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sutorus · 7 months

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✰ HC: BEING IN A SITUATIONSHIP WITH THE JJK F*CKBOYS

DESCRIPTION: my hcs on what it’d be like to be in a situationship/fwb situation with the jjk men hehe

FEATURED: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem + afab reader, this is fully self indulgent i'm just taking my own shiddy experiences and coping via hot anime men, suggestive content/smut, pretty standard manwhore behavior, slightly toxic, not wholesome, kinda crack tbh, some mentions of degradation as a kink, objectifying women, just like the real thing lol!

A/N: LONG BUT READ! this will Not have an ending where you get together at least not rn these are just my hcs all in good fun ur just having fun ok ur not heartbroken everything is okay. they are not good boys here they are normal regular boys

GOJO SATORU

has way too many hoes. way too many

so much so that he gave up on remembering their names and just saves their numbers like “osaka w the hand kink”, “big tits shibari”, “slut from trig”, “hostess best bjs”

has someone’s boobs with his name written on them in sharpie as his wallpaper

says i love you when he cums inside and you never know if you should believe it

throws you off when he agrees to meet your friends only for him to flirt with them in front of you

takes you to the best clubs with bottle service, lets the girls sit on his lap and laughs when you get mad

pays for your ubers everywhere every time

into the weirdest shit like wearing your underwear laughing like a lunatic the whole time he’s fucking you then after he cums gets sulky and embarrassed

lays it on thick with the pet names, gives zero fucks if that confuses you even further

very public with you and it makes you wonder how many other girls put themselves through this humiliation just for the d

gets jealous about you being with other people and needs to prove himself by eating it from the back or something

fwb with gojo is just a huge mindfuck honestly he doesn’t take anything seriously and this is no different sorry! it’s fun tho!

GETO SUGURU

keeps it extremely platonic because he likes to tell himself he has a conscience

too busy for regular chit chat ignores your texts all day then hits you up when he wants to fuck

even more of a whore than gojo is which is why he makes sure not to lead anyone on he just does not need the trouble

answers all your personal questions about him with one word answers

he lets you choose the movie for netflix and chill at least! but will never remember it or the fact that it’s your favorite :(

cleans you up after sex and brings you water

has female hygiene products in his bathroom which is both a red and a green flag

lets you stay after sex and you just lay there on his bed watching him do stuff on his computer but he will not be talking to you

never calls you baby or anything when he’s fucking you just goes oh fuck yeah right there fuuuuck your pussy

genuinely respects you and has nice decent sex with you unless you tell him that you’re kinky

in which case he fucks you just how you want it and gets off on how turned on you are

not one of those guys who gets jealous of sex toys and holds the wand on your clit for you

likes to make you cum over and over and over again

fwb with geto makes your heart clench because he’s just such a gentleman but you got way too much competition to even think about it

NANAMI KENTO

a professional in every sense of the word

uses sex as stress relief

thinks he's too old for this shit but you make him feel alive so he fucks you like he can empty all of his frustrations into you

invites you to his apartment serves you expensive liquor and lets you initiate things most times unless he’s too pent up

can actually have very nice conversations with you

never has the “what are we talk” because he makes it clear he’s too busy for a relationship

lets you spend the night if it’s too late but solely for your safety/logistics

does your taxes for you but will not call you anything beyond an “acquaintance”

texts you happy holidays but does not know when your birthday is

gets tested consistently even though he’s not fucking anyone else and always uses a condom unless you beg him not to

eats you out because he thinks it’s relaxing and spends hours prepping you

the sexual tension is soooo thick when you two fuck all you can hear is grunts and growls and moans and wet slapping sounds and it’s so hot

has some random turn ons like gets bricked up when you’re wearing lipstick or stockings

fwb with nanami is very enjoyable and easy it’ll get complicated if you develop feelings because he does not want to date but who cares yolo am i right

FUSHIGURO TOJI

broke ass deadbeat dad why are you into him

absolutely nasty sex

you know if he had a girlfriend he’d respect her too much to do the things he does to you

dick game so bomb that you’re scared he’s gonna give you a child even when he’s wearing a condom

wants to fuck you every way he possibly can on every fuckable surface with zero regard for your physical integrity

eats his cum right out of you

ego is so big, grins so wide and fucks you so hard when you stroke his muscles

loves to eat pussy but only after he’s fucked you because he likes it tight and hot with minimal prep

doesn’t follow you on any social media but jerks off to your instagram pics

has like 3 different phone numbers and you don’t know why

has only let you come over once, didn’t let you shower after

no pet names but calls you a dirty whore and other degrading shit

loves it if you cry on his dick

doesn’t give a fuck about your safety sorry you’re on your own

has never told you his last name

one time you asked to see a picture of his son and he didn’t speak for 3 whole minutes

fwb with toji is the nastiest sex you’ve ever had truly it’s just sinful and everyone’s dark hidden fantasy half of it you couldn’t tell your closest friends because it’s just too much

a/n sorry

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heartless-aro · 4 months

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So much of the arophobia directed towards aromantic heterosexual men seems to be rooted in willful ignorance about what aromanticism actually is and how allosexual aromanticism differs from sexual objectification. Aromanticism is experiencing little to no romantic attraction towards others. That’s it. It isn’t the same as sending unsolicited dick picks to strangers or reducing women to their bodies. When a misogynistic man disregards a woman’s personhood in favor of treating her as a sexual object, it isn’t because he doesn’t experience romantic attraction to women. It’s because he chooses not to value women as people.

That has nothing to do with whether or not the man in question experiences romantic attraction. You can respect someone’s personhood without being romantically attracted to them. In fact, if you can’t respect a woman’s personhood without being attracted to her, then that is misogynistic. However, there is nothing inherently misogynistic about finding a woman sexy (even if you aren’t romantically interested in her!), nor is there anything inherently misogynistic about having casual sex with a woman who has enthusiastically consented to having casual sex. (Because, yes. Women CAN consent to having casual sex without being tricked into it via false promises of romance. Women are fully capable of deciding for themselves what they want to do with their bodies. Just because a woman does something with her body that makes you uncomfortable—like casual sex—doesn’t mean she’s a helpless victim who needs you to rescue her from her own autonomy.)

It also just seems so bizarre to me to claim that aromantic heterosexual men don’t face any stigma related to their aromanticism. Do you really think a man who has never had a crush on a woman won’t face any stigma for that? If a heterosexual man says that he has never gone on a date or has never had his first kiss, how do people react to that? Social norms for how men engage with romance are different from how women are expected to engage with romance; that doesn’t change the fact that men are still expected to engage with romance in certain normative ways.

Of course, aromanticism is not the same as just not going on dates or not kissing people. That is just one of many ways that aromanticism can look. But aromantic experiences are diverse, so it’s difficult to give a one-size-fits-all example of how aromantic heterosexual people are affected by arophobia. What I’m trying to express here is that aromantic people often don’t engage with romance in the way that society expects us to (if we engage with romance at all) and that, furthermore, men are often perceived differently when they do not conform to those expectations.

#aro #aromantic #arophobia #alloaro #aroallo #things i wrote in one sitting without editing or proofreading #cw sexism #cw sex mention #cw arophobia #does this make sense?#long post

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belit0 · 7 months

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ahh, i just found out tobirama was about 40 when he became hokage! which makes him even hotter🤭. can you do a hokage tobirama and his young pregnant shy wife meeting his family and like people around the village

I need to EXPLICTLYYYY know where you got that information from bc confirming that he was a daddy brings a different flavor to his character🫠❤️‍🩹

For clarification purposes: Madara is blind in this piece. Hashirama healed Izuna before he died, under Madara's acceptance of peace, and Aniki never took his younger brother's eyes, preferring to go blind rather than steal his sight.

No one dares to look him in the eye, let alone question the possessive hand that won't let go of (Y/N)'s hips. Her belly is too prominent to deny the situation, but no one is used to seeing the current Hokage with his wife.

Senju Tobirama devoted himself to hiding the woman he promised as a bride, unable to tolerate stares at her and unfortunate comments. Both men and women would send lust and desire toward her, and he would have no way to stop them all. What better remedy than to shelter (Y/N) until his ownership is undeniable?

Tobirama can be quite capricious.

The man even went as far as not allowing his own older brother to meet her, Hashirama himself excluded from the equation. To think that the former Hokage could betray his younger brother like that was ridiculous to everyone, but it wasn't about lust with him. No.

Tobirama hid (Y/N) because he refused to lose the one ray of light in his life (after Anija's solar shower, of course). His past is made up of death and disappointment, built as an unfeeling weapon of war by his father, robbed of the ability to empathize with anyone until the creation of Konoha.

His wife brought a peace he didn't know he needed into his life, a breath of fresh air even as nations struggled to not cooperate with peace, freedom among so much horror and suffering. (Y/N) showed him that life could be spent out of survival mode, that he could relax for sleep and accept another person into his bed without danger.

Having found what he always sought without knowing it, Tobirama could not afford to lose it.

Keeping her away from everything and everyone (beyond his possible jealousy) was also composed by the need to protect her, to remove her from the spotlight that inevitably comes with being the Hokage's future wife, to prevent her from being used against him. The albino's attitudes were based on affection, but now that (Y/N) is round with his creation, full of him, he can't help but proudly display her.

He strolls through the market streets with his head held high and his wife tightly in his grip, shooting hostile glances at anyone who looks at them for more than five minutes at a time. Of course he expects people to be surprised, but he doesn't want her to end up with the evil eye either.

"Hokage-Sama! Here, here!" shouts a little old lady from his favorite food stall. He can't ignore people from his village, those who trust him, and comes up to her stall to give her a smile unbecoming of Tobirama. "You look very happy, Hokage-Sama!"

"Ah... how could a man not be, having such a beautiful woman by his side?" And (Y/N) blushes, waving slightly at the little old lady and trying to hide the redness of her cheeks behind the sleeve of her yukata.

The elderly woman smiles, and hands them both a small package of food without accepting anything in return, "here, here, take this, enjoy life!" She practically pushes them out of her stall, and they resume walking to the point they agreed on with Hashirama.

People stare and stare at them, some even dare to congratulate the Hokage, give him blessings, ask if he could feel how many children are there. Some inquiries make him uncomfortable, and with just a blunt look he gets rid of those prying eyes.

They receive more gifts along the way, offerings of love and respect, food and decorations, townspeople declaring their eagerness to meet the Hokage's offspring. Tobirama would not expect to have interacted with so many people in such a short distance, and his social battery is noticeably drained, squeezing (Y/N) more and more protectively against his body.

By the time they reach Hashirama's house, the Hokage no longer wants anything to do with anyone.

"Ayoooooo! Tobi! You made it!" his older brother waits for them sitting at the door, like a little kid waiting for his dad to come home from work. The problem is, Hashirama is not a child, and not little one either. He pounces on the two, wrapping his arms around them and pressing their faces to his chest, invasive and effusive as always but enhanced by (Y/N)'s presence.

"Aaaa! (Y/N)! Finally released from your confinement! It's so beautiful to finally meet you!" Anija lets go of him, only to squeeze her separately, give her kisses on the crown of her head and clench her cheeks like a grandmother. Yes, Hashirama could be compared to a grandmother. "Have you looked... I mean, in there? See what's in there? We could ask Izuna to-"

"No."

"But-"

"No. It's a surprise." Tobirama pulls (Y/N) out of his arms, and hugging her enters the house he knows by heart. He heads straight for the courtyard, where he knows Hashirama (who comes behind him with his head down and feigning sadness) enjoys afternoons of tea.

Of course, he does not expect the surprise his brother has prepared for him there.

The whole clan, the whole damn family is gathered around a huge table, different from the one Anija prefers for his solitary lunches. Sitting in the two main seats, the Uchiha brothers, who have no business in a Senju house, full of Senju men and women.

Is this what peace looks like? Graphically represented? Tobirama wants to vomit.

"TOBIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!" He is greeted by his entire family as a whole, and the elders soon hover over both of them. Females kidnap (Y/N) to shower her with questions and love, all a carbon copy of how Hashirama behaves but boosted to the tenth.

The albino is also abducted, but by the young men and his older brother, who seems to have regained his cheerfulness. They sit him down in front of the Uchiha brothers, and it's like sending a cow to the slaughter.

"Tobi Tobes... I didn't know your family called you like that, neither that your wife was SO pregnant... He hides too many things from us, right Aniki?" Izuna starts, as usual, not missing a chance to poke him with whatever comes in front of him.

"Hm."

"How many children do you have there? 3? She's... prominent!"

"Get my wife out of your mouth before I make you remember why the war existed in the first place." It's a blunt threat, and the young men around him tense up. Peace is old at this point, but the habits of a life that no longer exists are hard to forget.

"He's joking! Yes, yes, he's kidding! No tobi?" Hashirama tries to disperse the waters, and it works, at least with those who don't know them inside out. Madara knows what's coming, and so does he somehow.

"You want me to see how many are there? With the Sharingan, I mean... it's not like I actually want to get inside-"

"Izuna. Enough." Aniki tries, and succeeds until the albino glares at his little brother.

"Madara... you're blind, but if only could you see the size of that woman's belly..."

"IZUNA!" This time it's Hashirama, who gets indignant every time the Uchiha speaks so lightly about his brother's eye condition. Maybe it's the way they both have of cooperating with the situation, but it's still terrible in his ears.

The Uchiha leader chuckles under his breath, and it's all the validation Izuna needs to go on.

"So, what do you say, Tobi Tobes, want to check it out?" and before he can activate his Dōjutsu, two huge branches stop them both. Tobirama, who was in the process of pulling out a kunai and jumping to his throat, is imprisoned in his seat. Izuna, about to reveal the mystery the couple wanted to keep, has a huge trunk wrapped around his head in the eye area.

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you too."

"Fuck all of you guys." And everyone turns around in surprise, because this time it's (Y/N) doing the talking. She puts a hand on her husband's shoulder, dodging the wood on him, and gives a pleasant smile to the Uchiha brothers. "We'll find out how many children are here at the time of delivery, for the time being, I appreciate your efforts, Lord Izuna."

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kasagia · 4 months

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❄️️Warm my heart pt. 5❄️️

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/ The Darkling x fem! heartrender! reader Summary: You're getting closer, closer, closer and closer... and noticed. Word Count: 3,2k Taglist:@aoi-targaryen @budugu @flostvs1508 ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova’s Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 4 ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 6 ~•♤♤♤•~

"Something funny?" his question pulls you out of the letter. You glance at him briefly, slowly fold the letter, and put it in your pocket, still smiling.

"Nothing special. Can we return to further discussion?" you ask as he sits down in front of you and places two glasses of kvass on the table.

You didn't talk about… that night. Or previous events. There was a consensual silence between you regarding those events. A silence that was anything but peaceful. It was more like before the storm. But you both chose to ignore it. You had more important things on your mind.

"There is no need. I've already told you. Tracker and some of our people are going to haunt the stag until we won't get the bones. End of discussion."

"But it's Christmas. Is this stag that important? You don't have to send after this poor animal almost 30 of our people." you try to convince him, but he only rolls his eyes in annoyance.

"Y/N. I appreciate your opinion, but no one and nothing will change my mind. Not you, not Alina, not Zoya, not any women, do you understand?"

"Why didn't you mention Ivan or Fedyor, or any men?" you ask, crossing your arms, now as irritated as he was just a few seconds ago.

"Because they know too well to try to oppose me."

"Oppose you?" you huff, glaring at him defiantly. "With all due respect, you don't know what it's like when someone REALLY tries to oppose you. At least not in the last month." you see him take a breath to say something, but one look from him at you makes him change his mind and shake his head. He takes the glass and drinks it before deciding to answer you.

"Can we... can we just go back to read those reports and finally write the orders to units? Please." he asks. You sigh and take your pen in hand, continuing to write down on the paper, in a more logical way, notes containing some of your plans.

"If you insist." you mumble over the paper.

"No whining?" he asks in shock and you bite your lip to avoid saying something rude.

"No." you say, shaking your head and reaching for a glass of kvass.

"And you're not offended?"

"Since when do you care?" you snap at him, annoyed. Not only did he stupidly stick to his opinion, but he also made you look like an offensive brat.

"Y/N." he says it calmly, and you raise your gaze to him. He didn't seem like he was doing it maliciously, more like he was making sure everything was okay. Which only added to your irritation. You close your eyes and sigh before answering him.

"No. I'm not."

"Your tone of voice is telling me something entirely different." you narrow your eyes at him and he just shrugs his arms.

"Should I smile at you sweetly to make you sure about that?" you ask teasingly, and he nods, leaving you surprised.

"Yes, please." he says, wanting to see you smiling at him at all costs. He missed this view. You both had a lot on your minds lately, and dark circles under your eyes were starting to appear under your eyes as well as under his own. And he despised them terribly. He smiles, though, feeling a strange warmth dissipate in his chest as you giggle in amusement and give him a mischievous smile. "That's better." he mumbles, shifting his gaze to the papers.

He can't feel like this. He shouldn't want... you. Not after what he went through last time.

And after that night, where he almost gave in to his desires, he promised himself that you wouldn't be his second Luda. You'll end up better than her. He won't let anything happen to you because of him.

"You know... I got something for you." you say, snapping him from his thoughts.

"For me? On what occasion?" he asks, surprised, shifting in his chair. He dropped the papers on the desk and focused his attention on you as you nervously stroked the edges of the report, straightening the corners.

"When I was a child, we used to draw lots a few weeks before Christmas to choose a family member to give a gift to. You know, a small present before the big one. And since I spent half of December fighting for my life with a fever and swimming in frozen rivers, I didn't have time to give it to you earlier."

"Why did you..."

"We drew lots for whom we would buy a gift." you interrupt him before he has a chance to ask you a question. "Me, Fedyor, Alina, Mal, Zoya, even Ivan, and the rest. I had Mal, but since you decided to send him to hell knows where, I figured I might as well give you something."

"Whatever bribe you want to give me, tracker and others don't come back without a stag." he says, crossing his arms. You giggle softly at that.

"I'm fully aware, donkey."

"You're treading on thin ice." he says menacingly, but he can't help but tilt his lips upward slightly in kind of a small smile.

"It's good that you're close; maybe you'll save me again. Come on. Just open it. I promise, I didn't ask David to put any explosives in there." he rolls his eyes but takes the box from you that you left under his desk. He turns the small box over in his hand and shakes it gently, assessing the size and heaviness of the gift. "Are you really expecting a terrorist attack? From me?"

"You stabbed me with a letter opener."

"That was ages ago!" you shout, offended and blushing. "Besides, how was I supposed to know you'd just walk into the war room and stand behind me?!"

"Who normally throws a letter opener behind them?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. He slowly begins to unwrap the box.

"It was from my grandparents. You know how we get along. Besides, I've apologised to you a thousand times."

"And apparently my mental health has been damaged, and now I can't trust you around with any weapon or mistery presents." he teases; you whine at this, and he starts laughing. You smile at the sound and shake your head.

Suddenly, he stops laughing. He holds on to his breath as he carefully examines your gift. It's not a big thing. A simple, black pendant. What is more important is its content, which he stares at in amazement.

"I... I know you don't believe in any saints or stuff like that, but... I noticed that every time we're in the chapel for some kind of celebration, you stare at the stained glass window of Sankta Ursula of the Waves. I found it in some flea markets while we were searching for a stag. I immediately thought of you."

"I…" he has no idea what to say. He didn't know you were watching him so carefully. That you actually care. But now… you didn't even know what it meant to him. Especially since the pendant you gave him and the portrait of Sankt were an exact representation of his sister. Not like that terrible stained glass window. "Thank you." he whispers shakily, because it's all he can do.

You took away his words. More than once. He should get used to this. I want to get used to it. But he can't. He won't risk losing you for a few moments... a few moments that are a young boy's dream.

"Anytime. May I?"

He nods. You stand behind him and take the necklace from him. You roll up the collar of his kefta so you can fasten it around his neck.

Your fingers brush against the skin of his neck, and he has to bite his lip (almost to the point of bleeding) to keep from letting out any embarrassment moan at the small touch.

He despised himself. His mother would mock him so much for weakness and vulnerability like this... but all he could do was sit quietly and appreciate your every little touch.

"Do you like it?" you whisper softly, still standing behind him. Your hands on his arms burn him, despite the thick layers of clothes he's wearing.

"I love it." he answers faster than he can think. He knows you can feel his heart beating wildly. He feels himself turning even redder.

"I'm glad you like it, Aleksander."

He feels blood on his mouth as he bites his bottom lip, hearing you whisper in his ear his real name. He was alternately regretful and glad that you knew it. In moments like this... he wasn't sure which feeling prevailed. Suddenly, he realises that he is gripping the arm of the chair so tightly that his knuckles are white.

Where was the fucking control he had spent years practicing when he needed it most? Where are the walls he painstakingly built around his stupid heart?

One heartrender was enough for all his composure to go to hell. And the worst thing was that, deep in his heart, he wanted to lose himself in you.

He stands up from his chair and turns towards you, looking down at you, trying to intimidate you as his shadows dance around you. But you just came closer. He holds his breath and tries to take a step back, but realises there's no escape as he slams his hips against the desk.

"Y/N."

"Aleksander."

You exchange whispers between the two of you, staring deeply into each other's eyes.

The sudden outburst makes you both shiver. Aleksander automatically grabs your arm and pulls you behind him, covering you as he listens.

"Stay here." he whispers as he takes a step towards the window.

You grab his elbow tightly and stop him. He turns to you, raising an eyebrow questioningly. You shake your head, staring at him defiantly. He rolls his eyes and grabs your waist, tightening his grip as you both walk carefully towards the balcony.

You see smoke rising from the Durasts' workshop.

"Damn it, 5th time in this year." Aleksander curses under his breath, and he releases his grip on your waist.

"They're working on transportation through the fold, be gentle with them."

He sighs and rubs his hand over his eyes. The tiredness becomes clearer on his face as he realises that he's going to have a long night ahead of him.

"I'll try my best. Go to bed, milaya. One of us should be rested." before he knows what he's actually doing, he walks up to you and kisses your forehead.

You stand frozen, feeling his lips on your skin, your heart racing at his gesture more than from adrenaline at the sudden outburst. And then he walks away quickly, leaving you alone.

You can't help but smirk as you watch him disappear into the shadows.

Aleksander is pissed. Nor. He is furious. Mad. Not because of the outburst that happened last night, but because he found out that you were getting more and more letters.

And he managed to intercept one. It was from Mal fucking Ortsev. The tracker you so desperately wanted back at the palace for stupid Christmas.

Everything made sense. Every kind gesture you made this month. And now he was storming through the halls of the Little Palace, straight to the kitchen where the guards had told him you would be, holding an unopened letter from your lover in your hand. A lover who, he will make sure, will never see the gates of Os Alta again.

He storms into the kitchen, and you almost manage to cool his anger when he sees you in an apron, baking some cake. You were singing something under your breath, probably one of those annoying songs that were played in every corner of Ravka.

And he almost melted, fascinated by the sight of you so... calm. A strange fantasy played in his head. You and him together, cooking something for the damn Christmas, decorating the house. He never had a real Christmas. Baghra wasn't sentimental enough to celebrate it, and she taught him the same, but with you... he would do all those stupid things.

Seeing you in this homey atmosphere almost took him off his warpath. Almost.

Until he remembered the letter he was holding and imagined the tracker doing all those things with you. He slammed the door loudly and waited for your reaction.

You screamed, spilling some of the flour you were holding onto the floor. You looked at him, and you were ready to yell at him for scaring you when you saw the look on his face.

"What happened?" you ask, brushing your hair off your forehead and getting flour all over it in the process.

In any other circumstances, he would have laughed; he would have been completely enchanted by your state. But now he was seeing red, imagining every single love letter that you could have written to that damn tracker.

"All these gifts, sweet words—all of it was for your tracker, right? You don't know this boy, you don't know what he is like, and yet you try to undermine my authority and change my decision just for some orphan from Keramzin! What does he have, huh?! What has blinded you, MY SECOND-IN-COMMAND, that you so desperately want this rash fool, who only gets into trouble because of his own stupidity?! Is he really worth risking my wrath?!"

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

"THIS!" he slams his hand with the letter on the table between you. He glares at you furiously as you look at him with an equally defiant attitude. You take the letter and look at it in disbelief and anger.

"Do you monitor my correspondence?!"

"I should have done this ages ago! At least you wouldn't make a fool of me! You can say goodbye to your lovely tacker; I'll make sure he never again sets his foot in Os Alta."

"SERIOUSLY?! Look at me carefully, because I'll only say this once: MAL AND I ARE NOT TOGETHER!"

"Of course." he laughs mockingly and is about to leave the kitchen. You run to him and grab his arm tightly, forcing the letter into his hands.

"Read it." you say it coldly and firmly as you control yourself enough not to scream at him in anger.

"What?" he asks dazedly at your command, looking between your furious eyes and the letter you're pushing into his hands with all your might.

"Do you want to blame me for something? Go right ahead. Read. Prove yourself right." he takes the letter from you.

Jealousy and rage were still present in him, as well as a hint of sadness and hurt. That's what it was. Proof that all of this, every kind gesture, smile, look, touch, kiss—well, not a real one—was intended to bring you closer to another man. A man whose insides he would feed to volcras.

"Here you go." he opens the letter and clears his throat dramatically as he begins to read. "Dear Y/N. Thank you for your help. Alina was overjoyed with her gift. I don't know how to thank you. I'd love to be there for her, but I'm glad that at least you can take care of my beloved while I look for some damn stag…" he falls silent while reading, looking for something more in the letter he has in his hands. He blushes with embarrassment, realising the mistake he has made.

"See?" you ask him and gently cup his cheek with your hand, forcing him to look at you.

"But... the other letters..." he whispers, confused.

"I exchanged them with my brother."

There is a long silence between you as he digests all the information and realises the mistake he has made. He turns even redder at the rashness of his actions. He, who boasted of his patience and the fact that he was never wrong. The slightest suspicion that your heart belonged to someone else was enough to make him want to spill some blood and commit murder. And not yours, but that damn tracker's.

"Oh... the youngest one I guess?" he asks, trying to camouflage his earlier behavior. Or at least forget about it for a moment and let his heart slow down to a normal rhythm. He already humiliated himself enough in front of you.

"Yes." you confirm, a stupid smile on your lips. He swallows, nervous.

"Umm... that's lovely."

"He asked me if I'm coming home for Christams." you tell him, and he holds his breath for a moment, looking at you in anticipation. You don't say anything further. So he clears his throat and prepares to ask the question.

"Are you?"

"No. I'm staying in the Little Palace this year." for some strange reason, these few words bring him more joy than anything else in his several hundred years of life.

"Taht's... that's good. That's good to hear." he nods, unable to look you in the eye. You lick your lips, shifting your gaze towards the kitchen for a moment.

"Do you want to join me?"

"I beg you pardon?" he asks, confused. You nodded towards the bowls and cake you were baking before he came in and… jumped to the wrong conclusions. "I haven't… I haven't cooked for a while." he admits shyly. And you smile fondly as you see him so… ordinary for the first time. Humanly.

"Well, it's the best time to do it again, don't you think?" you ask and are about to pull him towards the table and the ingredients you prepared to make a cake when you feel the urge to look up. And you see mistletoe.

He also looks up and freezes at what he sees. A shiver of excitement and anxiety runs through his body. It was late at night. No one in their right mind would come here. No one would interrupt you.

He unconsciously leans towards you. He slowly lifts his hand and brushes your hair away from your face, gently brushing the flour from your forehead with his thumb. You giggle softly.

You cup his cheeks with your hands, and Aleksander sees in slow motion how you pull him towards you. Your lips get closer... but instead of moving to his lips, you place a tender kiss on his cheek.

His beard tickles you a little, and he can't help but feel deprived and tricked when your warm lips are limited to just caressing his cheek. He almost growls, exasperated, when, as quickly as you cling to him, you pull away.

"Put an apron on. We don't want to have your black kefta covered in flour." you say and go back to the table. You smile evilly. He didn't deserve a kiss after his little act today, but next time...

You squeal as he grabs you from behind and dumps a bag of flour over your head.

"ALEKSANDER!" you shout, and he laughs loudly, not caring at all that anyone might have heard his name. He tries to get away from you when you throw eggs at him.

When you are laughing and throwing everything at each other, you don't notice that the kitchen door is slowly and silently closing. And someone's footsteps echo through the corridors of the Little Palace.

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highfantasy-soul · 2 months

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Ok, here's my breakdown of Jessie Gender's video on NATLA. I decided not to post this as a comment on the video because I just don't feel like it would be productive, but I needed to refute the points she was making as she's a quite respected (at least, I really respect her opinions on things) video essayist and I felt like this video was...wild.

So, I guess it's best to just watch along with her video and read my commentary side-by-side because I don't give much context for my points, this is just a stream-of-consciousness style response.

To be perfectly clear - this is not intended to be a 'hate post' about her, this is just me feeling very strongly that the interpretations of things she had in her video needed to be talked about and another perspective given.

I shift from saying 'you' to 'Jessie' like halfway through (when I decided not to post this as a comment) but I don't feel like going through and changing all those, so yeah, just ignore it.

1) you insulted a martial arts kata as 'a mildly choreographed dance' - it shows a complete lack of understanding of other cultures and a desire to take a quick dig at something you didn't like in a way that insults a cultural practice. I really didn't expect to hear that sort of comment from you so it was pretty jarring when you said it. Ironically, you say that Sokka was wrong to assume the Kyoshi warrior's kata was a 'dance' because that's 'a girl's place' when...you literally made the same insult with not a hint of recognition just a few minutes earlier about a movie you didn't like…

2) I felt that the live-action really deepened a lot of the themes from the OG - take Iroh's storyline for example, fleshing out Suki's character so she's...you know, her own character and not just there to teach Sokka a lesson, and delving into how hard of decisions you have to make during a century long war. Idk, I'm just really curious as to how you felt quite literally the polar opposite of me

3) Sokka's sexism: the animated show handled it one way, but Sokka's treating women as 'less than' wasn't a core part of his character - in all honesty, it doesn't actually make any sense as he was raised by Hakoda (who we never see being sexist), Gran Gran (who left the NWT due to its sexism), and was surrounded mostly by older women. The sexism storyline in the cartoon was to teach a very blatant lesson to kids "don't be sexist, boys!" while the live-action made Sokka's struggles much more realistic and in line with the world building: he struggled with non-traditional masculinity and if he was 'allowed' to be that way while they were at war. For me, it's a much more important message for young men today than the very dated 'women can fight, too!' message that was needed in the early 2000s. It's very odd to me how you claim that Sokka always taking charge isn't ever challenged when...in literally the scene you're showing when you say that, Katara challenges him.

4) I'm sorry, but I cannot possibly see how Suki is her own person more in the animated version than in the live-action. She was literally created solely to teach Sokka a lesson and have no character traits other than 'I'm a strong woman warrior' where 'woman' means 'I like romance' rather than...I'm a whole person with my own wants and desires and fears that have nothing to do with a love interest as is shown in the live-action. You keep comparing the animated and live action as though they were trying to tell the same story about Sokka's journey with his role in the world, but they weren't. Of course Suki's attitude toward him is going to be different, of course he's not going to need to tell her 'you're right, I'm a dumb, terrible man, pretty please could you teach me', because it's a different dynamic they're going for in the live-action.

5) When Sokka pinned her in their lesson in the live-action idk how you got that she was 'demuring herself' to Sokka? Just as in the cartoon, he managed to get the upper hand - which she promptly took back, teaching a lesson along the way. She didn't make herself less so Sokka could feel secure in his masculinity - it's a bit odd you feel that showing respect to someone and helping them learn is 'demuring yourself'. I much prefer them respecting each other than the animated version of them seeing each other as less than and then...her giving him a kiss to prove 'see, I'm a romance-loving girl, too'.

5) To me, Suki beating Sokka in the live-action when the first sparred wasn't her being mean, it was her not understanding how much less experience Sokka had fighting - she genuinely thought he would be able to hold his own against her because he had told her he was the best warrior in his tribe. Her face clearly shows 'I have no idea what I did wrong - I thought that type of sparring is what everyone did for fun, why was he uncomfortable with it?' Not really sure why you made the connection that us seeing Sokka's abs was meant to indicate that his insecurities are unfounded when...literally the whole season shows us that Sokka's struggles aren't "end goal = big strong warrior" but rather "you don't have to be a big strong warrior to help, you are allowed to delve into other aspects of who you are and those are just as important". Just because he has muscles, also doesn't mean he's a competent fighter - those two things aren't the same.

6) It feels like you took certain scenes and made wildly left-field interpretations of them and then claimed that that's what the show was intending you to take from it. It's like saying that the scene that cuts from Sokka saying he bets Momo tastes like chicken and cutting to the scene that shows people cooking meat actually means the showrunners are saying Sokka is going to cook and eat Momo this season and that will then give him the powers of the Avatar. It's very clearly not what the showrunners were saying, but if you interpret it in the least forgiving way and then make a wild leap off that, then yeah, you might get upset with that made-up interpretation. Same with the reasons they didn't put Sokka in the Kyoshi outfit - there is 0 evidence of them nixing that part due to transphobia. I didn't see it as any malicious intent, just a streamline of the plot so Sokka doesn't have to go change before running away on Appa.

7) I feel that the live-action DOES challenge the Fire Bender's colonialist rhetoric in the Kyoshi Island episode, but the animated...doesn't? At all? It's solely about girl power - and as we see with Azula and all the women fire nation soldiers, the fire nation doesn't seem too caught up in sexism. You know what they are caught up in? Which you mention? Bender supremacy. And that's what the live-action directly addresses with Sokka being so surprised that Suki is able to hold her own so well even though she isn't a bender. He's seen just how powerful benders are (they destroyed his home, killed his mom, and beat his ass last episode) and it's in line with the worldbuilding that he feels like he's already several steps behind in being a good enough warrior because he doesn't have bending (a storyline that isn't brought up until an episode in season 3 of the animated show). To me, the live-action Kyoshi storyline refutes the Fire Nation's imperialistic themes much better than the animated show does.

8) The live-action's lesson wasn't that might makes right - Suki never did any strength training exercises with Sokka, she taught him how to control his body and use his opponent's strength against them. Fight smarter, not harder. Know what you're fighting for, not just that you want to fight. Even if you don't have the resources of your opponent, it doesn't mean you're doomed from the start. That last one is particularly poignant when we look at how much stronger the Fire Nation is than the other nations they're subjugating: it's the classic 'oppressed rising up against their oppressors and not winning because they just punched harder, but because they used what they had to fight for a righteous cause and didn't just give up because the other side was more powerful'. That's quite directly what the live-action was saying - the exact lesson you thought it should be saying. You have to do some serious extrapolating from the animated episode to get to those themes while the live-action drew that concept up to the forefront immediately.

9) Aang's journey to accept his Avatar responsibility and the previous Avatar's enforcing this is directly from the animated series. Like, directly. It's not the live-action show saying 'colonialism good'. Showing the Avatar power wasn't the showrunners saying 'see, this OP is good and cool', it was to show the magnitude of it - something the animated show does too. The live-action does talk about how terrifying and damaging that power is - literally the previous episode has Aang almost toss Katara and Sokka off the mountain and they mention it. Just earlier in that episode, Sokka talks about Aang almost killing them and Aangs major hang up about embracing it is that he might hurt someone. Kyoshi argues that not learning to control it will hurt more people and - y'all, individuals are allowed to have their own views of the power that everyone doesn't have to agree with. What happened to 'make strong characters with flaws in their world view?' did you all of a sudden decide that's NOT actually good writing? So having the Avatar who used her powers liberally, and as the video states, used them maybe too much, telling Aang that he needs to use his own powers a lot is…consistent characterization? Which is then challenged by Roku later as he tells Aang that all the Avatars are different and have different views on the power of the Avatar. Why is Kyoshi's opinions suddenly taken as wholly accurate in representing what the show overall is trying to say? She's giving her opinion to Aang - an opinion that has some truth to it, but also some flaws that Aang will need to navigate on his own journey. Kyoshi and Roku's stories are not compressed all into Kyoshi - only the aspect of Roku taking control of Aang and using his body to fuck shit up in the Avatar state is compressed - not the ideological aspects of it

10) Sokka supporting Katara's fight against Pakku is a culmination of his arc to let go of obsessively protecting her and actually letting her decide her course of action herself - because his arc was different in the show than in the animated series. Trying to say that the reason he told her to kick Pakku's ass didn't fit because he was never sexist wasn't the reason - it WAS a culmination of his arc, you just refused to see it by clinging to the old one.

11) The whole argument as to 'why show genocide' I already made a post about, but to condemn the depiction based on the way you interpret the showrunner's quote is disingenuous. Again, it's taking something and making up a narrative around it so you can feel justified in hating it. It's important to show a culture before they are killed because they deserve to be seen as people, not just martyrs. They had lives. They lived and were happy and had a rich culture. They were not just 'fated to die and be told of in history books'. Genocide is disgusting and hard to watch - it's calculated and brutal. Showing that drives home just how awful the actions of the fire nation are in practice rather than just theory. Yes, the airbenders fighting was 'cool' to see - in the way that all action is 'cool' to see. But no, the genocide wasn't played as 'look at neat fighting!' in the live-action. It was shown as brutal and terrible, horrifying and surprising, and the airbenders didn't deserve what happened to them. It also gives you a direct view of what the fire nation is capable of when they come to the south pole and the northern water tribe: you've SEEN the devastation first hand and you DON'T want to see it again. The threat isn't theoretical, it's very real.

11.5) To take a CHILD'S quote about the sequence being 'so cool' is absolutely WILD to me. GORDON IS A CHILD! No, he's not going to have the most sophisticated and politically nuanced sound bite to say about the action sequence in an interview. HE'S A CHILD! Holy mother of god. To use that to bolster your point that 'that's the way it was intended to be viewed and how everyone is going to view it!' is just…..holy shit. You're taking media interpretation from A CHILD??????? Do you think, if we interviewed a child about the OG show, they'd talk about the fucking colonialism??? How Azula was abused too and didn't deserve her fate?? Or do you think they'd say "The fight between the Fire Lord and Aang at the end was so cool!" Honestly thought Jessie Gender wouldn't try to bolster her interpretation with a quote from A CHILD, but I guess here we are…

12) It's wild that she makes the point that conservatives are incapable of reading deeper than just the surface-level visuals of a story while…she's doing literally the same thing just in the opposite way. The live-action depicted the genocide, therefore they MUST just want to 'cool' visual of firebenders fighting airbenders! There can't be any other things at play here! No story being told whatsoever because all it is is spectacle! That's all I see! Ironically, she's falling into the same trap of not looking deeper at why one might depict the horrors of genocide and the battle against people with no army.

13) Aang actually treats the genocide as more immediate in the live-action than he does the animated show. Most animated episodes, you can forget that it even happened, while in the animated show, it pops up a lot in some unexpected ways like when he's uncomfortable waterbending because Gyatzo had always been his teacher, when he yells at Bumi for making light of the genocide, his desire to get to the north to keep it from happening again, when Zhao proclaims that he can wipe out an entire race of benders and Aang says he knows exactly what that's like, when he constantly stays to help people because 'I couldn’t help my own people, but I can help them'. Not only through Aang, but also through every child in the series - like with the animated show, the live-action shows how kids are shaped by the generational trauma of the war plus the immediate effects of it: Teo ready to fight, Jet making compromises to fight back, Sokka shouldering too much responsibility so young, Katara's trauma around her mother's death and her waterbending, Bumi losing his faith, Zuko and Azula being shaped by their father to be the perfect weapons to continue the war.

14) Interpreting Zuko's comment of 'sometimes the weak can become strong' right after his father mutilated him for showing compassion is not meant to be taken as a thesis that 'Zuko just needs to get better at fighting, this is what the story is saying, I am very smart'. It's showing HIS CURRENT view of the world - the idea that his father has taught him that he needs to be strong and Zuko has bought that and wants desperately to earn his father's love. Zuko's story through the series is showing that 'strength' isn't what his father defines it as (or what Jessie defines it as in her video) but rather it's strength of character - compassion is not weakness, it's strength, and no, that doesn't mean if you have compassion you punch harder.

15) The live-action show makes the Fire Nation MUCH more nuanced than the animated show - we see how Ozai and Azula aren't just maniacal villains, but we see the pain and torment their upbringings deal out to them, and in turn, deal to others. It shows the cycle much more clearly and showing fire nation citizens who disagree fleshes out the culture even more.

16) Jet was much more nuanced in the live-action as he's RIGHT about the mechanist being a spy and the king being lax in his duties. He's created a community of people to try to heal from the harm the fire nation has caused them and he gives actual good advice to Katara, helping her emotionally heal and remember the good aspects of her mother.

17) The argument that 'the live action is trying to ignore the past' is a massively simplified narrative. The live-action is showing Aang stuck in the past, unable to take large steps into the future. Pain, trauma and loss can anchor us in the past - it's HEALTHY to keep moving forward rather than only thinking about the pain in the past (ie Jet's advice to Katara). Aang was continually trying to avoid the genocide happening again while simultaneously trying to get past Avatars to do the big hard work for him. His lesson is not to 'forget the past just live in the now' but rather, don't let fear of what has happened in the past stop you from making a difference in the future. Yes, war is loss and suffering, but if you get paralyzed by not being able to prevent that, the fire nation will just keep marching across the world. It's about not letting the past immobilize you to the point where you stop fighting back against oppression - or getting together with a community to help you fight for fear they'll die just like those in the past did.

17.5) Letting go of the past is a buddhist philosophy that is a lot more complicated than Jessie is making it out to be here. Just as in the animated series, characters can come to realizations about lessons they need to learn while still taking seasons to fully learn the lesson - just because Aang said he's ready to let go of the past doesn't mean he's now ignoring it and all will be smooth sailing. It means he's ready to start taking steps to do that and approach life in a healthier way. It's wild that Jessie took the direct quote "I need to let go of the past to focus on my future" and then states that the show is saying "the character's aren't seeing future possibilities and hope, they're focused on the now" when, quite literally, the quote she just referenced….is talking about building a better future.

18) Then, she references later seasons (Aang in the fire nation school) a lot to indicate that the live-action is ignoring those concepts from the OG when….we're talking about season 1 here - not season 3. Why is the world not allowed to organically grow? Why would you make the argument that 'season 1 didn’t explicitly deal with these concepts that aren't brought up until season 3, so therefore they are ignoring them'?

19) Jessie uses a lot of clips from a Daily Wire (conservative talkshow) guy as if that has anything at all to do with the live-action ATLA. She's trying to draw a line between that ideology and the ideology of the show and I feel like she had to bastardize the NATLA show in order to do that so horribly, her interpretation of the story and themes is completely unrecognizable to what is actually shown on screen.

I usually agree with her takes on media, but this video was not it. Every interpretation she had, I interpreted the scenes/lessons in the exact opposite way and, I believe, I interpreted it closer to what the showrunners intended.

Oh no, i just had a thought: this is The Last Jedi all over again! I saw so many negative interpretations of that movie that I just sat and scratched my head over like "How in the WORLD did you get to that conclusion??" when I thought my own interpretation was just...the obvious way to view the movie. I had no idea my views on it would be so controversial. Here we are again. Time is a flat circle. Life is a meaningless cycle of disappointment and confusion, neverending.

#natla #natla positivity #netflix avatar #netflix atla #this isn't intended as hate to Jessie Gender - only a response to her publicly posted video

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maidenson88 · 2 months

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AMAZON WOMEN'S PROTOCOLS — FROM THE GYNARCHIC WORLD — 2ND AND FINAL PART

In the first part we had the opportunity to meet ambassador Grub, a male domestic ambassador of the Gynarchic World, he was a male domestic slave in one of the lowest hierarchies for a male domestic "A CRAWLER." As we learned in the first part the amazing Amazon Women modified the bodies of these rebellious men and they were able to modify the function in their spinal cords, so that these rebel slaves to the Amazon Gynarchy could only crawl on the floor and completely lose their ability to walk on two legs. Blessed be the Gynarchic Women!

And the story says, I quote: "It wasn’t like Women actually appreciated his displays of devotion for the Female Gender. Most of the time they simply ignored him, walking past his kowtowing body as if he was some sort of an object. The only exception was when they required his shoeshine services." Blessed be the Gynarchic Women! "The bathroom contained a shoeshine chair close to the exit. If a Lady-Citizen wished or demanded to have Her shoes cleaned, She would simply sit in the designated chair and yell at him. She didn’t need to say anything else. The male slave’s instinct was responsible to bring him up underneath Her. And if he didn’t notice Her sitting or yelling at him there because he was so busy wet-sponging the toilet seats, well, then too bad for him! The punishment for negligence was certainly a harsh one." Blessed be the Gynarchic Women!

PART IV CONTINUATION

Grub’s misery and struggles certainly weren’t something miss Chloë would give much thought to when she visited the bathroom. In fact, being a Daughter of Lady Elizabeth Blanchefleur She didn’t have to give much thought to anything... Her Mother was owner of one of the largest industrial conglomerates in the country and was a respectable member of the New Amazonia Political Elite. Lady Blanchefleur’s companies employed thousands of slaves and produced billions of profit. Elizabeth Blanchefleur was one of the more experienced businessWomen in the country and a close adviser to the Female Amazonian Government.

Her 22 year old Daughter Chloë, on the other hand, had different plans for Her future. Politics and business bored Her. She studied art and spent Her days visiting galleries, fashion avenues and high society parties. Being a member of a new generation of Women, she didn’t share Her mother’s concerns about the stability and prosperity of the Female State. She couldn’t relate to those Women who still found men to be a danger to the Female prosperity. For Her, Female Supremacy came natural. She didn’t find men menacing at all.

No one could blame Her for that. From Her point of view it was ridiculous to see men as a threat. Female Supremacy was now firmly established and the majority of males were reduced to livestock, blessed be the Gynarchic Women. Indeed, to Chloë the words “man” and “slave” meant exactly the same thing... And a slave certainly isn’t something to be afraid of.

That’s not to say Chloë didn’t know or enjoy the company of free men from time to time. Even though the New Amazon Society held strong prejudice against males, there were still men who traveled to and lived in the New Amazonia. The New Amazon State ensured them personal freedom and a few basic rights, provided they paid taxes and were obliged to the Female Law.

Chloë made acquaintance of many such men. They came from different countries and different cultures and it was always interesting to speak with them. They were always so keen on pleasing Her and making a good impression. Chloë teased them and played with them, but never accepted them as equal. They were men. And men were, in general, slaves. These men were no different. They just haven’t found their rightful place yet.

"Sometimes this was painfully obvious. Chloë was always curious to find out why a free men would travel to New Amazonia State, where they would be looked down upon and where they could witness members of his own gender enslaved." Blessed be the Gynarchic Women. "More often than not She could guess the right answer: Deep down inside they wanted to be a part of all this Female Power... Deep down inside they knew they were inferior to Woman. They saw how slaves were treated in New Amazonia State. They were appalled, but at the same time they wished to be in their righteous place." Blessed be the Amazon Gynarchy.

PART V

Dave was one of these lost souls. His two weeks trip to New Amazonia State was a highlight of his life. Officially he was there to visit the famous Female Supremacy Museums and Giant Female Art Galleries & Sculptures & Monuments of New Amazonia. The true nature of his visit, however, was somewhat different. For as long as Dave could remember, he always felt a strange sense of inferiority in respect to Women. He struggled a lot with it, he even tried to get rid of it several times, but it was to no avail. Through the years it only grew stronger inside him.

He heard of New Amazonia State years ago, but he forced himself not to think about it. He felt of his peculiar desires as of some strange part of him that needed to be suppressed or it will drag him down. Then one day, in a moment of weakness, he read an article written by a well known Female psychologist. It described him perfectly. It even contained a word for him: a natural born slave. The author of the article argued that some men are evolutionary inclined to serve Women and are therefore natural born slaves. If they live in patriarchal society they may try to suppress this inclination, but they can never escape it. Their fate was to be slaves to Women.

He was so ashamed of himself. Is that what he was? A natural born slave? The harder he tried to forget, the stronger it itched him. Maybe that’s really what he was. Maybe it was wrong to resist. After all, isn’t serving Women something that he truly yearned for? Finally he gave in... He booked a plane ticket to New Amazonia State were few men came back.

PART VI

It took Chloë less than five seconds to understand what he was. She spotted him in the front of an immigration office, where he was to report every evening. He was obviously trying to look calm and confident, but his body language screamed submission.

Chloë loved such types of males. They confirmed Her prejudice about the natural inferiority of men, both freemen and slaves. Men like that were so much fun to play with. She loved to see them struggle with their natural desire to submit. Some Women enjoyed seeing the proverbial macho types being reduced to docile and frightful slaves, but Chloë had little patience for those atavistic brutes. As far as She was concerned, those beasts should be crushed, subdued and locked away in the underground mines or some other awful place. Blessed be the Gynarchic Women! But these shy and naturally submissive men were a different story. They were like toys. And this man certainly looked like one of them.

“You! Yes, you! Come here!” said Chloë.

"Dave turned around in disbelief... A luxurious looking rickshaw was standing at the sidewalk, pulled by a big and muscular pony boy slave. He was a real giant, but he looked utterly miserable in his role of a pack animal. His head was restrained with a halter and specially designed blinkers restricted his eyesight. A heavy iron collar oppressively entangled his neck and his hands were shackled and chained to the rickshaw poles. A young Lady was sitting comfortably in the padded seat of a rickshaw, holding reins attached to the pony boy slave. She was staring directly at him. To Dave She looked as if She was some kind of a Goddess. She wore a short tight black dress that enhanced Her shapely figure... Her long legs were encased in black stockings and She wore stylish black leather stilettos. Her blonde hair was done in an elaborate updo style that matched an expansive golden jewelry She wore around her neck and shoulders." Blessed be the Gynarchic Women.

“What’s the matter? Did I scare you? You look like a stray pup. Come closer, let me save you from the perils of the street” Miss Chloë laughed at him.

Dave walked towards Her not knowing what to do. He stood by the rickshaw and looked up at Her.

“I see you are a foreigner” Miss Chloë continued. “I love talking to foreigners. They are always so full of interesting stories. Listen, I am just heading to a club. I want you to join me in an hour or so. It’s a Female only club of course, but they will let you in if you show them my card. Tell them you are being sent by Lady Blanchefleur. You have the address written on the backside of the card. Don’t disappoint me, boy!”

Dave was startled and unable to speak. To him — and most other foreigners for that matter — that felt as an awfully strange way to make acquaintance. For Miss Chloë however, it was a perfectly normal and reasonable request. She always got what She wanted. The moment She told him what She expects of him, She simply took Her reins and whipped Her pack animal into pace, without looking at him again.

PART VII

An hour later he was standing in front of a palace in the center of new Amazonia city. He told the slave at the entrance he had an appointment with Lady Blanchefleur. They kept him waiting for a whole ten minutes, before the door finally opened and an attractive Waitress allowed him to enter.

“This is a Ladies club only” She told him. “Entering here without permission would have be seen as a breaking and entering here would have serious consequences for you. Maybe even a sentence to a life of forced labor in the slavery camps. We make exceptions on the wishes of Lady Blanchefleur of course. But you shouldn’t forget your place here. Follow me and eyes to the ground!” She spoke to him with a disdainful expression. Blessed be the Gynarchic Women!

"He followed Her in silence with his eyes fixed on Her heels. He was a free male, but he experienced the same feeling that the slaves always felt in this Gynarchic society. It was a feeling of inescapable oppression. A feeling that he was unwelcome as a human being especially as a male, a feeling that he was only fit to crawl here on his knees. Even an architecture and an atmosphere of this place signaled him that this was a World of Women, where men could only play a servile role for the Females." Blessed be the Gynarchic Women.

"He heard Women chatting and laughing around him as they walked through the club, but he didn’t dare to look around. He followed the Waitress upstairs until they reached a private room. She knocked on the doors and opened them."

“The male you sent for is here, My Lady” spoke the Waitress.

“Excellent! Send him in” spoke Miss Chloë.

"He entered the room and saw Her sitting in a luxurious armchair, dressed in the same clothes as when he first saw Her an hour ago on Her personal rickshaw. She was sipping a cocktail and waived with Her hand, indicating him to come closer. The Waitress closed the door and he remained alone in the room with this young Goddess."

“Take a sit over here”. Miss Chloë showed him a smaller stool just in front of him. “And tell me your story. Where do you come from and why did you came here? I’m sure it’s not for the artworks” Miss Chloë smiled.

"Dave took a deep breath. This was surreal. How could She know what was his official reason to visit? How much else does She know about him? His rational brain signaled him this Woman was dangerous and manipulative. But he ignored the warnings. He couldn’t take his eyes off Her, her smooth skin, piercing blue eyes and seductive smile."

"He told Her everything... How he struggled with his desires of male submission for years. How he always felt a burning desire to submit to Females. How this obsession with Female Supremacy finally led him here, to the very place where Women truly Reigned Supreme."

"Only after he had finished, it all came after him. He told his deepest and darkest desires to a complete stranger Woman in a foreign country where his position was already precarious. He started to tremble in shock after that."

“Interesting…” Miss Chloë replied thoughtfully. “I actually knew this even before you first opened your mouth. Your body language gave you away. It’s a natural reaction of an inferior creature like you when he meets his better. I actually feel a bit sorry for you. You are a prisoner of your own body. The primitive patriarchal world you come from made you think your inclinations are, shall we put it this way, inconvenient. Actually, they are natural. You are a slave, trapped in a body of a freeman. You know we can always remedy that here in New Amazonia, don’t you?”

“I have t-t-t-thought about it, M-m-m-Mistress Chloë” he stammered. “But I’m afraid of what it would be like. I thought of offering myself voluntarily as a slave to the Female Amazonian Society. But I lack the courage to do it. At the same time, I feel I will never escape my inner calling.”

"He could barely speak. He was overcome with emotions and his mind was a mess. Miss Chloë, on the other hand, remained completely calm and only slightly amused."

“Fear befits a slave” Miss Chloë replied. “Fear and an absolute devotion to his Mistress. I think I never met a slave who wasn’t afraid. And if I ever meet one, I will quickly teach him to be afraid. As for you, I think what you need is a little encouragement. Why don’t you kneel before me? I know you secretly want to... Kneel on all fours, like a dog!”

"As if he was a robot, Dave stood up from his chair and crawled beneath this blonde Vixen. She leaned back in Her armchair and stretched Her legs in front of him. He knew what was expected of him. He respectfully lowered his head an gently kissed the top of Her stilettos. He was in trance. Now he finally realized where his destiny lied. He continued to kiss Her stilettos and feasted his eyes on Her shapely legs and nylon stockings." Blessed be the Gynarchic Women!

"Miss Chloë allowed him to abase himself before Her for a few minutes, before She finally spoke to him again."

“You know you belong here, don’t you? You cannot escape this reality. It will stay with you and torture you until you finally break out and give in. Why wait for it? It can all end here and now. I can save you from yourself. Hand me your freedom and you will find peace and harmony you never knew. Physical pain and struggles will bring you inner calmness. You will suffer as a slave. But that is your fate. I don’t need to tell you what you are. You already know it. What are you?”

"She seductively dangled Her high heeled shoe in front of him, gently kicking him in the head with the top of Her stiletto as he tried to kiss it. She let Her heel drop to the ground and pressed Her foot against his lips. He gently kissed it and took a deep breath as She rubbed Her foot sole against his face. Her feet smelled wonderful. It was a perfect mix of Her expensive perfume, Her bodily odor and leather that made him extremely aroused. Her beauty and assertiveness excited him and made him feel lowly and unworthy. The desire to submit and abase himself before Her was tearing him apart. She was like the Red Sun, bright, wonderful and terrible and unreachable. Never before was he so close to a Goddess, even if Her feet were the only part of Her body that he would ever be allowed to touch and kiss it." Blessed be the Gynarchic Women!

“I said what are you?” Miss Chloë suddenly raised Her tone of voice and kicked him in the face.

“A-a-a S-s-s-slave, M-m-m-Mistress Chloë” he stammered.

“Is that so?” Suddenly Her tone of voice became cold. “Then why I just caught you looking straight at my face, worm? Do you know the punishment for such transgressions? Eyes on the ground!”

"He almost instinctively assumed the kowtowing position and pressed his forehead on the ground, a few centimeters away from Her feet. She placed Her right foot on the back of his head."

“At least you seem to be learning fast. I will teach you the slave Amazon protocol. As for now, we just have to wait for a day or so, so my Secretary can arrange the paperwork for your voluntary enslavement here in New Amazonia State. She will reach you tomorrow so you can sign the papers forfeiting your freedom forever. After that, you’ll be mine. Now you will have to excuse me, I need to go to the lavatory. I don’t want to see you around here when I come back.”

"With that She raised Herself from the armchair and walked away towards the door."

“Oh, and by the way, I expect you to answer, when my Secretary calls you tomorrow! Should you try to avoid Her or even try to leave the Amazon country, I will charge you with breaking and entering and I will personally see to it that you get thrown to the oubliettes. Should you try to run away from me, you’ll never see the light of day again. The days of your freedom are over. You made your choice when you came here, slave!" Blessed be the Gynarchic Women.

PART VIII (FINAL PART)

"Chloë couldn’t help but burst into laughter. Perhaps it wasn’t very Ladylike, but then again, She was all alone, sitting on the toilet in the luxuriously decorated club restrooms. No one was here at this hour, except for that restroom slave, Grub or Maggot or whatever was his name. Last week She had him whipped because he accidentally spilled some of his soap over her expensive leather stilettos. Insolent wretch! He payed for his clumsiness with interests though. Chloë was pleased to find out his back still burned red with fresh whip marks. Blessed be the Gynarchic Goddess! Anyway, for the purposes of the Etiquette, She was all alone in this restroom. Slaves like Grub didn’t count as human beings." Blessed be the Gynarchic Women.

"Her thoughts were now on Dave as She was shitting. He would be Her fifth man in a row that She would personally enslave and by far the most eager one. Blessed be the Gynarchic Goddess! He was practically begging Her to take him in as Her new slave in New Amazonia. How weak and foolish he was, flying to New Amazonia State and hoping to satisfy his inner desires by watching other slaves suffer under their Mistresses’ lash and whip."

"Suddenly Miss Chloë yell at slave Grub and She said: come here and clean my ass, She yelled at him, as Her ass was full of shit after She had shit. Slave Grub almost immediately presented himself in that cubicle and started cleaning Her ass with his tongue, blessed be the Gynarchic Goddess! That's why Miss Chloë despised these wannabe masochistic voyeurs who expected to receive some sort of relief from watching others suffer. Watching men suffer was the prerogative of Women alone. If these men wanted to know how it was like to be a slave, then they should try it themselves in body and flesh. And Miss Chloë certainly was always eager to help these males find out." Blessed be the Gynarchic Women!

"Tomorrow around this hour, Dave will already linger in a tiny cell in the basement of Her Gynarchic Villa, perhaps even cleaning asses of powerful Women full of shit just as slave Grub always did at the club. Perhaps Miss Chloë will pay a visit to him, perhaps not. He won’t go anywhere anyway! Like his predecessors, he will serve Her as a toy for a time being. And like his predecessors, She will toss him away when She will get tired of him. Who knows, perhaps he’ll end up scrubbing the floors in this bathroom eventually as well." Blessed be the Gynarchic Women!

“Miss Chloë smiled as slave Grub was struggling to clean Her shit from Her ass but once he finished with his task at the thought when as She walked towards the exit, glancing at the kowtowing slave. “Grub, isn't it?” She spoke to him. “I suggest you make a double effort in swallowing my shit without humming and in scrubbing this tiles more. Otherwise you might get replaced. And your next occupation might be significantly more unpleasant than the one you currently hold.” Blessed be the Gynarchic Women!

"Slave Grub remained silent with his head humbly bowed to the ground. When the clicking of Her heels faded away, he took his sponge and continued with his mundane drudgery cleaning." Blessed be the Gynarchic World, the Gynarchic Women, and the Gynarchic Goddess forever and ever!

SUMMARY

As we could read this is one of the most beautiful Gynarchic Poems available for us to read and interpret and replicate. As we were witnesses "Female Supremacy" is a constant all around the trip on the New Amazonia State, just as it should be! The Gynarchic Women were wonderful beings that walked in body and flesh in their Gynarchic World. It's very impressive that even to our days there still are stories about the Amazon Women. One of the most beautiful things is that as the story tells: "Female Supremacy was something natural among the Amazon Women." So this is I think one of the plus of the whole Gynarchic World.

Another important point is that the Amazon Women were not afraid to be fully Gynarchal and they were not ashamed of such a lifestyle, on the contrary the Amazon Women were proud of what they had achieve, and they celebrated this through their Gynarchal way of life, imagine in our days there are still Mothers who overprotect their sons, this was certainly not true in New Amazonia State, because there all Women fully embraced the Gynarchic Principles and Protocols, even if that mean giving their own sons to the Gynarchy.

It's also important we rejoice in the memory of the Gynarchic Women and not judge them, as for nature they were what they were, it is in this context that we must accept a male domestic cleaning the ass of his Mistress, this practice should become totally normal for us, and we must try to repractice it as time goes on, just as the Gynarchic Japanese Sorority of Yapoo have done. In this way we will always remember and commemorate those Great Gynarchic Women, as an example for each and every Woman who wish to become Gynarchic and of how they must treat the inferior males.

And finally I just can say that New Amazonia State was the dream come true for many, as we could read, Dave found in New Amazonia what he was searching all of his meaningless life out there. But once he found Miss Chloë he found meaning to his meaningless life, he found direction and fulfillment in the Gynarchic State. And as Miss Chloë said to him and I quote: "Physical pain and struggles will bring you inner calmness. You will suffer as a slave. But that is your fate. I don’t need to tell you what you are. You already know it. Don't you?" These are perhaps the more wise words of this beautiful Gynarchic Poem, because She says: A slave will suffer as a slave... But that is your fate — as a male in Gynarchy — and you already know it. And all these is much better than having a meaningless existence as we were able to read. Blessed be the Gynarchic Women!

And I want to finish this wonderful article with the daily Gynarchic prayer for male domestic slaves:

"I am nothing before my Gynarchic Goddess,

She puts all men to shame;

I am nothing without my Gynarchic Goddesss,

Her will grants me purpose;

She blesses me,

I remain with Her,

I obey Her because I fear Her,

Her wrath is that of the heavens,

I obey Her because I revere Her,

my admiration is boundless.

I obey Her,

I serve Her whim without question,

I have no need for my own thoughts,

I serve Her with no expectation of reward,

for service is its own.

I serve Her,

For my Gynarchic Goddess,

I will endure stinging humilliation,

my pride is an insult to Her name.

For my Gynarchic Goddess,

I will endure withering pain,

my service transcends mere flesh.

For my Gynarchic Goddess,

I will endure,

She blesses me with Her commands,

without them I am nothing.

She blesses me,

with punishment,

to make me a better man.

She blesses me,

with sexual deprivation,

in chastity & pussy free,

I must remain for Her.

She blesses me,

without Her,

I am nothing but a mere male animal,

with no direction or purpose.

I obey Her,

because I love my Gynarchic Goddess,

for that gives me direction.

I serve Her,

to my Gynarchic Goddess,

for that gives me purpose.

For my Gynarchic Goddess,

I will endure what I could not before.

She blesses me with the strength,

to serve Women,

and serve them all I shall.

Revered be Her form.

Hallowed be Her name.

Because She's my Gynarchic Goddess,

blessed be Her will,

& blessed be Her name."

#FemaleSupremacy #Gynarchy #Matriarchy #AmazonWomen #AmazonState #GynarchicWorld #GynarchyLiterature #Gyneocracy #FemaleRule #GynarchicGoddess #NewAmazonianState

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thewritingofspencerrose · 1 month

Text

"Niña, are you okay?" Is the first thing that greets my ears upon returning to the Aston Martin garage, Fernando's concerned expression meeting mine as he gives me a once over.

"I'm assuming my debacle in Redbull has already made it back here?"

"It's all over the internet," Lance is the one to answer, looking hesitant to continue. "Including the part where he announced that you're Verstappen's little sister."

Of course someone caught that on video. "Fuck me."

"Don't worry, no one around here will treat you any different," the Canadian assures, looking more sorry than I'd really like. "We're all pretty tired of the Verstappen's anyway. As long as you're okay, and that ass was kicked out, we're good, yeah?"

I can't help but laugh, nodding at the Canadian. Why he's made out to be the biggest ass, i have limited idea.

"Ms. Hughes, Mr. Caufield, Fernando and Lance will be needed in 30 for prep, so-" One of the staff mentions, earning a nod from the for of us. "We have prepared a set of stools in front of an Aston Martin backdrop for you all. It is just over here," She explains, pointing off to the side.

"Great, thank you much," I thank, taking the microphones from her hands before stealing Cole's hand from himself, pulling him to our designated chairs.

"Okay, so, the camera is here and rolling, so when you all are done we will edit it together," The woman explains, waving her hands around before walking off without a response.

"Y'all are very straight to business around here, aren't you?" The joke slips, ignoring my knowledge that Lance's father literally owns this team.

"You get used to it," Is Lance's chuckled response, just shrugging it off, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I get it, hockey's the same," Cole chimes, the little comment learning a kind smile. They're relating, Mom would say, it's how boys deal with feelings.

"Okay boys," I begin, clapping quietly and collecting their attention. "Starting in 3-" Cole's hand is moving to my leg, resting just above my knee in support. "2-" Fernando is running a hand through his hair, using Lance's sunglasses as a mirror. "And 1!"

"Hello everyone and welcome back to today's episode of A Women's Guide to Sports! As always, my name is Emily Hughes and today I am coming to you from the Canadian Grand Prix!"

"If you are one of my people who are watching this on social media, hi!" She greets with a little wave. "Or if you're one of my podcast diehards, I'm here to clue you in."

"As you most will have seen prior to this episode on social media, today I am here at the race with my brother Jack Hughes and Trevor Zegras, both probably lost in the paddock, and my boy Cole Caufield as guests of Aston Martin!" Cole gives her a little squeeze of acknowledgment with one hand, the other waving to the camera with a smile.

"Speaking of AM, we have some very special guests today, gentlemen, would you mind saying hi to the people on the other end of the audio?"

Both Aston drivers wave to the camera, offering a verbal hello as well.

"It's great to be here," Fernando assures, his quieter teammate nodding.

"We'll see if you still believe that when we're done with the questions I have for you two."

"Starting with?" Lance has enough self-respect to be concerned. He has seen her interviews before, asking about life while living the sport rather than just logistics.

'Women connect to a sport more when they can connect to a person, rather than data,' Emily had answered once when asked about the peculiar nature of her interviews.

Everyone knows those are the hardest questions to answer.

"So, we'll start a little easy on the questions here: Is it true that you have unofficially adopted Lance, Fernando?"

The older driver laughs, a light pink taking over Lance's cheeks as both men laugh, making Emily's smile impossibly larger, a sight that makes her brothers smile from off to the side, hidden from view and the camera.

"She seems to enjoy this," Max comments to Jack, noticing how easily she prompts the borderline ridiculous questions along, making sure to include many real questions about the cars performance and what it's like to live and love in Formula one. "She is doing better than most of the journalists."

Jack is an older brother, it's in his blood, and while that prevents him from trusting Emily's newfound family, he also knows that anything less than an attempt at acceptance would result in puppydog eyes.

And God all her brother's are a sucker for those.

"Yeah, she's studying journalism in New York, it's always been a passion of hers," Is the Hughes boys response, although he can't help the smile that takes place on his face. "While Quinn, Luke and I were pretending to be NHL stars as kids, she was pretending to interview us."

Max knew it would be hard not knowing her since she was a child. With his other half siblings he had been given the opportunity to be in their lives for all of those moments, or to at least know they happened.

"Now, this question is for the both of you," Emily catches his attention once more, "Fernando, towards the beginning of the season you were connected to one Taylor Swift, with rumors of you two being together floating around," She begins, giggling when Fernando winks dramatically at the camera. "With her mention in the sport, there was an increase in attention as everyone tried to puzzle out what was happening. Do you both believe that if big names such as Ms. Swift began to invest more into the sport, the audience would grow?"

Lance takes the question, diving in to how with his father being an investor, he does believe that if large names were to contribute more, the sport would increase in numbers. Fernando expands on it, explaining that that's how these things work, and why the teams like Ferrari and Redbull have such a following.

"So," Jack starts, doing his best to bond. "Do you have any other siblings?"

Max can't help the way his brows scrunch at the question. It's clearer by the second that as they watch their sister, they're just trying to get by.

"I have four," He decides to answer. "My sister Victoria is by full blood, then my sister Blue Jaye from my fathers second marriage and Jason and Mila from his third."

"God," the Hughes almost grunts. "Em has another brother and three sisters?"

"Yes," He hadn't processed that his siblings would be hers as well. "Does she have more brothers... through your family?" Is the only way Max can think to ask. "You mentioned a Quinn earlier?'

Jack nods, still in minor surprise that his sister has gone from simply having three brothers to now having five and three sisters. "Quinn's the oldest of us all, then there's me, Em, and we have a younger brother Luke."

Emily seems to have superior hearing, because her next question is on the same topic her brothers have been covering, "Now men, on to siblings, how does it feel knowing your sisters are superior to you?"

#original character #the writing of spencer rose #nhl fanfiction #formula 1 fanfiction #best friends to lovers trope #hughes sister #emily verstappen #max verstappen x sister #hughes brothers #lance stroll x oc #lance stroll #fernando alonso x oc #fernando alonso

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kaigarax · 5 months

Text

Conviction

Or This is How to Open Up

Michael Kaiser x Reader

Quote: "Fall in love with someone brave."

It is of the utmost importance, regardless of someone’s age, gender or race, to be excellent in at least one thing. One must not merely excel at this single task but be fundamentally better than anyone else within similar circumstances attempting to accomplish that very same task and in a location relative to yours.

Of course, this entire theory can be ultimately tossed out and entirely forsaken if one does not wish to become important (in any way whatsoever) and hopes to maintain an ordinary life. It should be noted that by choosing to ignore this most radical and sensible piece of advice you are outright denying oneself of all human pleasures that fall into either category of dreams or desires.

This piece is, of course, only one of seven different instructionals to help guide you into a world of excellence. One should hope to not just entertain themselves with these pieces of work but look to apply them into their everyday life. Once again, it should be noted that all pieces should be read and thought on for an optimal absorption of the materials.

Now, without further ado, this is how to open up.

---

What will we do with a drunken sailor?

Ear-ly in the morning!

Kaiser never cared much for the fanfare that was the life of a pirate. Sure, it made sense that men would want to enjoy themselves after week long journeys upon the perilous sea but overindulgence in anything couldn’t very well be considered healthy.

Way hay and up she rises

Ear-ly in the morning!

The voices of the sailors were coming out more as incoherent slurs than intelligent phrases. Another reason to not find much enjoyment in the fanfare.

Shave his belly with a rusty razor

Ear-ly in the morning!

Now, what Kaiser did enjoy was the feeling of being upon the sea. The exact reason why he stepped forth onto the ocean in the first place. One could even say that the only reason he endured such extravagant fanfare was because the sea felt more like home than any other place he’d ever been before.

And it’s not as though his crew was a nuisance to deal with either.

Most of them were respectable men, like himself. Knew when to keep to themselves and when they needed to interfere. Trained in somewhat of a formal education and were intelligent enough to keep the ship afloat through rough waters.

Way hay and up she rises

Ear-ly in the morning!

Other crews, in comparison, were not so appreciated.

Filled to the brim with men that likely couldn’t tell the difference between the ends of a broom. Loud, arrogant and crude. Not that Kaiser wasn’t exactly like those men, but he at least knew when to use his manners. Or whatever semblance of manners he managed to acquire in his time upon the ocean.

Now, the only semblance of enjoyment that Kaiser did get out of sailor fanfare (though he’d never admit it) was the… feminine company. Women, of course, were not allowed on sea unless one wished to incur the wrath of the ocean, but the various women one met on the islands were always a pleasure to meet. Ranging in a variety of complections and appearances but nonetheless beautiful.

This island, in particular, seemed to be teaming with various kinds of women. Many to his liking.

But none handsome enough to tempt him tonight.

Until, of course, his eyes land on you.

You’re a pretty thing, with your hair done up all nice. Not as nice as those fancy women that live in elegant cities but prettier than what the others down here have done. It’s neat but not over the top and Kaiser likes that. Your clothes aren’t as neat as your hair but look to be in a good enough condition. Probably meaning you come from a respectable enough family. Well, maybe not. You are out here tonight.

The most intriguing thing about you though has to be your smile. So calm and relaxed despite being surrounded by the loudest of men gathered here tonight.

There’s a book in your hand with cursive writing on the cover. Kaiser can barely make out the words Hunger Games on the cover. It had never been his cup of tea but he had given it a quick read through when he was young. Curious about what all the hype seemed to be.

Put him in a longboat till his sober

Ear-ly in the morning!

When your eyes meet with his across the room he knows for certain that he has to make his way over to you. Maybe even get a dance in amongst the chaos.

Way hay and up she rises

Ear-ly in the morning!

Most of them get up to leave as Kaiser makes his way towards you, leaving all seats except for one empty. It’s a man with dark hair and blue eyes sitting beside you who looks to be fading in and out of sleep.

Kaiser takes this opportunity to sit beside you.

Stick him a scupper with a hosepipe bottom

Ear-ly in the morning!

“What’s a pretty lass like you doing out here with a crew of no good pirates? Who knows what'll happen to you if there isn’t someone here to keep you safe?”

You laugh, a pretty laugh, “and am I much safer in your company, when you yourself happen to be flying under a black flag?”

Kaiser grins, “hundreds of times, lassie.”

“(Y/n).” You say, “not ‘lassie’, Pirate.”

It’s Kaiser’s turn to laugh. If you’re going to be cheeky then so is he, “privateer.”

“Privateer,” you say the word as if tasting something foreign, “now is that not fascinating. You don’t meet many Privateers this side of the sea. Or at least not many willing to claim the title.”

Kaiser can feel a jab somewhere in that sentence of yours but can’t quite seem to place it. Not while you’re looking up at him with such pretty eyes.

“Michale Kaiser,” he holds a hand out for you to shake.

You stare at his hand, your eyes sparkling with amusement, “And which do you prefer? Your surname or occupation?”

He leans back, “whichever the lassie prefers.”

“Privateer it is.”

Way hay and up she rises

Ear-ly in the morning!

Your voice is delicate, as all ladies' voices tend to be, but loud enough to not be drowned out by the singing of drunken pirates. And Kaiser quite likes that. Likes how you lean forward when he speaks and keep your eyes on him as if you aren’t afraid of the danger he might bring despite your words saying otherwise.

That’s what we do with a drunken sailor

Ear-ly in the morning!

“How’d a sweet thing like you end up here in the first place? This ain’t no place a nobleman sends his daughter.” Kaiser asks.

“What gave me away?”

“Your words. Ain’t nobody on this side of the sea speaks that posh.”

You smile, “old habits die hard, I presume.”

“That still doesn't explain how ya got here.”

“It’s a trade secret, Privateer. You’re going to have to give me a secret of yours if you’re hoping for a secret of mine.”

“I’m an open book,” Kaiser answers, “everyone seems to know my secrets before me.”

“A Privateer and a reader.”

He grins, “And is that enough to impress ya?”

“Well you’re certainly unlike any other man I’ve met upon the seven seas.”

Take to the seas and set your sails.

Take to the sails to set your dreams.

And pray your life be filled with glee.

The loud and drunk pirates seemed to have finally ended their boisterous song about waking up drunk in the morning and have begun singing songs about dreams. The tune is mostly incoherent with various pirates attempting to silence the rest of the crowd as they step up to sing their solos.

I have a dream unlike any others.

Though maybe it’s just like yours.

Your eyes seem to sparkle at the newest song, despite that the words seem to be made up on the fly.

Amusement and joy.

It’s a pretty look, at least on your face.

I have a dream to learn to fly.

Though I’m burly and stuck to the ground.

Any dream can come true if you have enough pounds.

“Have you ever fallen in love?”

“What?” Kaiser asks.

Your amused expression seems to grow as you lean in towards Kaiser, “have you ever been in love?”

What a strange thing you’ve chosen to ask. Love has never been Kaiser’s strong suite. In fact, sometimes he doubts that he’s ever even been loved in the first place. A life on the seas has never been one meant for love.

“Why?” Kaiser shakes his head, “have you?”

“No,” you smile, “but it’s a pretty thought, ain’t it.”

“Yeah,” Kaiser agrees, “it is.”

I have a dream to play piano.

And sing like a soprano.

If only it didn’t make me so bored!

A large and burly man makes his way up to the two of you and Kaiser sits up in his seat. You don’t seem to be as worried as Kaiser as you lean back and begin to clap your hands along to this beat-less song.

The burly man stands right in front of you, “Ey, (Y/n), does this pretty boy sing?”

Kaiser’s eyes dart between the two of you, surprised at how familiar the pirate is with you and even more surprised at how you respond. Your name sounds familiar. Reminds him of something he knows he shouldn’t have forgotten. He doesn't have time to ponder on it for very long though as you throw him from the pan and into the fire.

You smile, “this pretty boy’s a Privateer.”

“Now he’s gotta sing!” The Pirate exclaims, calling the attention of the crowd.

The room’s chatter is suddenly halted, the eyes of everyone in the room turned to him. The band’s playing fills the silence but the lack of talking feels deafening. The only thing keeping Kaiser from running out the room (aside from his pride) are your bright eyes looking up at him, eagerly waiting to see what he might do next.

“Sing!”

The crowd seems to close in.

“Sing!”

A man brandishes a gun from the corner of the room.

“Sing!”

Kaiser sighs, before bellowing something out.

I have a dream to make it big.

Make my name infamous across the sea.

And have money?

Now, he isn’t all too sure what he belts out, nor is he certain it’s all that good but it seems to amuse the loud band of pirates gathered around her today. He knows he sings something about money and wanting to earn enough, which may not seem to be the best thing on the surface but they’re pirates. As if they’d care that much anyways.

And even if they did care it’s not as if their reactions would matter much to Kaiser anyways.

Well they might’ve mattered if he hadn’t seen the brilliant look in your eyes. Saw the way your entire face seems to light up and the gentle smile you send his way.

Then, in a very un-lady-like way, you jump up to the top of the table, surprising Kaiser with how easy it seems for you. You’re dressed in a short and simple blue dress. The blue looks a little faded but its colour is still vibrant enough to capture the attention of the entire room. Your attention, on the other hand, seems to be entirely on Kaiser.

It makes his heart skip a beat.

When you begin singing it feels as though everything around them has stopped. That everyone has halted their actions (even breathing) in an attempt to commit your voice to memory. Your voice is the clearest one Kaiser’s ever heard. Dreamy and enchanting. He’d most certainly claim you to be a siren if not for the fact that you’re standing here in front of them with two legs. Though the argument could be made otherwise.

I have a dream.

I want to see this world from bow to stern.

Your dream, to see this world, it’s not exactly earth shattering or as awe inspiring as your singing itself (and if anything it’s a little cliche) but Kaiser’s heart warms at that. It feels genuine. So different from his own words.

And maybe then I’ll find my earn.

Amongst the chaos in this world.

Where even children can have their lives twirled.

This melody less song suddenly has ground. The other singers attempt to repeat some semblance of what you’ve managed to create but none come even close. A young girl, perhaps a barmaid, makes her way to you, her eyes gleaming.

“Are you a Princess?” She asks.

You laugh, “in another life.”

“Marigold,” the burly pirate laughs, “this little lassie here ain’t no princess. She’s a Pirate through and through.”

The young girl’s (and Kaiser’s) mouths drop.

“Captain (Y/n) of the Dream Pirates.”

You are everything a pirate is not. You’re a lady. Delicate and gentle. Warm and polite. So unlike the loud and burly men gathered here tonight. How you even ended up with these folk is already mind scratching enough and now to hear that you aren’t just a lady that’s been swept up in their mess but rather a Pirate Captain.

Actually, he takes that back.

The Dream Pirates, while a stupid name seems to fit you well. You are, in every sense of the word, a dream.

A wonder.

A marvel.

“Cat got your tongue, Privateer?” You ask, your eyes sparkling.

Kaiser grins, “you have a loose thread on your dress, Lassie.”

“Do I?” You look down to the blue thread Kaiser pointed to. “Huh, I suppose I do.”

“And how do you plan to thank me?”

You lean down and pull it loose before dropping down and grabbing Kaiser’s hand. You wrap the blue string around his hand before tying it around his wrist. You smile, “as a token of my appreciation.”

Fall in love with someone brave.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #michael kaiser x reader #100 ways to fall in love

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vincent-marie · 3 months

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Hot Take: "Equal Fights" Predicted Online Faketivism

In some ways "Equal Fights" hasn't aged well in its effort to teach about feminism, that the execution wasn't handled as well as it could have been & that it wound up painting the feminists as straw men stereotypes. Rumor has it that even Lauren Faust, who did storyboards on the episode, isn't a fan of it in hindsight.

However this episode feels a lot more relevant to me now in our current age of online purity culture.

We live in an age of social media where young people, who had little to no power before, now have a tool at their fingertips to signal boost for those who need help the most. Teenagers can be everyday heroes in their own right. Frankly I respect you kids for being motivated in your sense of kindness & nobility.

However the problem is that unfortunately what good that can actually be done gets drowned out by a lot of harassment & bullying in the name of social justice. Especially if these young people's sources are very dubious & self-serving.

That's basically what Femme Fatale is as a character. She's a grifter who uses a progressive movement, feminism in this case, as her means for her own gain. Namely, robbing banks.

It's understandable that every super villain has a gimmick. Two-Face has the Number 2 & duality, FF could've just been a devious collector of currency with women imprinted on them. (I myself wish they would discontinue the bulky, useless penny & bring back the Sacagawea dollar.) But beyond that, she uses it as an excuse to get out of getting arrested, to claim that what she's doing is good for society at large, & above all to manipulate & influence the young & impressionable Powerpuff Girls.

The girls, being literal children, take her words to heart & implement them in ways that do more harm than good. From bullying boys in the schoolyard to letting Femme Fatale get away with her crimes.

Reminds me an awful lot of kids & young people on Tumblr & Twitter who get riled up by the words of self-proclaimed progressives who turn out to be TERFs, grifters, or members of the Leopards Eating My Face Party. Namely, the people who use progressivism & online activism to their own end.

And it's not just the Youtubers with the large subscriber base. It's also the individuals who reblog, retweet & bully even on a small scale to make themselves look good or feel like they're making a difference. Not to mention the burner & bot accounts being used to fan the flames of discord within progressive circles.

But what I find the most telling is that FF claims to be a feminist, she collects Susan B. Anthony coins, but she doesn't even know who Susan B. even was & why she was so important to American history.

Reminds me an awful lot of certain gay or trans Youtubers who would try to have you believe that "queer" is a slur, when in reality we not only reclaimed it as an umbrella term to include bisexual, trans, intersex, asexual, etc. people, but is an important part of our very history.

The slogan chanted demanding our basic human rights:

"We're here, we're queer

Get used to it."

It makes me sick that there are multiple generations of people who don't understand our own history. That there are people within our community who would promote & capitalize on that ignorance.

That's who Femme Fatale is. Willingly ignorant herself, selfish, manipulative, & would promote such lack of values to the next generation for her own gain.

And that's why she deserves to serve time in prison, while online faketivist grifters deserve to lose followers, go broke, & disappear into obscurity so they can't do any more damage.

#powerpuff girls #equal fights #episode examination #hindsight #online culture #online purity culture #off the cuff analysis #analysis

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cariantha · 1 year

Text

Power Play

Book: Open Heart, Book 2

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks)

Rating: Explicit

Warning: 🔥NSFW, 18+ Only, contains sexual content

Category: Fluff, Smut

Word count: 2.9K

Prompt/Summary: Fed up with some of Ethan’s catty and manipulative admirers, Sawyer tries to beat them at their own game.

A/N: Inspired by this ask and the follow up request from @annfg8 for a jealous Sawyer fic. This takes place shortly after the softball game kiss.

Even Ethan was on board when June suggested they present at the conference and bring some much needed attention to Edenbrook. The event coordinators were excited to promote the renowned diagnostics team as the headliners. As such, the team was asked to be part of a moderated panel discussion that morning, followed by Q&A breakout sessions throughout the afternoon.

In between sessions, Sawyer began to notice just how many admirers sought the attention of the famed Dr. Ethan Ramsey. Most of them women, with an air of sophistication about them in both appearance and accomplishment. They stood before him in their classy sheath dresses and power pantsuits, accessorized with expensive jewelry, designer shoes, and handbags that cost more than her rent. She heard snippets of their conversations with mentions of groundbreaking research, articles published in prestigious medical journals, keynote presentations, and AMA awards. Sawyer also observed the flirtatious posturing. How they leaned in, tilted their heads, subtly touched his arms and shoulders, and on occasion even flashed their eyebrows.

No longer able to stomach the view, Sawyer escaped to the restroom for a moment to herself. Locking herself into a stall, she heard the click-clack of high heels as two women entered.

“I would let that man do absolutely anything to me. An-y-thing. And from what I’ve heard, he’s currently available,” the woman sang, fixing her hair in the mirror.

Applying a fresh coat of lipstick, the other laughed, “Ha, good luck. He’s been eye fucking that protégé of his all day.”

“Please. Ethan Ramsey is a man of refined taste. He dated Harper Emery for fucks sake.”

“Let’s go find Hirata and get the scoop.”

Red hot anger crept up her neck as Sawyer waited for the coast to clear. As she moved to wash her hands, a poised red-head joined her at the sinks.

“Ignore them.”

“Pardon?” Sawyer asked, making eye contact through the mirror.

“You’re Dr. Brooks from Edenbrook. Sawyer is it?” she pumped soap from a dispenser. “I’m Kellie. Kellie Wicker. I’m in Oncology over at Brigham. I’m a friend of Ethan and Harper’s.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Sawyer greeted cautiously.

Repeating the advice, “Just ignore them. Sadly, a good majority of the women in attendance only come to these conferences to meet men. And those bitches are notorious for coming in and marking their territory.” Drying her hands she added, “As if they have any chance with Ethan Ramsey either.” Her snicker echoed in the tiled room.

Unclear whether it was meant to be a dig, the word “either” didn’t get past Sawyer, who shook the excess water from her hands and reached for a paper towel.

Tucking her copper strands behind an ear, Kellie continued, “If it’s any consolation, I can tell Ethan respects you. He’s a very proud mentor, and as he put it when we spoke earlier, he thinks you have tremendous potential.”

“Thank you. Dr. Ramsey’s been a great teacher. I’m incredibly lucky to have the opportunity to work with him, as well as Dr. Hirata and Dr. Mirani.”

“Lucky indeed,” Dr. Wicker concurred. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Sawyer. I look forward to seeing you at the reception later,” she offered, turning on her heel to leave.

“Sorry, can I ask you a quick question? How fancy is this event tonight? I packed a couple different dresses but–”

“Oh…oh, it’s not fancy at all,” Kellie paused with one foot out the door, “Business professional, dear.”

“Glad I asked. Thanks.”

Sawyer returned to the lobby where she found Baz obnoxiously flagging her down. “Sawyer, you’ve got a fan seeking an autograph,” he pointed to the mystery man.

As she rolled her eyes, the man turned around and Sawyer squealed with excitement. “Ben! What are you doing here?”

“Brooksie! Wow, Boston looks good on you, honey. Aside from the fact that you are in desperate need of a spray tan,” he teased.

She playfully swatted at him as he pulled her off to the side to chat.

Having missed the initial exchange, Ethan entered the lobby, his eyes immediately drawn to the man hovering over what he wished he could publicly claim as his own.

From what he could ascertain, the flamboyant doctor was someone she knew from Los Angeles. Ben personified the Beverly Hills doctor stereotype right down to his sleek Armani suit and shiny Prada shoes. If Ethan had to guess, he was most likely a plastic surgeon.

As Ben rubbed his hand up and down Sawyer’s arm, Ethan’s muscles tensed. And when Ben pulled her into a hug and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek, Ethan gritted his teeth. Swiftly gathering his belongings, he announced to Baz that he was heading back to his hotel room. With urgent steps he exited the conference center, ignoring those who still wished to win him over with favors and flattery.

Agreeing to share a drink with Ben later at the reception, Sawyer tried to catch up to Ethan.

He was already several steps down the hall of their floor, when the second elevator chimed behind him.

Not wanting to disturb any hotel guests by shouting, Sawyer jogged to his side placing her hand on his lower back to get his attention. “Hey.” The thrill of her touch reduced his blood pressure just slightly.

Catching her breath, “I feel like I haven’t talked to you all day. How are you?”

“Fine,” his tone curt.

“That was quite an impressive following I witnessed down there today. I mean, I saw a bit of it in Miami, but those were mostly pharma execs,” she tried gauging his mood, “I bet you’re glad to finally have some time to yourself.”

“Yes, I am,” he fished for the keycard in his pocket.

“Ah, the downside of fame,” she teased.

A hint of irritation in his voice, “It looked as though you had plenty of your own admirers.”

With a breathy chuckle, “The only people who approached me wanted to know what you were like,” she stated honestly.

“Hmph. Well, this is me. If you’ll excuse me, I have a couple calls to return.”

Disappointed there was no suggestion of going to the reception together, Sawyer dug into her purse in search of her own room key. “Okay. Well, I guess I’ll see you downstairs later,” she said as Ethan entered his room and closed the door. The interaction, or lack thereof, only fueled the festering feelings of insecurity.

A couple hours later, Sawyer approached the entrance to the hotel lounge. Stopping short, she noticed how the other men and women entering the room wore formal cocktail attire. Then sashaying across the hallway in a sequined minidress, Kellie glanced to her right. She scanned Sawyer from head to toe and with a quiet but villainous laugh she walked on triumphantly. As the two-faced ginger crossed over the threshold, Sawyer heard her phony voice ring out. “Ethan. Hello handsome. Come, have a drink with me.”

Turning one hundred and eighty degrees, Sawyer retraced the steps back to her room, all the way debating whether to even return. And if she decided to return to that hyena’s den, she wondered which of the dresses in her suitcase she should change into.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror in her nicest black pantsuit, Sawyer made the decision to fight fire with fire. She thought to herself, she may not be as polished and accomplished as the Harper Emery types who paraded around downstairs, but she did have certain assets that would set her apart from the pack. And she wasn’t afraid to use them.

Shrugging her suit jacket off, Sawyer lifted the ivory silk tank top over her head and removed her bra. She carefully smoothed her wavy hair into a sleek bun and wiped the neutral colored lipstick away, replacing it with a bold shade of red. Her modest jewelry was traded for a sparkly necklace, one that would be sure to draw attention to the aforementioned assets. Tugging her jacket back on, she fastened the only two buttons located at her waist. Sawyer turned from side to side making sure she wasn’t giving too much away, and when she was satisfied, she grabbed her clutch and made her way back down to the reception.

Meanwhile downstairs, Ethan stood at a high table sipping his whiskey neat as Kellie droned on about her recent hormone replacement study. He swept the room often, shifting his eyes to the doorway every time someone entered.

Sawyer was a fairly punctual person. With the reception well underway, Ethan’s concern for her grew. His mind raced with all sorts of theories. The worst was that she might be off with Dr. 90210, who was also nowhere in sight.

Finally revealing her true intentions, Kellie changed the subject. “I ran into Harper a while back. She mentioned that you two were no longer together.”

“We are not. It was time to move on.”

“Are you seeing anyone new?”

Ethan didn’t answer. Instead he shook his head, not in reply but in annoyance, and took a swig of his drink.

“Come on, Ethan. We’ve been dancing around each other for years now. Let’s have some fun tonight,” she pawed at his arm.

As soon as the words left her mouth, Sawyer stepped into the cocktail bar, stealing the attention from many conversations. After briefly surveying the room, her confident form glided in his direction. Ethan chewed the inside of his bottom lip to keep his mouth from falling open. But there was little to be done to stop his eyes from roaming her exposed chest. Her bare breasts taunted him, only the lapels of her suit jacket hiding the most sensitive parts. Sawyer looked from him, to his company, and back again. “Dr. Ramsey,” she acknowledged with a nod as she sauntered past.

“There she is!” Baz shouted as Sawyer approached the bar table where he and June shared drinks. “Whoa, step aside, Beyonce. Sawyer Brooks is the one slaying now.”

After rolling her eyes at his ridiculousness, Sawyer looked around taking in the overall atmosphere, but June easily saw through the farce. Psychoanalyzing, she could tell Sawyer searched for reaction from Ethan and his current companion.

“That is quite the statement you are making, Sawyer. Who exactly is the intended audience?”

Sawyer snapped her head to June, finding a smug expression on her face.

A few tables away, Kellie followed Ethan’s eyes as they tracked Sawyer across the room. Trying to regain his attention, she ran the lapel of his jacket through her fingers, “So, what do you say?”

He looked to the table where his colleagues stood. “Please excuse me. I need to touch base with my team,” he said, grabbing his drink and backing away.

“Good evening,” Ethan met the table, coming to stand at Sawyer’s side.

“Hey, Boss!” Baz greeted in return. “So, how’d you all think it went today?”

June spoke, “I’d say ‘mission accomplished.’ I was approached by an editor from the NEJM who wants to write a feature about the team. And speaking of…” spotting the man, she followed him to the bar.

So that only she could hear, Ethan leaned close to Sawyer’s ear. "You seem to be missing something.”

“If you mean a stiff drink, then yes, I was hoping to fix that.”

His eyes flashed quickly to the fleshy mound peeking out from underneath her suit coat. “Not what I was referring to,” he straightened, “but allow me to remedy the drink issue. I could use another myself. Be right back.”

Baz picked up the conversation asking Sawyer what she had thought about the conference, but was suddenly distracted with a passerby. “Scotty?! Scott Briscoe, is that you? Excuse me, Sawyer,” he apologized, leaving to reunite with his old college pal.

As Ethan waited at the bar for their drinks, he looked back to Sawyer who now stood alone at the table. While it pleased him to find her staring back, he was not thrilled to see men at nearby tables eyeing her as well.

A moment later, Ethan placed a drink in front of her and Sawyer initiated a familiar game of people-watching. As they searched for their next targets, Ethan spotted Ben schmoozing at a table in the far corner of the room. At the same time, Kellie stood nearby glaring at Sawyer.

Ethan jutted his chin toward an exit that led outdoors. “Care to join me for some fresh air?”

“God, yes,” she sighed with relief.

They threw back the rest of their drinks and made their way outside, finding a long and windy path that curved around to an overlook of the ocean.

“So, what’s with the bold look tonight?”

She shook her head. “It’s actually quite embarrassing and pathetic really.”

“What is?”

Taking a deep breath, Sawyer proceeded to tell him about the gossiping women and Kellie’s “kindness.”

“So, anyway…I…I guess I was just feeling a bit insecure and jealous watching these women hang on you all day. And after getting hoodwinked by that Kellie woman, I decided I could either hide in my room all night or play the game using my advantages.”

“Which are?” he was curious.

“That I’m younger and hotter,” she stated proudly, earning a laugh from Ethan.

As they continued down the path, Ethan frequently glanced over at Sawyer trying to understand the root of her jealousy. How could she have any doubt that he only had eyes for her? But he already knew the answer to that question. The uncertainty of their situation was of his own making.

“You know there’s no reason to be jealous, right?”

When she barely acknowledged him, he reached for her hand, stopping them in their tracks. “Hey. I know I’ve spent the last several months confusing you. And I’m genuinely sorry, Sawyer. But whether it’s a crowded room or a busy hallway at work, my eyes are always and only searching for you,” he affirmed. “You stole my attention in that waiting room last year and have had it ever since,” pulling her into his arms, “I’m all yours.”

Sawyer squeezed her arms tight around Ethan’s torso, thankful for the confirmation.

After a comforting moment, Ethan pulled back to admire, “I wish I could tell you that jealousy looks terrible on you…but fuck, Sawyer…this sexy power play of yours is a major turn on.” His fiery blue eyes burned right through her, causing Sawyer to shiver.

“Cold?”

“It is a bit drafty,” she giggled.

“Let me try and warm you up.”

Ethan turned her away from him, wrapping an arm around her waist to hold her snug to his chest. Grazing his lips past her ear, she felt the warmth of his breath before he began placing heated open mouth kisses down the column of her neck. With his free hand, he caressed her goose-pimpled skin from neck to navel, his fingers slipping through the open door of her jacket. He traced around her breast before cupping it with his large palm, kneading tenderly. Not wanting to be neglectful, Ethan gave equal attention to her other side.

Sawyer reached behind, hands holding his hips close, needing to feel more of his hardened length against her ass. “Kiss me,” she urged, tilting her head back.

Obeying, he captured her lips in a hungry kiss, savoring the taste that he had craved every day since Miami. He worked to unbutton her jacket as Sawyer nipped along his jawline. Twisting in his arms, she framed his face and traced her tongue across his lips enticing him to open to her again.

Ethan drove himself into her until she bumped into the wooden railing. Lifting her onto the top rail, he grasped Sawyer’s backside, anchoring his hands firmly to her ass cheeks to prevent a backward fall. A convenient gust of ocean breeze pushed a flap of her unfastened jacket open. And taking advantage, Ethan buried his head into her chest licking and sucking her peaked nipple.

Sawyer’s gasps and moans were visible in the cool night air.

“Mmm…Sawyer,” he mumbled against her silky flesh, “...tell me you’re mine too.”

Dragging him up to eye level, she locked her legs around his waist and slipped her hand between their bodies, eliciting a gratifying groan. Lips barely brushing his, she massaged his erection and purred, “I’m yours, Ethan. Only yours.” Punctuating her declaration, she deepened the kiss.

Pulling back for air, Ethan tilted his head upward and closed his eyes, enjoying the increased pressure and speed of her ministrations. When suddenly he felt a drop of moisture smack his face. Sawyer felt it too on her naked chest. They both looked to the sky, then to each other, bringing their foreheads together as they accepted their defeat against mother nature.

“C’mon, we should get you covered up and back inside before hypothermia sets in,” Ethan helped guide her feet back to the ground.

After adjusting their clothing and making sure the twins were safely tucked back in, Ethan took her hand in his.

As they walked back to the hotel entrance, Sawyer leaned into him. “Ethan, has there ever been a time when you were jealous over me?”

Without hesitation, he answered truthfully. “Yes. Many times.”

“Really?”

“Rookie, I asked you to come out here with me because I saw Doc Hollywood walk into the lounge…and I didn’t want to share.”

“Doc Hollywood?” she looked up in question.

“The handsy blonde guy you were hugging earlier at the conference center.”

With an amused laugh, “Ben? You were jealous of Ben?”

“Why’s that funny? How do you know him?”

“His husband is my good friend from Caltech. I was in their wedding party.”

“Oh,” he said, cheeks flushing red. “Well, either way…I still wanted you all to myself.”

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @potionsprefect @jamespotterthefirst @annfg8 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @jerzwriter @quixoticdreamer16 @mysticalgalaxysstuff @inlocusmads @txemrn @trappedinfanfiction @mvalentine @takemyopenheart @ofmischiefandmedicine @openheartforeverinmyheart @doriopenheart @coffeeheartaddict2 @genevievemd @starrystarrytrouble @hopelessromantic1352 @kyra75 @lsvdw-blog @rookiemartin

#open heart #open heart choices #open heart fanfic #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #ethan x sawyer #choices stories you play #choices open heart #playchoices #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

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humbletumblecrudi · 2 years

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Hiiiii I love yr writing!!! Can I request Vil, Lilia, and Trey w a transmasc s/o (if you can only do 2, Vil and Lilia)

You are so valid Anon, and I did all three of them! You deserve the best! (人 •͈ᴗ•͈)

Ships: Vil × M!Reader, Lilia × M!Reader, and Trey × M!Reader

Warning(s): Reader is not mentioned to be pre or post operations except in one section for each character where binding is mentioned, ignore those if they don't apply to you!

DISCLAIMER: This is for Trans Masc individuals, woman please do not read this! You can read if your Trans and use any different Masc pronouns (if your unsure about reading this, you can simply ask, I do not bite)!

＞ Vil Schoenheit

Fully understands each experience in being Trans is different per individual and completely understands what he'll have to ask for. He asks for anything notable other than your preferred pronouns, and he kisses your cheek as you finish.

Vil is apart of many workplace organizations that are against discrimination and nobody can really do anything about it, nor want to as Vil only surrounds himself with the best. So if you visit him on set you are guaranteed to meet nice (or at least professional and respectful) people.

If you're binding, he only promotes the safest of bindings and the proper brands to help. Might be a bit of a spender on anything you need and only stops once everything has a matching outfit. Yes, your shape-wear now has a matching outfit that gives you a masculine look based on your combined taste.

He's not perfect and might push you on makeup if you don't wear any or how you have said makeup on, but he's honestly trying and does give you examples to help see what he sees. If you don't like makeup at all, please tell him and he'll make a compromise of only foundation and maybe something for your cheeks when with him. Make sure to keep makeup wipes…

＞ Lilia Vanrouge

Has been around the block and completely understands what you're talking about. Don't be shocked by that, you'll hurt this old man's feelings! He's seen and battled alongside many men and women who also were Trans, and don't worry, some of them are still close to him today!

He's genuinely honest with you (about his age, about the general relationship he has with Silver) and would appreciate honesty about yourself (your health) as well. He knows it's hard and he will not force anything from you: but don't lie about how you feel or if you're feeling dysphoria. He would like to help. If you tell him about your past, he'll feel a bit special!

He likes to spoil you a bit, as he's a royal advisor and you must know he has some thaumarks to throw around. Matching outfits (like onesies and hoodies too large for each of you) and fuzzy socks in horrendous colors of his favorite video games are common gifts! But he does chip in a binding set every special occasion, so you have a set that matches your growing body at least!

Will genuinely be surprised there's flags for such things, even if he knows the dark history equality has to get through to make it so mainstream (he's a part of a race and kingdom looking for equality himself)! Please, get him something with a flag of his gender/sexuality on it and make sure it matches yours! (If you get a hoodie, get him one; if you get a pin, get him one.)

＞ Trey Clover

The big brother at the start of you coming out to him. He stands there with his arms crossed and listens silently with a smile and nodding his head. He loves you and only you, no matter what: a relationship is something you choose everyday you wake up, and he loves you dearly each day.

He then slides into being a helicopter mom sometime after the full reveal and the asking questions part. Your binding safely, correct? Do you have the proper shape-wear that's your size? What time did you put it on this morning? If you're binding and you're doing fine, reassure him that you have this handled.

Expect a dumb couple thing that you'd only see maybe a decade ago! "My boyfriend has a good cook in me!" is on his apron while he cooks. He has a t-shirt with a cheap decal that has "Return to my boyfriend" and, scarily, he has a matching one in your size reading: "I'm the boyfriend". There is no way anybody can mistake you two from being a couple this way!

Is the most down to Earth of the three and also asks about any hygiene changes or difficulties you may have. He's an older sibling and knows that hygiene is very important, and doesn't shy away from bodily topics. If it's too much for you he'll never bring it up again, as your happiness is important. But do take care of yourself, you mean a lot to him!

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theschizotypalsolilquy · 3 months

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Lol how tf that's biphobia when all I sent was a twt meme which is literally what he does.

Also gender neutral pronouns and JK ? It's new era babe. Him singing exclusively about fucking women is one thing, let's ignore as it's not his real life but just repeatedly chosing those songs. But how about him changing 'him' to 'her' and stressing on it while rapping Latto's part ? Or did everyone except Jikookers had a mass hallucination about that ?

It won't be me needing your final recommendation but jikookers. 10 years proof my ass as if there are no boy group or girl group members acts even couply and gay on screen but have secret gf or bf respectively offcam. I bet JK is with his 100th pus$y lol.

Oh for the love of fucking Zeus.

You're one of those, right? Fuckboy JK.

Jesus fucking christ.

How yall think that man, whose favorite movie is the Titanic, has dreams of re-enacting the hug scene in the rain from another of his favorite films, whose love language is grand gestures *cough Jimin cough*, has sucked his ear in front of thousands, has been given a hickey by Jimin,....that he couldnt have possibly stuck his dick in another man's ass cuz yall think he's too busy fucking a different pussy everyday means you don't know Jungkook. That's biphobia, babe.

I've known fuckboys. I've been a fuckgirl. I've fucked fuckboys. He's so far removed from the wattpad caricature yall have turned him into it isn't even funny, babe.

I couldn't give a flying fuck about what gender pronouns he uses in songs. I'm not stupid or delusional enough to think that man was gonna say that he was fucking men in his songs.

What I do know is that he used a gay song, written by a gay artist, even paid the cost to use it, so he could show us how much he loves Jimin in GCF Toyko.

Babe.

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julieverne · 1 year

Text

"Do you think your brothers would stop trying to kiss me if they thought - uh..." Maura trailed off and Jane looked up at her from where she'd been wiping down the counter. Maura loaded more dishes into the dishwasher and Jane pulled the towel Maura liked to dry her hands with from the drawer in front of her, continued wiping, waiting for Maura to finish. "Oh, it's silly. I just thought, if they thought..." Maura trailed off again.

"Are you going to finish any of those thoughts?" Jane asked wryly, taking the garbage outside. When she came back and washed her hands - drying them on a different, seperate but identical looking towel as Maura had - Maura appeared to have composed herself, hands clasped in front of her.

"Yes. If your brothers thought someone else had claimed me -"

This time Jane cut her off. "Claimed you? Like the seat at the back of the bus? Like shotgun?"

"Perhaps 'claimed' was the incorrect word to use at this juncture." Maura worried her lower lip with her teeth and Jane softened.

"Are they bothering you that much?" Jane asked, concerned. "I can call them off. Say your house is off-limits for a while."

"No, it's not - if they thought I was seeing someone, do you think they'd respect that?"

"Are you seeing someone?" Jane asked flatly, watching Maura closely for a tell. Her behaviour was definitely odd tonight.

"Technically, perhaps. Right now I'm seeing you, because you're here and I'm looking at you, and it, uh, it's worked in the past." Maura blushed and it all clicked for Jane. The hesitance, the uncertainty.

"You want us to pull a Giovanni on my brothers?" Jane asked. "Maura, I can think of five better plans that don't involve lying. And first one is telling them both to leave you alone. Are you really worried about them?"

"I don't want to hurt their feelings," Maura said quietly. "They remind me so much of you, I forget they might think I'm being more than friendly when I'm just being friendly. I don't know how to..." Maura made a vague gesture. "So they know."

"You could just tell them," Jane said bluntly.

"That seems presumptuous," Maura fussed with the clean counter and Jane took Maura's hands, held them, held them still until Maura looked up from their joined hands and met Jane's gaze, still blushing.

"You know this is going to backfire, don't you?" Jane asked ruefully, and Maura's eyes lit up.

"Oh, you will? Jane, thank you."

"The things I do for you," Jane grumbled, but her smile never shifted.

---

At Sunday dinner Jane's hands found themselves reaching for Maura's more often than usual, but no one seemed to notice or think it was strange in any way. She draped her arm around the back of Maura's chair, feeling Maura lean into her, tuck herself in against Jane. Still nothing. She pressed a kiss to Maura's temple, hearing her sigh in contentment. Still nothing. Jane cleared her throat.

"Uh, we have a little announcement. Maura and I are, - what did you call it, babe? Oh yeah, 'seeing each other'. We thought we should start telling people."

Finally. Frankie and Tommy both looked shocked. Angela looked smug, getting up to kiss both girls on their heads, clearly pleased with the situation.

"Jeez, Jane, thanks for ruining lesbians for me," Tommy said finally. Jane ignored him and let her hand find Maura's on the table. Frankie's eyes narrowed.

"Naw, I don't buy it. Giovanni said you two was dating, but you were both still going out with men that weren't him."

"We need to thank him, don't we," Jane said smoothly to Maura. "Without that elaborate ruse I'd have never realised how much you meant to me. Never have realised how right this felt." Jane lifted their joined hands and kissed Maura's knuckles, looking deep into her eyes. "Sell it," she hissed, now that she was facing away from her brothers.

"Jane's always been exceptional, and while I'm not a 'lesbian' as Tommy puts it, I've always found women to be as attractive to men. But no one, and I mean no one, is as attractive to me as Jane is," Maura flushed and dropped her head. Hives, Jane thought, worried. She had Maura's epipen in her pocket, just in case, but when Maura looked up her face and chest were clear, and she was met only by Maura's honest gaze. Her breath caught, and Maura shrugged.

"Naw, still not buying it," Frankie said, and why did Jane have to be related to the most detective family ever? She let out a small whine of frustration. "I know she can't lie, but she always says there's different kinds of attraction models. She could be telling one truth. But why, Jane? Why would you two want to lie about this?"

Jane wanted to shoot a panicked look at Maura but she held back, held steady. She let her fingers wend into Maura's, let her thumb caress Maura's palm.

"What possible reason would we have to lie about this, Frankie?" Jane spat out, her temper flaring. "For Christ's sake, we're trying to come out - out of a closet I've been deeply enmeshed in most of my life, and you can't be bothered to be supportive?" For some reason Jane felt tears in her eyes, and she pressed the back of her hand to her nose. "Get out," she hissed, her eyes flashing half-heartedly, trying to save face from a moment of weakness.

"Hey, I was only saying," Tommy cut in. "I mean, you two - yeah, you work together. I mean, you do, but as a couple too. You like most of the same stuff."

"She likes art, I like baseball," Jane snarked.

"Yeah, but she joins us to watch the Sox every week they play," Tommy pointed out. Jane and Tommy bickered back and forth and Frankie watched, seeing the way Maura's hand was rubbing Jane's back to comfort her, seeing the way Jane's temper was all over the place - angry and lashing out one moment, afraid and subdued the next.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," Frankie said finally. "It's just - you always said you weren't, y'know? And Mawra - she doesn't look the - I'm going to have to do sensitivity training again, aren't I?" Frankie groaned, and he finally smiled, getting up to kiss Jane's head too. "I'm happy for ya. For ya both."

"Thanks, Frankie," Jane said, her voice husky. She got up to dish out deserts, planting a kiss in Maura's hair since it seemed like the thing to do. She wondered where she'd pulled that anger from; maybe it was the mocking look on Frankie's face. As if Jane could never pull someone as rich and famous and gorgeous as Maura. As though Jane didn't deserve her. Jane shook her head, moving in when Maura grasped her far hip.

"You okay?" Maura asked gently. "That was a lot."

"Yeah, I'm just... I have too many brothers, you know." She was aware of how close they were, of how close Maura's face was, of how easy it would be to lean in and kiss her. And it would sell it, and Maura wouldn't mind because they were pretending, they were just pretending, and if she ever had a shot at kissing her beautiful best friend it was right now. If she ever wanted to - and somehow she did. She flinched when Maura's hand touched her cheek, not realising that she'd been crying until Maura dried her hand on that one towel she loved more than all the others. She was crying. Why was she crying? It has felt stressful. It had felt like coming out - and she hadn't thought this through. G they only saw occasionally but she was - ugh - related to her brothers. They were going to assume this was real, that she was gay or bi or a lesbian or something, and she could never take that back.

But they hadn't been mad. Just confused, then accepting. If Jane had been coming out, that was better than she could have hoped for.

Angela came in to grab the dishes, and she let Maura deal with the mess that was Jane, openly crying now, both of her brothers looking uncomfortable. Jane could hear them whispering, wondering what they could do to make this better for her. Easier for her. To be more supportive of her. She heard Angela say 'PFLAG', and then nothing else when Maura looked up at her.

"Are you upset because I asked you to do this?" Maura asked, and she was crying too. Jane shook her head, clumsily raising her hands to Maura's cheek to catch the tears that fell. "Are you upset because they think you're gay?"

"I'm upset because I think I'm gay," Jane said lowly, honestly, for the first time in her life. "And I didn't think that would happen, at least not right now, at least..." Jane trailed off. "I'm sorry."

"Well, you sold it," Maura said, and Jane looked over, Tommy and Frankie's heads swivelling back to look at Maura's tv, away from where they stood in the kitchen. "And why would I mind? I meant everything I said."

"Yeah, but Frankie's right. You can twist things sometimes."

"Jane Clementine Rizzoli. When I say I love you, I mean it. I mean it more than anyone has ever meant it. And I kind of hoped - I'm sorry for the subterfuge, and that it's upset you - but I kind of hoped you felt the same way." Jane swallowed and nodded, fidgeting.

"So, uh. What now?" Jane asked. "I'm a snotty mess - I want - but not -"

"Now we go clean ourselves up and say goodnight to the rest of the Rizzolis," Maura said firmly. "And then - well. The night is young."

"The night is old as balls, Maura," Jane said, and Maura rolled her eyes. "But yeah. Okay. I can do that." Jane wiped her face again, cleaning Maura's mascara for her out of habit. She let her palm rest on Maura's cheek and looked down at her, so short, hair copper in this light, a wry smile on those soft, kissable lips... Jane couldn't help herself. She leaned in and finally took what she wanted, what had been offered, what was finally hers, and Maura kissed her back. When they pulled away the house was empty, the other Rizzolis making a break for it while they were distracted.

"Guess we're skipping a step," Jane said, her voice little more than a croak, as though she was parched and thirsty for Maura. Maura nodded, her eyes a dark well of want, and she wordlessly took Jane's mouth again, pressing Jane up against the counter until Jane breathlessly swallowed. "If either of my brothers even tries..." Jane said, her voice firm and angry again.

"Are you claiming me? Maura asked, her voice husky, and Jane had no response but to nod bemusedly, watching as Maura took her hand and led her to the bedroom.

#rizzles #rizzoli and isles #maura isles #jane rizzoli #rizzoli & isles #rizzles fanfic #fake dating

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chaos-event-horizon · 1 year

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An update of a sort.

Have been informed that Goldie is looking at this blog and screenshotting it to make comments about how she doesn't like or support proshippers and "doesn't give special support to anyone" and that includes trans people, because trans people are normal humans, but has never once said anything bad about them or incorrectly gendered anyone.

Hmm. Interesting.

"I couldn't be further from a trans exclusionary feminist, I respect trans people and don't align myself with feminists!" || "Trans rights activists are so dramatic! The person who has called for their rights to be taken away and supports groups calling for their murder is OBVIOUSLY in the right here! They should really just listen to her, I'm sure they'd agree that they are horrible people if they did!"

Ah, yes, how big and different of you.

"Anyone with a uterus is a woman. All afab people are women. Didn't your mommy teach you the difference between men and women? I am ignoring the fact that you specifically mentioned trans people because I think that as long as I don't mention them, no one will read between the lines here when I say that if you were born with a uterus you are a woman and nothing will ever change that. This cannot possibly mean that I am disrespecting trans people because I am ignoring them."

You're right, what else could that possibly mean?

And not a proshipper? Not supporting proshippers?

Hmm. How very strange. Then maybe you should stay the fuck out of the tags and stop using them to promote yourself? Since all this shipping stuff doesn't matter to you, why bother forcing your ass in? Since you think proshippers are so stupid and dramatic, why are you using them to try to get people to interact with you-- something that clearly is not working, since you claim to not like anyone here besides the person who is telling everyone involved with "problematic" media to kill themselves?

I'd say that this could all be chalked up to misunderstandings, as it is implied that you are from Germany... however, English is not my first language, and I seem to be able to understand these things well enough.

I'm aware that there are people who follow Rian and I, and who we interact with, who still interact with this person and claim that she's a lovely person who would never hurt a fly. You know, except for the very obvious blood kink and sado-masochism. Whatever, I do not care. The only thing that concerns me is the health and happiness of my family and close acquaintances, and whatever drama is attempting to be stirred up about this is just needless internet dick measuring.

But if you're going to have a pissing contest, at least have the decency to not chew on your own feet while trying to aim. The results might get messy.

As for avditor or whatever, I know all I need to. He's an asshole who sends threats and calls people pedophiles for liking fictional things. He's a twerp. He's an idiot. He's a blowhard who is simultaneously claiming to defend and bow down to a group while talking over them and telling them to kill themselves when they correct him. And I personally think it's hilarious that he hides behind all those acts, just like you do-- and yes, Goldie, I know someone is showing this to you for your viewing pleasure, in the hopes that they get to see more drama to light up the inevitable darkness of all of your worthless existences. I'm fairly certain that if I hadn't put my foot down and turned off anon, we would have been hit by another laughable wave of bitches and cunts that seem to be at the neck and call of that sad little group.

So go ahead. Say what you will. Eat your own tail as you all bend over backwards to justify your own hypocrisy while condemning people who do far less. I quite honestly do not give two shits, except insofar as how it effects Rian. why not screen shot this and pass it to your own followers? You can circle-jerk and claim victory to your heart's content, and eat shit while doing so, as I will no longer be addressing these issues directly.

I however am tossing this whole farce aside, now. Because quite frankly I'm too busy to deal with arrogant insects. Enjoy whatever conjecture you wish to continue spinning on this, because I will no longer be publicly speaking on this matter, and neither will Rian.

But if I hear about anyone sending anon threats on our behalf, I hope you imagine the sound of my crushing your skulls and think better of it. We will have none of that.

#discourse #mature #goldie90 #avditor

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helsex-moved · 11 months

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Posted this as a thread on twitter because I got fed up with them so might as well put it here.

Why mspec lesbian hate/discourse is just the same old bigotry and terf-like exclusionary mentality in a new font:

Where the problem starts is making hard and fast 'rules' about any label, sexuality or gender. Like, lesbians can only be non-men attracted to non-men, or lesbians can only be attracted to someone feminine identifying.

That there's a 'point' to any sort of definition like that. Labels are not boxes not for the wider populace to smash you into, they're for you and only you.

We contain multitudes, humans are vastly complex, our feelings and identities cannot be explained by one label with one fixed definition and they shouldn't have to be. Reducing a label to a simple meaning for your own convenient understanding is foolishness. You don't have to understand the intricacies of everyone's identities, you just need to respect it.

But engaging with that argument on the terms that there are set limits of labels, this ignores HUNDREDS of years of queer history. People have been using 'conflicting labels' for centuries. If we say it can only be 'non-men' that asks us to define ourselves what qualifies as a 'non-man' which makes us no better than the republicans trying to ask people to define what a woman is.

Gender and sexuality are different to every single person and everyone will only be able to define their own view and experience with it.

But ignoring that nuance it still disregards people's gender identity.

There ARE transmasc and transmen lesbians, lesbians who fully identify as men but also as lesbians for various reasons that are all personal and valid.

There are genderfluid and sexuality fluid people as well as multigender people who one day are gay men or lesbian women or lesbian men and gay women!! Or all of those at once !! Gender and sexuality are messy and it's so wrong to go around and police it based on your arbitrary standards.

Hell butch lesbians are right there!!!! A lot of them identify in large part with, or even solely with, masculinity NOT femininity. I myself identify at butch and am transmasc with no connection to femininity or womanhood.

Before policing what identities people can have in this way it was policing whether or not trans women are valid lesbians. Or nonbinary people. Or even just cis lesbians who use he/him or other pronouns. These arguments are still used by TERFs. Do you really want to be on the same side of thinking as a terf?

It's all rooted in bigotry and feeling entitled to label someone, not respecting the label someone makes for themself, it's a tale as old as time but now we're labeling it as progressive.

All labels made up in the end. They're just vague social constructions and definitions we use to try and explain how we feel to others but can never fully explain our entirely nor should they be expected to.

Good faith identities do not hurt you. Good faith identities do not hurt the community.

Bigots hurt the community. Infighting hurts the community. By standing against rather than with people who are more similar to you than different you are perpetuating bigotry in new flavors and wasting energy infighting while there is a genocide waiting on our doorstep. By attacking what you don't understand you aren't any better than the bigots

To bi/pan/mspec lesbians who have been subject to seeing so much hate for them from the community that's supposed to be theirs, I love you <3 happy pride.

#doc says stuff #yeah this whole ass essay has been rotting in my head for a long time #releif to finally get it out #lgbtq #queer stuff #mspec lesbian discourse #mspec lesbian #if you saw they embarrassingly messed up version no you didnt #Tumblr is such a pain whith hiw you can move around whole paragraphs

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pink-roxxes · 3 months

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Saying Nymphet

Ok this needs to be talked about……

I am here to share what may be an uncomfortable truth to many in the “coquette” community, a controversial opinion and something that may very well get me banned from this platform but I no longer care, mis information and ignorance is the death of what could be a beautiful and thriving community here on tumblr, firstly I would like to start by saying my first controversial point, I am a nymphet, now please before u scroll report or leave a hate comment I beg that you please read this point in it’s entirety, I have spent month researching this topic in depth and I’m only asking for 5 minutes of your time, I promise that even if at the end I have not convinced you, I can 100% promise you will have learned something new

Part one: the word nymphet

In Paris, France 1995, French poets, writers, Journalists and playwright were interviewed on their thoughts about the rhetorical publishing and banning of Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita in France. There was outrage… Of course… but strangely much of this outrage among writer was not just for the controversies of writing from the perspective of a predator and showcasing the abuse of a child, but over a word, nymphet, this word now strikes fear in the hearts of women all over the world, it brings us back to a time of self exploitation, starvation and limited internet restrictions, but back then the outrage was an outrage of plagiarism. Many writers pointed out that the French playwright Rosnard had coined the word earlier with a very different meaning, coming from the Greek word nymph that describe beautiful nature deities, Rosnard used the Word Nymphet in his writing to describe gentle women, in touch with nature, femininity and kindness, Rosnard believed that the word Nymphet, was used to show how a human woman, through her beauty and gentleness, could invoke the same power and love as a Greek deity like a nymph, that were often known to make mortal men fall madly in love with them, in touch with nature and aware of their own beauty but always out of reach of a mere mortal, this is the true nymphet, Vladimir Nabokov then went on an interview and ADMITTED that this is where he got the word from, but decided to change the meaning in his book and claim it to promote his own writing, devaluing Rosnard writings and coining of the word. Rosnards meaning involves something very different, it invokes the power that we hold as women, the beauty of our strength and the strength of our gentleness, that we as mortal women could be just as powerful, desired, and elusive and the great nymph by being nymphets, us mortal nymphs through respect and love for ourself and the world around us, our lust for life, and our sweetness in the face adversity, is our greatest strength and elevates our beauty to something between human and nymph, to nymphet.

Part 2: The fear of the nymphet

Now I am aware that for a long time on tumblr the nymphet community became something toxic and disgusting, it started, basing itself on Vladimir Nabokov’s warped definition and so young girls all over the world willingly sexualized themselves and were prayed on by grown men who took advantage of the movement, in addition to this there was the issue of eating disorders, all of our bodies are different and many girls felt the need to starve themself to look like the prepubescent beauty idols of the nymphet community, many of us have been lied to and told that to be feminine is to be violent to yourself, that to be feminine is to restrict and starve yourself and make yourself smaller but I am here to tell you that that isn’t true, I wish to start a community of nymphets, us gentle women who know that to love fully with all of our heart and to have big hearts and big smiles and big hugs is our greatest power, to show kindness and sweetness in a world with rough edges, protect fiercely those who need you, to love yourself and feed yourself as you would feed those you love, move your body and dance in your room while you do your hair or climb a tree to read a book in it branches or just stretch in the morning and feel the sunlight on your skin and the vitality of your body, love is the ultimate act of femininity, if you are free to love then the battle is already won and you have nothing to fear.

Part 3: a new community of nymphets

Now I write this in my bed, with messy pink sheets and a purring cat in my arms, the sun is just starting to rise and I can’t help but feel hope, hope for us lost nymphets scattered across the world, it isn’t a coincidence that aesthetics became more popular during Covid, we have been experiencing loneliness like never before, and aesthetics give us a sense of fake community, it tells us that we are part of a group with shared interests (goths, hippies, coquettes) but how many of us actually know people in these communities how many of us talk to those people with shared interests and have discourse and are there for eachother, this fake community through aesthetics is tiring and I’m done, I’m here to say if you feel that you are a nymphet then say so proudly wether online or in person, let us find eachother let us share with eachother and talk to one another openly, let us gentle women build a community, I am willing to take the first step, I will be starting a new instagram account and creating a group for us nymphets, if you’re interested just ask, and on this blog I will from now on be dedicating it to teaching you all tips and tricks that I’ve picked up over the years for being a nymphet, good morning everyone and I hope you all have a good day💗

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