#tw derogatory terms

[gimmethemprimals]

🌊 wavecrest-confessions  Follow

whenever I see someone making fun of the tidelords disappearance I get SO angry. Its just so insensitive to water dragons, and it ALWAYS comes from a wind, earth, or ice dragon. Like I don’t think you have any ground to stand on guys, your deities are still more neglectful than the tidelord and he’s not even here

❄️ ice-ice-baby  Follow

Dude your god has been gone for so long his long lost children came back before him

🪨 freshpebble-deactivated

Aren’t you the one who carved your fanart of femboy Icewarden into the side of the pillar.

❄️ ice-ice-baby  Follow

???? You’re literally a shade apologist

💫 see-the-stars  Follow

HOW ARE THERE SHADE APOLOGISTS ON DRUMBLR IN THIS DAY AND AGE I THOUGHT THEY WERE ONLY ON DRITTER

🍃 riding-high  Follow

are we gonna just brush over the femboy icewarden thing

🦅 talonafan2477  Follow

@ see-the-stars the Arcanist is the ORIGINAL shade apologist what are you talking about

🦅 talonafan2477  Follow

btw “ice ice baby” is apart of from clan froststep that has a history of supporting the gaolers during the freezeflash war and thus the destruction of the banescales

🌑 walkingshadows Follow

Yeah but what about the femboy icewarden thing

🔥 its-gettin-hot  Follow

you can excuse genocide but draw the line at femboy icewarden?

🌑 walkingshadows Follow

im not drawing the line i just wanna see it myself

🌺 bug-claws Follow

thats fair

[landfilloftrash]

local entity peeks at human mythology to choose something recognizable and decides to fuck around

[robthegoodfellow]

Directly follows this snippet. Takes place in Spin Me Right Round universe, where Billy’s path deviates before he assaults Lucas in canon timeline (hence the vibe between them here is less fraught than you’d expect). Despite that, Billy still has to confront the lingering effects of being raised by a bigot (by which I mean, his own racism), and this snippet reflects on that process. Trigger warning for mention of racist stereotypes and past encounters with derogatory terms related to Latino community.

He and McKinney fell into a pseudo routine, heading to the community courts when practice let out and staying until either it got too cold or too late, and then Billy would drive him home. They figured out that if McKinney was wearing orange sweatbands on his wrists, Billy could more accurately aim for his hands without turning his way, and McKinney had taken to calling a stream of “B—B—B!” whenever he was coming up behind for an open shot.

Sinclair joined them one afternoon when Billy wanted to try a drill that only worked with three players—turned out the kid was more athletic than he looked, and way more into basketball than Billy realized. Apparently he and Sinclair, Sr. followed the Indiana teams religiously, college and pro, but Junior had been so desperate to talk ball with someone nearer his own age that he didn’t shut up for like half an hour, going on and on about their draft prospects, singing the praises of Stipo and Special K, bemoaning the Pacers’ shitty season—1 and 8 since New Year’s, which… yikes.

McKinney had tolerated the high-pitched chatter with good grace, not that Sinclair needed more than the odd grunt for fuel, and gave him some pointers to improve his stance, his shot. When Billy had asked later, en route to Maple after offloading McKinney, why he’d never mentioned even the slightest interest in basketball before, Sinclair had replied, with more hilarious vitriol than should be possible from the mouth of a literal child: “You’re a Lakers fan.”

“We’re not even in the same conference!” Billy had countered, indignant despite the amusement. “Hate on the Celtics, for Christ’s sake.”

“I can hate on both,” he declared.

“Whatever, dude,” Billy said, dismissive, deliberately provoking. “You just wish you had some of that magic—I get it.”

Sinclair had boiled for the rest of the ride, to Billy’s glee.

And look—he’d started all this with the goal of improvement, but it was a narrow, maybe selfish, maybe dickish kind of improvement: upping his game to antagonize some douchebag. But the more they practiced, just them two and with the team, the more he just… liked it. He really, really liked playing point guard. It felt… good?... to set the guys up for success, to tip into motion the dominos that put points on the board. Even though he wasn’t scoring as much, himself—it was a different kind of satisfying, knowing he’d made the right call when someone else made a bucket.

Which was great—maybe his heart had grown a couple sizes or whatever—but… there was another unintended side-effect. One that he was simultaneously so reluctant to confront directly and yet so desperately glad for that… he could hardly have explained it if asked.

He recognized it now because it had happened to him before, back home. It was—it was like this: So, Neil was… fucking racist, right? Billy’s whole life, the bastard had spewed all kinds of vicious, vile shit, and more subtle, insidious shit. Like, it took Billy ages to figure out, when he was little, what his dad meant whenever he mockingly referred to Frito Banditos, even long after the chip company discontinued the mascot. Another one: in third grade, Billy learned the meaning of greenback a couple weeks before he heard Neil rant about a seemingly similar term, and it took a mortifying mix-up at school for him to realize his dad hadn’t meant skyrocketing rates of soggy dollar bills.

Even as a kid, a part of him knew Neil was off-base—knew he was wrong—but as the years wore on, and all that garbage piled up in his ears, it… it poisoned the well water. Billy didn’t mean to, but for a while, an invisible finger pressed Play on the tape recorder in his brain whenever he crossed paths with any Latino—and he’d tense, get all awkward, precisely because he’d be trying to act normal despite the foul phantom torrent reminding him on a loop that they were all gang bangers, drug dealers, lazy freeloaders, illegal aliens, on and on and on.

And Billy’d had this paranoia, that somehow… they knew? That one look in his eyes and his thoughts would be manifest, even though he didn’t believe those things, even though he would press Stop if he could, bash the tapes to smithereens if he knew how. He’d been polluted—felt it intensely—how Neil’s ugliness had become his ugliness.

It wasn’t until middle school, when he started surfing sometimes with this kid Joaquin, who’d then introduced him to Manny and Luis, that he realized he could filter out the mental contaminants through… well, meaningful interaction with people—with the targets of Neil’s bullish bigotry. He’d started recording new stuff, true stuff, over the old.

Like… how Joaquin’s family had been in California long before it was even a state, and still visited relatives just over the arbitrary line in Baja; how Luis was living proof that everything Neil had sneered about the Sanctuary movement was bullshit, because there was a genocide going on in Guatemala and the US was backing the slaughter—had a hand in all the bloodshed plaguing the region, in fact; how Manny’s uncle had been one of the artists who’d transformed the concrete pylons of Coronado Bridge into a towering medley of murals, remaking Chicano Park into something beautiful rather a bleak reminder of the wholesale destruction of a neighborhood in favor of a motorway.

How Joaquin could make him laugh harder than anyone else with his lightning-fast, brutal quips, but Luis showed him the value of just sitting on his board, legs dangling, and feel the rise and fall of the surge like a pair of lungs beneath him; how Mexican food was hands-down the best thing Billy had ever tasted—not that there’d been much competition, considering his Ma’s favorite dish involved pickled fish and Susan’s most adventurous seasoning was salt; how as soon as Billy mentioned wanting a tattoo, Manny had brought him badass sketches of skulls… and when Billy’s mom had passed, had dropped off this little painting of some lilies, which he’d only been able to look at once and then put it away in the shoebox—safekeeping, not safe for opening.

It wasn’t like they were constantly hanging out or baring their souls—and Billy bared almost nothing—but you spend enough time with people over the years and you can piece stuff together. He missed them—wished he’d let them in, let them see more of him than the laid-back, wise-cracking beach bum. Hadn’t seen them since last March, when he’d gone off the rails. Hadn’t even said goodbye before leaving town.

Anyway. Went without saying, but Neil’s myriad prejudices hadn’t been limited to Latinos, and so—yeah, sometimes with Sinclair, with Jeff, and McKinney and other guys on the team… same playback problem, different tape. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been when he was a kid, probably because of the groundwork he’d already done thanks to his surfer buddies, and because he wasn’t an idiot child anymore who only had his parents to go off of—he read shit, and he had eyes.

Yet he couldn’t ignore—and was secretly relieved—that another round of re-recording was afoot, because just knowing abstractly, academically, that Neil was full of shit and racism was, you know, bad… it couldn’t compare to actually getting to know a person. First, there’d been Sinclair, and Jeff, to a limited degree—and now…

He was pretty sure he and Patrick McKinney were… friends? Guys didn’t exchange bracelets, or whatever, so unless they were Labradors in human form like Eddie, it was sometimes hard to tell when you’d crossed from the neutral status of “teammates” to something chummier. On Billy’s end, nicknames meant you were in—and he didn’t seem to mind Billy trimming his first and last—but maybe for Pat, the “B” was just… expedient?

It was more than that, though, because… like, he knew that Patrick had two older brothers—one about to graduate from Purdue and one living in Chicago who worked in advertising and had been involved in the Coke Adds Life campaign his first year in the business. That his father had died of cancer five ago, so his uncle, his mom’s brother, had moved in to help keep the household afloat. That he didn’t like his uncle much, for reasons Billy could guess.

Pat was shy—he tended to clam up in group settings, preferred to quietly observe, only piping in when he felt strongly about something—but once you got him alone, he had a mega puckish streak. Laughed easily, ragged on Billy nonstop, always in good fun, and could take it as well as dish it. Which was fortunate, because: ABBA. And just in general, the dude’s musical tastes were weird as fuck. He showed up at the community courts with a boombox one afternoon and started blasting a disco mix, for crying out loud. Claimed he played better when he had some groovy tune stuck in his head.

So, yeah. Friends, or… getting there.

The results of all their extracurricular practice were—pretty immediate, and pretty obvious. Both of them got more minutes with every game, the team started winning more than losing. Billy pretended not to notice how Carver was increasingly ornery about it—real waspish, pun definitely intended. When Coach announced the starting line-up ahead of a Friday match toward the end of January with Hargrove and McKinney at one and two, Carver flushed to the roots of his lame accountant haircut, but waited until the team had been dismissed to the showers to unleash on a poor innocent locker—the clanging kick carried over the hiss of water and booming chatter, and even when most of the team had finished getting dressed, Carver’s every movement was imbued with a violent flourish.

It was honestly delicious to witness, though Billy made a point not to glance at him directly, monitoring instead with his—by now, very well-honed—peripheral vision. On the way out, trailed stoically by Baker and Copeland, the little pissant muttered, just loudly enough for everyone to hear, how the sport was clearly turning toward cheap tricks and theatrics, and wasn’t it a shame.

The door had barely swung closed when Billy keeled over, hands on knees, cackling like a fiend. Harrington, who’d been apprised of the plan since day one, playfully kneed him in the side and Billy flopped to the gross tile floor, still laughing, arms raised in a reclining Rocky victory pose. There was a smattering of chuckles around the room.

“Watch your back, B,” murmured Pat, leaning over him from his perch on the bench, his voice laden with amusement. “First it’s cheap tricks, then magic tricks, then…” He raised his brows.

“Turning tricks,” Billy finished, as though doomed to his fate, and Patrick snorted. “Don’t worry, man.” He accepted the offered hand and pulled himself upright. “No one’s gonna see me with the devil.”

They won that Friday at home against Jefferson High—a real nail-biter to the final minute, when Billy somehow managed a devious no-look bounce pass to Patrick in the paint for a jump shot so picture perfect that the bench rioted.

“That was some Showtime shit!” Pat hollered over the chaos of mobbing teammates at the final buzzer. He launched himself atop Billy in a semi-hug from behind, then bounded over to his mom in the stands, who was still in her scrubs under her winter coat.  

There was talk of a celebratory bonfire at the quarry, and as he and Harrington were leaving the locker room, intending to at least swing by, have a couple beers, Billy paused.

“Hey, Mickey!” he called. “You need a lift?”

Patrick scrunched his nose, caught up with them as they headed for the parking lot. “Ma’s gonna want me home.”

“We’re not planning to stay long,” Billy tried. “Could ya talk her into an hour?”

“You made the winning shot,” Harrington pointed out. “That’s gotta earn you something.”

Pat shook his head wryly. “No one talks her into anything, but I’ll ask. Wait up?”

They hung back while he jogged to his mother in the lobby, winced when his beseeching look was met with an unimpressed flat stare. When her gaze flicked their way, they both startled, then simultaneously raised an awkward hand. She bit her lips, repressing a smile—the same way Pat often did—turned back to her son, and let him plead his case a bit more. Uttered a few stern words that had Patrick alternately shaking and nodding his head, then shooed him away.

“Home by eleven thirty,” he said, and waved his arm in an after you toward the winter night.

[thenexusofsouls]

Our Harsh Reality || closed with shadowonthesea

@shadowonthesea

All indications were that it would be another typical day in the Troll Market. It was bustling as usual, with all manner of languages spoken, wares selling, and services rendered. Nuada did not come to the Market very often, choosing to send Mr. Wink or the bark children to acquire what he needed. It was simpler that way, for he somewhat stopped the natural flow of the Market with his presence. Today, however, he decided to do so. The bark children had seen some candy they wanted, and so he had gone to help them purchase it. Several pairs followed him as he walked slowly through, their various heads crunching and chewing happily on the coveted candies. He was good to them, and they were his loyal friends. Others in the Market were wary of Nuada, quickly moving out of his way, while still others bowed formally to him as he passed. Even with his reputation what it was, he was still royalty.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, although some of it was infuriating. Never being one to hide what he felt or to be shy about expressing his opinions, Nuada let many a vendor know his displeasure at seeing car parts, toys, electronics, and other such items of human origin for sale. The skin suits were the worst. Absurd, rubber or latex coverings that would help fae to form themselves to the size and shape of a human, for the purposes of blending in. What a farce, Nuada told them. What an utter disgrace. They ought to be ashamed of themselves. Not all agreed with the Elven prince’s sentiment as he demanded everyone’s attention and gave a speech on the subject, but none dared to argue with him.

By this time, word had gotten around that Nuada was in the Market and criticizing certain vendors for their wares. This prompted a few of them to attempt to close up shop, and as Nuada passed by one of them, he was disgusted and infuriated by what he saw. Many small cages, each one containing a different creature, were stacked beside an unceremonious cart beside them. The creatures were all illegal to be kept as pets, with many of them being ones with dwindling numbers. They were intelligent too, gripping the bars of their cages and peer out with sad eyes, or beating the bars with their arms, tentacles, and other appendages. This was enough for Nuada to make a beeline toward the merchant, but as he got closer, one of the creatures in he cages caught his attention, and his heart nearly stopped.

It was an infant unicorn, or at least it looked like one, lying down in a cage too small for it. Nuada shuddered both from rage and sadness, and suddenly the pathway surrounding the merchant’s shop was cleared. Everyone ran, closed up shop, shuttered windows, and made themselves scarce. All except the bark children, that is, who knew Nuada wasn’t angry at them and wouldn’t harm them. Going up to the cages, they offered some of their precious candies to the creatures as a gesture of kindness. Some accepted them, but others, like the unicorn, only stared back fearfully.

“What... is the meaning of this?!” Nuada yelled, storming up to the vendor, a short and stout, knobby creature of perhaps some Dwarven and Trollish mix. “How dare you sell these creatures as if they were mere commodities! You are no better than the humans! Give me the keys, at once,” he said, holding out his hand. The merchant merely cowered. “Your keys! Now!” Nuada insisted, and soon a ring of jingling keys was placed into his hand. He tossed them to the bark children. “Free them. All of them,” Nuada commanded, and soon the children were fighting over the keys, going up to each cage in turn and trying one key after the other until they had found the right one.

“Whot?! No, don' do that, I-!” the vendor began.

Nuada drew his sword and tipped the short man’s chin up with it. “Yes? You... what? What could you possibly say to explain your shameful actions? Hmm? I’m waiting,” Nuada said with an arrogant, eerie, yet for now subdued anger.

“I... uh...” the man tried, but Nuada was not a patient sort.

“Not fast enough,” Nuada said, preparing to end his life. “You waste my time.”

“Wait! I-I can tell ya who I gots them all from! Surely she’s tha one whot deserves yer anger, m’lord!” the man tried.

That... stayed Nuada’s hand temporarily. “Go on.”

“They call ‘er Mommy Fortuna! She's got a hut at th’end o' Goldire Lane! She’s tha one whot gave ‘em all ta me ta sell!” he said, clearly thinking this would absolve him completely.

Nuada lowered his blade and took a slow step back. “Thank you. You have been most helpful.” Glancing at the children, he saw that they had managed to open all of the cages, and that the majority of creatures had already scampered away. “There’s just... one final thing...” With a swift flourish, he lifted his blade again and sliced off the man’s right hand. He screamed in pain as greenish-black blood spilled out onto the ground. “You are not blameless here, and now everyone will know it. You are marked forever as a thief, for you have stolen their lives away,” he said, pointing to the mostly empty cages. “If I ever... see you in this market again, I will kill you. Is that understood?” With that, he went to inspect the cages.

The bark children were pointing to the unicorn, waving at Nuada to come and see it. While all other creatures had run away to gain back their freedom, the unicorn seemed afraid to even leave its cage. Crouching nearby, Nuada peered into the cage, feeling emotion well up in his chest. As a young one he had once glimpsed a unicorn in his native forest. It had dropped its glamour to allow him to see its true self, and Nuada had been forever changed. His heart began to beat faster, tears were shed, and he had never forgotten the way the unicorn had made him feel. The foal before him now appeared not to know how to glamour itself yet. That is how young it was.

“It’s alright...” Nuada whispered, almost reaching for it when... he looked at his hands. How many lives had he taken with them? How much blood had they bathed in? Hands like his... should never touch a unicorn. “A blanket, please...” Nuada said to the surrounding bark children, and they scurried off in search of one. “Hello, dear one,” he whispered to the foal, who was now eyeing him cautiously. “I mean you no harm. Come out. Come to me, it’s alright.”

At his coaxing, the foal started to squirm out of the cage, stopping every now and then to eye him timidly. Once it had gotten out, it stood to its full height on thin, shaky legs.

“That’s it...” Nuada whispered encouragingly, smiling as he took out a pair of gloves and slipped them on his hands. The bark children returned with a blanket, four pairs needing to hold it above all their heads to keep it from dragging on the ground. “Thank you,” he said, taking he blanket and laying it over his lap as he knelt down. “Come here. It’s alright,” he said to the foal as he slowly reached for it. Trembling, scared, and cold, the foal welcomed someone warm who would hold it.

Picking the foal up and cradling in his arms, Nuada wrapped the blanket around it and gently scratch its belly in an attempt to calm it down. The unicorn watched his face intently, seeming to be placated by this gesture. But after a short time, when Nuada attempted to put it down onto its feet so it could follow him back to his home, the baby began to cry and bleat. “Alright, alright,” he said, chuckling a little. “I’ll hold you, if that is what you wish.” What an honor, for a unicorn to want him to hold it. With a parade of happy bark children trailing him, Nuada carried the foal back to his home underneath the Market, for he could not very well take it with him while he confronted this... Mommy Fortuna.

Mr. Wink was there when he returned, making tea. He did so in the privacy of Nuada’s home where other trolls would not see him and judge. Tea-drinking was not exactly seen as an acceptable warrior troll pastime. Upon seeing Nuada returning with what looked like a tiny unicorn in his arms, Wink was shocked. He pointed at the creature, speaking in his own rough and rumbling native tongue.

“I know. I thought they were as well,” Nuada said. Extinct. That’s what he’d thought unicorns had been for the past few centuries at the least. He had neither seen nor heard of one in ages. “I have important business I need to attend to immediately. Can you please watch this little one while I do so?” Nuada asked.

Wink shrugged as if to say, sure.

“You must hold it,” Nuada said.

“What?” Mr. Wink asked in his own language.

“It does not wish to be put down. The poor thing is frightened, and with good reason. Keep it wrapped. Avoid touching it directly. We are too soaked in blood to be touching such an innocent creature,” he said as he lay the unicorn into Wink’s arms.

The baby looked from Nuada to Wink, unsure about this new development. It decided it didn’t like Wink. He smelled funny and didn’t seem as warm as the other, and so the baby began to struggle.

“Gently rub the belly. Like this,” Nuada said, showing him.

The baby settled down, deciding that, well, if he was going to rub its belly then maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. Wink sighed.

“I know,” Nuada repeated, smirking a little. “But I shan’t be long.” Already turning to go, he directed the bark children to stay behind. “Remain here. Help him.”

They all nodded and waved to Nuada, then crowding Mr. Wink to see the baby better as the troll sat down on a nearby stool. They climbed onto Wink’s shoulders and waves at the unicorn, making little faces and giggling to hold its attention.

Nuada made haste through the market, finding it much quieter and more subdued than before. Going to the end of Goldire Lane as he had been informed to, he found a strange little hut and knew exactly what he was dealing with... A Baba Yaga. “Come out this instant and face me, witch!”

“Go away, elf! You are no prince of mine!” the old woman yelled back, having already been informed of who was coming for her.

“You are engaging in activity that violates the laws of this Market, and you will answer for them!” Nuada insisted.

“Who are you to bark of laws when you yourself are a pariah?” the woman said, slowly ambling out of her hut and narrowing an accusing eye at Nuada. She was short and hunched, passing for what might have been an old human but for her sharp teeth, her thick, leathery skin, and the bark and branches growing out from atop her head. A raven perched on one of the highest reaching branches. Bones, baubles, and other trinkets clanked and jingled all over her person as she hobbled up to him, unafraid. “This is a market, is it not? There are plenty her who appreciate my wares. What harm is there in selling what I... do not enjoy myself...?” she said, laughing lowly. Baba Yagas were of course known for eating many things... and individuals.

“Selling rare creatures that are almost gone from this world? And for what? To consume them? To make money off of their misfortune? You must be punished,” he concluded, drawing his blade, but Fortuna was one step ahead of him...

“Sleep, elf... Sleep forever...” she said, lifting her long, bony, clawed fingers and beginning to cast a spell of deep sleep on Nuada.

Instantly, Nuada felt tired and weakened. It was hard to keep his eyes open and he swayed where he stood. “No...” he said. “No!” but try as he might, he could not fight the effects of the spell. Sleep magic was not anything that Sun Elves had any kind of resistance to, and this particular Baba Yaga was an old one, very capable in her craft.

Fortuna began to cackle as she continued the spell, but her cackles soon turned into screeches as her long white hair was suddenly lifted and drawn over her face, breaking her line of sight with Nuada and aborting the spell before it could be completed.

Nuada’s strength rapidly returned, and as it did so, he could see a small white pseudodragon, no more than a foot long from snout to tail tip, struggling to hold Fortuna’s hair over her eyes as she swatted and cursed at it. “Fly clear!” he shouted to it and it immediately did so. The moment the dragon was a safe distance away, Nuada spun himself around, slicing through the air with his sword and beheading the old witch. Her head bounced and rolled with the hollow sound of a coconut shell. Within seconds, the head and the body it had one been attached to had fizzled into smoke and were gone.

The small dragon landed on Nuada’s shoulder. He recognized it as one of the creatures he had helped free from the cages earlier. “Thank you, friend,” Nuada spoke in Draconic. “Go, now. Enjoy your freedom. But promise me you will be much more careful from now on.” It nodded to him and flew off.

Nuada was not about to leave before checking Fortuna’s hut for more imprisoned creatures. it looked so small and quaint, but Baba Yagas were often deceptive, and if she was running an entire smuggling ring here, Nuada supposed that there might be more to this than met his eye. With his sword still drawn, he cautiously entered.

It looked like an average witch’s hut, with herbs and crystals and various cooking and spell components hanging around or lying on shelves. Nothing out of the ordinary, but at its back was a door. Slowly pushing open that door, Nuada was suddenly faced with a larger building... and many more cages full of rare creatures...

[mxbitters]

ooooof. the other thing about being native is doing your family research and coming across some real flattering uh documents that had some real interesting ways of referring to your ancestors

[yanderenightmare]

TW: NSFW, dubcon/noncon, slave darling, crude and derogatory terms, classism, abuse of power, death threats

fem reader

Thinking about the poor kitchen maid who's suddenly told she's to be the spoiled Prince's new chambermaid.

It hasn’t even gone a day yet, but you already miss your job in the kitchens.

Sure, the sweltering heat of the ovens always left you in a state of fever, and kneading dough from dawn ‘til dusk made your arms acidic with burns – unyieldingly sore – not to mention never getting a chance to sit down and rest before collapsing in bed at the end of the day. But the smell of freshly baked buns and the chance to sneak a bite out of those that came out of the oven just a bit too burnt for serving had always felt like payment enough.

That and not having to deal with the royal family.

You know you should feel honored. You know it’s supposed to feel godsend to be picked to become the Prince’s personal servant. But… there was a reason he so often required a change of maid.

You still remember the last one they’d taken from the kitchen. She was pretty and young and shouldn’t have been working there in the first place – that’s what everyone used to say before she disappeared.

You wonder if such words carry curses… and what you did to deserve the same things being said about you.

You nearly cried standing outside The Prince’s chambers, chewing on your lip with his breakfast tray in hand, wondering what rumors were true – if he really was as terrible as everyone claims – wondering where the other kitchen maid went and whether you’d end up in the same place… wondering what you could do to keep it from happening.

You don’t know what you were standing there waiting for, nearly pissing yourself when you knew he was still out – busy hunting down a couple of runaway servants for sport. It was almost as though you feared the room itself, as though it would bite once crossing the threshold. 

None of the sorts happened, though a gust of warm wind hit you like the breath of a beast once you opened the door.

Inside, there were around a dozen heads mounted on the wall – dragons, bears, lions, wolves, and other creatures you weren’t too sure of – all with mouths big enough to bite yours off.

You took only a second to look at them before they looked as though they’d leap from the walls and eat you alive, just like you’d predicted.

You set the tray of food down on the bedside table and walked to the bathroom to draw his bath – deciding work would keep your mind off it.

Stepping out a second later, you fixed a fire in the hearth and made to make the bed, stretching the duvet and the quilt over the massive mattress while eyeing the thread count with envy and the hand-stitching with awe. Left to wonder how many ducks had been shot to stuff the mountain of plush pillows he’d all but thrown onto the floor to make space for himself.

Walking through the steam to the bath again, you opened the cupboard to pick out soaps and oils – overwhelmed by the sight of every shelf stocked full of all sorts you’d never seen – glad you had somewhat decent reading skills – unlike many of the other maids.

Soaping the water, you sat on the edge and waited with a hand wading through the warmth – and while biting your lip, you let your mind wander again – daydream, like it so often did – imagining what it would be like to feel it on the rest of your skin, warm and smooth, sucking all the stress out and leaving you soft like a newborn.

He watched you enjoy yourself, his stark eyes calmly assessing what they saw with a tilt of his head – trailing from the tip of your worn-out shoes to the tattered edge of your grey maid’s dress, up your lap to the cinch of your waist where your white apron was bound – taking his time until your eyes fluttered open to find him standing there.

You nearly fell into the water, hopping up to a stance. “Sorry, your majesty- I forgot myself! Please forgive me.” You bowed, looking down at the muddy stains on your gray shoes – in anxious wait of his wrath.

But instead of a backhanded slap that would send you straight to the stone floor or a spit of venom which would make you flinch and cry, he spoke a calm and patient “Come here-”

Though spoken in a certain tone of authority that forced you forward in quick steps until stopping just short of him – still with eyes downcast.

“Mh, I'm glad they haven't run out of cute ones down there.” He said then, once you stood only a hair's length from him – voice just as calm as before and inspiring just as much surprise in you still, though now joined with visible confusion in the crinkle it caused between your brows. A furrow that only deepened once he reached out his hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Your majesty?” You questioned.

“It’s master.” He corrected sharply, and you grew unsure if his voice wasn’t just cold rather than calm. “I like that better. Now quit wasting my time and undress me, slave – I have important shit to attend to today.”

You wavered only a second, feeling the words like a flick to the forehead. “Of course, your majes- master. Forgive me.” You blurted with hands quickly jumping forth to help detangle the knots keeping his robes together. 

Small fingers working hurriedly to appease him, setting aside the light leather cuirass upon his dresser once loosening it from his torso – wondering if you should tell him your name, though thinking better of it as he’d opted for simply referring to you as a slave instead of asking. 

You hadn’t been called that in a long while – slave – never by anyone in the kitchen, at least. You’d nearly forgotten it was what you were – a slave – and not just a busy member of the crown’s staff.

You bit your lip with another bow of your head, not wanting the Prince to see your face in its hurt while you undid the ties to the braces on his arms. The castle had become your home rather than a prison over the years, but… with the echo of your title wringing in that very heavy tone of his, along with standing there – bowing your head while undressing him of all fine body armor and robes – you couldn’t suppress the reminder of being of much lesser blood and birth. A fact that – despite never before having bothered you much – somehow seemed to strangle you now.

He’d dragged mud in with his boots – and given he’d not bothered taking them off, you were left to believe he wanted you to do it for him. And though humiliating as it was, you crouched down and began undoing the laces nonetheless – further feeling degraded while caressing the boot.

You pulled it off and repeated the action with the other foot – wondering if he meant you to remove his breeches and tunic as well until he, fortunately for you, lifted the shirt off and pulled the strings to the trousers himself. Leaving the undergarments in a pool on the floor next to you.

You kept your eyes down until he was completely submerged in the water, afraid to see something you weren’t allowed to – before getting up and padding back to the cupboard. You'd never been any lady's or lord's maid before, but you had been trained in the duties – and though heat rose to your cheeks at the thought of those duties, you still made to grab the soap and loofa in shakey hands before kneeling down on the stool next to the tub.

You’d never seen the prince if not from afar atop the castle balcony during speeches by his mother, the Queen – and had only ever heard of his appearance as something twisted and foul – but looking at him with his eyes closed, he really didn’t look as demonic as people had made him out to be. But further thinking about it, scrubbing his chest with soap and water and oil – you realized that none of those people were likely to have seen him up close either.

He looks every bit royal with his strength of face – cutting edges as though carved in marble, with chiseled muscles gleaming in the water and oil.

He was no doubt very handsome, you concluded silently – finally understanding why he was more of an eligible prince than what his attitude would otherwise allow – that, along with the kingdom’s riches, of course.

He sagged forward while you mindlessly amused your findings – though paying attention enough to take the cue – squeezing water onto his back with the sponge before rubbing over the broad flex of muscles, freezing once hearing him let out a heavy moan.

He leaned back again after you were done. Spilling water onto your dress once pulling his arms out to rest on the frame with a sigh – his chin tipped upward, lounging lazily on the back of the tub.

You reached for his face next – now with a silken cloth – stroking it lightly over the few droplets of blood splattered from when he must have cut into those poor runaways after hunting them down with swords and dogs in heel.

You shuddered some at the thought and must have let your eyes linger too long – or at least long enough not to notice him opening his – staring at you silently with eyes jaded in something that seemed to seize you by the throat.

“I’m sorry, ma-” You tried, but he seemed disinterested in it, reaching for you with wet fingers rubbing on the hem of your collar.

“You’re not dressed properly.” He said then, voice lazy yet loud – unimpressed, though not enough to be outright angry.

Gulping at the feel of his large hand so close to your neck, your voice only barely held it together. “I’m sorry, master. They hadn’t the right maid livery in my size, but I’ll have it ready tomo-” You started, hands folded neatly on your lap.

“Take it off.” He interrupted.

You blinked – tensing with your throat closing – sitting there stunned for a moment before mustering an ever so hesitant answer.

“Your majesty?”

“It’s master. Don’t make me tell you again, slave." He growled through grit teeth right at your face after yanking you close by the fabric of your shirt. "And you either dress properly, or you go naked. And right now, it looks like it’ll be the latter. Unless you want to be whipped for poor servitude?”

Your eyes – moon-big now while you shook your head – breathing thin through your nose. “No, master... I’ll undress.”

“Good.” He broke off your collar, dropping you back down onto your seat on the floor before rising with water rushing fast and heavy down along his limbs, dripping onto you as he stepped out with an unfettered splash.

You got up as well, beginning with the buttons on your shirt. Feeling him eye you while he wrapped himself in the towel you’d laid ready for him – his burning gaze leaving you goosefleshed and nearly in tears, bashful as you stepped out of your skirt – naked before him.

You didn’t dare look – even as he stepped toward you. Keeping your head bowed low – breath in shivers while eyeing the hand he reached for you, his fingers stopping just short of touching your bare skin.

“Clean yourself.” He said then, wafting the same hand to the tub he’d just used. Still filled with bubbles of lavender, though no doubt also of his own grime. But you wouldn’t refuse, no matter the degradation – your thoughts still lingering on the former kitchenmaid who’d disappeared not long after becoming the Prince's personal servant.

You stepped in, feeling the warmth close around your legs – still hot enough to prickle. Lowering yourself down, you sat there – swallowed by the bubbles with the loofa in hand, lathering your flesh with the mix of oil, soap, and water – brushing off soot and sweat – leaving you soft-skinned and smooth to the touch, but also riddled with goosebumps that wouldn't lower under the heavy leer the Prince was giving you.

“Get out and come here.” He said a short moment later, and you got out as told – taking slow steps toward the man, with footprints leaving soapy puddles in their wake.

He reached behind you to pull the pin from your worker's bun, letting your hair cascade in flowy wisps down around your shoulders – before brushing them behind you to clear your face and chest.

He’d dried off but didn’t offer you the towel – having dropped it into a wet pile on the floor – now reaching out to feel the smooth gloss of your breasts with brazen digits. Inspecting and assessing while caressing their weight as you stood there with your head still hung down low – silent and shivering.

Soon his hands fell from your chest down to judge your every curve, sliding over slippery slopes until reaching your cunt – stroking two thick fingers through the drippy curls found there. Gliding them between the lips, he circled your clit with his middle digit – tickling you – while dark eyes watched your lip quiver with a power-hungry gleam.

Stepping closer, the small smirk stretched on his face brushed your hairline where you tried bowing your head even lower in embarrassment – with brows tremoring similar to the hands hanging loosely by your sides.

“Aren’t you gonna bleat like a little lamb? Hmm... slave?” He asked then – low in a whisper, blowing gently into the sweat of your hair – cold enough to make you shiver even more. “The slut before you did….” He added with his smirk sharpening – lips stiffening against your skin where he brushed them in halfhearted kisses down your forehead and temple until reaching the shell of your ear. “I had to wring her little neck just to make her stop squealing.”

You sucked your teeth on impulse, jolting just a bit but not enough to make the dire mistake of moving. 

“I can tell you’re smarter. That’s good….” He continued with fingers kept at your cunt – playing your shivering core where you stood planted – dripping wet with bathwater and terrified of moving. “Weak little things like you do better understanding their place.”

Your hands formed loose fists, flinching at your sides as you kept from the urge to wring your thighs shut until he left your sensitivity alone.

“But smart or not, I believe you missed a spot earlier-” Both his hands found your hair instead. “So get down on your knees, slave.” 

One paw cupped the back of your skull in a ponytail while the other laid flat on your scalp, pushing you down until he had you leveled with his throbbing manhood – thick and high-strung – blushed red and strangled with veins – bobbing with might against the ant trail leading up to his navel and looking every bit impatient to be served. 

“Use this pretty head of yours to do better, and maybe I won't have to wring your little neck too.”

You eyed the swaying length with eyes crossing – sucking your lip at its intimidating reach and how it seemed to rise higher than your head – mumbling out a weak. “Yes, master...”

You dropped your jaw and produced your tongue – feeling him keep control of your head in his tightening hold, yanking your hair before you gave the large cock a flat lick – starting at the base of his balls until flicking off at the very tip.

Not too revolted by the mild taste of lavender and vegetable oil, you locked your lips around the head and sucked it in hopes he’d ease his grip.

“Sh-fuuhck- you really do know your place, huh slave?” He mouthed – his head hanging back in a heavy groan – holding your skull in both hands while using them to bob you against his crotch on repeat, lolling his hips inside the wet warm comfort of your mouth a little deeper for each time – only moaning with a laugh once you gave a whine for breath. “Sweet and obedient- just how I like- with a nice wet throat to fuck too….”

He thought of kicking you when you put your small hands against his thighs to brace yourself – but given how softly you held them there without nails and pinches, he decided he’d grant you the tiny mercy – thinking he’d later teach you to keep your hands on your knees when serving him head like a proper slave ought to.

Tipping his head back again, he looked down at you and the pretty curl between your brows and the cute sight of your teary eyes looking back up at him – giving a hiss at how it made his balls tug in excitement.

“Get up-” He growled, pulling you up by your hair and throat until you shoddily stood upright on unsteady feet – lightheadedly looking at him with dazed eyes and a wet pout. “’This tight cunt as loyal to the crown as your mouth, hm?” He asked with a hand smacking the soft place, making you yelp before he made to bury two of his thick fingers inside the taunt space.

You whined out softly at the intrusion – kept steady and close by the fist holding your throat in a choke – before he used the same hand to throw you over the bed – stomach first with a slap to your ass.

“Bow down, slave- and show me some fucking respect. You’re in the presence of royalty, remember?”

He mounted you with a pent-up groan – and a strong fist in your hair, pushing your face down into the mount of pillows you’d dallied with earlier. His knees dipped into the plush next to your hips, locking you beneath him with his spit-slickened meat resting between the soft valley of your ass, sliding between the cheeks impatiently.

Gathering your wrists in his other fist, he kept them crossed at the small of your spine – before pulling back and letting his cockhead fall right to your sweetly wet and welcoming opening – wasting little time in piercing it nice and deep in a direct aim – like an arrow shot straight through a target.

You winced and bucked your hips at the attack – feeling your walls weep and sting – fluttering hot around the size of it.

He leaned across your back – heavy against your shoulders with his mouth at your ear in gritty whispers. “I like docile slave girls like you who know a thing or two about pleasing a man. Good submissive sluts who understand they’re nothing but warm soft meat for men like me to devour.” 

His words groaned in nibbling bites on your earlobe – with a hand kept strict and harsh in yanking your head back for him as he slowly started dragging himself out and stuffing you so fast you couldn’t keep from yelping at the breach. Toes gripping the cold rocky tiles as your legs shook under you – being rocked into harsh and deep by the muscle strength of the beast on top.

“I'm not the first one you’ve bent over for, huh?” He continued with a grin, haughtily chuckling in low breathy condescension. “Probably the first one you’ve had take you in a proper bed, though, hm? And not in a hayloft on whatever dirty farm you grew up on.” 

Your fingernails punched into your palms where he wrung your wrists tight, keeping you pressed flat beneath him while he heedlessly rutted into you like you were nothing but his own snug fist. 

“I bet the whole village had a go seeing how pretty you turned out.” He laughed again, scoffing at it with his tongue tickling your ear. “Did they all fuck you like this? From behind like a farm animal? On all fours with your pretty face moaning in the mud?” Simpering, he sped up as though aroused by his own words.

Twisting your hair tighter and groaning louder against your ear – chasing your deepest parts with balls clapping hard against your clit.

“You’re all fuckin' inbreds- It’s a fucking miracle your filthy parents created something like you- prettier than all the bratty princesses I have to listen to yap all day.” He moaned – now fully drooling against your face, nomming on your ear with heavy breaths.

Fully draping you in his sweaty muscles, you lay gasping beneath the weight – cunt clenching hard around his shaft – making him hiss.

“Ah fuck- It's nice coming home to an obedient slave- so tight and warm- grateful for a royal cock in your poor slave cunt, huh?”

You winced at his pounding, so deep you felt it choke you – making your stomach fold and curl, trying to protect itself from the assault. “Yes- thank you, master- thank you-” You cried while he placed sloppy layers of wet kisses down your temple and cheek in return – until finally pulling off.

“Come here, down on your knees-” Ripping himself to his feet, he pulled you with him by the fist riddled in your hair and pushed you down at the foot end. 

Tugging on his cock in the other hand – quick faps in the slick – he kept you looking up at him while slapping the wet weight in sticky taps against your lips. 

“Open wide, slave- here it comes-” 

Only one more jerk and it all blew in thick white beams shooting across your face – spewing in clusters, hitting you once on your forehead and another over the nose - dripping to your lips into your gaping mouth where he focused on squeezing out the rest – tapping the plush creamy tip against your tongue while panting. 

“Mh-fuck- clean me off and swallow.”

With breaths heavy and slowing, he detangled his hand from your sweaty locks and made to pet your head instead. Gently running his fingers over your hair while watching you obediently kiss and lick up all the spill in tired and slow yet devoted strokes with your tongue until it was all prettily wiped clean.

“Good slave.” The Crown Prince hummed then.

Finally sounding satisfied – still with a lazy hand holding your head where you so faithfully sat at his feet, swallowing his seed, while his satiated cock grew limp in regard.

“Now go wash off while the water’s still warm, and come out and help me get dressed.” He ordered, voice groggily soft in the after high. “I have a full schedule today looking at potential brides… and I want my little farm animal by my side to keep me going insane from boredom.”

BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi

JJK – Sukuna, Gojo, Naoya

HQ – Oikawa, Sakusa

BLLK – Reo

DS – Doma, Muzan, Sanemi

[mothcain]

Nah but let’s talk abt how ppl use disability terms/harmful stereotypes/ derogatory words so casually this disabled pride month (tw ableism below)

The new terms are “sch*zoposting” and “delulu” but shit like this has been around for years and it’s so incredibly frustrating.

Another example is those TikTok POVS about “the weird kid in class” but they are all stereotypes of autistic ppl.

Or the misuse of the word triggered, the misuse of the word OCD, the misuse of gaslighting, of cr*pple, “are you deaf?” “Are you blind?” “Hellen Keller isn’t real.” I could go on and on but I will simply say this.

Disabled people are real people with feelings, emotions and lives. We deserve to use the terms that we need to COMFORTABLY. We deserve to exist without people taking the language used in the context of ourselves and putting it in a negative light.

We deserve to exist.

We deserve happiness.

Check in on your disabled friends.

Don’t assume things about people you don’t know.

[teopatra]

What makes you pretty? Pick a pile/card (PAC)

Teehee happy libra ♎️ season, the prettiest season

Top left: mulatto // bottom left: justa (@justuh-IG)

Top right: crystal westbrooks // bottom right: chan (@trapezoidmouth-IG)

“On October 3rd, he asked me what day it is…”🤭

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Latto🖤🤍 (top left)

🖤keywords: glam, mixed , clean cut, dark feminine, vixen, sports illustrated

🤍I checked on Latto’s chart and her sun is 0° Capricorn and she has a lot of Sagittarius, Capricorn, and Aquarius influence. what makes you pretty off first glance is the size or shape of your bum bum lol it’s very plump and your skin and lips are soft looking. This makes people want to touch you and if you happen to attract people who are coarser with you or [TW] stalker-y then that’s why. The shade of your complexion also makes you pretty also.

🖤 You are probably considered getting work done to some part of your body or you could have already gotten work done; if not, then this is your sign. Whether the work you seek to get done to your body is cosmetic or not, you want to improve your body for your mental or physical health. You like to stay healthy and focus on beauty a lot.

🤍 you have very stern, strong, and structured features like a very nice smile, nice teeth, white teeth, or dimples. You may have a square shaped face or a heart shaped face with a small forehead or widows peak.

🖤 dark hair probably looks best on your but diff hair shades suit you and you can really pull off any color. If you like to wear your hair down it’s very feminine and gives me typical cheerleader trope with flowy or bouncy hair. If you wear your hair up it accentuates your ears, neck, and shoulders

🤍 what makes you even prettier than most not to compare but you’re a chamelon. With the theme of Lotto this is fitting because her stage name USED to be Mulatto but the term is technically derogatory, but the meaning is a mixed race person. Even tho I’ve mentioned multiple or specific races in other piles, n this group the mixing of energies makes you able to pull off multiple aesthetics. You’re definitely ambiguous and most of you are mixed, but not all of you. For those of you who are full breed you probably have a feature that isn’t likened to your race for example if you’re black you may have really fine or straight hair maybe even a very loose curl pattern. I’m even getting some of you are bald maybe you are diagnosed from alopecia (at first I said suffer from alopecia, but I changed it bc although this is a disease that is hard to deal with , I don’t want to use the word suffer bc you are so inspiring and influential to others despite the hardship you endure with this health challenge. Stay strong loves you’re very beautiful.)

🖤 what makes you pretty is your ability to control your emotions and think rationally. Being focused and goal oriented are traits that can make you prettier bc people can see that you take yourself seriously. You are able to make something out of nothing and even n the toughest situations you know what to do. Your resourcefulness makes you pretty bc it shows your wit and survival skills. You’re an innovative person in the way you maneuver thru life and you don’t rely on others to make things happen for you

🤍 what makes you pretty is how sought after you are. A lot of people demand your presence and want to be around you; most finding you to be attractive, but even if they aren’t looking to seek you romantically, a lot of them want to work with you just to have a reason to be around you. In matters of a classroom environment, others may want you to be their partner or study with them. Being around you gives others confidence and makes them feel important bc of how pretty you are. It sounds shallow only to a small minded person bc your beauty is of God’s craft. Your features are sharp yet symmetrical, making you a model of many facets.

🖤 your jaw line makes you pretty which makes me think of mercurial energy like people watch your mouth when you talk or people love your teeth and if you see people looking at your mouth during a conversation that’s why lol don’t feel awkward about it. People hang onto your every word lol you may have an accent and even tho you’re pretty you speak sternly and alot of times you tend to be sarcastic and people may find this intimidating bc they can’t tell if you’re serious or playing. they don’t know when to laugh lmao you make people feel awkward bc you have queen energy that’s like when she says jump I’m supposed to jump but idk how high to jump and I don’t want to look stupid lol. People are not afriad of you bc they feel comfortable in your energy but their afraid of how you may perceive them. People can’t help but compare themselves to you but in a good way, like if you wear a bow in your hair then when someone goes to the mall and sees sowmthing similar to what you wore like that bow they’ll get it just bc it reminds them of you and how pretty it looked when you wore it. You have that “effect”.. idk if I’m supposed to use affect or effect lol

🤍 but that’s another reason why people find you pretty bc even tho you take life seriously you don’t take YOURSELF too seriously. You’re effortlessly pretty like yea you like to dress cute and look put together, but honestly you don’t try too too hard. You’re a very simple girl but you’re about your business. It may make you sad sometimes that you may make jokes but you have dad humor so it goes over a lot of peoples heads lol. You’re especially pretty to people a lot older than you bc of your maturity and wisdom and those a lot younger than you bc you give them cougar energy even tho you’re not that old ( you could be), but to them if they were to have a crush on an “older” (than them) women you would be that gworl.

Xoxo

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Justa 💕 (bottom left)

💕keywords: shapes, coquette, dainty, fairy, girly, (divine) feminine, pink, fresh, spring, winter

💕 pretty Justa is a libra sun and she is Indonesian and black. But what makes you pretty is your charm, wit, and feminine energy. When you’re pretty but not intimidating yet alluring n a way that draws people in bc you’re down to earth it hypnotizes people. You probably are clumsy or may move kind of fast, you’re the type to stubble or drop something when you’re walking out the door but don’t get it twisted you’re ALWAYS prepared. You are a triple threat (song, dance, AND act model as well) and that makes you pretty bc your talents are your hobbies and your favorite things so you shine.

💕 you’re just a girl (no pun intended) and this makes you even prettier bc to men you’re like a damsel in distress and you may or may not realize this but you attract the same gender as well even if those people aren’t normally attracted to their own gender, but it’s something about you like siren energy that gets people lost in your eyes. You have a seductive quality without trying but it’s the way the tone of your voice rises and falls. Your voice probably doesn’t match your face and that makes you pretty too bc it’s a shock factor and makes people hooked to your every word.

💕 you have no problem tapping into your dark feminine energy it’s giving me Xtina and old school 90s video vixens who are just hot for existing. Everyone wants to look like you but they can’t seem to do it quite like you bc of the features you possess esp if you’re mixed with multiple things and if you aren’t I’m hearing it’s your eyes, you probably have cute little eye bags not the scary dark ones lol but the plump ones like a baby that give you an innocent quality. How can you be so innocent, fresh, and young looking, yet sexy and seductive at the same time.

💕 you combat your sexiness by wearing girly girly stuff like coquette theme and you don’t show too much skin for the most part you’re actually modest but you give a little tease like an off the shoulder shirt revealing your collar bone or a deep plunge revealing your cleavage and bust line, or a skirt with a slit or cam micro mini revealing thigh (tbh you prob love short skirts but wear tights or leggings under) . What makes you pretty is that people would take your Instagram pictures to their cosmetologist, esthetician, or surgeon as reference. I’m getting even trans or boys who want to identify as women want to look like you bc you’re the epitome of pretty but not mainstream pretty. You have an exotic look that was probably too sexy for mainstream media, pop culture, and magazines. Some of you either have dark features OR the opposite like striking blonde hair and blue eyes and if not you could potentially look great with the opposite like if you have dark hair you’d look just as pretty with highlights or colored contacts.

💕 it’s almost scary the type of pretty you are bc people can’t help but stare at you to the point it’s rude but the way you look people have never witnessed before. Have you ever seen a gorgeous person n public randomly and it gave you a boost of energy or confidence like wow I’m n the same room as that person we must have sowmthing n common. What also makes you pretty are your mannerisms, if you’re a clutz while you’re rushing out the door, once you get yourself together I’m seeing you being very calm and controlled almost too controlled which is another reason they stare bc they can’t tell if you’re real even tho it’s quite obvious you aren’t a mannequin lol but you aren’t seen on your phone too much n public, when you’re alone you take lots of selfies and that makes you pretty bc of the self archives you have. You may do your own photo shoots n private for your socials and it’s like you have an arsenal. You probably wear a lot of black and or white with accents of pink or blue. You dramatize doll makeup with lash extensions or loads or mascara, lip plumper, and blush to make you seem flushed or embarrassed.

💕the mannerisms you posses that make you pretty are your ability to stand up straight and very still for long periods of time bc most likely you’re very focused on your surroundings taking n the ambience while others are taking you in as well. This gives me high priestess vibes bc you’re able to bask n the moment and be very present and understand the spiritual significance of the moment in time you’re in. People can see this wisdom and innate understanding when they look at you bc they see your gears moving.

💕 you look like a little doll but people don’t feel the urge to possess you or dominate you, men ofc would love to have you like a little girl would love to have a pretty doll on her shelf, but you have strong Yang energy or feminine energy that makes a man want to be balanced with you. You make men straighten up or fix their hair or clothes, you can make the manliest man blush or have sweaty palms and even stumble over his words bc there’s a depth to your eyes yet looking into them is almost like looking into the eyes of a porcelain doll. You’re often very hard to read and this makes you pretty bc nowadays a lot of girls can give off pick me energy and have no mystery to them. You aren’t overly mysterious but there’s more to you that meets the eye and it’s apparent that you’re talented in the arts whether it be that you’re a great vocalist, maybe even a poet or public speaker.

💕 it makes you pretty that you’re very involved whether that be n the community or taking your hobbies serious as in professionally. If you’ve considered going to art or fashion school or moving to a major city that’s known for music or fashion then do that bc it’s a part of your destiny. I’m seeing that wearing half up half down is very pretty on you. Your hair may be very straight and hard to curl I seen you have tried to curl it but it takes lots of products and afterwards your hair just feels heavy and greasy and all you wanna do is wash it and start over with a fresh flowy blowout. If you’re considering dying your natural hair maybe try weave alternatives first like a wig or tape ins. Esp if you’re into theatre and acting skits, don’t change your look too drastically bc with todays resources you can get a nice makeover without it being permanent.

��� I’m skipping around about here n this group but back to community involvement, this makes you pretty bc it shows you’re not selfish like most pretty people are assumed to be. You don’t just have a maternal nature but you also have a leadership quality that allows people to trust you, you’re almost like an angel to people bc not only are you pretty but you’re sweet as molasses. You have a strong personality and this makes you pretty bc it shows that you know what you want and where you’re headed, you’re a one (wo)man band who doesn’t mind involving others along for the ride. You may have not been Regina George popular but you’re popular n the way that everyone knows you and they don’t mind indulging n a quick chat with you every few passings. You’re really pretty in jeans and boots. Esp winter and fall apparel like a winter American girl dollie lol

Xoxo

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Crystal 💙 (top right)

💙 keywords: passionate, resourceful, loved, loving, gentle, flower child, bohemian

💙 she is mixed with black, Native American, Mexican, creole, and some Asian descent. She is a Pisces sun but I mistook her for a cancer. When I looked at her chart she had a LOT of fire energy which I was slightly surprised by because on her social media she doesn’t usually talk or SAY much she’s more of a re-poster.

💙 it’s pretty when you try to tan or go outside in the sun bc for some reason your face may not tan much or stay tan for long but the rest of your body including your neck stays darker than your face

💙 if your hair is big that is bold and makes you stand out even if you’re introverted or shy and you may always wonder why people talk to you when you may not feel mentally prepared to engage in conversation but your hair draws people in if you were ever wondering. The thickness or length of your hair makes people want to get a closer look bc of the contrast from your hair color and pale face. Browns and blondes can look the best on you whereas darker colors like black hair and dark browns can make you looked washed out.

💙 you may not wear a lot of makeup which makes you extremely pretty bc you probably indulge in a lot of skincare or maybe you wear makeup that looks so natural as if you’re not wearing any like a boy beat makeup look that isn’t full coverage but accentuates your natural beauty features, try to only wear mascara, lip gloss and stain, and blush. There’s almost no color match for your skin youd have to mix at least 2 or more shades to get your right skin match bc you have different undertones esp once you go out in the sun. This could be due to you being multiple ethnicities.

💙 your mouth is pretty expect people probably never see your teeth bc don’t smile with them and you could be shy about showing your teeth or being overly expressive. Having too many emotions in public can make you feel embarrassed which is cute to others bc it makes you come off as mysterious. You remind me of tangled how her hair is always in your face, your hair is like a curtain shielding and protecting you from the outside world but ofc that only makes people more curious

💙 I feel like tones of chestnut brown like Ariana grande brown hair tone or auburn and reds suit you, also maybe thinner or natural brows. Try mascara instead of lashes and if you don’t wear either mascara could elevate your natural beauty and maybe even brown eyeliner instead of black. Your hair could be prettier up and off of your shoulders and out of your face either like a messy bun/updo or a pineapple style.

💙 you look pretty when you show your legs or arms and people pay attention to your hands as well they’re very dainty and maternal as if you give good massages or people daydream of you playing n their hair 😆.. try a French manicure or a clear polish and if you don’t do polish do not bite your nails start carrying around a nail file instead and give your nails a square or almond shape. You look pretty n neutrals like browns and beiges. Gold jewelry also accentuates your beauty but necklaces instead of earrings. The type of pretty you are is you’re extremely naturally beautiful but accessories take away from that and it clashes. For the most part if you already don’t do too much n that aspect then this is confirmation.

💙 side note this isn’t about physical feature but it’s makes you more attractive that you aren’t seen around large groups unless it’s for family. I see you probably are a loner who likes to eat at restaurants alone and read or scroll on your phone and you enjoy your own company. This makes you pretty bc it gives off self assurance and that you aren’t caught up in the joneses of clout chasing and trying to be seen amongst the cool crowds, instead you walk alone and people-watch. Although you’re reserved, around the right folks you’re deff goofy and that makes you pretty bc since you’re so quiet for the most part you’re seen having fun giggling at those around you which makes you down to earth and trustworthy. Girl you’re fine asf and you prob like vintage or thrift shopping. I see a very old Hollywood when you dress up but mix and match in your daily dress like a soccer jersey that’s from the little boys section or that you tied n the back with a rubber band and some sports shorts and maybe doc margins, vans, or ballet flats. You’re so girly and cutesy, but dress like a tomboy sometimes even tho you aren’t and people know this bc you’ll carry around a dainty purse and probably rock shades when you’re out bc you have something with your eyes like astigmatism lol it reminds me of how Ariana Grande is always squinting bc she can’t see LOL that makes you pretty tho xoxo

💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟

Chantel💟@trapezoidmouth (bottom right)

💟 keywords: soft, dainty, warm tones, pastels, versatile, round and petite features but feminine and curvy physique, sparkly, sensual

💟 Chan is a Sagittarius sun, I’m not sure her chart details but she has a very curvy yet petite frame and a small shaped face which is typically attributed with the planet mercury.

💟 you could have a way with words and thing things that you say and or the way you say them makes people laugh. You’re witty, yet down to earth so you know how to crack a GOOD joke, even if you’re not trying to. Due to your dry humor, sacrastic tone, social ques, and emotional intelligence you have a personality and intellect that people don’t come across everyday. You’re like a fictional sitcom character with a really good script. From a pretty lady like yourself …

💟 you’re a doll to where people want to dress you. You may not know this but in the traditional old fashioned way that women would be spotted by industry talent agencies bc they wanted to see that particular person in their clothing brand or representing their label is because of look that person had. You are very editorial and a fantasy/traditional Victoria’s Secret vibes to those wanting to dress you but not in a trendy way rather a trendsetting way. For example when new Bratz would have edgy and over the top outfits that you didn’t see everyday and you’re prob the person that experiments with clothing and have always done so by putting together pieces in a cool way which breaks the mold and makes others more comfortable with being quirky in their dressing instead of waiting for mainstream media to give the “ok” with particles looks first. Just as much as people love to see you wear the most high fashion they imagine what you’d look like nude as well.

💟 I see you having a defined back or an arched back or even back dimples. If you have wide hips or love handles this makes you pretty bc it gives the child bearing appearance that makes you seem more maternal. Being more maternal means you’re caring and people can see this in your eyes as well. Your eyes could be intimidating and I feel like you don’t mske a lot of eye contact with people in person. People are not offended by this bc you give off the energy that you’re always busy doing something or too busy for the convo. Most people would find this rude, but with you people are happy to just be in your presence or even be seen within feet or you bc you’re so gorgeous.

💟 if you have an uneven skin tone or discoloration (vitiligo, tan, sun spots, freckles, hyperpigmentation) it’s very pretty and some people may try to hyper focus in on how many hues you have or compare and contrast the different shades of your skin tone. The people who get close enough to you to analyze you (as they always do you may just not notice it) try to inspect small things about you that they could remember later to help them visualize you after you leave bc people crush on you hard . People could notice when you get goosebumps and that turns them on bc that very human nature makes you feel more personified even tho to people you are a fantasy or a fictional character in the flesh

💟 Jessica rabbit, Lola bunny, and Betty boop are all vibes you remind people of due to the pure innocent nature of the feminine needing masculine energy to counterbalance.. men view them as fragile and weak to where they could overtake them or almost pick them up and take them away and even tho you may be dainty or petite, people wouldn’t dare harm you bc they assume that there are lots of strong masculine figures in your life bc your demeanor exudes that. And even if that isn’t the case, there is a masculine ancestor or spirit guide who is fighting for you on the spiritual plane to protect you. Even tho you a divine feminine, your masculine and feminine qualities are balanced.

💟 aside from your face and body frame, your limbs particularly make you pretty, it’s the way they move when you talk or walk, like water. (Tyla) you’re prettiest in clothing that accentuate your body no matter your frame as long as the skin is covered for example a body con, or long sleeve, or a skims type dress, or all black leggings and title neck with long riding boots and cute accessories. Obvi you’re hot no pun intended (from being clothed head to toe LOL jk) in anything you wear but you’re most attractive n that style bc it accentuates your limbs. Particularly your hands are slender and men could imagine what your hand would look like with a wedding ring. If men grab your feet when you’re chatting with your crush on the couch it’s bc you have cute toes. Your teeth are pretty and white, but continue to take care of your gum health and whiten your teeth more to charm men.

💟 long wavy hair is pretty on you if you haven’t tried it I would suggest that in maybe extensions or a wig BUT if you want to do something different try curly and super short and if you’re thinking abo it chopping your hair off then this is a sign, the pixie length with your dainty facial features would eat downnnn. As far as makeup peach tones, browns, and golds will bring out your complexions and undertones in your skin. Also I see wavy hairstyles are pretty on you as well

Xoxo

——————————————————————————

Ps this is a LATE libra ♎️ season post 🤭 oopsie happy Scorpio ♏️ season xoxo 💋

———————————————————Tip Jar 🍪

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Dragon Blood

Chapter 5: Being a bastard is difficult as is. But claiming a dragon, training under Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, and navigating politics is a whole other ordeal.

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Dragonseed (f) reader

Tags: jealousy, possessive Jace, angst, kissing, hickeys, appropriate use of 'dracqrys', more kissing,

TW: Some unwanted touching from a side character,

You had trained under Prince Jace for weeks, pushing yourself to the brink of exhaustion. Despite the bruises, the aching muscles, and the seemingly endless challenges of learning to ride and command your dragon, you remained dedicated.

Jace's approach was rigorous, often harsh, but you could sense the underlying intent to mold you into a warrior. You couldn’t deny the pride you felt when his rare words of praise slipped through the cracks of his otherwise stern demeanor.

"Well done," he assessed when you expertly dismounted your dragon, landing on your feet without losing your balance. Your heart would pick up its beat at the praise.

Every day was a battle to prove your worth, to show that you were deserving of the blood in your veins, of the dragon by your side, of Jace’s attention.

It wasn’t just the training itself; it was the way you listened intently to his every word, your eagerness to please him shining through in how you followed his instructions to the letter. Your dedication was unwavering, and though Jace remained distant, there were moments when his gaze lingered on you just a second too long or when his tone softened, if only for a moment, or he hid his laughter at your frustrated exclamations when something didn't word the way your wanted it to.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The sun was just beginning to hide over the horizon when you and Jace arrived at the stronghold of Lord Robin, a minor but strategically significant nobleman whose loyalty Rhaenyra needed. As you dismounted your dragon, without falling, you might add, you couldn't help but notice the way Lord Robin's eyes followed you with a gaze that made your skin crawl.

Inside the grand hall, the atmosphere was tense. Lord Robin welcomed you both along with your dragons with a patronizing smile that didn’t reach his eyes. The initial pleasantries were exchanged, but you could feel the bad intentions in his tone. As the discussion of terms began, Jace did most of the talking, his tone authoritative, yet measured. He was every bit the prince—commanding, confident, and resolute.

But then, Lord Robin’s smile twisted into something darker. “A fine offer, my prince,” he drawled, his eyes sliding over to you. “But there is one additional term I would request.” His voice lowered, taking on an ugly undertone. “This pretty dragon rider of yours… Quite a rare beauty. I would have her and the dragon join my household, if you will. It would be a small price for my unwavering loyalty and that of my army.”

His words struck you like a blow, and the room seemed to close in around you. The suggestive way his eyes roved over your body made bile rise in your throat. You instinctively moved closer to Jace.

Lord Robin continued, oblivious to the tension he’d created. “It’s a fair trade, is it not? After all, she’s of low birth. A bastard, I hear-"

You noticed Jace stiffen at the derogatory use of the word, his jaw clenching, his 3-day stubble becoming more prominent.

"-The queen need not be troubled by such an arrangement.”

The tension in the room was palpable as the lord's sinister smile widened, his eyes narrowing as he examined you, approaching you closer. "Prince Jacaerys," he began, his tone smooth and calculated. "My offer is simple. I will either join the greens, or you may leave this lovely girl here with me, and I'll join you."

You stiffened as the lord’s hand brushed against your arm, then lower, his touch lingering in a way that made your skin crawl.

But you had a moment to think, logically, if you were handed over to Robin, it would secure a tremendous alliance for Rhaenyra against the greens. As much as the thought disgusted you, you had decided you would do it for Jace. You would do your duty for the Targaryens.

As you contemplated, what you didn't see was the way Jace’s eyes darkened, his fury barely contained as he watched the lord's hand slide further down your body. "Get your hands off her," Jace growled, shocking both of you.

The lord chuckled, amused by the prince’s anger. "Surely, a prince like you has more important matters to—"

Before he could finish, Jace surged forward, shoving the lord away from you with a force that sent him sprawling to the floor. The room fell silent as the lord's smirk dropped from the humiliation.

But before he could react, Jace’s voice rang out, cold and deadly.

"Vermax, Dracarys!"

His dragon responded instantly, flames roaring from its jaws, engulfing the lord. His screams were brief, quickly silenced as the fire consumed him. The scent of charred flesh filled the air, a reminder of the swift and brutal justice meted out by the prince.

You stood frozen, your heart pounding in your chest. The heat of the flames still lingered in the air as you turned to Jace, trembling.

Jace didn’t spare the Lord another glance. His focus was entirely on you now. His hand, still tense from the confrontation, rested briefly on your arm, a grounding touch that sent a shiver down your spine. “We’re leaving,” he ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

You nodded, your heart still racing from the encounter.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your flight back to Dragonstone was tense.

You grasped onto the saddle of your dragon tightly, occasionally glancing towards Jace, riding stoically, against the night wind as his gaze stayed focused on your destination.

When you landed in the dragon pit, rather unsusuccessfully you're embarrassed to say, nearly falling off your dragon from the impact, you looked to Jace for his reaction. Typically, he would give you advice or pointers regarding your technique. Tonight, silence. 

Jace jumped down from Vermax, landing flawlessly on his feet. “Follow me to the training grounds.” He commanded without looking at you and kept on his way. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts, blinking.  Training? At this hour? The entire castle would be asleep.

Regardless, you weren't one to argue with your prince, so you followed Suit, thanking your dragon for bringing you home safe and offering it a small piece of dried meat you had snuck into your gear. The dragon ate contently and followed Vermax to the Cave as you ran to keep up with Jace.

Entering the training grounds you were commanded once again. 

“Discard your riding coat.” 

He had already discarded his own, standing with two wooden staffs one held in each hand and in his loose undershirt, tucked into the waist of his breaches. The top of his was open, revealing the Hard muscle of his chest. 

Obediently, you unbuttoned your coat and removed it, leaving you in the corset you wore to Lord Robin's gathering. The cold air of the stone walls made the hairs on your arms stand up, but no more than his angry gaze.

You gulped, your breathing intensifying. He was angry. And not the usual anger where you felt he could forgive you but really angry. 

He tossed one of the wooden staffs to you, and you barely caught it. “Defend yourself.”

Your eyes widened, but before you could ask, advanced. You backed away from him. The alcohol from the party and your tiredness made your moves less than perfect. “Jace, wha-”

He trust the staff toward you, and you intercepted it with your own, barely having time to back away and add some distance between the two of you.

But Jace was faster- more experienced. In one move he'd knocked the staff out of your hands. 

“In all of our training, I seemed to have missed an important lesson,” he snarled, green eyes boring into yours. “How to defend yourself against disgusting old men who put their hands on you.”

He dropped his staff, grabbed your hands, and held them up above you against the rough wall of the training room. “Break free.”

You were panting, trying to catch your breath.

“That wretch touched you. And you let him.” He snarled.

“Yes I did! So should you have, Jacaerys!" You struggled against him. "You could have made a strategic trade off for your house."

His eyes narrowed in confusion at your words. "What?"

"I’m expendable." You elaborated. "You'd still have my dragon. Just not me. Why didn't you just take the deal—"

"Because you are mine." His eyes blazed with fury.

The words hung between you, heavy with meaning, before his lips crashed down on yours. The kiss was fierce, desperate, and needy. As his lips moved against yours, you felt the weight of everything—his possessiveness, his protectiveness. It was intoxicating, consuming you completely as you melted into him, your body responding to his with a fervor you hadn’t known you possessed. You thought about kissing him for many nights, about him embracing you like this. Finally.

When he finally pulled back, his breath ragged, his eyes bore into yours before dropping to your neck. He lowered his head until his lips touched the skin under your ear, biting you there, before licking the bite.

You gasped. "What are you-"

"Leaving my mark on you." He said. "If you're not going to fight them off. They might as well see you already belong to someone."

He kept sucking and biting your neck as you grew more and more sensitive. Your heart raced, body tensed up, but at the same time, you couldn't help but crave for more. You let out a gasp, unable to believe what was happening. The feeling was indescribable.

You tried to keep still, but your body started involuntarily moving along his touch, your back pressing harder onto the rough stone walls. He bit your neck a little harder, and you cried in pain and pleasure, your mind mixed in disarray. You dreamt about this. About belonging to him.

Jace pulled away to look at the red marks he'd left all over your neck. They would bruise by morning. He couldn't help but grin at the thought. Making his claim on you was only the beginning. He wanted the whole world to know that you belonged to him. Hesitated, he surveyed your face. Your eyes appeared dazed, pupils dilated, lips parted in a soft moan.

•••••••••••••••TBC•••••••••••••••

@alexa554

Tag list:

@burningwitchobject

@deltamoon666

@staarflowerr

@zizouu23

@alessiaparigim

@ericasabe

@jacaeryvardaddy

@dracaryxzs

@rav9n-16

@alwaysdaydreamingoffiction

@legolastheleafyelf

[yinyuedijun]

NIGHT FLOWER: part i — additional end notes

tw: omegaverse, slavery, sexual abuse, racism, gendered violence

hi everyone! if you're here then that means that you read the first chapter of my abomination of an omegaverse fic (thank you and I'm sorry). I understand that slave aventurine fics are very heavily criticised and perceived in a certain way in this fandom because they touch on very sensitive topics. as such, I wanted to explain the intent of this fic in its exploration of these themes, to avoid being misread.

the main reason I chose to make this an omegaverse fic and frame it in the context of slavery is because I wanted to explore how gender-based violence (gbv) intersects with racism, particularly for a character like aventurine (whose canon arc is already couched within ethnic violence and slavery). I did not write these themes for the purpose of eroticising them.

speaking of sexual violence + racism, canon already does actually have some basis for it that may escape EN players. sparkle, during her racist tirade against aventurine, explicitly calls sigonians “交际花” — which can mean “courtesan”, and also doubles as a derogatory term for women who “socialise” to gain wealth/status. so when this fic depicted fetishization of the avgin people, that was partly done out of connection to what is already implied by canon.

one thing that people may find unusual about the interpretation of omegaverse in this fic is that the reader is also subject to gbv as an alpha. while alphas are still alluded to as a privileged, oppressive class here (per omegaverse genre conventions lol), I find it hard to believe that alphas as a class would completely escape gendered violence, especially within fundamentally abusive systems such as slavery (just as how men do not escape gbv in these contexts in real life). I did not create this backstory for the purpose of eroticising these themes; I did it as an exploration of both the genre and real life oppression.

wrt the relationship between aventurine and the mc: while the overall arc for them is going to be a healing and loving one, I want to acknowledge that their sexual relationship is extremely bleak and unhealthy in this chapter. I would not condone a dynamic like this in real life by any means, but in the context of fiction, in the context of this narrative, I really do think their relationship needed to be executed this way.

I shall also say this. while I am not going to eroticize the unhealthy parts of their sexual relationship, I am absolutely going eroticize the hell out of the healthy parts of their sexual relationship 👍👍👍 so aventurine fuckers please be strong… we will someday get to the unrepentant corn in this fic (probably next chapter lol)

[singto-prachaya]

Shitshow

So yesterday I saw a shitshow unfold and it made me both sad and angry. The fact that my two biggest faves have to deal with this and that most likely no on involved will be punished for what they have done. I'm sure not everything that's done yet has been translated but let me post what we got already.

Daou Pittaya was SH'ed on set by and uncle staff member and they made fun of Daou Pittaya being SH'ed. They also done some other stuff.

TW's are on the first tweet and I will put the rest under the cut

On the 1st day of shooting, they post this without telling the name of the series, but we can tell from the comment on the 2nd pic that it's col.

The thing is, the comments on the 3rd picture are super concerning. Even though they didn't say names or mention anyone, the fact that they are talking on the post about the 1st day of shooting is telling.

I will leave it for you to interpret the conversion. They might just talk about themselves or something worse, but it's disgusting either way

Second part is that uncle guy and some other staff have been leaking stuff about the series constantly. From cast members that weren't allowed to be revealed yet to other stuff.

They did delete the pictures with DO and Pond, but they retouched the pic and removed all 3 actors out and posted the retouched pic. With the caption "when the problems occurred, I'm just gonna face it".

TW : homophobic remarks, derogatory terms( F** )

The next day, after they had to take down the photo, the predator posted this on his Facebook. His friend(part of the crew) also raised the middle finger and commented, "Oops, unintentionally raised my finger."

Another person commented derogatory terms on the 2nd picture. I believe that everyone already know who this bitch referring to.

When i say that the word she used is the equivalent of the word "F" or "F***" I mean it*. To be more specific, it's derogatory terms for calling a fem gay man. So, yes, people in the LGBTQIAN+ community can be this Homophobic.

The 3rd pic is the people who laugh about the derogatory terms.

Yesterday, after the SH video came out and everyone was talking about it, (my assumption is that) D did some digging and found the comment on the 2nd pic, then proceeded to give the comment a WOW.

This is the reason why he tweeted, " Homophobic is disgusting. Just stop it. It's 2024 already. " On Twitter.

*The Thai equivalent they used is "tud".

He made another fb post which they above did not translate yet. But Google trans gave me the following: "A sad love triangle. The three of us. The slut is sitting with her face smiling. Haha."

See the original twitter thread here

[des-no9]

Des’ Gith Dictionary

All of these words are created by me (Des) and are derived from existing phrases, words, roots or just pulled from the vibe of the language. 

Most revolve around the githyanki’s meaning of relationships, sex, and love, following my fics centreing around the relationships of Voss and Orpheus. (TW here for mentions of canon githyanki behaviour surrounding pain, raiding, sex and non-con).

NOTE: many of these words are also written with my HC of there being quite a big linguistic drift in their language, beginning when Vlaakith I took power. Many of these words are old and might not be used in modern gith now, but some are. You can read more about my HC about this here - Des' Githyanki language HCs.

You are free to use any of these words any way you like, but if you use them in anything published like a fanfic or meta, please credit me:

twitter: @grabthemhorns tumblr: @des-no9

Sources used linked at the end.

Here is a link to it in a g-doc if you'd prefer and ease of access - Des' Gith Dictionary

Listed Alphabetically (will be updated as I create more)

A

**Adilshar - first among many

The meaning of this word ‘first among many’ has different connotations depending on context, and for some githyanki, depending on creche, and even city in the Astral. It can elude to a title, a formality, something a little more casual. I’ve seen githyanki use it to refer to their favourite lover or companion.

However, primarily, thousands of years ago it was used largely by those in a position of power to those below them as a title of honour and singling them out to a special, almost near equal respect. In a way, it was levelling someone to your worth. One of the highest honours of githyanki. The first among many. I see you. I respect you. 

**NOTE: Adilshar is a canon gith word, but I have expanded/adjusted its meaning. I’ve only included it here because it has had such a personal impactful meaning to me, my githyanki worldbuilding and vocabulary.

B

Bhav - speak; talk; sometimes used when addressing someone 

C

Cha/Ch - bearer/owner/only 

(depends on context and the following word)

Example: Var’cha - star bearer

D

Da - laugh, laughter

G

Gi - student of 

H

Hsha - lie

Hshazi - liar

Htaz’i vo z’varc - literally, death by blood wild

Even for githyanki, this is one of their more unsavoury words. It means, in common vulgar slang, ‘fucked to death’ or ‘fuck and kill’. This is a term githyanki use primarily for their treatment of istiks during raiding, or istik slaves that they keep and then get bored of and dispose. It’s a very derogatory term, but also very common and has lasted from the very early years of the gith, to now. And is even a word that’s heard, and known, from plane, to plane, to plane. Having heard it myself during one of their notorious raids in its exact context from their raiders, it is as haunting and terrifying to hear as you might think.

I

Ir’gi  (ihr - ghi) student of my pain 

An often intimate word used primarily between new lovers. Can also be used derogatorily or affectionately, or playfully, if two people have known each other for a long time. Nowadays, ir’gi is kept private if saying to one above your rank, and only often heard publicly from the person who holds higher rank in whatever kind of relationship they are in. Good luck to you if you wish to say ir’gi to your superior in public is all I’ll say.

Ir’mir’r’tal - the comfort/safety of my pain

A lost word that some say is used still by the githzerai. A version that was taken and adapted to their current language I have heard to me Ir'm'tal which now simply means 'my safety'. My source? My lips and quill are sealed.

Ir’zai (ihr - zoi) - the honour of my pain

A deeply intimate expression used between lovers/mates to express the meaning they hold to one another. Common translation could be ‘I love you’ but a githyanki would say that cheapens it, the expression so lost in soft istik translation. This is an expression heard still in current githyanki language.

K

Kalisk - small one; compact

Kalisk’nal - little creature; little beast

Often kalisk is used colloquially or affectionately, so used with ‘nal’ which can mean creature or beast, turns the phrase into something even endearing. Not something one would usually associate with the githyanki. One might think this could be heard in their creches to their younglings, or in my travels I did once have the pleasure firsthand to see a githyanki meet a cat for the first time and exclaim rather joyfully ‘kalisk’nal!’. 

M

Mar - all; everything

N

Nal - spawn/creature; strange one

P

Pa - no/don't/not

Q

Quith’na - literally weak creature

This word is a slang that roughly translates into, in common, as ‘pussy’. The githyanki have varying and sometimes different genitals to those who speak common so it doesn’t translate directly into what those who speak common recognise it as. And although the githyanki use terms of genitals for insults or colloquial speech, do not recognise calling someone by one of their terms as a description of weakness.

R

Rrav’kil - 

A term of endearment for someone below you in rank. What affection that is, is between the speaker, and the receiver it seemed. This is an old word, and is barely, if at all, used in current gith. It seems to have shifted into ra’stil instead which means ‘ally’ in common. Another language of affection and endearment lost to the githyanki from long ago.

Note: derived from ra’stil - ally (to other gith)

S

Sh’k’nal - hellspawn

Sh’k - hell

T

To/T’ - Has several meanings, depending on context and which word precedes, follows. 

Mostly it means: only/one/this/to/of.

T’lak’var - literally, severance.

A very old word from when they freed themselves from the illithid, severing their control. A lot of it comes poignantly from Mother Gith and her power of severing the Elder Brain’s control which therefore, eventually, granted their freedom. It translates to freedom in common, and for githyanki then, and now, it simply invokes freedom.

Note: taken from T'lak'ma Ghir - Sister in freedom (t’lak meaning freedom, here, where ghir means sister, vhir brother, and stil friend in this context. (Although interesting how stil is in jhe’stil which means ‘superior one’).

I also HC that the githyanki have several different words that translate to freedom, as it is such an important and integral meaning to their people.

T’rac'nal - literal, insane creature/spawn/strange thing 

The common translation of this word is wild or mad beast.  

T’var - literal; only star; one star

An old word that uses var when referring to someone, instead of vah’k. Found in some ancient, forbidden texts that translates, it seems in common, to ‘my one’ or ‘only you’. What we can gather from the context of its use, a declaration of affection, a promise, a title, a threat even, depending on who spoke it, who heard it. Some may say it means I love you. Some may say it’s the githyanki word of marriage. Some say it’s the promise of death. Some may say it’s a feeling, a promise, a bond that anyone other than githyanki will never understand.

Tuj’da - a loud, happy laugh 

Tuj - loud, boisterous, joyful. 

Sometimes this word means free, wild. In the meaning of ‘wild animal’; ‘no boundaries’. 

V

Va (voh) - go/yes/acknowledgement

Vah’k (vahk) - body/person/referring to oneself; 

This word comes from a very ancient gith language where the word var means ‘star’ from their first settling on the Astral Plane, and being new beings on the Sea. Vah’k can also mean ‘star’ in today’s gith, depending on context. You will find both vah’k and var in ancient texts, to now. It seems vah’k was brought into use around the time of the settlement of Tu’narath, but how widespread its use then, and also if they used var prior to vah’k is unknown.

Vah’k gi (vah - ghi) - lover; literally, student of my body/self

There isn’t really a direct word for ‘lover’ in githyanki society as we’d know in common, but this is as close to our understanding of it. Student of my body. It’s used in many ways, for one night trysts, casual partners, to longer term partners within the githyanki. Although some prefer not to use it if they decide to share their bond longer term. 

For those that develop a more long term and serious bond, the word ir’zai, which means ‘honour of my pain’ is often used more.

Note: ir’zai is derived from sha va zai which I HC is a very old and early gith language, mostly now lost or changed over time, that simply means ‘I love you’.

Vak (vohk) - cut; harm

Note: The closeness in the words of vah’k and vak in their language is notable, as for githyanki so often their expressions of self, identity and love are built upon pain.

Vak’nir (vohk - nir)- literally, cut by silver. 

Githyanki are an intense people, and their expressions are no different. ‘Cut by silver’ when translated to common, we would understand it to be ‘you’re beautiful’. But it is most likely closer to ‘you’re exquisite’, or even, to our god fearing races, ‘you are cut by the divine’.

Vak zharni (vohk - zohr - knee) - changed by time 

literally, harmed by memories

A descriptive, and surprisingly, an affectionate word used by the githyanki to describe the change of time, or an event, has had on someone. Be that physical, or emotional.

Sometimes it’s used casually or teasing, when a githyanki returns from the material after a long period back to the Astral, and has therefore aged, and changed, compared to those back on the Astral who have not.

Author note: I made this one especially thinking about Orpheus and Voss and Orpheus seeing Voss for the first time and how this could be a phrase the githyanki have used/maybe still use to describe how much someone’s physically and also emotionally changed after they haven’t seen them for a long time, or from a past event.

Var’cha - literal, star bearer; 

Another very ancient gith word used to describe the skies of the Astral Sea - ‘skies that bear stars’. Sometimes it’s still used to simply describe something that is aesthetically appealing, sentiment in your beauty (invoking a certain emotion and attachment from beauty, however there’s a different word for that, that was used more), or that something simply looks like the Astral Skies.  

Vhayeri - the future/a point in time that hasn't yet happened 

Can be used in a poignant and significant way. As in “we will meet vhayeri”.

Vo - of/by/my (context heavy, and a more modern and colloquial version of to/t’)

Vo mir’tal - (vo - meer - tohl) - literally, my safety

A lost word in most of githyanki society, however there are some communities that have kept it alive, the meaning often reverting to its literal nowadays. Whereas its original meaning seemed to hold the weight of ‘my lover’ or simply ‘mine’. It was said Gith had favoured this term for her lovers, one especially, whoever that had been.

Z

z’var - blood

Z’var’zai - (z - vohr - zoy) - literally, blood honour

This can be used in different meanings such as the literal, to give a blood honour, to pay a price in blood for Vlaakith, your jhe’stil. Or to describe a wound or injury because of an honourable thing a githyanki did for someone (however this seems rare, and used more in the older days of the gith). 

Often it’s translated and used as ‘worth of blood’ or ‘blood beauty’ to describe someone’s war or battle wounds as something another githyanki appreciates in that person, admires, or desires them because of it.

Z’vart’rac (z - vohr - t - rak) - literally, blood insane

This term is more for battle bloodlust, but sometimes spills over to other feelings between gith, gith and istik or other scenarios. 

Z’varc (z - vohrk) - a derivation of the above ‘z’vart’rac’, blood insane.

Blood insane to blood lust, but carnal. If you ask a githyanki what it means in common, they’ll probably say something itense like ‘blood wild’ or ‘bleed me dry, fuck me wet’. Mates and lovers started shortening the original version to this one, and it’s lived on to now heavily through their raiding culture. This is one of the words of the githyanki that is more understood in the feeling, tone, that simple meaning. Trust me on this.

Zhak - bruises

Zharni - memory

Sources used:

Githyanki Vocabulary used in BG3 Gith dictionary of the Forgotten Realms Tir words of Planescape  Mordenkainen’s Tome Of Foes Archive of Vocabulary and Grammar of Tir by bluebeholder on AO3

[listenheresweaty]

more on the Shubble situation

Tw: ableism, terrible writing I didn’t have time to proofread sorry :((

I want to be clear: I will never ever ever EVER support Cc!Wilbur. What he did was abuse, plain and simple. If any of this stuff on Shubble is true, my stance on him won’t change. Abuse is abuse.

So, apparently some people are saying that Shubble has made ableist remarks or something? Does anyone have any sources?

I have noticed a very ableist approach to the Shubble situation in general. People saying stuff like “of course Wilbur would always pick the psychotic characters to roleplay 😝” or “he’s so narcissistic omgg” are EVERYWHERE on twitter/youtube and surprisingly common on tumblr. I don’t think I have to explain how relating people with psychosis or NPD with abuse is ableist. However, as far as I know, this behavior has been from FANS, not from Shubble. It would be cool if she addressed this (since they’ve already told people to stop sending death threats/harassing others), but I understand if she’d want to take her time after… everything.

If SHE has been throwing around terms such as “psychotic” or “narcissistic” in a derogatory manner.. please let me know. I’m currently looking for sources.

****I know that some people were offput by how she criticized Wilbur for “living in filth” and having an “ant infestation” in her original VOD. And yes, shaming someone who likely struggles with mental illness for subpar living conditions is ableist, regardless of who they are—- HOWEVER,,,,,,,, I do not think Shubble was pointing this out to criticize the living conditions, but rather to give her audiences hints as to who her abuser was. Remember, Wilbur was known to have had ant infestations in the past. So I do not consider this sufficient evidence of ableism.

I want to be clear: I will never ever ever EVER support Cc!Wilbur. What he did was abuse, plain and simple. If any of this stuff on Shubble is true, my stance on him won’t change. Abuse is abuse.

[respiratory-kristem]

Kris information!!

It's all under the cut :)

@fukuzawa-armeddaddyagency @justsigma-bsd @currentlyeatingrocks

@fedya-the-rat-god @casinoownersigma @purplelockscreen @reaper-beneath-the-moon

@oscarsgallery @sayuutoria

@discourse-on-decadence @futuremafiabossdazaiosamu @the-caged-jester / @juniper-bunch @sugarthebee

TW for abuse, death, substance addiction, mentions to gore, body disfiguration, s/h, violence etc etc

Misc stuff

Derogatory terms he calls himself:

Failure

Revived Corpse

Weapon

Flesh puppet [with a soul]

Puppet

Addict

Monster

Creature

Demon

Empty doll

A thing to be manipulated

Creature of bloodlust

Frankenstein

Corpse puppet

Favorite things / Likes / Things that’ll win him over:

Robert the Lion, his plush toy

Bread

Cold cuts

Cheese

Chocolate cake

Brownies

My Chemical Romance

Sparkly stickers

Trains

Whiskey, wine and beer

Praise

Bubbles

Knives, machetes etc

Really decorated guns

His Nintendo + Video games in general

Five Nights at Freddy’s

The colors purple, pink and black

Sparkles

Gay shit

Feathers

Coffee

Spicy food

Homemade Indian food

Schnitzel

Bunnies

Cats

Oranges, Mangoes and apples

Hobbies / Interests:

Gaming

Singing (but he never does it in front of anyone)

Mathematics

Drawing

Reading

Writing

Painting

Composing music

Weapon collecting

Gun customization 

Ability details

Tendrils act as extra limbs

Can summon about thirty tendrils at a time

Most of them come from his back, he can summon them from the ground in a 5 feet radius around him as well

When not in use, they can take the form of wings but when he deactivates the ability they all disappear. Injuries sustained remained though.

Favorite family members

Fukuzawa (obviously)

Sigma

Karma

Oscar

Atsushi (BEAST)

Extra information

His top three games to play FNAF, Monopoly and Mariokart!! Mario Party Superstars and Super Mario Wonder are close runner ups

He can cook contrary to popular belief. He can cook palak paneer, schnitzel, ramen and idli sambar very very well. He does often set things on fire in the process but it’s tasty!

He can’t feel high temperature. He has no sense of heat

He does start calling his old boss from the mafia “Boss” or his mother “Mama” when he’s in a bad mental state

He loves turtlenecks an unhealthy amount

He also loves chunky booths and certain chokers

He likes emo / punk aesthetics

He loves to wear dresses or fem clothing and does his makeup sometimes

He has worn a bunny suit on several occasions for fun

He will also wear dresses and bunny suits for his boyfriend too

He’s got quite a bit of money from Katie’s will/inheritance

He owns a house in Sweden

His left eye is extremely weak

Behavior patterns

A absolute sucker for headpats and pets. He doesn’t care about the feeling or motive behind them, he will melt into the touch and slowly grow more attached to the person giving them to him

He loves rewards. Food, clothes, anything. He loves loves loves rewards

Doctors make him spiral. Even seeing a long white coat will send him into a panic, and he hates medical equipment

It’s even worse with needles. He sees a syringe, a needle or anything of the sort and he’ll be sent into a panic attack or a hallucination episode

Weirdly he finds some comfort in basements. Because when he was in the basement in the mafia he was “safe” with his box and plush, he couldn’t be hurt by punishments or Boss

He loves cheese. Katie used to only really manage to sneak scraps of cheese, bread and cold slices of meat to him when Kris was forced to starve as punishment, which led to him to viewing all of those as “safe foods” and finding deep comfort in them

He’s used to being called derogatory terms such as ‘creature’, ‘weapon’, ‘monster’, ‘demon’ etc etc so he often tries to call himself those terms when he thinks he’s done a “bad thing”

Dissection was a punishment in the mafia so when he’s had a really really bad day he will gut/dissect himself to punish himself

He drinks a lot after bad days

He spends time on roofs and throws things off of them to release anger and stress

Easily manipulated because he just needs to be praised and given physical affection. Currently working on it

Has bad trust issues but if someone tells him something that feeds into his own insecurities he will believe it after a little convincing

Behavior patterns (fused)

He will grow attached to a person he views as “Boss” and absorb some of their personality traits

He will also grow attached to anyone who speaks German with him!!

He only really eats human flesh when in this state. Any other type of food makes him nauseous and he can only really stomach raw flesh and blood

He has a permanent smile stuck on his face so he uses his eyes and the glow levels in them to show his emotions. Plus when he’s excited or angry or deeply annoyed more black liquid will drip from his mouth

The liquid dripping from his eyes will always be trickling out. It doesn’t matter how he feels, it’s an eternal flow of neon goop

He can’t really feel any other emotion other than all-consuming destructive anger, intense overwhelming joy, or complete and utter boredom or annoyance.

He’s basically run by his thirst for blood and violence, and his need for death and slaughter

He has really spotty memories when he unfuses, being able to remember some things but not others. These amnesia barriers are really frustrating for him

Does not trust anyone. Will only act on his own impulses + bloodlust and orders from whom he views as “Boss”

He genuinely is a monster. A weapon to be utilized for mass destruction

[waitmyturtles]

Turtles Catches Up With Old GMMTV: TharnType and Gray Areas Edition

[What’s going on here? After joining Tumblr and discovering Thai BLs through KinnPorsche in 2022, I began watching GMMTV’s new offerings -- and realized that I had a lot of history to catch up on, to appreciate the more recent works that I was delving into. From tropes to BL frameworks, what we’re watching now hails from somewhere, and I’m learning about Thai BL's history through what I’m calling the Old GMMTV Challenge (OGMMTVC). Starting with recommendations from @absolutebl on their post regarding how GMMTV is correcting for its mistakes with its shows today, I’ve made an expansive list to get me through a condensed history of essential/classic/significant Thai BLs produced by GMMTV and many other BL studios. My watchlist, pasted below, lists what I’ve watched and what’s upcoming, along with the reviews I’ve written so far. Today, I’ll cover the very controversial TharnType, Asian stereotypes towards queerness, and the very difficult gray areas on how this show has been interpreted by various populations over the last few years.]

TW: homophobic and derogatory ideas and language against the queer community. Critical commentary on TharnType and MAME. This review is NOT for you if you are a TharnType or MAME Big Fan.

(I want to give very special thanks to @so-much-yet-to-learn and @lurkingshan for reviewing previous versions of this post and offering the most insightful feedback I could ask for. Thank you both so much.)

Alright. Deep breaths.

TharnType was a necessary addition to the Old GMMTV watchlist. It was. I had to watch it, for:

- the tremendous IMPACT this show has had on BL culture, along with MAME’s continued influence on the genre;  - how this show affected shipper culture, and the rippling effects it’s had since then vis à vis MewGulf; - how this show continued to define “high heat” and “chemistry” in BL, and -- at least for me, possibly the most interesting point to needle on -- - what fans, ESPECIALLY the majority cishet fandom, are willing to compromise and/or equivocate on in regards to our values towards the queer community regarding what we consume in media, and how safe or unsafe it is for our queer family that this content exists in the first place.

I gotta say some stuff first before I get into this review. This is the worst show I’ve ever watched, in my own opinion. I offer this flag for MAME and TharnType fans in advance, as I get quite critical down below.

I am angry at this show, at MAME, at the BL industry for allowing this show to exist, and I unfortunately hold anger against Tee Bundit, who I know has since made shows, like Lovely Writer, that deeply criticized the BL industry (and I am enjoying his work now in Step By Step, even while I don’t hesitate to criticize it). ANYONE INVOLVED in the making of TharnType needs to hold personal and professional accountability for this show even existing. And I also think that fans need to hold THEMSELVES accountable if they defend it WITHOUT thinking about the long-term social implications of the existence of this show.

I want to also say that I need to check myself, OFTEN, as I write this, because I don’t want to be some fucking loudmouth, self-righteous ally-savior. I don’t. [My AMAZING drama friends, @lurkingshan​ and @bengiyo​, have held me down during this watch. (Friends. Thank you. Good LORD.)]

I want this review to be as fair as possible to the nostalgia of the moment that this show aired; to note that this show gave high heat, which fans clearly demanded, and IS a worthy component of some dramas if it works with the rest of what the show has to offer by way of writing; and to note that many fans saw a chemistry in MewGulf that they hadn’t seen previously. I especially note that there may be survivors of sexual assault who related to certain pieces of this show, particularly through Type’s lens and his own anger.

With that very long introduction, I will note that I’m not going to talk too much about the show details itself. I don’t need to unwind on plot. For me -- FOR ME -- the show’s plot was problematic. 

2019: earlier that year, before TT aired, you had He’s Coming To Me, which was BURIED by GMMTV, and was a TOUR DE FORCE of intricate storytelling and queer revelation. According to this amazing reblog by @so-much-yet-to-learn​ (another longtime BL observer who UTTERLY held me down during my TT watch, friend, I CANNOT THANK YOU ENOUGH FOR THE HOURS you spent me with talking about TT and other issues), shipper fans angry at Ohm and Singto went so far as to SHOW UP TO THE GMMTV BUILDING IN BANGKOK and PROTEST against the split of the KristSingto ship. This is why, in this TT review, I talk about fans needing to take responsibility and accountability for the media we consume. I believe TT exists in part because fans have allowed it to continue to exist in the universe of BL, and many even celebrate TT’s existence -- all while, in my own opinion -- much more compelling art existed before TT (Make It Right, He’s Coming To Me) and certainly after its airing.

In discussion with @absolutebl (yet another drama expert who held me down during my TT watch, THANK YOU, SENSEI), ABL Sensei brings up that, besides a natural tendency to criticize and blame MAME for our needing to have conversations about safety towards queer family, that TT does deserve to be criticized as a standalone piece of content.

I honestly don’t know, Sensei, if I’m mature enough to make that separation, but I will try. MAME herself doesn’t exist in a vacuum: she has an industry, from producers, to showrunners, to actors, to editors, to networks -- that join her in the making of her work. I’ll do my best to separate everything, but.

I noted in my review of Love By Chance that MAME traffics in common Asian stereotypes against the queer community. At the same time, I know that often, we talk about the yaoi origins of BL in Thailand. I think, over time, the explanation of the yaoi origination has been used as a means of explaining WHY certain tropes exist, such as abuse of a partner, bullying, etc. I want to note that while I acknowledge those origins, I also strongly note (as I did in the comments of my LBC review) that yaoi origins are themselves problematic, as created by a majority cishet female artist base, and thus I question the accurate representation of queer themes both in yaoi and in early and/or questionable Thai BL that lean into common stereotypes held by Asian nations. (That being said, I do DEEPLY ACKNOWLEDGE @so-much-yet-to-learn‘s point to me that many in the queer community still consumed this media, as the West was producing next-to-nothing by way of queer love and/or queer perspectives.)

Much of what I saw in LBC and TT -- gang rape, cheating, revenge, derogatory language, hurtful stereotypes of top/bottom and husband/wife -- are repeat, word-for-word stereotypes that I heard from my Asian family growing up. Examples of what I saw by way of problematic stereotypes in TharnType include:

- Tharn repeatedly and casually calling Type “his bitch,” - The use of the F word, repeatedly, by Type, - Type attacking his out classmates, and indirectly attacking his friend, Tum, - The assumption that because Tharn and Tar are gay, that they are promiscuous (even Techno assumes this while leaving Type alone with Tharn early in the series), - Techno himself not calling out Type for his homophobia throughout the series, - The use of gang rape as a means of revenge by Lhong to Tar,

and many more. I will also note that I was incredibly uncomfortable by Lhong’s redemption at the end, as if the story demanded that Lhong’s own actions that drove him to order grievous sexual violence against another man needed to be forgiven. That was a paradigm that seemed apologetic to his actions and did not sit well with me.

As I noted to @bengiyo: us international fans may be lulled to think that Thailand is majority progressive and accepting of the queer community based off of the BLs that we watch. It IS a much more progressive culture in SE Asia in supporting the queer community, and I would assume that gay culture is able to flourish in city centers, as opposed to rural areas. 

But Thailand has NOT legalized same-sex marriage. And I posit that we in the West don’t actually realize that harmful stereotypes against the queer community absolutely still exist and flourish in Thailand, Taiwan, and elsewhere in Asia -- countries that certainly leverage BL as soft power, but nations in which familial or cultural expectations may STILL make ACTUAL coming out and public existence a dangerous or risky proposition. THIS SHIT IS GRAY. BL is fiction -- it is not reality. It is still dangerous -- YES, INCLUDING HERE IN THE STATES -- to be out in very many towns, cities, and communities around the world.

Now. When I went into TT, I understood, AS ASSUMED FACT, that MAME was a sexual assault survivor, who used this style of writing about queerness and queer love to process her own SA experiences. That equivocation gave me the serious jibbles, which I’ll talk about in a second, but I understood it to be the line that most BL observers have made about her work, and/or justification or explanation for her work existing.

I’ve since learned that this is not necessarily fact: that it is not known if MAME is an SA survivor, and that she is notoriously private and has not revealed much, if anything, about her own past.

So, from there, how do I process this? How do I process that it’s FANON -- NOT FACT -- that MAME may or may not write from a survivor’s perspective?

I also note here, thanks to the wonderful @so-much-yet-to-learn​, that many fans who are SA survivors have written in the past about how they related to Type’s anger and/or homophobia after his own assault experience. I also understand that SA survivors have, in the past, had difficulty with strong rejections of TharnType, like the one I have composed here, in reaction to the fear that they cannot tell their own stories of internal anger against their perpetrators and the communities from which their attackers come from.

Thus, I want to note a VERY DIFFICULT PROPOSITION TO WORK THROUGH. What we’re facing here is that there may be people, SA survivors in particular, who related to Type’s homophobia. This is Type’s fictional homophobia -- as written by a very real, assumed-to-be female author. At the same time, I myself very much acknowledge that I still see stereotypes against the queer community, in a very Asian voice that I am familiar with, in MAME’s shows.

Let me tell you why this gives me, personally, the jibbles. Let’s assume that MAME is an SA survivor. As someone trained in the social services, I am not sure that I would advise a potential client to create very public content that is potentially harmful towards a minority community, as a means of their own personal processing. MAME is FAMOUS. Her work is POPULAR. Can we justify the dangers that her work poses -- the stereotypes and assumptions she traffics in against our queer family -- for her own psychological processing?

If I am her therapist, I am guiding her to instead journey map, to meditate, to advise her of HUNDREDS of other therapeutic psychological modalities to process her pain -- all modalities that do not set up a minority community to be stereotyped through very publicly consumed content. 

I posit here -- MY OPINION, FAM -- that MAME has leveraged her own personal bigotry against the queer community in her shows for clout with Asian and international audiences that would not quibble about the harmfulness of the stereotypes that the show portrayed. And she’s gotten away with it for the utter control she has over her own content. AND SHE KNOWS THERE’S AN AUDIENCE FOR IT, so she keeps making what I call bigoted content.

I thought TT was a DANGEROUS show for perpetuating harmful stereotypes about queer family. And I am distraught at the BL industry for seeing dollar signs against that clout and investing in it. 

The equivocating in support of TharnType certainly exists. There are people who view this show with nostalgia, as there still wasn’t the volume of BL content, with heat, in 2019 as we have today. There are people out there who may very well openly relate to Type’s homophobia as a character, and MAME’s homophobia as an author and as a human. Hell, Foei Patara, who we see in everything these days, shared a very anti-LGBTQ+ video on his Instagram just recently.

I DO have to give a nod to nostalgia. I have to try to be fair here. This is the ENTIRE POINT of the OGMMTVC. BL fans in 2019 wanted a thing. High heat, high chemistry. I know that there are fans that are AWARE of these high-level issues of MAME’s work. And yet, there are many that still look back on TharnType with fondness, because it brought something new to the field. 

What I’m suffering from here is the equivocation of MAME’s work by way of analysis against a presumed opinion -- NOT fact -- that MAME is an SA survivor. That seems to open some sort of door to allow us to watch her work, despite the dangers of the stereotypes contained within her work.

The ethics of this. I’m not a strong enough person to go near that equivocation. Because I am not a survivor. I’m an Asian. In MAME’s voice, I hear the stereotypes against the queer community that I grew up with. And that’s where I’m writing this review. I’m hurt and appalled by her proliferating what I term to be dangerous viewpoints against my queer sisters and brothers -- assumptions that I heard growing up in my Indian community.

Fuck. Am I ever glad that I DIDN’T watch this show in 2019. I’m protected by a fortress of past and present works that I can rely on that proves that there are other arenas in which BL is being leveraged for good, for progressive art, for the introduction of ideas that support our queer family, AND that might also offer critical commentary on issues that affect other minority or vulnerable corners of society, à la Moonlight Chicken. 

I haven’t even gotten to the MewArt scandal and the problematic nature of the MewGulf ship. All of those are also very important issues, but I can’t bring myself to get deep about them, because just talking about the show itself is a lot. But Mew Suppasit’s past alleged behavior is certainly problematic, and is worth considering if folks were to think about watching this show.

In any case: I’m never watching another MAME show again, ever. And as a side note, MewGulf didn’t do it for me. At this point in 2019, I feel like we’d seen ships with much better chemistry and even heat, like PerthSaint (a MAME ship, actually), OhmToey, MaxTul, and even OhmSingto and their utterly brilliant acting. @he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle noted in the comments of one of my TT late-night posts that they didn’t see the MewGulf chemistry, and frankly, I didn’t either -- I didn’t see that these guys, as the acted characters of Tharn and Type, bodily and ferally WANTED AND VISCERALLY LOVED each other in fiction, the way that actor pairs like EarthMix, OhmNanon, FirstKhao, and others have since perfected in their work as their respective characters.

This post is about the responsibility that so-called “artists” bear when taking up the mantle of created content about a minority community, as well as the responsibility that we bear, as fans, as the majority cishet female fanbase, to consume this content. MAME and the slices of the BL industry that support her MUST understand that perpetuating stereotypes about a minority community WILL HAVE VISCERAL SOCIAL IMPACTS in REINFORCING THOSE STEREOTYPES, among a majority cishet fanbase and across society, to the danger of the existence of our queer family. 

THIS IS WHY WE NEED MORE QUEER CONTENT BY QUEER FILMMAKERS.

That is the way in which this paradigm will be broken over time. And us in the cishet fanbase MUST STAND READY to support art -- in the words of dear friend @wen-kexing-apologist -- by queer family, for queer family, about queer family. We in the cishet majority bear a responsibility to break the paradigm of dangerous stereotypes, perpetrated by who create content through their own bigotry, either consciously or unconsciously -- or both.

[I finished TharnType in record time. I needed to get it out of my system. And now I’m fully invested in OffGun and having a DELIGHTFUL time with Theory of Love: I AM OBSESSED WITH THIS SUBVERSIVE, MINDBENDING SHOW. Ooooooooooooooooooh. Right up my alley! Hopefully I can muster my usual Monday review for ToL -- let’s see. I still feel somewhat broken by TT, but ToL and OffGun have been SUCH a salve.

Here’s the list as it stands currently. We have two changes! First, thanks to a suggestion by @wen-kexing-apologist and @lurkingshan, I’m adding a non-BL (!!!!) to the list in 3 Will Be Free. I have a number of separate Jojo Tichakorn priorities to achieve before Only Friends airs, and this is a big one; as this is a show from 2019, I want to see where GMMTV was willing to go in pushing queer content in non-BLs, and this is the perfect time to watch it. I’ll still include a review in this space! 

And, per @absolutebl Sensei’s suggestion, I’ve added YYY (2020) to this, to enjoy Cheewin unhinged in what seems to be a disaster of a show -- but an important one for real queer representation (THANK YOU, SENSEI!). I’m excited for chaos. I’m watching it out of chronology with ITSAY and planning it as a mental break. As always, I’ll take any feedback on the list as it stands!

1) Love Sick and Love Sick 2 (2014 and 2015) (review here) 2) Make It Right (2016) (review here) 3) SOTUS (2016-2017) (review here) 4) Make It Right 2 (2017) (review here) 5) Together With Me (2017) (review here) 6) SOTUS S/Our Skyy x SOTUS (2017-2018) (review here) 7) Love By Chance (2018) (review here) 8) Kiss Me Again: PeteKao cuts (2018) (no review) 9) He’s Coming To Me (2019) (review here) 10) Dark Blue Kiss (2019) and Our Skyy x Kiss Me Again (2018) (review here) 11) TharnType (2019)  12) Senior Secret Love: Puppy Honey (BL cuts) (2016 and 2017) (I’m watching this out of order just to get familiar with OffGun before Theory of Love -- will likely not review)  13) Theory of Love (2019) (watching) 14) 3 Will Be Free (2019) (not a BL or an official part of the OGMMTVC watchlist, but an important harbinger of things to come in 2019 and beyond re: Jojo Tichakorn including queer content in non-BLs) 15) Dew the Movie (2019) (not an official part of the OGMMTVC watchlist, but I want to watch this in chronological order with everything else) 16) Until We Meet Again (2019-2020) 17) 2gether (2020) 18) Still 2gether (2020) 19) I Told Sunset About You (2020) 20) YYY (2020, out of chronology) 21) Manner of Death (2020-2021) (not a true BL, but a MaxTul queer/gay romance set within a genre-based show that likely influenced Not Me and KinnPorsche) 22) A Tale of Thousand Stars (2021) (review here) 23) A Tale of Thousand Stars (2021) OGMMTVC Fastest Rewatch Known To Humankind For The Sake Of Rewatching Our Skyy 2 x BBS x ATOTS 24) Lovely Writer (2021) 25) I Promised You the Moon (2021) 26) Not Me (2021-2022) 27) Bad Buddy (2021-2022) (thesis here) 28) Bad Buddy (2021-2022) and Our Skyy 2 x BBS x ATOTS (2023) OGMMTVC Rewatch 29) Secret Crush On You (2022) [watching for Cheewin’s trajectory of studying queer joy from Make It Right (high school), to SCOY (college), to Bed Friend (working adults)] 30) KinnPorsche (2022) (tag here) 31) The Eclipse (2022) (tag here) 32) GAP the Series (2022-2023) (Thailand’s first GL) 33) My School President (2022-2023) and Our Skyy 2 x My School President (2023) 34) Moonlight Chicken (2023) (tag here) 35) Bed Friend (2023) (tag here) (Cheewin’s latest show, depicting a queer joy journey among working adults)]

[faux-ecrivain]

Welcome

Welcome, My Dearest Darlings, please enjoy your stay. This is a placeholder post, tomorrow I shall post something official. There will be rules for this blog, but I’m sure you’re big enough to handle them. Most of my posts will be yandere headcannons, stories, fanfics or blurbs. I can’t promise five star posting, but I can promise yandere that are obsessed with you! Kisses! 💋💋

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[Posting Schedule]

Sunday- 0 to 1 posts

Monday- 1 to 2 posts

Tuesday- 0 to 1 posts

Wednesday- 1-2 posts

Thursday- 1 post

Friday- 0 posts

Saturday- 1 to 2 posts

[This is my schedule, it may change but for the most part I will abide by this schedule.]

[Notice; Requests are open, if you want me to write a story, headcannon or Drabble then send in a request through the ask system.] [You have a high possibility of having your request accepted and then written, but please do not expect to be chosen and remember that I have every right to reject your request.]

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[Mutuals] @idanceuntilidie

@emxzz

@robarrazi

@i0could0think2b

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[Anons] (yes, I will do emoji anons) Anon 1

Anon 2 (Also known as 9 cat anon)

Anon 3

Anon 4 (Also known as najma anon)

Anon 5

Anon 6 (also known as Doll)

Anon 7

Anon 8 (also known as ૮₍ ˶• ༝ •˶ ₎ა anon)

Anon 9

Anon 10

Anon 11 (Henceforth referred to as Banana Bread Anon)

Anon 12 (._. Anon)

Anon 13

Anon 14

Anon 15

Anon 16

Anon 17

Anon 18

————- [Socials] Wattpad (@CuddleBuddy3) Quotev (https://www.quotev.com/ForgetfulFerret) Main Account (@circularcatinspace) ————

Masterlisturl (https://www.tumblr.com/faux-ecrivain/738086533063655424/masterlist?source=share )

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The Rules

Do not spam requests, asks or comments.

I reserve the right to reject any requests that make me uncomfortable.

Do not share any personal information on this account, that means don’t share your name, address or anything similar in a request or comment. 

If you want to request something, or send in an ask, please offer details, such as pronouns, the setting, the year and basic info about your requested yan. (Eg; could you make a yan that hates their darling and only obsesses over them because they look like yan’s ex?)

I will not do smut, I can’t write smut and the most you’ll get is a suggestive tension. 

If you send in a request, ask or make a comment, and it has triggering content, please label it with the symbol TW.

Do not send any asks, requests or make any comments that contain derogatory remarks towards a certain group. (In simple terms; no bigotry, which means prejudices towards a certain group.)

Do not rush me, but do motivate me. (which means I accept compliments, analysis of my works and comments of a similar manner)

That’s all for now, more might be added later, remember rules are subject to change.  —————————————————-

[Fun Facts About Me]

I don’t like making grammatical errors, they are irritating and embarrassing (in my opinion). However, mistakes are part of life and I have to learn to how to move on. That said; if you do see some grammar mistakes please let me no and I’ll try to fix it. (Ugh, it’s embarrassing that I was born, and live in, Mississippi yet I make numerous grammatical errors. I’m so bad, most of the time, at English, it’s hilarious.)

I have a tendency to ramble, over explain and procrastinate. I can also appear quite pushy, this is probably because of some deep seated worry that I haven’t yet uncovered.

I love mysteries, they are my favorite genre and I especially love the femme fatale mysteries or mysteries with a female lead.(IE; Miss. Fisher’s Murder Mysteries, Murder She Wrote and there’s more but my mind is blank right now.)

I have a soft spot for cute fuzzy cats and I like taking photos of scenery that I believe to be beautiful.

Alice in Wonderland is one of my favorite books, it was a childhood favorite and it still is to this day. (The animate movie and the book are my preferred versions of Alice In Wonderland.)

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