#with not practical application irl

[animentality]

I know hunger games is good, I just can't put myself through a sad dark dystopian world where things are sad and dark and suck and everyone hates each other and everyone dies.

Like I could watch the news...

[parameddic]

like if you know sb through the internet where their name is a noun that is not a name and then you meet them irl and you have to spend considerable amount of time with them, like say you live with this person for a while, or whatever. Do you just. "That's my roommate, Chair," or do you have to learn their irl name and use that to be normal

[stupah]

my brain suddenly is so fried this week, nobody come to my doorstep to ask about taking on a new commission or i might just cry on the spot

[fandom-fae]

self portrait <333

[velvetures]

omg I luv ur writing!!! is it possible to get a story thats like, ghost (or whomever) is stretching and training together but there’s alotttt of sexual tension, and ghost ends up hard and they notice it bc of the position they’re in? (Like he’s restraining reader and his bulge is right in their face😭)

Tension

A/N: I went kinda wild with this one... please excuse my filth. :)

Summary: You've always driven Ghost just short of losing his self-control. Some peeping, close combat training, and seeing you do yoga eventually snaps the fine line warding off the Lieutenant.

T/W's: NS/FW 18+ ONLY, fem reader, rough sex, overstimulation, tension, inappropriate horniness, p-in-v sex, unprotected sex/creampie (don't do that IRL), fingering, multiple orgasms, standing missionary?, a hint of rushed consent, big feelings, manhandling ofc, and I don't proofread well.

Ghost had watched your late-night training routine many times. A bit of a jog to get warmed up, some plyometrics on one of the mats, and then some light weights. It would leave you in a glittering sheen of sweat under the dim lights; jewel-encrusted as you’d wait until the last hour of your workout to pull out headphones and start doing yoga.

After looking up some of the things you did, the Lieutenant knew enough about it to understand that it wasn’t just some bullshit thing you felt worked. It held some actual merit on plenty of applicable skills. And fuck did you make it look good. From the simple stuff like laying on your back and just breathing, to the more mind-bending positions like the *Sirsa Padasana -*one of those Ghost needed to know the name of- after watching you stay almost entirely still like that for five minutes. He’d seen a lot of the different ways soldiers practiced not only strengthening their bodies but their minds while training. And the way you spent so much time in yoga practice… he felt like there wasn’t any question as to how you had such control over yourself in the field.

In the beginning, Ghost found himself unable to interrupt your… sessions? for the unfounded reason that his presence huffing and groaning while running or lifting would interrupt whatever silence or isolation you preferred. At least, the silence he assumed you wanted since he never saw you in the gym when the sun was still visible. Instead, he’d just come to the edge of the windows and peek to see if you were still there; Deciding how close you were to finishing up before going back to his quarters and waiting until he heard the sounds of your footsteps walking past his door. But he’d been caught after a while.

And it opened up and entirely different kind of training that Ghost wasn’t prepared for.

You had been more than happy to share the gym with him, almost begging that he join since you never had “company” this late at night. Not that his “company” was much more than his body just being in the same room, but it never failed him to see just how utterly calm you were at the thought of him lingering around you. Most people flinched or shied away, but you never did, and even when you twisted yourself into the most ridiculous looking shapes and put yourself into vulnerable positions, it didn’t effect you at all that he could walk right by you or possibly be watching.

He was always watching.

It made hand-to-hand combat drills more interesting too.

Gaz had been partnered up with you initially, seeing as he could be the most patient and actually give you clear pointers without sounding too harsh. He’d been quite happy with your progress over the span of a few months, and quickly gave Ghost a task that became his most challenging mission to date. Teaching you how to fight without losing his own mind being that fucking close to you for nearly two hours multiple times a week. As if personally viewing your workouts late at night wasn’t bad enough, he actually got to feel just how much the yoga strengthened you when he had to grapple your little body and try to pin you down. Teaching you to block fists without seeing them coming, locking knees with opponents three-times your size, avoiding handcuffs, knives, and other non-projection weapons came with a cost.

Ghost wouldn’t really be focused on your techniques or reaction time nearly as much as he’d be concerned about the way your hips ended up flush with his, or just how easy it was for him to just slip one arm between your thighs and effortlessly manhandle you onto the mats. It was hard keeping a clear head when you just made fighting feel a lot more like aggressive foreplay. Hell, you sounded a lot more like you were being fucked too. Nothing but little grunts and groans when he’d secure one arm behind your back, or little pants as you fought off his punches and forward drives to kick one of your feet out from under you. s

“Don’t let me holding anything in your house I your legs,” He felt himself growling out the order as you fought underneath him to pull your legs free from between his thighs.

“If I pin you, you’re dead.” The words were harsh… and it’s why everyone thought Gaz would be a better fit.

But that hadn’t been enough, and now here he was, half-sweating and half-hard, trying to make sure his cock didn’t brush up against you long enough for you to notice that you were playing more than just one game with him. While your strength didn’t match his own, it was your flexibility that made you competent enough to have even been thought to be put into a spar with him. You could twist yourself up and out of spaces most grown men would never think about, and it did give Ghost a bit more challenge trying to combat how hand-placements knowing you were about as slippery as fucking water. And without attempting a conventional tactic, you’d gotten yourself free of his legs and wrapped back around his back with one leg and an arm pulled in a headlock.

Ghost gave a frustrated sigh, feeling his air supply being hindered but not actually cut off. You’d misjudged his windpipe -probably due to the mask- and tightened down less than an inch away from perfect. It was a good counter move, but not lethal. And that was unacceptable. Hardly any force was needed to pry your arms from around your leg and literally throw you belly-down onto the mat, both arms pulled tight behind your back with his legs pinning yours down securely. You wiggled and jerked against him, ass brushing the base of his ever-present erection, and it forced him to let you go. For nothing more than the safety of his own pride and insurance that you would go another day without your Lieutenant’s perverse thoughts becoming known.

“I thought I had you that time,” You pant, coming up to sit on your knees across from him with a frustrated look pinching your eyebrows. “What did I do wrong?”

He had to give you credit, you were so damn teachable. Always asking questions and stopping in the middle of a fight to expect some kind of explanation instead of just learning through trial and error. Naturally, he’d been partial to ignoring you at first but when you wouldn’t engage after asking a question until he said something, he realized that there was no use. So, he did what he could do best. Teach by example.

Slow… example.

“Come here,” You got back up to your socked feet and walked right up to him, sweat clinging to the tip of your nose and dripping down the side of your neck. He had the insatiable urge to rip his mask up and lick that bead from your collarbone to the pulse point jumping under your skin.

With one hand he turned you around, your shoulders tight to his upper stomach and placed his forearm against your throat in the same way you’d done just a moment ago. It made things hard since his arm hardly fit in the gap to begin with, but he could feel you swallow easily, letting him know he’d found the correct angle.

“Your arm hit off to the side,” He tightened down just a little, feeling your body tense up as he began putting pressure over you. “When it should’ve been straight.” With the smallest adjustment, his left hand palmed the top of your head, holding you still while the bulk of his muscled, right forearm pressed flush against the right side of your throat, and his massive bicep flexing to apply pressure to the other side; forcing a hissing sound from your mouth.

Your little hands came up to grip his arms, not exactly pulling him away or fighting the pressure. Both hands curling around his And while he knew he shouldn’t actively be testing just how long you could go before passing out, Ghost found himself waiting patiently just to see what would happen under the stress. There for a split second, your muscles suddenly went slack and he honestly thought you’d already lost enough oxygen to faint. But when your fingers still pressing against the veins in his arm started slowly moving in a little wave of tapping motions, he was proved wrong.

Right away he remembered seeing you do it before. In the times your yoga practice was a little less than comfortable or you were actively trying to push yourself further than you’d gone before. Something like a little tell, or coping mechanism that allowed you to focus without exerting too much energy to something else outside of the main stimulus. Another little thing you did that Ghost found so much more interesting and downright strange about you. How clever you were doing things differently than everyone else.

“Alright, enough,” He let go and pushed his hand in the gap of your shoulders to put some pace between you.

You stumbled forwards, taking a gasp of breath and turning around to Ghost with a heavy flush settling in your cheeks and a bloodshot tint in the whites of your eyes. You brought a hand up to your neck where a faint outline of his own arm had pressed into you, your fingertips tracing the outline with a little bit of an embarrassed smile on your face.

“Any reason you didn’t fight back?” He questioned, flattening out his tone and looking at you with a pointed glare.

You shrug, looking down at the floor for a moment. “I… was trying to feel it. The pressure I mean, and see if I could resist you.”

Ghost rolled his eyes, trying to keep from barking out a laugh. He’d not even used his actual strength to apply pressure. It was nothing more than the literal bulk of his arm just fit against your throat. Hearing you think otherwise gave the Lieutenant a deep stroke to his ego, even giving his half-hard cock a good wave of stimulation as well. He couldn’t find it in himself to not give you correction though.

“You couldn’t resist it, kid.”

“Excuse me?” The offense you took surprised him. Ghost took a couple steps closer to you, settling his hands on his hips.

“You. Couldn’t. Stop. Me.” He punctuated his words with a flat, and uninterested tone to mask the sudden intrigue he had after actually managing to keep the thundering beat of his heart under control.

You, with your calm demeanor. Patience beyond humanity. Body from his own wet dreams… A better man would’ve known how to stay away from you and ignore the desires to bend you to his own will. A good man would be like Gaz. Train you with only your best interests in mind. Develop your weaknesses without thinking of all the ways he could use them against you in the most twisted and deprived ways. Learn your body and train it to be even more dangerous than it already was. Not spend every second during sparring using it as an opportunity to have you under him or wrapped up in his arms so tight you couldn’t get away.

“Looks like you can’t stop yourself, L.T.,” You answer with a confidence and direct stare directly at his belt.

The remembrance of his cock straining against his pants became much more significant that his own comfort and control in that moment. Halting all thoughts aside from the way your eyes swirled with unspoken questions and plenty of ideas forming that Ghost didn’t nearly have the ability to respond to. A cold rush of panic spread through his body, and he immediately turned his back to you, spitting out some kind of dismissal as soon as her could manage it.

“We’re done today, go get cleaned up.”

Later that day, you’d not seen a single glimpse of Ghost. You’d not really meant anything mean by the mention of his… excitement, while training. It was understandable, seeing as you’d both been quite close and in very vulnerable positions that could easily skew anyones mind past the straight and narrow. You’d be lying if there weren’t times that you thought about the different ways your body could be really manhandled by your Lieutenant. He was undeniably attractive with his gruff voice and often bitter character. It made Ghost who you knew, and while you knew most people wouldn’t understand, you felt comfortable and safe around him.

Even when you felt his erection pressing against you while teaching you how to defend yourself in close combat. That whole ordeal was in the forefront of your mind in such a significant way that even Soap noticed it while you were putting together some dinner for the pair of you. Nothing special, just some pasta and chicken, but you’d nearly boiled over the pot of spaghetti twice now, and the Sergeant wasn’t so oblivious to not notice.

“You good?” He nudged you, taking the spoon from your hand and scooting you out of the way politely as to take over the cooking while you had such a hard time focusing. You’re slow to respond, still a little stuck trying to sort through your own feelings and the attempts to sort through what had happened, if it was your fault, and how in hell you were going to try and make an apology for overstepping bounds.

“Um… I have a question,” You speak up, wrapping your arms around yourself and watching Soap stir the chicken in the skillet.

“If you were sparring with a girl… and you got hard, does that mean you’re into her?”

You felt like a high school girl gossiping with her friends about how to tell if guys were crushing on you. Such a stupid question would’ve gotten you in a lot of trouble if you’d asked anyone other than Soap. Johnny looks over at you, a smirk on his face and his eyes alight with mischief. He turns around and leans against the counter with his lower back resting there causally, glancing around the kitchen and living area to see if anyone was around before answering you.

“Well lass, I can’t be sure of nothin’ more than theory…” He rubs a hand over the short and scratchy stubble growing out on his cheek. “But, if I really liked her, yeah… I’d probably get a little excited doin’ somethin’ like that.”

The topic falls into a somewhat comfortable silence after that; Allowing you to eat you dinner on the couch, stewing over not just the sight of Ghost standing right in front of you, obviously turned on in some way or another as well as Soap’s -unknowing- confirmation. Therefore by the end of your pasta, after a long stint of attempting to read a book, and debating if you’d just fucked up a very important relationship within your squad, you found yourself getting changed into some comfortable clothes and heading back down to the gym.

You didn’t bother warming up with a jog, or any real kind of strength training. You needed some kind of way to focus, and yoga was the only surefire way to shut out any other thoughts. There was just enough dedication required to work through poses correctly, that after less than ten minutes of gentle flow you’d lost a lot of the edge cutting into your peace of mind over Ghost. You’d been working on extending your ability to remain in Kapila pose, and got almost two minutes over your record when you heard the door to the gym snick open, followed by heavy footsteps walking past you towards the weight rack.

It was nearly one in the morning. No one looked for a hard workout this late night other than your Lieutenant, and he was the last person you wanted to face right now. Fuck… he was the whole reason you were pushing your limits right now, nearly reaching into the painful edge of stretches just to force your breathing and mind onto the center of balance and exertion. With your face mere inches away from the ground, sweat drips off your nose onto the mat you’re sitting on and makes a quarter-sized puddle by the time you’ve finally felt like you’ve held to pose long enough. Your flow lead you into Compass pose next, beginning the opposite leg and physically guiding yourself into a position meant for nothing more than to release tension lingering in your body. It takes a while to feel your joints and tendons finally giving up to the stress in your mind, making the hold on your foot behind your head more manageable.

It’s around that time you begin hearing the sounds of squat plates clacking against each other alongside the rich and room-filling sounds of Ghost’s quiet grunts and groans. Resisting the strong desire to imagine what his legs look like, flexing under the weight of the bar. Using massive thighs and such explosive power to push the multiple hundred pounds he’s holding over his shoulders over twenty times for racking the weight. It’s all in the sounds you can’t ignore due to forgetting your headphones. Damning you to an onslaught of delicious sounds that would’ve fell on deaf ears anywhere else on base. Overshadowing the tinges of pain in your body with the commanding nature of the Lieutenant even when he wasn’t seeking it out.

You spent nearly an entire half hour trying not to put too much weight on Ghost’s presence, working at this point just to get through your flow without drawing too much attention to yourself, or giving any reason for Ghost to say anything to you. You’d not prepared anything in the way of an apology, and you couldn’t begin to formulate one with clanking metal and his suggestive sounds filling your ears. Maddening… downright sinful in nature. Enough to make any woman squirm. And fuck were you utterly terrified that you’d chosen to wear such light colored grey leggings, because if you’d move in just the right way, the dampness growing there would be painfully obvious.

In a headstand, choosing it for nothing more than your confidence in it, you’d closed your eyes and started tapping on the mat with your fingers. Picturing your own spine and tying a string to it, using that thin string to draw your vertebrae straight and tall, lengthening your entire body and deepening your breaths. You nearly fell flat on your face when you feel fingers graze the back of your knee and tease over your calf. The wiggle in your concentration stacks your weight over your head and forearms on the floor and pitches you towards the ground.

Right away, an arm wraps around your hips and swipes you off your own control and kept you from falling to the ground. Instead of hitting your mat or the concrete you had your eyes on, you feel nothing short of muscle and stocky build pressed against the entire backside of your body as Ghost holds you upside down not unlike a sack of flour or a sniper rifle. The back of your head hits against his lower leg and you grunt a little, taken by surprise and once again finding yourself at the mercy of Ghost’s strength alone. You’re about to speak up, and are cut short by the Lieutenant literally spinning you right-side up with his free arm, holding you eye-level with him.

“Distracted?” His eyebrow raises above the cut out of his -much thinner- almost athletic mask missing the trademark skull painted on it. His hand palming your ass felt like it was branding the skin under your leggings, leaving you speechless and hanging on nothing more than the sounds of his breaths hissing through the mask.

“You… you spooked me,” You mutter, one hand bracing on his shoulder and the other somewhere on his chest… you couldn’t quite gather enough spacial awareness to connect the dots. “Made me jump is all.”

Ghost chuckled, “Spooked you?” Even his tone was mocking of the ridiculous idea you knew was so full of holes, it wouldn’t hold water. “Touching you s’enough?”

Looking down at your body pressed against his; the direct contrast of your cream colored knit sweater and his tight-fitting black shirt, the embarrassingly long distance between your feet and the floor. Everything about this meeting with Ghost was so far different than when you met on level ground in the sparring room. Then, you both knew the intentions. How to work around each other and how to go about pushing the right buttons. But now… you weren’t even close to feeling like having any power, and you were certain that the Lieutenant could feel it radiating off of you.

“Maybe it is.” Replying back, you feel his fingers dig a little into the flesh of your ass a little harder.

“Maybe its not what I’ve done that’s bothering you… but what you’ve been thinking about,” He challenged you back, looking over at the mat you’d been using. “Why you came here, pushing so hard… Ignoring me.”

All the air in your lungs evacuated when he so accurately saw right through your skull and into the deep recesses of your head. Enough that you were nodding your head just enough for Ghost to let out something of and amused kind of sound. Short of real laugher, but not nearly enough to call it a breath. Either way, there was no hiding now. You admitted it right to his face, looking deep in those dark eyes with a level of intensity you had never seen from him before.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s in your little head?”

You hadn’t the slightest idea where to begin. Should you admit that you were hungry for more about his thoughts on you? Or just admit that you’d been struggling all even with the guilt of enjoying the thought of him lusting over you and having the power to call him out over it? So many ideas popped into your head, spinning it around so quickly that y the time you spit out an answer, you were already in the changing rooms in the back of the gym; Ghost carrying you towards the counter with a mirror. He sat you down on it, slotting his hips between your spread thighs and rubbing those massive hands up your thighs like he was savoring the feeling of your muscles tensing up under his touch.

“C’mon. That was an order, soldier.” He pressed, actually pinching at the creases of your thighs made all the more defined with you sitting. “D’you have somethin’ you want to ask me? About training earlier…”

You gasped softly, twitching when his fingertips traced over the indentions in your thighs marking dimples and other imperfections that you would’ve loved to go unnoticed by his wandering hands curling around your hips and back towards your ass again, sliding you flush against his chest. Forcing you to visualize the heavier rise and fall of his chest, shadows defining the valley between his pecs and the heartbreakingly gorgeous width of his shoulders caging you in. Masterfully, this man was drawing words out of you in such a confident and almost inescapable seduction. Yet the only question you’d been struggling with was answered with nothing more than the soothing voice and teasing touch of a man who had you wrapped around his finger.

“Hmm, no questions?” His head tilted a bit, seeing you so flustered over nothing than a couple little touches.

Enjoying nothing more than how you looked at him so surprised and innocent, despite knowing just how fucking turned on you were after spotting the totally soaked crotch of your leggings after approaching you during your headstand. Unable to resist you any longer, Ghost tipped your chin up a bit to meet his gaze and purposefully softened it. Wanting to ease you into this a little more, humming lowly when your pretty lips curled into a sweet smile. Letting your head rest in his hold with every ounce of trust you showed in the field and one the mats during conditioning.

“I have a question for you. Did you like it…? Seeing me standing there with a hard cock, knowing you were the sole reason for it.” He traced his finger down the bridge of your nose gently.

“How does it make you feel inside, knowing I want to feel every inch of you. Taste your screams of my name and the slick dripping out of your cunt onto those fucking leggings you’re wearing.”

“F-felt… good,” You sputter, face flaring brightly. “Liked it a lot.”

His hands kneading harshly at your ass quickly came up to the high waist of your leggings and tugged, hard. Breaking stitches and even tearing the material on one side as he pulled those skin-tight leggings off your legs; Growling deep in his chest when the sheen of your arousal spread on your skin under the florescent light. You held on to his shoulders, helping him just enough to make sure he didn’t totally ruin your bottoms.

“I knew you did,” He snarled, throwing your pants behind him and giving you a very clear smile from behind his mask. “Such a good solider, too bad she’s a dirty little slut for her Lieutenant’s cock.”

You could help the guttural moan you let out when his fingers dipped between the slick folds of your pussy and so very gently rubbed over your swollen clit. Using his hips to keep your thighs from locking his hand into place. Ghost was as calm and collected as ever, giving you an almost placating look as you squirmed and fought between the desire to back away from the sudden intense stimulation and the desire for more. His other hand held your chin steady, tutting at you like he was disappointed when you bit your lip to try and muffle the sounds of pleasure he was giving you.

“No, you’re not allowed to do that.” He pinched your clit, making you yelp loudly and squeeze your thighs against him until they shook. “You’ll sit there and let me play with you until i’m finished, okay?” Ghost actually nodded your head up and down for you. “That means I hear every fucking sound, because they’re all mine.”

You couldn’t remember how many times you came around Ghost’s fingers before the entire countertop you sat on was pooling with your cum. Feeling it stick to your skin and the wet sensation of his mask dragging over your body as he licked and bit at your skin until the pain melted into such overwhelming ecstasy that you couldn’t hold your upper body of your own strength. You’d slumped your forehead against his chest, blabbering utter nonsense and struggling to manage just how Ghost could expertly play your body to his own desires. With a swollen and exhausted cunt still clenching around his fingers, you were being lifted off the counter and up into Ghost’s arms with the hot and thick head of his dick teasing your dripping hole.

“G-Ghost… can’t take it. Can’t take more,” You groan, clawing at his shoulders and back as he gently rolls his hips just enough to give you a taste of what he was about to stretch you out with.

“Oh yeah you can…” His breathless chuckle made your stomach churn. “You can. And you will, because I need you to come around my dick.”

In one fatal movement, you were speared onto Ghost’s cock down to the base. Crying out his name as your walls spasmed to adjust in time. Adjusting his hold on your body, the flexibility he’d lusted over while watching you worked to his advantage as he held you by your thighs, dropping your pussy back down over him. Releasing the first of many wet, sucking sounds that earned you such a deep moan of your own name that you impossibly tightened around him.

“Thaaatt’s ittt,” His punched-out praise only urged you on, creating deeper and more unavoidable desire to please him. “Such a good fuckin’ slut. Dripping down my balls… fuucck. You’re gonna make me come.”

The idea of Ghost filling you with his hot release poured hot, honeyed feelings of pleasure. You couldn’t believe there was a feeling such as deeply effecting as this. The shocking weakness in which you felt completely absorbed in to the point that you saw past the rough exterior Ghost was presenting, and understood that he wasn’t taking with your physical self, but everything else that you could offer him. Closeness, support, trust beyond what others had given… maybe even love. Sex hadn’t felt like this before. Especially the filthy way Ghost was fucking his cock up into you so deeply your cervix was curving to mold around his tip. But the connection was there and so strong that your heart was burning in your chest.

“Doin’ so good…” He murmured, wet mask brushing against your cheek and fanning damp breaths over your sensitive skin. “God m’gonna keep you right here forever,” He groaned, biting at your cheek through his mask. “My little toy. Let me make you feel good…”

That wetness in your bright eyes as you nodded up at him, whimpering broken pleads and begs for him to do it. To claim you… fill you up over and over. Never spend another day without Ghost either right next to you, or his semen dripping out of you as a reminder that you’ve been possessed by such a powerful and commanding man that would stop at nothing to drive you out of your mind with pleasure. Such intense emotional and physical feelings that sent you careening over the edge of a earth-shattering orgasm that left you quite literally screaming out his name at the top of your lungs, feeling a heavy pressure in your lower stomach break. Clamping down on Ghost’s cock and feeling overwhelming wetness soaking his pelvis and dripping down onto the floor in a gush of splatters.

“Shhiitt!” Ghost shouted out your name, stuffing his cock as deeply inside you as he could.

Feeling jets of his release flooding your pussy and overflowing the tight space until it rolled down your inner thighs in thick pearl rivulets. His hips rocked against yours, stuttering as they grew weak and his cock overstimulating against the texture and tightness. Right away the bruising grip on your ass and thighs loosened, and on unsteady legs Ghost moved you both back towards the counter and reluctantly drew himself out of you with a hiss. Too fucked out to even respond in a noticeable way, you just kept your weakened legs and arms wrapped as tightly around him as you could. Shivering with aftershocks of nearly-fried nerves and overworked muscles.

You were cradled against Ghost’s chest, with both arms protecting your body. His head resting atop yours, listening to your breaths and feeling the way you began to slowly wind down, made that much easier by his fingers trailing up and down your spine and whispered praise scratching an itch deep in your heart and brain. He was taken by you, so small and made that much smaller with nothing but that soft sweater covering your form and the little hands you’d fisted into his shirt. So pretty, and if it wasn’t for seeing your skills as a soldier, he’d think you were as breakable as a hand painted, porcelain teacup.

Duty to protect and provide washed over Ghost. So strongly that even the small chills rising on your legs were distressing him beyond what would’ve felt acceptable. He wanted you warm and feeling safe with him after taking so much for so long that you could hardly hold your own head up. Moving you again to his quarters was his next task, and he very quickly had you gathered up in his arms and the large towel you’d brought to the gym draped over your bottom half so that neither of you would have to fuss with the wet leggings that had been unintentionally soaked by your final orgasm. Ghost didn’t even bother picking them up off the floor since the right side had been ripped apart beyond repair or wearing again. Mentally, he already had plans on replacing them.

But there would be a lot of things that changed sooner than later.

He’d done everything to stay away. Pretend that he didn’t want you deep in his very bones, and ignore how heavy of a struggle it became to deny simple closeness to another human being that meant more than a cooperating operator. You would be nothing less than his sole purpose in working for. Ensuring you had everything you needed and more than you could ever ask for. He’d take nothing you gave for granted, including the total control of your body for him tonight. And he’d be certain that the next time he touched you… he would do it the right way instead of allowing the desperate side of him to try and swallow you whole. You deserved more than a rough and dominating man. And he wasn’t sure how to even go about becoming something he’d long abandoned for no other reason than survival.

But fuck if he’d be damned if he didn’t dedicate the rest of his life trying.

Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated

[galedekarios]

Hi there! This is something I noticed and I wonder if this is true for you and other players:

Gale seems to get bored/go into his idle animation faster than my other companions. I've noticed it's pretty consistent across all my playthroughs--if everyone's standing around (if, for example, IRL me has to get something to drink or see what the cats are destroying), Gale will usually start his practice-spell-casting-gesture fairly quickly, while the other companions take a little bit longer. Even Karlach doesn't start her dancing-in-place animation as quickly as Gale starts his gesturing.

It's obviously not a huge thing, and other players might have different experiences, but I think it's so cute. Maybe Gale figures he needs to make good use of his time if the protag is going to insist on standing in the middle of the forest/the Underdark/a busy Baldur's Gate street for no good reason :D

(Most of the time it's the gesture for me, but on occasion he does touch the Orb mark first ;;;______;;;;).

thank you for your message! i was wondering about this too ever since i made my gifset trying to record gale practising (presumably) the somatic components of a spell.

i've noticed this too and i think it very much suits his character! i'm not sure if it was intentional, but...

i do think gale's mind is always winding and weaving (no pun intended!) and going a hundred miles per hour at any given time, so it makes sense that he would try to use any sort of downtime in a productive manner or keep himself occupied.

it suits gale, who tara calls her 'clever friend' who 'never leaves a knot knotted':

Tara the Tressym: My clever friend never leaves a knot knotted.

gale, who, if you leave him behind, begins to study the rune he was pulled from:

Gale: It drew me in. But how? - Gale: Safer to be out here than trapped in there. But if I could remain in there safely... - Gale: Could the effect be reproduced? Perhaps with the right application of Weave... - Gale: I would think Netherese, but that's impossible. And yet...

gale, who talks in his sleep:

Lae'zel: Gale, I've heard you talking in your sleep. Your mate needs better rest for our journey. Gale: And deprive them of the pleasure of hearing my nocturnal postulations? I'd never be so cruel. Gale: The mind absorbs much while we believe ourselves dormant. To lie beside Gale of Waterdeep is positively educational.

it's one of those things that just make sense for him. 🖤

[isawken]

how i got invited to a council meeting for the world's oldest professional clown organization: a reflection on the value of weird niche interests and shooting your shot

it is 2 PM EST. i work from home- i've taken my work laptop to set up in the bedroom along with my personal laptop. i shouldn't be away for more than 30 minutes. call it a late lunch. i've made sure my Zoom icon has been changed from the little gif of a monkey from the video game Ape Escape wiping his ass with a towel over and over again to the far more respectable default icon. i've put my full first name as the username in place of "snart". i am very, very nervous. 2:01 PM. i always wait exactly one minute before hopping into a meeting i'm nervous about. i hate being the first one in a call. the burden of initiating casual conversation is one i particularly hate.

i enter the zoom room key and passcode and enter the meeting.

=================================

those who know me irl or follow me on twitter know that i'm like, really into clowns. i could (and probably will one day) write an entirely different thinkpiece on the reasons why this happened to me. i have not always been Clown Guy. i never hated them, but never loved them, until around 2018 when i started really getting into jesters. the interest in clowns was a lateral move at that point. this makes a lot more sense in my head than in real life, but whatever. you get the point.

i started doing clown make up, getting clown supplies, doing clown photoshoots for fun. a neat little creative outlet. then, as with all of my fleeting interests, i started consuming everything i could about the history of them. and my fleeting interest became a full blown fascination.

one of the more interesting things i learned about was clown eggs. short version: in the 1940s a dude named Stan Bult decided to make a clown organization. and as part of this clown organization he integrated a fun hobby- painting and adorning chicken eggs with the visages of famous clowns, and later, members of the organization itself. these eggs were a staple of the org until Stan's death in the 60s. The practice fell to the wayside for a couple decades, then was rebirthed in the 1980s, with a new group of chairclowns and a new artist. it is once again a staple of the organization, and one i am enamored with. the crazy part about it all is, Stan Bult was a chemist. not even a clown.

=================================

i am on the phone with Dee Dee, the lead chair of the organization. on my application i mentioned extensive social media usage, and she emailed me a few days after approving my application one evening asking if i'd be interested in helping out the organization with their social media presence. i'd be a fucking dunce to say no. she tells me about the current person in charge of their various social medias. she likes her, she says, pausing to add a tone to the next part of her sentence. it's the kind of tone you use when you are expressing dissatisfaction to someone and you're confident they'll commiserate your feeling. "but, she's not even a clown."

i give a very diplomatic (noncommittal) "ah, yeah."

=================================

it is a tuesday summer night and i am drunk, and i am filling out an application for a clown egg before i lose my nerve. i already have my signature make up. i'm actually really proud of it. red lips, blue nose, yellow eyes. red yellow and blue freckles. a red circle, blue square, and yellow triangle pattern above the eyebrows and under the eyes. red yellow and blue checkered button down with cowboy fringe on the chest. a tan stetson given to me by my grandfather. a gaudy clown face bolo tie. i did a pretty good job if i do say so myself.

i send the photos along with the application, 100% confident i will get rebuffed because i'm not a "real" clown. i do get rebuffed, but not in the way i expect. the person fielding applications, Dee Dee, instead gently asks me to submit a membership application first, then she'll be able to send in the order for the clown egg. she says my face design is very cute. i fill out the application and send it back in immediately.

a few days later and i'm sent an email saying my membership fee payment has been processed, and welcome to Clowns International! attached is a PDF of a hilariously simply-edited membership card. it's a sharp, bright red. it features my full name, my clown name, my signature, and my membership number. i'm clown number 22011. text in italics at the bottom of the card says "Members in Good Standing must show cards on request for all CI meetings."

i really hope i can go to one of those, i think to myself, giddy at this eyesore of a rectangle and what it means to me.

=================================

i enter the zoom meeting.

"Oh, there she is!"

i am greeted by a short row of older men and women. i am guessing the youngest aside from me is probably in their 40s. the oldest looks like they could be 80. Dee Dee starts right in.

"So that's what you look like under your makeup! Everybody, this is who I was telling you about, Ken____. She's a bit of a new clown, and she's agreed to help us out with some of our social media."

Dee Dee references a "blog" that i run. i am immensely thankful that she never asked to see my twitter account, and no one else on the call asks either. they just take my expertise on faith. well, faith, and the spiel i give them about how consistent posting will result in increased engagement, and how best to go about engendering social media growth. i throw out plans for posts- history threads, cute memes or art spotlights, posts highlighting members' eggs. the older ones just nod along, but one in particular is very enthusiastic. he tells me he had a tiktok recently get a million views of him and a clown buddy chasing each other in tiny cop cars. i nod along.

the tiktok guy and the guy managing the facebook argue for 30 minutes about whether or not to focus more on social media presence or maintaining the current membership. they go in circles until finally moving on to the horse hospital event (still not sure what that's about) and annual Grimaldi funeral service (i'll make a different post about that one day). then the newsletter. then some other random updates i zone out on. it has been almost 2 hours. i have my work laptop on the bed next to me and am covertly answering emails while the clowns bicker.

turns out even british clowns are exactly as grumpy as regular british people. who knew.

=================================

i am very good at making plans. i love nothing more than making a document detailing actions and ideas in a concise, clear manner. i make a social media treatment, detailing plans for potential posts and even fully written out history blurbs with pictures that can be adapted into threads or instagram posts. i send that out. Dee Dee asks me to follow up with the facebook guy and the twitter/insta girl. the facebook guy just straight up gives me access to twitter. the twitter/insta girl does not respond to any emails.

i've been posting on their twitter account for 6 months now. it's right here if you want to take a look at it. not to brag (lol jk this is definitely a brag), but i've just about doubled their followers in that time. the instagram girl still hasn't given me any log in info, despite my gentle offers to "help" with insta posts. i also notice it has not posted in about 2 years now. i am an interloper, a newcomer. she is the daughter of one of the chairclowns. i am sitting on this information for now. the last thing i want is to instigate a clown war with an old british person. i'd lose for sure.

=================================

i'm not a "real" clown. i don't do parties, i don't work at a circus. i don't think i ever will (i'm only 28 though, who knows what the future holds). all i do is clown around on twitter for people's amusement. but over the last two years i have gained so much understanding and respect for the profession, and all i want to do is share that. i have another board meeting with them soon. i am very curious how this one is going to go. Dee Dee has mentioned a few times how she wants to meet me in person one day. this is all kind of a charade- i am waiting for the day when they realize i'm not an active working clown in the traditional sense, and they kick my civilian ass out. i really hope i get a clown egg before that. it's been about 9 months and no word though, so my hopes aren't exactly high. i go back and forth on whether or not i deserve one. and then i remember that the founder of the whole organization was never a clown. he just really liked them. and it's lasted about 80 years now.

this whole clown thing has been one of the most positive forces in my life over the last few years. i'm sure most of you know how fun it is, to dive headfirst into a new obsession. it's fun to share it with people- most are immediately at least interested if not just bemused when i bring up clown stuff. and it gave me the confidence to apply to a fucking clown organization and get a membership card and become one of their social media managers and holy shit how fucking insane is that??? even if this blows up, even if i get kicked out and never get my egg and it all burns to the ground, that is something i can keep in my heart forever. that is a story i can whip out at any party for the rest of my life, and get chuckles. i may not be a real clown, but i'm definitely addicted to getting chuckles like one.

anyways, the moral of the story here is to apply to whatever your version of a world renown clown organization is. get drunk on a tuesday night and shoot your shot. and even if it doesn't go great you can always make a fun story out of it. or a really, really long post on tumblr.

[pallastrology]

my favourite astro + witchcraft blogs

since we're in the season of cheer, i thought it would be nice to express my love and gratitude for some of my favourite blogs here on tumblr 🧡🐿️

@neptuneandwine - my best friend, who i actually met here on tumblr years ago. she's a truly brilliant person, the most talented tarot reader i've seen and a skilled astrologer too.

@ms-m-astrologer - i absolutely love the way M writes about transits, i always look forward to the monthly update posts and adjust my plans accordingly. also introduced me to the @unhelpfultarot blog, which is another of my favourites as it's just hilarious.

@seafoamreadings - beautifully written transit posts, i'll be subbing to their patreon when i'm able to for more of their work, and i love their more personal insights into how the transits affect us IRL too.

@mercurytrinemoon - i've followed for years and always love to read their replies to asks and insights. i also recently bought their personalised 2024 almanac and am so looking forward to it!

@elysiansparadise - such an aesthetically pleasing blog, and i love the longform posts about various placements. i always feel inspired after reading through elysian's blog :-)

@kayleightarot a really lovely tarot blog, i always look forward to their daily readings and i'm finding it helpful to look at the practical application of tarot too!

feel free to reblog with your favourite witchy blogs, let's share some love this december :-) much love to you all as always xo

[befemininenow]

Regarding the Reddit situation

The current state of Reddit is not only a mess, but difficult to comprehend if not aware. But as a user of that site who is impacted by their change, it’s no surprise as to why they deserve it. For those that don’t know, Reddit is currently down due to a massive protest regarding their API changes. An API, or application programming interface, allows the ability for apps to interact with a site’s (in this case, Reddit) data and tools to customize and moderate a page to their liking. This includes the ability to weed out unnecessary content such as spam, hate speech, and anything out of topic through the use of automated bots. Subreddits, forums that operate under the Reddit platform, are very different from a Tumblr blog in that it allows users to interact with others and lets them post content for “karma”, brownie points that determine your reputation and accepted opinions with like-minded people. For years, Reddit’s API was free to use and the use of third-party apps made it a breeze for moderators to control what went through their subreddit.

Well, that is about to change around the end of June, first of July, thanks in no part due to Reddit’s greed and ignorance of overcharging the use for their API, as well as eliminating the use of third-party apps to interact with the Reddit API. These tools are what allow Reddit mods and automated bots to give you the best experience at your favorite subreddit at the palm of your hands. But with these charges going on hand, that will no longer happen. But the worst part about it is that most, if not all, of these mods are doing this work for free! There is really no reason as to why users and mods should pay Reddit to use a network when the pop-ups and ads already fund the company. It’s already difficult to administer a page. I can only imagine the load of work a mod has to do on a forum while juggling with their own lives. It’s honestly unsustainable.

As a result, Redditors decided to protest these changes by becoming inactive for at least 48 hours. The amount of subreddits going dark has only been increasing ever since and some subreddits are planning to go on an indefinite hiatus. As for the active subreddits, they are also doing their own form of protest, such as posting blank pictures. It’s so bad, that the site has crashed several times and is practically unusable. Many of these subreddits aren’t just small and inactive either. In fact, the most notable subreddits such as r/news have as much as millions of members while other subreddits who have a lot of interaction are also notable members of the protest. As of June 13 of 2023, the site is still feeling the effect. Reddit is imploding itself in a way that’s as bad as Twitter and even Tumblr.

What does this have to do with trans and LGBTQ+? Well, a lot. It’s thanks to these subreddits that played a part on allowing a new generation of people to interact with other LGBTQ+ members and share topics and answers to situations we face IRL. It’s also as to why it allowed us to share common hobbies and interests that ended up becoming relatable and eventually, synonymous with modern trans culture. Through memes, allegories, cute drawings, cracked eggs, Blahaj, and fangirling about spinny skirts and e-girl outfits, these are just some small, yet wholesome traits that are noticeable about the new generation of trans and questioning people. It’s also thanks to these forums and amazing people behind them that allowed yours truly to accept her identity and commence transition into girlhood. To say these subreddits were a safe space for transgender people is an understatement. It was our way of showing the internet world that we exist.

But I won’t sugarcoat this post that much. Transgender people still face struggles such as violent and hateful threats online and IRL, misgendering from TERFs and bigots, homelessness due to cost of living and bigoted landlords and/or neighbors, lack of affordable and effective health care, and most important of them all, emotional support. With Reddit’s threat of overcharging for API use, many of these subreddits that served as a support center and safe space for LGBTQ+ and trans people are in danger of ceasing to exist. One of those subreddits have unfortunately bit the dust; that subreddit was called r/traaaaaaannnnnnnnnns, a subreddit full of relatable memes and posts that trans and non-binary people could relate. As someone who is on the cusp of the new generation, it was an amazing place to like and comment on posts that felt so relatable. While I never had the chance to upload anything there, like trans headcannons or a question using Menhera-chan’s art, I felt like a part of the community, even if it was just upvoting posts and comments. The community and vibe was influential enough for me to shape my trans identity and share a few of those traits through my posts. It was, for the first time, a safe space for a closeted trans girl with none of the degrading “feminization” that I encountered at other sites for a great portion of my life.

Why did that subreddit close? To paraphrase the dilemma, there was only one mod administering a growing forum close to 400k members! That mod used helpful third-party apps to mod the growing and very active page. In a time where trans people are targets of hate and erasure, it was inevitable that a subreddit like r/traaaaaaannnnnnnnnns was going to be inundated with spam and explicit, offensive content. As a result of the exhaustive work, the remaining moderator had no choice, but to close page and continue with a spiritual successor. r/traaaaaaannnnnnnnnns isn’t the only subreddit affected by this change. Several subreddits dedicated to non-proftis and news were affected as well and the active users and contributors to those subreddits were dependent on third-party apps that made the UI more useful. One can argue it’s better to adapt to changes rather than lose an entire page.

The main problem isn’t about creating everything from scratch again. The main problem is that Reddit refuses to acknowledge their mistake and decides to continue with their destructive decision. We’ve seen these bad business choices over and over again. From YouTube eliminating the Dislike button, to Twitter charging for Blue Checks, and, yes, even Tumblr with their ineffective NFSW filters, these sites are more willing to put up with irreplaceable damage than they are to admit they’re wrong.

The idea is not for Reddit to shake off this protest like it won’t happen again. It will happen again, and perhaps, indefinite, should they make their changes take effect by July 1. If 48 hours is all it takes to damage a site, then a longer period will be enough to effectively kill them. Although I am comfortable using Tumblr, I can’t deny that Reddit has a vibe different from this site that will soon be gone. As someone who loves social media, but hates the changes that negatively impact the user, I will give my two cents:

Reddit, your changes aren’t just hurting several groups and vibrant communities. You are also proving the world what could happen when lack of decision making, incompetence, and bad practices can potentially destroy a company. As much as the communities I love will be impacted by this move, I refuse to comply with the greed that will benefit only a select few while affecting the rest of the community that helped build your empire at no monetary cost. Should you forward your business choice, I will move to another alternative that appreciates the work that administrators, mods, and users contribute to the growth of a site. May your bad decision be welcome with unsurprising results.

Sincerely, anonymous Reddit user.*

*Note: my blog name is not the same as my Reddit name.

[teatitty]

Dandelion, in book and game canon, is noted for being a master of the seven liberal arts. For those that don't know, the liberal arts irl are: Grammar, Logic, Rhetoric, Arithmetic, Astronomy, Music and Geometry; so lets briefly breakdown what each one was back in the medieval and middle ages [since those eras are the basis for the series] and see exactly how intellectually smart Dandelion was

First we have the Trivium, which were the three basic tools of reasoning and expression and were the gateways into much higher fields of learning

Grammar: The study of written works and forms of writing, usually through memorisation and reading of classical texts. Learning and diagraming the parts of speech became common, and other language-related knowledge like spelling and vocabulary have grown out of grammar studies

Logic: The easiest way to describe this is basically philosophy - there's a lot of "discussions and investigations into truth and opinions" which would be why Dandelion has so many Thoughts about things

Rhetoric: Closely related to Logic studies, this one was about learning how to express your opinions and make clear concise arguments

Next we have the Quadrivium, which are all about maths and the traditional arts we know of

Arithmetic: The basic mathematics such as addition, subtraction, division, multiplication etc as well as mathematic notation

Music: Though less widespread now, back in the day music studies were incredibly important for students to understand and appreciate creation by learning about the various forms and instruments of music - in short, Dandelion would be able to play far more than just the lute if he wanted to

Geometry: This one would have covered everything from architecture to engineering to surveying, all of which are now their own separate disciplines of study. So, in ye olde times, Geometry used to be far more practical in application. This is why I like to joke that Dandelion is like if Shakespeare and Leonardo da Vinci were fused into one person

Astronomy: The contemplation of the heavens and humankind’s place in them received more emphasis in an era where less was known and more was imagined than today. Astronomy was at first considered essential for fields such as navigation and determining dates, but grew to include more advanced mathematics and physics studies

Plato is probably the most famous of real life masters of these arts to give an example of how impactful and important they are in our history, so Dandelion being a master of all 7 and being qualified to teach at the university itself is no small feat by any means. Intellectually speaking, Dandelion is easily one of the smartest characters in the books - but he's also impulsive, curious to a fault, tempermental and often doesn't follow his own common sense, which is why he has Geralt and the Hansa to look out for him lol

[sirfrancisvarney]

It's so rare for me to watch a show as it's airing; I'd forgotten how frustrating it can be waiting for the next episode. I can't even look up spoilers because no one knows any more than I do. True Detective is going to drive me up the walls before it's done, and I can't even talk about it irl b/c no one I know is watching it, so I'll have to ramble about it on tumblr.

So I'm guessing Clark was trying to resurrect Annie somehow. I don't know if any of the stuff in the trailer has any significance to indigenous practices, but it looked like something a madman might create to preserve someone's spirit. And Clark took Annie's tongue in order to have her DNA so he could clone her, maybe. I don't know why he'd pick the tongue; maybe because it was easier to cut off than a finger? Not that I think his plan would work; nothing in the scientists' backgrounds or what we've seen of the facilities would suggest they were capable of cloning a person.

Speaking of the scientists, I hope the show will go more in depth on their work. On the other hand, they're entering a field I know something about, and I already have questions. Why would it be impossible to sequence the DNA of the microorganisms in the permafrost? People already do that. Why would the methods of extracting it shear the chromosomes beyond their ability to sequence them? I would think the bigger problem would be getting enough sample to sequence in the first place. And with ancient DNA (in fossils, for example) the issue is that it also gets incredibly degraded over time. What's so special about where and what they're drilling? Is this even what they're actually doing? Do they actually know this microorganism exists, or are they still looking for it? People on reddit were making such a big deal about the microorganisms being responsible for the weird state of Annie's tongue (the unusual cellular damage) or the one scientist surviving, but to be honest, "this could unlock the key to immortality" gets bandied about a lot with certain scientific topics. Studies on cellular immortality, longevity, metabolism--people get all excited about this stuff, but the truth is, it's hard to translate the results in jellyfish, worms, bacteria, etc. into something directly applicable to humans. At best, Tsalal or the mine accidentally revived a new pandemic-causing bacteria. More likely, some unknown conflict between the mine and the scientists caused their deaths.

[lunawings]

Today was a big day for me.

After finally starting treatment earlier this month for the health problems I'd alluded to before, I've been feeling a lot better.

So much better in fact, that I submitted a very last minute somewhat spontaneous application to the Idol Showcase at Another Anime Con this weekend and... I was accepted!

The song I applied with was Analog Heart, my favorite Rina Tennoji song that I've been practicing on and off for a long time. (Pretty much ever since I decided I wanted to try IRL idol activities.) And I was really, really excited to finally perform it.

But, due to circumstances at my work impacting my schedule the week before, I had to go an entire week without practicing before the event and I found myself unusually nervous. Then, this was exacerbated by two other factors. First of all, I was scheduled to perform very late in the event for some reason (perhaps my bad for applying late) so I had to sit and watch so many wonderful, wonderful performers before my turn (including another Rina who did SO GOOODDDD). Meanwhile, this was all taking place outside in a tent.

In the POURING rain.

As I felt the occasional droplet on my head and watched the wall of the tent cave in and split open beside me I felt increasingly concerned that the entire roof would just burst open at some point to inundate us all. It did not, but one of the biggest leaks happened to be right on the stage, so when I got up there and saw that puddle it was like.... uurugughghg.

In the end I got through my performance just fine and everyone cheered for me! The crowd was so kind!

But

I felt my movements were a lot more jerky and rushed than they should have been.

Which sucks considering I was SO happy with my audition video. I felt like I'd finally captured the fluid, confident movement I'd been striving for, for so long and I was SO. PROUD........

I shouldn't be this disappointed in myself but unfortunately I am.

*sigh*

Thing is, this was supposed to be my last solo performance as a Love Live character. I was hoping that, after this performance, I would feel fulfilled enough to close that chapter and move on to the other things I have planned.

But I don't feel that way at all.

I don't think I'm ready to let go of Rina quite yet...

Well.

My next opportunity to perform probably won't be for quite some time, so I do have a lot of time to think about it. I can always learn new things and still keep Rina on the backburner if another opportunity comes up short notice. I mean who even knows when I'll feel confident enough to perform the next thing I've got planned anyway because it'll be even harder and more nerve-wracking.

So I guess that's where I currently stand as a soloist.

As for my group idol endeavors... we'll see :)

To end on a high note I guess I'll leave this photo. My friend was cosplaying Lanzhu. Lanzhu was killed by pirates. She died. I don't know if Rina has noticed yet.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

*SLAMS MY HANDS ONTO THE TABLE* hoo boy I have way too many hcs about mer language So disclaimer first, none of this has any basis in canon, it's just what I like to think about mer physiology. Moving on from that, I hc the mer language to not require breath, so their vocal cords are shaped rather differently from humans. Since mer have some sort of gills, based on the tweels and Azul's design (and if they don't and I'm remembering wrong that's honestly kinda stupid), they don't need air to breath. If they don't need air to breath, then how do they talk? My hc is that mer vocal cords are activated some other way (anatomy isn't my strong suit so I haven't decided the exact way). So mer do have their own language, but it's hella difficult for landdwellers to learn - so it's usually not taught on land. As for mer learning common language, that would be for emergencies - not many mer who aren't in service ventures or go to learn on land learn it well, but it's kinda like how Spanish is learned in the US - not learned well, but can be kinda understood. Anyways I have too many thoughts on mer biology and such, but ty for reading

[Referencing this post!]

ADDENDUM: Real life octopuses and moray eels don’t have gills in the shape or form we traditionally think of them on like… fish. I took a recent look at the Magical Archives and it seems that Jade and Azul’s pages talk about the markings on their sides (and some on their backs not seen in the usual frontal view) are fish-like gills. Weirdly enough, gills of this nature aren’t seen at all on more “human” merpeople. I talk a little more about that and the differences between them and the more human-like mermen guards stationed at the Atlantica museum here.

*puts on life science nerd glasses* 🤓 I’ve actually formally studied speech formation and A&P, so I can talk a bit about how normal (aka irl human) compares to some of the headcanons you shared! Of course, we don’t 100% know how merpeople anatomy and physiology is different and similar to humans (or how much fantasy races really borrow from real life), but I thought it would just be interesting to share the knowledge!

Firstly, breath is a requirement for speech because it is the movement of air across the vocal cords that results in the vibrations which become speech. Now, it’s not clear how or why merpeople are able to breathe underwater or why they don’t necessarily need to breathe air to survive; the respiratory system that typically brings air into the body must not be the same as a human’s, as that would likely result in water getting into the lungs and drowning them or crushing them from pressure. It’s entirely possible that merpeople have a hybrid respiratory system between that of a human and marine animals, so merfolk could have adapted such that the movement of water across their vocal cords produces a similar result as air does for humans. This, in addition to potentially having different shaped vocal cords, could mean a potential merlanguage has sounds that are very difficult or even impossible for non-merpeople to replicate.

Of course, that also begs the question 💦 would merpeople be able to even properly speak in their language if they were on land??? Because they wouldn’t be in the same kind of environment (and thus don’t have the same conditions as they do when they usually speak the language); this would impact how certain sounds are produced by the speech systems and then perceived by the ear.

I think merlanguage vs human languages isn’t exactly the same as Spanish vs English?? 🤔 Yes, some students may be in circumstances where their schools require them to learn a language other than the native tongue as part of their curriculum, but that’s because it can have practical applications even if they don’t become totally fluent or pursue higher level language difficulties. For example, especially in America, Spanish-speaking communities are a considerable part of the population and continues to grow, so Spanish is a popular second language. Mandarin Chinese is also on the rise globally, as China is becoming a powerhouse (so knowing how to communicate in Mandarin is smart for global enterprises). Many schools internationally also teach English as a universal second language because English is so prominently used.

In comparison, merpeople are so far geographically removed from humans and are given lore which states the majority of merpeople don’t really go to the surface world. It makes me wonder what the benefit of teaching human languages would be?? It’s not the same situation as the real world because it’s not a system where speakers of different languages would interact with each other super frequently (due to the split between land and sea). I understand maybe learning a second language for emergencies if there’s a good chance you’ll engage with populations speaking that language (like Spanish in the Americas), but it isn’t the case for merpeople because the chances of them interacting with a human doesn’t seem to be very high in places like the Coral Sea. It makes more sense to me that (if there is a native merlanguage or dialects) maybe merpeople would pick up some basic phrases of human languages (like “hello”, “thank you”, etc.) in their free time/by chance. There is no incentive to try learning another language even at a basic or conversational level unless maybe this was a path a merperson planned on pursuing further or professionally.

Again, can’t believe rubbing my two brain cells together to talk about how the fuck anime fish boys breathe and talk and are even theoretically possible—

[velvetures]

May I RQ a reader who is trying to learn their language to help them feel more comfortable, but feels insecure due to them not really being fluent? They mispronounce and misuse the slangs in context, but hopes they can make the boys see the effort they are trying to go through for them.

Lessons In Miscommunication

A/N: Hi doll, I hope you don't mind me using König for this one. I've got a lot of experience with Spanish irl, but that's not super applicable here, haha. To anyone who's German... please forgive me. 🤍 Summary: You're on comms during a mission getting a small lesson in König's language while waiting for your next orders from HQ. Things get complicated, and there's a language and culture barrier that makes things... challenging. T/W: canonical warfare, cursing, non-fluent use of German, flirting, feelings, and some other stuff probably. Not proofread, as always.

To put it simply, you didn't expect just how difficult it would be to learn a new language in your twenties. Sure the science spoke to the provable trouble you would have compared to a much younger version of yourself, but for all meaningful purposes, you really didn't think it would be this nuanced. And while Spanish, French, and other languages were of great importance, there wasn't anyone who could teach you those. The one person around was König, and he spoke German.

When you'd approached the topic nearly eight months ago, he'd been honestly shocked and surprised that you'd come to him in the first place and secondly that you thought he would be a good teacher. He was often thought of as reliable as a Colonel, but giving you suitable enough tutoring in German to be conversational was nothing short of uncharted territory for the pair of you. This made for very interesting moments in and outside of missions as well as a few times where it would've been better if you'd used an online app or something to keep from unintentionally embarrassing yourself.

Posted almost two miles away from the Colonel on a rocky outcropping overlooking a small encampment of a radical terrorist group, you laid on the hillside with a rifle and radio trying to pass the time between now and when you'd get the call to secure the site. The men and women down below were only one small stop-off point for a far larger caravan of armored trucks and a few tanks carrying supplies and weaponry toward the closest city of Almazra. It was a threat that couldn't come to fruition if the buildings and people still living there were to be left standing by the end of the week.

On the other end of the two-mile distance was König and a selected squad of men who were waiting just as impatiently as you were to not only get this mission over with but to get out of the damn desert heat. For security's sake, you knew you should be keeping the airways clear for any kind of information about the insurgent's movements, but König had insisted that this would be a perfect opportunity for you to get some practice in without losing focus of the task at hand. Your job at the moment was to keep eyes on the encampment through the lens of your sniper rifle and report anything that looked to be of importance.

König's definition of what was important could be easily debatable, yet it did ensure that you could make simple connections between real-world objects and the German words or phrases that matched. Whether or not the Colonel realized it or not, both of you had slightly gotten off the target of what you were supposed to be talking about and wandered into the more... personal aspects of things. Specifically just how bad you wanted to be home after nearly a full month away from American soil and your personal home.

"Ich habe für immer Fernweh," Your accent was certainly progressing, at least in the Colonel's mind, but he wasn't quite sure exactly what you meant by that.

"Was meinst du damit? Kannst du es dieses Mal auf Englisch sagen?"

His voice sounded a little confused and more than a tinge humored at the way you'd sounded so... formal. Even diplomatic to a degree. It was one of the more difficult parts of teaching you. Dialects, slang, and even simple English-to-German translations didn't always have a very direct or clear answer. Often it meant that you would say something with full intention and innocent honesty, and König would have to keep himself from chuckling. Most of the men he worked alongside didn't speak for one reason or another, so getting to hear at least one person -especially you- made the near and far miscommunication more than worth the effort.

Looking through your scope at a group of five sitting around a small fire, you sigh a bit, trying to think of how to explain yourself.

"I meant I'm feeling homesick," You mutter a little more quietly than necessary, almost as if saying it in English was broadcasting your secret while German somehow kept it from being found out. "What did you hear me say?"

König chuckled, his laugh vibrating in the speakers of your comm quite nicely. "You said you have wanderlust forever," You could hear him smiling from the other end. "It's okay, sometimes the words don't always mean exactly what you think they do. I had the same problem when I learned English." For a moment he paused, laughing softly again. "I still can't say Squirrel... properly."

"Vielleicht habe ich doch Lust auf etwas..." You mutter a bit frustrated and somewhat skarkily under your breath, making a small jab at wordplay not thinking that König could hear you over the radio or that he'd be more shocked to hear you say such a thing.

The radio stays silent for a long few minutes, almost tricking you into believing that you'd been safe in making your comment under your breath without any audible witnesses. Only on the other end, the Colonel was struggling between the actual meaning behind your words, the way it sounded so damn sexy... and how he was supposed to actually answer you without sounding too affected by something as simple as your voice.

"Se-Sergeant..." His voice sounded a little weak, much in the same way it did when he was in an uncomfortable social situation. "What did you just say?"

Instantly your body tensed up from fingers to toes and you felt a shock of heat roll through you. König heard you. Right away you assumed by the growl in his question that you were going to be in for some kind of punishment. Maybe even a good ass-chewing in front of the rest of the squad for saying something so easily considered lewd and totally unprofessional to utter in the presence of a superior officer. Your best bet was apologizing, and hoping he'd just let it go...

"I'm sorry, I was just frustrated and-"

His voice deepens over the radio, almost like he's got it pressed right up against his mouth. "Say it again." The command felt heavy in your stomach. "Now."

You repeated the phrase, staring through the lens of your scope with bated breath. waiting to hear what the Colonel would say in response. And the last thing you expected was to hear an almost pained sort of growling sound vibrating in your ears. It made you shiver and despite König being almost two miles away, it felt like he was breathing down your neck.

"Du klingst so hübsch, wenn du das sagst..." A noticeable static over the radio took your attention, but when it didn't get worse you had the mental capacity to translate what König said word by word until you had the full sentence running through your head.

The time between his praise and your response was nearly indistinguishable between seconds and years. Had it not been for you watching your targets moving in real-time through your scope, you would've thought the whole world had come to a stuttering halt in anticipation of your response. Yet it seemed that the world still had to do other important things which included bringing the key turning point of this mission right to your front door with the sudden sound of an approaching squad tailing the convoy of insurgents giving information and callouts for how to proceed forward. Of those, orders for König and his men to begin working down the side of the mountain to intercept the meeting of the convoy and the small ground sitting in tents around a high-burning fire.

"Ich werde später herausfinden, wie hübsch man klingen kann, wenn man schmutzige Dinge auf Deutsch sagt." The Colonel's voice growled lowly, almost threatening in a sense.

There was no telling what would happen after the mission ended and there wasn't a threat of being shot or failing to secure Almazra. What you could count on was König finding you and testing out his theory of all the things you could say in his language they may or may not have been provocative - on purpose or not. Something in your body shivered in delightful nervousness and anticipation of just how he planned on getting that kind of information out of you. A couple of ideas swirled in your mind, but the movement of the incoming convoy didn't allow you the luxury of daydreaming about your Colonel or how your mistaken words and German lessons had landed you here.

Comments and Reblogs are Always Helpful <3

[heartless-aro]

Heyo, i'm part of a queer organization irl. I'm trying to lead us to focus more on aromanticism, since even a lot of queer people know very little about it. I have two questions. Number One is about the term loveless, since I've seen it used (and explained) quite frequently but still don't understand it. I don't get it of it's an actual description of not wanting love of any kind or more of a hyperbole, a stance taken against the common practice of only talking about love in a romantic context. And also i wanted to know if you have any more general suggestions

Ok, so I’m actually gonna start with general suggestions since I know I’m going to ramble a lot about lovelessness when I get to that part (given how I am as a person).

Since aromanticism isn’t as well known as most other identities, it would probably be difficult to set up events or groups for aromantic people, so I’m going to assume that your main goal, at least to start with, is probably going to be providing information and resources, and I’m gonna do my best to give advice based on that.

So, first and foremost, I would recommend being very clear about the fact that you can be aromantic even if you are allosexual. Alloaros are a much more significant portion of the aromantic community than people tend to realize. I’ve been meaning to make a post about some research papers I’ve read that give a bit of insight into the exact statistics, but what’s important to know is that, based off what little research exists, it is likely although aromantic people are more likely to be asexual than alloromantic people, most aromantics are still allosexual, not asexual. There’s probably a lot of people who are aromantic and just don’t realize it, because unfortunately with the amount of alloaro erasure in our community, many allosexual people don’t realize that identifying as aromantic is even an option for them.

Also, this is a bit specific, but I would recommend that when providing resources on aromanticism, you also provide a bit of info on aro rings (i.e., what they are/how to wear one), since many aromantics have never met another aro irl and would likely benefit from having a way to find and connect with other aros.

AUREA’s website (aromanticism.org) has a lot of great resources too, so I would definitely suggest checking those out and maybe directing people to AUREA’s website for further information about aromanticism.

These are all somewhat simplistic suggestions since I’m not really an expert on organizing and I don’t know what sort of goals and resources you’re working with, but if you want to discuss further, feel free to dm/message me and I’ll help as best as I can (for real I have nothing better to do lol) ♠︎.

Lovelessness

Ok so now for your first question about whether the term “loveless” is literal or hyperbolic…the short answer is…yes. Yes it is. As for the long answer…

There are a number of reasons why someone might identify as loveless aromantic. For some people, their identity as loveless may be related to some intrinsic aspect of themselves while others may adopt the term for ideological reasons (i.e., as a political identity of sorts).

AUREA defines a loveless aromantic as “a person on the aromantic spectrum who feels disconnected from the concept of love, does not experience love, or rejects the idea of personally experiencing love” and clarifies that “loveless aros may experience other attractions, but do not equate these attractions to love.” This is a good start to understanding what loveless aromanticism is, but I’m going to try to discuss this in a bit more depth (at least, to the best of my ability).

At its core, lovelessness is simply the rejection of love as a descriptor for oneself and for one’s experiences — nothing more, nothing less. It only starts to become more complicated when you start delving into why someone might decide love is not a useful or applicable term for their experiences.

The most straightforward and obvious reason is that some people simply don’t feel anything that they can identify as love. This may be the case for people who lack the desire or ability to form close emotional bonds with others; this could be due to a personality disorder like szpd, aspd, npd, or ocpd, due to emotional detachment related to ptsd, due to negative symptoms of schizophrenia, and so on. Similarly, someone who struggles to identify their emotions may not know whether or not they feel love.

Some may also consider “love” to be inapplicable to themselves because love is often so loosely and inconsistently defined as to seem nonsensical or meaningless to them. After all, how can romance, friendship, family bonds, passion for hobbies, and general enjoyment of life all be categorized as forms of “love” when each one of these is a fundamentally different experience?

The word love can refer to a lot of things, but romantic love is, for better or for worse, central to its basic definition. So much of our society’s concept of love is characterized by traits associated with romantic love, with all other forms of love being treated as secondary at best. Although we can stretch the definition so the word love can be more broadly applied, that doesn’t change the fact that, unless we completely rethink how we conceptualize love (as many lovequeer aros do), love as a social construct is inextricably tied to romance.

People are quick to label virtually any positive human experience as love, and in doing so without actually deconstructing what love means, they implicitly draw a connection between romantic love and those other positive human experiences. Yet is my “love” of music really the same emotion as someone else’s love for their spouse? Or do we only call them both love because — with romantic love being seen as the pinnacle of human emotion — we have become convinced that the only way the enjoyment of music could be anywhere near as valuable an experience as romantic love is if the enjoyment of music is in and of itself a form of love? By calling labeling any and all sources of joy as forms of love without considering whether they actually meet the definition of the term, we risk elevating the pedestal upon which society places romantic love, to our own detriment.

So, part of why someone might identify as loveless is because, in rejecting the idea that our experiences should be labeled as love, we are seeking to challenge the notion that the value of our experiences lies in their similarities to romance. In doing so while continuing to assert that our experiences are equal in value to the experience of romantic love, we seek to combat the idea that romantic love is above all other things.

Furthermore, there are also many people who identify as loveless due to having had “love” weaponized against them in the past. When people say that love makes us human, some of them may mean love in that broad sense that includes platonic affection, familial bonds, care towards pets, passion for hobbies, and so on. But for most people, the first type of love that comes to mind is always going to be romantic love, and for many, love and romance are inherently synonymous.

Although attempts to expand the definition of love are valuable, many aromantics (like myself) are uncomfortable with labeling any of their feelings as love. Furthermore, many neurodivergent aros, autistic aros in particular, have the love they do experience delegitimized by others because they cannot express love in the way people expected them to. (This is something that K.A. Cook explains in much greater detail in hir essay where ze first coined the term loveless aromantic. I plan on posting a link to this essay in a separate post in a bit. I highly recommend reading over it if you have the time).

After a lifetime of being excluded from the category of “people who love,” many aromantics don’t want to be told that we’re allowed to “join the club” now. There are people who will never consider our experiences to be the same as “real love,” and those who do will often consider us only as an afterthought. When people reinforce the idea that “love makes us human” or that “love is the meaning of life,” they may be including things like platonic love in their definition of love, but at the end of the day, not everyone will interpret their statements that way, and so their statements will still contribute to the dehumanization of aromantic people. Thus, it is not enough to be placated by the notion that love can include us too; at best, this is an empty platitude, and at worst, it serves to silence us on the matter of our own dehumanization. We need to dismantle the notion that love is intrinsic to humanity and happiness. In rejecting inclusion into the category of “people who feel love,” loveless aros make it impossible to ignore how equating love with humanity and happiness dehumanizes us and devalues our lives.

Anyways, this is based pretty heavily on my own thoughts and experiences and it’s probably not super organized but I hope that it helps.

So uhh,

tldr; loveless can be a descriptor for someone who doesn’t want love in any form, or it can be used as a hyperbole to express a stance against equating love and romance, or some combination of the two.

[katyspersonal]

Had an horrible thought. Bloodborne live action movie directed by tim burton 😭😭

dsjfjhhsdds You say this, but it actually doesn't sound all THAT bad XD I think at the very least he would be able to grasp the vibe, and add characters who are eccentric enough x)

I also know it is practically a staple to usually focus Bloodborne anime/show/movie/manga/etc story on the time before the game's events (usually centering on Maria and uprising of the Healing Church), but... his style genuinely would fit that period better! Not that I doubt that he'd be able to pull off more 'dirty' and 'bloody', devastated setting... but in my opinion his approach best fits the settings where Aesthetic TM is applicable! So, times where dresses, carriages, Victorian sweets shops etc still existed. <:3

I am no expert though, @heraldofcrow on the other hand has good knowledge and good taste in gothic(leaning) art; music, books, movies, drawings, whatever.... 🤔 She even sometimes surprises me with how FITTING irl faceclaims she finds for some characters? In fact- LET CROW DIRECT THE BLOODBORNE MOVIE SDJHFDSH