#sangfroid

[anotherincorrectquotesblog]

A: What sangfroid…

B: What benevolence…

C: What a fucking joke!

#incorrect quotes #3 characters #sangfroid #benevolence #jokes #source: disco elysium

[okierazorback]

Word of the Day – Sangfroid

Word of the Day – Sangfroid

Noun: Sangfroid self-possession or imperturbability especially under strain An English word from French, if you break down the French… sang refers to blood and froid is cold Synonyms: aplomb calmness equanimity poise unflappability Usage: “If you had said, ‘This, too, shall pass,’ I might have scratched your eyes out, recalls Michele, a mother of two from Arlington, Virginia. ‘If you had…

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#Sangfroid

[seasurfacefullofclouds1]

When will Louis understand that Zayn&other members of the band don’t give a shit about him…

https://x.com/louist91updates/status/1793864029511020926?s=46

Louis isn’t naïve, and he isn’t a rookie to the business. He knows.

Remember a few years ago (2019 maybe?) Louis said that Kendrick Lamar’s Love was his favorite tune?

Positive energy into the universe. Sending that out is for Louis himself. It’s never about reciprocals.

#if only we could all have the same sangfroid

[lackadaisycats]

Congrats on releasing another animated short! The animation is so smooth and expressive! but i have to ask. Did you redesign Mordecai’s face? It’s so subtle I had to rewatch it but he looks cuter than in the pilot. Is it because hes younger and we’re seeing him in a different context? Or are you redesigning him for the series and if so are any other characters getting a makeover?

Hey, thanks very much! We didn't redesign his face, but there are a few things contributing to him looking a bit different.

We went with a deliberately "slicked back" look for him in the pilot so that he'd appear distinctly older and more put-together than Rocky, Freckle, and Ivy. But for "Stratagem" and some other things we're working on, set at an earlier point in the 1920s, we've reintroduced his hair fluff up front. For such a small change, it does tend to soften him a lot.

His clothes. In the pilot, he's wearing a big, turned up collar that looks almost like a cobra hood. His collar is much smaller in Stratagem, so you can see his otherwise not-very-imposing frame.

He's far more, er, animated in the recent animation. His eyes are more wide open and he's a great deal more expressive, with agitated hand gestures. This was also deliberate. He's really putting on the sangfroid-face in the pilot. In the new short, he's revealing a much less constrained side.

----

About other characters, yes, we've been fleshing out their reference sheets a bit more and spit-polishing their designs. The band members have had an overhaul to make them a lot more distinct and detailed, and Viktor has also undergone some rework to address some animation issues we encountered with him in the pilot. Lots of costume changes too. You can see a lot of the changes I described above and a lot of new character designs for Season 1 on the Lackadaisy Patreon.

#lackadaisy #lackadaisycats #animation #mordecai heller #cats #indie animation #2d animation #character design

[chosai]

BREAK HIS COMPOSURE — NANAMI KENTO.

SYNOPSIS. gaining the title 'duke' not only came with the prestige, but came along the lonely days you spent yearning for your husband as he toggled the new duties and responsibilities he had to face. it was only a matter of time before you decided that you could only have so much patience, deciding that it wouldn't hurt if you played around a little – watching as your husband who held himself in great temperance and sangfroid fall into pieces the more you attempt to break his composure.

DETAILS. duke!nanami kento x reader TAGS. 18+ content mdni. breeding kink, explicit language, rough sex, cunnilingus WC. 4.1k

SORA'S NOTE. reposted another one of my works from my old writing blog. please enjoy! <3

© CHOSAI — do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

NANAMI KENTO, no doubt, was a powerful young man who earned himself the title Duke from the royal king after his contribution and victory in the most recent war. Of course, now that he was given the new title, he was given a whole lot of responsibilities and duties that he’s got to fulfill now that he had plenty more people to protect. Nowadays, the young duke would either be found training his lot of knights, hunting, or cooped up in his grand office busying himself with myriads of documents. Despite being incredibly proud of his achievements, you still couldn’t help but yearn for the affection of your beloved husband.

 Many nights were spent alone, staring up at the tall dark ceiling while you silently counted sheep – hoping that once you had reached a hundred, he would arrive and join you in bed (he’d often fall asleep on the sofa in his office). And, many nights were spent with you fending for yourself when you longed for his touch, arching your back when you’d climax on your fingers – however, you never felt fully satisfied. Your fingers could never compare to his larger and thicker fingers, nor his… 

You shake your head rapidly, feeling your cheeks growing redder by the lewd thoughts of your husband swimming through your mind. The last time you had intercourse with the male was when you both consummated the marriage, which was almost half a year ago, and then a month after that, the war happened – and two months later, he’d come back with a new title, Duke. Everything else after that was a blur. He was just within your reach — residing in the same manor and all, could almost reach for him but always got farther and farther away. You miss your husband, desperately. 

You stroll through the hallways of the manor, taking small strides towards the familiar giant door with a board of your freshly baked bread balanced in your hands. You continue to hum a gentle tune as you got closer and closer to the door. Although, it may appear to other people that his wife was innocently barging into his office thus surprising him with baked goods made with love – However, unknowingly for them, you had other plans hidden up your sleeves.

“Kento,” your voice gentle as you call out his name, “I brought you something that I think you’d love!”

You open the door further, revealing your husband — as per usual — busying himself with his documents. Fatigue was plastered all across his face, though he tried his best to mask it, but the dark circles underneath his hazel eyes were of no help. You could tell that even his muscles had gotten sore from training and staying seated for long periods of time. You placed the bread tray in front of him, and you walked around the desk to stand next to your husband. 

“Thank you, honey,” He quickly thanks you, sending you a quick nod of acknowledgement. Your husband was in pure autopilot mode, his hand continuously signing the documents despite him slowly losing focus — desperately trying to keep them open rather than succumbing to slumber.

“You should take a moment to relax, Kento.” You say. Just as he is about to come up with some type of excuse as to why he shouldn’t take a break, you lean in closer to his ear. “Let me help you.”

Your hands travel up to his back, and you applied some pressure on his shoulders while you massaged him. Your husband releases a low groan when you apply even more pressure on a stubborn muscle knot on his shoulders. You smile when he relaxes into your touch, closing his eyes while he leaned closer into you as you massaged into his sore muscles until those pesky knots disappeared. “How do you feel now?”

“I feel much better,” Kento sighs, humming pleasantly, “ Thank you for the bread, too. I’ll make sure to finish it while I continue working.”

“Can’t your break be a little longer?” You probe at him, pouting softly. “I missed you.”

A sudden wave of boldness and confidence overtakes your consciousness, and you bring yourself down on his lap, your arms snaking around your husband’s muscular shoulders. Kento looks completely taken aback, and you eat that expression up as if it is candy. 

 “Kento,” you begin, “can’t you see that your cute and loving wife misses you?”

You press your lips against his ear, before whispering: “I’ve been thinking about you so much, putting a baby inside of me.”

Slowly, you thrust your hips against his thigh, watching your husband in pure amusement as he attempts to keep his composure; his hand tightening on his pen, knuckles white. Almost immediately, you can feel him hardening underneath you, and you grin almost immediately. Something about his reaction swells your heart with pride, knowing that despite being busy you still, somewhat, had an effect on him. Even more, Kento is taken aback, completely speechless (and undeniably turned on) from his wife’s bold ministrations.

 “B-baby inside..?” His voice comes out as a dry rasp, his eyes wide .

Before your husband can process anything else, he felt the weight on his lap disappearing, and he quickly stares up to watch you getting ready to leave. You fixed the wrinkles on the hem of your dress, trying to fight back the grin on your face after having just teased your usually stoic husband. He had always appeared so cool and composed, so watching him try so hard to keep his composure undeniably gives you some type of thrill. 

“Y/N?” He calls out your name, looking visibly confused. Your eyes travel down to your husband’s trousers, smiling innocently as you caught sight of the large tent growing between his legs.

“I almost forgot to mention, but the marchioness invited me to her manor for a tea party.” You say, attempting to stifle the giggle bubbling in your throat while your husband appears flustered. “I won’t be back until tonight.”

You lean in to give him a quick kiss on his lips, not before licking his bottom lip as you pull away. You are being far too mean with your husband, but you can’t help it — watching him slowly crack beneath your manipulation sends a shock of arousal straight between your legs. “Until then, promise me that you’ll finish the bread and take breaks when you need it, okay?”

Before the man can even muster a single response, you walked out of his office. Only two could play at this game, you think to yourself as you close the office door behind you.

Hours have already passed and you finish catching up with the noble ladies, exchanging your goodbyes and letters before parting ways. It has truly been a while since you had last caught up with your friends. Nevertheless, the time spent at your friend’s manor is enjoyable, listening to all the spicy gossip while enjoying desserts and tea. 

The ride back home in the carriage is silent — the only sound present were the continuous patters from the horses’ steps. You stare outside the window, quietly watching the manor eventually disappearing as the carriage goes further away in distance. It is already a quarter past nine, perhaps the latest you have ever stayed out, and it is safe to assume that your beloved husband is probably resting on the sofa in his office again. 

You lean your back against the seat, pressing the side of your head against the window as your eyes begin to grow heavy, the distant sounds of the horses’ steps gradually lulling you into a short slumber.

“My lady, we’ve arrived.”

“Oh my, we’re already here?” You ponder to yourself out loud, groggily opening your eyes. You place your hands atop the coachman’s guiding you down the carriage, and you stare at the tall manor before you. Once you enter inside, you are automatically greeted with your maids ushering you to the bathroom with a change of clothes. Undeniably, you felt a little disappointed, as you believe that your husband had unknowingly proved your point from earlier — you, at least, hoped that he’d stay awake a little longer. You sink lower into the tub, blowing bubbles as you scrunch your brows together, the water hiding pouting lips. The maid had left you alone earlier, telling you that she’d return with a towel soon, but it’s been moments.

You glance around the bathroom, trying to decipher the exact location of your nightgown. Ah, it was on the stool, next to the door. If anyone had walked in on you grabbing your nightgown from the stool, the only thing they’d see is your wet and bare body. It shouldn’t be too bad, though —after all, it’s always been your maids coming in. Slowly, you stand up from the large tub, and you immediately shiver from the wave of cold air rushing to you,, cool beads of water dripping down your body. With careful steps, you make  your way across the room, your hand reaching out towards your nightgown. 

You suddenly hear a knock on the door, and you instinctively grab the gown to cover the front of your body. It must be the maid, you think to yourself and you try to mimic that of a stern face — however, you can’t bring yourself to be too harsh on a new maid, after all. You watch the door open slowly, and you tap your fingers against your elbows. “Hana, where were you all this… Oh.”

Almost immediately, your face is sent aflame and you scurry away from the door, your failed attempt of a stern persona pathetically crumbling away as the space revealed no one other than your husband standing in front of the doorway with a towel in his hand. Hazel eyes travel up and down your frame, his jaw tensing at the sight of your bunched up nightgown barely covering your body — hell, it didn’t cover anything, he stares longingly at your left breast deciding to slip out of the covers. He steps into the room and closes the door shut immediately, his eyes still locked into your frame and he stays silent. 

You press the nightgown against your body even more and you look away from his gaze, as if it could help hide your insecurities that are growing the more he stared and stayed silent. However, all that stops when you glance back at your husband and he gives you a come hither motion with his index finger. “Kento,” you say his name softly, “I thought you were asleep—”

“Come here,” is all he says to you, his voice low and baritone. You easily comply with his words, taking small strides to get closer to the male. “Hand me your nightgown.”

“I thought it was Hana that knocked,” you say quietly as you hand your husband your nightgown, further revealing your naked body. You can hear Kento’s breath hitch for a mere moment before he quickly regains his composure — however, it is already so fragile. He swiftly wraps the towel around your body before pulling you closer to him, his hands resting on your hips while he leans closer to your face with stern eyes. “You’re lucky that it was me, then. What were you thinking about going out of the bath like that? What if it wasn’t Hana or I that walked in?” 

“I didn't want to stay in the bath anymore, and I genuinely believed that my maids would be the only ones to walk in. Because of that, I didn’t feel too worried.” You answer your husband softly, squeezing his shoulder ever so slightly. “Despite you giving me a bit of a surprise, I can’t say that I’d rather have Hana come here instead of you.”

“Is that so? That’s a relief, then. I did tell her that I’d take care of the rest and she could rest for the night.” He hummed, before lifting you up in his arms without any warning, immediately eliciting a surprised gasp from your lips. 

“W-what are you doing?” You question your husband, stammering as you instinctively place your hand onto his chest. 

“You know, after you played your little game earlier, I wasn’t able to do my work properly.” says Kento, opening the bathroom door. “I believe you should bear some sort of responsibility, no?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter under your breath, masking a soft grin as you nuzzle your face into your husband’s neck.

 “Putting a baby inside you,” he says, a slight strain present in his baritone voice as he continues walking down the hall with your towel-covered body in his arms. The walk down to your shared bedroom feels like an eternity has passed, the sounds of his footsteps resonating across the quiet hall. You want to question him where the rest of maids and butlers had gone but you relented, your body tense under the man’s carnal gaze.

“If fucking a baby inside of you is what you want, then it’s what you’ll get. It’s what my sweet wife asked for, after all.”

“H-Honey, what are you—?” 

With one hand, Kento swiftly opens the bedroom door. You let out a small shriek when he throws you on the soft mattress of your king-sized bed, his large hands pinning your hands above your head. He has this carnal glint in his amber eyes as he stares deeply into yours, it was as if all his self-control was beginning to crumble right before your eyes — you’ve never seen him like this; a cool, composed and reserved man looking so disheveled above you—his dress shirt buttoned loosely, revealing his collarbones and the evident incarnadine flush radiating onto his cheeks. Truly, it is a delicious sight to behold, and the wetness dwelling between your legs only seems to grow the longer you stare at the man.

 “What a lewd woman, you are.” He mutters, his grip on your wrists tightening while his other hand trails down your chest, slowly pulling the towel down. “Was my sweet wife having fun playing teatime after leaving me to take care of this?”  

Before you can even utter a word, a sudden gasp leaves your lips when Kento grinds his hips against yours; the delightful friction of the erection growing in his trousers rubbing against your clit, your back arching in hopes to get more. “I missed you,” you say between heavy breaths, “I missed you so much—Ah! Y-You’ve been so cooped up in your o-office lately and ngh..”

Your words were cut abruptly by his lips, teeths clashed and tongues intertwined while his rough and calloused fingers trail up your torso, towards your bare chest in a teasingly slow pace. A muffled moan leaves your lips, only to be covered by your husband’s lips, as he teases your already erect nipples.

 “Tell me more,” said your husband, his lips leaving yours. 

With heavy eyes, you watch Kento’s lips trail to where his hands once rested. His tongue swirls around the mound before sucking on your skin harshly, and you rest your fingers tangled in his blond locks as he continues to elicit those cute sounds coming from your swollen lips.

“You’ve been so busy with your duties as the duke, and—Mhhm..!—I-I’ve been feeling so alone these many nights while I longed for you, so so desperately. I love you so much Kento—Ah!” You mewl out those words in unadulterated wanton, your voice all shakey, it almost sounds embarrassingly pathetic when your husband is doing nothing more than teasing your breasts rather than fucking you relentlessly in the mattress. You can barely care less about how you sound though, because his lips and touch alone are enough to send you into ecstasy. You want him to touch you more. The needy ache between your legs continuously grows more intense the longer he teases you. 

“H-Honey, ‘want more. Please.” You beg your husband, your fingers desperately trying to unbutton his wrinkled dress shirt. “I need more of you.”

Kento doesn’t reply back, continuing his little ministrations on your neglected mound. It is adorable seeing him so focused on pleasuring you, but the heat you feel in your pussy feels too overwhelming. You push your husband’s head away from your mound, his lips leaving your skin with a soft ‘pop!’ He glances at you questioningly.

It was a bold and sudden decision that you had made on a whim out of sheer desperation, but his reaction made it all the more worth it. As soon as your fingers leave his half-buttoned dress shirt, you hook your arms underneath your knees and spread your legs open, revealing your cunt drenched in your desperate juices. “Kento, I mean it when I told you that I wanted you to put a baby in me.”

His mouth is left agape at your sudden boldness, his eyes fixated on the juices slowly dripping out of your hole — his breath gets stuck in his throat as he watches your small fingers spread your pussy lips apart. “Kento, touch me. Please.”

“Shit.”

It is almost as if the string has finally snapped inside of him, because before his mind can even start to think properly, his hands are on your thighs, keeping your legs spread apart as he begins the merciless assault on your dripping folds; his tongue lapping at all your wetness as if he was animal thirsty for water. Kento almost groans at the way his finger stretches your pussy, his finger sliding in almost immediately due to your juices. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath, “you’re so wet for me.”

He slides his index finger in and out before adding a second finger to the mix. He starts off slow, but his pace gradually quickens to that of which is considered merciless. The sounds of your wet cunt getting demolished by his fingers echoes in the grand room, along with your cries of pleasure. Your hips thrash against his fingers, and you can feel the sensation of pressure that was building up in your abdomen intensifying the more that he pleases you with his large fingers. Within less than a second, you cum intensely around his fingers, a loud moan erupting from your throat as your body slumps against Kento. 

‘His fingers feel so much better compared to my fingers,’ you think to yourself as you try to recover from your first orgasm. 

While you attempt to catch your breath, you glance back to Kento only to watch him undress with your mouth salivating. It’s already a given that your husband would be incredibly fit as he often trains with the knights and hunts (while not forgetting the night you had consummated with him in the dark the past few months ago — you felt every crevice of his muscles) — but now, seeing it up close and so clearly — he is truly a sight to behold. You reach your arm towards his chiseled abdomen, your fingers drawing hearts across his skin, and your eyes travel lower past his abdomen; staring intently at the huge tent growing beneath his underwear. You want to get fucked by this man already, so so bad.

“Kento,” you say his name softly, tracing your fingers along the outline of your husband’s clothed erection before trailing back up to the waistband, tugging it down slightly to expose more of his v-line. He tugs his boxers down completely, and your mouth immediately waters at the exquisite sight. He is a lot bigger than you had remembered.

When he slowly rubs the tip of his dick against your folds, shivers trickle down your spine as you raise your hips to meet his, attempting to get him inside. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He mumbles, his voice hoarse. “Look at you all spread open for me, desperate to get a taste of my cock.”

He slips his tip in, eliciting a sharp breath past your trembling lips, and then he pulls out. You whine out his name in a bated breath, your cheeks flushed in an incarnadine hue. Kento spares you a soft smile, almost as if it was mocking you, before he fills your hole up to the very brim — splitting your pussy open. 

“Oh fuck—Kento!” A scream slips past your lips, your eyes scrunched shut as a huge wave of pleasure rushes through your veins, sending goosebumps on your skin. Your husband is relentless with his movements, your legs spread apart by his strong grip.  The sounds of his skin slapping against yours along with cries of his name resonates across the bedroom, coupled with the intense squeaking from the mattress. “F-Feels so good—Ahn! Please—Please don’t stop—Oh!”

“You dirty woman,” Kento sneers, “we’ve just started and your pussy’s already so greedy for my cum by how tight you’re squeezing me. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to get my sweet wife pregnant—filled with all my cum.”

With that, he spreads your legs even wider and leans his torso closer to yours; his face merely centimeters away from yours. “I can feel you getting tighter,” He says, his hot breath fanning against your skin, “you’re getting real close, hm?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to properly reply though, as he trails his one hand down to your clit and rubs rough circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a silent scream—your mouth agape and eyes rolled back as you ride out your orgasm, arching your back against his chest. 

You are barely given enough time to recover when Kento returns to work, his lips instantly connecting to yours while he thrusts his cock inside your sopping hole with a stuttering pace. His hands travel up to your breasts and gives them a harsh squeeze, the pace of his thrusts quickening. Your husband looks utterly delectable, his face scrunched up as he focuses on your pleasure, small beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. Pleasure fills your veins, and your cries only increase in volume the closer you are to reaching your second orgasm. 

Thoughts of you being all plumped up and pregnant play repeatedly in his mind, and it merely ignites his desire to pump all his cum into you. Breaths ragged, he stuffs his head into the crook of your neck, nails gripping into your hips as he continues to plummet into you. “K-Kento—!” You wantonly whine out his name, wrapping your legs tightly around your husband’s hips. “Cum inside me—please. Want your kids so bad.”

How can he not cum? Especially when the sight of his sweet wife being drunk on his dick is right before his eyes. With a groan (combined with a growl) of your name along with a string of curses leaving his lips, he stiffens up inside you; warm ropes of his cum coating your walls white. 

Upon pulling out, he watches large beads of white leaking out of your hole and he sticks his finger inside, pushing his cum back inside. You released a soft sigh in pleasure, your legs slightly twitching at your husband’s touch. 

“How are you feeling now?” Questions your husband, Kento. You reach your arm out to his face, your thumb tracing light circles on his cheekbones. 

“I’m a happy, happy wife,” you reply to him, laughing softly before leaning into his lips, giving him a soft peck. Kento chuckles lightly into the kiss. “Was I too rough with you?” He asks you once more, and you shake your head immediately.

“I think I’ve realized just now how much I enjoy being manhandled by you,” you reply back to him, giggling. “Rather, I enjoy seeing this new side of you.”

Your giggles quickly gets replaced by a slight gasp when your husband suddenly adjusts your position, your face and chest now pressed against the mattress with your husband behind you, his hand lightly rubbing his erect cock. Swiftly, you turn your head to Kento, your mouth agape as you are just about to question him but the sting of his hand on your ass immediately erases all rational thoughts in your mind. Heat immediately rushes to your face once more at the foreign, yet pleasurable sensation. 

“K-Kento,” you are able to utter your husband’s name, your arms already feeling weak from holding yourself up from the mattress. A shaky breath leaves your lips when he slowly rubs his cock against you from behind, your ears picking up a hoarse chuckle.

“I never said I was done with you,” Kento tells you, “not until I’m sure that you’ll get pregnant with all my cum.”

interactions + reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! thank you for reading <3

#ੈ✩‧˚sora’s creations #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #anime smut

[utilitycaster]

Wizard Breakdown Tracker: Echoes of the Solstice

You know it, you love it, it may return on an as-needed basis for Campaign 3 now that Allura has entered the narrative and we know the fate of Caleb, but no promises: it's the Wizard Breakdown Tracker! As a reminder, I now include PCs because I make the rules; wizard NPCs are included on the very scientific basis of "do I have something I think is kind of funny or meaningful to say" so as always, if I left someone off, it was on purpose specifically to annoy you.

Astrid Becke: well her boss is missing, Caleb has expressed concerns in private to Beau about all of the Assembly, apparently the king is bedridden and has been for some time, and I suspect news of unsealed things being unsealed gets to her quickly; even if she isn't aware of the events in Blumenthal yet, she's about to be. Also, it's the apogee solstice. 8/10; ever the opportunist, it is a good time for her to try to become head of the Assembly, but also shit's gone real sideways.

Eadwulf Grieve: lost his title of hottest mage (men's division) to one Fjord Stone during the last Nicodranas County Fair and has been sulking ever since but more importantly the temple of the Raven Queen is doing Not Great Bob as of like an hour ago so a rare Eadwulf stress moment. 7/10.

Planerider Ryn: just lost her arm...but is unaware of it, so that's probably helping. technically cannot be calculated because she is a rock but spiritually like an 8/10 and that's only because she is remarkably unflappable; she just witnessed the Malleus Key and that should drive anyone up to a 10.

Allura Vysoren: has absolutely sensed a disturbance in the force weave and I'm sure Kima's feeling some bad vibes from Bahamut right now, but rather like Ryn she actually has some degree of sangfroid, a concept unheard of in the entire continent of Wildemount. 6/10.

Yussa Errenis: have you ever dealt with like, an ER Nurse, and unless something is actually exploding or someone is actually bleeding out they're like "yeah it be like that sometimes"? After you've been sucked into the Cognouza Hivemind while trying to do your silly little arcane investigations nothing short of the Calamity will ruffle you. He's an elf; he knows this solstice is wonky but also he knows this is Someone Else's Problem. Also Jester's left him alone for a whole 24 hours? Incredible. 2/10 and that's really just because he's still a little cranky about the disappearance of his blast scepter. As always: never change, king.

Prism Grimpoppy: by my calculations she's discovering that she's actually fucking incredible in combat right now. 0/10, she's doing GREAT.

Pumat Sol and sure, fuck it, Oremid Hass: I suspect the Zadash Wizard Contingent is dealing with some wild unsealed shit from the time of the Julous Dominion and they can't get in touch with anyone in the capital, but it's probably manageable. 4/10. On edge but not too bad.

Ludinus Da'leth: oh did your little plan to unleash the god-eater go a touch sideways? were you unprepared for the possibility of fucking all of magic? did you think it was going to be easy? did level 9 "Fuck Up Airship" and level 8 "Shield Against Werewolf" fail to save your bitch ass? As we've seen, he'll scramble and recover, unfortunately, but it's a well-deserved 9/10 right now. I love to see a plan fall apart.

Trent Ikithon: OH this motherfucker has LOST IT in prison. Like...he was able to put together a pretty elaborate situation, to be clear, but also he's gone bugfuck nuts and does not really improve. I think he's already broken down from the start having clearly been planning this exact scenario from the moment of his imprisonment honestly given that he appears to be going off of the frissons he picked up from Caleb and Essek shortly before he was captured, but regardless: he definitely ends it at a 10/10. Stuck in an egg for eternity, if he's even still a separate entity from Omentis. A well-deserved fate if ever there was one. Get fucked lol.

Veth Brenatto: hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha 10/10 you know she watched Luc leap through the teleportation circle as it closed and has been shrieking loud enough to be heard at the Chateau.

Luc Brenatto: the arrogance and naivete of youth insulate him initially, but Aggy's demise probably spikes it to a solid 6 minimum and it's definitely 9 during the battle. It goes back down pretty quickly though; see Caleb's entry.

Caleb Widogast: he keeps it together pretty well, honestly! Still I have to imagine he's kind of at a 7 or so this entire time with occasional spikes to 9 (NEIN) throughout, and I wouldn't fault him for finishing up the Blumenthal Brunch and then quietly locking himself in a soundproof tower room to scream, cry, and throw up for a while. Indeed, I would encourage it; Caleb should go have a good cry and hug a magic cat for a couple hours until he feels better, and then come back down to find that everyone except the clerics but DEFINITELY including Luc has implemented Spontaneous Apogee Solstice Oktoberfest to celebrate the demise of Trent, the engagement of Fjord and Jester, and the general experience of being alive, and is varying degrees of extremely wasted. This will of course bring him back up to like 7 as he realizes he has to return a hungover teenager to Veth and then goes down to a 4 or so when he realizes the clerics can fix that and Veth will probably be so glad that Luc is alive she'll ignore the rest of it.

Essek Thelyss: Our international drow of mystery looms large in the narrative, but does not make an appearance, which makes this premise extremely funny. I assume he's feeling kind of rough given that the Dynasty wizards are well-attuned to leylines and I would imagine he picks up that Sending isn't working and was broadly aware Caleb was going into danger, so he's certainly stressed, but Trent doesn't actually seem to know Where in Exandria is Essek Thelyss and is merely threatening blackmail. Honestly while we're at it, we don't know where Essek is because I wouldn't put it past Mr. Geometer Owner to have been at a solstice nexus and to have possibly experienced his own Solstice Shunting. In fact I assume Essek is blissfully unaware of these specific goings on re: Trent and is just experiencing The Anxiety for all of the previous reasons. (1d6+3)/10.

Known Gem Wizard Hotsauce Lutefisk: Hmmm. Things becoming unsealed, you say? The uninvited guest list (The Real Gelidon, Isharnai) for The TusktoothStone-Lavorre wedding may have gained an extra entry.

#i'm gelidon i'm the real gelidon and all the other gelidons are just shapechanging #critical role #critical role spoilers #wizard breakdown tracker #mighty nein #echoes of the solstice

[adhdprincess]

TLOU rec-list for fics with less than 100 kudos!

If you don't have much time to read, rebloging is a great way to show support. Let's uplift these talented fic writers!

Cuddle up with some Fluff

Rest - 3k words, Joel gets sick in Jackson. It's filled to the brim with lots of banter and sweet family-shaped moments. Also, Ellie doesn't live in the shed!

New Seasons - 5k words, Outside of Jackson, Joel gets a migraine. Ellie takes care of him and it’s just so sweet. I have a cavity, guys 🥹 Both by: ABeckoningCat, @inherstars on Tumblr

bear with me - 700 words, Ellie spots a bear outside the walls of Jackson. Joel’s reactions are funny as hell. By: @bearrycool on Ao3 and Tumblr

if i could give you the moon - 4.5k words, 10-year-old Ellie meets Riley. Fluffy shenanigans ensue, wrapped up in a beautiful ending. Happy belated fic-erversary! By: @becomethesun on Ao3 and Tumblr

When the Party's Over - 2k words, Ellie attends a party in Jackson, but her anxiety takes over. Hurt/comfort vibes? Check! Fluff and angst? Double check! By: @paigegonerogue on Ao3 and Tumblr

Tear your heart out with Angst

Dear Shadow, Alive and Well(WIP) - 30k words, A gritty, immersive multi-chapter set after Ellie, Tommy, and Dina return from Seattle. The prose, the imagery, and the dialogue are all BEAUTIFUL! This story has killed me. @wicked--loving--lies I'm throwing you all of the virtual flowers!! 💐 By: Wickedlovinglies, @wicked--loving--lies on Tumblr

Arsonist's Lullaby - 4.5k, A character study of Joel and his relationship with anger. The angst had me clawing at the floor. The writing is AMAZING! By: fae_the_gay27

think I’ll miss you forever… - 1.5k words, A character study of Ellie after the major character death in TLOU2. Beautiful prose and I think I’ll cry actually 😭. By: @crystalflys on Ao3 and Tumblr

March 2, 2038 (tw gore) - 1.5k words, Might be the saddest fic I’ve ever read, but the angst is so good. This takes place right after the major death in TLOU2. By: Three_kittens_in_a_trench_coat

Journey through these AUs!

sangfroid - 3k words, Joel and Tess have an oops baby and it's Ellie. This is so beautiful and has an awesome twist at the end. By: Glitter_Gecko, @seethesunny on Tumblr

Calamity's Child - 10k words, An AU where Joel is a trans man set after the events of TLOU1. It’s very fluffy with a good helping of angst and so well written! By: Fiachra, @consultingzoologist on Tumblr

Ashes denote that Fire was(WIP) - 3.5k words, A firefighter🔥 AU. Ellie is feral, Joel is bewildered, and Tess is a banter queen. This AU is such a fun read! By: @bumblepony on Ao3 and Tumblr

Roll for Halloween Hijacks - 5.5k words, On Halloween, in a no-outbtreak AU, Joel joins Ellie and her friends to play a tabletop game. It’s so fluffy and communal and everyone is alive! By: MichiMe, @freetobeyouandmichi-me on Tumblr & @marceltheshellwithflipflopson on Ao3 and Tumblr

If you read a story and enjoy, consider leaving a comment! Writers love encouraging comments, even if it's just a heart emoji ❤️.

This rec-list is here to uplift the wonderful writing community in this fandom. Please share this around to show support for writers!

Thanks to @saradika-graphics for the divider!

#community day #Not adding a self promo because of SHAME #feel free to add to this list #fic rec #tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfic #the tipsy bison #tlou joel #tlou ellie #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #ellie williams #tlou fan fiction

[bsd-bibliophile]

       She had a radiant face, like the morning sun on a thin sheet of ice. He was fond of her, but he did not lover her, nor had he even laid a finger on her.       “I’ve heard you want to die,” she said.       “Yes - or rather, it’s not so much that I want to die as that I’m tired of living.”       This dialogue led to a vow to die together.       “It would be a Platonic suicide, I suppose,” she said.       “A Platonic double suicide.”       He was amazed at his own sangfroid.

- Akutagawa Ryūnosuke, “The Life of a Stupid Man” from Rasōmon and Seventeen Other Stories

Donald Keene wrote this about Akutagawa in Dawn to the West: “The suicide memorandum passed next to the debates he had with himself over the manner and place of suicide, ending with his decision on aesthetic grounds not to hang himself, though he believed it was the least painful way out. He revealed also that a certain woman wished to join him in suicide, but he had decided against this, both out of consideration for his wife and because dying alone would be easier to arrange.”

#akutagawa ryūnosuke #japanese literature #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd

[1800titz]

something about tdiag harry and his and yns relationship after they know each other and it’s out in the open. domestic dominance. him domming her in her own house.

I did a little blurb on the coffee funishment thing I talked about a little bit here!! :D

WC: 896

>>>>>>>>>>

In one fist cradling a handle, fawn liquid with a plume of steam curling up out of the mug. It’s chalky— there’s too much creamer, and probably too much sugar. He knows the way she likes it. In the other—

Harry blinks. 

Isla gnaws into her cheek, the way she does when she’s trying to get a rise without outwardly chortling, like she’s trying to stifle a peal of laughter before executing the punchline of a joke. 

“Very funny,” he hums. 

The other mug is stuffed with unground coffee beans. The corners of her mouth twitch. She sticks it into his direction; an outstretched offering of an unbrewed, caffeinated concoction in its raw form. Her lips wobble. 

He’s awake. 

“It’s your coffee,” Isla murmurs. Clears her throat when the statement garbles over poorly cached mirth. 

He takes the mug, and her serious mien cracks like a heap of bedrock crumbling, giggling as his shoulders climb and fall on an exaggerated sigh. If she wasn’t so amused, something would probably itch in her guts at the sight of him denuded and exasperated, shirtless and sleep-soft under the eiderdown. 

The way he scrubs over his face and stares into the mug like he’ll miraculously discover actual coffee — based on his intended request — at the bottom if he just stares long enough, the edges of his mouth ticking in lopsided amusement (he abysmally masks), just has her laughing harder. 

“You’re a fucking brat,” Harry tells her, finally, bobbing his head, and her tummy swells with her hiccupy cackles— his head twists as he toggles over his phone— “It is— eight in the morning, you little menace. D’you just… plan these things the night before?”

Isla shrugs. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

He cocks his head. A soft come hither with a head of soft curls— she obliges, and he sweeps her mug from her hands, carefully, grappling over the top of the searing ceramic like it’s a balmy warmth to the pads of his fingers. Sets it onto the nightstand on a coaster. 

“Well. You can go ahead and eat one of these,” Harry tells her, cradling her close by the small of her back and nudging the cold cup of coffee beans between them. 

Isla sputters. “What?” 

“Well, what did you want me to do with it?” 

“It’s— your coffee,” Isla parrots, pointedly, muffling her speech with another snort. 

Harry hums. He blinks and tells her, slowly, “Eat one.” 

“No,” she squawks indignantly, wriggling reflexively in his hold when his forearm cinches. 

He loosens, the corners of his lips curling in a deceitfully sangfroid simper, “No?” And then—

Isla makes a little sound when he sets the coffee beans onto the nightstand beside her own confiscated beverage and manhandles her into pitching over onto the mattress, clambering up onto his knees with surprising speed for the hour on what’s meant to be a languorous weekend. 

“Did you just tell me no?” 

Isla laughs nervously, stuttery, and dim, and smothered against the comforter when he digs his knee into the small of her back, hiking up her sleep-shirt (an oversized keepsake borrowed to never be returned from his own collection) enough for her panties to peek. 

“…No?”

An indignant sound mottles her paroxysm when Harry pins her arm behind her back, slotting the bones in her wrist into a posture of filched obedience. 

“Hm?” 

A cry, then— something that starts sharp out of surprise and thaws into a soft hum when he swats over her backside with his free hand enough times to make her whine. Not enough to make it hurt. She twists her head over the duvet when he pauses, just enough to catch a glimpse of his torso stretching and his arm reaching—

She gasps, like a breath before letting a lapping salt chuck swallow her down, and contorts (with little leverage on account of the knee stapling her to the bed). Isla flails and squeals when he fingers a coffee bean past her lips. Pure sadism. It’s bitter — the amalgam of uncooked coffee and his cruel mirth, meshed with his skin stroking over her taste buds. She nearly bites—

She sputters as he tucks his fingers out, gauging her aim, and spits it back onto the blanket. He makes a disappointed hum, and she wriggles under him.

“You’ve made a mess, well done,” Harry sighs. He plucks the sloppy remnants from the sheets, “What have you done that for? …Perfectly good coffee.” and sets it onto the nightstand. 

Her face creases. He’s a mean, mean man. She lets him know as much, brows pinched, and Harry hums something amused in response, digging the weight of his knee back into her when he reaches over and culls her coffee. 

She gets just enough of a peer to note the way his nose scrunches before he clears his throat and tells her, “Fuck me, that’s sweet.” 

Isla groans. The mug returns to the nightstand with a clink. He presses a palm over her shoulder blade and murmurs, “Coffee. Black. You know the way I like it. Get it right this time. And,” his hand meanders from her back to her crown when he nudges her face into the soiled spot she’s left with her saliva, garbled with hints of a lax grin, “You’re going to clean this up, or I’m going to spank you raw.”

#tdiag things #just a little concept :d #harry styles smutty concept #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs

[killerpancakeburger]

"Soap almost faced disciplinary action for punching a military police officer, knocking him out and locking him in his own vehicule."

"No charges were filed to avoid embarassment for the officer" 💀💀💀

I'm reading the COD wiki and just stumbled upon this GEM?? Does anyone have more info???? I really REALLY wanna know why Soap did this. I knew he was hot-blooded but he's still a soldier, yknow, so he must have a significant level of self-control/sangfroid and respect for autority...

#going insane over this #pls freak out with me fellow soap worshippers #soap squad #rambling into the void #cod mw2 #johnny soap mactavish #cod soap #cod #call of duty #cod mwii #cod modern warfare 2 #call of duty mw2 #soap cod #soap mctavish #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #johnny mactavish #john soap mactavish

[kabutoraiger]

on a whim i went with an ikemen dating sim VN called "lovebrush chronicles" as my latest mobile game and. friends, i need to tell you. my ass was not prepared for what this narrative is like.

like haha yeah the MC gets isekaid to be the kings bride, sounds normal -- no. you fool. if only it were so simple. actually she's been brought there to be a human sacrifice in a ritual to transport part of the population to Another planet to escape the eternal winter that's constantly causing everyone to die horribly. there's 20 different levels of fucked up fantasy political intrigue & murder going on. every single romance route seems to end with these anime prettyboys willing to perform a lovers suicide with you to give someone else a faint chance at life or some shit like that.

me who just wanted something to tap on mindlessly while watching youtube videos: 😧

and the translation work is just as out of pocket, they are like camped out on thesaurus dot com for this one. truly never expected to be playing a mobile otome game that uses the words 'sangfroid' and 'stentorian' repeatedly.

genuinely though i think this game understands the teen girl/young adult woman audience better than like any other similar media ive encountered like this is exactly the level of romantic angst i would've ATE up as a teen. and though at this point i am too old to find these bishies particularly appealing i am still on the edge of my seat following the plot ngl

#oryx's game review corner #im Izari if anyone else plays & wants to be friends

[okierazorback]

Word of the Day – Sangfroid

Word of the Day – Sangfroid

Noun: Sangfroid self-possession or imperturbability especially under strain An English word from French, if you break down the French… sang refers to blood and froid is cold Synonyms: aplomb calmness equanimity poise unflappability Usage: “If you had said, ‘This, too, shall pass,’ I might have scratched your eyes out, recalls Michele, a mother of two from Arlington, Virginia. ‘If you had…

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#Sangfroid

[loquaciousquark]

[Fic] This Lethal Light Falls Softly [1/1] - Complete

Rating: E Characters/Pairings: Astarion/Tav Word Count: 13k Summary: Tav's visit to Avernus was supposed to last a few hours, no more. Now, a full week later, she's finally made her way home, and not even the extraordinary, magical gift she brings with her is enough to make Astarion less blazingly furious. Domesticity doesn't come easy when you've spent a lifetime just trying not to die. (Again.)

Set about a month post-game.

Notes: Tremendous thanks, again, to @thievinghippo for her wonderful beta.

—

“Astarion,” Tav said, and he nearly broke her nose jolting up from a sound trance.

“You’re back,” he said stupidly, because she was, and then all the anger of the last week came roaring up so suddenly his vision went white. His hands clenched around the blankets; his chest blazed hot as Karlach had ever managed in her worst rages. “Excellent. Now I can tell you to your face that I never want to see you again. I’m leaving you now forever—goodbye.”

“You can’t leave, it’s ten in the morning.”

“Then I will sit here in furious silence until dusk, and then I’ll leave.” He threw back the covers and stalked from the bed without looking at her. She let him pass in the curtain-drawn dimness of this inn’s upper-story room, let him snatch up his shirt from the dresser and yank it over his head. He gripped the sides of the bureau a moment, trying to scrape together some nominal poise; when that utterly failed he whirled to glare at her. “Honestly—how dare you come back? A few hours, you said. A few hours—and in you walk in a week later, blithe as a lark, no knock and no note and it’s ten in the morning, Astarion.” So much for sangfroid. He took two long steps, gripped her shoulders and shook her. “Where have you been?”

She blinked up at him like a particularly dim owl. “A week?”

“Yes, dear,” he hissed through his teeth. “A week.”

—

Links: FF.net, AO3

#astarion #tav #tavstarion #baldur's gate 3 #i really made myself laugh writing this so i hope you enjoy it! #quark writes

[zellink]

all the bells say - chapter 10: Weak Point

a pre-calamity zelink longfic. [M-rated // chapter 10 of 28 // Act 2 of 5]

>>Read chapter on AO3 or start from the beginning >>here

Chapter excerpt:

She waits. Watches his back, the subtle rise and fall of his squared shoulders as he watches the horizon. Recalls the times she has seen him this way—an unobstructed view of purple and gold and blue before her eyes. Two months ago, at the castle’s eastern assembly yard, a pot lid on his left arm and a destroyed Guardian in front of him. Three hours ago, out there in the sand. Silence grows thick in the air, but she endures it. If silence is what he requires, what he wants, then she’ll give it to him. She’ll pour it into a crystal jar and tie a bow around it, proffer it to him. She’ll take his silence and sangfroid, promises not to poke and prod if that’s what he desires. It’s the least she can do after what he’s done for her—after everything.

>>Read chapter on AO3

#bells tag #my fic #zelink #zelink fic #botw fic #botw #tloz fic #the legend of zelda #breath of the wild #first chapter of act 2 yayyyy #now off i go to finish act 3

[vintagetvstars]

Eva Gabor Vs. Anne Francis

Propaganda

Eva Gabor - (Green Acres) - she's freakin adorable on Green Acres. her character lisa douglas is so blorbo - they could have easily made her character mean and catty and resentful of living in the country but instead she's the sweetest person ever. also her and eddie albert had great chemistry on the show and played off each other as husband and wife super well (they were friends in real life, too)

Anne Francis - (Honey West) - Honey West was a character who had to blend the streetwise sangfroid of a secret agent, the quick action of a hardboiled detective, and the glamour of a top model, and Anne Francis nails it. She's cool, she's vampy, she's never afraid to talk down to stuffy 60s men, and she even works in some comedy. She's utterly elegant.

Master Poll List of the Hot Vintage TV Ladies Bracket

Additional propaganda below the cut

Eva Gabor:

MeTV Presents The Best of Lisa Douglas

Anne Francis:

#vintage tv stars poll #tv ladies 1 #eva gabor #anne francis #Youtube

[honourablejester]

A while back, you made a post about your thoughts with the potential of there being so many dead gods in the Astral Sea, and it really got me thinking.

What sort of person willingly ventures into corpses of dead gods, not just to pull out fragments of their divinity, but for *any* reason? The danger must be ludicrous, coming that close to the corpse of a literal divine, *especially* if there are still fragments of its own divinity remaining.

I was wondering if you had any thoughts or concepts to go along with that.

Do you mean like, character concepts? What sort of adventurers would knowingly take jobs to plunder the corpses of the divine?

That’s a question with a lot of potential answers to it. Every character would probably have their own rationale for their willingness, or desire. Defiance. ‘The fact that they’re dead to be looted proves they’re not that much bigger and better than us!’. Pragmatism. ‘A corpse is a corpse is a corpse. Let’s just do the job and be done’. Fascination. ‘Do you not see how incredible this is? We’re inside a dead divinity. Imagine what we could learn!’. Power. ‘This thing used to be a god. There has to be something in here that would give us a leg up out there!’. Desperation. ‘Look, man, I know it’s creepy as hell, but I need that fucking money.’ Determined obliviousness. ‘Look, I don’t care what this thing used to be, right now it’s just a weird rock in space, okay? Just keep your cool and get through this, all right?’. Thrill-seeking/Fame-seeking. ‘How many people have ever crept into the corpse of a dead god and made it back out alive? We’re gonna be the first, baby!’. Genuine lack of concern. ‘Eh, what’s the worst that could happen?’. Weird reverence. ‘We are touching a fragment of the divine! Partaking of it. Is that not wonderous?’.

There’s a lot of reasons, basically. Every character would decide how they’re going to react and reconcile themselves to what they’re doing. I don’t really have mechanical concepts here, I feel like this is more in the realm of personalities/ideals/beliefs/bonds.

It would be kinda cool and/or funny, though, to have a normal, completely bog-standard graverobber, as in guys who dig up dead humanoid bodies for a living, and then suddenly present them with a much bigger corpse. For reasons. You got hired for a job back on good old terra firma because your client heard of your sangfroid and pragmatism, then you’re abruptly shanghaied into space, and informed that this particular job involves a slightly different class of corpse. And then you can be like, listen. Listen. I’m not sure what you think goes on in my job. But there is a bit of a difference between digging up some coffins and knocking the odd zombie over the head, and whatever the blind bleeding hell you’ve got going on here. Okay?

Though granted, in that case, they’re not exactly willingly plundering the corpses of dead gods. At least not initially. But it would be funny and/or a pretty good boxed crook concept, though. Heh.

Any help at all?

#d&d #character concepts #spelljammer #deities #graverobbers #i just enjoy graverobbers as a character concept #i still love that pathfinder has a legit background as one #excellent choice!