#this is basic vocabulary what the fuck is wrong with me

[prossima-nebulosa]

Talking about English I was watching infinity train cause someone mentioned it on twitter and somehow i found all episodes but they had no subtitles so i thought "well you know english, were is the issue?"

Apparently, the issue is that i'm so used to have subtitles on (in English) that i couldn't make out words that i knew because i couldn't discern the sounds.

It was quite hard, especially for those who had an accent and most of the script is pretty... well, it makes zero sense because it was all in context with whatever was going on in the car, so anyway this is what you get when you always rely on subtitles.

You focus too much on them instead of hearing what the fuck they're actually saying-

[fingertipsmp3]

Good evening I have just realised that my best friend is dating someone who is basically me but in male form

[headspace-hotel]

facts about The Fear, after 20 years of life with her

The Fear is NOT:

an intruder, invader, or some other entity from "outside" You

inappropriate, wrong, or incorrect

a responsibility

a punishment

"irrational" or otherwise able to be understood through a relationship to "rationality"

an "inaccurate" representation of reality

The Fear IS:

an innate part of you

extra-rational—she exists outside and completely independent from "rationality" and does not respond to being judged according to that lens

self-love—her purpose is to protect you and keep you safe

self-sufficient—fear is a 100% whole, complete entity that doesn't "represent" or "reflect" something else

earnest—fear is always a 100% real experience that is exactly as it is felt, and, needing no comparison or reference to any external reality, it is not "dishonest" or "inaccurate"— it asserts a claim about only itself

subversive [not quite the word I am looking for but it will have to do]— is not necessarily beholden to social and cultural norms of what should be feared, how much, and how you should respond. She does not stop existing in the absence or suppression of vocabulary to describe her.

a demand for care— she does not just communicate to you but to the community you are part of; she calls attention to an obligation that this community has toward you, to make sure that you are safe within it and that your experiences are heard and understood.

yeah, so, i've had severe anxiety for my whole life and the way it's been treated and dealt with, and the way I've been taught to understand it, has really fucked me up so I am trying to lay the groundwork for understanding it differently

I think it's pretty fucked up that we're taught to see anxiety as deceptive or inaccurate. Now, obviously the images or projections in my fearful thoughts do not usually "reflect reality," but I have come to see this as...not particularly important?

Teaching an anxiety sufferer to restructure their thoughts to dismiss and contradict "irrational" fear is, in my opinion, the same as teaching a chronic pain sufferer to restructure their thoughts to dismiss and contradict pain with no clear physical source. You might as well speak of "irrational" pain, and pain has the same relationship to rationality that fear has.

"Irrationality" is a quality assigned to fear that is judged by an outside observer, or by the collective cultural biases and hang-ups of a society, as not appropriate to a given situation. This is total fucking nonsense and we should be talking about that, because...well, the first reason is that it implies some kind of fixed standard for what fear ultimately is and isn't for. i like to tell people to watch one of those Coyote Peterson videos where he's going to get a tarantula hawk wasp to sting him, because he's obviously having a strong physical fear response, even though he knows it won't kill him. Is it "rational" to fear suffering and not just death? How much suffering? Sit with that one a little while.

The second reason, which is even more convincing, is that the "rational" brain is not consulted at any point, ever, when a person feels afraid. It's just a response. The fear response is not routed through the conscious, sapient, reasoning brain. And thank God, because if we needed to hear back from an upstairs executive before we could decide whether to run from a lion, our species would be extinct.

Techniques like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy were absolute fucking shit at making my life any better, but fantastic at wrecking my ability to identify my own emotions, because Cognitive Behavioral Therapy for anxiety basically amounts to trying to brainwash yourself into thinking you don't feel the emotions that you do. It's a really neat way to develop bizarre psychosomatic symptoms and start experiencing anxiety through constant body pain, swollen lymph nodes, and digestive issues.

For an institution that pathologizes having "alters," psychiatry sure loves to encourage a suffering person to view normal and ultimately good parts of themselves as distinct, intruding entities to be shoved in a closet somewhere.

And yes. Fear is ultimately a good part of you, a part of you that loves you.

What began to set me free was feeling that acid terror and sickness and rage course through my body and realizing—really realizing—that I was being illuminated with this ancient, powerful force driving me to LIVE.

I want us to make it. I want you to live.

And you know what, I want me to live too.

I abandoned the doctrine of calming down—Lord knows it had never worked anyway—and started really just exploring and existing in the Fear.

How did that feel? Bad. Very very very very very bad and really not productive or helpful at all initially. Which was unavoidable. Necessary. She had been frantically clawing to communicate with me for so long, and I had been shutting her away, silencing her, resenting her presence in my psyche. I started trying to show gratitude toward the signals my body gave me. I started trying to show gratitude toward her—and i guess the Fear was a Her now, this just seemed more respectful.

And it seemed like nothing happened, but several things happened.

I stopped searching for validation. That was a big one. At some point I just...stopped needing a "reason" or justification for the fear I felt (trauma???? neurodivergence???? neurodivergence trauma????) and the fact that I experienced it became completely sufficient and satisfying to me. So much guilt and confusion disappeared.

I also became steadily more confident about my own boundaries, particularly in regards to recovery.

It's awful now that I think about it, but I think I felt this sense of almost moral obligation towards "recovery," as if I needed to "overcome fear" to be Courageous and Virtuous. It made me feel crushing guilt to feel any hesitation about this.

But then this started to change. It became more real to me that was the only person affected by the steps I did or didn't take toward recovery, and there was no moral dimension to it. A therapist couldn't put me in a box I wouldn't willingly go into.

Freedom from these judgmental frameworks is really important to me. I think that I always hated the idea of getting "better" because it seemed like "better" would mean just getting better at submitting to things I was afraid of while everything felt just as bad as it always did on the inside.

And on some level—even though I could never put it into words at the time—I violently hated the idea of "recovery" from some of my fears because it seemed like the ultimate denial of agency. I didn't want to "become okay with it"—the possibility felt dehumanizing. It felt awful.

And I realize now that this is because The Fear represented something I needed to have a right to. Many of my most life-destroying fears centered around things being done to my body, and if I could have pressed a button and been no longer afraid, I wouldn't have, even though it would have spared me so much suffering, because...I needed it to be okay to want agency over my body. I needed it to be right. The Fear, in this case, was a demand that my body be treated as sacred.

I realized that there were many cases where The Fear was a territorial claim of sorts, a demand that certain needs be honored and met—She needs this. This is FUCKING non-negotiable.

And it really...prompted me to look backward on my life and see The Fear differently: not as a responsibility I had failed to shoulder (me?? a little child??? responsible?? Responsible for being brave, when every day felt like facing a firing squad?????) but as a collective responsibility

Because I was not alone in those memories—I was surrounded by adults that saw me suffering, and often dismissed, ignored or ridiculed it. The Fear grew larger and larger; why?—to protect me. Because teachers, nurses, doctors, and camp counselors did not do any of the thousand thousand things they could have done to make that little girl feel safe. Because my well-meaning parents praised me when I was "brave" but I, a little kid, literally couldn't communicate how awful it always felt.

The Fear was not there to torture me. The Fear was and is doing her best to keep me safe. It's not wrong, there's no need for guilt. It just is.

It doesn't feel good. But maybe one day it will feel better.

[shomixremix]

I miss Kaveh sm :(( so can i req kaveh with a reader who is inexperienced and is too nervous to ask something during their session?? (Bonus points if reader gets flustered easily)

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE ♡︎

this is my first ever reqs, i'm so excited!! thank you anon <33 i haven't yet met kaveh in game (i swear i explored fontaine and sumeru i just never got around to doing his story quest, or maybe i just didn't really notice him in the archon quest??), but all the more reason to do it!! he's such a cutie, i love him (and his relationship with alhaitham👀) so muchh

tags: kaveh, female! reader, smut, loss of virginity, first time, teasing

-> your first time with kaveh, who knows very well how flustered he makes you, and uses that to his advantage ♡︎

reqs open ♡︎ | minors DNI

he had planned this for so long, and now it was finally happening. kaveh was going to fuck you.

he knew just how badly you wanted this - and how badly you couldn't say it. his sweet girlfriend, although the pride and joy of the akademiya, was always so sweet, so deliciously flustered and shy. you couldn't just voice your needs to him!

but kaveh wasn't dumb, in fact, it was quite the opposite. he very well noticed how you would squirm on his lap when the two of you would make out in his studio, how you'd softly sigh whenever his hands would accidentally brush your more sensitive spots, how you'd fiddle with your fingers nervously when you ask him for something so chaste and simple as a small kiss.

so, he took the matters into his own hands.

he basically bribed al haitham to get lost for a few hours, and have the place all to himself. the scribe very much so obliged, not very keen on hearing what goes on in kaveh's bedroom.

it wasn't as if you were uncomfortable under the blonde; he was your boyfriend, after all! even your vast vocabulary didn't have a word quite perfect enough to describe how you felt under him - flustered, perhaps?

"what's wrong, love?" he chirped as he kissed you, his chest discarded of the signature white shirt and his sunshine strands ruffled. his figure isn't particularly large and he is quite a lean man, yet you still felt quite intimidated as you were laid on his soft covers under him, your head nestled on the pillow against the headboard.

"n-nothing, kaveh, i just.." you just wanted more. more kisses, more touches, more love, more of him. all of him. yet, it felt too embarrassing to ask.

"you just, what?" he asks sweetly, a smug smile on his face. he knew exactly what you wanted, yet he very much enjoyed teasing the life out of you.

you mumble something into your chin, lowering your gaze and hiding your flushed face in his shoulder. the architect chuckles, kissing the tip of your ear softly.

"i cannot believe akademiya's most prized researcher is too nervous to ask her boyfriend for something..." he breathes out a soft laugh, "go on, baby. you know i'll do anything you ask. it's okay, y/n, it's just me"

just him? just the most handsome, most adorable, most butterfly-inducing scholar you've ever met?

"i.. um.." you stutter all over your words as you try to voice your wishes. "could you..?"

"i could most certainly" he grins widely, one hand soothing your side. "but i must say, i'm not quite sure what you mean, baby"

oh, how mean he was being, making you say all you wanted when he knew how embarrassed and shy you were!

only in his briefs, the architect slowly parts your soft thighs and nestles himself in between them, his growing erection coming in contact with your wettened panties.

"is this what you want, my love, heh? do you want me to take you? is that what you're trying to ask for, y/n?"

your face turns 50 shades darker and your voice seems to stop working as he asks such a lewd and suggestive question. the tips of your ears and your chest are burning with your blush, hot blood running straight to your head. you cover your face with your palms in an attempt to hide yourself from his very amused gaze.

you were a dignified researcher, someone known to not get lost in emotion and use their head to make logical conclusions to your studies. you have always been praised for your natural leadership skills, never being too proud or too shy to voice anything your research needed.

kaveh seemed to completely destroy all of that, reducing you to a blushing, flustered mess under him.

he didn't yet push your pretty, green panties aside and sink into you, and you were already flustered beyond belief!

"i.. i have never done this, before.." you admit, afraid your inexperience will turn the blonde away. instead, kaveh smiles softly, continuing to very slowly and very carefully grind onto you.

"heh, not a problem, love. i'll show you, hm? you just need to trust me and tell me what feels good. can you do that?"

you bite your lip to suppress a moan, nodding slowly.

one of his hands travels down your body, touching you as if you were made of the finest silk, finally slipping between your legs and coming in contact with the little piece of underwear you wore. he began to slowly rub circles on you through the panties, making shivers run down your back.

"mmph, kaveh.." a groan left your lips as he slowly teased you, his clothed member still snuggly placed between your plushy tighs.

"what do you want, love?"

your cheeks heat up to what seems to compare to the fires of natlan, your words betraying you. you can't help but nuzzle your face in his chest as he continues to rub all the right places, teasing you softly.

"kaveh, baby, please"

you beg for the slow and torturious ritual to finally be over, but deep in your heart you know it won't be - not until you tell him what you desire.

"please what, love? you need to tell me what you'd like so i can give it to you"

no words leave your mouth, too flustered to even speak. his hot gaze and even hotter touches and archons, his pretty face - it was all too much for you. entirely and utterly too much.

"don't be embarassed, baby. i just want to hear you say what you need. i promise i won't tease you more, i just want you comfortable" he reassures oh so sweetly, pressing a slight kiss to your forehead.

"want you, kaveh.." you slowly and very hesitantly say, "want you inside"

it's like a switch has been flipped in him, immediately descarding you off your underwear and leaving your pretty folds bare. his underwear is next, and soon, his tip is pressing into your wanting opening.

you moan out from the pleasure as he slowly thrusts, making sure to keep his pace slow and warm at first.

"mh, faster, please.." you softly beg into his ear, afraid that you'll get far to embarassed if you say those words any louder. however, kaveh chooses not to torture you and obeys your wish with a moan of his own.

unlike you, he's very vocal in bed, a complete stranger to shame.

"ahh, shit, love! feels so good, feels heavenly! you are, you are heaven sent, you know that, love? mhh, baby, so good!" he whines almost as his pace quickens, bringing a hand down to your sweet bundle of nerves.

"tell me what you need, y/n.. fuck, baby, ask for what you need!" he almost begs you to say those words, his crimson eyes full of desperation.

"i.. i need to come-! please, kaveh!" the moan you give him is a bit louder, experimenting how the words feel on your tounge. strangely, it isn't so shameful to ask something of him any longer.

he gives you what you need, blabbing and ranting through his own mutters and moans about how much he loves you, how perfect you are, how good you feel around him. soon, he's reaching his own high, almost not being able to pull out in time as his head fills with pure euphoria.

as you two cuddle after, you nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck, and softly breathe: "kaveh?"

"yes, love?"

"could you next time.. do it in me?"

those words hit him like a pan across his head (and trust me, he knows what that feels like - he lives with al haitham, after all), as his dick almost instantly gets hard again. he pounces on top of you, a soft glimmer of lust in his eyes.

"your wish is my command"

[sunsents]

(I read the tono fic and im literally on my knees for this man rn he’s looks yummy☹️) we need a pt 2 on that beetie, but what if it was him being so rough and aggressive we dont get to see that, him manhandling and corrupting/degrading them whew Lord 🤭

I had the time of my life while writing this because I'm a slut and I want this man to do these exact things to me with no regards to my basic needs. <3 I couldn't really incorporate the corruption I think? I didn't really know how to build up to it 😟 so I'mma practice with my jakey poo, look out for an upcoming drabble

Tonowari - Punishment (M)

read part 1 here

➵ summary: Little plot and pure smut. After your escapade with Tonowari, his neglect tugs at your heartstring. Of course, the Olo'Eyktan is here to soothe your ache and remind you who you belong to.

➵ pairing: tonowari x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

➵ word count: 5.6k (I might have gotten a little carried away with this)

➵ warnings: severe degradation kink/probably age gap/rough ass sex/corruption/dirty talk/cursing/aggression/jealous tonowari/spanking/nudity/sexual intercourse/edging/descriptions of body parts /finger fucking/humping/kissing...and much more I can't remember atm. this work is purely nsfw and not suitable for minors, if you're under the age of 18, DNI

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

➵ vocabulary

syulang - flower

tiyawn - love

yomyo lerik - leaf plate

yawne - beloved

You spend the next few days in bed due to a sore back.

Most would think you pulled something while fishing in the early hours of the morning. Most are wrong, however, as they didn't know about your secret rendezvous with the Olo'eyktan. 

But you couldn't forget. 

How he fucked into your cunt with his thick cock, buried to the hilt and throbbing inside your sensitive walls. How he sat you down on his warm, plush thighs, coaxed your body to press against his chest with sweet whispers and completely engulfed you in his dizzying presence. He'd ask you to hold on tight as he stretched you open - because he knew you could take it. You would take anything he gave you with needy whines and a firm grip that would engrave his touch into your body. 

"You’ve never been touched, have you?" he had asked you, smoothing a hand down your hair, sweetly kissing your temple, slowly pulling you down into a pleasure-ridden world that consisted of nothing but sweaty bodies and heated pants.

As he kissed you tenderly, his hips humped into you like a nantang in heat. "Take it," he would tell you, muffling your mouth with his palm while letting out grunts of pleasure. 

And when he stretched you out specifically to his liking, specifically to be used only by his cock, he was barely satisfied.  "You fit me perfectly now, syulang." was his last whisper before you broke completely, babbling and drooling on his cock with your sopping heat. The rest is a blur, being fucked senseless while he bounced you on his thighs.

It's only when you hear a thump that you snap out of your gaze. "Oh!" you gasp, fishing around the water to find your blade. Your cheeks are flushed because you can feel them, and it's embarrassing enough for you to run a hand over them after dipping your fingers into cold water. You curse under your breath - of course, you can’t reach the blade, because, of course, Eywa is never on your side when it comes to your stubborn crush on Tonowari.

The fish you were cleaning is long forgotten, dropped in your wooden plate to be picked up after you get your bearings straight. The communal fire is bursting with warmth as children dance around and families group to share their food. Though, you’re still quite distant from the shared space. You had opted to get a piece of mind away from all the activity - surely not because you were avoiding the clan Olo’Eyktan. 

It's been exactly a week since you saw Tonowari, and the memories never cease to replay. You clear your throat even though nothing is lodged in it. Nonetheless, you smooth a hand down your hair just like he had done, quickly rinse your fingers in the water again, pull out an old yet sharp blade then continue your filet. 

You hadn’t seen the man all week, and all of a sudden he was commanding your attention by sending you fleeting looks, passing by your frame a little too closely, and gazing into your soul while you tried to enjoy your food in peace. The nerve.

Again, Eywa is barely on your side.

"Need some help?" 

The deep treble of his voice causes you to flinch. Tonowari stands tall in his gorgeous glory with his hands on his hips, adorning hunting garments and his hair tied back in a bun. You see the eclipse constellation on his skin, stretching beautifully over his lithe muscles. A band decorates his firm pecs and enhances his incredibly slim waist that you crave to run your fingers over. His legs stand strong, supporting his mouth-watering frame. You physically feel his authority, trickling down his body and slapping your face. 

You hold back a laugh at the thought - his presence was intense. The thought helps to put your mind at ease, but the quick thumping of your heart commands your attention.

"If it's no trouble," you croak, desperately trying to ignore the lump in your throat. You fail, however, as your voice comes out in a deep rasp. You clear your throat and pat the space next to you. "Please, sit Olo'eyktan."

Tonowari smiles at you warmly before sitting down. You hand him a fish, which he gracefully accepts, then starts the rhythmic movement of his blade. He’s extremely quick in his work - mesmerized, you gawk at his skilled fingers.

With each passing flick, you wait for the man to address the tension between you - because someone has to, and you decide it won’t be you. No, not after he didn’t talk to you for a week, then suddenly plagued your peaceful dinner with his sensual touch and sultry gaze. Taking a deep breath to calm your traitorous heart, you patiently wait for his inquiry. 

One, the scales fly into the water as larger fish nip at them; was he not going to mention that he fucked you raw last week? Two, Tonowari grunts, blade slightly slipping from his wet hands; Eywa, the tension is burning at your skin. Three, you were choking, you could feel it. Your heart was betraying you as it thumped for the Olo'Eyktan.

Four, "So, are we not going to talk about it?" you snap.

Tonowari stills then jerks his beautiful large head (which was fitting to his beautiful large body) to you. "What is there to address?" he mutters, hand resting on his thigh.

"W-well," you clear your throat, suddenly losing all conduct. You're quick to sharpen your tone, "Last week, at your kelku..."

"Oh?”

You hear him swallow before you nod, and his stare darkens with an indecipherable disposition. "And why shall we address it?" he asks, tone rough to match yours.

You have no choice but to abandon your blade and the fish - Eywa bless its poor heart with the way you were fileting it with lust, anger, shame, and excitement all at once. Your ears fold against your head instinctively before you have the chance to control them. It was embarrassing being so clear with your feelings when Tonowari kept a straight face.

"Because," you start, avoiding his gaze. "Right, because..." 

Was he expecting you to tell him, in front of everyone in the clan? Of course, your backs were facing the distant chatter of the people as you sat on a far edge. You were blocked out from their view by a giant tapestry that dated back to the first moons, still, if someone was to peek their head out, they'd see you sitting together.

You shift closer to him, ignoring the thrumming of your heart, then whisper. "Because we did that." 

Even though you didn't say the word, you can't help but flush. It was just so vulgar, and it was the first time you had ever experienced anything so intimate and erotic. You were naive but weirdly enough, knew better. Your act of intimacy with Tonowari was reserved for mates, and you were certain Tonowari never asked to mate with you. 

He chuckles at your humility and your stomach churns. He makes you feel so belittled with his reaction - had your time together been mere seconds in his lust-filled life? The thought brings a pout to your lips before you straighten and manage a neutral expression. Though, Tonowari notices, and he's quick to tease.

"Ah, I see." his coy smile is critical as he speaks in a low, baritone voice. "Did fucking not satisfy you, girl? Is that it?" 

He shuffles close until his plush thigh bumps into yours and the heat of him hugs around your entire being. He’s barely touching you and your body reacts on instinct, craving for him to take you as his munxta. His muscular  arms are not helping your desires whatsoever, looking obscenely huge in contrast to yours. 

"You want me to fuck you nice and slow again? Or do you want me to be rough with you? Can you handle that, syulang?" he leans in, hand inching closer to your thigh. You gasp, unable to control your twitch.

It's too much - his burly frame, his thighs, his sweet whispers. You dart up to your feet, leaving behind a satisfied Tonowari. He looks almost proud at making you feel this embarrassed. Again, the nerve. 

"Olo'eyktan Tonowari, you are needed."

A warrior and good friend of Tonowari's, Zeir, stands tall with a yomyo lerik in his hand. He's chewing on fish as he waits expectantly for his Olo'eyktan.

Your heart hammers loud in your chest. You almost got caught.

If your embarrassment hadn't gotten the better of you, you'd be spread out before Tonowari with his head between your legs, and you’d do nothing to stop your Olo’Eyktan when Zeir, inevitably, encounters the view due to your cravings. 

Humiliation is all you feel as heat spreads through your body. You're red, and Zeir throws you a pointed look. "How sweet," he grins.

Tonowari's head snaps so fast to his friend that you feel obligated to follow his line of sight. Zeir is smiling at you, drinking in your frame because you can feel his eyes on your skin, poking and prodding. 

His gaze isn't unwanted per se, just a surprising development seeing as he never gave you this attention before. You're not complaining, rather, keening at the overwhelming attention you’re getting. It seems after years of curiosity, Eywa was on your side. The noise of complaint Tonowari lets out, however, tells you that Eywa is not on his side. It was delightful to see the roles reversed.

"Zeir, brother, what is so important that you interrupt us," he warns. 

Zeir takes a moment to think about what you assume is a well-strung answer that won't anger the Olo'eyktan. "The people are asking for you, is all." 

Tonowari nods but lingers for a moment longer than necessary. His eyes survey you as he stands up, then strides across the bouncy weaving strung across the open sea. "You," he looks at you, "we are not finished. Stay there."

You gulp, then nod obediently. The sudden change in his demeanor scares you. You didn't know the man enough to comment on his personality, but it was common knowledge that he rarely got angry. He was usually calm and collected, and when something, or someone, was testing his patience, he was calculative in his approach. Many instances where he had taken hunting parties and returned with nothing but fish skin due to the idiocy and naïveté of the young warriors proved this to you. It was almost comical how he listened to Rakxe and Vetsu bicker about who the mightiest fisherman in the clan is while seemingly catching no fish; hands tight, lip a straight line, yet voice surprisingly soft, as if he was explaining the concept of fishing and hunger to a small child. 

Tonowari leaves you alone with Zeir, a fact he forgot to consider in his haste to please the clan. You give Zeir a pointed look that screams, what in Eywa's name are you doing?

"Oh, don't look at me like that." he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

Your lips twitch. "Like what?"

"Like I've done something bad." he tells you, "You and I know both that your little crush will be in vain if you don't do anything."

Your jaw drops at his straightforwardness. "Well," you start, frustrated. "I was in the middle of doing something!"

"Yeah?" he laughs though it's very obviously forced. "It seemed like he was in the middle of rejecting you, or was that just me?"

His words make a pang go through your chest. While his assumption is false (Tonowari was about ready to fuck you nice and deep), it holds some truth. He seeks you out to whisper filthy words and toss you aside when he's satiated, at least that's what you convince yourself. He had merely used your cunt and then disappeared for the entirety of the week. Was he avoiding you, or was he just busy? 

You didn't want that question answered. You were too far gone, and the answer would shatter your heart. 

In your silence, Zeir clears his throat. "Look, Tonowari is very open with his feelings - sometimes they just need a little push...which I'm generously granting you."

You look at him incredulously, "Oh? And how is angering the man helping me?”

Zeir looks at you like you know the answer. "Jealousy!" he snaps.

"No!" you're quick to yell. 

"Yes!" he whines. "I merely looked at you and he was seething like a  hungry palulukan!"

It would be a lie if you said his words didn't make you giddy. Tonowari? Jealous over you? It would only feed into your hope of claiming the strong warrior. You feel tremors rush through your spine at the thought. Now that his words settle in, you're seriously considering his offer. "Okay," you finally decide.

Zeir smirks, then slowly peeks his head through the flap. The bustle is rambunctious, noises filling the open space when the covering is pushed aside. "Uh oh," he quickly rushes to your side, way too close for your liking. "He's coming back. I'm going to put my hand on your waist, and you," he grabs your hands and presses them to your chest. "Act like I made a joke."

The laugh you let out falls on deaf ears as Tonowari returns. You see his face drop into a scowl, then into a look much more dangerous than what you had anticipated. You quickly break away from Zeir and dust yourself off. "You're back."

"What are you doing with her," he seethes through gritted teeth. 

Zeir crosses his arms, "Nothing, just showing her how a real man should be." 

At his comment, Tonowari's eyes turn. He lunges forward and grabs Zeir's neck - you've never seen him this angry before. It's exhilarating. 

"She's mine," he spits, eyes glazed over. His irises have dilated into something much more feral. You see a flash of panic sail through Zeir's eyes before he nods.

"Mine! Don't ever touch her again, I'm warning you brother," he speaks in a low rasp, tail trashing. It's uncontrollable and swats at your hip before thumping on the ground. "If I ever see you even breathe in her direction..."

"What are you going to do about it?" Zeir chuckles nervously. You do feel bad for him, even if it's only for a moment. He suggested this. He suggested that Tonowari harbors feelings toward you. He suggested that Tonowari would get jealous. 

And he was right. 

"Tonowari," you croak out. He dismisses you with a glance, "Don't hurt him."

This seems to set him off. He lets go of the man before rushing towards you. He yanks your hand, then starts pulling you towards his kelku with hurried steps. You look back at Zeir and he grins at you, mouthing told you so. Though before you can reply, The sullen Olo’Eyktan yanks your arm forward which causes you to crash against his warm back. "Stupid girl!" he growls.

Anger drips from his movements; his quick strides, his snapping tail, the way he opens the flap to his kelku and drags you inside with rough force. You're practically flung inside the marui like a doll. And as he paces back and forth, you're regretting your decisions. He was too angry, too uncharacteristic for his serene persona. His ragged breaths alert the flames inside you to burn, scorching your insides and causing you to crave his thick body, warm. He suddenly stops, then snaps his glaring eyes to your face. Thighs rubbing together, you try not to flinch away from his gaze. 

"On your knees." he all but demands. You tilt your head in confusion, was he actually going to punish you? "Are you deaf, girl? On your knees!"

You quickly lower yourself, quivering in excitement. He stops before you’re facing his swollen tewng. The carnal beast inside you rages with desire, screaming at you to grab his kuru and mate him. Mate him, mate him, mate him. 

You’re quick to dismiss her, it’s too soon. Will he even accept you as his? 

He grips your chin, too tight for your liking, and tells you all you need to know. His fingers squeeze your face before roughly tilting your head upwards. "You dirty cock-slut," he spits, and your eyes widen. "Are you going to let every man into your cunt?"

"W-what?" you croak, tears burning your eyes. 

He grips your hair roughly and then pulls. You yelp, having no choice but to hold onto his thigh to not topple back. Tears stream down your face at the humiliation. "You heard what I said. Don't make me repeat myself."

Eywa, what had you gotten yourself into? Your chest hurt from the mortification, but you couldn't deny the desire burning between your legs at his words. He looked at you with such intensity, eyes blown out. You merely croak out a, "No."

A feral growl leaves his lips before he pulls the string for his tewng. His cock springs out, and he looks at you expectantly. "Open,"

When you hesitate, he mushes your cheeks and forces your mouth to open. “Why?” you croak out, though it’s muffled and barely audible. “Tonowari, I’m scared. It feels hot, please…”

Teary-eyed, you don’t know what you’re begging for. It’s all the more thrilling. 

“Shhh, you have nothing to be afraid of,” he coos, suddenly gentle as he caresses your cheek. His undulant tones give you whiplash. “You’re going to suck on it, sweet girl. Make your Olo’Eyktan feel good,”

You nod, and with no warning, he plunges his cock into the confines of your mouth. 

Tonowari does not allow you to breathe, he doesn't even allow you to adjust to the feeling of your mouth stuffed full of his cock. It’s your first time, and in an array of emotions, you try your best to keep your jaw slack, and teeth at bay. It hurts to have his tip poke your throat, graze it so harshly with no regard for your respiration. A plethora of gargled noises come from your mouth - you’re trying to complain and failing miserably. It didn't matter, since Tonowari wasn't in his right mind. It was terrifying and thrilling all at the same time.

"Ohh, that's good," he grunts, shifting his hips slightly. You fight back more tears but fail, it's the pain that causes them now, instead of his belittling words. In comical timing, Tonowari grips your hair by the roots and pulls your head back, then slams his hips back in. You clutch his thighs, screaming around his cock. 

"Shut up," he grits. "Shut up and take it, filthy girl."

You nod, crying. Your eyelashes stick together as you look up at him, and Tonowari bares his teeth. "Mmph, fuck...Keep your eyes on me, you’re doing so good, syulang - so good,"

He slightly bends his head, then spits at the base of his cock where your mouth doesn't reach. Your eyes widen, just how wet did he need to be for this...activity. You wouldn't know, and Tonowari is aware of this. 

"Have you ever had a cock stuffed in your mouth, syulang?" he chuckles, yet his words contain zero humor - low and raspy as they burn his tongue. "Look at you, drooling on it like this. Ahh, fuck - open wider and do it properly before I stuff it down your throat," 

You nod again, but whatever you do or however you do it seems to fail at satiating his anger. He grunts, starting to snap his hips into your mouth and you can’t help but choke, gargle, and make obscene noises which fall fruitless. His head is thrown back in bliss.

Your jaw is slack, and your throat burns, - you cannot help but crave more. His thick cock slams into your mouth with crude noises and causes your spit to roll down your chin. Unable to wipe it, you grip onto his thick thighs that flex every other second - rhythmic to his snapping hips. Your nails dig into his skin but the man, pure muscle and sex, doesn't flinch. He doesn't even feel it, too busy fucking into your mouth with noises that border on animalistic. He moans though it's rough and coarse, a complete contrast to the whines he let out last week as he fucked you slow and good.

This was not slow and good. This was possessive, raw, and dominating. 

"This mouth is mine. Look at you, you're pathetic. You can barely fucking breathe, girl. What? You want to stop?"

You nod desperately, hoping for some sort of release. 

"Oh, Eywa...You're not allowed to stop…you're out here, whoring for every man in the clan - fuck," his hips jerk, ", and have the nerve to ask for release from me. This is your punishment girl, you better remember your place from now on."

You shake your head, your body trembling with desire. He suddenly stops his thrusts, heaving out a breath that rumbles deep from his chest. "I..." His cock twitches in his mouth, and you watch him grit his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut. He's edging himself, you realize. He's denying himself release because it would mean your ‘punishment’ is over. "It's time I claim this pussy of yours before those brainless bastards lay a hand on you, hm?"

You let out a shaky cough as he pulls his cock out. The way you heave is enough evidence that this is all new to you, and in his wicked mind, Tonowari is more than pleased as he watches you catch your breath. 

"Up, yawne," he demands. His endearment means nothing, not when he's so harsh with his tone. "Be a good girl and get up."

You try, you really do. But you can't. Your legs betray you as you try to stand and topple over. Tonowari is quick to catch you. "Pathetic little girl," he growls. His large hands wind around your thighs before he effortlessly lifts you. He doesn't even pull you to his chest, he just carries you like you're some sort of toy that he was going to bend into submission. He disregards you on his nest and your back hits the soft weaving with a yelp. Before you can move, his hands grip the back of your thighs, pushing them to your chest. Somehow, he rips your tewng with a grunt and sniffs the scent that circles the marui. "You got this wet from sucking my cock?" he snarls. Your folds, already puffy, must look so plush due to your current position. You can feel his breath on your entrance as he sniffs you like he's borderline manic. 

"N-no," you manage to utter. "That was hardly a punishment..."

"Do I have to stuff my cock in there again? Don't get mouthy with me, girl." he snaps, his anger visibly seething.

Now you've done it. You don't even know what kind of power made you answer back to him, but there was no going back now. He was only fueled more. "What? Want me to rip this pussy of yours so you have no choice but to take me? You know nothing, look at you."

Your chest tightens at his words.

"My dick was the first one stuffed in this cunt, and it will be the last." and with that, he plunges his cock in you. You scream his name in pain, and generously, he allows you to get used to the stretch for a few, short moments. "Ohhh fuck, yawne - so tight."

His generosity does not last long, however. Soon, he's drilling into your aching cunt with untetheredly rough thrusts. His grunts accompany the quick strokes he graces you with, and it's grounding. As his big hands stay firmly planted on the back of your thighs, he uses you as leverage to fuck into the tight hole he's fixated on - it's grounding. So much so that your arms desperately flail around to hold onto something to balance yourself and keep your consciousness intact, but to no avail. Tonowari's wet heat, his noises of pleasure, his abdomen that grind into the puffy pebble that pulses with the desire between your legs, they work together to drag you down into the depth of Pandora and trap you in a prison of pure pleasure. When he gives a particularly hard thrust, he heaves a rewarding whine of pleasure, and you can merely scream and take it. 

Your gummy walls are being pounded and any hope of movement is distant. Tonowari won't even let your hands grasp onto something. He lowers himself, trapping your body with his sweat-ridden chest, and reminds you, once again, that without his permission, his cock, and his sweet words, you’re anguished and empty. He manhandles you into submission and pulls the feral creature that burns in your chest, screaming at you to mate him. 

"Look at you, fuck...whimpering like a lost angstik pup." he coos, never once stopping his ruthless pace. "You see how I fuck into your sweet pussy, yawne?”

He brings your palm to rest on your belly, and urges you to press - you cry out in pleasure and pain all at once. You could feel the bulge of his cock protruding from your abdomen and causing dizzying bliss. "So sweet, my pretty little syulang," he grunts. "My filthy little cock-slut. Mine to use. All mine."

"T-Tonowari!" you whine at the disorienting senses. Lost in all the pleasure he's inflicting with thrusts. His drilling has stopped, opting to grind his pelvis into your aching cunt with the same pace. His pace, Eywa. It hasn't faltered once and with the delicious friction he's providing you, all the while ruthlessly stretching you out, the strings that keep you on reality are about to snap. Something is fast approaching, yet it feels nothing like the release he granted you last week. It’s more, slowly building up around your chest with tingles.  "I feel weird! It's-"

Tonowari pulls out of your shuddering cunt and the emptiness he causes  builds tears in your eyes. It's nothing but cruel - coaxing you to give in to pleasure completely, then taking it away all at once. "It hurts syulang, doesn't it? That's right...I'm the only one that could make it go away."

You whimper, babbling incoherently when he thumbs your pussy. "Shhh," he coos, wiping your tears sweetly. "It's okay yawne, don’t cry. I’ll take care of you," 

But it's not okay. You frantically shake your head, begging for more when he plunges two fingers into your pussy and curls the digits. Your head jerks back, and Tonowari plants a firm slap on the curve of your ass. The long, drawn-out moan that leaves you is lewd, and Tonowari is quick to bend down and drink it all up with a wet kiss. He pulls away entirely - fingers, hands, everything, then grasps your waist and turns you around. Since your escapade last week, you have had no control over your body. He left you a whiny, aching mess, and addicted you to all the pleasure he could give. Especially now, in your cock-drunk mindset, you merely whimper and whine as his hands knead at your skin. 

He pulls you by the waist, fingers digging into your pelvis and causing an embarrassing gush of your juices to flow down between your legs. You relish in his low chuckle with a shudder, until a wet heat graces your ass. When his teeth dig in, you can all but gasp at the delicious pain. “Oh!”

The bastard bit your ass. 

"There we go, yawne." he dares to tell you. 

You can feel his muscular arm gather your hands and lock them tightly in his grip. He pulls them back, causing your back to arch for his pleasure, then wedges his thick thigh between your legs to rub against your wet, aching, cunt - you're about to pass out from the need to have him inside you. You can only beg to be filled as he bends and handles you to his liking. He plants his thick cock between the expense of your ass, then humps into you once, twice, before plunging into your pussy once again.

It's all feeling at this point - you try to look back and see his face, but Tonowari doesn't allow you. He rocks into you while sitting back on his legs, and plants a firm hand on the back of your head to push you into the weaving. Your ears flicker at the sound of his thick thighs slapping against your ass, his deep moans and growls that fill the marui once again, overlapping with your screams for mercy. 

He grants you none. Pulling you back further, his hand let go of your head and slither down your chest to push you up to his chest. You don't understand where you're seated until Tonowari's thighs guide yours to open wide, pushing his cock deeper. You feel him everywhere, in your stomach, your ribs, and your throat as you cry out his name in pleasure. He grips your waist and humps into you like he would burn if he didn’t, grunting and cursing into your ear. One of his hands closes around your throat, and you can merely throw your head back against his pectoral and grant him further access. "You look beautiful, my syulang," he tells you. "So pathetic and needy like this, letting the Olo'Eyktan bounce you on his thighs like a little whore."

"Yes! T-Tonowari, there - ahh, right there!"

And when he hits the spongy spot that would be your rise and downfall all at once, it hits you. It hits you as he drills into your g-spot from below with rugged thrusts, hits you like a heart stuttering scare that's been creeping behind for weeks, only to catch you when you least expect it. "That's right. Only I can, fuck - make you cum like this. Ohh Eywa, yes! Just like that." he encourages, and you can only let out a plethora of yes yes yes’, shuddering and clamping down on his cock like a steel vice. Your walls spasm around his cock, and you feel him shoot hot ropes of cum into you with a loud groan. You pump him dry, orgasm lasting until your juices flow down his thick cock and the expense of your legs, coating you both in the fruits of his 'punishment'.

Limp in his arms, you can merely pant with glazed eyes. You can't think, Eywa, you're not able to. You feel numb, a buzzing feeling throughout your body. You pant in unison with the man behind you, whose cock twitches in your fucked out pussy. You stay like this for a while, tangled in his arms as he presses sweet kisses in the crook of your neck, whispering sweet nothings to soothe his previous harsh words. "You did so well, my tiyawn." he caresses your hair with his gentle touch.

"Tonowari..." you call out to him. After the post-orgasmic bliss dies down, a rush of emotions envelops your chest and tightens your heart - they encourage you to finally set this relationship between the two of you. As much as you like this... arrangement, Tonowari was your first, and you hope he will be your last.

Traditionally, while Na'vi can court a variety of prospects, that's all they would be, prospects. Sooner or later, you’re required to find a mate and carry out the mating ritual that you've done not once, but twice with Tonowari. It was forbidden, and inevitably exciting, but you desire something more. You won’t allow him to use your body as he pleases, then toss you aside. 

Tonowari hums into your hair, taking a deep breath. "We are to be mated, right?" you hesitantly ask. 

Tonowari wavers for a second, and you feel your heart drop. As the seconds stretch, you feel it getting pulled down lower, and lower, and lower, until...

"Of course, yawne?" he asks, confusion evident in his voice. "I have fucked you twice, came in you thrice. I thought I was obvious with my intentions."

"Oh..."

It would be an understatement to say your heart soars. No matter if you had absolutely no idea he was courting you, or that he gave no indication of being interested in you in the past. As you fall deep in thought, you realize you've never really paid attention to anyone - anyone except Tonowari that is. Even then, you were far too embarrassed to approach the Olo'Eyktan of the clan, let alone look at him. He was mighty, strong, and sought after by many. 

"That's right, oh." he chuckles, bringing you back down to reality again. It's almost comical how he was making you lose all your sensibility just moments ago with his skilled hips, and now grounding you with his tender tone. "As much as I love being inside you like this, we should clean up."

Slowly but surely, he grips your waist and lifts you from his cock. You watch as the delicious mixture of your releases drips down from your entrance, then whine at the emptiness. "I know," he coos, turning you to face him, then placing you on his lap again. With a sweet kiss on your lips, his strong frame envelops you once again. 

You're inches away from giving in when it hits you - he was the one who ignored you this past week. "Wait," you plant your palm on his chest and push. He frowns, lips chasing yours with a whine. "You ignored me all week."

He pauses, and you can faintly hear him suck in a breath. "I didn't ignore you, I was on a hunting party."

"How?" you ask. "Hunting parties never last a week."

"Well syulang, when Zeir loses the map to the village, it does."

"Oh..."

You start laughing at all the unnecessary insecurities that plagued your mind for seven whole days, and your mate lets out an awkward chuckle.

[catrasredemption]

Sometimes I feel like people just... fundamentally misunderstand who Catra is? Or they don't know how to interpret tones? I saw a post railing on Catra about calling Adora an idiot and how cruel it is, and I'm like... there's a difference between idiot (insult) and idiot (affectionate) and the fact that people don't get that is bizarre to me? And I'm not just making excuses - I know so many people who are like this. I have a friend who will routinely tell people to get out when they do something exasperating, or ask "what the fuck is wrong with you" and no one ever takes it seriously because she's not serious. It's honestly a very common love language.

"Oh but Save the Cat-"

Listen Catra had every right to call her an idiot after finding out that not only did Adora not listen to her about not going to Prime's ship, but realizing that she never really gave up on Catra even when Catra gave up on herself. And Adora's response is to laugh, because she knows what Catra is really saying - I can't believe you came back for me, I can't believe you didn't listen to me. And Adora's response is basically Yeah it's crazy isn't it?

"In Taking Control Adora calls herself an idiot, she's internalized it from Catra."

Listen. Listen. Adora grew up in the Horde. She internalized a lot of shit. As far as thinking she's an idiot goes, though - I don't think that's from Catra. She's exasperated at herself and mad at Catra and she uses vocabulary she's familiar with. Have you ever noticed how much Adora and Catra repeat the things Shadow Weaver said to them?

(also, yes, Adora is in fact being kind of an idiot in that scene because both of them are emotionally stunted at whatever level they reached before Adora found the sword. They default back to their normal behavior because it's familiar and wholly unhealthy and they can't move on until they both learn that.)

I'd have to go back and watch the entire series again, but afaik there's no instance of Catra using the word idiot to actively insult someone (mayyyyybe Hordak?). She throws around useless and pathetic a lot because she learned from the best (Shadow Weaver), but not usually idiot.

"You just don't like criticism against your favorite character."

Partially true. I don't like criticism that's based on a completely inaccurate interpretation of what was happening on the screen. Give me something besides "omg Catra is the worst" and we'll talk.

[blossom-works]

Opposites Attract

A/N: I have no knowledge about technology & engineering so don’t come at me internet...😐

Who would have thought that Ego Jinpachi’s cousin is the secret lover of the world’s best striker, Noel Noa? Certainly not Chris Prince. Or anyone in the Blue Lock as a matter of fact. And the cherry on top is that you, Noel’s fiancé and Ego’s cousin, are responsible for building this state-of-the-art facility. You are a tech geek and was able to geek out at the request of your cousin. Since Blue Lock began, you have been behind the scenes to make sure everything is running smoothly. No one but your cousin, Anri, and the money grubbing fucks of the JFU knew about you. Now, a large group of footballers know about you since someone decided to mess with your technology. 

“Honestly! How did you manage to pull out multiple fuses! And how did you get into the control center?!”

Chris Prince scratches the back of his head in semi-shame. “I got curious and wanted to know what does what.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here!”

In frustration, you try to reconnect the different fuses to the appropriate ports, but it seems that when Chris pulled them out, he damaged the chords attached to them. How that is possible, you do not know. Your phone starts buzzing from the back pocket of your pants. Answering, you hear your cousin, Ego, on the other side. Demanding to know what you did wrong. 

“I didn’t do anything, dipshit! - One of your genius masters decided it would be a good idea to pull out multiple fuses. - Chris Prince. - I don’t know how he managed to do that! - Well he isn’t that smart if he pulled them out because he was just curious. - The fuses he pulled out powered Blue Lock Man and other training material. - Yes, that means advanced training will be out of the question. - Maybe two days? Three max. - That’s your job to figure out! - Oh shut up and stop complaining, dumbass.” You hang up the call with a huff and gather the broken fuses to properly dispose of them. When you turn around, you are surprised and annoyed that the Englishman is still standing there. 

“What are you still doing here?”

“Uhh...are you single?”

His question catches you off guard which makes you drop one of your poor babies. Dumbfounded, you ask the striker to clarify. 

“Are you taken?”

Now, you are a bit more ticked off than you already were. You put the fuses to the side, and place your fists on your hips. “Let me get this straight, you come into my command center and play with creations because self-control is obviously nowhere in your vocabulary. All of which forces me to rearrange my already busy schedule, and you have the audacity to hit on me? Did I miss anything number two?”

Chris looks at you for a few seconds before he proudly responds “Nope!” with a flashy smile.

Exasperated, you point to the automatic door (which you will have to rethink). “I’m already engaged. Now get out.” 

Instead of obeying like a good boy, Chris tries to use his charms on you. 

“C’mon, I bet your fiancé isn’t that great. Compared to me at least.” He winks. 

“I would have to say otherwise. Compared to you, he is great.” And before Prince can say anything else, you push him out the door and lock it before anyone else can bother you. Once in peace, you make a couple of calls to order more fuses and to hire a team to help you further develop Blue Lock’s technology. Engrossed in your work, you do not hear someone knocking on your door. It takes one loud knock to bring you back to reality. Jumping out of your chair you unlock the metal door. 

“Ego m'a dit que l'entraînement ne serait pas possible dans les prochains jours.“ Noel asks. He has on his usual tracksuit and has a cup of freshly made coffee in his hand. Ego told me that training would not be possible in the next few days.

Since basically everyone got a translating earpiece, you chose to answer him in your native tongue. When the Neo-Egoist Phase began, you partnered with the Mikage Corporation to advance their earpiece. While the device cannot translate all languages, it can translate a good handful when preprogrammed. Though, you are not sold on the idea of talking to intergalactic beings.  

“Basically. The world’s second best striker and the world’s first dumbass messed with my technology. All of which powered the Blue Lock Man and amongst other things. You guys can still train the o’fashion way and the kids can still workout, but advanced training is off the table.”

“I see. How long until the system is up and running?”

“Three days max.”

Noel nods and hands you the cup of hot caffeine. You take the Blue Lock mug and silently thank him. You take one sip and plant the mug on a surface away from the monitors. Like he expected it, Noel catches you when you quickly jump on top of him and nuzzle your nose against his cheek. 

“But I missed you! I haven’t seen you since you first got to Blue Lock!” You complain like a child. 

“You saw me this morning, and the mornings before.”

“So! We haven’t spent any time together though.” You move your face slightly away from Noel’s so he can see your puppy dog eyes and pout. The Frenchman sighs like he is tired of your antics, but you know better. If he was truly tired of your childishness, he would have put you down but Noel has yet to do that. Instead, Noel keeps his hands under your thighs to hold you up. A small sign of his that lets you know he misses you too. Childish antics and all. 

“You can’t just leave your fiancé hanging around like this! Having me wait around to get some well-deserved attention is just cruel!”

Noel says nothing as you hop off him and drag him to sit in your chair so you can sit on his lap. Sticking to your silly behavior, you pepper Noel’s face with kisses like the lovesick woman you are. You take his face in your hands and plant a big kiss on his sightly chapped lips. Immediately the Frenchman reciprocates the kiss. Another way he silently admits that he misses you too. Happy that you are getting the attention you have been craving, you pull back a bit to see the thin strand of saliva break. Letting out happy squeals, you nuzzle your face against Noel’s while wiggling your body like an excited puppy. The striker lets you have your fill of him (not like that you rotten minds) before he goes back to the Germany part of the building. 

Of course, he does not leave the control center without paying a kiss(es) fee. Noel leaves planning a new training schedule and you stay in your little nook happy as a schoolgirl who got the number of her longtime crush. Honestly, it never ceases to amaze you how a cyborg like Noel Noa lets you get away with acting like a child. Looks like being his significant other has its perks. 

Three Days Later:

Clapping yours hands, you quadruple check your handy-work. (No) Thanks to Chris Prince, you had to install the fuses inside their own boxes so no one can take them out again. You also installed a lock to the control center. People can only enter when they have the passcode. Updates have also been installed into Blue Lock tech so the club masters can get more creative with training. Now all you have to do is make sure that each club is running smoothly with the new installments. One by one go through each building for thorough check-ups, and secretly cheering on the Blue Lockers. Since you saved the best for last, you skidded on your way to Germany’s Bastard Munchens. 

But, all good things must come to an end. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Ms. Tech.”

“Dear god, what do you want Prince?”

“I want to know who your loser of a fiancé is.”

Feeling a little smug, you decide it is best to give the Englishman what he wants. 

“If it’ll get you to leave me alone, then so be it. I’m on my way to meet him anyway.”

For some reason, pride makes Chris puff out his chest like Superman as he follows behind you. He is even walking like he is some sort of a hero. How amusing. With the tablet in your hands, you go through the new data it has been collecting. Since Ego is the man in charge here, you need to compile a report of the new tech you installed, and the cost. If it was still the first phase of Blue Lock, the amount of money used to create the program would be equivalent to how much debt the United States is (that is a bit exaggerated but you get the picture). Now that you guys have sponsors and BL TV, money is streaming in like cryptocurrency. 

“Hey, isn’t this the way to-”

“Noel!”

Said man turns around only to be tackled by a woman half his size. Thank goodness for his physicality or else you both would have fallen onto the ground. Like you always do, you nuzzle the side of his face with your nose. 

“What are you doing here? We’re in the middle of practice.”

“Oh, I came to check on how the new update is fairing. Just following routine to make sure things are going smoothly.” You say as you get off the man. The commotion gets the players’ attention. Too busy showing Noel what is on the tablet, you do not realize that Noel give his players a glare. Telling them to get back to training like their lives depend on it. 

“Prince? What are you doing here?”

“So, I’m finally acknowledged by the great Noel Noa.” Chris sarcastically says. “If you must know, this little lady is taking me to meet her third-grade fiancé. But I guess she’s going to finish her work beforehand. Now hurry up so she can see how much better I am than whoever she’s engaged to.”

The albino raises a brow before uncharacteristically scoffing and goes back to ignoring the world’s second best striker. 

“What? You know, you think you’re all high and mighty but you’re not.” The petty Prince states. He only aggravates himself further as he starts a one sided argument with Noel. Meanwhile, you busy yourself with examining how the players are using the new and updated tech. 

“Excuse me, but who are you?”

“Ah, Yoichi Isagi. I’m just here to make sure that everything is running smoothly so I can give a report to Ego. Don’t worry, I won’t get in your team’s way.” Before you can explain more, you notice a small tweak in the Blue Lock Man which prompts you to halt practice. You got a few hisses and groans but ignored them all. Out of thin air, you take out a couple of screws, a small hard drive, and a screwdriver. 

Taking a panel off the wall, you plug in the hard drive and start typing away on your tablet. One of the players tries to ask you what you are doing and how long you plan on being here, to which you just hold up a finger, telling the player to wait. A couple more clicks and you are happy with your work. Pulling the hard drive out and putting the panel back on the wall, you tell Bastard Munchen “Alrighty! There shouldn’t be anymore issues for you guys.”

“But...there wasn’t any problem to begin with...”

“Ah ah.” You wave your finger in a “no-no” motion. “It was only for a split second but the Blue Lock Man you were using had a glitch to it. It wasn’t noticeable to the untrained eyes, but since my more than qualified eyes caught it, I had to fix it right away. If I left the Blue Lock Man as he was, then future problems with it would arise. Prohibiting further training.”

Most of the team looks at you in awe at your explanation (mainly the Blue Lockers). 

“Woah! Are you some tech guru?”

“Have you been working here this entire time?”

“How old are you?”

More and more questions are being bombarded towards you. Smiling at their curiosity, you answer some of their questions. You bow to them in a formal greeting. 

“I’m an employee here at Blue Lock. I’ve been working here since the very beginning. In fact, I’m the person who created and designed this entire facility. From the infrastructure to the technology, that was all me.”

Like Gru’s minion, they all let out a “Woah”. You should have known that your introduction would only lead to more questions. Thankfully, Kaiser comes to your rescue. Albeit, rudely. 

“Hurry up and get into formation. There’s no need for a maintenance worker to overstay their welcome. Now leave. You’re becoming a pest.”

A little ticked by the boy’s attitude, you put on a polite smile. “I thinks that’s best too. Afterall, the main actor needs to keep practicing or else he’ll always have to rely on his co-stars to make up for his shortcomings.” Your patronizing tone and pleasant smile pisses Kaiser off and before he can say anything more, you walk away, bumping the teen with your shoulder on “accident”. You spot your fiancé antagonizing the Frenchman with his dry humor. 

“I’m done with my inspection!” You cry out as you jump on Noel’s back to perform your ritual of nuzzling. “I wish I could stay longer but Ego would have my head if I’m late with my report.”

“I thought you were on your way to see your fiancé. Wait a minute, did you just make up a lie cause you’re too shy to go on a date with me?” Chris asks while raising both his blonde brows. 

Still on Noel, you blink confused for a quick second. “Oh, I wasn’t lying. If I’m being 100 percent honest, you’ve already met my fiancé but didn’t know it’s him.  You still haven’t found out who he is even though I’ve made it clear about three times now. And this ring doesn’t lie.”

Three.

Two. 

One.

Now that Prince has caught on to your behavior he blurts out incoherent sentences, pointing at you and Noel. Happy with how things are turning out, you get off Noel’s back and pull him down so you can kiss his cheek. 

“I’ll see ya, cher!” and you are off to Ego’s cave of egoism. All the while leaving behind a stuttering Chris Prince, a shocked Bastard Munchen (who have been watching the whole thing play out), and an unbothered Noel Noa. Dear.

When you pop into Ego’s cave, you give him all of the data you have collected and what he and the masters should be looking out for. 

“Alright. You can leave now.”

“Awe! Don’t be like that cuz! I did all this work and rearranged my schedule for the next two weeks. You should at least thank me.” You pout. 

“You’re getting paid are you not?”

“But that’s not the same ~ C’mon! Give your little cousin a hug! You haven’t even congratulated me on my engagement to Noel!” You open your arms out and slowly get closer to Ego. You are determined to get your hug from him whether he likes it or not.

“Another step and I’ll fire you.” Ego warns. Seriously, how the fuck are you two related. He swears that you are adopted cause there is no way in hell. 

“Oh, shut up and hug me you bastard!” And that is how you and Ego end up running around in the room like small children. An older brother who is trying to get away from his annoying and unwanted younger sister. A younger sister purposefully annoying her straightedged, older brother. A perfect duo if you say so. In the midst of your chase, one of you accidentally presses the button for the intercom that connects to the entire building, prompting everyone in it to listen to your pleas and Ego’s cursing. 

“What the hell is going on here?”

“Ego and that chick are related!”

“Are they okay?”

Are some of the few questions the players have until they hear, “Aren’t you excited to have Noel as an in-law?”

Noel swears on his entire career that the whole building shakes when everyone yells, “What?!”

A/N: How’d ya like my Noel Noa story? I wrote for him cause there’s not a lot fanfiction of him. For my readers who have been patiently waiting for another Kylian Mbappe story, I haven’t forgotten about you! I can’t say when the update will be, but I hope it’ll be before September ends. I know it is a long wait but the story I’m working on is longer than I anticipated. 

[feedthefandomfest]

I have a question because I want to comment but I feel nervous. It is very foolish but it is seriously something that prevents me from commenting-

So English is not my first language and I suffer from a disease known as 'fuck you all English leaves your brain when you tap on the comment box'. Like I'm fluent enough to write a fic but the comments break me and I can only do basic 'subject verb complement' and forget half my vocabulary because I'm so nervous, so it often ends up being broken English.

I back out of posting comments except 'i love this this is amazing thank you for writing I love it' because I'm too scared the author will take it badly ? Like, what if they find it annoying ? What if they believe I think they write bad English and I'm mocking them and they don't want me to ever read their works ever again ?

Anyways, my question is : Does it actually bother anyone to receive broken English comments? Do people find it annoying ?

I would never be annoyed by such a thing and I'm positive that's true of others as well. On the contrary, it kinda blows my mind whenever I stop to think about how members of fandom for whom English is not their first language are so often working in translation. Like the trickiest barrier I have to contend with when writing anything is sleep deprivation and your average writer's block 😅 so to imagine also rendering those words in a different language?? 🫠

To varying degrees, the tragic disease of "empty comment box = empty brain" can strike anyone, regardless of language. On the plus side, some of the tricks to break through the blankness are also broadly applicable, such as

drawing from a list of sentence starters like the ones offered here or here (the beginner bingo card also has similar tasks!!)

installing this handy script that generates a positive comment on demand, which you can modify or expand on as needed

using the floating comment box to track moments or quotes you want to compliment specifically, even with just a string of emojis 💕💕💕

I can recall a couple comments I've gotten where the person apologized or gave a sort of disclaimer that English wasn't their first language, and honestly it just made me even more appreciative of the comment? Because there are so many reasons that a reader doesn't comment, and a language barrier is the most understandable!! And yet here they are, making me smile with their words. I always want to reassure them in my reply that an apology/disclaimer isn't necessary, but I don't always know how. (And there's nothing wrong with acknowledging something you're self-conscious about, after all.)

The concept of "broken English" has also got me thinking, though... And since it turned into a bit of an essay I'll leave it under the cut. 💛

Because the term "broken English" has a lot to unpack, seeing as it's always unfairly positioned those who speak English as a second language imperfectly as lesser (broken = defective). And that strikes me as a bit ironic, considering the degree to which English is a Frankenstein's monster of a language—this conglomeration of every language it encounters and subsumes. In that sense, English itself is a broken language? Or rather the shards of numerous languages held together with duct tape and gum and a whiff of imperialism. Its usage is always in flux, always evolving as speakers adapt it to new circumstances, and those adaptations become dialects in and of themselves. There is no one English language.

I teach high schoolers, and I'm consistently struck by the growing chasm between the kinds of English I can speak and the kinds of English they can speak. And technically my job is to train them in how to use American Standard English and read literature written in American Standard English, but really I find that pretty limiting.

Take the tone of this response, for instance! The more I've leaned toward trying to articulate these complicated issues of language, the more formal my speech has become. Contrast that with the first paragraph, where I'm trying to get across this awkward earnest admiration for the extra effort required of some fans just to engage in fandom, and so I ended up using more casual phrasing and emojis in a way that (hopefully) conveys a certain warmth and self-deprecating humor and whatnot.

If I were to leave a comment on a fic that blew me away, left me in a state of awe or delight or anguish—just a puddle on the floor—I'd find American Standard English quite lacking. Downright restrictive. The unique jumbled babble of fandom-speak functions on breaking the standard rules in order to evoke an intensity of emotion that meets the demands of the moment.

Another thing about commenters who really commit to throwing the rules out the window in favor of vibes is that I get such a strong sense of personality beaming through. A distinct voice that's generated, an intense impression of there being an individual on the other side with a particular shape. And there's something delightful about that.

...I suppose this is all a very roundabout way of saying that if there's anywhere to just unleash, vocab and mechanics be damned, where it's more than okay to string together whatever words you can in service of how you're feeling, it's the AO3 comment box. 💛

[shouldiusemyname]

Only Friends - The Voice of the 80's Babies

Long post

Inspired by this post by @chicademartinica and bestie @thegalwhorants's comment about the wardrobe. Also this post from @blmpff which really made me think I'm in the right direction...

Before I get into this I just wanna say that I'm posting this very hesitantly as it's a very personal view of this show (possibly within the Jojo-verse). I might be reading too much into this and projecting my own experience and the fact that Jojo is about my age, but OF feels very much a reaction of my generation. I realize that most of what I'm going to say will sound familiar and relevant to everyone (not just 80's babies) but I'll try to explain the difference between what I read as a general generational experience and a universal experience.

I said it before and after watching the first ep it has never been clearer that Only Friends is what happens when 80's babies are given a chance to settle scores.

Everything about this show screams I WAS A TEENAGER IN THE 90'S!

First of all - the clothes! EVERYTHING they're wearing is like it's taken from my high school photos 😅 I know fashion is fluid and trends will make a comeback periodically, but given what I feel they're trying to say, I believe it's intentional.

The Sex of it All

It's like a direct reaction to the way we were raised and the relationship my generation has with sex. This is very regional and cultural, but generally speaking sex was not discussed as a natural aspect of life and relationships. Sex was either shameful, dirty, reproductive, or (the worst option) over discussed without healthy boundaries. My parents' generation didn't have the tools to discuss sex with their children in a healthy way because they were also denied this conversation by their parents. So, they either hid it or overshared.

So, my generation was raised (by western media basically) believing that everyone must have sex and our social standing is directly linked to whether or not we were having sex (who said American Pie?). We weren't given the option to have different views. We were trapped by this extremely deformed view of sex and relationships.

Watching this show and the discussion around it feels like creators are calling bullshit on everything we were told about sex.

Stuck in the Middle

I'm going to generalise here, but basically people who are just slightly older than us (meaning my generation) have this very black and white attitude towards sex - there's the right time to start having sex, your partner matters (in the way that you should be in love or in a relationship), relationships are monogamous, and kink is a deviation (don't even get me started on queerness - you were either gay, straight, or a crossdresser).

On the other hand, 90's babies were born into a much wider and open world that gave them the opportunity to get a much broader picture and view about relationships and how sex plays into them. This is even as basic as just having a wider vocabulary to talk about it.

My generation was, however, stuck in the middle, left to really hindsight our way through our perception of sex and its place in relationships.

In my 20's I've witnessed so many conversations where people were analyzed over the fact that they choose not to have sex like there's something wrong with them. Why are you not having sex? What's wrong with you? You're waiting for love? - don't waste your time. You're just going to fuck whoever? - that's just wrong. There's no winning.

Furthermore, when considering what Jojo said about the discussion around queer sex in queer shows and bl - my generation was raised with the idea that being queer (which was then just being gay) was all about who you have sex with. No one ever said anything about love or gender. When I was figuring out my own sexuality, being queer was about who you wanted to sleep with, not who you loved. We still see this today when people believe that our queerness is defined by whether or not we are having queer sex, and I believe this is at least part of what @bengiyo is talking about when he talks about the internalised homophobia. This is so much of my generation carrying and passing it on because we were denied these conversations.

So Now What?

Now, creating a show that is about sex, queer sex, and how it plays into queer relationships is reclaiming the conversation about queerness as an expression of love as well as sexuality. We deserve to discuss these issues as a generation that was denied these conversations whether queer or not. And somehow, these issues are discussed more freely and openly within queerness as it has the advantage of being free of heteronormative notions.

Another reason I believe this is generational is the fact that Jojo is consistently having this discussion within his shows. I don't know how to explain it, but his shows feel like screaming liberation, like he's walking around with a baseball bat (preferably Only Friends branded) and smashing these false ideas one by one. Which is why I believe we need to look at this show as part of the Jojo-verse shows along with The Warp Effect, 3 will be free and Gay OK Bangkok. Jojo is on a mission.

Expression Within The Show

Ok, so what am I getting at after I had you read my trip to the shrink?

I believe that ALL OF THIS is expressed in the show through the group dynamics we see in our friend group. They all represent different notions and they will fight over dominance. This is the power struggle that my generation is trapped in. We need and deserve to say our peace.

This is what I meant when I said that OFTS is what happens when you're an 80's baby with shit to say.

As usual thank you for reading my ramblings. I hope you get what I'm trying to say, and clearly have issues 😅 so feel free to comment and give perspective...

[jeannineee]

hi! can i please have a mor nsfw alphabet?

NSFW Alphabet: Morrigan (A Court of Thorns and Roses)

nsfw under the cut (18+ please)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Very very sweet. Peppers your skin with kisses, murmuring words of praise and affection as she goes. Loves taking a bath with you afterwards.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

She likes her legs. They’re toned, and she loves showing them off through the slits in her dresses. She especially loves them when you ride her thigh.

For you, she loves your hips. They’re perfect to her. There’s nothing quite like the feeling she gets when she holds your hips into place as she fucks you with her tongue.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

She swears she gets drunk off of the taste of your come. By the time she’s done with you, the scent of your slick is all over her.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Hmm…she’s a bit more of a switch than she lets on. As much as Mor might be sunshine-y and optimistic, she still finds it hard to be completely vulnerable. It would take time before she’d be willing to give you that control.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

She’s had a few lovers. She knows what she’s doing.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Loves when you ride her thigh!! The noises you make as you desperately grind against her? Gods. She swears could come from that alone. She loves to hold your hips and control your pace as you do it.

Mor also loves sitting on your face, her hands tangling in your soft hair as she rides your tongue. She praises the fuck out of you as she comes.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

She’s definitely more serious. Sex is very intimate for her—it’s not a time to crack jokes.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

She keeps it very well groomed, it’s just her preference. For you, she doesn’t care, as long as you’re comfortable.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sooo intimate. Sex with you is sacred for her, almost. She loves the romance. Candles, rose petals, all of the cheesiness. She loves you so much, and makes the entire experience romantic every time.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

She occasionally did before she met you, only when the need arose. But now that she’s with you, she never really needs to.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Maybe I’m wrong, but she might have a slight mommy kink. Maybe.

Hair pulling. Not to the point of pain, but if you gently tug at her golden locks when her head is between your legs? She lives for that. It also lets her know you’re feeling good.

DIRTY TALK AND PRAISE!! Both ways!! Loves to hear how good she’s making you feel, and she’ll do the same for you.

“So wet for me, sweet girl. Did I do this to you?”

“Gonna make a mess on my fingers, aren’t you, lovely?”

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Prefers your bedroom. Not huge on doing it anywhere else, unless you’re both super needy.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you tease her. Run your fingers under her dress at the dinner table, just barely grazing her clit through her underwear. She’ll make up some half-baked excuse before dragging you to bed, fucking you until her name is the only word in your vocabulary.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Not into degrading you, and nothing that would hurt you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

50/50 here. Her favorite place is between your soft thighs, lapping and sucking your pretty cunt like she’s a woman starved.

BUT she loves the feeling of your lips wrapped around her clit just as much.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Veryyy sensual. Takes her time with you. Sex is a marathon for her, not a sprint.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Very rarely. Only if the two of you are busy and have little time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

MIGHT be down for semi-public sex, as long as there is a locked door in between the two of you and whoever might catch you. She’d bend you over the counter or desk as her slender fingers slowly thrust into you, using her free hand to cover your mouth.

“Gotta keep quiet, sweet girl. Wouldn’t want anyone to hear those pretty noises you make for me.”

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

She’s got stamina through the roof. She can last for hours, easily.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Vibrators, suction toys. Will buy anything you want, though.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

She doesn’t like denying you. She might tease you periodically throughout the day, but if you get too needy, she’ll give you what you want. Especially if you ask her nicely.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not super loud, until she gets close. Lots of whimpering, and soft moans. Will praise you a lot throughout, as well.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Wants to get into BDSM. She wants to start light, but bondage and dom/sub dynamics really pique her interest.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

She’s a goddess, basically. Her body is perfectly toned, with curves in all the right places.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Moderate. She’ll definitely let you know when she wants you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

She usually falls asleep first. You don’t mind though. Her face is so peaceful, and her soft breathing lulls you to sleep soon after.

[widevibratobitch]

Ok. Any "Terror" fic recommendations?

good lord YES countless really. idk what you're looking for specifically though.

i myself am a fitzier girlie first and foremost with some occasional fitzconte thrown in. i'll best direct you to my ao3 bookmarks, specifically to the tag i keep for my personal favourites, the crème de la crème of fics I've read and liked.

some examples under the cut.

i am a connoisseur of ✨fitzier hatesex✨ and there's surprisingly not that many of those compared to fics where they're all lovey-dovey with each other (which. dont get me wrong. i also enjoy from time to time). so i'll give you some that have truly stuck with me. it's mostly pwp sorry not sorry.

Some lovely perilous thing by cosmogram

“Oh,” James gasps, and really, it’s almost too easy. James ought to have some modicum of shame, ought to be able to master himself better than this—better than turning to a doe-eyed dissolute the second a man so much as breathes near his eager young cock. “Not here, Francis,” James pants out, voice already hitching high. “The great cabin, at the very least.”

“Here, I think,” Francis returns crisply. “On your knees.”

it's just so fucking good. very hot. i honestly don't know what else i could say about this, it's one of my personal favourites amongst personal favourites (along with the one i link next, from the same author).

Devotion by cosmogram

Francis does not seek him anymore, but neither—still worse—does Francis bother to dismiss him when James arrives of his own volition, each time with all the hope of the most wretched fool. “Oh, get to it, then,” Francis muttered with sublime disinterest that very day when James appeared in his cabin’s doorway. James had, in fact, come to talk—but he had not hesitated when Francis gestured dispassionately to the front of his trousers. He had dropped, wordlessly, to his knees to obey.

everyone give it up for erectile dysfunction! hip-hip hurray! the author sums it up well with the James Fitzjames’s Tragically Unmet Praise Kink tag. this one is a little more on the sad side, Francis is being a goddamn gremlin and James is at his most needy and pathetic. nothing hotter to me personally than sucking someone's limp dick and crying about it. i find myself thinking about this fic an ungodly amount. i love it so much. again, best of the best of the best.

nice dream by icicaille

Francis swirled the last dregs in his glass and peered into its depths. Some kind of grim satisfaction had come over him. “I’ll tell you what you want to hear,” he said. “For a certain price.” It was foolhardy beyond measure. Damning, even.

basically, Fitzjames gives Crozier a blowjob in exchange for Francis telling him some nice reassuring things he needs to hear so badly it makes him look stupid - malicious compliance from Francis of course with some nice internalised homophobia. James is, again, pathetic as all shit with a little twist at the end. no one is having a good time except for me of course.

hunger's vocabulary by icicaille

“Ah, Sir John.” Francis cleared his throat once the wardroom was near to empty. “May I borrow James? Regarding the Lloyd’s balance. We took readings that require further inspection. I’ll send him back in a gig—tonight if the weather holds, in the morning otherwise.”

chef's kiss. just two cunty cunts going at it (the dialogues are so good...) with a sprimkle of some angsty self-loathing Francis. what more could you ask for.

you are coming down with me by dazydaisy

Chapter one: “If I loved you I could perhaps fuck you as if I hated you, in order to please you, but, as you are surely aware by now Fitzjames, you and love are oil and water to me.”

Chapter two: ‘Maybe,’ James had begun to unlace the front of his trousers with a carelessness he had (shamefully) practiced, ‘if you loved yourself even a little you would be able to stop yourself from doing as I command. But, as I’m sure you know by now Francis, you and love are like oil and water. The two simply do not meet.’

*

Mum and dad are fighting again

pretty much what it says on the tin. just two heartbroken bitches fucking and being cruel to each other and im eating that shit up thanks

A Willing Foe and Sea-Room by ClutchHedonist

“Nnh.” Fitzjames whines around his thumb.

“None of that. Clearly, you can’t shut your own bloody mouth to save your life.” Francis huffs, “So I’ll shut it for you.”

pre-canon. Fitzjames - still as a baby lieutenant - and Crozier have a brief but very hot encounter during some Admiralty Party.

Caïssa by cosmogram

“You said you had a question,” Francis snapped, irritable already.

“Yes,” James said, flushed and resplendent still from the company next door—undaunted and loose-limbed in just the way that plucked cloying ire from a raw place in Francis. “How’s your chess game?”

A seduction.

a little bonus to the list, because i love this fic and it recently updated after a very long hiatus (it's still a wip tho but i hope the author manages to finish it, they're one of my favourite writers in this fandom). no hatesex here, it's more of a slow-burn with past Crozier/Ross and really great dialogues, as always. Neptune also makes an appearance.

Bespoke by ktula

James is trying to escape his grief after Sir John's death. Francis, in his own way, is trying to do the same. OR: The one where James Fitzjames has a bit of the genders, and his captain is surprisingly accommodating of that.

ending this rec list on a kinder and softer note, as a treat. this was one of the first fics ive read in this fandom and still one of my favourites. not really hate sex though they're still rather uncertain and wary about the other. very good, very sensual, gender-heavy. beautiful fic really.

BONUS have some excellent fitzjames/le vesconte and fitzjames/franklin - as a treat.

you don't have friends (you have admirers) by JamesFitzjames

James Fitzjames is a man who does not seek help.

each chapter deals with something different, so while the fic is unfinished it's not really some painful cliffhanger (tho i would love to see it completed one day). second chapter is some excellent, excellent Fitzconte. last chapter also has, why, of course, some really delightful ✨fitzier hatesex✨.

Hoo-ray and up she rises by TheGreenMeridian

They’re rip-roaringly drunk and laughing loud enough at each other to wake half the neighbourhood as they stumble into their lodgings.

i only like Fitzconte if it's done in a very specific way and this fic fits my needs just perfectly. just two besties being sillayyyy. what, like you never gave your bro a handjob just for shits and giggles?

Whatever morning brings by isamariposa

Brutus spends his life torn between disquiet, distaste and desperate pining for Caesar, leading to his infamous betrayal. In his own final moments, he raises a plea: “Jupiter Maximus, take pity on me. If by Your grace there is a way to atone for what I did to him, I beg You: let me do so in the afterlife.”

His wish is granted.

yes, yes, this is technically an HBO Rome fic but each chapter deals with a different time period - the third is dedicated to The Terror and can totally be read on its own. it's some truly excellent Sir John/Fitzjames with a sprimkle of some delightful Fitzconte tomfoolery. It's really, really good.

okay one last BONUS

devourer of debts by allmyloyaldead(van1lla_v1lla1n)

Cornelius Hickey receives, and devours, and adapts.

What Hickey receives from the universe and what he takes for himself, the pieces with which he sews himself together into a man, or something like one.

some incredible Hickey insanity. truly brilliant. the gifts Hickey receives from Billy, Irving and Fitzjames, short and sweet (by sweet i obviously mean gruesome and fucked up <3)

[random-autie-fangirl]

Hey, Do you have any Chara headcanons?

So technically I already have a reblogged post of Chara headcanons. Right here, within the tags. (99+) Chara neutralist squad on Tumblr

However, I most certainly have not run out of things to talk about and so...

I now present Chara Dreemurr headcanons 2: Electric Boogaloo

1. Yes, so as I said before, they have been spotted reading the dictionary cover to cover multiple times and reads english grammar books for fun. It is like they have to use one word literally nobody understands at least once a day or they will figuratively die. And of course, they would be the one to say figuratively every single time they use a metaphor or hyperbole or turn of phrase and they would get genuinely annoyed with anyone who says literally when they don't literally mean literally. Chara is the kind of kid who if someone says "can I", they will say "I don't know, can you?" like an english teacher because it's supposed to be "may I" for allowances. And, Azzy, it's supposed to be "Chara and I" not "me and Chara" ...no-one cares.

2. Something vocabulary related is that Chara absolutely, categorically refuses to swear! Apparently, contradictory to popular belief given that they're an "edgy" character, they think they are far too intelligent, high-class and mature for such gauche and vulgar words (did I mention they're a loser yet?), you see, and they would definitely consider using words that mean almost nothing to be a grave insult to their extensive vocabulary.

This doesn't mean they don't have certain stock phrases they use as exclamations or insults, though, of course. "asshole" or "bitch" becomes "you complete and utter ingrate", "what the fuck/hell?" becomes "What on this good earth/What in the Angel's name?" and "fuck you" becomes "may the angel smite you dead" or "may you burn in hell forevermore" (except that since Chara Dreemurr has proved themselves able to dish out much, much worse insults than "may the angel..." (stuff like "you look horrible, why are you even alive" for example) this might just be more annoyance than genuine hatred.)

So basically, while a normal person might say "Ow! Fuck!" when they stub their toe on something, Chara "Sesquipedalian loquaciousness" Dreemurr starts up an anime villain speech at nothing in particular while Asriel giggles and possibly records in the background. (Because of Asriel's apparent love for anime, he'd probably find his sibling's way of speaking to be the coolest thing ever as well as thinking it makes Chara some sort of uber-genius (note: it does not))

3. Okay so, since they tend to fixate on being impeccable in every way, even for the smallest of things, they can get embarrassed very easily and...very dramatically. Not finding the best word for every situation (particularly if they end up saying something wrong), not getting a perfect score on the test, anyone (who isn't the Dreemurrs) seeing them when their appearance is anything less than completely spotless.

They shall freeze and go completely blood red, they shall squeal and run off to their room. They will lie face down, not making a sound, and stay there for...hours. They will not respond, they will not be consoled. They have recently learnt they're not literally the best at everything ever and no, nothing will ever be okay again.

...They'll be back to normal within a day, though, boastful and eager to impress as ever. I think at some point they do learn that maybe not being perfect isn't the end of the world...eventually. Anyway, heard someone saying that hell exists for Flowey and it is minor inconveniences and that is true but hell also exists for Chara and it is minor embarrassments.

(Yes, I am aware this is very exaggerated, it's just more fun that way)

They have an equally dramatic, though positive, reaction to praise and compliments. Giddily skipping around and smiling ear to ear for hours, they tend to preen and straighten up, and it turns out they were lying and can cry, (a lot) just not out of sadness or fear. Though, they do get somewhat good at downplaying how much they care in front of acquaintances or strangers (even if they are nice and polite about it). Technically, only the Dreemurrs are allowed to know that Chara feels emotions.

(Also they have the same reaction to realising they are in fact the prophesied angel in the murder run, despite not being a praiseworthy accomplishment in any way, they're just happy to be, well...special. They always knew the prophecy was about them! Of course they were the angel, they're the best person in the world after all, finally they have the title they always deserved! Oh dear...)

[reading-stains]

miles morales & his spanish

I’d like to start with the disclaimer that headcanons are headcanons and if people are having fun with fluent Miles, then have fun. I’m so proud to see a Spider-Man with the blood I was raised with, with a mother who gives her bendiciones and kisses her son with the love I have seen my whole life. 

And while my discussion may be in criticism of some things, I need to communicate this before anyone thinks otherwise.

I am proud of Miles Morales and what he represents. I love to see his family really feel like the life of someone in the diáspora. It is heart melting, and it is worth so fucking much to me as someone that’s seeing the growing recognition on this small, lovable, beautiful island. He is a part of the pride of my flag and of my home.

So yeah, I love that Miles Morales is Boricua. 

But I do have some things I want to point out on Miles and the way he’s been observed within the fandom. After all, he’s kind of been discoursed into two people, neither of which I agree are accurate in the language sort of terms. 

The first point is the following.

Miles is not a fluent Spanish speaker, switching between languages in sentences because he can’t remember words or he’s lost in his own head. He thinks in English. 

Miles is not fluent enough, as observed by his vocabulary and sentence structure to think in Spanish. He is not a fluent character. He rushes words and in turn, speaks in Spanglish.

His pronunciation is the one thing that can be argued if the previous factors weren’t there. 

One can be fluent in English and still struggle with pronunciation. However, that requires well developed grammatical knowledge, which we haven’t observed enough from Miles. 

There’s only two full, Spanish spoken sentences that we see in the whole movie, which I will quickly break down. 

“¿Qué tal tío?” Directly translates to “how are you, [insert colloquial term of impersonal endearment]”. 

This is a quick greeting, not colloquial to Puerto Rican Spanish, and thus can be quickly assumed to be a class-learned thing. Which, you know, doesn’t help the argument that he is fluent.

And then there’s this:

“Te trajé una empanada.” That translates to “I brought you an empanada”.

Once again, this is a very easily taught sentence. Actually, it’s grammatically found to be a simple sentence, as it holds only one verb. But also, he pronounces the verb wrong. He pronounces it almost as “dress” instead of “brought you”. The meaning shifts with the spelling of the word (ex. papa vs papá). 

The second point follows.

Miles doesn’t need to be fluent to be a Spanish speaker. 

The Spider-Man clearly showcases understanding of his mother in the college counseling scene, and that is enough to observe him as a Spanish speaker.

People can say they speak a language after having enough knowledge to hold a conversation. The previous evidence observes Miles being able to conduct an introduction and a point. That’s enough words to be passable when ordering food, yk? And that’s good enough.

He’s definitely able to capture terms and realize what words mean, which clearly showcases how he can continue his effort to know more, but still has enough basics to communicate himself. 

And now, the final point.  

He doesn’t need to be a Spanish speaker to be Puerto Rican.

Miles isn’t explored enough in the language to show his understanding of Spanish as fluent.  

And that’s okay. Miles represents a very specific type of person. But also, he represents millions of experiences.

Being from somewhere else, being from a diáspora is an experience that while I personally haven’t been able to relate to fully, millions have. For example, all immigrants know what a diáspora is. Maybe not in the coined term, but in its significance and its pain. Being away from a motherland and living in a fundamentally different nation. 

But Puerto Rico is an interesting situation because it’s officially part of the United States’ territories, but is still experienced as a foreign place. One of its fundamental differences is the main language explored in the island, being Spanish vs the US’ English. 

And because of its particular, and very colonial-esque, nature around the island, Puerto Ricans can often find the discourse of what makes a Puerto Rican a Puerto Rican. Born, raised, fluent, and influenced by Puerto Rican culture are oftentimes the most important aspects to acknowledge someone as being from here.

Many times, people from diásporas find themselves being rejected in where they live, but are just as marginalized from where they come from (biologically, culturally, or otherwise). And this experience is what often bothers me about the whole situation regarding Miles’ Spanish. 

Because Miles, and any other Puerto Rican, doesn’t owe people a certain origin to be a Boricua. You can live your whole childhood in England after moving from the island, and still say you are Puerto Rican. You can be raised by Puerto Rican parents and never step into the island’s soil, and you are still Puerto Rican. You’re able to be born somewhere else, but be raised and loved by a family here, and you are still Puerto Rican. You are who you are, identity is in your grasp, and no one owes anything to others.

He doesn’t have to speak the language to still identify with the life of a Puerto Rican. Which is why it surprises me to observe people finalizing him as either not a speaker at all because he isn’t fluent (which btw implies he is less connected to his roots when you take away his interest in knowing) or he is fluent (which then takes away about his experience in the diáspora).

This is not to say that people in the diáspora cannot be fluent, just like they cannot be fully disconnected from the Spanish language. I’m personally identifying that Miles can be in between, and still be characterized as who he is within his canonical identity.  Final notes:

When wanting to write more Puerto Rican influenced work, be sure to inform yourself! There’s a lot of things to learn about, and it’s always lovely to know more.

Boricua is a term used in the island to refer to Puerto Ricans.

I definitely encourage people to inform themselves of the term diáspora, especially if you are of foreign descent from where you live!

And of course, thanks for reading!

[raphoupix]

a post to talk about the situation in France. if you're not into politics, not interested, it's fine, you can stop read.

for the other people. after the european election that saw the far-right easily won the election in France (≈32% for the Rassemblement National and ≈5% for Reconquête), Macron decided the dissolution of the French parliament and decided that the new election will be held 3 weeks later (which is very short period of time). There were many consequences with that dissolution:

- left parties allied to do a new coalition (Nouveau Front Populaire), from the radical-left parties to the social-democrate parties)

- the president of the Républicains (conservative) decided to ally with the Rassemblement National (far-right) but it created a lot of backlash in his own parties (they decided to destitute him and exclude him - but by the justice he's in theory still the president)

- Macron party and his allies (the Ensemble coalition, from centre to conservative) are still the same ones, he didn't receive any new allies from social-democrate and more conservative like they hoped)

At being at the risk of having the far-right in power in just a couple of weeks, I sincerely thought the media, politicians, personalities,.. would react and mobilise against the far-right. I was wrong. Very. Wrong.

Macron and most of his allies put an equal sign between the left coalition and the far-right. He said they were both as dangerous, both are extreme and if one of them win, it would be a civil war. What the fuck is wrong with this guy?? He, and his allies, are using populist tactics against the left coalition, say they are antisemitic (because they don't support Netanyahu government). He even used some far-right vocabulary to talk about the left policy agenda.

The media are not even better. They are attacking again and again the left coalition, the personalities, the agenda (saying it's impossible to make while many economic people are saying the contrary). Most of their guests on political shows are from the right to far-right saying shit about the left. They are people from Macron side saying the same shit.

The far-right stepped back from some of their policies, basically their policy agenda is almost inexistant. I'm nice to say "almost". Because there's still the racism (of course).

For them, the danger is the left. Not the far-right. The left.

We are on the verge of having back the far-right in power in France, for the first time since 1944, I'm disgusted, it makes me so sick. but nope, it's fine. it's fine for the media, for Macron, for the rich.

I forgot many, many things but I don't know how to write this properly. I'm very angry at this situation. Many people don't even really care because their life won't change if the far-right is in power, many people truly believe the fake news and lies of the far-right - some of them are truly racist, but some aren't but they are seeing in all news and political shows the lies and now they believe it's the real life.

Also, I hate the inability of the left to talk to some population. I hate that leaders of some left parties are still openly fighting each other for stupid things. I'm tired of this shit. Just shut the fuck up for now, talk privately: we have a bigger problem, WAY BIGGER, problem right now.

[mlybrnte]

Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov (Book Review)

What no one tells you about reading Lolita is that there is an initial visceral shock to encountering a very fucked up story. And then years later, you read it again in full attention and skill without realizing that so much tears have run out of you. 

Me at 15: “this is horrific.”

Me at 22: “sad, sad, sad.”

I found myself weeping the moment I woke up from a nap induced by the memory of Nabokov’s novel. Lolita is told from the perspective of the pedophile himself, Humbert Humbert. What I respect so much from Nabokov is that no matter how, in minute subtle ways, we get a glimpse of victim Dolores Haze’s mind, a triumphant reader is able to grasp the whole spectrum of her childhood. How her rebellious streak is a scream of help, her calculating participation in Humbert’s crime is an attempt to get away from him, that she, even in her young age, is able to discern and choose a miserable life as opposed to being with him. And contrary to popular opinion, Humbert was less manipulative. Dolores hated his guts, and had seen through his actions and words. And Nabokov presents Humbert only as a manipulator of a story rather than his own life. He is a terrible, pathetic, egoistic white man who believes he is not like other pedophiles by associating the beauty of his victim akin to Botticelli’s Venus. Lolita wasn’t groomed because Humbert was easily a charming man, she was groomed because she had nowhere else to go. And of course, who would dehumanize a 12-year old for not having enough agency to get away? 

What is so incredibly impressive in Nabokov’s approach that I believe some authors should imitate is depicting a crime without making it pornographic. For a book that is basically a pedophile’s account, the scenes were not explicit or sensual. But since he aimed to write from the point of view of a man who finds this as aesthetically pleasing, the narrative is obscured in flowery language and metaphor.  At one point, I could not gather whether he had already done it because of his attempts to pacify the reader with impressive writing. Even sickening was arguing that there was nothing wrong after all since Lolita was no longer a virgin.

At the very core, Lolita is a horror story. I am quite appalled at the common general belief that it is a love story; that at some point, Humbert did love his little girl. ‘The tragedy lies in their unrequited romance.’ Nabokov would’ve risen from the grave. I would argue that, yes, while the rape scenes were subtext, and the author did not attempt to exhaust anatomical details,  (actually, no matter how embellished a rape scene is with highbrow vocabulary and figures of speech, it’s an issue of skill for not arriving at the conclusion that he raped her, or perhaps a denial of one’s own true mental compass.) one paragraph from the novel struck me as a very obvious admission of guilt:

“Alas, I was unable to transcend the simple human fact that whatever spiritual solace I might find, whatever lithophanic eternities might be provided for me, nothing could make my Lolita forget the foul lust I had inflicted upon her. Unless it can be proven to me — to me as I am now, today, with my heart and by beard, and my putrefaction — that in the infinite run it does not matter a jot that a North American girl-child named Dolores Haze had been deprived of her childhood by a maniac, unless this can be proven (and if it can, then life is a joke), I see nothing for the treatment of my misery but the melancholy and very local palliative of articulate art.”

Humbert himself acknowledges that to otherwise admit he had ruined Lolita’s life is a joke. He would go to hell in any religion because of the foul lust he had inflicted upon her. And no being could prove to him that he did not deprive her of a childhood. No subtext needed. No desire for hints. So many paragraphs are evidence alone. Nabokov never painted Humbert in a color different from a monster. Many times he was clearly written like a pathetic loser who died as miserable as he was living. I believe Humbert’s account to have someone sympathize with him is in earnest, a hypocritical and narcissistic attempt to not hold himself fully accountable. And to point a finger at the author for being a ‘creep’ because of his depiction of abuse is quite ridiculous. Reading the book carefully would equip you with a crystal clear conclusion that depiction is not always endorsement. So to arrive at romanticizing the story, Nabokov does a good job of holding up a mirror to show confirmation that abuse can be in the form of romantic prose, that we lack the ability to set apart roses from blood. 

This is perhaps one of the saddest books I have ever read. I hope all Dolores Hazes in the world find peace and happiness. 

[01mishchelle]

What I’ve learned so far about ‘manifesting’

i find it extremely idiotic how people believe that they have to do this and that to get their desire. believe me, i used to be like that too. 2-3 years ago i joined a shifting community and let me tell ya, everyone overcomplicated the basics. thats when i gave up and left.

a few weeks ago when i was in a negative, heartbroken state and was begging to have my sp back, a manifestation video came up from this user called hyler. i followed her instructions and even sammy ingram’s.

that’s also where i discovered neville goddard for the first time.

i found it quite odd that we had to do affirm all the time, and thats what i did. i still felt weird, unaccomplished. i did get results, the negatives and the positives. i kept on holding on those results as a proof my sp loved me. but deep inside i knew what i was doing was completely wrong. if they tell you to live in the end, why would i affirm 24/7 to have that desire?

+also adding this, i’ve heard about the void state everywhere in pinterest and here and let me tell ya, after the experiences i’ve had in the shifting community, i stayed the (language) fuck away from that. yes sorry for the people who do the void state, yes cool if you do it if it works for you but for me i just hate doing methods.

it didnt make sense for me. i decided to listen to myself and found out more about neville goddard and edward art.

these two gentlemen made me open my eyes for the first time. this is what ive been missing. ive missed the whole point, everyone missed the whole point.

please study edward art’s works and his i am meditation.

anyways, the whole point is that you literally don’t have to lift a finger to have that desire you want. i’ve made some notes for myself when reading edward art:

“If you lived in a world where all things are possible, and you could create anything you want, would you choose to create a situation and then worry about it? No you would not. You only do because you are identifying yourself with your Outer-man! When I start to feel afraid, or worry, or feel pressure that causes me anxiety, I realize that I AM the INNER MAN CREATING that in the WORLD OF IMAGINATION.”

“I want you to stop worrying about HOW or WHEN it is going to happen and instead FEEL secure KNOWING this 3D world reflects what your INNER SELF HAS AND IS WITHIN.”

“In order to actually lose yourself in the imaginal act, one must accept it is real and let go entirely of the outer-world.”

“One must suspend rational thinking, and just accept it is real. They will free themselves that way in their mind.”

“You cannot be afraid anymore to feel and imagine what you want.”

“When I speak of feeling I do not mean emotion, but acceptance of the fact that desire is fulfilled.”

everything is all YOU. everything comes from YOU. YOU are the reason why things are like this. there’s legit no Universe telling you what you have to do. there isn’t anyone you have to follow to have what you want. no. that isn’t the point. the point is that you have been following yourself. everything has been you all along.

so basically about having that desire in imagination….. i know that you don’t have it physically in 3D but that does not matter. the thing you desire is the FEELING. please you must be very (excuse for my language) fucking stupid if you want it in the 3D.

imagine you already have your sp in the 3D, youve done the hard work and he’s/she’s yours now. great. you don’t feel anything, do you?

why do you want to be with your sp? ask yourself that.

im probably thinking that you want to be loved, yes?

bingo, that is the exact thing you desire. YOU desire to be loved. and guess what?

you are already loved. you legit don’t have to do anything to be loved. you are already loved. and i know, how tf am i loved when i’m single?

get that ‘single’ off your vocabulary. what’s important here that the 3D does not define you. put it inside your head. repeat that. remind yourself that.

the 3D is a reflection of your 4D. the 3D wouldn’t exist if the 4D never existed. the 3D lives off of the 4D (your imagination basically)

see? don’t tire yourself out by worrying about the 3D that you cannot change. it’s all in place, you cannot change it. the only way you can change it is by changing yourself.

no i do not want you to change your sp’s behaviour (remember eiypo) i want you to change your behaviour.

how?

well, how would you act and feel if you’re dating your sp?

would you still be worrying about the 3p? would you keep on checking his status if he’s online? would you be wondering if he loves you? would you be questioning on why he hasn’t came back?

all of that is useless! you’re basically still embodying as someone who’s desiring their sp. that is not what you want.

it is easy. you wouldn’t do all of those things. you already embody as someone who is in a happy relationship with your sp. you already know that you are loved. you never have to worry about them. you never feel stressed at all. you’re happy.

that is what’s important. you don’t have to be in the same state all the time btw, if you get reminded or get extremely anxious; just STOP FOR A SECOND.

don’t start affirming or start visualizing. don’t ask yourself if you’re doing it right. what is the point????? of asking that??????

instead, all you have to do is ‘know’ you already have them. leave it be. don’t meddle with it. trust that it has already happened. spoiler: it did ;)

don’t even think about the 3D, the 3D instantly changed because you changed. there is no such thing about waiting for the 3D to conform. there is no such thing about the 3D being your slave and has to obey you (let me tell ya i was confused when i saw those affirmations) the 3D and the 4D go by hand in hand. that’s the thing here.

so yeah.

i’ve read edward art’s works (plus other ppl) like few days ago so this is all the things i’ve learned. just in few days, how crazy is that lmao.

anyways, i hope you learned something from here, i also learned some new stuff while writing this.

bye 🫡