#you can't even properly speak your own fucking language!!!!! :)))

[callsignfate]

Valeria Garza HC's

(These are random hc's in no particular order, I would say mainly relationship hc's. Enjoy)

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

♤She is and will use anything against you. Shorter than her? She's going to 100% use that against you. Scared of spiders or the dark? She will make fun of you for it. It will be in a slightly mean way, but its kinda her love language.

♤You can't tell me this woman isn't SMOOTH. She will say the most beautiful and flirtatious thing in Spanish.. even if you don't know Spanish.

♤If you don't know Spanish? She will speak to you in Spanish in hopes you'll slowly learn it. Not that it helps or teaches you. She will make fun of you for it.

♤She's very transparent when you guys first get together that you'll now be a target and that you are now basically her willing prisoner. She will take you out and do things with you, but only with her. She doesn't trust her men to keep you safe properly. 100% believes that if you need to get something done right, she has to do it herself.

♤This woman is in control. Take that as you will, but she is. She doesn't change that fact for anyone. Control makes her comfortable. You ask her to let you take the reigns? She will laugh at you and shut that down immediately. This woman gives off "fuck around, find out" and boy will you find out.

♤Valeria's bed is the bland. Two pillows and a bland blanket. This woman prioritizes function over everything else. Her room is bland too. Barely any furniture and MAYBE a TV (that is covered in dust because she never uses it.)

♤She. Is. Possessive. She doesn't have to leave hickeys or anything on your skin. She doesn't have to. Her men know who you are and that you are hers. Do not try to leave hickeys on her skin. She will not be happy. She 100% feels like they are something horny teenagers do.

♤Valeria's way of showing love is picking on you endlessly. If she sees you actually struggling, she's not stupid and will tone it down or stop. She can be loving and soft if needed, although you tell anyone, and she will deny it.

♤She obviously has an attitude. A big attitude. She wins most arguments 100%. She might compromise by letting whatever you argue about happen if she thinks on it and realizes she was in the wrong. Do not expect her to admit she was wrong. She will take that shit to the grave.

♤ Hate someone? Don't tell her about it. She would kill for you. Once she loves you, she will move heaven and earth for you. Devoted. This woman would be DEVOTED to you.

♤She knows your insecurities and won't make fun of them, but she will tell you in her own way that she likes them. Now, if you're ever insecure about your relationship or worried that one of her men likes her? She would 100% degrade that person and tell you how much she genuinely doesn't like them or hates them.

♤She knows what she does to you. She loves to know you're obsessed with her in every way. She will 100% figure out every little thing about you and what you like about her and use it against you in any way possible.

♤I feel like she struggles to say that she loves you. You say it? She will 100% say "and I, you" or something to get around saying the exact words. I feel like she may say it in Spanish.

♤Nicknames? All of them are somehow mean in a loving way. All of them are in Spanish as well. If they make you melt, she will only call you by them. (Will call you idiot in Spanish as a nickname)

♤She can cook, and she likes to on days that weren't particularly long or busy (which is rare). If you know how to cook, and you cook for her, she will eat it. She will tell you things that were wrong with it if she finds any.

♤Valeria is blunt. Straight to the point. She will tell you if you are doing something wrong, call you stupid, laugh at you, then she will call you a cute nickname and help.

♤Do you wanna dress up for something or some reason? Go right ahead. She won't. She will wear the same style and type of clothes. Pants and a shirt. I feel like she 100% feels more comfortable and confident in pants and a shirt. I think she almost prefers it because she needs to make sure she's ready for anything.

#valeria x reader #valeria garza x you #valeria garza x reader #valeria garza x fem!reader #mw2 valeria x reader #valeria mw2 #valeria cod #valeria garza #valeria garza cod

[ghostkennedy]

Every Version of You (4)

A reverse harem with three variants of Leon Kennedy and feminine reader.

~ Masterlist ~ Previous Part ~ Next Part ~

(i struggled a lot with this part and putting it off because it's filler. it's the event that needed to happen to get from point a to point b. but i've done it so now updates should come quicker!)

WORD COUNT: 2k

SONGS: I Can't Handle Change - Roar and I Bet on Losing Dogs - Mitski

CONTENT WARNINGS FOR PART FOUR: dejecting from one's self, anxiety, crying, some comfort, thoughts of giving up, arguing, let me know if there's something else that needs to be tagged

TAGLIST: @growingupnrealizing , @weneewinnie , @delulusimps , @yoonbabe-d , @missjoenowhere , @cassiecasluciluce , @greywardensaywhat , @kennedyswhore , @british-mint-bunny , @all-mights-babygirl , @weasleytwinscumslut , @pinkrose1422 , @ir3nic-sluvv , @blue4pple , @izuoyarmin , @cosmcqt

!!!!!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!!!!!

PART "CHAPTER" FOUR

You stand, frozen in place, right in front of the giant tube that’s supposed to contain Leon. Every noise in the room sounds far away. You’re not even sure you’re really standing here right now with how unreal you feel. How disconnected you feel from yourself.

Numb. You feel numb.

Is any of this real? How can it be real? You know it’s stupid to question yourself like this. You always laughed off people who would ask dumb questions like, “Is this a dream?” Of course it’s not a dream! But now you’re questioning if this is a fucking dream. You don’t know, maybe you never knew.

You can tell the men are trying to talk to you, but you can’t seem to force yourself out of your own head. Can’t make yourself care enough to socialize with any of them. You wanna stay inside your mind’s fuzziness. It wraps you like a blanket and it’s the only solace you can seem to find.

You’ve been able to push your feelings down–to just push yourself through the motions, but it seems to be hitting you all at once now. And you’re not sure why, but you’re dreading facing Leon. And there’s no specific reason for your anxiety, maybe it’s just everything coming to the surface in the face of a conversation you don’t know how to have.

Maybe you’re dreading his reaction. 

“Hey!” you hear someone yell to get your attention as they nudge your shoulder, which finally snaps you out of your almost hypnotic state. 

Your head snaps in their direction, “Hmm? What?”

Your eyes meet older Leon’s. “Are you ready?” It’s a stupid fucking question. You and him both know it, but for some reason, you still find yourself having a hard time responding. You open your mouth several times to reply, but no sound manages to make it past your lips.

“Are you okay?” he lowers his voice to nearly a whisper.

You’re not sure why that does something to your brain–why you’re biting your lip as tears slip down your cheeks again. Why did the dam break right now? Before you can even force the tears back down, force yourself to keep it together, he’s wrapping his arms around you.

You’re limp in his grasp. Wide eyed and arms hanging at your sides. You’re stiff in his arms, unable to properly react. His chin is resting on top of your head as he presses your cheek into his chest.

You wish he’d just stop. Pull himself away from you. Read your body language and take the hint. But he doesn’t. He only clings to you tighter.

And you don’t know why, fuck, you don’t know why anything anymore, but you soften in his arms. You allow yourself to accept his embrace. And for some reason, it makes you feel somewhat calmer. As if you can finally breathe in his arms.

“It’s gonna be okay, yeah? Just breathe. You’re fine, everything is fine. I’ve got you.”

And you believe him completely. You pull your head away from his chest and look back into his eyes. 

You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath, holding it, then opening your eyes as you release it.

“That’s it. Feeling better?” He tucks your hair behind your ear and you can’t speak. You force yourself to nod. Just nodding feels like it takes all of your energy. 

You’re exhausted, utterly and undoubtedly exhausted. You could pass out while standing up if you allowed yourself to. But you know you can’t. You know you must swallow down all of the negative feelings because there’s much more pressing matters at hand. You are not what’s important right now. 

“I’m okay,” you assure Leon softly. “Let’s do this.”

“You’re sure?” He cocks an eyebrow in obvious disbelief. 

You nod your head weakly. “Like ripping a band-aid off, right?” He rubs your shoulders, but doesn’t attempt to move on. “I’m sure, Leon, please.”

He finally releases you, but not before offering up his hand. It confuses you at first, but you eventually relent and intertwine your fingers with his. You’ll take any link to ground you that you can. You’re still not fully convinced that you won’t just fade into nothingness, maybe you’d even welcome it and allow it to consume you. 

It’d be so easy to let yourself go as well, but you’re not hanging on for yourself. You’re hanging on for Leon and maybe that’s enough for you. Well, it has to be enough for you, it’s all you have to cling to.

“Okay, here we go,” Luis mumbles as he pulls the lever and the blinding light is back and somehow stronger this time. 

Before you can even reach up to cover your own eyes, someone else’s hand is covering them. Your free hand shoots up to cover the hand over your eyes. It’s obvious who it is, so you run your hand up his arm and cover his eyes with your hand. It’s not the most comfortable position, but you’re fucking greatful for it.

The light is gone and you both drop your hands, looking ahead as Leon’s drenched body is pulled from the liquid by Chris. Chris pulls Leon’s body down the ladder with the help of Luis and they lay him on the ground.

“Leon? Leon, can you hear me?” Chris speaks as Leon’s eyes flutter open and closed as he slowly wakes up. 

Leon’s eyes finally stay open and he stares up at Chris with a blank expression on his face. He slowly blinks as confusion creeps up his face.

He suddenly sits up and pushes himself to his feet, stumbling backwards away from Chris and Luis. His wet clothes cling to his body, throwing off his balance as he braces himself against the wall. 

“Leon. Calm down,” Luis tries to level with him.

He shakes his head, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Just here to help-”

“Help with what, asshole?”

Older Leon speaks up, “Well, if you’d let him explain and stop interrupting-”

“And who the fuck are you?” Leon spits out as his eyes dart to older Leon’s. He looks down at your laced fingers and then his eyes meet yours. “What’s going on?”

You pull your hand from older Leon’s and take a few steps toward Leon, “I’m not entirely sure, but everything’s okay, okay?”

“Don’t,” he puts his hand out in front of him causing you to halt your movements. “Just… stay over there.” 

You feel your face fall at the tone of his voice, talking as if he’s disgusted by you. It causes you to step backwards, your back colliding with older Leon’s chest. 

“It’s okay,” he quietly speaks into your ear, “He’s just confused right now.” You nod your head in response, because what else can you do?

Leon continues arguing with Chris and Luis, but you tone it out. You turn and look up at older Leon’s face. He brings his hand down to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb gently beneath your eye. Your eyelids instinctively close in the comfort of his gesture.

“And what the fuck is going on over there?” Leon’s raised voice brings your attention back to him. “Who the fuck is that?”

Your eyes dart between the two of them, not sure if you should tell Leon the truth. Older Leon meets your gaze and nods his head once, encouraging you to speak.

You take a deep breath before speaking, “He’s you, Leon. From the future.” 

The room is quiet as you and Leon stare at each other. His face is skeptical as he looks between you and the older man.

“You’re joking?” He huffs out and you shake your head at him. Another moment of silence passes. “What do you mean by that?”

“He’s here to save me, Leon.”

He scowls. “Why are you fucking with me right now? What’s wrong with you?”

Older Leon steps in front of you. “Don’t speak to her like that.”

“Fuck you dude-”

“Can you shut the fuck up?”

“I’m not taking this-”

“Shut the fuck up!” Older Leon yells and the room falls into a silence once again. It’s awkward. It’s fucking uncomfortable. You could cut the tension with a knife. Just any sort of cheesy phrase that could be used to describe this shit, insert that here. 

Everything feels so unnatural. How could a conversation ever flow under these conditions? In these circumstances? How are you supposed to act, supposed to talk?

“Do you want her to die?” Older Leon gestures toward you. Leon scoffs and rolls his eyes, but doesn’t answer. “Well. Do you?”

“Obviously not.”

“She will. And there won’t be anything we can do to stop it if you don’t get it together.”

“You gonna kill her?”

“No, but-”

“But nothing! You’re talking out your ass right now. I’m not doing this shit.”

“Really?” Older Leon asks in a monotone voice that has chills running down your spine. Leon nods in response, causing older Leon to suddenly snap.

He closes the gap between the two of them, grabbing Leon by his collar and pushing him towards the giant vat of liquid again.

Chris follows after them. “Leon, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to show him.”

“We don’t even know if that’ll work.”

“Don’t care.”

“Just think for a minute.”

“No.” The men fight the entire way to the top of the vat of liquid, but older Leon manages to get the younger man up there.

“Fuck,” Luis calls out as he runs to the control panel slamming down some buttons. “Okay. Okay! Be careful Leon-” He isn’t able to finish his warning before older Leon is pulling both of the men into the liquid.

“Oh my god!” You gasp out as you watch the Leon’s floating in the water, electrical currents surrounding them, looking like they’re shooting straight into them. Older Leon grips Leon by his shoulders, both their heads falling back weightlessly as they go still in the liquid. 

Water swirls all around them and you can do nothing but watch. It’s like they’re the calm in the storm, so still as a whirlpool rages on around them. 

As quickly as they entered their comatose states, they’re snapping out of it. Breaking through the top of the liquid and gasping for air. 

Older Leon pulls himself up on the platform first, offering Leon a hand that he ignores as he pulls himself out of the liquid as well. They sit on the platform in complete silence, both staring off into space.

A ringing cuts through the silence and Luis picks up a small phone sitting on the control panel. 

“Leon,” both men's attention dart to Luis, but he gestures the phone towards the younger of the two. “It’s yours.”

Leon hurries down the ladder and grabs the phone, answering quickly. “Hello?... Now?... Can it wait?...Alright, fine… Yeah, I’ll be right there.” He hangs up the phone and turns to face you. “I have to go. Urgent request by the president.”

“Be safe?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He nods his head, scanning the room before heading for the door.

He stops dead in his tracks when he sees Rookie, who’s been standing off to the side, staying out of the way this whole time. But he quickly shakes his head and continues, slamming the door shut behind him.

You look over at Rookie and he shrugs at you. “I didn’t think seeing me would help.”

You didn’t think of it that way. Of course Leon would instantly recognize his younger self, it’s what he used to look at in the mirror every day.

“Is he gonna be okay?” You ask no one in particular. Your eyes scan the room, waiting for someone, anyone, to answer you. 

“He’ll get there,” Chris finally speaks up. “But we got work to do. We knew he’d be pulled away for that mission, so we knew he wouldn’t be around.” Chris’ hand meets your shoulder and he squeezes in an attempt to comfort you. “Get some rest. Tomorrow, we start Operation Save Your Life? Or whatever you’d like to call it.”

Chris heads out the same door Leon did and your gaze falls to the floor. You doubt you’ll be able to sleep after everything that just happened, but you’d be lying if sleep wasn’t calling out to you.

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfiction #resident evil 6 #resident evil 4 #resident evil 5 #resident evil 2 #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil vendetta #ghostkennedy #every version of you #EVOY

[ash-says]

Saviour Complex Fever:

Let's address the saviour Complex today and no I am not talking here only in the romantic sense but also in platonic, familial,etc ways.

Ohh my traumatized girlies you better get your attention piqued up here cause this can be a call out or triggering post.

Speaking in my corporate babe language I am going to adopt both top to bottom and bottom to top approach to make sure you understand the problem. So without circumventing much I am going in for the goal.

1) Top to bottom Approach:

Starting with the OG," I can fix them" attitude.

Calm down babe, you can't. How about first fixing your sleep schedule for the starters?

We usually see this attitude being discussed a lot in the romantic hemisphere but I profoundly believe it plays a pivotal role in other bonds we have with people and tend to bleed into our romantic life so on and so forth.

Example: Take a child who is five years old and the parents are irresponsible. The child learns early on not only to look after itself but also acts as a therapist to his parents if one of them has zero sense of emotional boundaries and tends to trauma dump on the child. The child will look for ways in which he/she can make things easier and happier for the parent. In a way try to fix the parent and take on the role of being an adult.

How does it affect the bonds you create as an adult?

You become the mom friend.

The mama duck of the group who is always making sure everyone is taken care of properly.

You go above and beyond your comfort to help your friends out.

Take responsibility for your immediate surroundings.

Always trying to be the best and act like a saviour.

Last but not the least, people violate your boundaries time and time again but you forgive them and treat them like a child despite them being functioning adults.

So your homework is to assess your friendships, familial relationships, romantic relationships and check whether you are babysitting a adult?

If yes, are you getting paid for it enough?

No, drop the role.

2) Bottom to Top Approach:

Even the saviour dreams of being saved at times.

One of the potent reasons we tend to pick on the saviour role is because deep down we want to be saved. Salvation is what we desire.

Someone to lean on. A rock solid support. To lower our guards and be present without a worry.

Then we are faced with the harsh realities and realise it's not as simple as we think it is.

Therefore, whenever we see someone in need our instinct activates and we automatically start babysitting. We fill the void by embodying the persona that we deeply crave in our life.

It's the Chiron in us. We take on the role of the wounded healer.

That's where you need to remind yourself you don't need an external person or support to protect you. Many times we are sold this idea that we are fixed by someone else.

It's your job to fix your own house. Not your neighbours.

Your body, your mental health is where your spirit lives. Others can aid you but at the end of the day you won't be trusting your house to a total stranger. It's you who takes control and dictates the course of it.

So kill this idea that someone out there is going to walk into your life and then everything will be rainbows and roses.

Fine, if you believe life is a Disney movie you can go ahead and kiss a couple of frogs to find your prince charming. Your life, your rules.

But don't be surprised if you catch a disease or two while kissing the frogs .

After all, I always say:

There are no fucking saviours in real life. You are your own saviour, darling.

And if you do want to be a mother badly there are plenty of orphaned kids out there you can spend some time with them rather than those ungrateful, therapy inducing, namesake adults.

#gaslight gatekeep girlboss #girlblogging #glow up #it girl #self care #that girl #dark feminine energy #self love #becoming that girl #divine feminine #level up #level up journey #self development #self help #self reflection #self improvement #healing #healing journey #coqeutte #pink pilates girl #pink pilates princess #mental health #wellness #advice #trauma #that girl aesthetic #it girl aesthetic #ash-says #becoming her #hypergamy

[blindmagdalena]

Hii, how are you? I hope you're doing well! If you haven't done it yet can I request Homelander losing his powers (forever or just temporarily, it's up to you) and y/n helping him learn to do normal human things? And if possible could you add the angst of Homie being confused as to why she's still with him now that he isn't a god/hero anymore?

They're gone. Flight, strength, lasers, invulnerability. Everything that made him who he is... is gone. Homelander—can he even call himself that anymore?—feels his own mortality like a crushing weight. He's become hyperaware of the limitations of his own body, which feels more and more like a cage every day he spends in it. He's too tired, too frail, too fucking weak to do anything.

His powers weren't the only thing to disappear. No longer of use to Vought, and without the power to hold them under his thumb, he's lost that, too. The Seven. Even Ashley laughed in his fucking face. The man in the mirror, the real Homelander, perhaps, won't speak to him anymore. Everyone has left him. Except you.

He stands now in your home, dressed down in civilian clothing. He feels stripped down in them, exposed, itchy all over, but he can't bring himself to wear the suit. It feels like a costume now, a cruel mockery of what he has lost. You're showing him how to fold the laundry you taught him how to run. Your voice is a distant hum over the ringing in his ears, his gaze distant. He watches you fold the shirt, understanding, but when he moves to replicate your action, his hands feel numb and clumsy. He can't get the seams to meet the way you do. "Good job," he hears you say. John scoffs. "Don't fucking patronize me," he says, frustration laced through both his tone and his body language, drawn as tight as a stressed elastic, and just as likely to snap. From the corner of his eye, he sees you flinch, taken aback by his words. It makes him sick, but he can't stop himself. You're the only one. The only one who has stood by his side, and yet he feels a burning fury churning his gut. He looks at you properly, jaw tight, before he wads up the shirt and whips it to the floor. "Why are you even here?" He demands, closing in on you. You stand your ground, a shirt held up between your hands like some flimsy shield. "This make you feel good? Seeing me down on my fucking knees, stumbling through life like a fucking nobody? I was a hero, goddamn it! I gave this country my fucking life, and what do I have to show for it? Huh? You tell me! You tell me what any of it was fucking for!" "John, no. No. It's because I love you," you say, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. He hates the look in your wide eyes. It isn't fear, it's worse; it's pity. He can't hear your heart anymore. He can't comfort himself with the hard evidence that you aren't lying to him. Fuck, he misses the sound of your heart so much.

"Don't," he whispers, expression twisting, wounded. "I love you, John," you say again, as if you can feel he doesn't believe it. "I'm here because I love you."

"There's nothing fucking left of me," he hisses, grabbing hold of your shoulders. You used to feel like ceramic in his hands, delicate, as if he were always at risk of shattering you. Now, he can only feel your strength. You drop the shirt and lift your hands to cup his elbows, supporting the way he leans into you. "That's not true," you tell him ardently, the conviction in your voice unraveling him. "My god, John, you're... You're so much more than you realize," you say, voice catching with the sheer swell of earnest emotion flooding it. It twists like a knife in his chest. "I love you more than you'll ever know." "You fell in love with a hero," he says like a counterpoint, voice fracturing. "A fucking god." "I fell in love with you," you refute, impassioned. You shake him lightly by his arms, desperately willing him to hear you. "It was never the powers that made you my hero. It was always the man behind them." John makes a noise like you've gutted him, sinking to his knees. You go down too easily, ever eager to follow where he leads, and pull his head into the crook of your neck, cradling him. He wastes no time pulling you bodily into his lap, arms wrapping around you with urgency, holding so tightly that super strength or not, he may crush you. Despite his best efforts, a sob wrenches free from his throat. Like a domino, it knocks out another, and then another, until he's weeping openly in your arms, rocking back and forth. You cradle the back of his head, hushing him softly. You stroke his back, making him feel small in your arms. "I feel so fucking empty," he manages to grit out, breath catching on a broken breath in. "They couldn't wait. They couldn't wait to get rid of me."

"I'm sorry," you whisper. He can hear the tears you're fighting back. "I'm so, so sorry, John." You stay like that for as long as he needs you, carding your fingers through his hair as his shoulders shake through raw, unfiltered sobs. There are moments that he feels close to death, unable to breathe, lightheaded. Things he's never had to feel before. The weight of the world is bearing down on him, and for the first time in his life, he hasn't the strength to withstand it. But he has you. Eventually, exhaustion begins to set in, robbing him of the energy to weep. You hold him through every second of it, soothing whispers of love, devotion, adoration. Your words sink into him like something tangible, and if only briefly, the vest void inside him feels lesser. In this moment, pressed against your chest, John hears a familiar comfort. Your heart beats steadily in his ear. He grimaces, flexing his hold on you, and exhales a shaky, relieved breath. "Don't ever leave me," he murmurs, eyes closed. "I won't," you swear. "Not ever." He's sure that your heart doesn't waiver. He prays that it never does.

#sorry in advance i leaned way more into the angst than the 'homie learns normal stuff' fghjkl #homelander x reader #homelander x you #angst #my writing #ask and you shall receive #depowered homelander

[spoiledleaff]

Keep thinking about Mountain and Dew and Swiss fucking Auroa. Mountain and Dew in her cunt and Swiss in her ass or throat.

woah!! hell yeah, anon, now you're speaking my language, haha! ♡ this was such a lovely prompt, i'm so sorry it took me so long!

explicit ✿ cw ; triple penetration ✿ she/her aurora + he/him mountain + dew + swiss ✿ wc ; 874. terminology for aurora includes ; clit + pussy/cunt + folds ✿ terminology for mountain + dew + swiss includes ; cock/dick.

It's not that Aurora didn't believe Cumulus when she mentioned that everyone currently summoned into the Ghost project were all... incredibly intimate with each other. She just-

Well, she wasn't quite expecting this.

She's currently being pushed down face-first into sage green sheets that smells somehow of ashes and cedar wood. The owner of said sheets is currently laid out underneath her, his tongue swirling around her pierced nipple with a malicious grin. Mountain's cock is currently spearing her cunt open. Wide.

He's splitting her open like a saw, and he's barely even moving. The earth's sin is simply purring, content to have Aurora's tits practically smooshed into his own mouth as Swiss shoves her face further against the stain sheets.

The multi ghoul is howling away, his jaw open as his lips are curled into a feral grin. Swiss is panting and spitting out various combinations of both praises and filth as he jackhammers into Aurora's tight asshole. Her tail is in Swiss' nefarious hands, the larger sin showing no signs of hesitation when it comes to tugging her lithe tail in every which direction. The base of her tail is so tingly and sore, and the water's sin can practically feel the way the skin of her ass cheeks vibrates with every slap of Swiss' balls against her cheeks.

"You fuckin'- dickwad!" Dewdrop growls from behind her, his claws furiously trying to find purchase in the bone of her hips and the meat of her spread thighs.

The backs of her thighs burn terribly with Dewdrop's uneven pace, the poor little bastard failing to keep pace with Swiss' rampant thrusting and Mountain's sheer existence. Dewdrop's growling underneath his breath, taking out his thinly veiled frustrations on Aurora's thighs. She can't see the marks, but the little ghoulette knows that she won't be able to sit still for the rest of the week.

Mountain moans against the swollen skin of Aurora's nipple, lifting her top half slightly so that the earth ghoul can turn his attentions to her other nipple. Her keen is choked off when Swiss pushes her head back down against the sweat soaked sheets. He's laying still - with the occasional exceptions of when Mountain decides to switch nipples - and yet, some-fucking-how, his cock is the one that Aurora feels the most intimately as his tapered head brushes against her cervix.

Dewdrop snarls, smacking Swiss' ass from where it's bouncing in front of his face. The slap has Swiss playfully hunching further over Aurora's stretched body, the wide plane of his back completely overshadowing her much tinier vessel.

"Oh, doll," Swiss purrs loudly into her ear, obnoxiously licking over her earlobe, "the little ankle biter's so fucking mean to me-"

"What?!" Dewdrop screeches, and Aurora would normally laugh at the outburst if she didn't have three different cocks burrowed deep inside her. "You absolute asswipe, I can't breed this cunt properly when you're shoving your ass in my goddamn face!"

Swiss twists around to coo at the enraged Dewdrop, which doesn't help diffuse the situation at all. Luckily for Aurora's backside, Swiss' thick knot has stopped bumping against the rim of her asshole, but Dewdrop's tiny little dick is still enough of a stress for her pussy when fucking Mountain's sheathed inside her to the goddamn hilt-

"I dunno, babe." Swiss singsongs, shimmying his hips and laughing loudly when Dewdrop scoffs. "Sounds to me like this foozler's just looking for excuses as to why his pathetic little clit can't fuck some strumpet's cunt properly-"

Dewdrop howls in anger, his claws digging deep into the meat of Aurora's upper thighs, forcefully dragging her hips closer and causing her inner walls to drag over Mountain's girth. His cock jackhammers in and out of Aurora's puffy folds. The blunt head of his cock occasionally catches on her clit ring, but the fire's sin is quick to push himself right back inside with a slap on her bare cunt. He's muttering something underneath his breath, but Aurora can't hope to hear it over the loud cackling coming from Swiss. The multi ghoul's large palms are shoving Aurora further down from her shoulder blades, using the leverage to ram his own fat cock in and out of Aurora's clenching asshole with renewed vigor and a tug on the base of her tail.

The stretch is insane. Utter madness as Aurora has the motivation to do nothing else but release stuttered moans. She's about to call her safeword, maybe scream 'red', or just try to crawl away from the relentless assault on her holes, but then-

Then Mountain's sneaky fingers are playing with her clit.

The earth ghoul's lips have unlatched from Aurora's puffy nipples with a satisfied grin; she can feel the texture of his fangs against her sternum as he peers up at her with lidded eyes.

He tugs on her clitoris, and she screams-

"If your holes aren't gaping by the time I'm done fucking you - no, baby, actually fucking you - then we're gonna flip you over and stuff your holes until you can't clench down on fucking anything, and my cum is gushing out of that sloppy fucking holes of yours, yeah?"

Aurora keens as Swiss' knot is pushed fully inside her asshole.

#i hope this is okay! :d i had a ton of fun with it hehe! <3 #ghost bc #ghost band #ghost #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #mountain ghoul #swiss ghoul #aurora ghoulette #polyamorous ghouls #nameless ghoulettes #nsft #ficlet #ficlet request #ao3 #spoiled writing

[fuck-i-burnt-the-tea]

𝑻𝒐𝒎 𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒂𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ SFW

☆ Takes him FOREVER to make it official with you, but trust me, once he's yours, he's all yours.

☆ He'll try to act all tough around his friends, but you've got him completely wrapped around your finger.

☆ Not super big on PDA, although he does like to keep a hand on you. On your back, around your shoulders, intertwined with your own hand, doesn't matter. He's protective by nature, and it's like a small way to make sure you're safe.

☆ You become best friends with Judy, because of course you do. Penhall teases Tommy (our poor baby) about finally settling down. Ioki's just happy Tom's happy.

☆ I feel like he'll give you some piece of jewelry to "claim you". A necklace, bracelet, anklet, anything. It wouldn't be his name but rather just his initial.

☆ Takes you bowling even if you hate it (spoiler: you don't because he makes it so fun) .

☆ Kissing and making out in the back of his Mustang.

☆ He'd be a very attentive listener with you, and it shows. Talking about your favorite artist/band? He'll listen to a few of their songs, or he'll buy you a CD of said artist/band.

☆ His main love language is definitely acts of service. He will do literally any small thing for you (passes the orange peel theory 1000000%) .

☆ Although it would take a while, he'd eventually indulge in long conversations planning your future together. Kids, house, pets, life goals, EVERYTHING would be discussed.

☆ He's a little hot headed, but he'll try his best to be patient with you.

☆ He's very traditional, not in a gross way, but just in the way that he feels like he should protect and provide for you. He insists on paying on every date, he's opening doors for you, he's respecting your boundaries. Just a pure gentleman with you.

☆ If you have any issues with him in the relationship, he'll listen, validate your feelings, and try to come up with a solution or compromise. He's smart, he's a problem solver, and your issue is typically resolved fairly quickly.

☆ He was the one who made it a rule that you never go to bed angry with each other. If you're simply too exhausted to continue an argument, he'll pull you into his chest, and run his fingers through your hair, instead of just avoiding you.

☆ When you cuddle, he loves spooning you, Easily his favorite cuddling position.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ NSFW

☆ Speaking of positions, his favorite sex position is either missionary or cowgirl. He needs to be able to see your face contort into pleasure.

☆ I don't think he's too vanilla, but I also just don't see him being into harder things like BDSM. He'll get freaky with it. He'll mark you up with hickies, he'll choke you, he'll fuck you so hard you'll be shaking after.

☆ He's a soft dom though. He'll praise you while his cock is buried into your heat, he'll check up on you, make sure you're okay, he'll clean you up after the fact.

☆ This is more fem centered but: Out of tits, thighs, and ass, he's definitely a boob guy mostly. He literally can't keep his hands off your tits, he's such a pervert!! All he wants to do is take a puffy nipple into his mouth, gently swirling and flicking his tongue across the sensitive bud, while his other hand is on your other tit.

☆ He's so good with prepping you, he will literally never fuck you without you being properly lubed up (whether that's by your own arousal, or if he does use lube). He'll finger you, ease you into it, before pushing his cock into you

☆ And if you work with him? It's over for y'all, because he's pulling you away somewhere private to make out with you, gently groping you through your clothes. He's just whispering about how much he missed you, how he couldn't wait, how he needed to touch his pretty little lover.

☆ Honestly, he likes receiving oral more than he likes giving it. But don't misunderstand that as him not wanting to give you head, or that it'll be lousy. No. He's been around the block a few times, he's not stupid, he knows what he's doing. He's skilled with his mouth, and he'll easily pull 2-3 orgasms out of you before he's done.

A/N: I'll update more as more thoughts come to me, but Tommy has had me in an absolute chokehold and I thought I'd share <3 - 🪐

Like what you've read? masterlist

#21 jump street tv show #tom hanson #tom hanson x reader #Spotify

[kremlin]

you know, i don't do the super longform posts like i used to, i mean to say, i don't post them anymore, but i still do write looooong ass walls of text, they don't ever make it to my blog. idk. on re-read they all have a very distinctive, unmistakable smell of "bus stop crazy" to them, and even after fixing all the grammar mistakes & forgotten words & etc they graduate from nutcase scribblings to "manifesto"

all those posts go to pastebin, anonymously, and then on to reddit, which is a huge pain, i have to farm throwaway accounts for like a year, not posting at all, before i can post a pastebin link and not have it be spam filtered, just to gauge how accurate my self-assessment is. it doesn't work because nobody reads it, unlike this blog, where 5-6 people read it.

and even that isn't working due to a wild phenomenon. when you write about niche subjects unappetizing to a normal audience, it only really makes its way to the same freaks that you're already friends with. in my case, these are people i've spoken with at great length solely textually over the internet, for like, twenty fuckin years. it probably wouldn't surprise you to know that they can clock something i've written like eight sentences in. and this sucks, it defeats the purpose of trying to hide my Shame Posts from the world with anonymity, so let me tell you what i did.

i tried just, you know, making a conscious effort to write in the most unkremlin way possible, and the result was indifferentiable than something i wrote normally. like, didn't even fool them any longer than otherwise. sure. fine. i guess that isn't interesting. but i wasn't satisfied.

so i call in an owed favor to a buddy that has zero language skills, like, unless you are speaking to him and standing in front of him, every message, regardless of platform, will read like a business email, signature and all. total dingus. he's like 26 & perpetually on welfare, (like all elite programmers) but writes like he's your dad sending email with that fancy corporate-branded-outlooko client that auto-appends some long ass disclaimer to all your email. anyways, that's besides the point, i gave him something i wrote & asked him to rewrite it in his own voice. no dice. "this sounds like something kremlin wrote but he's doing some kind of joke i don't understand, or maybe he got hit in the head". fuck. so i write a WHOLE new thing, not even solely focused on some niche subject that auto-reduces the potential culprits to like 5 people, and i give his ass the broad strokes of what i wrote and asked him to flesh it out. only a marginal improvement. they still nailed me after just a bit more thinking.

so fuck it. i hit up "Gunther" which i don't have the right keys on my keyboard to type properly, there's two dots over the U. gunther is very clearly a german guy, which you can tell on account of him speaking German, and when you speak to him in english, he's all "wast ist das" and shit. so i try giving HIM the broad strokes and having him re-create it, which was an idea/concept he did not grasp fully or understand on account of us not really sharing a language exactly. guess what. it wasn't immediately recognized, at least, it took about an hour for them to deduce i was the author, and at this point i have given up, i have lost because these increasingly cartoon antics have become my signature, and i will never be able to escape the shame of my Weird Bad Writing. they even figured out it was gunther sort-of-ghostwriting it, since it didn't have the quirks of software translation & was sent using some fucking ISO/IEC charset that europeans prefer over utf-8, at least the ones i talk to, for completely unknown reasons. they try and explain it, and i can't figure out what they're talking about, not because i don't speak french & german but because i don't speak ÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈ

i will never -- and this is a solemn promise -- write in any other way than to bang out the whole thing in 1 hour, never organizing anything, never looking backwards even 2-3 words, never *ever* proofreading (i get someone else to do it for me with explicit instructions to only fix grammar & highlight completely incomprehensible gibberish that they couldn't decipher for my reluctant fixing). i will also never stop posting it.

[easytobetrayyou]

A dazzling guide towards vengeance.

Ch. 3 : A dictator, fascists and a lesbian.

A vi x Reader enemies to lovers

Other chapters

TWs for this chapter: weapons, murdering, blood, explosions, and alcohol use.

As an apology for taking so long, I have posted two chapters at once (both +3k words). That is unusual. Now, forgive me.

This chapter is mostly plot and Violet barely has relevance till the end, so I'd recommend you to re-read chapters 1 and 2 to not get lost. The next chapter, on the other hand, is [spoiler] full of angst and dirty ass fucking smut.  

I apologise once again if there are any grammar mistakes, my first language is not English (and I am half Andalusian, I can't even speak my own language properly)

Enjoy!

Five minutes or so had elapsed when you had finally managed to lose Violet in between the running people. The once bustling streets were being emptied as people fled from the disaster that had struck. Enforcers were ubiquitous in the area, making it difficult for you to continue your search for Powder. You did not have the luxury of time. Patience was not one of your strong suits, and you were determined to find her as soon as possible.

Your father's former soldiers had managed to obtain some information from a snitch, indicating that Powder would be in Piltover that day. Despite their additional intel, you dismissed them quickly. You despised those men and did not want them to think they had helped you more than necessary. You had been circling the streets where the explosion had occurred, following your instincts that somehow connected Powder to the incident.

Your suspicions were confirmed as you stumbled upon a dark, nearly empty street. Empty except for the fact you saw Powder standing just a few feet away from you in the middle of the road with her hands raised as two enforcers threatened to shoot her. "I suggest you and your partners give up and return the technology you have robbed," one of them commanded.

You wondered whether this was pure luck or if some mastermind who wanted this to happen already as much as you do was orchestrating this scenario, and you were just a hot character playing your part. "But I need it for a little project," Powder responded, her voice choked with tears. You knew she was playing with them, and it infuriated you. She raised her hands a little higher.

Her excuses fell on deaf ears, and the female enforcer demanded that she throw down her weapon. "You don't care, I see," Powder said with a sad voice. "Fine..." She hesitated for a moment before slowly lowering her hands. However, in the blink of an eye, she darted to the left, taking down the male officer and using the female one's weapon to eliminate her. She cackled like a maniac as she fired multiple shots at the downed man.

As you made your way towards her, you didn't bother to tread softly. The screams and destruction that permeated that side of Piltover provided enough cover for your approach to go unnoticed.

Finally, you had her in your sights –the girl who had taken your sister's life. But just as you closed in on her, mere centimetres away from her back, you sensed something was amiss.

You were being watched. Someone was closing in on you.

Reacting quickly, you pulled her body forcefully against yours, trapping her arms and relieving her both of her gun and the gun she had wielded just moments before. She didn't even have time to recognize you.

With a swift motion, you raised the weapon and pointed it directly at her head. "Oh, I was having fun!" She complained. 

"Shut up." You groaned, jaw tight. 

As soon as you turned the both of you around, your eyes fell upon five men, standing in a line. Three of them carried leather bags, which led you to believe they were responsible for the catastrophe unfolding in the city.

The leader of the group, a man positioned in the centre, pointed his weapon directly at your head. "I suggest you step back, kid," he warned, his expression blank but his tone conveying his distaste for the way you held Powder at gunpoint.

You had no idea why Powder was involved in this act of terrorism, nor why the apparent leader seemed to be interested in her. But none of that mattered when you made the split-second decision to strike her with the back of the gun.

"Aw, fuck!" Powder exclaimed, before suddenly chuckling. "Never do that again." She managed to straighten her left arm, which had been trapped beneath your grip, and you noticed her hand brushing against something in her pocket.

Reacting quickly, you pushed her away from you, your gun still pointed towards her. Just then, a rope that seemed to send electric shocks came crashing down in front of you. This gave time for Powder to take her gun from your grip, leaving you with the one she had wielded before. You quickly stepped forward through the smoke, but the four men had already closed in on her.

"Oh, damn! She's fast! I'll—I'll just have to perfect it—" The leader ignored Powder'a words as he pushed her behind him, protecting her. The movement drew her attention back to the situation.

He glared at you with hatred, his finger on the trigger as if ready to risk it all. Meanwhile, Powder lifted her gaze and looked directly at you, her stare unwavering.

You knew she recognized you. How could she not recognise someone she spent part of her childhood with, even if it was because you and her older sister shared the same friends? She knew, and so did you. But it was as if something in her didn't quite understand.

She had changed. Her hair was no longer short, but rather a long blue braid that almost reached the floor. She was paler, and there was something in her eyes that you couldn't quite place.

A muscular man came up behind you and tried to take the gun from your grip. It may have worked if your instincts hadn't made you twist his wrist just in time.

The problem was that the man's struggle gave the others time to catch up. As they did, the leader began running towards the exit of the street, holding whatever they had just stolen and looking back at you as if he was sure they would take you down. He kept Powder, who seemed to be angry at you, behind him. You needed to get rid of these men. And you needed to do it fast.

The four men grabbed hold of you, causing the gun you held to fall to the ground with a clatter. You swiftly responded by kneeing the stomach of the redhead who had seized your left arm to punch on a weak point, making him stumble and fall. This gave you the opportunity to crouch down slightly, just as a blond man attempted to strike you. However, in his haste, he ended up hitting one of his own accomplices who stood directly behind.

Taking advantage of the failed attack, you quickly grabbed the blond man's arm and pushed it down, causing him to writhe in agony as you broke it. "Fuck!" he cursed, clearly in pain.

With the blond man temporarily out of commission, you twisted the arm of the man who tried to hold your right arm and positioned him in front of you just as one of the other robbers tried to shoot at you with a peculiar weapon that emitted a shock. Unfortunately for him, his shot ended up hitting his own partner, rendering him unconscious on the ground.

Before the electric weapon could reload, you delivered a hateful punch to the man's throat and twisted his wrist, the weapon falling into your hands. Looking directly at the red-haired man, you extended your arm and fired, sending him collapsing to the ground, just like the rest.

"You little bitch," the blonde man spat as he tried to get up. As the other man caught his breath, he finally stood and quickly approached you from behind. But with a swift step back, you pushed the two remaining men's heads towards each other, causing them to fall to the ground.

While you should have questioned him, you knew that time was of the essence if you were to find Powder on your own. You swiftly used your elbow to connect with his face and followed up with a knee to his genitals, and a punch to his face the moment he crouched in pain. The man was now unconscious, and it would take him some time to recover.

"Bloody hell. You lot are a bunch of clumsy idiots," you remarked as you checked their pockets for any ammunition that the electric weapon you held required.

A voice shouted from an alleyway close to where you stood. "Silco! Stop right there!" You followed.

As you sneaked, you saw the same man as before standing at gunpoint by an enforcer. You sneaked your hand around your thigh for your knife, and you would've gotten it if only Violet hadn't made you throw it on the floor of that Mercedes.

Suddenly, you stopped short before entering.

Silco. "Silco," you whispered to yourself. Silco. 

You already had the name Jinx.  She was, apparently, a psychopath working for another called Silco, but that was not who you came back to Zaun for.

That was it. Silco. The man who planned for the Undercity to stand independent from the "topsiders" control and allow it to be self-sufficient: The newly formed nation of Zaun —if you asked his supporters. The emotionless murderer who takes away innocent people's lives in his way to achieve more and more power —if you asked the ones who hadn't been blinded.

While Piltover had always ruled the Undercity, now known as Zaun, they had never cared about its terrible economic, social, and hunger situations. But this was clearly not the way.

How had no one told you the whole story? Had people just become used to Silco's ways and learned not to get in his business? 

Another voice brought you back to reality before you entered the alley pointing the gun at whoever stood, just staying hidden in the dark.

The alleyway was vast, almost like a battle camp. Barrels were scattered around the ground, creating perfect hiding spots in case of an attack. Powder was nowhere to be seen, and Silco no longer had a bag. She probably had escaped by then.

"So, I'll tell you what we're going to do, officer," Silco said, pronouncing the last word as if he didn't mean it. "You're going to let me reach the vehicle I'm leaving in without warning your partners. If you don't, my soldiers will have a chat with your gorgeous wife and son. How's that?" Silco showed no signs of concern.

"I can't let you go free for this. You murdered him. He was like my brother! He was just a guard! He—" Silco shrugged nonchalantly at his words before he explained, "your little friend was guarding a crucial piece of technology that my dear Jinx needed for a project, and I... well, I knew who he was to you." He smirked with a sense of power, "I thought I could teach you a lesson. You cannot tell me what to do, nor stop me from doing what I want. Remember, you work for me. So, keep your enforcer undercover and obey my orders."

The man trembled, his hand shaking around the gun. His face contorted in shock as he began to lower the gun. Without warning, Silco shot him in the head. The sound echoed down the alleyway and an old woman who seemed not to have fled yet screamed.

Just as Silco tried to exit the alley, you appeared from the dark, pointing the weapon you had robbed one of his soldiers directly at him. "Drop the gun."

Silco taunted you, "Oh, kid, it's not very clever to get close to me by yourself. I get it I've killed someone you cared about, or maybe one of my soldiers has?"

You didn't hesitate to walk closer to him and hit his nose with the back of the weapon, making him bleed. "Shut your fucking dictator ass mouth." You struck him again, "Where is Powder?"

Silco groaned, "You've taken down my soldiers, perhaps I should find smarter ones."

"Maybe you should," you hit his nose again. "Where. Is. Powder?" He groaned again, but pretended to be unaffected. "You'll have to specify a little more."

You furrowed your brows, "She's around 1.75 meters tall, skinny, 18 years old, with a really long bloody blue braid, and paler than a bloody ghost. Oh right —you protected her when I had her at gunpoint."

Silco shook his head slowly. He was trying to say something when a loud vehicle came towards the entrance of the alleyway. It was blinded, but clearly full of people. The co-passenger seat window opened. "Silco! Come on, I'm dying to get this one done!" A girl who had a very similar voice to Powder shouted excitedly. Your ear discerned that four guards had stepped out, their chargers sliding, indicating they were armed.

As soon as they entered the vast alleyway, you trained your weapon on their leader's head. "Bring her to me," you demanded.

The guards exchanged confused glances, pointing their weapons at you. Silco raised his hand, signalling them to lower them. "Might I inquire as to why you are so interested in her?" Silco asked.

"That is none of your goddamn business."

"Well, kid, if you plan on taking her, you'll have to kill me first, which I strongly advise against. Do you know who I am?" You shoved Silco away, causing him to collapse against the alley wall. The guards raised their weapons once again and advanced towards you.

"Lower. Your. Weapons," Silco ordered them once again, groaning.

"Where is Powder?" you repeated slowly, hitting Silco's head once more. Your tone indicated that you wouldn't ask again. His head snapped to the side from the impact. He straightened, his jaw clenched as he spoke. "Her name is Jinx."

"You called?" She appeared, a smirk on her face as she pushed past the guards. You didn't even have time to see the toy she had thrown creating a smokescreen.

Silco disappeared from view, but the noise level suddenly rose.

If only their getaway vehicle hadn't attracted the attention of the Piltover officers, it might have been called a game: Shots rang out everywhere as the smoke cleared. There were physical struggles, complaints, and you could spot people from both bands hiding.

It had only been seconds since you had hidden behind a barrel in the middle of the alley, shooting with the electric shot weapon at anyone who came behind you, and trying to focus on the scene —looking for your objectives. 

Somehow, you spotted Vi. Of course, she had followed the disaster. She was taking down Silco's workers without a weapon, also keeping an eye on the officers. It wasn't like she would ever try to help anyone from Piltover. She also knew that their government would never prosecute an enforcer for killing someone from Zaun —or what used to be the Undercity.

You couldn't deny her expression when she wasn't smirking and pissing you off made her someone you wouldn't want to mess with. She was, in fact, pretty muscular. Her 'Vi' tattoo was covered by blood, her nose bleed right under her piercing.  

Alright, you should have been focusing on the madness in front of you. 

Violet was clearly attempting to reach either Powder or Silco, but both soldiers and enforcers blocked her path. As time passed, more enforcers arrived, and it became one of the largest fights you had ever seen. The number of enforcers far exceeded the number of soldiers. If only had they had the same kind of weapon variety as Silco's workers, the battle would already be over.

You don't know how much time passed, —your nose bled due to a front encounter with a pretty big soldier— but suddenly you were near Jinx, who tried to hit an enforcer who had gotten her against the wall. The enforcer had somehow managed to take her weapon out of her grip and throw it away from her. 

You both were close to the exit. It was your moment to get her and take her out of there with you. You had almost reached her when she managed to take the enforcer down. It was the last step for it to be over.

If only Silco hadn't suddenly shouted across the alley, "Jinx, Code 57! Now!"

"I thought you'd never ask," she whispered under her breath. You were about to stop her hand before she could reach her pocket, but she had already dropped some kind of monkey toy. It moved rapidly in a straight line. She took steps back from you as she looked right into your eyes, and she covered her ears.

The monkey stopped short in the centre of the madness and exploded, killing whoever was in its path. Some kind of tint covered the entire alley, the explosion leaving no doubt that whoever stood near the toy had died. As your ears rang, you tried to push past the smoke to follow Powder, but by the time you were out on the streets and nothing stained your view, she was nowhere to be seen. You had lost her, and the vehicle was gone. You were sure Silco had somehow calculated the time to get away from the centre and surround the wall to leave with her.

You walked down the street, wiping off the blood of your battle scars and trying to avoid the Piltover law. You slightly hoped that Violet was doing the same.

-

Violet was in fact quite all right. She was so fucking great she had managed to take a shower and change clothes —possibly by breaking into some wealthy family's home.

As she greeted you, you looked down to see two things: a half-full rum bottle, and a big blood stain on her clothes. According to the side and place, you could tell it had probably been a knife, "you had time to shower, but not to take care of that?" You pointed towards the wound. Perhaps she wasn't that fine.

"Yeah, well, for some reason it is not easy to find bandages on Piltover. I suppose they don't usually need them," Violet said sarcastically, that smirk of hers back as soon as she looked to your face. "How the fuck did you find me?" you asked.

"Well, it wasn't all that difficult. I ran away from a couple of officers who survived the explosion, and I was extremely thirsty. I only had to enter the first variety store I saw far from the explosion and ask for a 'pretty but rude-looking girl who likely paid by throwing money on the counter and left without saying a word.'" 

"You're so funny," you said under your breath, clearly annoyed, pulling her wrist and taking her with you down the street.

"It's not a joke. Even I said 'goodbye' after getting some water and food," Violet said as she drank from the bottle.

"You didn't steal it, did you?" 

"Of course I did." She scoffed and you furrowed your brows. "Violet, people who work in that kind of shops actually need the money." Your tiredness wasn't letting you think straight. That was not near to be of your concern now: her sister was.

Vi's brows raised before speaking in her defence, "why the hell would I bring money to Piltover? This isn't one of those idiotic—"

You interrupted her once you stopped and let go of her wrist. "Why did those fuckers call your sister Jinx?" you asked.

"You have such a dirty mouth, y'know?"

You hit her shoulder, hard. "Stop it. You know what I'm talking about." Violet shrugged her shoulders in response, but you knew she knew.

"May I—" You let out a dry laugh. "Why was Powder the first person people warned me about when I arrived? Is that why she killed my sister? Did she see her and decide to take her life because— because she's evil now?"

Vi crossed her arms as you waited for her response. She took another sip of rum.

When five seconds passed and she didn't say anything, you decided to walk down another street that hadn't been blocked off after what happened. Apart from the enforcers you were trying to avoid, the streets were empty, as if the inhabitants of that side of Piltover had decided to hide in their enormous vacation homes for a few days. Poor souls.

It had taken multiple arguments on your part, but Violet finally told you the truth about what happened with Powder —or Jinx, now. You also happened to figure out why she was using you: she needed to get rid of Silco to be able to get Powder back. 

The moment she asked for your help, everything changed. You listened as she explained how Silco had changed her, and that she needed her sister back.

"Everyone who knows keeps saying she's not my sister anymore, that she's fucking gone, but—"

"Of course she is your sister. Changing doesn't mean becoming a whole new person —it's the bloody aftermath of trauma, insecurities, and the ideas that Silco bastard put in her head." You realised how comforting your words sounded once you had already told them, so, to not give her the wrong impression, you added, "that same way, nothing has changed for me either. I need her dead, and I need it now." 

Violet let out a dry laugh, resting her weight against a rough brick wall.

"So, if you need my help—"

"I never explicitly said 'help'. It is to your advantage as well. You won't be able to reach my sister if Silco is still in the picture anyways—" she interjected, twirling the gun she had robbed an enforcer with her fingers.

"—When we eliminate Silco and I'm ready to take out Powder, you'll have to allow me to do it."

"When the time comes, Red, we'll see who's stronger." Vi offered you the bottle. 

Unbeknownst to you, your bodies had drawn dangerously close. Your head tilted to the side, struck by a sudden realization. "Deal." You took it. 

Vi's hand grazed your jawline, cleaning the blood from one of your battle wounds with her thumb. Her hand lingered on your neck, drawing you in closer.

You were incredibly tired, everything felt like you were on drugs. You were sure Violet felt the same way. 

You couldn't resist the urge to glance at her lips, looking back at her eyes. The adrenaline of the moment made it impossible for Violet to give you the chance to push her away before her thumb cleaned the dry blood off your wet lips, but you did it either way. 

"By the way: it's anyway, not anyways," you said as you took two steps back, brows raised in knowledge. You turned around and made your way down the street.

Violet whispered something under her break as her smirk returned. She stood where you left her. 

"Come on, I'm healing that wound. If we stay here we're going to be spotted," you spoke loudly as you continued walking.

#arcane #vi arcane #enemies to lovers #jinx arcane #silco arcane #vi smut #vi x reader #smut #league of legends

[billyhargrovesupsidedownshadow]

Okay, I'm making a longer rant (because if there's one thing that triggers my barking response it is fucking language) about how people who have never learned any language shouldn't be allowed to do it because @sepulchrally-handsome enabled me into this

Or How Stranger Things Fucked Up One More Thing

There are three specific I would like to talk about: Robin And The Evil Russians In American Mall, Hopper In Russian Prison, and El Can't Speak Properly

1. Robin And The Evil Russians In American Mall

So okay, you have a tape record of a code in a language you don't know even the alphabet to. First of all, you are so lucky that the sender was speaking this clearly with a good pronunciation and voice, and so fucking slow, and using full words instead of short versions and everything. You are also lucky as hell the recording is that clear and that your player is this good

So Robin hears this tape and manages to write it down using English transcriptions of Russian letters, then reverse them back into Russian letters to find them in the dictionary and translate them into English. She can do that because she know English (native), Spanish, Italian and French, according to the show

A. She know three languages from the same family and a language that is basically an ugly bastard child in its own family. Russian is from a completely different subfamily of Indo-European language family. It has completely different lexicon and grammar system (which is relevant), so none of this knowledge would've helped her, really, only maybe very vaguely to understand that different languages work differently. Learning three fairly closely related languages doesn't exactly show that you can pick up a language easily, it shows that you understood the system of this family, that's it (I know, I learned Dutch after German)

B. She could've figured out the consonants in Russian, but not the vowels. Russian, unlike a lot of Indo-European languages, has an extremely lazy pronunciation system. Unless the vowel is stressed, is in the syllable right before the stressed one, or is in the beginning of a word, it becomes just a sound. It's a sound all vowels become if they are in any other position than I mentioned before. They all become the same. You actually can't tell what letter it is, because in the writing they are all different, but they sound the same

Like молоко - milk - is pronounced roughly like [m'lak`o] which can be spelled малако, мелако, мылако (technically also мулако but there's a small difference) x actually using о as the second vowel. If you don't know the language, it's very hard to figure out which letter to use, which would be crucial in their situation, since they wouldn't be able to find a wrongly spelled letter in the dictionary

C. Russian has something English doesn't, that being inflection. This means the words have endings that change depending on the form it needs to be (like have/has, but basically all the words change). In dictionaries the words are give in their initial form (infinitive for verbs, singular male for all the other words). Without actually knowing how to decline words, you won't be able to figure out their initial form, even if you have a little grammar handbook in the beginning of the dictionary. You need to know the gender of a noun, and you can't always tell by just looking at it. Also, their dictionary is very small, so...¯\_(ツ)_/¯

All of this wouldn't have been an issues if they said she knew Ukrainian or Belarusian. The spelling is different, the pronunciation is different, the grammar is also different, but I still would've been like ehhh she probably could figure it out, she at least knew the alphabet and a lot of roots are the same. Hell, even if she said Polish or something, I would have found it so insane

2. Hopper In Russian Prison

I was willing the guy from Alaska slide (despite the fact that his language was kind of too complex, it's alright, maybe he reads a lot and talks to people who talk in such language a lot), but Dmitri? No

At first I was like hmm how likely it was to find a person who spoke English at all working as a prison guard in Kamchatka in what, 87? But then I figured out that it was actually possible, a lot of schools taught English and not German by then, and because of how USSR worked, there was always a chance to get a good language teacher pretty much anywhere

Okay, so there was a chance that people around Hopper knew some English. They could've been able to establish communication. But do people who don't know any foreign languages actually understand how much it takes to talk well? That it takes even more to understand someone? There's just straight up no way in hell Dimitri would've been able to talk the way he did. He actually uses complex constructions, words and even phraseology that he couldn't have picked up from Hop

You can not actually have a good command of a language without practicing it, reading and writing and talking and listening in it. Language goes away very fast. There was actually no reason for him to practice since school, so his language would've been very basic. To pick up complex phraseology you need to consume content in this language, and that was very much not a thing in USSR

He could've talked to Hop but just a bit better than the way Hop is shown talking in Russian actually, maybe with a few more words. Plus the accent dodjjd like no, he talks way too clearly for most people from general Russian population

AND does anyone even comprehend how hard synchronised translation is? It's impossible to do without prep, and that's what Dmitri was supposed to be doing when Hopper was telling his story to the guys that were supposed to fight the monster. It's freaking impossible, I know, I was trained to do it djdnjd

3. El Can't Speak Properly

This one is actually the one I'm the least sure about, since I'm not actually a specialist in this field, and my friend I discussed this with is just a pediatrician so she has some idea, but just enough to send someone to a specialist if she sees something wrong. Plus this can totally be explained as an individual thing for El and I actually would be totally fine with it, so it's kind of less annoying for me than the first two, but still

Okay, we have s1 El. She can't talk very well. Fine, it's her character, plus if we take that her powers are kind of like controlled epilepsy, then who know what kind of damage she gets and what triggers what, epilepsy is very unclear. It's still kind of weird how she doesn't use pronouns even in situations when she clearly needs them since English is her only language and English needs its pronouns, but okay, maybe she was that isolated

And then season 4 rolls out

And I go))) they just made all of it lose any sense

She is shown to have had fairly free communication with the staff, with other kids, all the other kids speak like normal kids. Henry and Brenner and the guards and the medical personnel are all shown to speak to her like normal. She's around 8 when the whole debacle happens. By then, her language and understanding of her vs the world had to have been developed enough for not to be able regress into actually not knowing pronouns, it's what kids at two learn to do when they are starting to separate themselves form the world, it's a very basic thing. Losing her vocabulary? Okay, but she would've snapped back when they got her out pretty quickly. However the show insists that she still has some trouble with her words , in the present for the show time

There's a chance that it's the consequences of her being the only experiment for a couple of year and them overworking her brain, plus using a lot of power for opening and closing the portals and stuff, or her just having individual language development issues, I'm even ready to take it that she spoke better in the flashbacks because she was projecting her teen self there, but it's never actually stated, so we can't know for sure

Still her understanding probably should've been better I think

I have a master's degree (with honours btw 😘) in this shit, so I'm almost qualified enough to speak about language here, plus due to personal reason I'm intimately familiar with the language situation in USSR. I'm not that good at child development, but these are things that my pediatrician friend and I agreed on

#stranger things #like a really long one<3 #that's definitely a post

[nordic-language-love]

how did you come to decide to move to Japan? from me it seemed so sudden lol. don't get me wrong it's fucking awesome and inspiring you did that, but I experienced it in a way where one week you were just stressed and exited to go to Norway to Bergens test (or what was it called) then started learning Japanese and the next day you were just announcing you moved to Japan :D

In any case I love following this journey of yours. definitely makes me want to take my language learnings more serious because compared to you I can't even say its a hobby lol :D

lots of love to you 💜💚💜💚

Hi there!

Basically when I first started doing my TEFL course I looked into opportunities to teach abroad, and one website mentioned that Japan had a pretty good salary for TEFL teachers (it lied lmao). I'd just got curious about Japanese at that time (this was late 2020). Long story short, I sort of accidentally ended up applying for a job, got accepted, felt like it was meant to be… and turned it down. For reasons that I don't particularly care to discuss on this blog. It sucked, honestly, to the point I ended up going to the therapy for it.

Fast forward to July 2022 and the recruiter got back in touch with me to say Japan was opening its borders and was I still interested in the job. Discussed it with my boyfriend and we came to an agreement, and so this time I accepted it. There was a lot of paperwork and it was a very sensitive subject at home, and I couldn't quite believe it was actually going to happen, so I didn't really want to talk about it much here in case it fell through (although I'm pretty sure I was talking about it as early as September?)

Why Japan? Well… I wanted to experience a new culture, and Japanese culture is pretty damn far from British culture. And one of the things I figured out in therapy is that I'd got to a point in my life where I didn't know who I was or who I was trying to be and I was desperate to just. get some fucking space, frankly. I felt like everyone had expectations of who I was supposed to be and they were all just too much and I felt so lost and hopeless. I couldn't trust anyone - not even myself - because everyone told me everyone else was gaslighting me, manipulating me, trying to make me what they wanted me to be, and that any thoughts I had were some deep-ingrained trauma or an idea someone else had put into my head. Coming to the other side of the world on my own… none of the chains that held me down are long enough to reach me here. I finally feel like I can breathe and grow again. To learn about who I am without other people's expectations or needs weighing upon me. Sure, it didn't have to be Japan, but it was the opportunity I had.

And hey, there's no minimum requirement to say you study language as a hobby! Obviously I have to be serious about learning Japanese given I live here, and I'll never experience the culture properly if I can't speak the language. As for learning Norwegian, it became like, a part of my identity haha. And like I say, I was hugely struggling to figure out who I was, so I clung to it like driftwood in a stormy sea. It was the one thing I could firmly say was me, a part of myself that I discovered and I fostered and nurtured, something that no one had manipulated me into doing, a path I'd chosen to walk because it was what I wanted. So you're comparing your hobby to my lifeline. You study languages as much as and in a way that makes you happy and fulfills your needs!

Thanks for the question! Sorry the answer became an essay 😅

Curious anons get in my ask box!

#i'm still working it out btw #it's a very uncomfortable process that's forcing me to ask a lot of questions #and has a lot to do with why i sometimes spend hours lying face-down on the floor wishing i didn't exist #but i need to go through this. i am healing. i am becoming.

[exozero]

It's here if you ever want to read it. I explain some of myself here, my history, but let me stress that none of it is me justifying or excusing anything, I just can't speak honestly about my own brain in those situations without referring to the events which I was thinking about constantly at that time. They're part of who I am, particularly part of who I was, I hope, but I'm not a domino, and my actions were my own. Above all, I hope sincerely for your health.

I'm realizing in the writing of this how petty all ny mental lineages are, and must seem. I don't know how much detail is appropriate, how much you care to know, since I obviously want to deliver what would be the most helpful, if that's anything at all. I also would like to be liked by you, but know that that is unfair to ask. Whatever my reasons, you were hurt, so I suppose I'm hoping that by just leaving this here, you'll only come upon it if you're curious, and you're free to message me or to never let me know that you've read it, which keeps it as something only you can give value to. I'm really sorry if this missed the mark or seems self-indulgent. Every time I caught myself trying to couch my language in comfortingly ambiguous corpo-type-speak, I tried to go the other way without crucifying myself (unfairly). I tried not to edit it as well.

Hey ,

I read it. I would look once in a while at your blog and your main account, mostly out of a lingering grimy feeling I've discussed in therapy and have not understood fully until now. Our dynamic, even with sex set aside, was exciting and with a (false, unearned) sense of security it felt as if we had this uninterruptable momentum, and I absolutely overly romanticized and let myself explain away actions I'd previously had considered necessitated, at the least, a long conversation with future precautions. I was rash and reckless and did away with the kind of getting-to-know-one-another time I generally find necessary to feel comfortable doing half of what we did so soon, and as the dominant within the dynamic I invited you to place your trust in me and you suffered for it, and for that I will always be sorry. My lack of care was awful and I fucking hate that you were saddled with the pain and confusion which goes along with having such an inconsiderate, uncommunicative partner.

What you've written is one of the most important things I'll ever read. I hated how our last conversation played out, but again figured you'd just never want to hear from me. Maybe that was a selfish shortcut to letting myself forget, though it didn't work.

I'm truly, deeply happy to know how you understand and appreciate yourself, from the inside out, though I hate only reaching this knowledge by seeing I've hurt someone I think so highly of.

You're right, I didn't understand. Over a longer time spent together I'd like to think I would have, with some luck, arrived at these conclusions, been able to be myself and allow you to be yourself fully and honestly, and to have grown more organically, if not while dating then as friends, and in a healthier and more holistic way.

Without a properly human process of un-coupling, where things might naturally arise, all we had was our word, and you said you wanted to be friends – and in a cruel fashion, I took that away from us. Not that it changes the impact of my actions, but I promise it did not come from any sense of dominance, but rather a past experience with someone I'd thought was just a friend. You, of course, did not deserve to be unknowingly linked to someone else's actions, I just didn't believe a joke (that was just a joke) was yet possible for us, and had a very old fear return of having to be on my guard at all times again, if we spent time alone together as friends. It's up to me to recognize and manage those triggers and I absolutely, abjectly failed. You have been nothing but the kindest and most giving person and I assigned to you qualities of the worst person I've ever known, and convinced myself I was doing you a favor by not stringing you along.

Aftercare also meant something utterly different to me, to be touched after sex something I felt (felt, rather than thought. Stupid) everyone needed to be eased into, as I thought I did. I approached it nervously because that was when I felt most vulnerable. When we got high and climbed into bed and you looked down on me and embraced my head and torso it felt wonderful and real, and I felt known in your casual grab of me, but I was also doing all I could to not shove you away. I was in that post-sex headspace despite us only lying, and ------ it's not so important. obviously I should have just asked more often, you always responded so positively, of course. idiot.

I don't have the best memory, but I know I never felt that you needed me, and I have always enjoyed that. I've never deeply enjoyed a person romantically if I felt they needed me, and I'm sorry we didn't establish a bedrock upon that fact first, that fact of mutual self-governance. I'd always felt we were spending time together because we got along, because we had a good time, and meeting your friends was nice because you and they are nice, but I had no other motives in regards to them. I've reread everything and can see how some messages to a friend were overly friendly. I had a limited circle in the city and admittedly spent too much time on instagram. They posted about their mother, mine had recently revealed she'd renewed ties with my abuser. And maybe I didn't make it clear enough that I wasn't dissing anyone's partner, but I had no idea they were dating, thought he was a cool local act since I'd met him briefly that day. Texting isn't talking, so it would have been smarter to apologize instead of just walk it back as I did. I get why, now seeing your view especially, an in the light of it all together, it would seem wrong, and explains why he was so odd when I was shopping a bit ago. Step one in seduction is generally not to insult someone's partner they're clearly head over heels for.

Freshest is the embarrassment of reading back our latest texts and seeing how I let myself go on, even while knowing how poorly I was representing how I truly felt, being short in the face someone trying to understand such basic moments of miscommunication, because... what? I hadn't slept in a day? I'd have had a coffee if I hadn't been loathe to confront a roiling mass of guilt as to how it all had ended. Horrible feeling, knowing you're in the process of allowing another part of your life infect and destroy a relationship with someone far better than decent.

Looking back lately, that has felt like its own singular regret, a last missed chance at communicating sincerely, and I remember the exact moment I chose to become defensive, a consciously destructive impulse. I've never been happier the next day for having chosen that one, but I can't imagine the disappointment and frustration you must have felt.

Nothing about this is satisfying, thanks to my actions, and probably won't ever be. I feel the urge to tell you more and more and more about myself, to make clear I'm not am egomaniac and did deeply care for you, but it's hard to reconcile the internal echoes with external effects, it feels like there's a step missing somewhere between them, and while I want to rectify it I think if I allow this to grow it'll become increasingly useless and unhelpful, self-pitying as well as self-loathing. The only real edits I've made have been to my sob stories, trying to keep my ego out of it. I want to be clear that I'm not at all saying it's all because I was myself hurt in some way... the goal is to be useful, and to be understood, to be usefully understood, understood usefully, but that use is just for you. You know my actions towards you and you know how they impacted you, but i can only imagine the only thing I can possibly do at this point is to give you all of the facts I have that you don't have access to yet, so that you're armed with a fuller behavioral picture of a part of the world which affected you moving forward. It's something I'd have wanted, but I don't think I'd have cared if I'd received this after so long.

I hope I learned something. I hope I was useful.

I'll post this here in the hopes you see it, and keep the account on, but it'll be dead. I don't want you to feel watched in any way – you have a right to your anonymity, and I'll leave you to it.

[diagonal-queen]

dia entirely forgot it was thungo thursday until mayoi reminded her and she dropped everything to watch the ep. here are all her thoughts, live-documented, in chronological order (apologies for this):

NOT RANPO CHILLING LIKE SHIT'S SWEET WHEN THE CAR HE WAS IN JUST FUCKING CRASHED LMAOOOOO

ranpo is so small next to minoura. he's so tiny and cute i just wanna cuddle him sm (and yes i am a little taller than him- height means nothing to me. we all know where the rest of his inches went YKNOW WHAT IM SAYIN YA FEEL ME)

'the police of this nation are idiots' yes minoura you're absolutely correct but consider this: the police of every nation on god's green earth are idiots

isn't it amazing how it was written in this magical reality-bending book that nobody would believe in the agency's innocence and in a couple minutes worth of running his mouth, ranpo just...undid it?? for like hundreds of police officers??? the sheer power of this man

god i forgot just how fucking fantastic this intro is. tbh this is probably my favourite intro of all of them. the colours and imagery and the chaos of it all MWAH (also kishow voice mm)

bones. was this panel too hard to animate properly?? did you read the fucking manga bones?? do you HATE US BONES??????

i could listen to ranpo talk for HOURS. literally hours, in a language i don't even speak, about anything he wanted, for hours, and i wouldn't get bored. his voice just...*kicks feet and giggles*

i missed you tecchou <3 please keep cooking for fukuchi. you're doing great sweaty xx

some loser: 'when do you suppose a life ends?' even bigger loser: 'when it becomes unable to adapt to change' fukuchi on his celestia ludenberg arc ok

IT'S BEEN LIKE ONE FUCKING WEEK AND THE UN IS ALREADY MAKING AN ANTI-TERRORIST GROUP??? THEY'RE FULLY READY TO FIND AND EXECUTE THE AGENCY MEMBERS IN UNDER A WEEK?? THE ICC LEGALLY CAN'T EVEN DETAIN CRIMINALS ON THEIR OWN IRL

i wish people reacted to seeing my posts on their dash the same way that the united nations reacted when fukuchi appeared onstage

congressmen will excuse mass shootings of gay ppl and then have shirtless fukuchi posters hanging above their beds where they half-heartedly fuck their wives and go to sleep before the thought of helping her also cum even crosses their mind

wait. *pauses and zooms in*. WAIT. YOU'RE TEL

YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT

TH

THAT ABRAHAM STOKER WAS THICC?????? THAT HE HAD A DUMPY???? THAT HE HAD SOME JUNK IN THAT TRUNK???? ALL THAT ASS INSIDE THOSE JEANS???? CURSE YOU FUKUCHI OUCHI FOR RIDDING THE WORLD OF BRAM'S CAKES

thinking about it, doesn't the decay of angels sound like a really cool name for an operatic metal band??

fukuchi: *enters room* ranpo: YOOOOOO STEPDAD GUESS WHO'S AN ENEMY OF STATE :DDDDDDD

fukuchi really is like 'you havent changed at all, boy' ranpo is literally eight years older than me. if he's a boy i'm primordial soup

fukuchi also said that ranpo's title of 'excellent detective' is self claimed. the thousands of people whose lives ranpo's probably saved must all be like 'say sike rn'

ranpo trusting fukuchi solely because the president said he trusts him. crying screaming throwing up ranpo GIVE ME ONE CHANCE (that's right guys we're back to this again)

fukuchi thinks he's hot shit cus he can jump high?? well my ocs can also do that fukuchi. sucks to be basic huh

IT'S NOT RANPO'S FAULT HE WAS BORN LATER AND THUS MET FUKUZAWA LATER??????? FUCK OFF FUKUCHI (also i love the way they're sitting they're all so silly mwehehehe)

omg ranpo also commented on the 'boy' thing lmaooo he and i are so good for each other <3 if only he'd give me a chance... </3

i wonder what portion of atsushi's budget goes towards emergency ramune. also imagine someone caring enough about you that they always keep one of your favourite snacks on you in case you get hungry or something. that's so cute i can't <3333

imagine coming up with a complex plan, twelve or so years in the making, to end the world, all because u asked ur friend out like thirty years ago and he said no T-T

fukuchi: *tilts neck* *minecraft skelly noise*

oh atsushi. i know other people won't like me saying this but you're so hot and i want to do the sex with you <3333333

wow bones. you've outdone yourself. this has to be the best fisheye yet- maybe even beating lucy's fisheye for how terrifying it is. i'm genuinely speechless

AKUTAGAWA

omg atsushi's speech on how loneliness is his biggest fear and how much he cares about his loved ones (kinnie moment), and the one thing he needs, truly needs right now is someone to fight alongside him to save all that he has to lose and the world as he knows it, and then akutagawa appears? soulmates. i mean it's not even like this is a surprise to me as someone who read the manga but, like, it's different when i'm watching it. soulmates. soulmates soulmates soulmates

and that's a wrap for tonight's edition of dia's thungo thursdays!! be sure to tune in for next week and see them cry tears of hopelessness and despair!!

#dia's daydreams #i say thungo thursday instead of wungo wednesday #because #what is wednesday to many of you #is often thursday to me #and this is also the case #when new episodes are released #timezones amirite #so thungo thursday it is #this post is so long and dumb im so sorry #if you read all the way to the end #im sorry

[mermaidsirennikita]

following along with your Heated Rivalry re-read. I gotta say, as a non-Russian whose first language is Russian, this author somehow made Ilya's accent believable and somehow sexy (????) on the page. Believe me, I have never found awkward sentence construction and my own accent attractive before this book. never experienced that emotion!!

Yes!!!!

You know, as someone who does not speak any Russian, I think that is totally an uphill battle for authors who want to write Russian-speaking characters--because while I think the Russian accent has become very sexualized in romance (to like, a fetishistic degree, and I say this as someone who loves IAD, wherein half the heroes, including God's favorite idiot Lothaire, are Eastern European and that is! Sometimes! A lot!) a lot of English-speaking audiences in particular are also very familiar with like.. The caricature of the accent and sentence structure when you're speaking English as a native Russian speaker. (English is such a rough fucking language to learn, my sincere sympathies to all that have to do that mental math.) Like, the Ivan Drago (not played by a native Russian speaker, I think) "I must break you/if he dies, he dies" thing, or all the Cold War villains in American war movies. Which Heated Rivalry references, sorta--Ilya mentions feeling like he sounds like a bad movie villain when he speaks English.

Imo, what makes Ilya seem sexy even with all that is that a) he comes off as extremely confident and just totally himself (the fact that he's introduced going "MMMM HAT TRICK? Maybe keep it for the end?" is soooooooo sexy) b) then you get to his POV where you realize his accent/ESL status is a actually huge insecurity for him, which is vulnerable and endears him to the reader even more c) THEN as Shane falls hard, you see that Shane actually is super turned on by the accent and thinks it's beautiful, and even wants to start learning Russian as a way to connect with him.

One of my favorite things about the book is also the thing where, when Ilya is really emotional or overwrought during ~encounters~ with Shane he just can't come up with words in English. It's one of those hints at what he's actually feeling. Like the first BJ scene, where Shane is a total babe in the woods and Ilya tells him to stop, he like... can't properly describe what he's feeling both because I think he's so turned on that his brain can't do the translations... and because he's already so into Shane? That his brain can't handle those feelings and as a protective thing isn't giving him the words to say it. But later, when they're sexting, he still can't grab the words for like "your freckles are breathtaking", because again, he's very overcome, but he comes up with a way to say it anyway lol.

It's just really well done, as is like... most of the stuff in this book, imo.

#romance novel blogging #caro reads heated rivalry #is this my favorite contemporary romance? #MMMM MAYBE #as a sidebar they're also both so low-key kinky lol #shane is obviously into submission at points #but ilya is also like #sitting on the plane fantasizing about how mad shane will be next time they see each other #and how that'll ~spice it up~

[sonnenflamme]

For the fanfic ask: 7, 8, 9 & 34

7 - What element of writing do you struggle with most?

Re-reading my own stuff and trying to find my mistakes. Because I really can‘t focus on it at all. Also the specific part of writing the „transition“ from the intro scene and story and all to the actual smut part.

8 - which character(s) do you find easiest to write?

Sid. Mainly because I headcanon him with ADHD and I often just write him the way I’d act when I wouldn’t mask. Also Jim because I’m awkward as well. I don‘t have to force myself to find ways to respond properly but I can write the way I’d probably misunderstand something etc. And Shawn‘s caring side.

9 - Which character(s) do you find most difficult to write?

I haven‘t tried out all characters yet so I can only guess. But any character that involves a lot of body language and mimic, as I have trouble reading it and describing something that actually means the thing I want it to mean is probably rather difficult. So I’m not sure if I‘d be able to write Craig properly. I also am nervous to write Paul, as he doesn‘t have all that much of a set character, and I don‘t want to do him wrong.

34 - copy and paste an excerpt you‘re particularly fond of.

(Deciding on what I’d use for this was fucking hard. So I’ll give you two examples. Both are from stories of my series with unusual kinks. I didn’t publish any of these (yet)).

The guitarist looked up into those blue eyes he adored so much. His faces froze as well as his whole body as he felt something. He tried to relax again, which didn't work exactly well. One ant was crawling over his thigh and now he started feeling more on his body, crawling  and almost tickling him, over his legs, arms, torso and fuck- goddamned they were starting to get under his loose, grey shorts. Control your-fucking-self, Root. It didn't work at all. And there he was, laying next to the person he loved with a fucking boner because fucking ants were crawling over his skin. Stupid kink.

„Hey, you okay?„ Corey asked with this soft voice Jim could listen to all day. Okay, he could listen to him speaking or screaming or anything all day. But this soft voice, it was just special. The taller guy tried to nod which didn't work well given to him still laying on the ground, so he tried to use words. „Mhm, I'm good." „Doesn't sound convincing to me." The singer stroked along the guitarists torso in a comforting manner and looked him in the hazel eyes, before slowly going down with his gaze. Shit shit shit shit!

(The kink of that is formicophilia, which is sexual pleasure from being crawled on by insects. I‘m of course not 100% sure if that‘s accurate as I don‘t share this kink, but I still quite like how this part of the story came out.)

„Why is it so fucking cold?" Mick asked, shivering and his teeth were chattering. „Because we are standing in the snow. Almost nakedly." Shawn's voice was extremely calm but Mick could clearly see that this was all just a mask, under which he was shaking and trembling and definitely feeling the coldness as much as the guitarist did. „Why did we even agree to that?" „Because we didn't know we were going to loose the bet, Mickael." „Oh my god, I hate you being like that." „Says the man that is currently complaining about it being 'so fucking cold' and 'why we even agreed to this'." Mick didn't know what he should answer to that, at the end, Clown was right. Oh how much he hated it if this old man was in his 'treating him like he was a little child' mood and then him being right. Argh.

„How long do we need to stay outside?" "60 minutes." And Shawn was still speaking with this calm voice. „How long did we do already?" „7 minutes." „Urgh."

„Hey hey hey, Clown! Wait! Where are you going to?" „Over to the bench there to be able to sit down without freezing my balls off." „Can you stop with that stupidly annoyed voice? I was just trying to start a conversation to make the time pass faster!" „You can't make the time pass faster." „I'm not a fucking child, I actually do know that. But it feels like it's passing faster." Mick responded and then started running after Shawn to sit down too.

(I know that I went out of character with Mick in the last part here, but I overall really like the conversation. I also totally think Shawn would be like this and Mick would be annoyed by it. This was the „intro“-scene for my story for psychrophilia , which is getting arousal out of being cold and/or watching others being cold/freezing.)

[foggyparadisecandy]

Sometimes when we have low self-esteem (hello Anxious Attachment style friends!), we can often project our own insecurities on to others ... to the point that we think or feel that THEY think or feel about us ... what we think or feel about ourselves.

That sentence was a bit complicated lol.

Basically, we have a hangup about ourselves. We think our loved ones think the same thing about us.

And our mind will play nasty little tricks when our loved ones say or do something and we will feel "AHA!!! I knew it! They feel that I'm <insert awful thing about ourselves here>."

This is learned behavior. So if you do it, don't judge yourself, ok? Take it in stride and catch it and recognize it.

The reason our minds will do that is because Anxious Attachment style individuals didn't learn to self-regulate so they offload all their emotional processing to their partners.

If I feel bad about myself, I need someone else to make me feel good about myself. This leads to all sorts of desperate behaviors in relationships for external validation, connection, and attention (and more).

And when there is a particular thing we feel about ourselves, by putting that on our partner, we can say "they feel this way, I knew it, I was right all along, I am < insert awful thing about ourselves here>, and they better help me fix it."

This could be anything - feeling someone thinks you are not attractive, feeling that someone thinks you are not fun, feeling that someone thinks you are not smart, whatever ... you get the picture.

The hard, but necessary, solution to this is to learn emotional self-regulation. When you are upset with something, or worried, or afraid, or whatever, you need to learn how to identify that feeling and address it. That's going to take you a lot of work to get through (I'm doing it now myself ... it's not "hard" actually ... just ... exhausting as fuck) and it benefits from (I would say REQUIRES) a trusted third-party - either a therapist, a close friend, or a support group.

Because you weren't taught the way to properly deal with these emotions so how can you fix it alone? Half of what I struggle with in my self-improvement journey is I don't even understand how Secure people think and deal with stuff. It's like being dropped in the middle of a foreign country and being expected to live. I can "kind of" get the idea sometimes but ... it's a foreign language and I can't figure it out way too often.

That's the hard thing. An easy thing to work on to treat the symptom:

Stop telling yourself stories about what other people think or feel.

Example: "They didn't laugh at my joke. They don't think I'm funny. I knew it. I'm boring and they hate me."

Nah. Ask them. "Why didn't you laugh at that joke? That was funny as hell!"

Just ask.

It can be scary as an Anxious Attachment to ask people for things like that. And, yeah, it can look and feel clingy if you do it too often - which is why you need to treat the core wound ideally. But if you catch yourself in misery ... be brave, speak up, and ask. Get clarification.

Maybe they didn't think that particular joke was funny. But maybe they don't know a good joke, right? Maybe it has ZERO to do with you and your relationship.

And maybe ... that person you feel thought you weren't beautiful, actually dreams of you every night and thinks you are a smokeshow.

Ask before you let your subconscious bring you down.

And if it happens ... remember to be kind to yourself. You didn't learn any better.

It's not your fault, but it is your responsibility to improve (if you want to).

I hope this helps.

#self love #self care #On topic #love

[renticat]

WIPED OUT!

I am back and forth I think I am going crazy...

I don't wanna let you down, so promise you won't let me drown.

I don't wanna be alone

I don't wanna be in love, no I want to but it seems that people just have many interpretations of love anyway and mine is not considered as I am an ace. Okay another topic for another day.

This blog is so old. Trust me but I wiped out if for several times, and I almost did it again because I feel I change now and I should just erase all my history and start a new.

But I feel little sad as I don't know, there is some people reading it, even maybe they're just couldn't find me back then. Ugh, is so slow typing on this phone, not to mention the risk of losing it all, I mean sometimes my google just crash and then gone all my writing. Yeah I should just write it on note then copy paste it but back then tumblr is never neat either unless you're doing the writing on the website or app, but the app is huge for my old small phone. 😭

See, I try to make paragraph but the gap is like twice big like the gap of me and him now 😔. Fuck what am I talking about? It's my own fault and yeah I need to take shower instead of rambling about this craziness again.

𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙄 𝙖𝙢 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙?

Yeah, you can't but I keep trying to make you understand and somehow it only made you feel sick about me and now I am sad.

Because I am afraid to lose you, while losing itself sometimes is inevitable. Oh yeah English is not my mother tongue so if this notes sounds stupid to you it probably is. I wish my English writing skill is improving so I can just rant as good as my Indonesian (even though in my Indonesian, I tend to jump from ideas to ideas because there's just too much on my mind; feels like I am exploding and yeah I need to chill) . Fuck I can't chill.—please babe take me away from here, yeah but I am stuck and brokie huhu.

As someone said one or two times talking bout your problem is okay but if you keep ruminating it without looking for the real solution, it'll only makes you go crazy. IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT? IS THIS WHO YOU ARE?

Nope, i don't even know who am I, but I know what I want. Yeah and the upper capital it's something new here because back then I have to type manually big letter for each sentence after period. Gosh, and yeah I sometimes not using commas properly because in Indonesian, if there's conjunction that comes after main clause it's actually not needed; well I tend to write in long manners also like I sm someone who born at 60s. Yeah I wish it will be much easier as text is killing me and I am bad texter.

Cause I know you wanna reach me, but I am a bad texter. No kidding this is the lyrics Bad Texter by Ryan Woods and I kinda dig in to this song too much back then in 2021 as I miss someone who doesn't even miss me back. Isn't that always the case of you Ren? yeah yeah. Like right now I am dying.

Dying for love, but knowing new person is another problem and again I feel bad for lying, saying that everything is OK, when I am NOT OK. I should've done that from the beginning. Fuck. Fuck me. Oh yeah is not that I am vulgar, is just is not my language, so I feel less bad. It's alien to me but not in my Javanese, i don't do that often so I AM SO SORRY. I need to tone down on swearing. LOVE. LOVE ME. HAHAJAA

Writing is fun, is like I can think of what I want to say not like speaking. Yeah I am shy at first but when you already know me, you'll gonna be the one who will embarrassed like how the hell I know this person? I don't know it's full of surprises, congratulations it means i trust you. If I don't speak that much to you, we're not that close (we are though in this blog of mine as I said sooo many freaking things).

Maybe it's because I am hiding for too long now I am going crazy. Well I can't also safely publicly stated my situation right now, right here but goddammit I am too naive and honest that I can't lie for goodness sake. I wish I learnt many things from people whom I talked in the internet, how they're so cunning and crafty with their words even though they never meant it. It's amazing, astonishing and breaking my heart at the same time.

Oh, I don't know I tried to make this blog neat but instead the archive page is fading in one words? The color? Yeah it's strange because I have another tumblr (which I don't open it anymore) but it looks okay. Yeah this one is my favorite because it's the first and back then this theme is available now I can't download it anymore— even though I am planning to just make a new one and save myself time to edit all my past nonsense but I am too old for this. Not tech savvy. 70 years old what do you expect? Hahaha

Old as hell. In this crazy world full of Instagram. I have it back then but then I am bored because I can't afford new outfit or going to cool places. Like people only post their highlight of life and not misery unless it's in form of art that I wish I could draw it out.

Sometimes is like what I am trying to say with all of this things but because in reality I have no spot to be heard as I am already wrong by default it hurts. And I know I don't own explanation to anyone but then I thought love is sharing about everything but then maybe i am mistaken their lust for love.

#Love #wiped out #Mistaken