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#They have way too much power and are using it for the wrong reasons - which makes them truly great villains.
essektheylyss · 2 days
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for the ask game: 🧡🖤💚
🧡: What is a popular (serious) theory you disagree with?
Until I see definitive proof that Ludinus is in fact as old as he wants people to believe he is, I will not believe it. I don't even really have an opinion on how old he is; I just don't think he's as old as he tries to suggest. And lest it be said that I am playing favorites, the thing about Ludinus is that he talks the way Essek talks in 91—and there are a lot of things Essek says at that dinner that I take with a good heaping of salt. It's this sense that they're talking around things that they would rather people not question; they're both very skilled at talking around things in a way where they aren't outright lying, but they'd rather you not think too hard about it because there's shit they're not saying. To be clear I also won't be mad if there does turn out to be some evidence in canon that he is that old, but thus far, there is nothing definitive, and I do not take the word of unreliable NPCs at face value.
🖤: Which character is not as morally good as everyone else seems to think?
I don't think this is really an unpopular opinion at this point, but Jester. Nice =/= good. I don't think she's evil, by any means! But her morality is a lot more complex than it's given credit for and I think it's one of the things that is most interesting about her. I'd actually consider her largely amoral; it's just not really an axis of consideration that she worries about. She doesn't want people to hurt her or her friends and she doesn't want something to destroy the world, but otherwise she doesn't really care much about what someone's morality is. "Just don't be evil to me" is an incredible sentiment for a reason. She cares more that Essek said they were his friends than the fact that he's the traitor they've been looking for. Ludinus is so insignificant to her despite his literally world-spanning evil plots that she has basically forgotten him six years later, even though two members of her friend group have spent the last six years trying to pin him down. Jester is hilariously amoral and I love that for her.
💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?
[cracks knuckles] OKAY, this is where I've got receipts, because hooo boy do I have an opinion and I will be proving it.
Essek does not have an opinion on the Prime Deities. He does not really have much of an opinion on religion. He actually does not by the end of the campaign have any real issue with the Luxon, and frankly he primarily expressed issue with the Dynasty's worship because, until he got to Aeor, he wasn't certain that the Luxon was a real entity at all—which he contrasts against the Prime Deities, in fact!—and he seems to believe there is compelling evidence in Aeor that categorically disproves his hypothesis that the beacons are simply constructed Age of Arcanum devices.
Originally he is mostly concerned that the Luxon religion is used as a "crutch" which is "distracting them from what other good things they could do with the time and focus". He does specify that any religion can be used as such, but he only remarks upon the one he knows. His theory about the beacons, as of episode 91, is that they may be "artifacts designed in the Age of Arcanum that have been misread" that could be put to even further use.
He also does parrot the Dynasty party line in their first meeting about the Luxon being "the basis of how we've been able to free ourselves from the binds of the lineage the Betrayer Gods left for us", and while I do not take him at face value here (see the above commentary about unreliable NPCs), I doubt the truth of this statement is lost on him, considering his familial connections to Bazzoxan, which I can only imagine would not exactly endear one to the Betrayers, though this is only conjecture. If we do care to take him at his word here, it's not unreasonable, since he obviously has a lot more interest in the power offered by the beacons than anything else.
With all that being said, his tune on the Luxon itself has at least changed by the time they get to Aeor. He discusses iconography found in Aeor and when prompted by the Nein about whether the beacons were created by mortals, says, "I do not believe that they are made by anyone but the Luxon. They are of the Luxon. But they've been around since the Luxon's been in Exandria, which is the beginning."
So we started with him largely apathetic to religion, uncertain if this god was real, and by the time we circle back to him, he has now sided fairly definitively with the fact that the Luxon is an entity that has been around since at least the Founding. (For those keeping track at home, this is longer than Predathos has been around. In the Dynasty's creation myth, it may also have been around before the Prime Deities arrived, which is technically not incompatible with the creation myth of Exandria at large, but I digress.) Like most of Exandria, and as is perfectly reasonable for both his culture and his region, he probably doesn't have any love for the Betrayer Gods, but doesn't express much opinion if any on the Prime Deities. He has no time for religion, but frankly, he doesn't have time for much except for his own research, so it's hard to really ascribe any noted contempt to that.
Like, look, I've written plenty of religious trauma Essek fic, and I don't doubt that that element of it exists, but overall, in terms of canonical statements, it's pretty tame.
With that being said, I do want to fast forward a bit to draw attention to something else. Because I actually do think he ends the campaign with some measure of respect for, at the very least, the Wildmother.
In 140 after the Raise Dead fails, he talks briefly with Fjord about the unfairness of it. Fjord passively directs him to "if you were to ask my wise friend Caduceus..." Immediately after this exchange, Essek challenges Caleb to not accept defeat, and admits he wishes there was more that he or any of them could do, but concedes that, "Unfortunately, this type of magic is beyond my purview."
Immediately after this exchange, Caduceus asks for divine intervention.
Of course, he then spends several weeks gardening in a temple to the Wildmother, and seems to find some genuine clarity and perspective there, but I think this alone is enough to argue that, for a person as driven by empirical evidence as Essek, this sequence of events in 140 would be plenty to earn a wizard's respect.
So my formal belief is that Essek is not in fact anti-god or anti-religion, let alone against the Prime Deities. My opinion is that it's very easy to imagine him on his post-campaign travels leaving a small offering at any shrine of Melora he might pass, not out of actual worship but as a sign of respect.
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cripplecharacters · 12 hours
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Hi! This is a sort of weird question, but I’m writing a sci fi /fantasy book with two disabled main characters:
1. Cove is twelve years old and has something along the lines of Williams syndrome (possibly that, possibly Down syndrome—still deciding). He’s mildly intellectually disabled and has low muscle tone + an unspecified heart problem (which is stable but he still gets regular checkups for it). His power is turning into a giant at will. He might have PTSD for reasons that are potentially triggering, so I won’t go into details ^^’ He really likes the ocean and spicy food, and hates people staring at him or judging him
2. Lucas is sixteen and uses a wheelchair full time due to cerebral palsy. His hands tend to shake a lot too. His power is turning into a Sphynx cat. He’s a trans guy. Idk what he would like or dislike yet tbh, but I picture him dressing in black clothes a lot
My question is this—what are some ways these characters’ powers could like interact with their disabilities? So far I have that overusing his giant power could possibly put strain on Cove’s heart. and if Lucas wants to move around independently in his cat form, he’d probably need one of those animal wheelchairs for his back legs?
Also— is there anything else I need to consider while I write this story?
I’m not trying to get you to do all the brainstorming for me btw! I hope it doesn’t seem like that ^^’ I’m just looking for other people’s thoughts and input-
Hi!
I think that the powers you gave them are very cool! Often with disabled superpowered characters there's the trope of always having the ability be fundamentally connected with their disability. Someone shapeshifting into a cat is awesome!
The concept of Cove's transformation putting pressure on his heart is very realistic (if you can say that about shapeshifting, lol)! Both Down and Williams Syndrome come with cardiac problems, so you won't need to change that if you decide to switch the exact disability. I'm thinking that maybe he could try to slowly turn giant, rather than instantaneously? I imagine that turning back to being normal-sized could also cause some issues. I'm unsure if that's a part of your story, but I think that having his family worry about him transforming because of his heart would be realistic as well. Wouldn't really classify it as infantilization because he's twelve, and I know that a lot of parents of children with DS are extremely cautious around the cardiovascular problems (not sure about Williams Syndrome here, but I think it would make sense as well)! You mentioned PTSD, and while I don't see anything wrong here from what you said, I would just urge you to not have some weird "PTSD flashback = turns giant and extremely violent" (violent being the key word here) kind of scene. (If you have PTSD yourself then feel free to do whatever you want of course). But I think that him becoming bigger when he feels threatened as a defense mechanism of sorts would make sense.
For Lucas, I think that the idea of shapeshifting from a wheelchair user to a wheelchair using cat goes incredibly hard. As for the ways that it could interact with his cerebral palsy: if he has issues with his arms then he would use the wheelchair a bit differently. In the kitty wheelchair the whole energy comes from the forelimbs, so if his hands shake then he would be much more wobbly as a cat than as a human. I'm not sure whether cerebral palsy in kitties is a thing, but you can look up cats with cerebellar hypoplasia. It's not the same thing but causes some similar symptoms! For example, the lack of balance that Lucas could have due to shaky limbs.
In my opinion your story sounds great! If you have any more questions with more specific details, feel free to send another ask :)
Sorry for the late answer! I hope this helps!
mod Sasza
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The reason I think Alastor should be in the wrong(or at least mostly in the wrong) in his and Vox's falling out is that I don't think their relationship would be worth exploring as deeply as it sounds like it will be next season if Vox was the primary reason they started fighting, because it would do NOTHING for Alastor's arc.
Like- okay, Alastor's arc is very clearly going to be about learning that trusting people is Okay and not a sign of weakness, right? He's literally the only character in the show that is very clearly about the power of friendship who refuses to accept any sort of help, like even the VILLAINS are constantly hyping eachother up! If they fell apart because of something Vox did, and their relationship is going to be super important next season, wouldn't that not really do anything for Alastor's arc? Unless Vox pulling some weird shit is the ROOT CAUSE of Alastor's trust issues, but, given what we know about his past and how his ego seems to be the biggest contributor to said issues, I don't think it is. Alastor would HAVE to have contributed SIGNIFICANTLY to their falling out if their relationship is going to mean anything to his arc, because otherwise it just feels more like a weird aside then anything else? Like "oh yeah we used to be friends but then he did some weird shit and now we're not friends anymore". It adds nothing. There's nothing emotional for Alastor to confront in this scenario.
Which makes for a more interesting story, the relationship between the mc and someone from their past who, while they miss, isn't the kind of person they want to be around anymore so they don't really feel bad about cutting them off who ALSO doesn't pose any real Active Threat to the mc, or the mcs relationship with someone who they respected a lot but cut off because they felt the two of them were getting too close and we can't have THAT, now can we? It's the second one. It's the second one because the second one HAS HIGHER STAKES! The first one makes for a good one episode plotline, but for a season long arc? Takes where Vox is in the wrong actually make VOX a more interesting character to follow then Alastor, because that makes HIM the only one with an actual emotional stake in the conflict. But this isn't Vox's story. It's Alastor's story. Alastor is the main character. Which means, for their relationship to provide anything of value to the plot, Alastor needs to have emotional stakes in the situation too. The best villains are the ones that force your characters to grow and become better people(unless you're doing a silly little monster of the week type of show but THAT'S NOT WHAT HAZBIN IS-), and the only way Vox being the main antagonist next season is gonna cause any kind of growth is if Alastor is being forced to reconcile with his past.
Anyways uh, yeah that's it. I could do a tangent about how their relationship lowkey parallels Fizz & Blitzø(a comparison I made in this post but didn't actually go into depth on bcuz it wasn't relevant to the post beyond supporting my argument + didn't have much backing at the time), but I do NOT have the brain power to go in-depth comparing and contrasting that stuff rn, bcuz, despite the similarities, whatever the fuck Vox & Al have going on seems to be a LOT more Complicated and Sad then an accident and some dad-induced miscommunication. So I'm just gonna leave it at that :)
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 3 months
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The girls are plottinggggg
[First] Prev <–-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wen chao#wang lingjiao#Realizing she was supposed to have an upper lip mole was a cold slap in the face. So sorry ma'am. I won't forget again.#They are evil dumbass 4 evil dumbass and I think we are all missing out on the sheer potential of the comedy between these two.#They have way too much power and are using it for the wrong reasons - which makes them truly great villains.#And when things don't go their way they become piles of whining sludge.#Wang Lingjiao is forever fascinating to me even though we only get crumbs about her.#She's a servant girl who's greatest asset is her beauty and her attractiveness.#Meaning she's had a life being in the gaze of people with significant positions of power over her.#I can't help but read her childishness and petty tantrums as someone who has finally been given the chance to not feel powerless.#If she was a more virtuous type we might 'like' her more but honestly...I don't think she would have survived to this point.#WLJ has only known power hierarchies her whole life. Probably accused of seduction before she even understood what that meant.#I love contrasting her with mianmian because they have similar(ish) backgrounds but different approaches to moving forwards#But WLJ's story is about flying too close to the sun and mianmian's is about going too close to the water.#Like the sea mist dragging her down into complacency - all the sect powerplays are mandatory to 'go along with' if she wants to climb-#-the social ladder. Yet she is the cautionary tale (and a foil to JGY as well) she leaves before sacrificing her own morals.#Mianmian flies away with her wings only slightly plucked while those who sacrificed everything to reach for the top crash and burn.
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unproduciblesmackdown · 7 months
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spinning off of "winston being fantastically (literally fantastical (literally related to fantasy)) clairvoyant (he is also figuratively clear-sighted / figuratively preternaturally perceptive just like, in the show. which is where this all comes from. plus him calling himself cassandra, always seeing the future. he really has always / continued to be thusly) and taylor literally has a broadsword" type fun and games that are very loosey goosey b/c billions aus go spinning off into their own separate dimensions super easily when billions canon is so rooted in its specific Stage Settings of modern day US law n finance battles in the office, sidewalks, and eateries:
the thought of winston & tuk and winston gets to be a fairy. jokes, please. changelings are right there with the common theory of "was this to explain disabilities & go 'something could go Wrong and the baby's not a Person and get rid of that,' unlike nowadays where people do that but go 'b/c that baby's disabled'" and also one goes Thinking Emoji about how apparently New Mothers and New Brides were susceptible along with New Borns to become swapped out with a fairy and now something's wrong with them and get rid of that. had to be about Something given that people apparently did act on changeling lore and martin luther is taking a stance like yeah another thesis, it's important to kill them And okay to kill them b/c they don't even have a soul anyways. okay thanks martin luther....meanwhile also witchcraft and getting after anybody for that too. and fairies generally as Problems, the etymology going back to [fate], the range like "ooh hehe causing funny little inconveniences just because" to more so "yeah they could cause life-threatening illness for that" and "yeah they'll just kill you"....and i think fairy/fey as respective noun/adj re: being gay is of Unknown Origin, like "gay" also is. and you never know, if being fey is like, well something's not right and it's dangerous, whether this is the inspiration....though by the time this slang starts turning up, and even in the time of prior possible origins / the roots in other usages / potential inspirations, theoretical actual fairies are surely becoming more Fanciful, this being around like, the 18th century, rather than "here's martin luther telling you to immolate! that! baby!"
but that like, you can have it all ways out here. the Always Small fairies i think being a later kind of victorian deal, rather than "fairies are shapeshifters & can become animals e.g. & May have a 'tiny little inches or millimeters high mode' but that's just a mode & the fact that generally though they just look like people, maybe with some stylistic variations and tells, means watch out" and i think wings came up ever, across yknow the various centuries and regions of folklore out here lmao and possible origins / influences yet further across time & regions & cultures, but again "always small and always winged" being a very relatively modern victorian deal. but we can draw on that to be sure when, additionally, a Potential mutual [would prefer to avoid] between fairies and humans (as opposed to "if your house or some shit is on a fairy path bestie just build them another door to walk straight through cuz they're Gonna") becomes "no, fairies mostly avoid humans more than the other way around" type of imbalance of any threat means like, well hey sure, the Real Self could then become a tiny little magical guy having fun with wing designs who is shy and elusive but maybe another fun little guy can accidentally become aware but then have a secret little hidden friendship hmm....
but then also just thinking of the version where you just look exactly like everyone else and live amongst them, changeling style. and potentially don't Know you're different, or at least not Why, b/c this is a "from birth" thing like hmmm ya don't say. and the whole thread where in some folklore fairies Aren't nonhuman, the difference is only about the separate fairy Realm you live in, which is different, with like "yeah sometimes fairies come from people who died." and alongside / overlapping with everything like "yeah you could disappear for a few days to that realm and then be like 'don't wanna / can't talk about it'" and whatever all various like "watch out for the liminal and unknowingly wandering or being taken into the fairy world and Then watch out for communing with them b/c then you could be Permanently affected, or permanently continually affected or vulnerable, or just stuck there. and we wouldn't want that" like well don't let them know your name but maybe try to find out their names b/c you can get at them in turn that way, don't get in on any food, don't get in on any parties. though variations, sometimes people getting whisked away for particular tasks that apparently Only humans can do. or forever potential for helpful / sympathetic fairy interventions in life. like fairies raising humans b/c their human parents were awful
also, that some classic Tests for "is your baby a changeling?" were very like, "well i guess if we drowned or burned that person and they just died about it....our bad," in the way that like apparently the way to go could be "put them in the fire. where they'll either burn or fly out the chimney." or "start going tf beating them with objects. so that they go away" like and they never stop beating winston with hammers out here!! or the classic "idk abandon them in the forest so fairies can take them back" like well they do also like [i prefer to pretend winston doesn't exist / forget that he does] lmao. this isn't really related. just the ol "ballpeen hammers kind of goated when it comes to putting someone in a sack and beating them to death" factor out here for your local changelings
also sure thinking of like ohh watch out for winston and his gayass Realm he exists in which is wrong and not of our own and potentially will forever change you with its gayass ways. uh oh don't get corrupted into a whole other powerful magical mode of existence if you commune with him in some deep fundamental nourishing ways. oh nooo watch ouuuut....one of the "you might be a changeling if" moments being "when they think they're alone do they act up?? dance??" like yeah i'm stimming and bursting into motion and making noises and existing wrong when i think i'm alone. Old Souls (theory as well that newborn changelings were secretly elderly fairies)....existence in the Fey Realm just making you different and out of place huh. and it would just be a guy though like either [undetectable except by already trying to kill them] and/or [actually just a human, fairies are just humans, fairies b/c they're in/from the fairy realm] but uh oh don't let him corrupt you. don't go hanging out with him and talking with him and partaking in his activities and embracing his ways. you'll be changed. you'll never fit in around here and be able to do things right ever again. we'll have to start beating you with hammers. and all for what. your weird gayass little guy and a whole possible other dimension of existence? vs all This? smh
#that fey little mf. all the same glasses hoodies cargo pants winston....#winston billions#you can't go wrong. sort of semi fantastical au. or just modern day ''fairies can even be in your hedge fund office'' magical realism#not even like there's clear Powers lol like what do fairies do? well bit fuzzy on that but one things for sure:#cause problems for US!!!! like wow the way symptoms & definitions of disabilities are approached much?#you might be a fairy if....ouch i'm dead of unclear causes in 1337. Not very 1337....#winston is truly always causing problems. also learned that ''oaf'' (another word i've recently thought like ''i would just not say that''#b/c for some reason the nyt i believe described orville wingate as [still an(?)] Oaf & i was like a) huh b) excuse me) derives from fairy#as it was a term for a changeling specifically :I which juuust so happens to lead to connotations of Stupidity(tm) & Clumsiness(tm)#hmm! you do not say it!#what could changeling winston do? up for grabs. but the point is: change(ling) your life. and other fun things :)#also i think another potential fairy ability was: seeing the future as well lol. it's all coming together#seeing winston with fun bird wings b/c you've communed with him ''too much'' already. not an angel thing. a fairy thing#(sidebar abt how some Lore was that they Are an angel thing. see: influence from whole other traditions lol)#winston Becoming a bird b/c he can do things like that b/c fairies are shapeshifters. he's a pigeon =) you have a nest for him =) cooing#another parallel like ''definitely don't fuck him or you're locked in to his gay autistic realm for sure''#just like how as a theoretically real world autistic person everyone just knows winston isn't allowed to have sex#nowadays how ridiculous to imagine going: we think someone is weird & dislike their vibes; they shouldn't exist. we should ostracize them#we would never be like; some corruption has caused your child to exist wrong. basically taking your Real child away from you#or when they do tragically exist that they should be driven away to any possible extent up to ''just kill them :( sorry for You btw''#with the Possibility fairies could give you your Real Human Child back....#autistic kid? number one recommendation totally isn't ''put them in specialized abuse school where we try to banish the autism for you''
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sluttywoozi · 1 month
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Golden Hour | husband!joshua x reader
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After a long day of surf and sun, Joshua somehow still has the energy to fuck you into the hotel mattress. Being in love (and obsessed) with his wife always pays off.
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.4k | Pairing: hjs x reader | Genre: smut
Part of the Husband Joshua series! Can be read as a standalone
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V
Warnings: idk how to surf so if this is wrong blame wikihow, possessive!josh, drink mention but it doesn’t have to be alcoholic, oral r. rec., spitting, some spanking, fingering, piv sex, breeding kink but they don't want kids, creampie(s), cockwarming
Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina, on some form of birth control, referred to as a wife, wears a bikini (every body is a bikini body), wears a dress
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Joshua raises a hand to his face, holding it above his eyes to block the glaring sun as he scans the crowded shore for you. He’s been out in the water for a while, trying to improve his surfing skills and also perhaps trying to impress you, just a little. Neither you nor him have been to the beach since your honeymoon, and he doesn’t want you to think those lessons he splurged on while you were having a spa day were for nothing. 
He’s caught a few waves so far but hasn’t made it close enough to the shore to see your face, so he has no idea if you’ve been watching him or if you’ve just been reading and listening to music. He won’t be hurt if you haven’t had your eyes on him, but he does want you to see him ride at least one wave. 
He hears some murmurs from the few other surfers in front of him and turns around, instantly seeing what has them talking. There’s a big one coming in, building and building and building, and if he starts paddling now, he just might make it. 
So he leans forward onto his stomach, his arms powering through the water even as his muscles begin to ache from so much use. The ocean beneath him starts getting sucked in, contributing to the rolling wave, and he prepares himself to pop up and find his balance. 
His heart races as he takes off, getting his feet beneath him and standing on steady legs, his arms loose and his eyes trained on the shore. He rides the wave as far as he can, bailing when it starts to peter out and immediately swimming up to catch his breath. Climbing back onto his board, he looks around for your rented rainbow sun umbrella, grinning when he realizes he’s much closer to it than he thought he’d be. 
You’re not under it though, his smile dropping as he starts to survey the beach, searching for you. He can’t seem to find you, and for some reason that has his heart racing again, this time in anxiety rather than exhilaration. 
“Joshie! That was amazing!” You exclaim from somewhere to the left of him, your voice just a bit faint but still easily recognizable. He whips his head over, his shoulders relaxing as soon as he sets eyes on you, wading waist deep in the clear blue water and making your way toward him. 
He beams and hops off the board, closing the remaining distance and catching you with one arm as you launch yourself at him. The other keeps hold of his board, though he wishes he had both hands free to hug you back. 
He also wishes he could feel your skin against his, but his swim shirt is still in the way and he won’t be able to take it off until you let go of him, which he’s not going to ask you to do any time soon. 
It’s silly but he’s missed you while he was out surfing, even though it’s only been a couple of hours. You’ve been on vacation for three days already and he’s grown used to sharing every minute with you, being in your presence for each breath in and each breath out, bar bathroom breaks and the one nap you took without him when he wanted to explore and you wanted to stay in. 
He wishes it could be like this all the time, but he’ll settle for the rest of the week if only because he knows he’ll have you for the rest of his life. 
Too soon, you pull away, sliding your hands from his shoulders to rest on his chest, your touch appreciative and the slightest bit possessive. His hand on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into the soft flesh exposed by your bikini. You let him pick out your swimsuit today, and while some men might want to cover their wife up, he’s the opposite. 
He thinks it’s hot that people are looking at you, wanting you, not knowing he’s the only one you’ll ever go home with. They realize when he presses his lips to yours in a claiming kiss, when he lets his hands wander a little, when they notice the matching rings on your left fourth fingers. 
He doesn’t even know if anyone is looking at you now, too busy staring into your eyes to notice anything else, but he feels the urge all the same. You can already tell what he wants, leaning in to meet him in the middle as he kisses you deeply, slowly, sucking at your bottom lip and sliding his tongue into your mouth when it opens on a gasp. 
His hand slips down to your ass, squeezing it over your swimsuit hard, pulling your cheek up and over, surely tugging at your pussy too. You squirm against his chest, pressing closer to him as your fingernails dig into his pecs. 
He remembers you’re at a public beach when a wave crashes into you, and thank goodness it did because he was millimeters away from slipping his hand into your bikini bottoms so he could find out if you’re wet from the water or wet for him. 
He pulls away and laughs, shifting his hand to your lower back and pecking you one last time before breathing, “Should we head back to the room?” 
“Yeah, I think we should. Wanna lay out enough to dry off first?” You offer hopefully, and while he kind of just wants to throw you over his shoulder and haul you to the hotel now, he knows you hate tracking water through the clean lobby. 
“Sure, baby, we can do that,” he smiles fondly, giving you one last squeeze and releasing you. His board goes under one arm and you go under the other, your hand coming up to hold his as you walk back to the shore together. 
He splits off from you to return the board to the surf shack, promising he’ll bring back one of those coconut drinks for you to share though he knows you’ll likely have most of it. 
The line isn’t too long for the return of the board or the purchase of the coconut drink, thankfully, and he walks back to you with care, not wanting to spill even a drop. 
You’re on your stomach to the side of the umbrella when he arrives, not under its shade but close enough that it’s obviously yours, a thick terry cloth blanket spread out under you with just enough room for his body too. He sighs contentedly as he sits next to you, handing over the drink and smiling as your eyes widen with glee, your lips pursing around the straw to take an excited sip. 
He reaches for the hem of his surf shirt and yanks it off, wringing it out away from the blanket and laying it flat on the edge of the lounge you no longer occupy. You roll over to lay on your back and he feels your eyes on him like a physical touch, your gaze hot and familiar on his chest and stomach. 
He loves how you look at him, loves that you’d rather stare at him than at the beautiful beach around you, loves even more that you’re obsessed with his body just like he’s obsessed with yours. 
He also loves that this way, he can look at you too. You shift up onto your elbows, your breasts jiggling with the movement, and he feels a bolt of desire shoot straight down his spine as he lets his eyes lovingly travel over every available inch of you. Over your soft tummy and your squeezable hips and your perfect, perfect thighs. Thighs he wants to suffocate between. Thighs he wants to sink his teeth into. Thighs he wants to hold down to the bed as he-
“I think I’m dry enough. Are you?” 
He clears his throat and attempts to clear his head, but images of you still swim through his thoughts, even as he nods and tugs at his board shorts to subtly adjust himself. They don’t feel as wet between his fingers, just damp, and when he reaches for his shirt, it’s close enough to dry that he only cringes a little as he pulls it back on. 
You pack up together quickly, and Joshua is almost relieved when you reach for your dress and tug it over your head, needing a reprieve from your near naked body. He’s less relieved when he remembers that it’s a fucking sundress. 
Of course it is, that’s all you’ve been wearing on this trip, and he doesn’t know how he forgot. This is worse, because it’s his favorite article of clothing on you, and because he knows all you’ve got on under it is an easily untied, flimsy little bikini. 
It takes everything in him not to pull you into one of the changing cabanas, bend you over, and make you scream for him; he manages somehow, the knowledge that he can do the latter two when you get into the room tiding him over, but only just. 
He’s silent while you return the umbrella, his hand tight around yours as you walk through the lobby, and he’s glad you know him well enough to understand that he’s not upset or annoyed, just nearly out of his mind with desire for you. 
The wait for the elevator feels like eons, especially when he looks at you in the reflection of the metal doors, your form slightly fuzzy but clear enough for him to see the rise of your tits under your dress and the way the hem flutters gently over your thighs. Those thighs…
The doors part with a ding and you pull him inside, pressing the button for your floor before the elevator fills with other guests, leaving you and Joshua at the back. You’ll have to maneuver in between them to get out but it means he can slide his hand up your dress and squeeze your ass again, his fingers slipping under your bikini to touch your bare skin. 
They creep closer to the heat between your legs with every stop, and he’s just about to reach your pussy when the elevator lands on your floor. He reluctantly takes his hand back and rights your dress, murmuring, “Excuse us,” as he weaves around the few people left. When the doors close behind you, he twines his fingers with yours and breaks into a jog, tugging you to the room and grinning as a few bitten back giggles escape you. 
He bounces on his toes as you dig the card out of your bag, your trembling fingers inserting it into the lock and his hand turning the handle as soon as the light glows green. He pushes the door open for you, following closely with his other hand tight on your hip, his dick already hard and throbbing in anticipation. 
You’ve barely set your bag down before he’s steering you to the bed, crowding you up against the edge, and pressing your shoulder to bend you over. He flips up the hem of your dress and tears down your bikini, knocking your legs apart with his own and pushing his left knee up until yours rests on the bed. He’s sure you expect him to drop his shorts and sink right into you, which is probably why you gasp when he falls to his knees and slaps your ass with both hands before spreading your cheeks apart and shoving his tongue inside of you. 
You taste fucking divine, the beloved flavor of your pussy tinged with salty seawater, and he groans deeply into you, fucking his tongue in and out of your entrance and swallowing as his mouth fills with saliva and your arousal. 
He fucks you with his tongue until you’re whining and shaking above him, tilting your hips to improve the angle and rocking into his movements. The leg keeping you up starts to quiver, and he pulls away just long enough to gasp out, “On the bed, baby, get on the bed.”
You listen, clumsily climbing up and stretching out for him, face down, ass up, just like he likes you. He smacks your ass again just because he can before spreading your pussy open with his thumbs and spitting on your clenching entrance. Some of it seeps inside of you and some of it trails down to your clit, leaving the bud glistening and just begging for his attention. 
He leans down and wraps his lips around it, sucking in hard, quick pulses until you cry out, “Joshie, please!”
“Please what, baby? Tell me what you want,” he mumbles into you, just loud enough for you to hear. 
“Your fingers, I want your fingers,” you whimper into the pillow, arching your back and pressing further into him in wanton need. 
He licks his lips to get one last taste of you and slides two digits deep inside, giving you no time to adjust to the intrusion before pulling them out to the tip and sinking them back in. His pace rockets up, his tired muscles hard at work as he fucks you with his fingers, the wet sound of your pussy accepting them filling the air. 
He wants to hear your voice too, slowing down and leaning over you to slide his fingers beneath your cheek and turn your head to the side so you’re no longer muffled by the pillow. Your gaze catches his and he smiles tenderly at you, pressing a kiss to your temple before returning to his previous position and hooking his fingertips into your g-spot, grinding harshly into it. 
Predictably, you yelp, your eyes squeezing shut as he focuses on massaging that sensitive patch, his breath catching as he feels you get wetter around his fingers. You’re moaning now, your brows scrunched with pleasure and your mouth stuck open, and he reaches his free hand up to tap at your bottom lip with two fingers, sliding them into your mouth when you open wider for him. 
You suction around them immediately, your tongue laving over his knuckles and bathing his fingers in saliva, and he feels his cock throb in his shorts in response, the memory of your perfect lips around it visceral and precious. He yanks his fingers back before he can get too distracted, reaching around you to sandwich your clit between them. 
He starts fucking you with his other hand again, your hips jerking with it, stimulating your clit as he curls his fingertips towards your stomach, tapping your sweet spot with every thrust. It’s not long before you’re gasping out his name and clenching down, your thighs juddering as you fight to hold yourself up through the pleasure. 
He doesn’t stop, pinching your clit harder and digging his fingers into you, scissoring them to stretch you out for another. A third squeezes in beside the first two, making you whine and claw at the duvet, your cunt contracting and trying to suck his fingers in deeper when he pulls them out. 
“Fuck,” he groans, releasing your clit to press down on your back and deepen the arch, making it even easier for him to hit your g-spot. He wants to be inside of you, desperately, but he wants to make you cum again first, wants you to be so wet, he can just glide right in. 
You’re getting close, he can tell by the way you’re pushing back into his thrusts and sobbing, and he doesn’t know what possesses him to say it, but it just feels so fucking right that he can’t stop the words from coming out.
“Cum for me and I’ll breed you full.” 
You suck in a sharp gasp and bear down, your pussy rippling and leaking and fever hot as you break apart beneath him, your arousal soaking his hand and dripping down his wrist. It seems like it lasts forever, though he’s sure it helps that he’s still fucking his fingers into your g-spot as much as your tightness will allow. 
He knows you’re done when you whimper brokenly and pull away from his touch, your hand reaching back to hold his wrist in place so he doesn’t follow you. He decides to let you catch your breath, sliding off the bed to shed his shorts and wipe his hand off on a towel, bringing it with him so he can spread it out under you like he should have done before. 
You’re on your side when he returns, and he climbs back onto the mattress before carefully tugging at your shoulder and hip, pulling you to rest on your back and waiting for you to look at him. 
When your eyes blink open, they’re teary and dazed, and you watch as he gathers a couple pillows, weakly lifting your hips just enough for him to slide them under you and lay the towel out on top of them. He’s gentle as he sets his hands on the backs of your knees and pushes your legs up, the angle making it easier for you to keep them tucked to your chest when your hands replace his. 
He can tell your head is full of clouds by the way you gaze at him, and he attempts to bring you some clarity by asking, “Remember what I said before?” 
You think for a second, your lips pouting as you try to recall, and he can’t resist leaning down over you and pressing his mouth to yours, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before he soothes the sting with his tongue. 
When he pulls away, it seems to come to you, and your eyes clear up just a bit as you respond, “You said you’d breed me full if I came for you.” 
“Good, baby, that’s right. So what do you think I’m going to do now?” He asks, sitting back up on his knees and shuffling closer to lay his aching cock on your wet pussy, just barely grinding against you. 
“You’re gonna-,” you take in a halting breath. “You’re gonna breed me?��� 
“Yeah, honey,” he nods with a hungry smirk, shifting his hips back enough to line himself up before pressing forward a few inches and popping the head of his cock inside of you. “I’m gonna fuck you full of my cum, until it’s dripping out of you. And then I’m gonna fuck it back in, and fill you up even more. Until it takes.” 
You whimper from deep in your throat, pressing your lips together and readjusting your grip on your legs, your eyes darting down to stare yearningly at his cock. 
“Do you want that?” He whispers, working himself in as slowly as he can manage, teasing both you and himself. 
You just nod, but he wants to hear you say it, needs to hear it from your own lips. 
“Tell me then.”
“I- I want you to fill me up with your cum, fuck a baby into me, please.” 
He sinks the rest of his cock inside of you, covering your hands with his and spreading your legs wider, pushing them into your chest and resting his weight on them as he draws back and snaps forward. 
He’s not gentle now, and he’s definitely not slow, his hips smacking into your ass as he thrusts forcefully into you, his grunts of exertion soon joining the cries escaping you. You’re staring up at him with stars in your eyes, your fingers tight on your thighs beneath his and your pussy fucking flawless around him, and he’s never been so in love. 
That’s a thought he has constantly but he means it every single time, his devotion to you endless and all consuming. 
His appetite for you is voracious enough to rival it; the need, the sheer greed that he feels when it comes to you stripping him down to his basest desires. He’s only human in the end, and nothing could be more human than the urge to love you, to fuck you, to breed you, to keep you. He knows you’re his already but beyond that ring on your finger, there’s one other thing that could show the world you belong to each other, and that includes pumping you so full of his cum, it sticks. 
He’s getting close already just thinking about it, and the way you’re clenching and fluttering around him doesn’t help in the slightest. He wouldn’t mind breaking this early though, not when it means he can just get hard again and fuck his cum even deeper into you. 
“Joshie,” you whine in the voice that means you’re inches away from the edge, and he feels his body respond, his heavy balls drawing up tight and his cock hardening further within you. 
“Cum whenever you want, baby. I’m not stopping anytime soon,” he vows darkly, fully intent on keeping you in this bed and on his dick for the rest of the day. Maybe for the rest of his life. 
You shudder at his words, gasping when he shifts his hips and changes the angle, the head of his cock now bullying right into your g-spot. He can’t hit as deep like this but he knows it’ll be enough to unravel you, and that’s exactly what he wants. 
He grins wickedly when you start to ripple around him, knowing the waves of your orgasm are beginning to overtake you, and when it’s at its peak, he sinks in deep and lets you carry him with you. He groans roughly at the feeling of your undulating walls milking his cock, relief and bone deep satisfaction filling him as he fills you. 
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down, fucking you through the sensitivity and burying his cum deeper inside of you. You buck against him in overstimulation, crying out his name with tears in your voice, and he feels his cock twitch and get harder, your pussy like a molten velvet vise around him. 
An hour and two more loads pass by in a blur, every minute melting into the next as he ruts into you, barely pulling back enough to get any friction but grinding into your sweet spot to keep you pliant. He thinks he might’ve fucked you dumb, no words escaping your parted lips and no thoughts behind your glassy eyes. You’re still holding your legs up though, and that’s how he knows you’re present enough to hear him. 
“Said I would fuck you full, didn’t I, baby?” He laughs breathily, his eyes trained on the sight of his cock thrusting into you, the combination of your arousal and his cum seeping out around him in bursts. “I think you’re pretty fucking full.”
You mumble something but he doesn’t catch it, and he shifts your legs onto his arms and leans down, bracing his hands on the bed to hold himself up. “What was that, honey?”
“Not enough,” you gasp out, releasing your thighs to wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s not enough, Joshie, I want more.”
Your words blend together but he hears them all the same, and a jolt of desire surges through him, traveling down his spine and ending in his cock. He gets his legs under him, trapping you in a mating press so he can put more power behind his hips as his strokes get deeper, longer, your fingernails digging into his neck with every thrust of his aching dick. 
“I can give you one more, baby, I’ll give you whatever- whatever you want,” he groans raggedly, his vision blurring and his hips stuttering as he nears the edge for what he fears may be the last time. You clench and squeeze and flutter around him, whimpering, “Please, Joshie, breed me,” and that’s it for him. 
This time when he cums, it’s enough to steal his voice, his breath, his thoughts. It’s blinding, the pleasure, but that just means he feels everything. He feels you falling to pieces on his cock, he feels the warmth of the sunset on his back, he feels his heart racing in his chest. He feels his cum filling you again, replacing what he’s fucked out, and more than anything, he feels satiated, like there’s nothing left to give and nothing left to take. 
He all but collapses into you, shifting to rest his knees on the bed and dropping your legs from his arms, his face buried in your neck as he trembles and gasps for air. Your cunt is still hugging him tightly, and he winces at the sensitivity of his spent cock but doesn’t pull out, can’t pull out, not when he knows that all of his hard work will go to waste as soon as he does. 
You run gentle fingers through his salty hair, your chest slowly rising and falling against his, and his body starts to grow heavy, exhaustion weighing him down and the comfort of your pussy keeping him warm. 
He’s asleep before the golden light of the sun fades from the sky. 
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“Joshua, with everything we said, I have to ask… Have you changed your mind about kids?” You ask softly, your back to his chest and your body between his legs as you laze in the massive hotel bath together. 
He presses his lips to your neck and thinks, only for a second, before responding, “No, I’m happy with our life. I don’t need anything but you.”
You let out a sigh of relief and turn in his arms, resting your cheek on his shoulder and tucking your legs up, your knees just barely out of the water. He scoops some up and pours it over you, not wanting you to get cold. 
“Good, I feel the same way.”
“Love you,” he murmurs into your hair, kissing your crown and rubbing his hand up and down your back. 
“I love you,” you whisper in return. “The breeding kink was hot though, let’s keep that?” 
“Oh yeah, baby, for sure.”
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AN: for @thatgirlfromwindsor and these anons 💖
Seventeen Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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Halloween prompts year 2 day 29
Dont get him wrong, Danny had some big feelings about finding out his mom had cheated on his dad. He had even bigger feeling about the divorce and the whole shipping him off to live with his bio dad.
He wasn't going to lie. The new school was actually really nice and he had made friends quickly, though at first it was tough to weed out the ones who just wanted to get close to the Wayne family name and not him as a person. He didn't get to chat with Tucker and Sam a whole lot due to thier schedules but he and Jazz always made time for eachother.
His life had surprisingly taken a massive upturn. Vlad had been arrested soon after Danny warned the Waynes about him, making Danny believe either his dad it felt wierd calling him that but da-Jack made it perfectly clear he should never call him that was Batmans sugar daddy or somthing or maybe the Waynes got kidnapped so much that the bats bugged the whole place. Danny hoped not, he had done a whole karaoke thing with Jazz during thier video call the other night and he really didn't want anyone to hear thier shared cat screeching.
Jazz was super happy to learn Danny had joined the Volleyball team and Astronomy club. He used to play Volleyball in middle school and played defense a lot. He was even the best on the team but he stopped playing after one too many times of his parents forgetting to show up or causing a ruckus whenever they thought a ghost was nearby.
But it was better now
The portals were shut down by the bats. The GIW where expertly obliterated from existence. His parents are getting court mandated mental help. There are no more ghosts. No more ghost hunters.
And no need for Phantom
Danny doesn't think he's ever felt this free. He could go out to eat with friends with his way too big allowance that his...dad gives him and he didn't have to worry about having to ditch them to go fight a bad guy. He could eat dinner with a family who was a little awkward but surprisingly open to him and the food was delicious and didn't attack him. He could actually sleep at night and feel safe doing it. His siblings liked spending time with him and getting to learn anout him and thier "bonus sister" Jazz.
He had no reason to use his powers.
Until the grandfather clock he was walking past swung open like a door and he locked eyes with Nightwing coming out of it. They just stared at eachother before Danny just said, "I don't want to know which one your dating. Just know I have a bat and im willing to use it in the most ungodly of ways." And walked back to his room.
He wouldn't be a superhero, but he was willing to be a supervillian to protect his new family. Or in this case make sure Nightwing, a rumored playboy, knew better than to go breaking hearts in this household.
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anantaru · 6 months
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DAY 24 — BRAT TAMING
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — kazuha, alhaitham
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, brat taming, they're mean lmao, petnames used: love, smart girl, oral (male! receiving), cockwarming
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𖧡 — KAZUHA
coruscating with a hot prickle underneath your cheeks and your arousal oozing out of you, kazuha wastes no time before he pulls your mouth back into his lower area with your lips open wide to receive his pulsating cock again— more so feel it stick and melt to your tongue so sinfully as you drag the roughness of your wet muscle against the underside of his dick, tickling the buzzing veins.
"i— ah, hardly notice anything," kazuha admits bluntly and chuckles as his fingers comp over the back of your head, "you need to try harder, i fear," what a distinguished way your boyfriend had with words, which, in any other case he does but not now, not when he was attempting to teach you a lesson.
and you reach in between his thighs at his blatant sentence, to properly take his balls in your warm palm— giving him two good squeezes as he instantly swallows back a groan at the harsh treatment you added onto him, being aware that he was exceptionally sensitive right there.
well, granted, this entire ordeal was placed on you for a reason— because sometimes you just cannot help yourself but be a little, mean brat to your handsome boyfriend, until his habitual and subdued personality gets spiked up with a dangerous notion affiliated with lust, desire, and the clear thought of putting you in your place.
"maybe if you, fuck— wouldn't have been so mean, my love," kazuha pauses, roughly curving his palms against your cheeks so he could softly brush his thumbs over the skin, breathing out a whispery moan when he could feel himself shallowly slip in and out of your hot mouth, "i wouldn't have to use such words on you."
you whine in attempt to spell out a witty comeback but are only being crowded with his fat tip grazing over the back of your throat— you hiccup and babble, perceiving him entirely, his slightly bitter taste penetrating your nostrils as your body grew to smell like his luscious fragrance.
kazuha shifts in his seat a little before pushing his hips up your flexed throat to catch you off guard— yet, little does he realize at last, when he fucks your throat and uses your mouth as he pleases, with your saliva and his pre dribbling all over your chin and his boxers, that in reality, you will never stop engaging in this sort of play and be all about the drama, so perfect when you act like a little brat, so kazuha could use your mouth again, no need to urge you on for anything when you're practically salivating at the taste of his salty cum on your tongue.
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𖧡 — ALHAITHAM
"don't flatter yourself too much, i'm not even fully hard yet,"
whenever you were acting out— attempting to push and pull against alhaitham's usual stoic and unbothered demeanor, you are most likely defeated right away, yet do not be mistaken because, the moment you do achieve to, quote on quote, step onto the wrong tile, he almost needs to profess the power he held over you.
you take a sharp intake of air before exhaling it out with a tremble the moment he first sinks into you— although much to your surprise, he wouldn't move, he wouldn't even kiss you, only focusing on your sizzling hole swallowing him in like a wet suction pulling on his shaft.
"hey!" you whine, before slipping your hands around his neck so you could kiss him yourself, only to be met with alhaitham quickly turning his head so you'd clumsily hit his ear instead, "w-what's up with you?"
it's in a juncture like this where everything suddenly comes crashing down on your complete frame and holds you hostage against your will, the split second you can remember it in a spur of a moment, vividly, when you were oh so graciously disturbing his peace earlier, just because you felt like it.
"i'm not moving tonight," he proclaims, a little aloof and standoffish but holding your gaze with unapproachable eyes before he repeatedly slaps the plush flesh of your ass, making you squeak out.
"you do it yourself," alhaitham wasn't really interested in a heart-wrecking apology from you, truthfully, he had already planned out and structured how this night would end, obviously in his favor because you cannot beat him— he stops when you're begging him, full of brimming tears, to make you please please cum because you just cannot hold it in anymore!
"i can't," you attempt to move your hips but are being met with one large hand pinning you back down the mattress.
alhaitham was torturing you, that's what it was, at least in your eyes, and you dig into his scalp and ruffle his hair, aiming to make him kiss you again (and failing) before scraping your nails around his ears, where he was a little sensitive, yet not even that worked out so you ultimately go down to his neck— your lips curved up into a sweet and apologetic pout, hoping he'd show mercy tonight.
"okay, i'm sorry, i went to far, i'm sorry sorry sorry.." you mewl out in a frantic exhale, the heaviness of his throbbing erection melting within your walls was maddening, and it hurt, a mild pain battering your pulsing cunt as your pussy flutters greedily around his girth, wishing to chance his mind.
alhaitham noticed how you were glistening all over his dick, he feels how your cunt squeezes him experimentally too, but it's more than just wanting you to please him tonight and make it about him, which in actuality, the scribe didn't give a single damn about his pleasure— but it's about obedience, just how it's found in dogs following their owner, and instead of using words, he uses his thick cock stretching you out until you're whining and loosing all of your witty responses, both of you fusing and becoming one.
but that agonizingly sizzling tension in between your squished bodies, ugh, it was surrounding you, your soul and mind, it was beginning to simply steal your breath away.
"but you're such a smart girl, right? always having a comeback to everything, so try harder."
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©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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writingwithcolor · 4 months
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Diversity Win: Is "Crazy Rich" POC Representation Necessarily Empowering?
sodapopsculptor asked:
I’m writing a story with two sets of protagonists: A trio with a Black girl, a Latino, and a Vietnamese-American boy who all come from middle-upper class to ridiculously rich families, and a pair of white working-middle class sisters. They’re all heroes of this story. I’ve seen way too many rich white people and poor poc people in fiction, and I’m kinda getting sick of it, but I’m worried that by having the poc kids be rich and the white girls not so much, I’ll be reinforcing the idea that poc somehow rule the world. The only time the rich kids use their status as leverage is when the Asian threatens to sic his cop dad on a bully (race unstated but I imagined him as white) picking on a freshman, and during the Black girl’s birthday party, when she pays the biggest jock there fifty bucks (And later says offhandedly that it was just what she had in her pocket) to chase off a creep hitting on her.
OP, have you ever seen the “diversity win!” meme before?
I understand that your motivation for these narrative choices is to give POC a chance, if you will, to be the rich characters. But it is evident from this ask that you have not asked yourself what this entails. I want to ask you to critically examine the race and class intersections you’re creating here, as well as these kids’ roles in oppressive systems.
You explain that these rich POC are heroes and only have righteous reasons for leveraging their power.
But is your Black girl character aware of the potential disciplinary and/or legal consequences her jock accomplice might face while she has the resources to keep her hands clean? Are you?
Is your Asian character aware of how much of an abuse of power it is to “sic” a cop on someone, and the sheer amount of harm a criminal record or incarceration does to a juvenile with behavior issues? Are you?
So you want to put POC in positions of power for #representation.
Does it resonate with the group you’re representing?
Do you research and portray the unique ways race, ethnicity, class, and majority vs. minority status come together?
Or are you putting these characters in oppressive hegemonic roles for the sake of a power fantasy, on behalf of a group you're not even in?
To your question, you're not reinforcing the idea that "POC rule the world" because such a generalized belief does not exist. Instead, you're reinforcing:
The idea that society has “winners” and “losers.”
The idea that the problem with disproportionately powerful people is the lack of “equal opportunity” as opposed to the power imbalance to begin with.
The idea that those in oppressive positions of power need only have the right intentions to justify their use of it.
To be clear: that is not to say that you can't have jerk aristocrat billionaire millionaire crazy rich POC. Evil or mean rich characters are fun! I have some myself! You can even have rich characters who are gentle-hearted and well-intentioned, but you have to know the ways in which they’re privileged and decide how aware of that your characters are. That’s no problem.
But if you think that wealthy and powerful POC would have the same values and priorities as their poorer counterparts, you’re deluding yourself. There’s a reason why the quote “power corrupts” exists. There’s a reason why no matter where you look on the globe, there are historical dictators and tyrants.
If you want bratty rich POC who lack regard for the consequences of their actions, because you want bratty rich characters, great! If you want them because it would be uplifting or empowering representation? You’re doing it for the wrong reason.
~ Rina
I fully agree with Rina, and truly want to emphasize the last paragraph.
If you want bratty rich POC who lack regard for the consequences of their actions, because you want bratty rich characters, great! If you want them because it would be uplifting or empowering representation? You’re doing it for the wrong reason.
I don't think you need to aim to subvert or purposely make all the BIPOC rich and powerful and the white people poor and suffering. Add diversity and include upper class rich and class privileged BIPOC, sure thing! And you can avoid your fears of intentional subversion message by including rich and powerful white characters as well, even if they're not the focus of your story. Just their existence helps. You could also include middle-class characters of Color as well.
More reading: Black in upper-class society
~Mod Colette
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visionsofmagic · 7 months
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day 16: bruce wayne [power play]
࿓ synopsis • the game you play takes a different route in which you try to dominate him, but, he doesn’t allow you.
―❦ nsfw, dominance/submission, roughness, licking, marking, wrist holding, short, f!reader, brat!reader, riding, begging, pet names, ‘is all I guess? • 0.7k • he's my favorite dc character and the idea popped into my mind because he's looking so dom! enjoy! [kinktober m.]
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“who’s in control now, love?” he asks as he pounds into you, hands holding yours above your head as your back arches onto his bare chest, filthy voices leaving you one by one since it’s too much to keep silent – he’s trying to gain it from you after all, wanting to make you scream his name louder with each of his deep, hungry thrusts that hit the exact spot that drives you crazy in every time.
the question is a reference to what you said before being in this situation; leaning down on the mattress, wrists inside his palms, breasts bouncing shamelessly and even hitting his chest from time to time, legs wide open, pussy soaking wet enough to make the white color of the sheets goes grey because of how much it is, legs shaking yet still having the strength to stay on his back, hugging him from there only to bring his body closer to yours as if it’s possible – as if he’s not already deep buried inside you, fucking you roughly because he has something to prove to you – to dig it into your pathetic mind as he said before.
he’s angry – a little bit, with the lust that flows inside his veins until it reaches the tip of his thick cock – using it to shove it into you mercilessly.
the feelings are there due to you – being a little brat and trying to take control while riding him a while ago, teasing about how his dick dripping, pale face is full of redness, breathtaking with a rapid way, and even sweating – only you can make the vigilante sweat like this – the reasons why he is rough now.
with the power you had at that moment, your body moved without your mind acknowledging it, making you look down at him, taking control, riding him so slowly to make him beg for you to move, to fuck him, yet, bruce who knows you better than anyone else, including you, understood what you were trying to do, especially when your hand tried to hold his neck – with sudden movement, he gripped your wrists, turning your body over, hovering above you as he mocked you – showing the dominance he has on you – not yours – his.
power play ended when he began to fuck you ruthlessly.
his question remains unanswered – he doesn’t seek one either, he just enjoys watching how messy you’re getting under him, ready to beg more when his hips slow down – and nearly stops as he fucks you leisurely, taking his time, and even having a ghost smirk on his face. 
and when you look at him, your vision is blurry yet witnessing his lustful expression, representing of the dominant side he has on you, you know he waits for you to beg – to cry. weren’t it for your aching pussy that is in need to be fucked by bruce, you would stay still, yet, you have no brain at all – only a greedy wet pussy and passion mixed with love.
“bruce –“ his name comes out of your parted lips on its own – pure instinct. “ohh – bruce!”
“yes, my pretty slut, what’s wrong?”
“move – aghh – please, move already! nee – ohh – need you to move!”
leaving your wrists free, his hands positioned on your hips, holding it strongly, ready to bounce into you with all his strength, his weight can be felt on you, sending a different sense of both pain and pleasure at the same time.
“look who’s begging now –“ he teases, kneeling down until his lips touch your neck, biting it – licking it so that he can leave marks on you- bigger and more efficient ones than yours that you left on his entire body before he took control. he enjoyed being under you, yet, the delight of having you under him is far greater than it. “tell me – that I am the one who is in control over you, not you over me,” he lowers down, licking and kissing your exposed body gladly, reaching until its tongue travels on your hardened breasts. 
pushing you against his hot tongue, you answer, feeling his cock leaving your pussy slowly, “you! bruce – ohh – you!” “good girl.” he says lastly, then, pushing his hip further, the cock fills your warm walls entirely with a powerful thrust and he doesn’t stop – he thrusts into you with a great pace and power that you no longer remember the power play – letting him do whatever he wants to do with you until he’s satisfied.
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❦ tagging: @lilvampirina & @snowprincesa1 & @dookiemeshibear & @chloee0x0 *lots of kisses!*
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norrizzandpia · 8 months
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Used (LN4)
Summary: A bet can do more harm than good.
Warnings: i dont think ive ever wrote something this angsty, its very sad so be warned, lando is a back stabbing bitch but hes stupidly in love, literally stupidly, insecurities, loss of virginity, major betrayal, sad ending but there will be a part 2 bc as we all know i cant do sad endings
Note: im very sorry for this one
Word count: somewhere in the 4k’s
When Oscar got into F1, Y/n promised herself she wouldn’t follow her brother around the paddock like a lost puppy. With cameras all around and prying eyes, she wanted to come across as independent and strong rather than pathetic and small. For a while, that translated, but it got lonely after a few months. Missing her brother as he was busy doing interviews or creating connections, and losing her parents in the mass of people, she always found herself alone. That was until Lando fully came into the picture. He hadn’t wanted to overstep boundaries with his teammate by befriending his sister, but the boy couldn’t resist when he continued to catch glimpses of her struggle to fit in. She was too young to hang out with any of the racers’ girlfriends, yet too old to hang out with the children of powerful people. She was only 19, still figuring out what life was, why she was here, and what she was meant to do. So, overcoming his own anxieties, Lando approached the girl on a rainy Sunday when the race had been postponed because of the wet weather.
“Can I sit here?” He had said, smiling lightly at her as her head slowly moved up to make eye contact with the popular driver.
She had moved over on the bench, nodding quickly as if she was afraid any time in which he had to wait would set him off.
At first, things were awkward with Lando not knowing anything about her and Y/n being too shy to form any words in front of the boy she thought was cute. Nonetheless, after 20 minutes, words were spoken, and conversing became second nature.
Gradually, Lando felt Y/n warm up to him as she realized the driver was someone she found solace in.
Her first friend in Formula One.
Everyone in the paddock began to take note of the budding friendship quickly evolving between the sister and the driver. While people were happy to see a new connection growing, Oscar was weary. It was no secret Lando had a track record of sleeping around, pretending to be close to women for only one night in order to get what he wanted. The women in question always understood the pattern and never found offense or distaste with it, but Y/n wasn’t that mature, Oscar knew. His sister was still naive and her lack of attention toward media outlets played into her lack of luck as she didn’t realize Lando could be around for all the wrong reasons. Oscar did, though, and he made it incredibly clear to the British boy that any impure advances on his sister were not, and never would be, welcomed.
“You pull any weird shit and I’ll have your head.” He said sternly to Lando in a tone that no one had ever heard come out of the Australian before.
“I’m not going to, Oscar. I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but we’ve realized we just have so much in common. There’s nothing else behind it, I promise. I just like your sister’s company. That’s it.” He reassured.
And, for a while, that was true. Lando saw nothing else behind their friendship, however, that soon began to change. He noted the way he became so comfortable being touchy with her or giving her impromptu compliments about how pretty she looked that day. Being experienced in that realm of life, Lando also noted the way her cheeks blushed ever so slightly under his eye, and he couldn’t ignore the way his insides twisted at her subtle happiness over him.
They danced around each other and their feelings for some time until a drunken night changed everything. Lando had invited his friends from DJing over, one of those people being Martin Garrix. The men had laid themselves out on Lando’s luxurious couch with beers in hand, chugging away as they gossiped like 13-year-old girls.
The conversation came easily with these people as Martin interrupted and changed the topic to something a bit more interesting, “Lando, I gotta ask. What’s going on with you and Oscar’s sister?”
At this point in their relationship, Lando was still in the stage of denying any deeper feelings for her, “Nothing? What do you mean?”
Martin shook his head as the boys around him knowingly eyed each other, “Come on, you two are definitely sleeping together.”
“No, we aren’t.” He said immediately, not understanding why he had become so invested in protecting Y/n’s image.
Martin’s eyebrows furrowed, “So, you two aren’t sneaking around behind the brother’s back?”
“No,” Lando said firmly, but his defiance on the subject proved to worsen his situation as Martin set his beer down and looked at him with a mischievous look.
“Then, I have a proposition for you.” His arms rested on his knees as he leaned forward.
“What?” Lando mirrored his stance.
“Obviously, you know I have that really big gig next year at The Cabin in New York.” Lando nodded, “Well, if you can get Y/n to fall in love with you, maybe even sleep with her, I don’t know, then you can play it. Play the set at The Cabin.” Martin’s idea made Lando’s eyes bulge out of his head and his body leap from the couch.
The alcohol in his system proved to do its job by impairing his judgment as he didn’t ask questions or try to understand why Martin would get off on playing with someone in that way. All the boy did was scream his agreeance and then excitement for playing at The Cabin in New York.
“YOU ASKED MY SISTER OUT!?” Oscar had screamed in fury at Lando 2 days later.
Putting his hands up, Lando tried to talk down an aggravated teammate, “Listen, Oscar. Listen,” He pleaded, “I didn’t see it coming, really. But, I…” The words felt sour in his mouth as the guilt for what he was about to embark on set in, “I didn’t expect to fall for her, okay? I just did and I hope you’ll trust me enough that I’m not going to play her like I do the others. I wouldn’t hurt you like that and I especially wouldn’t hurt her like that.”
His words seemed to calm the blonde boy as he looked Lando in the eye, trying to decipher if he was being truthful. And, even though he wasn’t, Oscar found Lando’s spewed sentences to be genuine.
“Fine, but, I’m serious, Lando,” Oscar shoved a finger into Lando’s chest, “if you pull anything, I won’t hesitate to find crazy dirt on you and blackmail McLaren into firing you. Trust me, I’m smart enough to ruin your whole career.”
His threats went in Lando’s right ear and out the other because he found his British accent flooding the room they stood in as he said, “I promise, nothing will happen.”
“Is there any specific you want for tonight, my love?” Lando whispered against her skin as they lay in his bed, tangled together after a busy morning of meetings and conversations discussing their announcement of their relationship to the public with McLaren’s PR teams.
She breathed against the crook of his neck as she toyed with his shirt, “No, just excited to go out with you.”
He chuckled as he breathed the scent of her shampoo in, “Me too, baby.”
After nearly 3 months, the couple had fallen easily into the norms of a romantic relationship. Having not yet slept together or fully opened up and shown the other dark parts of themselves, they had a long way to go, but, at that moment, the two were content.
Content with having casual dates, hidden under baseball caps and sunglasses to keep from someone seeing them and outing their newfound connection. Content with the star gazing they had scheduled a few weeks back for that night, fulfilling something Y/n had mentioned she wanted to try.
They found themselves lost in the sky, weeds surrounding them as they lay side by side on a thin blanket to separate them from the rough grass beneath. In a quiet moment with Y/n’s fingers pointing out constellations to him, Lando sunk into himself.
His past few months with her had proven to be a lot more interesting than he had expected. Pretending to be in love with her started to feel less like a forced feeling and more like something he had been destined to feel for her and her only his whole life. The guilt ate away at him, but the love that was slowly consuming him for her trumped it every time.
“Lan? You still here?” Her sweet voice cut through his thoughts, making his head turn to meet her eyes.
He smiled at her, “Yeah, sorry, just lost track of my thoughts, I think.”
Her hand trailed up and down his stomach, “You okay?”
“Mhm, just don’t want to leave.” He nodded, looking at her so she could understand that he didn’t just want to leave this moment, he didn’t want to leave her.
She cracked a small smile, “Oh, me neither.”
A beat of silence went by before she sat up and turned to look down at him, “When did you realize you wanted more than just a friendship between us?”
This question was something he was anticipating and absolutely dreaded because, if he were to tell the truth, he would have to tell her she was a bet with his friends and that was the only reason he had been pushed to confront his underlying feelings for her. Although, wanting his gig, Lando tried to tell a white lie.
“I don’t really know when it happened. I just know that one day I really liked talking with you and the next I just liked you.” Simple and sweet, he thought. That was the trick to getting away with this.
Her blush complicated things and the butterflies in his stomach over her smile laid out the strong counterargument to his mind.
“Hm.” She said as she lowered herself back to the ground.
Lando’s curiosity took over as he asked what she meant by the ominous sound.
“Just that, I didn’t expect you to like me. I mean, you’re past is a lot of picture-perfect models and well-rounded, intellectual, impressive women. Not a 19-year-old kid whose major is undecided as she enters into her second year of college.” Her words struck a deep cord within his chest that he couldn’t not play.
“Is that all you think you are?” He was complicating the situation further, he understood that, but to think Y/n didn’t understand how amazing she was was something he couldn’t ignore.
She shrugged her shoulders, “Well, Lan, what else would I be?”
He was internally shocked at her obliviousness to her own perfection, “‘What else would I be?’ Y/n, what? You’re not just some lost college kid. You’re Oscar’s best friend and the person I would call first no matter what the situation. You’re so much to everyone around you. How can you not see that?”
Her voice came out trembly as she stared at the stars, “It’s hard when your brother’s constantly outshined you your whole life. My parents never realized they had another kid when I was growing up. It was all about Oscar and his races, his success. I never lived up to anything to actually make them notice me.”
His heart broke for the hurt little girl she was clearly entrusting him with, “Y/n, look at me.” His hands wrapped around her jaw to turn her head to the side, their eyes meeting in an intense stare, “Oscar could never outshine you and the fact that you’ve gone your whole life thinking anyone, let alone your brother, has the ability to take other’s attention from you is preposterous. You are the first thing that catches people’s eye when they walk into a room. You’re intoxicating with the way you carry yourself. You’re not just a confused child, you’re you. You are your best friend’s safe space, Oscar’s go-to person to brag about, you’re my favorite person, and, even though you might not think so, your parent’s pride and joy. You’re so many things, darling. Just because you aren’t an F1 driver doesn’t mean you don’t mean something. If it means anything, to me, you mean everything.”
His forehead rested against hers as he whispered the words to her, her eyes closed against his skin as she took in what she had longed to hear since she was 7. Lando’s thumbs rested against her cheeks, collecting the soft tears as they fell from her eyes.
“Sorry,” She whispered as she tried to back away from his hold, apologizing for the wetness that was pooling around his fingers.
However, Lando was quick to pull her back in, “No, don’t apologize. Letting me in isn’t something I’m afraid of, Y/n. It’s something I’m grateful to experience.”
She nodded, at a loss for words as she reveled in his gentleness. His hold on her tightened as he pushed her against his chest, whispering words into her ear.
Words that spoke truths he believed deep within himself and words that complexified the bet he had made.
“So, tell us what’s going on with you and the hotshot driver!” Y/n’s best friend, Paige, exclaimed at breakfast weeks after Lando and she had gone public.
Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, “Nothing! We’re just together. It’s not that serious.”
Paige reeled back in her seat, sending her a questionable look, “Really? ‘Not that serious’? Are you kidding me? He took your virginity!”
“Shh!!! Shh!!” Y/n jabbed a finger in her friend's face in response to the loud volume accompanied by the exposition of her situation.
“Sorry!” Paige squeaked, looking around to make sure no one had heard her, thankfully no one had. She continued, “Does he know?”
“That it was my first time? Yeah.” Y/n informed as Paige smiled triumphantly at the girl across from her.
“So, was he sweet? Did you like it?” Paige fired off the questions.
Y/n blushed, being taken back to the night before where Lando had assured her he would be gentle.
He had.
“Yes, he was very sweet. We got back from the date and decided to watch a movie. During it, we started kissing and then, you know, one thing led to another, and…”
“You told him.” Paige finished her sentence.
Y/n waved her head slowly to the left and right, “Well, it started getting intense, so I just let him know. I tried to be pretty nonchalant about it, come off like it wasn’t that big of a deal, but the moment he heard it, he was telling me how much he cared about it.”
Paige’s eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean?”
“He just wanted to talk about it, wanted to make sure I wasn’t rushing into anything and that I actually wanted to do this with him. He told me how he didn’t want to screw anything up and how he really wanted it to go well for me, so if I needed him to change anything, I could just let him know. He was really big on communication through the whole thing and, honestly, it made things so much easier. And, then, after we were done, I got up to leave, but he acted like I had just said he wouldn’t ever win a world championship, and then insisted on me staying. Paige, he was so perfect.”
The two girls giggled together as they dug into their food, “So, you’ve let him in completely then?”
Y/n giggled, not having a clue of what was to come, “After he saw me completely naked and I told him about my deepest insecurities? Yeah, I have. I just hope this doesn’t backfire in my face.”
Lando was Y/n’s first love. There was no doubt about that. So, surprising him at the Silverstone Grand Prix sounded like a good idea. However, as she and Oscar stood outside his Driver’s Room door, accidentally eavesdropping on his conversation with Martin, the world proved to her that being there entirely was a horrible idea.
“Mate, I think it's gone too far. I want to back out of the bet.” Lando’s muffled voice sounded through the wall as Oscar and Y/n glanced at each other, matching confusion on their faces.
“No way, Lando. We made a deal. I don’t want to do this gig, I’ve done it so many times before it’s boring now, but for someone like you who has never done it, it’ll be fun.” Martin pleaded.
Y/n could practically hear Lando shake his head, “No, Martin. We should’ve never made it in the first place. I don’t want to play at The Cabin. Dating her for a bet is so cruel. I should’ve stopped it so long ago. I should’ve told you ‘no’ immediately.”
She didn’t even really comprehend what his words meant for a few minutes. She just stood there, eyes fixed on the door, trying desperately to figure out a way to explain away what he had just revealed.
Oscar’s hand gripped her arm as he watched her realize Lando’s true intent. His lip trembled, trying to keep the tears at bay, as his little sister broke in front of him. Her mouth opened and closed before her eyes watered and her gaze was shooting around the hallway in an attempt to find her brother. The fact that he was right in front of her didn’t translate in her brain, which had been in immediate turmoil once it dawned on her.
“Y/n, I’m right here.” He repeated to her as he slowly coaxed her into his embrace. Blind rage threatened to fill Oscar’s body, wanting nothing more than to storm into Lando’s room and rip him to shreds, but, as his sister quietly sobbed in his arms, he knew she needed him more than his fist needed to collide with Lando’s face.
Fortunately, his room wasn’t too far, so they weren’t seen by anyone as they made their way. The tears never ceased, only intensifying once they found themselves tucked away in the privateness of his own four walls.
“I was a bet?” Her choked sobs fought to silence her, but she continued to repeat the words as if it could cause her confusion to be fixed.
She clutched onto her older brother as she willed herself to go back in time and never step foot in an F1 paddock. Her mind raced as it tried to erase their time together and the love she had for him, the love she still had for him.
Hours after crying so much the tears dried up, Y/n found herself numb as she poured steeped the tea bag into the steaming hot water. No longer caring if she ran into him, she stood in the middle of McLaren’s hospitality, still trying to understand when she went wrong.
When she started loving him in the way that she did now. Even after finding out it was fake, his love for her was fake, she can’t stop the way her heart still beats for him.
The way, even after he had hurt her as badly as he did, she still searched for him in the crowd.
Oscar was off doing an interview, something he begrudgingly went off as he wanted to sit with his sister longer, as she made her walk back to his resting room.
Her attention was on the warm temperature that surrounded her face when she sipped her drink, she didn’t see the man of the hour turn the corner nor did she see the way his gaze landed on her or the way he began running toward her, confused as to why she was here.
“Y/n? Love, what are you doing here? I thought you had a test you couldn’t skip?” His voice forced feelings into her body whether she liked it or not. However, this time instead of feeling suffocating sadness, she felt pure, bewildered rage.
Turning around, she met his eyes, “What set do you think you’ll play at The Cabin?”
Lando’s eyebrows furrowed together at her question as well as the look on her face he wasn’t accustomed to.
“What?” He asked simply, not believing she could know.
She took a step closer to him, letting the betrayal take control, “When you play in New York at The Cabin, Lan,” Her smile was sickly and incredibly fake, “What are you going to play? I was thinking that one remix you have that you said makes the crowd go wild. I mean, it has to be big seeing as you went through so much trouble to get the spot. Ya know, dating me for a bet and all.” She took his silence and blank stare as an invitation to keep going, “Inspiring, really, Lando. The amount of dedication you must have when it comes to being a DJ that you would exploit someone else’s vulnerability, allow them to tell you all the internalized bullshit they’ve struggled with their whole lives, and, then!” She exclaimed, her voice translating ferocity rather than joy, “And then!” She dryly laughed, “Take their virginity just to spice things up! Wow, Lando, you have a certain level of determinedness I think society doesn’t address enough.”
His hand reached out for hers, but she quickly pulled her own back to her chest, looking at him in disgust, “Y/n, let me explain.”
Not wanting to look at his face any longer, she turned around, hightailing it to Oscar’s as she heard Lando follow her.
“Y/n, I’m serious. Please, there’s an explanation. Listen to me, baby. Please, I’m begging you.” He pleaded with her as he continued to reach for her, but he was always just a little too late.
“Y/n, I never meant for it to go this far. I though-” He tried, but Y/n was whirling around and jabbing a finger into his chest as she interrupted him with a fiery gaze.
“You never meant for it to go this far? Really? That’s the best you can give me!? I was lonely and you took advantage of that! You didn’t mean for it to go this far? Are you kidding me? You should’ve never even looked in my direction. You’re sick in the head for knowingly taking my virginity! For taking what was supposed to be something special and eventful, something meaningful, and twisting it into some stepping stone all a part of your grand plan to gain a bigger audience for your hobby! That was mine. That moment, when I allowed a guy I trusted and loved to take something so sacred, was supposed to be something I looked fondly back on. That part of my life, my girlhood, you exploited for your own personal gain. Where the hell do you get off? I trusted you. I told you things about my life, about myself, I’ve never told anyone before, and, what? The whole time it was a bet to you? A task you had to complete in order to turn some tables at a club in a dirty city?”
He stared at her, trying to peer into her soul and tell her all the things he didn’t know how to say, but, with all the hurt he had presented her with, she didn’t see him. She didn’t see the anguish he was going through over his actions catching up with him and abusing someone who was completely innocent. She didn’t see how hard he was trying to tell her he loved her and he always had.
“Y/n, it was never that to me. Please, you have to understand. You’ve always been so much more to me. Y/n, I love you-” Once again, she was shutting him up.
“That’s not love, Lando, and it’s pathetic you think it is.”
With that, she stepped into her brother’s room, closed the door, and locked it. Effectively, shutting Lando out.
For good or for the time being, he didn’t know.
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dailyadventureprompts · 3 months
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Monsters Reimagined: Yeenoghu, Demon Lord of Insatiable Hunger
It's been some years since I did my overhaul on the lore of the gnolls and how they embody the weird de/humanization that goes on with various monsters over d&d's history. Ever since I've had more than a few folks write in asking about how I would handle the default Gnoll God Yeenoghu, who exists in a similar state of "Kill everything that ever existed" to Orcus and a good portion of the game's other late game threats, thematically flat and not really useful for building stories around.
For a while I've avoided doing this post because I thought it might skew a little too close to my personal philosophy, and risk going from simply being influenced by my views to an outright soapbox. I personally hold that despite being part of our nature hunger is the source of the majority of human cruelty, and if society and cooperation are the tools we developed to best fight against the threat of famine, it is fear of that famine that allows the powerful to control society and secure their positions of privilege.
I've also dealt with disordered eating in a prior period of my life, alternating between neglecting my body's needs and punishing myself for needing in the first place. I'm well acquainted with hunger and the hollowing effect it can have, though I'd never claim to know it so well as someone who went hungry by anything other than choice and self hatred.
Learning to love food again saved saved my life. The joy of eating, of feeling whole and nourished, yes, but there was also the joy of making: of experimenting, improving, providing, being connected to a great tradition of cultivation which has guided our entire species.
If I was going to talk about an evil god of hunger, I was going to have to touch on all of that, and now that it's out in the open I can continue with a more thematic and narrative discussion on the beast of butchery below the cut.
What's wrong: Going by the default lore, there's not much that really separates Yeenoghu from any other chaotic evil mega-boss. He wants to kill everything in vicious ways, and encourages his followers to do the same. He's there so that the evil clerics can have someone to pray to because the objectively good gods are on the party's side and wouldn't help a bunch of cannibalistic slavers.
This is boring, we've done this song and dance before, and the only reason that there are so many demon lords/evil gods/archdevils like this is because the bioessentialism baked into the older editions of the game's lore was also a theological essentialism, and that every group had to have their own gods which perfectly embodied their ethos and there was no crossover whatsoever, themes be damned.
Normally I'd do a whole section about "what can be salvaged" from an old concept, but we're scraping the bottom of the barrel right from the inset. Likewise my trick of combining multiple bits of underwritten d&d mythology to make a sturdier concept isn't going to work as most of d&d's other gods of hunger or famine are similar levels of paper thin.
How do we fix it: I want Yeenoghu to be the opposite of the path I found myself on, a hunger so great and so painful that it percludes happiness, cooperation, or even rational thought. Hunger not as a sumptuous hedonistic gluttony but a hollowing emptiness that compels violence and desperation. More than just psychopathic slaughter and gore, it is becalmed sailors drinking seawater to quench their thirst, the urban poor mixing sawdust and plaster into their food because their wages are not enough to afford grain.
This is where we get the idea of Yeenoghu as an enemy of society, not because violence is antithical to society ( I think we've learned by now how structured violence can really be) but because society fundamentally breaks down when it can't take care of the people who provide its foundations. Contrast the Beast of Butchery with one of my other favourite villainous famine spirits: Caracalla the grim trader, who embodies scarcity as a form of profit and control in to Yeenoghu's scarcity as suffering.
Into this we can also add the idea of the hungry dead, ghouls yes but also vampires, anything cursed with an eternal existence and appetites it no longer has the ability to sate. A large number of cultures across the world share the idea that the dead cannot rest while they are starving, which is why we leave offerings of food by their graves or pour out a glass to the ones we lost along the way.
On that topic, there's also a scrap of lore involving Doresain god of ghouls, who has been depicted as an on and off servant of Yeenoghu. Since I'm already remaking the mythology, I'd have Doresain act as a sort of saint or herald for the demon lord, the wicked but still partially reasonable entity who can villain monolog before the feral and all consuming demon god shows up.
Summing it all up: Yeenoghu isn't a demon you wittingly worship, it's a demon that claims you, marks you as its mouthpiece and through you seeks to consume more of the world. It gives you just enough strength to keep on living, keep on suffering, keep on filling that hole in your belly and feed it in turn.
The greatest of these mouthpieces is Doresain, an elf of ancient times who's unearthly hungers elevated him to demigod status. Known as the knawbone king, he dwells within a dread domain of the shadowfell, and is sought out only for his ability to intercede with the maw-fiend's rampages.
Signs: Unnaturally persistent hunger pangs, excessive drool and gurgling stomach noises, the growth of extra teeth in the mouth, stomachs splitting open into mouths.
Symbols: An animal with three jaws, a three tailed flail or spiked whip. A crown of knawed bones (Doresain)
Titles: Beast of butchery, the maw fiend, the knawing god
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risuola · 2 months
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III — GAMBARE, GAMBARE — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN
In the world of crime and blood, Sukuna knows what's off limits. You certainly are one of those things and yet, he's unable to stop thinking of you.
cw: smut, little angst-ish in some places, mafia!au, unprotected sex, a hint of body worshipping, violence, mentions of death, subtle threats, reader discretion is advised — 3,2k words
a/n: third part, thank you so much for support guys! it means the world to me to see how INSANELY big is the tag list now. i literally love y'all~ ❤️ also, just as the first part got inspired by the absolutely menacing quote from our king, it only felt natural to include the famous gambare, gambare (do your best) into this one.
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Sukuna prefers to think of himself as one of significant intelligence. Over the years, during which he ruled over the entire criminal milieu, he proved himself to stand atop of anyone who dared to even think of overturning his jurisdiction. All the exceptionally dumb bold ones that once wished to take the position of a boss from his hands had learned the hard way why troubles with Sukuna Ryomen are the least desirable fate of anyone who bears any volume of oil inside their brains.
It’s not only tactical or business intelligence that he’s priding himself with. It’s also the excessive knowledge about general rules of life that allowed him to comfortably push and pull the edges of what’s right and wrong, bending his own reality to his liking. Now it’s intuitive – he just knows where he can put more pressure and where it’s not worth his time. He knows what to bet his money on and what won’t realistically pay back. And most importantly, up until that point, Sukuna thought he can tell with his eyes closed which people he should consider crossing paths with, what men can be useful whilst he aims to reach his targets and which crowds he shouldn’t mess around with – for various reasons, most of which being just business and inconvenience. Same thing concerns women. Ryomen’s position works like a magnet and not a day passes by without girls, often way too young to even think of him, throwing themselves at him, led by fantasies of money and power veiled in the shades of love. If he wished, he could have a different toy every time the night falls and if he’d be just slightly less trained, he might have fallen for the temptation. But he didn’t.
Sukuna learned it from experience, not exactly his own, but of his pawns, that allowing random women in the proximity of their profession usually leads to catastrophes. Girls get persistent, they grow attached, they fall in love sooner than it’s even logical and then they threat, they blackmail; all of which eventually leads to their deaths because dealing with just barely adults that weaponize tears and screams is something he doesn’t allow in his circle. There were no exceptions, any man bearing similar power to Ryomen knows that there’s no place for romance in the world of death and bones, the one that’s stained in red and sorrow. If there happens to be love, it’s always of people from inside the criminal circle, sharing the same set of broken morals. Mafia should never tie itself romantically with civilians. Especially him, the leader, the menace that he is in the world of misdeed, murder and corruption, knew all too well why he should never, ever, even think of someone from outside of his tale as of anything more than one time plaything. That would be irresponsible, straight up naïve. It would be foolish. He knew all of that and not even once he felt any need to engage into any kind of relationship with someone that he deemed non-profitable to his general targets.
Then why the fuck he kept thinking of you? Why he kept seeing you after what was supposed to be a fun one-time fuck? Why did the taste of your lips and the sweet scent of your skin made him so completely addicted that he couldn’t focus on his own business without his mind wandering to the memory of you at least once an hour? He just liked your body, he told himself every time he thought of sending you a message. You were a good lay, it was purely physical. You did, after all, take his dick like you were born solely for this very purpose. He was meeting you only for sex and it was an accident that some of these meetings began with a dinner. All of the gifts he showered you with were just a form of payment for the service. Sukuna knew much better than to let his emotions take control of him.
“What’s on your mind?” Your quiet voice tore Ryomen out of the realm of his self-criticism. The tone that you spoked with was raspy, the testimony of the rough, throat-fucking he had used you for just few hours prior, and yet, it still somehow flowed with cottony softness, so characteristic to you.
“Nothing important,” he replied bluntly, lowering his gaze to where your face was buried into the broad muscle of his chest; your frame completely hidden in his own, much larger and stronger. It was another night you spent in his house, one of those that began with the reservation in one of Tokyo’s best restaurants that served traditional Japanese cuisine. You showed up in a dress made of dark olive silk, long enough to reach your high-heeled sandals and clinging to your shapes as if it was made to be worn over the divinity that was your body. The long, scandalous slit exposed one of your legs and the thin straps accentuated your shoulders and cleavage just perfectly. It was a dress that he himself bought and ordered to be delivered to you in an expensive box before that day. Now that very same gown was laying somewhere, discarded on the floor in the living room of his mansion.
“Sometimes I feel like you’re plotting my death,” you chuckled against his skin, the vibration of the act made him scoff because both him and you knew that the scenario you offered wasn’t exactly falling into the realm of fiction.
“If I were to kill you, I wouldn’t need to plot it. One bullet is all it would take,” he retorted with calm and despite any logic, instead of creating some distance, instead of running away you hummed at his statement and pressed your lips to the center of his chest.
You were way over fearing Sukuna and his world. The few months that you spend seeing him, you came to terms with the heavy weight of tragic fate that was now resting on your shoulders. It couldn’t end well, you shouldn’t tangle yourself with a man such as him, the path of your normal life should never come even close to the blood tainted one he was walking through. You should have never left the club with him and once you did, you should have run out his house the moment he gave you a chance. Instead of that, you stayed. That night, after the time of Ryomen’s pursue and the unfortunate event with Naoya and his gang, soon turned into two. Then just few more and then many more. The one-night stand evolved into continuous romance and though it was strewn with roses and intimacy, it came also with the realization that the more you see him, the less days you have left. There was no way for someone like you, an outsider, the mere civilian with no mafia bonds whatsoever, to be living a long life. Sukuna has enemies, there are people that want the power he holds and will eventually target you. That is, of course, if he doesn’t kill you himself over time – out of boredom or prevention. You knew a lot, he had told you more than he should.
But you loved him. You had seen him do some pretty dark things that would make most people’s eyes water, and in all honesty, it did the same thing to yours, but then, with you, Sukuna was always protective. You loved the way he always seemed to know just what you needed, the way he read you like an open book and knew just what to say or do to put you at ease. You loved the way he made you feel like the only woman in the world, how he made you feel beautiful, even on the days you felt like a total mess. He was a danger, a threat so deadly you shouldn’t play with it, he was a flame that you were bound to burn yourself on, but he was also the only person in the world you felt so safe around. Ever since you met, he had protected you. Even if his words were harsh and his own deeds rough, he never failed to envelop you in a bubble inside of which nothing and no one could hurt you.
“Oh, how much you’d miss me,” a certain sense of amusement hinted in the tone you used as the sheepish smile stretched your lips. Ryomen acted suddenly, grabbing the tiny thing that was your body and pressing your back to the mattress. His fingers wrapped around the frail of your neck; it wouldn’t take much of his strength to snap it and yet, you seemed rather comfortable with his grip secured around your airways. Over the time you managed to grow enough trust to know he won’t hurt you for no reason. Your lover was a man powerful enough, there was no need for seeding fear in you. You were also smart enough to differentiate the real danger from the playful acts. If Sukuna truly wanted you to be scared, you most definitely would be scared shitless.
“You think so?” His tone dropped an octave as he crawled above you; your bare figure now trapped underneath the weight of his presence. He got your legs between his initially, the heavy shaft of his dick rested over your lower belly as he shifted his hand from your throat down to cup your breasts. Your body seemed to never stop attract him, no matter how many times he touched and tasted it. You looked almost angelic in the dim light of that morning; the remnants of sleep still painted over your features and the only things that disturbed the innocence of your picture were the marks he had left on your plush, velvety skin. Red and angry spots that he sucked onto your flesh adorned the beauty of your frame, ultimately making you his own. “Aren’t you a little too confident?”
“I think I’m confident just enough,” you grinned playfully, smoothing over his hands, one staying on top of his palm on your breast and the other reaching up his arm to touch more of him. There was always a hunger lingering inside of you, you were never completely satiated and even if your body was utterly exhausted, you were always happy to take more. Sukuna made you feel ecstatic, like you were really his only one and though it was an illusion that you chose to believe in, it felt good to imagine yourself as his only care.
“And why would I miss you, huh? Aren’t you only a plaything for me?” The question he asked was meant to sound venomous but the sound of his voice betrayed the lighthearted intention. “Do you think I’ll blink twice when discarding you when I get bored of what you can give me?”
“I don’t think you’ll hesitate,” a chuckle once again shook your chest gently as you watched how Sukuna gently pulled your legs up from underneath him and brought one of your ankles to his face. The kisses he smeared along your shin were delicate, completely contrasting with the threatful impression that he was trying to make. He was worshipping you so openly, it made you blush every time. “But even though I know you wouldn’t think twice before killing me, I also think you’d miss me afterwards.”
Once the tender caresses finished, your calves landed on top of his shoulders as he leaned forward, squeezing a breathy moan out of you as he pushed his length into you to the very base of it, sliding on enough spit that it made the entrance easy. Ryomen learned your body through and through, he knew you can take it, he knew you’re always ready and eager to take him. Even if it’s early, even if it hurts. No matter when and where, if he told you to sit on his dick in the middle of a grocery store, you’d probably do just that and ask no questions. And yet, he knew where the boundaries are. Not once he pushed you when you were feeling bad. Not once he used you when you were not ready. The knowledge he now had about you came from observation.
“I think I would miss you,” he purred, his lips so close that they brushed against yours as he spoke. He’s got you in a mating press, filled to the brim with his bricked-up manhood and completely at his mercy. “You are addicting.”
“So keep me safe,” you whispered, cupping his face and chasing the kiss he was yet to give you. The request caught him slightly off guard. The pleading undertone made his heart clench; a feeling that he’s gone without for a decade at least and though he hated the odd sensation in his chest, he also couldn’t deny the warmth that spread throughout his body.
“You are safe with me,” the reassuring lie he followed with a heavy press onto your lips, sealing his words with his own tongue and silently promising you his protection. A vow that he wished to keep and yet, feared he won’t be able to. But now, it wasn’t important. Now you were here, in his bed, on his dick. Now there was just you and him.
Your dainty fingers found their place in his hair as he began thrusting into you. The new slick that combined with the remnants of the night made his movements easy as he dragged his hips back almost all the way out and then pushed back to the point of his pelvis clashing with the back of your thighs and your ass. The pace he set wasn’t fast. It wasn’t anything of what he’d most often pick, there was no violence intertwined into the melody of his hips. That morning it was sensual, it was deep and just rapid enough to stimulate every sweet spot inside of you. Stroke after stroke he was driving you crazy, he just barely started and already you felt yourself dripping. The filthy, wet sounds filled in the early aura and the muffled moans and whimpers accompanied them.
Sukuna allowed your legs to fall lower from where they were pressed against your chest and you hooked them around his hips. The newly earned access to his neck and shoulders you immediately used by allowing your hands to wander in the area, scratching his skin just to force a low purr from his throat. Every sound he made, you swallowed greedily as the kiss continued. Your tongues were dancing to the fiery rhythm of intimacy.
The coil in your stomach tightened all too quickly, you wished it to give you more time to enjoy what he was willing to give you but no matter how much you wanted your body to calm down, he made it absolutely impossible to achieve. Your veins were running with pure ecstasy and lust, the heated flurry that now was your brain was focused only on him, on the rhythm of his hips, on every sweet little lie that he whispered to you. Ryomen knew how to make you weak, he knew just how to angle his body to hit that one spot, the most sensitive one and you could feel him grinning against your lips. He knew you were close. The delicious squeezes that your cunt did on his girth were enough of a hint to notice and it gave him a sense of pride to be able to make you come undone so easily.
“Just few moments more,” he murmured and you nodded eagerly. Tears prickled in your eyes, gathering along your lash lines like crystals that he wished to kiss away, but was now too engulfed in the taste of your lips to part. His movements got quicker, just a little heavier as he began slamming into you with more force than at the beginning. Mornings tend to rid Sukuna from the ability to last – the ones that he spends with you in his arms, with your naked body pressed against his, unknowingly shifting against his dick for hours. That makes him unable to keep his composure for too long. Sometimes he feels like you strip him of all qualities that he once prided himself in, leaving him bare only to your eyes, with only the most primal needs exposed and he felt good with that kind of freedom.
“…don’t stop, oh god, ‘kuna~”, you were whimpering, arching your back underneath him and squeezing your little hands over his shoulders. “I can’t, I—”
“Oh, you can. Do your best,” Sukuna chuckled, teasing you with such impossible tasks. Your head fell back, your thighs were trembling against his sides and he could tell he’s losing you. You were far too deep in the realm of desire to hear his words; all of your world now came down to what you felt, to how you felt him and Sukuna loved your blissed out state. He loved the way he was the one to push you so far over the edge that you wouldn’t notice if the world was ending. But what he loved above that, was how you were gripping onto him; holding him tightly, pulling him closer as if you never wanted him to move away, as if he was everything you needed. And he was.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered against your throat, painting the skin over there with wet trails of kisses and new, red marks – the ones gentle enough to fade in a matter of hours. You moaned something incoherent. “Cum for me,” he allowed, not even sure if you’re registering his words. It had to be unconscious; the way your brain caught his voice between the blurry lines of everything else.
Your climax hit you like a rock; his name was slipping over your tongue continuously, so sweet and breathless that Sukuna was once again reassured that he never wants to hear anyone else calling him. Your walls were squeezing his throbbing length, he twitched and flexed inside you, groaning with satisfaction and before he allowed himself to come, he pushed himself up. As he sat on his heels, he pulled you with him; your body now on top of him and he used his hands to guide your hips up and down his dick. You wrapped yourself around him, finding a safe space for your face right where his neck connects with his muscular shoulder and all he needed to feel the bliss was the sensation of your teeth sinking into his skin.
White seed painted your insides as he shot it as deeply as he could reach with you on top of him. Few more moves, few more groans and you could feel him relax. His strong arms snaked around your waist as he shifted slightly to lean against the headboard, straightening his legs in front of him. You stayed pressed against his chest, catching your breath and feeling the tension leaving your body as the morning went by. And as Sukuna held you so close to his heart, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that it felt so right and that made the question bloom inside his brain. Was it still strictly physical? Was it ever only about sex?
» PART FOUR
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taglist: @yihona-san06 , @tiredscavengerskeleton , @son4aras , @vixorell , @cecesharktales , @isleqt , @thickmacandcheese, @captainchrisstan, @bbylime, @sad-darksoul, @shartnart1, @kiki17483, @grimreaqueer, @phoenix-eclipses, @fan-of-encouragement, @valleydoll, @aleeeeeeees-stuff, @marifujioka, @going-to-californiaxx, @just-pure-trash, @edenofeve, @impulsivethoughtsat2am, @thigh-o-saur, @heyohalie, @matchat3a, @bubblearts, @littlemisspropaganda, @aconstructofamind, @lawislife18, @rzcnlb, @sunukissed
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messiahzzz · 7 months
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i have been thinking a lot about mystra’s relationship with gale, how reducing her to “his ex” really is an understatement. she was and still is so much more than that. moreover, using the term “ex-girlfriend” in relation to her plainly feels wrong and diminishes the influence she has over him, as well as the role she played in his life since his childhood (and it also trivializes the abuse he suffered through her).
there are several instances where gale gets defensive when his companions mention or ask him abt mystra. he claims that their relationship was no less real even though most of their interactions were incorporeal.
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we have already established that gale is an unreliable narrator in this particular case, still not having fully come to terms with the fact that he was groomed, manipulated and abused. he ping-pongs between bouts of realization (even in his romance), gaining clarity that he was merely used and eventually discarded and that mystra never truly cared for him, back to making light of his situation, idealizing her once again. realizing the extent of his trauma, that he is indeed a victim in this scenario, unlearning what he has been made to believe from a young age is a slow and painful journey. he is in the process of healing, but it takes time. time he deserves just like anyone else.
which makes me wonder what their relationship really looked like, once the lines between teacher, muse, and lover began to blur. i also feel like one of the reasons why part of the fandom still struggles to identify mystra as his abuser, is because she is a white woman who initially presents herself in a soft-spoken, benevolent manner… and well, the fact that gale himself is ambitious to a fault and a lil insane about the promise of power. he also briefly mentions "crossing mystra’s boundaries” when he confides in tav and tells them about his folly. (“i am, after all, the villain in this story.”) which led to a looooot of misinterpretations.
leaving the overall lore and mystra’s treatment of her other chosen aside — what we can discern from her interactions with gale in-game, is that mystra is civil as long as she remains in control and gale follows her demands, but as soon as there’s even a slight mention of challenging her power or defying her rule, she rather quickly changes her tone.
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there is also one particular exchange between them that just won’t leave my head:
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“you were many things to me, but never a threat. and never a savior."
even if we choose to blatantly ignore the fact that mystra is a deity, his goddess - there is no possible way that their relationship ever could have been equal by any mortal standards. the power imbalance that comes with her being his teacher and a symbol of his admiration, plus the sheer control she holds over him and his powers are simply too great. don’t even let me get started on how it is a common tactic of abusers to isolate their victims from any outside influences so they can exert full control over them. and how up to meeting tav and their merry band of misfits, every single soul he was close to was inevitably tied to mystra in one way or another. he briefly mentions his colleagues and then there’s elminster, also mystra’s chosen and former lover, and tara, who is a fine wizard in her own right. he spend so many years in service of her, dedicating his life to her, that now there is no one left he can truly call a friend. most of his little anecdotes and stories he tells are restricted to his childhood and university days, everything else was mystra.
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evidently, ordering gale to detonate the orb is the most efficient course of action in her eyes. he is just as expendable as any other mortal, after all. maybe once significantly more useful given his status and the extent of his powers, but she doesn’t feel sorrow nor remorse for ordering him to end his life. his death is simply the most convenient means to an end.
another thing i would also like to briefly touch upon is the trigger/detonator itself. a dagger to the heart. it could have been literally anything else, a simple incantation. it is well within mystra’s power to stabilize the orb and also to remove it from his body entirely. but no, what she requires of gale is to stab himself. one might argue that it was simply a cinematic choice meant for a more dramatic effect, but it really leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. especially considering the fact that she is commonly known and referred to as a jealous goddess. it almost makes it seem like yet another form of punishment or mere pettiness. after his long period of isolation, gale is now surrounded by fellow humans. people he cares about, even perhaps people he might eventually consider good friends — which is enough of a reason for him to not want to die, to keep going and try to find another way, rather than to blindly follow mystra’s bidding. now there’s a group of people who support him and are genuinely invested in him staying alive. hmmm...
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universalitgirlsblog2 · 4 months
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🎀📖STUDYING TIPS FROM STRAIGHT-A STUDENT📖🎀
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(1) Passionate about Learning
If we look at Hermione or Rory , they had a burning passion for learning. They were full of curiosity. They didn't just study for good grades , they studied because they were passionate to learn. They read alot of books. Ngl Reading is therapeutic . Hermione always went into detail , she read alot of books about the topics she was studying. There is a reason behind her being a " know it all " .
(2) Rely on Understanding , not rote learning
I was one of those who would study at last moment and rely on rote learning, I would still get good grades . But gradually I realized , studying at last moment is wrong and it makes education unworthy. After the exam , I would forget everything. Sometimes rote learning won't help too. Rely on understanding the concepts. Ofc there will be some topics that are just meant for memorization. When you come back from school , you should revise everything. It will makes things much easier for you.
(3) Be Disciplined and Dedicated
The best form of self love is discipline. Don't procrastinate. Procrastination is the cost of life you could have lived. Be mindful and prioritize your tasks. Start taking responsibility. You owe yourself to be disciplined and dedicated.
(4) Prioritize Education
Education is the most powerful weapon. Being educated and Intelligent is HOT ! HARD WORK WILL NEVER BETRAY YOU. Books are your best friends. When I had my exams or when I was in 10th grade, we had board exams . I studied really hard. It was lockdown but exams were still offline ( lol ). I cut off toxic people or anything which drained me or made me feel bad. I prioritized myself and my education. I used social media for 30 minutes only and I would watch content which made me feel motivated or good about myself. I unfollowed everything which made me feel bad. Did I regret it ? NO ! I GOT 98%. I strongly believe in manifestation too ( that's why this account exists ) so I affirmed for good grades too.
(5)Less Social Media or N🚫 Social media at all.
Alot of my classmates who are also exceptional at studying . Some of them joined Social media very late and some of them still don't use Social media. I joined Social media in Grade 9 but these days I try to use it as less as possible. This can be different for everyone. Maybe you use Social media in a healthy way and get good grades. For me , Social media can be draining sometimes so I use it less whenever I need to focus on myself. I was thinking to deactivate my account or take a break 😅. Most of the posts you see are scheduled btw, including this one .
(6)Find your WHY
Why are you studying ? What is your reason ? Is it because you want to make your parents proud ? Is it because you love learning ? Is it because you want to prove others wrong ? It is very important to have a reason for studying. Maybe connect your goals to studying. Let's say you want to become a dentist , now you can't become a dentist without studying ,right ?
(7) Find a Role Model
If you can't find your WHY yet , it's okay. Try to find a role model. It can be any real life person or a fictional character. It can be ANYONE ! My role models are Hermione and Elle Woods. You can put your role model Keychain on your pouch , stick their posters etc so whenever you look at it , you gain motivation to give your best. Again , it's okay if you can't find a role model . Become your own role model If you can't find any role model 😉
(8) Don't let Past intervene
It's okay if you weren't a good student from start . According to manifestation, you can revise being one too ! You can still change yourself and become a good student . You can prove all those people wrong by becoming a good student. Once a wise man said , don't let your past blackmail your present to ruin a beautiful future.
(9) Believe in Yourself & Be confident
Harry potter once said " Working hard is important but there's something which matters even more ; Believing in yourself " . Even if you aren't a potterhead , you should listen to Harry Potter. Another example can be Elle Woods , she believed in herself when no one did. She showed us the power of self belief. Be confident in yourself.
(10) Be attentive and Regular
You must be attentive in class. Participate in class and don't hesitate . I can understand if you can't participate in class because you feel shy ( I used to be like that ) but the more you push yourself to participate, the less you will hesitate. Gradually , you will feel confident too. Like Thewizardliz said , sometimes you need to get uncomfortable to get comfortable. Be a good listener.Also , be regular in your classes. If you aren't able to be regular, study at home. Some of my friends weren't able to be regular in school because of personal reasons but they studied at home . They didn't waste their time in unproductive stuff. Sometimes I was also not able to be regular at school but I studied at home and took breaks in between.
(11) Study From Youtube
I don't know if it's just me but youtube teachers can make the most complicated topics so simple. They explain everything in detail. Youtube teachers can be more helpful than school teachers tbh 😀. Self Study is important.
(12) Take care of Your Mental health.
It can be very hard to study with bad mental health. I tend to take care of my mental health. Stress can be the biggest distraction sometimes. So take care of your physical and mental health. Journal. Meditate. Take a break from social media if you need to. Use affirmations.Dance. Exercise. Read.Paint . Sleep. Whatever makes you feel better. Poor mental health can also interfere with your attention span so please take care of your mental health. Don't take it for granted 😃.
Short and simple tips
- Value your time. Time is money
- Self study is very beneficial
- Be organized
- Avoid Drama
- I WANT TO LET YOU ALL KNOW HOW IMPORTANT YOUR TODAY IS , YOUR NOW IS .STUDY HARD . WORK HARD.PLAY HARDER. DON'T BE BOUND BY RULES. DON'T HURT ANYBODY AND NEVER EVER LIVE SOMEONE ELSE'S DREAM. REMEMBER HOW MANY TIMES YOU GO WRONG, NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES YOU FAIL , DESPAIR, FEEL LIKE THIS WORLD IS AGAINST YOU . IN THE WORDS OF BOB MARLEY , AT THE END EVERYTHING IS GONNA BE ALRIGHT . - SHAH RUKH KHAN aka SRK👑
🎀📖These are some tips which helped me and I live by these tips. I hope these tips help you too. I apologize if the post wasn't helpful🎀📖
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rninies · 3 months
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✮ idiotic love - gojo satoru
synopsis: gojo satoru annoys the hell out of you.
warnings: fluff, gn!reader, chaotic couple lol — wc: 698
notes: this is not enemies to lovers but one sided hatred LMFAO
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you and gojo satoru have been incompatible ever since you met him. it’s not like he’s ever said anything mean to you, but it’s because he annoys the hell out of you. every little thing he does makes you just want to punch him in the face. shoko and suguru have already seen the way you two bicker every time you see each other, and it is safe to say they are tired of it.
as fate wants, you and satoru have been picked to go grocery shopping together. jujutsu high requires a snack restock, and as unlucky as you are, you picked the short end of the stick. when satoru looks at the face you made when you pull the short stick, he laughs out loud, doubling over.
“are you laughing at me?” you asked, clenching the stick so hard in your hand that it almost breaks.
“yeah, i am. what are you going to do about it?” satoru says with an annoying smile on his face.
the irked you for some reason. “wipe that smile off your face before i do it for you.” you throw the stick at satoru, crossing your arms. “who got the other one?” when satoru lifts his hand up, you immediately shake your head. “no. no way. i am not going to the grocery store with him.” you gave shoko a pleading look, begging her to switch with you but all she did was shrug.
“sorry, y/n.” she apologizes half-heartedly.
“sugu?” you turn to look at him and he shakes his head, leaving before you can ask him. “you traitor!”
“hey come on. grocery shopping with me is fun.” satoru slings an arm over your shoulder. you flinched, surprised, and immediately moved away from him. “come on. the kids are waiting.” he winks and starts walking away. you groan before catching up to him.
the first two minutes were filled with silence, which was weird for satoru because he always wanted to talk to you. the silence… feels weird. you were used to a loud satoru, so a quiet satoru just… creeps you out for some reason.
“are you okay?” you asked, and satoru hummed in reply.
“mm, could be better,” he mumbles. however, he suddenly stops, making you shocked. “actually, no. i’m not okay.”
you raise an eyebrow. “what? what’s wrong?”
“this is so frustrating.” satoru scratches the back of his neck and then drops his hand frustratedly. “this question has been on my mind ever since we met, okay? why do you hate me so much?”
“what?” you paused, not knowing what to answer. why do you hate satoru so much? “you want an answer right now?”
“yes, please.” satoru crosses his arms, waiting for your answer.
“it’s the way you annoy me all the time. the way you always have to show off your stupid infinity power by using it whenever i try to throw a pillow at your way. it’s the way your stupidly handsome face is constantly on my mind!” you exclaimed, but then you immediately covered your mouth, realizing what you had just said.
satoru blinks and then smiles, shaking his head. “ah, so you have a crush on me?”
“no!” you wave your hand in front of his face, turning red. “no! i don’t like you! don’t get the wrong idea! i just-”
“nu-uh. you have a crush on me.” a smug smile is evident on his face and you immediately slapped yourself mentally. “the person who has been clearly hating me since the start has a crush on me.”
“stop! no! i didn’t say that! stop, you’re delusional. i do not have a crush-” satoru cuts you off with a kiss. your eyes widened when you felt his soft lips on yours. when satoru pulled away, you couldn’t move or say anything.
“cat got your tongue?” satoru smirks, he places a finger under your chin and squishes both of your cheeks. “come on. say something.”
“you-” you stuttered before turning around and start walking. “i hate you!”
satoru looks at you in shock before laughing, catching up with you with ease. his hand intertwine with yours, squeezing it. “i love you too.”
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taglist: @planetnini @xintre @kyoghurts @sad-darksoul (send an ask to be added!) <3
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