into the chic look this february as i've mentioned before.

when it comes to jewelry and accessories i always love to layer and be excessive and even though during february i've been obsessed with the chic look, i always add lots of accessories. if not something huge like bracelets or necklaces, i'll be excessive with rings or something smaller.

in general HYPERFEMININE and super cute and girly clothes have been my favorite thing in february especially cuz of valentines day. the theme is soft-wear. shimmery, sheer, and showered in flowers.

cute earrings (preferably the smaller ones) like studs, pearls, or cute spherical earrings

hair clips and barrettes

bangles

tweed dresses

pearl necklaces

remember those dress up games you may have used to play when u were little? when dressing this february, thats what inspired my february fashion. fluffy lashes, cutesy accessories and heels.

i read up a lot on CHANEL bcuz i think that her brand embodies the chic look perfectly and here are some fashion tips from coco chanel (this is my source)

look for the woman in the dress, if there is no woman then there is no dress - basically means dont let your clothes wear you

it is always better to be slightly underdressed - coco's understanding of chic was subtle glamor and lush fabrics

fashion changes but style endures - some clothes are timeless like a little black dress (aubrey hepburn) a quality handbag and a crisp white shirt

WHAT IM LISTENING TO LATELY ;

my favorite album of this month is kali uchis's orquídeas. i absolutely adore her music, energy and vibe. and the whole album is just MWAH. my favorite songs from the album are ;

te mata

igual que un ángel

perdiste

another album that i've been obsessed with this past month is the twicetagram album from twice. i just love the energy in the songs. my favorite songs from that album are LOOK AT ME and LOVELINE. and lastly, just songs that i've enjoyed listening to this february ;

yes, and? - ariana grande

never lose me - flo milli

wonderboy - GWSN

scenery - red velvet

angels in tibet - amaarae

FOR THE BLOG ;

since its going to be march and were kinda transitioning from the winter season -> spring, you can expect to see lots of spring related content from me. another thing that i rly wanna set up for my blog is membership if thats something that u guys'd be interested in.

and also after doing the valentines day challenge, i had so much fun with it and i kinda wanna do more challenges. so if i end up setting up membership i think services like those would be provided.

lastly, since im an advocate for not over consuming the law, i won't be answering inbox questions about the law so that then u guys can focus ENTIRELY on ur manifestations and not over complicate it bcuz the law is easy and you already know how to do it + if u have any general questions i've answered plenty of questions about the law in my blog ANYWAYS. the reason im doing this is so that then you can focus on your manifestations 🫶🏽 and i hope that you guys find it helpful.

HONEYS BEAUTY CORNER TOPIC - HYDRATION ;

when your skin is hydrated, you GLOW on such a deeper level and i absolutely love looking and feeling like a little dew drop so here's some hydration beauty tips

vasline is an occlusive, that simply means that the moisturizing ingredients that create a physical barrier on the skin to prevent transepidermal water loss and lock in hydration. after brushing ur lips to exfoliate, u can just go in and put some vaseline on ur lips and your lips will be HYDRATED.

using a body oil + a body lotion has taken my hydration game to new HEIGHTS. the key to this is to make sure the scents match or have similar notes at least, and moisturize DAMP skin so that then it can absorb better. walk around with a hand lotion, and lip moisturizer ALWAYS.

the key to a dewey makeup look is having a good base. its all about preparing the skin before u put the makeup on. use a good creamy moisturizer and use a glowy spf and then use a good primer.

FOR THE WELLNESS GIRLIES ;

hormone balancing tea blend that i tried and loved ; raspberry leaf tea with spearmint and dandelion root tea. i drink mine with honey a couple days before and during my period and my cramps have been so minimal and my hormones have been so balanced.

hydration ; to follow the trend of the beauty section lets talk hydration. the optimal amount of water to drink is 2.7 liters a day. if u wanna up your hydration game, use some liquid iv or another hydrating powder so that then u can get the most out of ur water. if u dont have anything like that, adding a pinch of salt into your water can also help to improve hydration.

frequencies and vibes ; i've been interested in frequencies lately, simply bcuz i think that they're so interesting. i'll go deeper into frequencies in the next section. but here are some frequencies to listen to for wellness ;

174 hz - reduces physical and energetic pain

285 hz - heals tissues and rejuvenates

432 hz - restores well being and releases emotional blockages

528 hz - love frequency, induces inner peace and repairs DNA

supplements that are geared towards beauty ; find a specific hair, skin and nails supplement or vitamin that includes a blend of powerful antioxidants, minerals and vitamins. some examples of this are ;

fish oil (omega 3 and fatty acids) helps to protect skin against inflammation

collagen (for skin hair and nails) promotes healthy dewy and glowing skin

turmeric (anti inflammatory effects)

PROBIOTICS

RANDOM THINGS I LEARNED ;

something thats caught my interest this month is sound healing. the power of sound is truly amazing, and i was curious specifically about frequencies. sound healing has been around for years by yogis for thousands of years. nowadays sound healing is practiced with something called sound baths.

a sound bath is a deeply relaxing experience where the listener lies down on a mat or blanket, with as many cushions or props as they need to feel comfortable, and is then ‘bathed’ in the sound vibrations. benefits of sound baths include ;

reduced stress, pain and anxiety

better sleep

lower blood pressure

fewer mood swings

balanced hormones

healing through sounds was practiced by ancient egyptians, greeks and chinese physicians, who also used sound healing in their practices to promote digestion, sleep, and emotional disturbances.

if learning a bit about sound healing interested you and you wanna learn a bit more about it, this is the source i used for this section.

FUN QUIZZES, VIDEO ESSAYS, RECIPES AND GAMES ;

valentines day aesthetic quiz - buzzfeed - i got daughter of aphrodite

consideration is the highest form of love - manifestelle - food for thought

good boyfriend quiz - seventeen

which romantic music type am i - buzzfeed - i got r&b enthusiast

valentines day cupcakes recipe ;

1 1/2 cup of flour

1 cup of butter milk

1/3 cups of oil

4 large eggs

mix it all together and add it into a lined cupcake tin, bake at 350° for 15 minutes. for the frosting...

1 cup of softened butter

6 cups of powdered sugar

1 tsp of strawberry extract

4 tbs of milk

CRUSH STORIES ;

SUBMISSION ONE : ANON : 💝

idk if this counts 😭 but my crush is an older guy (dw it's very legal) and he's so sweet, I manifested him liking me using your help!!! We're not together yet but he's been talking to me for literally hours a day, and just offered to buy me A NEW LAPTOP aaaah I'm crying. Ily honey your perfect

HBDSJHDJ YAYY. i wish u guys all the happiness and i hope u enjoy ur new laptop ✨

SUBMISSION TWO : ANON : 💝

technically not a crush but my ex boyfriend cheated on me (i broke up w him very quickly after) w my best friend and got her pregnant. he tried to make amends with me but I turned him down. i think i dodged a bullet there thank god 🫢

OH 💀. you def dodged a bullet, they went behind ur back and then got pregnant... 😭

thats all for this months catalog, there will be a new edition each month with new content and it'll be updated on a monthly basis so if thats something that interests you or if you like these kinds of posts pls let me know, till next month girlies✨

[edgeray]

hii edge! is it possible if i request an arlecchino/reader with beauty & the beast au :0? thank you so much in advance aaaaaa i love your writing so much it always makes my day^^

To Break a Curse

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Hi anon! Of course, here's going to be my reminder that if you request from me again as an anon, give yourself a name/emoji :). So I technically have already made a beauty and beast au (here is the link), but I suppose I could just rewrite the concept. The original au did differ a lot from the ‘disney’ version so for this one, so for this one, I will actually try to align this more with the disney version. Slightly dark because I'm not going to have talking kettles and candlesticks in here. Will be assuming gn! reader for this. Also I'm glad that you enjoy my works and bit sorry for the delay ^^ I am so sorry the ending is shitty at the end I am deadass about to fall asleep, I was this close 🤏 to falling asleep. I was typing with my eyes close lol. It's like 3:30AM for me so I'm gonna hit the hay. Maybe I should stop writing these at 12AM lol.  Content warnings / info - mean arle at the start, semi-graphic violence, prolly forgetting something but I'm tired, 2.7k words 

You've heard of the rumored forsaken prince, everyone in your village has. People rarely mention her by name, opting to call the cursed prince ‘the Beast,’ based on her animal-like claws and her temperament–just as vicious as a feral beast. The castle which she alone resides in sits on the outskirts of the forest next to your village. Every villager warns you to never trespass into the Beast's territory, unless you wished to never return. However, you've never believed in the existence of the Beast and her castle--after all, you've gone to the forests numerous times and have never encountered her. Perhaps this was just a way to scare off children from getting lost. 

Today, you learned how wrong you were. Venturing into the forest to forage for your dinner, you had accidentally delved too deep into the forest, now lost. Night approached soon as you searched for an escape or a shelter, but your search was unsuccessful.

Trudging through the forest, you heave for breath, your feet aching from traversing the rough terrain of the forest, not helped by the uncomfortable shoes you chose to wear. You thought that the foraging wouldn't take long but you found a large patch of mushrooms that led you deeper into the forest than you intended. You gaze up at the sky, it being pitch black with only the moonlight and the stars guiding you through. 

The shadows produced by the trees unnerve you, your imagination and paranoia warping them into abstract monsters stalking you. You know that there is nothing in the forest that can hurt you, unless the rare bear, but the knowledge didn't soothe you any more. You feel something hit your forehead–something light and small… and wet. It takes a couple more droplets before you realize it’s now downpouring. You bite your lip out of frustration, wrapping your arms around yourself to store as much body heat to yourself. Your footsteps speed up and you look more frantically, until you see something imposing in the distance. It's hard to make out in the fog, but it seems like the outline of some sort of building. 

You run towards it, only to be faced with a wall. You follow along it until you reach a gate, and behind the gate, you can vaguely make out a structure larger and more obscene than anything you've ever seen before; it looks nothing like the village establishments. If anything, it dwarfs your entire village as a whole, likely massive enough to fit your village inside based on the height alone. At least this would provide you shelter from the rain and cold, is the only consideration you make before pushing open the gates and rushing down the stone path. 

You nearly trip over the stone passage and as you arrive at the entrance, you soon realize it’s a castle. Its uncanny shape now makes some sense, but from then on lack of light through the windows, it seems like no one lives here. You press on, entering the castle. You’re thankful you're no longer being pelted by the rain and then you're immediately struck with awe from the decor and grandiose of the interior. Although the castle is unlit, you're still able to make out some details of the room you enter. Admiring the spiral staircase and the magnificent pillars, a thought strikes you. Why does no one inhabit the castle? 

Abruptly, there is the sound of something shuffling and it makes your marveling halt. Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach and fear clenches onto you tightly as the incessant terror of not being as alone as you though plagues you. Spinning around, you search for the origins of the sound only to scare yourself when you accidentally kick against a piece of furniture. You yelp out, before silencing yourself when you cognize it was nothing. 

And then a thud. And another, coming from behind you. Paralysis enraptures your body and before you have the time to breathe, a heavy weight crashes into you, making you tumble into the ground. You let out a scream, turning around to view what just struck you, and two glowing red orbs stare back at you. You gasp wildly, trying to scramble away when your throat is suddenly tightened and you're forced against the ground. It feels like claws are just barely brushing against your neck, threatening to puncture into you if you so much as breathe. A whimper escapes you and a whispered plea escapes you as you lock your eyes on the pair of red. 

“P-please…” 

A deep, resounding voice responds to you, causing shivers down your body. “What are you doing in my home?”

Tears well in your eyes and you try your best to speak as clearly as possible. “I-I'm sorry. I didn't k-know! I'll go, p-please let me go!” You beg, your hands raise to pry off the hand over your throat but a feral growl stops you. 

“Do you know whose home you intruded into?” 

You shake your head. The grip around your neck intensifies for a few moments.

“Speak.”

“N-no…” 

“This is my castle, Prince Arlecchino's. Though, the villagers like to call me something else… what was it, ‘the Beast?’”

You suck in an audible breath as your eyes grow wide. This is the Beast? The Beast is real? Then are the rumors of people disappearing in the castle true as well? What will happen to you? Your mind goes into a frenzy, with all the wonderings of what the Beast would do to you.

“P-please don't kill m-me…”

“Kill you? No,” the Beast answers coldly. The hold on your throat slackens and the Beast’s hand slips away. “I won't kill you. But you've trespassed my home. And for that, you will remain here, for the rest of your life.” 

“W-what? B-but,” you breath is caught when you feel a tug on your arm pulling you up to your feet, the same claws that pressed against your neck digs shallowly into your arm, making you wince. 

“This is your punishment,” the Beast says, its red pupils glaring down at you coldly. You gulp, but accept your fate. The Beast could easily kill you with one swipe of her hand. 

“Follow,” it instructs, and you do, trailing behind the Beast as it navigates the dark surroundings effortlessly, a testament to how long it's been here. You trip over another piece of furniture, making you stumble onto the ground. 

“I'm sorry–” you stammer out an apology immediately.

“Be quiet,” gruffed the Beast. You scramble to get up but feel yourself hoisted up, by the Beast presumably. You yelp from the sudden position, now carried in a bridal style–its hold is surprisingly gentle and its claws don't prick you.

“Where are you taking me?” You inquire, clutching onto the Beast’s shoulder–which for some reason shocks you that it’s firm just like any other human, although you know that the Beast is a human–when it goes up the staircase. 

“A guest chamber.”

“A guest chamber?” 

“Would you prefer the dungeon?”

“No… thank you… Prince Arlecchino.”

The Beast pauses its movements, halting in place. 

Your thoughts flood with anxiety, wondering if this would trigger a violent reaction from the Beast. “Did I offend you? I’m sorry, I really am.” 

“No. It's just been a long while since someone referred to me from my title.” The Beast continues walking, unaware of how its–her–words shattered your mindset. 

That's right, how could you forget? ‘The Beast’ is still a human, cursed or not. Perhaps Prince Arlecchino deserved being inflicted by a curse, but you could not imagine yourself with the fate instilled on the forsaken prince, nor being singularly called ‘the Beast’ by every waking person. It's dehumanizing and awfully isolating, and it makes you question how long it has been since she's been called that, how long it has been since she has been seen as a human. 

It makes your heart ache. 

You count the flight of stairs that she goes up, and then for the first time, you see orange light coming from one of the rooms at the end of a corridor–an open fire likely. As the Prince walks closer to the room, you're able to make out more details; it's a bedroom, but more apparently, you can finally see her. You tilt your head up, and you expectedly, yet unexpectedly at once, you view a very princely face: pale, flawless skin framed by snow white hair and ebony strands, and sharp jaw. Prince Arlecchino glances down at you, sharp cross-shaped pupils burrowing into you. Her expression seems curious of yours. 

“You do look like a prince…” you think out loud absentmindedly, your face flushing as you realize your verbalization. 

The Prince says nothing, thankfully, and doesn't note your fluster. You look away from her face and glance at her hands. Like you've heard from the villagers, they are black, as if dipped in ink and her nails are red claws. Though what the villagers have yet to mention was the markings on her forearm, which are, admittedly, entrancing. She finally sets you down once she enters her chamber, which is obviously well-lived in. 

Taking a nearby candle holder and a few logs of wood set nearby the hearth the Prince silently exits her room to go into the room next to hers. You follow her into the room, this one obviously not used but still has a lot of furniture. Using the logs and the candlestick, she ignites the hearth and what you assume is going to be your room fills with heat and light. 

“This is your room from now on. Do not ask for me for the rest of the night,” she gruffs, and closes the door behind her. Her footsteps go away towards the direction of her bedroom. 

You blink, reality setting in. You’re still in your wet clothes, but you can't do much but strip and wrap yourself in dry sheets. You do exactly that, before sinking into the bed. It's like how you imagine sinking into a cloud to be–you fall to slumber in the manner of minutes. 

— 

You do not see her until the next morning, when the sun finally peaks out and you're able to see where you walk. Exiting your room, you note that she's not in her chamber, and you wander the castle. A whiff of something metallic combined with a musk catches your attention and you travel down the stairs until you reach the ground floor. You spot a figure crouched over something, and when you near the sight more, you discover the Prince hunched over a deer carcass. A sickening rip makes you cringe as a limb is torn off from the body. 

“P-prince?” You ask hesitantly. The Prince turns, a calm expression over her face. Only a bit of blood smears her lips. 

“Yes?” 

“What are you doing?” 

“Eating. It is also for you.” 

You stew in silence long enough for the Prince to turn back and resume. “Prince Arlecchino, how long have you been surviving like this?” 

“Since I was cursed.” 

Your heart aches again. “It is raw.”

“Indeed.” 

“It cannot be good for you.”

“It is all I have.” 

It is a sad sight. You think that ‘the Beast’ fits her the best here, like a starved animal instead of a human trying to live. 

“Prince Arlecchino, if you allow me, I can improve your eating experience. It would be healthier for you and it would be more appealing to eat.” 

The Prince perks up her head, glancing back at you.

That day, the Prince learns of the wonders of cooked venison. And perhaps, you've never seen a brighter, warmer light than the one that glints in the Prince's at her first taste. 

—

“What is it that you're reading?” 

Arlecchino glances up from her book. “It is a romance novel.”

“I didn't think that you'd be interested in such things, Prince.” 

“You grow curious about things you do not have.” 

You frown and contemplate. It seems like… she's always wanted company. “Prince, may I ask you why you chose to isolate yourself here?”

The Prince remains quiet for several moments before she responds, in a voice uncharacteristically quiet. “The villagers do not accept my appearance.”

“Because of your curse?”

“Yes. They’re afraid of me. Of my eyes, of my hands. Of my strength.” 

“Have you not tried undoing the curse?”

She bitterly laughs. “There is nothing that breaks the curse. It is impossible.”

You narrow your eyes. “There must be something. There's no such thing as an unbreakable curse.”

“You are right. However, the conditions to break this one is… unobtainable.”

“What is it?”

 The Prince's gaze shifts from you to the stack of books that pile by her bedside. You recognize some of the titles from your village library–they were all in the romance category. You never realize until now that the Prince looks at them with a hopeless longing. “To be loved and to love, is what it is in simple terms.”

There is that heartache again. 

You shake your head, trying to any more painful thoughts circling around the Prince. “If you truly gave up on breaking your curse, you would not still be alive, would you?”

“I will not entertain this thought,” is all she says, but you know her answer already. 

You sigh. “Can I at least… read with you?”

The Prince tilts her head and pauses. A clawed hand grasps onto yours, and you're pulled into her lap. The steady heartbeat of Arlecchino's can be felt from the contact. 

— 

It takes several weeks for you to figure that the Prince does not enforce her punishment. You have escaped out of the castle before, if only to find more things to forage. She has seen you exit out of the castle but she does not chase you or force you to return back. Although you’d like to see the village again, you're also not sure if you do want to go back–the castle is quite comfortable and you’ve had enough of petty village squabbles. You wonder why it is that she doesn't stop you, why she was so forceful of it at the beginning. 

You recall the discussion regarding her curse. She had given up on finding a way to break her curse, however, she had always sought out company. Perhaps she had the punishment to force you to stay… to enjoy a company she has been able to for years. Now, Arlecchino has given up on you being a potential cure to her curse. It must be why she's no longer hesitant to let you go.  

But she is wrong. In those weeks you spend with her, you've learned much more about ‘the Beast.’ You've learned that she is kind in a quiet, observant manner. She's hunted for you, lit your fireplace, made your clothes. She cares for nature, appreciates its beauty and intricacy unlike anyone else you know. And she is romantic, some of the village men could not compare to her when she's read so many books. 

One day, a rose is left on your bed, no doubt collected on your bed. 

That night, you approach her room.

“Prince Arlecchino?”

“Yes?”

“The rose… thank you for it.” 

The Prince remains in silence, observing you with adoration in her eyes despite her bone chilling features. “You’re welcome.”

“Roses are often used as a way to confess,” you say. You know that she knows already, given the amount of books she read. “Is this what I think it is?”

Prince Arlecchino nods. Tentatively, she takes your cheek in her hand and cups it, her claws gently brushing over your skin. “Yes. I think I am in love with you.”

A smile forms on your face and you lean in to press your foreheads against one another, creating an intimate air. “I love you too, my dear Prince.” 

The two of you lean against one another, your lips meeting each other and you close your eyes. The Prince places a hand behind your head, pushing you closer. You don't notice that her nails are no longer red, nor are they sharp. She doesn't notice either. 

The ink from her arms wash away, and with that ‘the Beast’ is swept away, stolen away by you. Prince Arlecchino stands in place of the missing ‘Beast.’ 

[cosmicaces]

i've never been good at writing intros to posts and that isn't gonna change today, esp since only a handful of people are probably gonna read this. i am making this post for me, because this is something i noticed and i wanna talk about it. leave it to me to make a detailed post about a character from a movie from three years ago.

rody has pstd! let's talk about it

[ID: A screenshot from MHA: World Heroes' Mission. Rody is pointing at Deku, winking. Deku looks annoyed. End ID.]

to preface this:

i am not a professional 👍 i have ptsd 👍

analyzing characters is fun for me! this is how i am interpreting rody with what i know about him from the little media he's been in + some additional speculation. feel free to incorporate this into your belief system. or not! all that i ask is that you bear with me.

now, before i get into it (preface...2!):

everyone knows about fight or flight, right? well, did you know that there are actually 5 trauma responses? fight, flight, freeze, fawn, and flop. (there may be more, but these are the ones that have the most information on them.)

fight and flight are the body's primary responses to a bad situation. freeze, fawn, and flop are more complex responses that happen when the first two aren't available. little self-explanatory, but for the sake of infodumping:

freeze: the body is in a state of hyperarousal. the muscles are tight and ready for action but is ultimately paralyzed. think of a deer in headlights.

fawn/befriend/submit: this response involves complying/befriending the aggressor; people-pleasing in an effort to remain safe. this is more common in cases of abuse.

flop/shutdown/collapse: the body is in a state of hypoarousal, aka its shutting down; muscles go slack, brain stops receiving sensory info. this can often result in fainting. you know how some people faint when they see blood? or when they're on a rollercoaster? yeah, it's this.

it's important to have this context. as a matter of fact, you probably already know where i'm going with this:

rody faints when deku is climbing up the bridge. of course, right? he had reached such a heightened level of fear that, when his brain realized it couldn't trigger one of the other four responses, he just... flopped. why bring this up? well, and i think this is easy to miss, but rody didn't pass out once. he actually passed out twice.

when they first reached the train, it appears that, in their brief moment of safety, rody had collapsed.

[ID: Deku picks up Rody to shield him from Beros's oncoming arrow attack. End ID.]

[ID: Deku is carrying Rody, swinging under the bridge in an effort to evade Beros's attacks. At the end, Rody appears as though he is coming to. End ID.]

up until this point, rody had been freaking out during their escape from the police. for him to have no initial response to being physically moved by deku... hell, he looks like he's just coming to. if we're going based off of the dub, he even yells "what's happening?!" simply put: he shut down and, more specifically, he shut down in what had been perceived as a moment of respite.

the reason i point this out is because, while we don't choose our trauma responses, there are events that can impact what they can be.

so... what is the purpose of the flop response?

quoting from an article here, but it's thought to help people in three different ways: to reduce the mental impact of the circumstances, to cause a physical disconnect (thus experiencing the trauma less directly), and to prevent additional assault.

the point i'm trying to make here is, well...

[ID: A flashback showing Rody protecting his siblings. A villain strikes him with a pipe. End ID.]

rody's been assaulted! and this is only one instance that we know of. we don't fully know what he's had to go through when providing for his siblings, but there is no doubt that there have been negative repercussions on his mentality.

did you notice how he startles easily?

[ID: Rody puts his hand on Deku's shoulder, scaring him. His response startles Rody, causing him to flinch backwards. End ID.]

[ID: Bakugou suddenly appears behind Rody, causing him to jump. He flinches back, turning to face him. Pino is also startled, flying to sit over on his other shoulder. End ID.]

with ptsd, some people can develop an exaggerated startle response. this happens when your nervous system gets stuck in survival mode. your brain is hypervigilant; any sudden sound or movement that you don't expect can make you feel like you're in danger and your body has to be ready to react in a given moment.

look at the difference between how deku and rody flinch. deku has a standard flinch, but rody violently flinches, almost as though he's been struck. do you see how he moves his head? his arms? how, after both instances, he's starting to sweat? yeah 👍

continuing along this line of thinking, let's talk about rody's attempted betrayal.

[ID: Rody being approached by the oni villain. He braces himself for the attack, clutching at his head. End ID.]

i feel like most people, when cornered and under the imminent threat of being attacked, try to block it or defend from it in some way. rody... didn't do that. as a matter of fact, it looks like he's trying to hide.

[ID: Deku runs towards Rody, shielding him from an arrow. Rody panics and turns away. End ID.]

additionally, in this scene, rody is apologizing. in this moment, he sincerely believed that deku was going to hurt him for his betrayal. instead of trying to run, he just... froze. braced himself again. i know he was very scared, but, despite deku having just saved him, seeing his fear at being approached... psychologically, there's something else going on here.

i think rody had been re-traumatized.

again, we only have that one flashback regarding a violent encounter with villains, but i genuinely have reason to believe that it wasn't a one-off scenario. the only reason rody tried to fight was to defend his siblings. they are his reason for continuing forward. but... what if there were times when they weren't there? and he had to face the villains by himself?

... yeah. i think that's why he responded the specific way that he did. his life was actively in danger, yes, but how many times had he been in that position? pleading, trying to garner sympathy about his siblings, wanting to be let go? i think the severity of his psychological distress in that instant is what caused him to try and hide rather than attempt to minimize any incoming damage.

as for feeling threatened by deku, that can be easily explained, too. rody talked quite a bit about betrayal, it seemed like a very natural thing to talk about. he's probably had to betray some villains and gotten hurt for it. honestly, you could probably argue that this contributed to his confusion regarding deku protecting him instead.

similarly with starting posts, i am also very bad at ending them 👍

tldr; rody soul has ptsd as a result of his encounters with villains after his father's disappearance. this has given him an exaggerated startle response as well as both a freeze/collapse response in times where his life is threatened. who knows what other symptoms he may have! what we can say for sure is that this kid needs therapy.

if you read all this, thanks! i hope you enjoyed me dissecting him like a bug.

[catboybiologist]

Y'all ready for a certified neurodivergent moment?

I had to sit through a thing I absolutely did not need any info from, and typed up a massive outline of the soulsborne pokemon game I just talked about. Massively cringe, yes, but hey it's not just living in my head anymore.

I've had this idea brewing in my head for a while now, pretty much ever since PLA came out (and I found it kinda disappointing tbh). Even though Hoenn has lots of love, it still feels like the most "grand" region in terms of the scale and themes of its lore, so I liked the idea of using it for a legends game that focused on the initial clash of Kyogre and Groudon. I had so many ideas brew in my head, and I guess now I sloppily typed them out.

Obviously this isn't actual game design. This is just me being cringey and detailing my dream pokemon game. At 26 years old. Anyways.

Pokemon Legends: Jirachi

In the times when Hoenn was young, the earth and seas shook. Titans roam the land- powerful individual pokemon that shape their environment to their liking. Humans and pokemon work together to keep them under control, but the earth and sea themselves shake, and Titans only grow more numerous. One day, a human wishes on a shooting star to become a hero and save their land, and something from up there answered.

In this game, Jirachi would be a kind of invisible "questmaster", giving an in-game reason for path markers, quest markers, and points of interest marked in stardust and sparkles. Once the main plot is completed, Jirachi would be able to join your party.

Core combat

The gameplay would be souls-like or Monster Hunter like, but with direct parallels to mainline pokemon mechanics. The six stats would be the same, and the four moves your pokemon can learn would be equivalent to the attack interface of a soulslike game- four trigger buttons. You would take direct control of one "primary" pokemon at a time, and use it as a souls-like character.

HP, Def, and SpDef would be largely the same, with the added benefit that less damage taken means more resistance to trips and staggers.

Atk and SpAtk are also pretty clear cut, scales your damage output per move.

Speed would be analogous to stamina or endurance. Dodging would work as in soulsborne games, and consume stamina. Most pokemon walking, running, attack speed, and dodging speed would be largely equivalent, but high speed pokemon would be able to sustain rapidfire attacking, frequent dodging, and continuous sprinting for longer.

Accuracy would be reworked into lock-on or charge up time- eg, a low accuracy move requires you to stay in one place for a longer amount of time before releasing, to charge up or lock on (imagine how swag ass this would look with focus blast).

PP would correspond to cooldown time. Each move would be infinite use, but have a cool-down after its used. So a move with high accuracy, but low PP, could be used instantly, but not spammed. High PP, weaker moves would then see an increased niche as a "default" light attack that can be spammed.

Attacks could also be ranged, up close, AoE, and have other features that would need to be tweaked and balanced in implementation. They wouldn't one to one map onto their in game counterparts, but this would at least provide a vague guide for how these moves work that builds on players assumed existing knowledge of pokemon games.

Special attributes, like never-miss moves and priority moves, would have features that play into this- eg, priority moves could be spammed with no cooldown, and never-miss moves would be immune to inhibiting effects.

Stat changes could be temporary effects applied to yourself when using the move, like a buffing spell in soulsborne games.

Nonvolatile status effects (paralysis, burn, sleep, etc) would work similar to monster hunter- invisibly accumulating triggers that occur as a side effect to to moves, or in the case of moves that directly trigger status like Spore or Thunder Wave, they would not do direct damage, but instead add massive amounts to the accumulated status trigger.

Field effects (weather, terrain, and special effects like wind, gravity, etc) could be set by regular pokemon moves in small areas, but would also be frequently encountered in the overworld.

Examples: the vibes of potential starter pokemon.

This is all just for the purpose of giving examples of how I envision some of this stuff working. Assume each pokemon would have regional variants that scaled their stats appropriately. This is just to show how different playstyles from the mainline games would translate to this format.

Lucario: example mixed offensive pokemon

Moves like aura sphere could be used with no lock on time, and little to no cooldown, forming the basis of a normal, light, ranged attack.

Moves like Close Combat would have no lock on, but give a temporary debuff and have a long cooldown time before they could be initiated again, making for a quick to use but infrequent heavy attack.

Swords dance and/or nasty plot could be used to provide a temporary buff for a period of time.

Focus blast would take a long time to charge and lock on, making you a sitting duck.

Reuniclus: example tanky pokemon

Light Screen and Barrier could lay down static areas on the ground. When an ally pokemon is located within them, they provide their corresponding defensive buffs. Cooldown for reusing them starts when these floor areas disappear.

Recover could be used to heal, but would have a long cooldown.

Liepard: example technical pokemon

Yawn would inflict direct sleep "buildup", but over time as opposed to instantly.

Fake out would instantly proc a stagger from the enemy, but could only be used in a certain time range upon being sent out.

Moves like taunt and torment function as usual.

The trainer and overworld traversal

Even though the player has direct control over pokemon, the MC is still a trainer, and pokemon are still capture in balls.

The trainer would be on the sidelines, with idle animations ordering the pokemon to do stuff.

Only one "controllable" pokemon could be outside of a pokeball at a time, or all of them could be stowed in pokeballs to directly control the trainer. The trainer can interact with NPCs, gather items, etc.

The trainer would also order "helper" pokemon. One or two "helpers" could be added independent of the party that would follow the trainer around constantly. Each pokemon has a list of field "helper" abilities they're capable of doing, independent of what moves they know. By targeting something that a helper pokemon can interact with in the world, the trainer would order that pokemon to zip out and interact with it. Think Republic commando. This takes the role of HMs and other field moves. For areas that require things like Surf of dive, the helper pokemon would exert a field of influence that essentially allowed the primary pokemon to act normally- eg, a surf helper would cause an area of surging upwards surface chop that lets the primary pokemon walk on water, or a dive helper would create small air bubbles centered around wherever the primary pokemon breathes from.

The trainer can also provide small support in the form of items, but this would be limited to encourage sensible use of stat boosting moves.

Pokemon would still be captured in pokeballs, but after they are fainted by the primary pokemon. Fainted pokemon could either be captured in a pokeball, or "relieved" of unique held items and resources before releasing them.

Pokemon would not gain experience by defeating opponents. Instead, each one would have material requirements to both level up and "customize" them. Like upgrading a weapon in Monster Hunter, every pokemon would have unique material requirements to level up, change nature, upgrade IVs, allocate EVs, or learn and relearn certain moves. This incentivizes a postgame loop, but could be curved to make the main game give you adequate materials to avoid excessive grinding.

The gameplay and story structure

The gameplay loop is basically monster hunter.

There would be a large number of normal-sized pokemon out in the world, that could be easily defeated and either captured and looted. But, frequently, a "Titan" would appear- a large, boss variant of a particular pokemon. Some pokemon can only be captured from their defeated titan forms, even if they appear in their regular forms.

These titan forms would appear semi-randomly, and requests to "quiet" them by defeating them would take the form of quests posted in the hub regions. These quests would then essentially be a monster hunter hunt- going out and fighting a particular titan.

Titan forms could be unique, or vaguely modeled after existing megas.

The world is divided into 8 main regions, and at least one "bonus" region. There would be 4 ocean regions, and 4 land regions. Each region would be seperate, but open to explore within that region (damn you can really see how much I've played MH:W)

Each region would have a drop table of pokemon that could potentially appear as titans.

Each region would also have one, single titan pokemon that gives the region its character. These 9 titans would be new, unique regional variants.

Each region, and by extension, each boss titan, would be directly associated with a different regional effect. So essentially, the boss titan and the field effect of a region would be reflective of its character.

The plot, like monster hunter, would be a gameplay loop of increasingly powerful titans within a region, building to the boss titans of each region. Once the 8 primary titans are defeated, it triggers the endgame main plotline.

The world

As mentioned previously, the bulk of the gameplay loop and storyline would be defeating increasingly more powerful "titan" pokemon, until you encounter a particular individual pokemon that is actively shaping that region and has ultimately caused the other titans along the way to be empowered.

Each region would have a dominant type, several field effects that come and go within certain parts of the area, and a unique boss titan. Each boss titan is about equivalent difficulty, and the player is encouraged to spread their efforts around to proceed through the "tiers" of titans evenly across the world before making it to the boss.

Hubs: Slateport, Lilycove.

Self explanatory, these would be the hub towns. Like in PLA, no other cities would be founded yet. Mt. Pyre would be integrated as part of Lilycove, and important characters and exposition could happen there. It would be an active cathedral. Kyogre and Groudon wouldn't be "known", but vague, amorphous titans of earth, sea, and sky would be referenced.

Land Regions

Meteor Cliffs and the Tranquil Plain

A gentle, grassy plain south of Mt. Chimney gives way to its southern slope. The slope, pockmarked with craters, has not been extensively explored, but is thought to hold deep caverns.

Regional effect: Pyschic Terrain

Regional Titan boss: Metagross (Steel/Pyschic)

Main game route equivalents: Meteor Falls, Rustboro City, Petalburg Woods, Petalburg City, Oldale Town, Littleroot town, 101, 102, 103, 104, 116, 115

Towering Forest

A deep, lush forest, sometimes so dense that you can't see the sky, fed by the crystal clear river cutting through it. The tangle of the canopy shudders under the weight of unseen pokemon above.

Regional effect: Grassy Terrain

Regional Titan boss: Tropius (Grass/Steel)

Main game route equivalents: Fortree city, Safari Zone, 119, 120, 121, 123

Jagged Stones

Deep, rugged canyons hide a basin-like desert, where a raging sandstorm elicits mirage-like visions.

Regional effect: sandstorm

Regional Titan boss: Tyranitar (Rock/Dragon)

Main game route equivalents: Verdanturf town, 117, 111, 112, all desert subregions

Volcanic Slopes

The peaks, caverns, and North slope of Mt. Chimney know no peace from the continuous onslaught of lava.

Regional effect: harsh sunlight

Regional Titan boss: Camerupt (Fire/Ground)

Main game route equivalents: Mt. Chimney, Jagged Pass, Fiery Path, Lavaridge, Fallarbor, 113, 114

Oceanic regions

Thunder Bay

An unrelenting, static haze hovers over the inlets of of Thunder Bay, impeding exploration of its deep subterranean caverns.

Regional effect: electric terrain

Regional Titan boss: Manectric (Electric/Dark)

Main game route equivalents: Mauville, New Mauville (replaced by a cave entrance), Cycling Road, 118, 110, 134, 133

Shifting Floes

A chill falls over the NorthEast seas of Hoenn, a climatic anomaly. Scattered islands and shifting ice platforms are continually coated with a snowstorm.

Regional effect: snowstorm

Regional Titan boss: Froslass (ice/ghost)

Main game region equivalents: Mossdeep, Shoal cave, 124, 125, parts of 126 and 127

Misted islands

A mysterious area of the ocean in which islands seem to shift locations as they phase in and out of sight.

Primary Area effect: Misty Terrain

Regional Titan Boss: Altaria (Dragon/fairy)

Main game route equivalents: Dewford Town, Granite Cave, Southern Island, Mirage Island (location changed), 105, 106, 107, 108, 109

Deep Blue

The open expanse of the ocean, and the islands within it, hold secrets beyond comprehension in their depths and constant storms. It is said that there is as much below as there is above.

Primary Area effect: rain/underwater (same effects as rain)

Regional Titan Boss: Wailord (water)

Main game route equivalents: Sootopolis city, Cave of Origin, Sky Pillar, Ever Grande City, Pacifidlog, Seafloor cavern, 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, parts of 126 and 127

Special Area: the Delta Stream

Ripping across Hoenn's skies is an air current known as the Delta Stream, which powerful pokemon use as a causeway between regions and across the world.

Only accessible in the postgame, and with a "helper" pokemon that can fly. This entire region is above the clouds, and the only points that poke up are the peak of Mt. Chimney, Sky Pillar, and an updraft over Mt. Pyre.

Primary area effect: tailwind

Regional Titan Boss: Salamence (Flying/Dragon)

The Endgame Plot: after the titans are quieted

Once every boss has been defeated, the endgame storyline starts. Despite every titan being quieted, the land still quakes, and the seas still swell. The elders of Mt. Pyre urge you to investigate these at their source: the inner lava chamber of Mt. Chimney (subregion of Volcanic Slopes), and the depths of the seafloor (subregion of Deep Blue).

As you can probably guess, this is the introduction to Kyogre and Groudon.

The first fight with each of them uses your own pokemon, and gives you a "false" win- after you "faint" them in a suspiciously easy battle, they each revive into their primal forms, and head to the mountain island that would become Sootopolis. Hear, they battle on a kaiju-like scale. The MC watches the destruction from Mt. Pyre.

For the second time in the game's story, the MC makes a wish: this is beyond me. I wish a savior would come. Jirachi directly unveils itself for the first time to answer the call, touches the MC, and speeds off into the distance. A cutscene follows Jirachi to Sky Pillar (only a raw, uncarved spike of rock at this point), where Rayquaza is seen coiled around the top. Jirachi leads Rayquaza into the upper atmosphere, where it undergoes a primal/mega evolution. It pivots, shooting down towards earth, building speed.

The player takes control of M-Rayquaza as it slams down to earth, staggering Kyogre and Groudon away from each other, and engages in a special fight where they have to defeat both of them.

After this, Kyogre, Groudon, and Rayquaza may each be found at Seafloor cavern, Mt. Chimney, and sky pillar respectively, and may be defeated and captured. But its highly implied that they only go along with this willingly, and will freely resume their duties as the lords of the land once the MC passes on.

After the plot is completed, steps and murals start being carved into Sky Pillar, allowing access to the Delta Stream.

The post game would allow for infinitely generating Titans, rematches with previously captured Boss Titans as "enrichment" for them, and general gameplay loop grinding for items to train pokemon.

Yay, okay, no ones gonna read this far but uh. Yeah. That's the general idea I had. Hope it made at least some sense LOL

[hystixia]

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I told my father to stop touching my cat because his hands smell?

🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋 -> so I can find it easier

Okay so I (f19) still live with my parents (m57 f51) and I decided to adopt a cat. After some talking they said they didn't mind a pet in the house (this was a change of heart btw, we never had a pet, they were always super strict about it) but I will be the one raising him. No problem there. Anyway, it's been a year now and they both have grown to love the little guy a lot and are actually taking care of him too.

Now here's the issue: my father doesn't wash his hands. It's enough to make me feel sick at the thought, but I avoid him and never touch him and barely interact with him. But sometimes he'll come over to where I'm sitting with the cat or where my cat is napping and he'll rub at the back of his head (the point the cat cant lick himself clean) and coo at him.

I noticed a few days ago, when I was inhaling his fur, as one does, and suddenly that part reeked. Then I noticed it more often, and it didn't take long to connect the dots. The worst part is that he usually finds the cat just as he's done with the bathroom. ITS DISGUSTING. My poor baby doesn't deserve to be touched with filthy hands. I'm always quick to clean him but the fact he's been touched makes me sick.

Two things you need to know about my father: 1) He is bad person. I won't get into details cause it will turn into an essay, but the more I know about him, the more distance I put between us. 2) The only correct thing he's done is provide for his children without complain or ever asking for anything back.

One thing you need to know about the family dynamic: My father's hygiene is a topic of discussion that comes up a lot in the recent years (by me to my mom), and her response always is that he's tired and he does so much for us, so are we really going to humiliate him over such trivial matters? (The matters are NOT trivial. He is genuinely disgusting).

One thing you should know about me: I have started arguments over his disgusting hygiene before and he instantly turns into a child going, "blah, blah, yeah, yeah, whatever, are you done?" which makes me become even more vile and mean and in the end he secretly tells my mom my behavior hurt him (and acts like a wounded dog) so that she will come and tell me that I broke my father's heart. Same formula each time.

So look. If I tell him he'll react the same way, and although I'm working on not feeling guilty over things like that, I'm not yet there. I know if I repeat the argument a couple times he'll get the memo and be so humiliated he'll stay away from the cat entirely. I also know that my mother will start a cold war with me if I do so. But I care about my cat a lot more, and I don't want dirty hands touching him.

So far I'm always taking the cat away before my father gets to touch him, distracting him with toys and TV mice. But I won't always be home to supervise.

So do you think it's an asshole move to essentially shame my father for the sake of my cat not coming in contact with germs?

Fyi the hygiene thing started in his 50s, he wasn't like that before

What are these acronyms?

[ginaluvr]

rating the changes between tmr book and movie

anyone who read the books first knows that the movie trilogy ended up telling a completely different story. i've been a big fan of the books forever so i thought i'd rate the significant changes made in the first one since it's generally the same plot. scale is 0-5 with 5 being good change.

the gladers initially not remembering their names: 3/5. maybe it was done to raise the stakes and make it more disorienting.

there are no real buildings in the glade: 1/5. this implies they had to start completely from scratch when they first arrived, which makes the maze seem like a test of survival rather than willpower and psychology.

leading on from that... the maze is actually outdoors: 0/5. you're telling me they had rain and lots of greenery in an outdoor structure in a desert climate? and the gladers had no real shelter provided? it also makes the test of their determination less powerful, because in the books, the maze was an indoor structure. the fact that they could technically climb the walls and see the outside world in the movies removes some of hopelessness and frustration for me.

ben is a runner: 4/5. makes sense! especially since we never learned how he got stung as a builder in the books.

the gladers are allowed to have a bit of fun: 5/5. i love the bonfire scene. i think it's a realistic change that a bunch of teenage boys would want to let loose every now and then.

they were there 3 years instead of 2: 4/5. i mean, sure.

no one has ever seen a griever before and survived: 0/5. makes no sense at all because the gladers are aware of the changing as a process! if no one has ever survived encountering a griever, where did they get this precedent from? how did they recognise that ben was stung? perhaps this info was just newt being dramatic since it comes from his dialogue.

they don't have grief serum until teresa arrives: 1/5. again, doesn't make sense. the changing being a process they're familiar with which brings back memories after they get the serum is entirely destroyed in the movie. this is the catalyst for a lot of the events in the book and it loses all its function.

several of the characters are different in personality: varies. thomas is more typically 'cool' in the movie and less curious and, to put it bluntly, less annoying. i don't like this change much, his constant curiosity and eagerness to learn and discover was a huge part of who he was in the books (if you know mbti, all i have to say is he was an INTP in the books and an ISTP in the movies). then we have minho, who was way less brash, hot headed, and reckless in the movies (he was also made into an ISTP while he was an ESTP in the books). i think alby is a bit different. i like both portrayals of alby, but i think he seemed nicer and more chill in the movie, probably just because the actor was very charismatic. this works because he can easily be charismatic as a leader. but him also being a stressed out kid with too much responsibility in the books, leading to him lashing out more and being less calm and collected, makes sense! gally is a bit nicer, actually rational at times, in the movie. he's also not, like, pathetic and embarrassingly petty. these are all traits in the book which emphasise the fact that he's a scared kid, so this also isn't my favorite change ever.

thomas gets memories back in his dreams: 1/5. unnecessary and completely removes the high stakes of him having no recollection of his involvement with WICKED.

minho doesn't find a dead griever: 3/5. at least they still accounted for why alby had to go into the maze. i still wish they did it.

alby was alone in the glade for a whole month: 1/5. it is not logical that someone would be able to run a whole farm and build shelter all alone at 15 years old without any help. it also doesn't make sense that he wouldn't have gotten killed in the maze on accident.

teresa doesn't come up one day after thomas: 2/5. i guess it doesn't really matter, but this is just one element of the timeline being quite different that wasn't necessary to change.

minho helps thomas save alby in the maze: 0/5. this is thomas's first big act of heroism and the thing that makes minho respect him. they should've kept thomas doing it alone.

the grievers are completely different: 2/5. i understand that this is probably a design issue for the movie, but the book concept of the grievers is better.

the maze is completely different: 1/5. i don't like the movie maze... why is it a circle. the idea of the 8 square sections that are repeating and consistent makes the maze so much more frustrating and bewildering! also that part in the movie where the walls start to fall and the floors come up... why. there's also no code hidden in the walls, which was a very cool element.

no cliff/griever hole: 2/5. not terrible because this would be hard to show on screen. but the fact that instead, in the movie, there is just a visible section that the runners never found before is a bit unrealistic.

gally never went through the changing: 0/5. gally's hatred for thomas in the movie is baseless, while in the book it's clearly about suspicion and fear. he's an understandable antagonist in the book.

thomas and teresa don't have telepathy: 3/5. would've been hard to portray on screen. takes away from the depth of their connection, however.

the gladers give up too easily: 0/5. this one bothers me! when all the other runners in the movie randomly quit their jobs. the whole point in the books is that they'd never do that.

thomas is looked to as a leader: 0/5. when he starts giving orders in the movie and leads the charge into the maze.... ughhh. again i think they tried to make him a more cool and admirable protagonist, but i think a big part of the books is that thomas never saw himself as particularly special, or a leader. he couldn't have done anything he did without minho's, newt's, alby's, teresa's etc skill, authority, support. they were a team and a family. instead, in the movie, they start to follow him without question when he was barely there five days.

the grievers don't only kill 1 glader per night: 2/5. adds tension but also takes away from the fact that the maze again wasn't a test of survival.

alby's and chuck's deaths were essentially swapped: 0/5. i really dislike this change. they took away the fact that alby's fear changed him, and that his last act was both selfless and scared. in the movie he just died on accident. then i think chuck actually chose to sacrifice himself in the movie, when in the books he was forced to as a variable by WICKED. this absolutely takes away from the utter pointlessness of chuck's death, and it's also ooc for a scared 12 year old to choose to die when he so badly wanted to escape.

thomas had no real reason to sting himself: 0/5. he already had memories coming back in dreams and they already believed they had found an escape in the maze. he literally had no reason to go through the changing in the movie and it's a bit overdramatic for no reason.

people take gally seriously as a leader: 2/5. this only happened because alby got killed off early in the movie.

this is one of my least favorite changes so i saved it for last. nalby erasure: 0/5. the movies definitely take away that alby was newt's best friend and the person he cared for and protected most. likewise, in the books, thomas's favorite and most prioritised glader (along with teresa) was actually always minho. although thominho wasn't erased as much in the movies, the fact that those two pairings were the strongest bonds we ever got between the boys in the books isn't really there in the movies. i think the movies allowed people to forget that newt being canonly gay actually means alby is his most likely love interest!