#(also some people yeah but god forbid women do anything.)

[quietwingsinthesky]

@lazer-screwdriver consider. they can both happen <3

[crowtrobotx]

So I’ve been reading my way through this academic article on the Sn*pewives (obviously not because I enjoy the bad wizard series anymore but because I think there’s actually some interesting explorations of ‘fandom as religion’ out there and this is a perfect example) and damn, this part goes hard.

[bread--quest]

It's 2012 somewhere. Welcome.... to Night Vale Tumblr.

👁️ nvcr-official

Hi guys! I'm Intern Sarah! Excited to be joining you all!

👁️ nvcr-official

To the friends and family of Intern Sarah, she was a good intern and social media manager, and we are sorry to see her go. We will work to find a new intern as soon as possible.

83 notes

🦉 dark-owl-records

CALL OUT POST FOR CECIL PALMER

hes gotten away with shit for too long and im sick of it. tl;dr horrific intern mistreatment with no compensation, mountain denier, homophobic

keep reading

❌ number-one-moonhater Follow

Hey uh. Aren't you a company account? Why are you posting this

🦉 dark-owl-records

L + ratio + god forbid women do anything + your music taste is trash

🙈 seesomethingsaynothing Follow

Isn't Cecil literally gay?

🦉 dark-owl-records

he's homophobic

🪼 jeebyfish Follow

he has a husband...

🦉 dark-owl-records

yeah and he won't fucking shut up about it

2,500 notes

🤫 cecils-private-blog

Carlos hasn't liked any of my woodcarving posts in THREE DAYS!! I'm so scared what if he's going to break up with me :((

👁️ nvcr-official

Cecil he's your husband he's not breaking up with you. also this isn't a private blog you just put private in the url

🤫 cecils-private-blog

HOW DID YOU SEE THIS

4 notes

🏜️ sandeater Follow

tamika flynn spotted in ralph's dairy aisle "slaying" the milk

🦂 scorpiansscuttle Follow

op i know this is a joke but one time i was in the ralphs dairy aisle and there was some butter up on a really high shelf and someone said "don't worry, i'll get it" and i turned around and it was fucking tamika flynn

☁️ average-weather-enjoyer Follow

fake story :/

📚 isurvivedthesummerreadingprogram

No it's true I was there

🚂 traintonowhere Follow

TAMIKA FLYNN??

🏜️ sandeater Follow

what the fuck is happening on my post

8,345 notes

👁️ nvcr-official

can you guys please stop sending cecil weird shit... i don't want to have to explain to my boss what a dilf is

27 notes

🐚 mariella-shella

Hey guys!! Sorry for the lack of posts recently! I entered a hole in the wall and when I got out I realized I didn't know how long I'd been in there, or where I was, or who I am, and I'm not sure that I'm still the person who entered that hole however long ago. Anyway, the normal posting schedule will resume as soon as I remember what my normal posting schedule was, and if I'm still the person who had that posting schedule!

🌪️ sandstorm-gf Follow

omg mariella!!! missed u so much girl glad ur back!

🐚 mariella-shella

i miss me too

42 notes

😎 Anonymous asked: Response to the homophobic allegations?

🎙️ cecilpalmer

Huh??

🎙️ cecilpalmer

@nvcr-official What does this mean? Is it new slang?

👁️ nvcr-official

uhhhh dont worry about it buddy

50 notes

🧤 missy-mittens Follow

hey guys im in quarantine for eating wheat and wheat byproducts uh...send asks?? i might be in here for a while lmaooo

🧤 missy-mittens Follow

oh lights in the sky its been 5 years since i made this post

☁️ glowcloudapologist Follow

how's it going op

🧤 missy-mittens Follow

i miss my family

506 notes

🐚 mariella-shella Follow

hey if anyone remembers anything about the person running this blog can you tell me? trying to recover the fragments of my identity from the void of memory lol

🥔 potato-enthusiast Follow

you were really hot

🐚 mariella-shella Follow

FUCK YEAHHHHHH

89 notes

🦉 a-weird-bird Follow

just a reminder that new residents of east night vale are fully welcome to interact with this blog!!!! you will not be harassed and any hate will be blocked. this blog is safe even if this town isn't sometimes <3

🌻 sunflowergirl Follow

This is so sweet, thank you so much! Just so you know, even though it's officially called East Night Vale now, a lot of people still call it Desert Bluffs! Just thought you might want to know :)

🦉 a-weird-bird Follow

i'm not calling it that sorry

🌻 sunflowergirl Follow

What??? Why??

🦉 a-weird-bird Follow

just kind of sucks. as a name

🌻 sunflowergirl Follow

?????????

170 notes

🐄

⬜️ kentuckymeatshower_deactivated11051983

what does this mean....

🌌 cece-xeze Follow

another great post from huntokar herself

16,683 notes

🚁 helicopters-in-your-area Follow

🌲 little-miss-ectoplasm Follow

you don't like pine cliff? 👻 oo ooo?

👁️ nvcr-official

NIGHT VALE SWEEEEEP

806 notes

😁 the-happy-smiler Follow

Hi everyone!! Since Twitter went down, I figured I'd try my hand at this Tumblr thing! I'm so excited to meet all of you!! Hope you're ready for some pictures of CENTIPEDES!! Feel free to AMA about the Smiling God!

👁️ nvcr-official

I

🦉 dark-owl-records

N

🎙️ cecilpalmer

T

📚 isurvivedthesummerreadingprogram

E

🙈 seesomethingsaynothing Follow

R

🚂 traintonowhere Follow

L

🦉 a-weird-bird Follow

O

🌌 cece-xeze Follow

P

🐚 mariella-shella Follow

E

🚁 helicopters-in-your-area Follow

R

21,983 notes

[ccrites]

chokehold

listen, I've had this idea in my wips for a while (since the begnining of the year actually) and the fat reader worms have been wiggling in third gear with all the awesome stuff early ( @391780 ) has been putting out lately. So have 6.4k words of Soap being an absolute pussy eating freak but you know you love him

(also on ao3 if you prefer the formatting there, or if you want to drop a kudo)

.

The second the doors swing back closed behind you, you start feeling the scratchy feeling of doubt at the back of your throat.

It was predictable, really.

A small gym in a small town, heads turn when the hinges creak, not because they’re staring at you specifically, but because it’s a reflex.

Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself to keep the scratchy feeling from turning sour in your mouth. Or make you throw up from embarrassment.

Perhaps your New Year’s resolution should’ve been to start on a home gym type of situation. Buy yourself some girly weights, a mat, and some sort of stepping device, and do those easy exercises every slim, pretty, high-ponytailed YouTube instructor seemed to preconize people out of shape do. Like a hamster on a wheel inside their cage. A rat chasing its own tail, maybe.

No, you promised yourself no more fake promises. Perhaps the money spent on the gym membership (stupid fucking New Year’s promotion) would motivate you to use it, lest it’s just money down the drain. 

You wore the stretchiest, thickest pair of black leggings you owned, hoping no one would see the terrible shape of your underwear through it. On the opposite spectrum of things, you knew the largest hoodie you owned would smother you and make you boil with sweat, so you chose the next best thing: the widest black t-shirt you owned. It was definitely not black enough, the dye faded into a dark gray from use over the years, but it was the only thing that camouflaged your body enough from the others’ sight. God forbid they imagine what your body actually looks like underneath.

The heads pretty quickly turned back around as you started walking towards the empty treadmills. It couldn’t have been more than a second, but the combined weight of at least a dozen pairs of scrutinizing eyes would’ve been enough to make you turn on your heels and back to your car, fuck the membership price.

At the very least, you could convince yourself that walking in place (no better than a hamster on its wheel but oh well) would be enough to get you started. Baby steps, and all.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize the treadmill fucking sucks. Why would anyone suggest looking at a parking lot while suffering instead of the pretty scenery of a park or forest (while also suffering, but still).

The timer you’d set for the warm-up (ten minutes, just like the pretty blonde coach suggested!) crawls by way too slowly for your taste. You’d be all but whooping with joy when it beeps if you weren’t so out of breath and conscious of a gaze on you.

You’d seen him as soon as you walked in.

Between figures of balding men trying to get rid of their beer gut with abs, two thin women whispering to themselves in a corner while trying to look inconspicuous, and a few other, completely average-looking men and women, there he stands, eyes meeting yours in the mirror as he deadlifts an impressive amount of black plates.

He immediately looks straight ahead, correcting his stance, as if there were anything to be corrected, in your unathletic opinion. The muscles in his arms bulge even through the thin, grey hoodie, and the ones in his legs coil tight as the weight is lifted off the ground in a slow, controlled motion. Not even a grunt escapes his lips, at least no one you could hear from where you stood, completely mesmerized.

There was always something almost unappealing about overly muscled men. Their wife’s not feedin’ ‘em enough, your granny would grumble when passing by the rows of magazines at the checkout of the supermarket. 

Yet this man.

Yeah, he was muscled. But in a way, he looked… almost normal. Like he was built for strength, not necessarily vanity. Each bend of his legs, each twist of his arms…

You’d swoon if you hadn’t lowered your standards so low he’d trip on them. Accepted it a long time ago. Fats belong with fats, thins with thins, and if there’s a thin with a fat, either one’s getting fattened up, or the other’s getting dumped. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, and one you’d rather not be a part of.

You walk with shaky legs to the water dispenser, then get ready to grab the second to lightest weights to try some bicep curls.

You try to remember the positioning from the videos. Rotate in… or out? Should the wrists be like this? You go through ten repetitions on each side, before you think that you should’ve gone for the abs straight away. God knows there’s fat to burn there, and that the flab under your arms can wait.

You turn back from the rack and walk straight into a wall.

No, a chest.

Fuck.

“Sorry there, miss,” says a deep voice. You detect some sort of accent, unable to quite place it right away.

Your eyes run up, instinctively stopping for a second at chest level (holy heavens that’s a Chest with a capital C if you’ve ever seen one) before finally meeting that same pair of eyes you met a few minutes ago, through the mirror.

Double fuck.

“S-sorry, it’s me, wasn’t watching,” you stammer out, gesturing to the weights in a panicked way. “Just, y’know, switching exercises,” you sputter with a nervous laugh, like it was a completely normal thing to switch exercises after one rep.

He chuckles, and you really need to start planning your escape, because holy shit the way his pectorals rise and fall as his chest puffs up is getting a bit too much for your poor little humiliated self to handle, but he doesn’t let you as he speaks in a soft tone.

“I’m getting arms aren’t really your thing, eh?” he asks, not unkindly. Gosh, did it have to be a Scottish accent?

You can’t meet his eyes, they’re too blue, too piercing for your liking. “To be fair I don’t know what’s my thing yet, I’m just starting out, y’know?” you shift your weight on your legs, conscious of the size difference, and not in the way you wanted to be. Your neck is very warm all of a sudden.

He laughs again, like it’s the funniest thing in the world, and you almost want the floor to open up and swallow you whole, but the words that come out of his mouth are completely unexpected.

“Figured! A girl with thighs like yours, I’m sure you can deadlift more than me with just a lil’ training. I’m Johnny, by the way,” he adds in passing, as if offering his name is the least of his concerns. “You ever got someone to train you?”

You’re entirely unsure if you’re dreaming or not. Did this Scottish hunk of muscle really just offer to be your personal trainer?

“Never - uh… lifted anything, I guess. Just when moving, my couch and bed and all, but I had a friend help me.” You definitely feel like you’re oversharing and you’re struggling to ignore the weight of the gaze of the two thin women, burning through you as they whisper among themselves, when you realize you hadn't answered the second part. “Oh and, uh– no. I’ve never… trained. Been trained. It’s my first time in a gym since- a while. I don’t want to bother you.”

You finally look up at him, and you’re unable to read his expression. There’s a sort of curiosity, a fascination, that blends fast into a wide-eyed joy that’s so open, so sincere that it makes your head spin as he gently but firmly grabs your wrist and pulls you where his bar stands on the thick mat, ignoring your sputtering protests. “Not a bother at all, lass!” He lets go of you as he bends down and effortlessly racks the barbell, starting to remove plates as he continues. “We can start by measuring your max lift, then the one where you can easily do three reps, then we’ll hike it up till failure, so I can calculate your starting training weight!” he rambles on excitedly. You nervously shift on your feet, conscious of more curious gazes on you, but then he’s back in your bubble, pulling your attention towards him like a magnet.

His smile is like a blazing sun, and you don’t have the heart to tell him to prepare for disappointment.

He’s infinitely patient as he shows you how to place your feet, and the angle of your hips (oh, how you feel your knee weaken at the feel of his light tough through the leggings, nothing short of electrifying, despite being perfectly friendly), the hold on the bar. It’s all a blur till you find yourself bent over in front of him, looking in the mirror at your position and trying not to feel conscious of the way he’s placed behind you. Or let your mind wander in inappropriate places.

“Whenever yer ready, hen.”

You brace yourself, close your eyes for a brief second, wondering how the hell you’d landed on this planet, then breathe in, open your eyes-

The weight is in your hands. Not on the floor. You’re holding it.

You almost drop it when he cheers behind you, warm palms rubbing down from your shoulders to your elbows and back up. “Easy! I told you you’d be a natural! ‘S all in the legs and you’ve got awesome legs, bonnie! Let’s add twenty more.”

It’s a blur of racking and de-racking and lifting once and setting back, and redoing it again and again. You’re out of breath, sweating like a sinner in church, but you’re smiling along with him, finding yourself giving him double high fives, and doing small, excited jumps.

“Next one’s exactly my weight, if y’can lift that, I’ll be losing my bloody mind! D’you realize how well yer doin’ for a first-timer?” He says as he bends next to you, adjusting the bar for the next set of weights. With a wipe of his forearm over his forehead, he crouches slightly down, placing his head right above your shoulder and looking your reflection in the mirror straight in the eyes with a conspiratory grin. “Swear to God, if ye can lift it off the ground, I’m buying you the most expensive drink at the bar next door!” he says, grin blending into a blinding smile, too genuine for your own good.

He’s just friendly, just friendly, just friendly, you say to yourself like a mantra as you position yourself. He stands again to his full height behind you, hands ready under the bar, a safenet.

Deep breath in– hold it…

Slowly but surely, you lift the weight off the floor, your ears ringing from the effort. You see his lips move as he cheers you on, but the blood pumping in your eardrums makes it impossible to hear him. Suddenly, the weight is back on the ground and your feet are off the floor as you’re lifted in a tight embrace and spun around like you weigh nothing.

You yelp and flail but he’s holding you tight, face pressed smack-dab in the middle of your chest, between your tits, rumbling praises about your prowess while you’re trying to figure out whether this can be something that your brain is capable of summoning as a dream.

“Put me down, Johnny, oh my God, put me down!”

He thankfully complies but not before squeezing your ass tighter, and suddenly nothing feels real anymore.

“Jesus, I knew ye were perfect,” he says, pulling back reluctantly to rerack the bar and put back the weights. “I cannot wait to properly start training ye’ tomorrow, but for now, I have a promise ta’ keep, and, uh, let’s just say I wouldn’t mind using those strong thighs as earmuffs with this freezin’ weather. On the way back from the bar, what d’ya say?” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows with a crooked smile that lets you know he’s joking around. (Is he?)

You laugh with him and for a second, you forget what you were here for.

+++

The way to the bar is short. It was just a block away (Good for business, he jokes), but the conversation with Johnny made time really fly by. 

He seems genuinely glad when you tell him you’d decided to head to the gym not just as a New Year’s resolution, but trying to simply become a better you. There’s no condescendence, no talking down, no (God forbid) pity, just an overall nice interaction the whole time. He tells you about being on leave as a soldier (Medical leave, he specifies, a fucked up knee can work in a gym, but it’s a different story out in the field), you tell him about your studies and how that led into a “big girl” job that left you no time for yourself.

“But I’ve always been a big girl,” you feel the need to justify. “Just… gotten bigger as I stopped finding time to move. The desk and the laptop are pretty stationary,” you joke, still trying to make sense of why a man like him (broad, and tall, and strong, and… gosh, just perfect-looking) would even deign to accept being seen with you.

(It’s not a date, you dumbass)

“I happen to like big girls,” is what you don’t expect him to say.

Wait, what?

His blue eyes glue you to your seat, and you respond dumbly. “What?”

“I mean, why do you think I’d offer to train you?” he continues, placing his hand, big and warm over your thigh. It’s squished as you sit, wide and flattened in your seat, yet his hand covers a good amount, almost covering the whole width.

Your brain is short-circuiting but you have to answer something.

“Out of– uh… out of niceness?” you stammer out, feeling your insecurities climb back out of the hole they’d been sleeping in all this time, making you shrink even more, trying to cover yourself as if he didn’t see right through you with that piercing gaze. “To feel good seeing you be the reason I lose weight?”

He chuckles, squeezing your thigh as his head hangs down, almost as if to hide the smile that spreads on his lips.

“Strength training doesn’t work like that, bonnie.” He looks back up, and his eyes are blue, and wide, and so pretty, that you can’t find anything to argue back. “Ye’ think building glutes underneath that fat arse does anything but make it bigger?” He shifts, inching closer as he licks his lips and drops his voice lower. “Ye’ think growing your quads will make this,” he gives an even firmer squeeze, wiggling the fat back and forth, and you tense under his grip, but he’s got you pinned down, “any less wide and soft?”

He presses closer, and the booth has no escape room, you’re practically squeezed into the corner as he pushes his body against yours, bending to whisper lowly in the crook of your neck.

“I did not joke when I said I want yer pretty thighs wrapped tight around my head.”

You can’t be blamed when you don’t remember how you ended up in the back of a cab, Johnny barely taking the time to bark an address to the poor driver and throw fifty quid on the front seat before kissing you absolutely senseless, shamelessly groping your tits with a hand and wrapping the other around your thigh, squeezing you close.

You should probably think more about going home with basically a stranger, no matter how hot, but when he presses his entire palm against your cunt, cupping it over the quickly dampening pair of leggings that didn’t seem so thick anymore, you can’t think at all. He swallows your quiet moans, and hums contently against your lips, taking each gasp for air as an invitation to slither his tongue into your mouth. God, you’d forgotten what a good makeout session was like, and you can’t even find it in you to be embarrassed when you see the cabbie’s eyes in the rearview mirror, instantly looking away when you see him staring. 

Johnny doesn’t seem to mind either, and when he notices you looking in the front again and again, he crowds you against the door behind the driver with a huff, half-climbing over you until his knee is pressed against your core, and the only thing in your field of vision is him.

“Johnny,” you try to say, but it’s getting hard to think, with the way you’re being squeezed in a corner, this hunk of a man of pure muscle pressing against you like a weighted blanket, kissing you like you were a drop of water in the desert and he was a parched man drinking you for his salvation. You feel his excitement pressed against your thigh, and it gives you enough lucidity to try again. “Johnny,” you gasp out again, “aren’t we going a little fast?”

He laughs instead, choosing to focus on the side of your mouth, pressing fervent little kisses down your neck before starting to suckle the delicate skin over where your clavicle is. “I can go as slow as you’d like, bun.” He takes the spot an inch next to the previous one into his mouth and sucks again, this time more forcefully, marking you, and oh God you’re going to have to conceal it before work tomorrow, unless you can find a turtleneck to wear–

The cab driver clears his throat, and you notice that the car is stopped in front of a small apartment complex. Johnny says a cordial thanks as he pulls you out of the car and throws another twenty on the backseat, before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and taking all of the thinking out of the equation as he walks you to the entry.

His flat is pretty well furnished, all things considered, but he doesn’t give you enough time to observe the deco as he presses you against the door and slides his hand under your leggings.

“Got me starin’ at that ass the second you walked in, best fuckin’ thing I’ve seen in months, d’ye realize that, bonnie?” he breathes out against your ear as his entire palm cups your sex, and you can only whine as you press your forehead into the crook of his neck. “And by how wet this pussy is, I think you liked starin’ at me, too.”

“You are–” you say, but he curls his middle finger in, spreading your lips and spreading the wetness to your clit, making you choke on your words, “-very nice to stare at.”

“Yeah?” you hear the grin in his voice.

“Mmhm,” you nod, as he keeps the back and forth of his finger, never dipping in too far, just keeping you hungry for more.

“Then how’d ye like to stare down at me as I taste this wet cunt of yours?” he purrs in your ear as he stops moving completely, letting the words process.

Brain.exe has stopped functioning. 

Had you ever had a boyfriend willing to speak filth like that to you when you were down to do the deed, maybe you would’ve gotten enough practice to know what to answer something sensible and intelligible to that, but as it stands, all you can muster is a very dumb-sounding “Huh?” as you stare back at him.

And that, apparently, is the funniest thing in the world to him, because he dips his head down and laughs, almost like a boyish giggle. Not only does that not stop him from kneeling in front of you, but it also somehow gives him more confidence to keep talking like that.

“How about you look down into my eyes as I eat out your pretty little pussy and make you come around my tongue, how’s that sound?” His baby blues bear no trace of maliciousness, no trace of a joke, as his fingers hook around the waistband and trace it around your stomach. You have to make a very conscious effort not to suck it in immediately in preparation for the letdown, but he doesn’t pull them down yet, only moving his hand alongside the edge. Your silence as you try to process what is happening only seems to spur him on instead. “In fact, how about you close your eyes, I close mine, and you hold my head close as I devour you, would you let me do that, pretty girl?”

“I’m not-” you can’t think of any way to properly let him down, not when he looks up with such pleading eyes, so the words stumble out gracelessly. “I’m sweaty, you don’t wanna–”

But he interrupts as he pulls your leg closer by gripping your thigh and squishing it against his cheek “But I do.” He inhales deeply, and your own breath shakes at the sight of how blissed out he already looks. “God, I want it. Let me have this.”

A voice somewhere inside yells at you that this has to be some sort of weird fetish, and that he most certainly won’t be having the same aura of desperation around him tomorrow, when post-coital rationale shows up and he sees your body past the veil of lust, but for now, you think that getting some with Johnny cannot be that bad compared to any one of your past encounters. Might as well enjoy it when you still can.

You wrap your hand around the one he still has around your waistband, and see his face positively light up as you softly caress his cheek.

In the end, you’re the one that pleads.

“Johnny, please.”

Your pants are off you and your leg is over his shoulder before you realize what is happening.

The feel of his warm tongue against your slit makes any thought, any doubt, any fear positively vanish, and the content sigh that he lets out as he licks at you is the same sigh as finally removing a bra at the end of a long day, it’s the sigh of laying down carelessly onto a soft bed after standing up for hours, it’s the sigh of the first bite of the best meal a man has after starving for weeks.

It should be awkward the way his arm wraps around your thigh and sinks into the softness of your stomach, using it to pin you up as he uses his other hand to spread you out enough for him to work his jaw the same way he did when he was making out with you in the car… Yet it’s not. It’s natural, the way his hand squeezes you as he licks, and sucks, and kisses around your pussy, unhurried yet passionate, languidly but firmly, pressing his tongue in, licking around your lips, and maddeningly avoiding the place you wanted him to touch most.

“Johnny,” you moan as he grazes his teeth around your sensitive nub in response. You almost buck out of his hold, but he’s firmly keeping you in place. “Please, don’t tease.”

He hums in response and dives back in, eyes fluttering closed as he ignores your whines. Every time his tongue or lips graze your clit, he works his mouth the opposite way, holding your thigh harder and pressing his palm up as he counters your hip movements with a clever swipe of the tongue. It’s absolutely maddening. “Johnny, please!”

He chuckles as he pulls back, an obscene string of spit lengthening as he pulls back, only breaking when he runs his tongue against his reddened, swollen lips. “Thought ye’ wanted me ta’ go slow, bun.” His eyes sparkle with challenge, but you can also discern a veil of unhidden desperation, of waiting for you to give the go-ahead for him to let loose.

“I’m fine with faster–” you start, but the words dissolve into a barely restrained moan as he hikes your leg up more, getting you closer to him, and immediately singling onto your neglected clit.

His forehead rests onto your belly now, and if you had more than two functioning neurons you’d wonder how he is that he’s breathing, but his hums and moans let you know that he’s perfectly content burrowing his nose in your pussy, nudging at your clit with the tip of it as he licks you with all the dedication you’ve never been shown from a man of his caliber.

He builds it up, and soothes it down, knowing exactly when to put more pressure, or when to teasingly swirl his tongue around your entrance, or to lave broad strokes of his tongue, so much so that the knee that’s not hooked over his shoulder almost gives out on a particularly forceful suck of your clit.

“Easy there,” he groans almost petulantly, as if you’re interrupting him. “Can’t have you fallin’ over when I’m not done wit’ ye.”

“My legs are gonna give out,” you say honestly, trying to catch your breath and avoid having the perfect man at your feet steal it again. “You’re a bit too good at this.” He grins up at you, “Am I?” and you want to give you a playful swat, but instead decide on carding your fingers through his now disheveled mohawk. “Guess the mess on my face speaks for itself… Shall we take this to the bedroom?”

You throw a glance around the apartment, assessing your options. “Couch is closer.” His smile is blinding. “I like how ye’ think.”

It’s now the second time he surprises you by scooping your legs from under you and picking you up like he couldn’t wait any longer and that carrying you bridal-style was the only way he could think of moving you. You yelp out a protest but he swallows it with another hungry kiss, shamelessly smearing your own wetness over your cheek as he walks you both to the couch.

You sink into the cushions where he places you gently without so much as a grunt of effort, and oh God, there they are, the standards are rising.

You reach over to pull him closer as he straightens up, but he only gives you a peck on the lips in return, like he hadn’t been kissing you sloppily the entire time.

“Come back,” you whine, hoping you can get it done before he comes back to his senses, like they all do, but he just smiles and kneels between your feet, hands pressing your thighs apart. The squelch of your lips parting should be embarrassing were he not looking up at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, eyes full of adoration, like a child staring up at the full moon on full display on a clear night’s skies. Maybe you are his moon, his goddess, judging by the lust-clouded look directed at you.

“I did say I was gonna make you come on my face,” he says lowly, the gravel in his voice making you squirm as he places a trail of kisses up your thigh. “And I intend to keep that promise.”

With that, he dives in again, using his forearms to pin your legs open on the couch and his fingers to tease around where his tongue can’t reach. You mewl when you feel his tongue at your entrance, circling it around it briefly before delving in as deep as he could, his right hand stroking your clit rhythmically. The fact that he’s so good at somehow playing all your buttons like a maestro directing an orchestra has you thinking that he must be some sort of womanizer, some freak who does this kind of thing every night, but then his lips wrap around your nub and he gives a firm, long suck, and any restriction that you could’ve conjured up simply vanishes. Your thighs want to close around his head, but you can’t move under the iron grip he has on you.

You fist his hair more forcefully than necessary, and he looks up, wet eyelashes framing his beautiful eyes as he hums in response.

“Please,” you moan, and he hums affirmatively again, closing his eyes to focus on licking and suckling harder. He heard you, he simply doesn’t seem to care. “Johnny.”

“What,” he asks, voice muffled and why is this so hot? 

“I need… I need,” you whine, unable to string the words together, and desperately trying to buck your hips under him, for lack of strength to actually close your thighs how you want to.

That seems to get his attention, and he chuckles, before pulling back with a gentle kiss on your mound. “Guess you’ll have to keep tryin’, pet,” he sussurs, a condescending pat on your thighs before he dives in slower than before.

Oh, the absolute asshole. Now he wants you to work for it?

You think that doing the opposite, relaxing your thighs open and letting him go to town however he wanted would help, but he seems hell-bent on riling you up every once in a while, getting you closer and closer with each lave of his tongue over your poor, overstimulated clit, but never enough to actually push you over the edge.

After what seems like an eternity, and almost, almost starting to think that this was a mistake, halfway ready to let him do this thing before your hip starts to cramp up, you feel a finger nudge at your entrance.

“Fucking finally–” you start, ready to curse him out, but he’s faster than you can think in your blissed-out state, and he slides a second finger alongside the first one, immediately zeroing in on that spot that makes you go cross-eyed and buck under his hold.

“Thassit– there you go, pretty girl,” he murmurs against your clit, and oh, okay, maybe you were closer than you thought, because the rhythmic curl of his fingers doesn’t need to last long before you’re off like an arrow, back arching and thighs squeezing, coming harder than you ever thought was possible. If he were any less skilled at making you completely lose the ability to think, you’d maybe notice that you’d managed to close your thighs almost completely around his head, but he wasn’t, so you don’t, twitching helplessly in the aftershocks of the most wonderful orgasm a man had ever given you.

Limbs that somehow still belong to your body hang uselessly off the side of the couch, and you struggle to catch your breath. You blink lazily, noticing him smugly wipe his face with the back of his hand, his half lidded eyes not any less blissed-out than yours. 

You didn’t believe a man like this ever existed, until now. It aches that this might not be something that would last, so you make grabby hands at him, unable to find the will to speak just yet. 

He laughs softly and gently grabs your arms, kissing from your knuckles slowly up your arm, to the crook of your neck. The patience he has is almost inhuman, as he takes the time to let you regather your senses, matching the marks he made earlier on the other side of your neck. You cup your hand around his head in response, and he smiles at you.

“Ye’ with me, bun?”

“Mmhm.”

“That slow enough fer’ ye’?” He holds himself up, an inch fron your face, and you reach up to kiss him.

“I’m gonna kill you dead,” you mutter against his lips, and he chuckles.

“Let me at least fuck you properly, first,” he whispers, and you notice that he’s long since unbuttoned his pants. You barely get a view of the massive size of him over your belly as he holds himself in his hand, large palm not enough to cover the whole length of him as he strokes himself, angled in such way that his tip rubs against your clit on each downstroke. The word “Please,” is not even halfway out of your mouth when he sinks into you in one swift motion, the rest dissolving into a long, drawn-out moan.

“Fuck-” he grunts, “so tight, cannot believe it.”

He guides one of your legs to wrap around him, keeping it flush against his body with his elbow as his palm grips your ass tightly, the other holding him against the backrest, forearm near your head as he pulls you closer for a sloppy kiss as he starts rolling his hips. You moan into his mouth and he swallows them greedily, leveraging each trust of his hips with a pull with his hand, helping you move in tandem with him, readjusting when your thigh threatens to slip out of his hold. The slaps of his pelvis to yours should sound obscene, his hard muscles hitting against your soft, jiggly skin, but his groans into your mouth are like music to your ears, the fact that he’s vocal about it has you almost reaching your peak again in no time, but he seems to sense it, and slows down immediately.

You try to kiss him harder, but he makes a small noise of protest, muttering something that sounds vaguely like “no, let me, let me just–” and you want to ask what he wants to do, to help him, but he instead reaches down both hands to grab your hips and pull you off the backrest. You yelp as your ass suddenly hangs in the air, his cock speared inside you the only secure point as he pulls you halfway off the couch, but he directs you firmly, “Here, around me,” helping you wrap your legs tightly as he starts thrusting again, harder than before.

“Oh, God, oh God,” you flail around, but each thrust in pushes your back into the cushions, and he reaches behind his back to hold your feet in his hand as he presses his palm near your head for support, spewing more filth as he does.

“That’s it, hold me tight, squeeze my cock like ye’ almost squeezed mah heid off earlier, huh, bonnie? Show me what those thighs can do, fuck-”

Your whole body is jiggling with each thrust, and you don’t have it in you to even feel self-conscious with the way each time he fills you, the tip of his cock nudges against the spongey spot inside, making you mewl in tempo with his relentless rhythm.

“Johnny, Johnny,” you moan, and he bends over to kiss you again, swallowing his name like communion while you chant it like a prayer.

“Don’t give up now, bonnie, keep squeezin’, fuck, I can feel ye’, yer so close.”

You try to get some leverage with your upper body, trying to push yourself up the cushions, but his cock suddenly slips out of you as your thighs almost give out, and an apology is already halfway out your mouth when he kneels back down and burrows between your legs, tongue first with a rushed “Need ta’ taste us, fuck, both of us, together-”

One hand wraps around your hip and over your pelvis, reaching up to knead desperately at your stomach, to pull you closer or push you away, you can’t tell, the other pulling your lips apart to settle his entire lower face against your pussy firmly– before letting go as he starts humming.

Your thighs are free to squeeze around his ears, and he nods encouragingly as he keeps licking, and then you hear it: the sounds of wet stroking. You don’t see him fisting his cock, but you hear it, fast and desperate. As your hand tangles in his hair to pull him closer, and another hum– no, another moan vibrates through your core, it’s the last thing you hear before you’re absolutely gone, gasping out a curse as you tense up in his hold, trembling as you come.

It’s even more intense than the first one, and as you buck out of his hold, he stands up shakily, his hand moving faster and faster around his cock, the angry red of his tip at the same level as your face. You gesture for him to sit down, trying to signal to him that you want to reciprocate despite the post-orgasmic haze and exhaustion, but he shakes his head, and, seconds later, you feel warm wetness land on your belly and slowly trickle down as he moans your name when he comes.

You feel like you still have to give something back, and, when he slumps down next to you with a content sigh, you climb over to place a delicate kiss on the tip of his cock, letting out a huff of laughter when it twitches under your touch.

“Ye’ absolute menace,” he whispers fondly as he pulls you up and tips his body to the side to lie down, using his legs to push you up halfway over him, trapping you between his body and the cushions, yet protectively shielding you from falling over. You place another kiss on his stomach, and you see his abs tense under your touch as your warm breath moves his hairs as you hover for a second, before deciding to shift up and use his pectorals as a cushion. He hums softly as his arm wraps around under yours, reaching to pull the plaid off the back of the couch and settle it around you both. Ticklish, eh? That’s a piece of information best stored for later.

You’re still breathless, absolutely done for. God, best decision of your life, going to the gym. “Now what?” you can’t help but ask. It’s the same fear that always creeps up, the fear that he got to try out a fantasy, and now that he was done with it, he had no need to want to continue anything possibly serious. Not that eating a girl out on a first date, if you could even call it a date, was a sign of a one-night stand, you can’t help but feel awkward and insecure now that it’s all done, despite the comforting cuddle.

He chuckles in response, that same chuckle from earlier in the day, a What a silly question chuckle. Like he’d read into your thoughts and insecurities and found them absolutely laughable.

“Same time at the gym, tomorrow? I want you to squeeze my head off next time.”

“Next time, huh?”

He pulls your leg over his pelvis, trapping his still half-mast cock between his belly and the crook of your knee, hand firmly wrapped to shift you up, almost completely on top of him. When both of you are comfortable and you start feeling the tendrils of sleep pull you deeper, he gives a last, playful squeeze to your ass.

“Next time.”

[gffa]

What do you think of Sabine using the Force in the finale?

👎

I actually have a lot of complicated feelings, I can sort of see what Felony was trying to do, I think the Jedi themselves would be delighted by Sabine, they've always said that the Force is for everyone, no, they wouldn't have adopted her, but Ahsoka didn't take her on either until she SPECIFICALLY was going into a dark place, she never bothered to train anyone else with the Force, like why isn't she training a whole bunch of people, if that's the message? I don't think it's a good indictment on the Jedi of the prequels because Ahsoka made a SPECIAL CASE for Sabine and the Jedi were fine with special cases. But I also think it's another case of Felony not staying true to the worldbuilding because he likes Rule of Cool better than sticking to Force-based themes sometimes and I think he likes his favorite characters more than he likes telling a coherent story, and I think there's a lot of really great id-pleasing stuff and I do love that he focused on a relationship between two women, like say what you want about Felony, he is great for writing iddy stuff about female characters. The emotional stuff between Ahsoka and Sabine was solid, I really enjoyed Ahsoka seeming to finally put her feelings about Anakin into some sort of peace, because they'd been haunting her for like three or four decades now. I just think he sacrificed a little too much foundational worldbuilding to do it and didn't tell enough of the story to make me be willing to fully go along for the ride with him, and yeah I just kind of basically hate the feeling that it feeds into the idea that any character who is cool obviously has to have the Force because god forbid someone be special without it. This is why I hate the idea of Force sensitive Han, too. It's why I would hate the idea that Hera's piloting skills are Force-based. Let characters be awesome without needing to use the Force! It feels a little too much like liking the aesthetics of the Force without the vital worldbuilding that you have to have an extremely disciplined mind to use it, it's not just magic, it's magic with rules about your emotions. That's not the Jedi saying that, that's literally Lucas saying the Force works based on your emotions. So, I get why others enjoy Sabine using the Force in the finale and enjoy seeing their commentary because it makes me happy to see it through their eyes and they're right about a lot of the cool elements in it, there's absolutely room for disagreement without us having to go at each other about it, but me personally no I didn't find it satisfying at all because I love the Force worldbuilding more than just about anything else in Star Wars.

👎

[spearxwind]

Some of those dragons in your recent drawing don’t have any other posts in their tags, could you introduce a few if it’s not spoilery?

Yeah absolutely!! I'll talk about all of them >:)

Alex and C, you know em, both of em dragon arena gladiators that eventually fight to escape the crushingly oppressive conditions they found themselves in.

These planes are manned by Soleil (left), who flies an SU-30, and Gala + Reina (right) on an AWACS plane based on the saab Globaleye. Gala is a Human and Reina is a little dragon, either of them can pilot or handle the IFF system interchangeably, though usually Gala is the one who pilots.

Octane, you know him too, reventant died-but-not-really guy, a jetwing of considerable speed. He's a rly nice chill guy even if dying-but-not-really has made him exponentially more unhinged. Infamous in illegal racing. Used to be a part of Lexios' squadron. And on the right, his brother Jarek, infamous for other things. He's a bounty hunter who specializes in other dragons. Has little care for who hires him as long as he's getting paid.

Arcturus is one of the fastest dragons out there, and they are the interceptor for Lexios' squad. A whimsical guy, they just like to Go Really Fast but got roped into service along with Octane bc of their abilities.

Voltaire is the support attacker of the squad. He's a gruff older dragon with a lot of flight experience and a nasty EMP attack.

Lexios, my beloved, absolute showstopper whenever she appears. She's a jetwing based on the XB-70 Valkyrie, with a little bit from the B-52 Stratofortress. She's MEAN AS FUCK, completely unhinged, and super powerful to boot. She's the squad leader, and her squad is the preferred attack hammer of the Dragon Choir. Very probably a war criminal (god forbid women do anything).

Kelan here is the dragon prince of the region, but he genuinely doesnt care about it. He would much rather be flying around the cast and having fun with his friends than to sit at the council and think about war. His father's death left the Council pretty headless and Kelan's attitude and demeanor makes him disliked among them but deeply beloved by his people.

Razor is a one-winged dragon from the cliffsides and part of the raider force in the highlands where the story takes place. He lost one of his wings in the past, though he was never able to fly with them anyways. Outside of canon, Razor is one of my oldest dragon ocs and I wanted to breathe new life into him putting him in this world :) Also, he has a really thick australian accent. This fact is very important.

Rivier is a desert dragon that has also found herself in the highlands through Circumstances(tm). She's also part of the raider force, and has a human rider called Jem who she goes on missions with. She and Razor aren't related by blood but they have grown up together and consider each other siblings.

[rwbyrg]

Thinking about how Salem sparking an uprising against the Gods and uniting humanity under one goal is eerily familiar to Ozpins view on Ruby being a simpler more honest soul that can spark the hopes of man.

Both reading stories and being inspired to lead their lives off it. Putting their message out to the world and the people answering back. Their actions are the same but in different fonts.

Their imagery is even eerily familiar, most notable in mind being consumed by water, the cliffside/memorials, and both having parts of one of the Brothers powers within, moon symbolism, etc.

Ruby and Salem are building up to be foils of light and dark.

"Likeminded souls indeed"

Like of course Oscar is heavily implied to have a crush on Ruby. They're two characters who are a version of Oz and Salem without their history.

DING DING DING DING DING!!!! EXACTLY!!! This show is one about parallels, rhymes, and mirrors and these four are at the heart of all of it.

I also think it's really interesting that the task the GoL gives to Ozpin is to unite humanity when that's... kind of exactly what Salem did, only she was punished for it? smh. god forbid women do anything.

But anyway, I love that Ruby has taken over Oz's role in that regard. One of my favourite shots in the show that pushes this is this one from The Lost Fable. Where the line right before it says something like: "In time, (Salem) would find her adversary."

The story Jinn tells to cast is one of Ozma being setup to stop Salem, but the story the show is telling us, the audience, is that Ozma walks off screen revealing Ruby as Salem's actual adversary.

There's also some interesting allusion stuff that pushes this even further with Salem being the witch from the Two Brother's fairy tale that is killed by a silver bullet, and Ruby is a "girl who is also a gun" with silver eyes. But to talk more about the SEW stuff, I have to address the celestial symbolism you pointed out.

What you say about "foils of light and dark" is also right on the money. The way these four interact as symbols within the central plot is so poetic. We have Salem as the darkness of night, and then Ruby as the moon. Silver eyes, as Maria explains in V6, "shine like mirrors, reflecting the light of the world onto darkness". But silver eyes don't just reflect the light of the world, they reflect the desire to preserve life onto that which threatens to take it away. Just as the moon reflects the light of the sun.

Isn't it just. So. Interesting. That the person the story is telling us Ruby is most afraid to lose... is Oscar Pine... a sun coded character? So!!! Interesting!!! I'm so!!! Normal about it!!!!!!!!

By extension of this, I do think Oz is generally symbolized by Daytime. A lot of the songs seem to use "days" as a placeholder for each lifetime (or generation) as a "new day" to try again. It also works in the sense that daytime bring sunshine and his curse is what brings Oscar, this generations "sun", into the fray. Additionally, works as a perfect contrast to Salem's night and her frustration that he keeps coming back over and over again.

or tl;dr you know it's bad when i start making diagrams ooh boy

Anyway, yeah, it makes complete and utter sense why Ruby and Oscar are setup as they are with just how central they are to the main plot. This story is one about breaking cycles, so having those two have a successful version of the Ozma and Salem situation is just the most natural way for this to go.

[nqueso-emergency]

Firstly, I want to offer my sincerest condolences on the loss of your mother. It's a cruel fate that so many have to experience way too soon.

But for the purpose of this ask: I saw the ask about BT shippers being 40 year old bi women fetishizers and the way it made me laugh. Let's talk about what it's like for people, especially women, interacting with the toxic Buddies once they hit, like, 25. They get called old hags, fetishizers, their looks get made fun of, god fucking forbid they find out you have kids. But the thing they always seem to forget is that this weewoo show is about people (who are now) in their 30s to 50s. What do these people think that (at lease one of) the target demographics for this show are? You know what I haven't seen (at least yet) RPF of OS and LFJ.

And I also saw the anon post about vile comments that may or may not have been made by BTs about RG and his mental health. If BTs said that everybody needs to call them out. I haven't seen anything like that, nor have I seen screenshots from them showing proof of this. If anyone on either "side" does that, they need to have their internet taken away from them.

But what I have seen is a post from a Buddie saying that a "femme twink bottom" would offended Tommy because he's a "toxic masc gay" like "most masc gay men". But yeah, BTs are the toxic fetishizers. They have called not only Tommy, but Lou, the f slur multiple times (more so Tommy, but still). I have seen posts that said "LFJ that's why your father never loved you" and then proceeded to be even more horrible. They mock his build and looks relentlessly, but yeah, they're totally normal about a show. Lest we forget the most vile thing at least one of them has done yet... the fics.

This stuff isn't even hard to prove, all you have to do is go into the "anti bucktommy" tag and its full of this shit.

And just for fucking shits and giggles let's talk about their favorite thing to say: LFJ getting fired because of his cameos or because they decided it would be funny to hack his twitter and post a stupid kpop meme/ss (like what the actual fuck is wrong with whoever did that fucking shit?) - fuck if i know. None of these people know how anything works. Do they realize the kind of people that some of these actors are? Did we miss the Nickelodeon docuseries? Do we really think that ABC is going to give a flying fuck about that shit when they have a lot worse associated with them in some way shape or form, maybe within actors in the same universe?! Also fired for cameos? He has a contract, he knows what he's allowed to say and what he isn't allowed to say. Some of these fucks wouldn't know common sense if it beat them with a stick.

You don't have to answer this, it just really annoyed me reading these things and wanted to give some dialogue.

Anon, you ate the fuck out of this ask.

[mothmothwoth]

Oh Brandon Roger’s the man that you are,,,, No but seriously I NEED to kiss him on the mouth I ALSO need to kiss Bryce tankthrust. I got fucking nothing, ITS BRYCE TANKTHRUST. HAVE YOU SEEN HOW GORGEOUS SHE IS??

Yeah she killed all those people but God forbid women do anything.

This is actually a post trying to convince you to watch Magic funhouse, you got fucking punked. (I do love Bryce Tankthrust though. I just rewatched Stuff & Sam and she is CLEARLY the best part) But I don’t think anyone talks about Magic funhouse enough or if they do they are in the woodworks and I NEED this to be more liked. This show fucking gutted me in 2017 when I watched the whole thing ON. VRV. WITH ADS. Because I didn’t know how to pirate things yet. Magic funhouse has stuck with me since and it’s been fucking plaguing me. for a while I was convinced it was lost media or some shit my brain made up but then I found it again AND HOLY BALLS. Arlo is the fucking coolest piece of shit here and I want to put him through a wood chipper (affectionate) but I also want to see him finally be happy. It’s terrible! look at what it’s doing to me! It sucks it got cancelled but I could live if THERE WAS ANY OTHER CONTENT. BRO WHERE ARE MY MAGIC FUNHOUSE FANS. IM GOING TO KILL MYSELF. MAGIC FUNHOUSE CAST WAS FUCKING AMAZING. THEY ARE MY FUCKING FAMILY AND I LOVE ALL THOSE ASSHOLES.

I have watched Magic funhouse so many times. PLEASE. SOMEONE GET INTO IT. IVE BEEN DYING HERE FOR LIKE 7 YEARS. I AM ABOUT TO MAKE A MAGIC FUNHOUSE ANIMATIC ABOUT DAVE AND ARLOS RELATIONSHIP TO THE SECOND VERSE OF I CANT DECIDE. SOMEONE FUCKING STOP ME.

[utilitycaster]

In the end, it is misogyny but in the form of that Imogen (and most of the female cast, if we are being fair) gets reduced to just being a woman to the point that criticizing any real flaw, wrong doing, or "hey i personally maybe perhaps don't like that she did this" is turned into an attack on her because she is a woman, because after all, all women are perfect and so so dainty they must be protected (sarcasm)

Without mentioning the attacking real women in the name of the fictional one

It really is the "God forbid a woman do anything" but in it's worst form

Sorry for venting, been having thoughts about the fandom for the past 5 years

YUP. I do recommend Unlikeable Female Characters by Anna Bogutskaya which I devoured in like, one sitting over my winter break and posted a bunch of excerpts from but this discourse is extremely not limited to the CR fandom. I mean, think about all of the endlessly churning nonsense about the women of Gone Girl and Midsommar. I am going to see Love Lies Bleeding tomorrow and have steered well clear of really any discussion because I simply would like to see buff lesbians in a crime drama but apparently the discourse is rancid.

Of course there are people who assume ill of female characters while excusing men. That is absolutely a big problem. But again, we can barely talk about that. I recently made a post about how Laura is not a particularly chaotic player, and indeed is one of the most cautious players in actual play, and again I think there is a serious and important conversation to be had about how there's probably a reason why, say, Travis and Taliesin are more likely to make extremely bold moves, because they didn't get raked over the coals during C1 for stealing a cool broom from a guest character! I actually think Marisha has managed to hang on to some of her boldness and it makes her a stronger player but I would not have been surprised if she retreated after the hate she got from Keyleth. But yeah, in actual play, bold moves are pretty important. We can't even talk about how real-world misogyny holds back the actual actors without some moronic wretch being like "FIGURES THAT A MISOGYNIST CUNT LIKE YOU LIKES A MALE ACTOR."

When a character who is a man - or in some cases, characters who are not men but are played by men - does something people don't like we can say "wow, I didn't like this, but it was an interesting choice by the actor!" but we aren't allowed to either talk about the reasons why a real world woman might hesitate to play a character who does ugly things - because of the misogynistic backlash that will land specifically on her as a real person - nor can we compliment her for going for it and playing a complex flawed character, because how DARE you say a woman is anything less than some kind of Divine Feminine ideal. At best you're allowed a two-dimensional caricature of She's So Sweet And Good But Sometimes Gets Angry (this also happened to my friend Keyleth).

And this might reveal my own biases but like. I as a woman don't love being called self-centered, but that, personally, would probably lead me to some reflection. If you call me a girlfailure, even jokingly, I am going to break your nose. It's really telling that like...one of the absolute no-brainer "hey stop calling grown women girls" feminist tenets has gone by the wayside particularly with the set of people who think that meta that fails to put women on so high a pedestal they are untouchable is misogynist. They are awful towards women, fictional and real.

A line that always stuck with me from, bizarrely, a book about wordplay, was that Victorian men would treat women of their same classes as their superiors, but never their equals - they would coddle them and protect them but they wouldn't actually engage with their thoughts and foibles. (This happened to my friend Jester).

Anyway my personal solution is to keep going. On some level, as my previous post indicates, while I don't want the harassment it also only underscores my point, that a lot of these people are way more invested in being a dick to women on the internet than writing meta about the pretend women they think they like. I have to imagine they're doing this because either think they're entitled to meta they like from people who can actually fucking write it because god knows most of the people making this complaint have the most "if you can't dazzle them with brillance, blind them with the most purple-prose bullshit you can muster" attitude; or because they literally are just champing at the bit to attack women online with the ostensible veneer of "but it's FEMINIST to call THESE women cunts because they said my blorbo wasn't saintly and flawless." However, again, I know that I'm pretty bullheaded and forcibly unlearned the uh, patriarchal idea that women should not be confrontational. I do not blame people who look at this whole situation and say "I'm going to keep my thoughts to myself because this is so unpleasant."

[queerstudiesnatural]

one thing that i don't think we talk about enough is the connection between fatphobia/skinnyphobia and ableism. like how many times have you heard someone say "i'm just concerned about their health", "they're so skinny they look sickly", "their weight will cause health problems" etc, said in a derogatory tone. and yeah sometimes weight is linked to health problems. that is true. but how is that a bad thing? when people scoff at overweight or underweight people and justify it with "they must be so unhealthy", it not only reinforces beauty standards as they pertain to size, but it also implies that health is morally good, and anyone who "looks unhealthy" (and of course not everyone who is overweight or underweight is unhealthy, that's just a connection people make because beauty standards are so fucked up) is morally reprehensible. i know i'm not the first person to say it, far from it, but i do think health should be discussed more when we're talking about body image and the pressure put on people, and especially women, to look a certain way. it's not just about size, it's about not showing any signs that you may struggle with your health in any way. whether it's hormonal imbalances, mental health, or anything else. the pressure put on people, and again, women especially, to look a certain way, is (and this just an example) one of the reasons why it still takes some people years to get diagnosed with pcos. you get told that if you're gaining weight, then you should go to the gym and diet to lose it. you get asked how many burgers you've had in the past month. because if your weight is "abnormal" then it must be because of something bad you did. if you're unhealthy it must be your fault. god forbid every body be naturally different and react to things differently. so anyway idk how to end this but like, body shaming and health shaming often go hand in hand and, i think, should be treated as a joint issue.

[moodymisty]

Anon that talked about Fulgrim here. The same thing is happening to Yvraine. Also this a rant sorry

She's such a cool character. I'll say that I haven't read any books on her, I only watched some yt videos and read her wiki page. But from what I gathered, she's a total badass who'll do anything for her people. Then why she's just left as "Guilliman's eldar gf"? Because the people who say those sorts of things don't know how to see female characters. The elf being paired with the humans is essentially an ancient thing now and it also comes from this. But, at it's core (and in the case of Warhammer), it's fetishization.

Let's take a closer look at this: Guilliman is, obviously, the golden boy of the Imperium. He's an hard-working and logical man, in many of the main he is the main character or an incredibly important character. Of course, somebody will relate to him, they'll say: "he's just like me". Then comes Yvraine. She's from a different cultures, she looks much different and she, and her kind, are considered barbarians. She and Guilliman develop an "partnership" on a bases of a treaty but they still hate eachother. They tolerate one another for the good of their people. These people, who previously related to Guilliman, will toy with plot so Guilliman, basically them in this context, will get the xeno big titty gf and live happily ever after. They do this because they fetishize how different Yvraine is. They want the main lead to get the girl, essentially.

I've seen on Reddit (god forbid) people actually ask if this relationship is canon. They depict Yvraine as an hungry whore for the human dick. This went to the other Primarchs too. They make a list of which xeno races would be most compatible with each primach. Fir example, I've seen a lot of art showing the Khan and Lelith Hesperax together. My brother in Christ, that woman hates with all her heart pregnancy and pregnant women. I seriously think she's a lesbian (if it isn't canon already). Poor Khan is stuck in the Warp, probably wanting to go back to his sons. He'll not look at an Drukhari and say: "I'll smash that" 💀. Lelith won't fall at her knees begging for his cock, she'll already either have fought him or is fighting him.

Sexualization is completely fine. Hell, I fantasize about the Primarchs or other characters from any piece of fiction all day long. But when this fanon headcanons become canon to some people, I think we should tone it down. I laughed at the Guilliman x Yvraine jokes in the beginning, but these jokes should just stop, they're unfunny now 😕

The Yvraine x Guilliman is totally canon guys posts are always so insane to me because, they've literally spoken twice. Shortly after guilliman woke up, and before Yvraine left. And Guilliman was very firm in saying 'thanks for bringing me back, but that's it. please leave.'

Like there was no UWU THANK YOU YVRAINE~ and no OOOOO~ MON'KEIGH ~

Like i don't mind the shitposting to be clear. If people want to ship it or meme about it thats fine i don't fucking care, what's frustrating is now that it's been a few years since that event happened, people are coming into the fandom thinking that this stuff is like, actually real. And they have some political secret romance going on and Yvraine is going around getting that primarch dick on the reg. And yeah the fact that she's one of the few female characters i'm sure doesn't help matters.

I just wish the memeing wouldn't blend into people's actual interpretation of the lore, like it has with a lot of fans. Brain melting literally.

[blacklegsanjiii]

Ah ! I’ll go by Wine then ✨

That’s kind of unfortunate but also insanely funny to me, the siblings have to go through the typical arospec experience of not rly knowing how to identify romantic feelings and being super oblivious to flirting and the like… and god forbid they ask Sanji as the most “normal” sibling, either. He probably has an insanely rose-tinted view of the whole thing and his waxing poetic about how wonderful love is wouldn’t be good as teaching material at all, it’d just be like reading one of those romance books again. They’re on their own, because asking their parents is also embarrassing as hell!! Their adventures are going to be fruitful for sure if they hope to learn anything the not-awkward way.

Though also side note I feel like Reiju pulls the most. All of them are attractive in their own right but Reiju is a pretty lady with a gentle confidence to her that knows how to make you feel special in conversation even when she isn’t completely aware she’s doing it. It drives women crazy . When all of them have a better gauge of this romance stuff they keep complaining to her. She stole all their game. She should share some of her mystique with the class since she has so much. They get kinda too dramatic with it.

- Wine :]

Welcome wine! But yeah, there's five kids who all call their parents gross when they get those particular looks or Mihawk pays Sora those specific words that make her flush. When the kids are out and about and being flirted with no one really understands what's going on, except for Mihawk, Sora, and Sanji. The kids will all be out and about in, hear me out, numbered tank tops that show a lot of skin. You know they're all built and Sanji's three patterned soulmark on his shoulder that creeps up his neck is on display. Also you know it was Yonji who convinced them to wear these and have them made.

Of course they're all being flirted with and Sanji returns it in kind while his siblings are all confused. He explains but it is rose tinted glasses, maybe because he grew up with his parents and has a soulmark. They probably ask him about it once, individually and Sanji talks about it like it's so cool and nice and it sounds cool but they also just....don't get it. They read books on the subjects. Mihawk noticing and just bringing home more. Books about sex, sexuality, gender, soulmates and marks. And of course there are romance books too and comparing notes. Of course if Mihawk or Sora offer any help or conversations the four of them scream and run.

Of course when they feel confident enough to start flirting or flirting back Reiju does pull the most and has the most game. She is drowning in people but she also only acknowledges flirting when she wants to. Her brothers, minus Sanji, all ask for advice. So she gives them what works for her but honestly? They can never match her because of that confidence you mentioned and most of the time she doesn't know she's doing it. That's part of why Perona goes so hard with flirting with her during the time skip because they would mesh so well if Reiju could like stay aware of the flirting. Mihawk and Sora are trying not to laugh at her dismay because they know how difficult they're children can be but also it's really funny.

It'd also be spectacularly hilarious if 124ji mention off handedly that his swords remind them of Sanji and before further explanation can be given they are crying about missing their brother. Sora really asks them, her twenty year olds, if they think it's appropriate. They cry harder in response about him being missing and missing him.

[kamikazegyaru]

the discourse around 'the idol' is really facinating to me (it's also completely rancid and braindead of course) because while people are screaming about it as if it's some unprecedented misogyny almost every single review (sometimes even headlines) of it i've seen reeks of such exhausting type of internalized misogyny itself like they're projecting here, the call is coming from inside the house. people have such a weird negative fixation on lily's body, her tits and nipples and female sexuality in general (that they ofc accuse the show of having) it's literally all they talk about (were they fighting off hard ons in the theatre like what's going on). because you know god forbid a woman shows some nipples (i go around topless around my house all the time when it's really hot like a guy, unnecessary nudity i guess?), the fact that this is still considered 'nudity', free the nipple truly failed us. what else do they talk about? oh yeah, she's masturbating in it (horror!), there's a photo with cum on her face (outrage like this is lily's real actual photo) and some kinky consensual relationship with abel's character. this is all i can remember, such misogyny.

why do people infantilize women and treat them like little children with no mind of their own that can't consent to anything because this is really where this stems from. when you look at some of the conversations it's like the actress is being exploited literally whenever she shows boobs on screen by the big bad male director who is taking advantage of her by asking her consent lmao. obviously the controversy did what it did, but i don't think i've ever seen such a demented and intense reaction towards any other director (and i think that hit piece rolling stone published was a byproduct of that because a lot of people have been having one-sided personal beef with him for a while now, which incudes the press btw because of 'malcolm and marie' lmao). and it probably comes down to the fact that he attracted a massive and incredibly intense puritan zoomer audience and attention with 'euphoria' because i will bet my life that 'the idol' will be much less vulgar and objectifying than stuff like 'game of thrones' or 'the sopranos' or 'wolf of wall street'. but that stuff is fine because it's targeted at male audience and every female "character" that gets sexualized (and also in those examples, outside of GOT, almost every female is just an extension of a male character) in it is just some fucking furniture in the background whose function is to look pretty, get fucked, sometimes beaten and disposed of. so that's fine, but a show that is targeted at primarily female audience that displays female sexuality without inhibition told from a perspective of a female character is not fine because them broads are retarded easily exploited victims and we need to protect them.

[katyspersonal]

Answering some asks in a bundle

...........off to a terrible start, I see...

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Pfffffttt gdfgfd Well, congratulations on "winning", I guess? xD Again, it is really sad how even since the DLC for Elden Ring got announced, fandomry and theories turned into sort of 'betting on a horse' rather than genuine fun and just doing your own thing. 🤦‍♂️

But when it comes to this, I personally like it better when the weaker side, or the side that deals with more toxicity, finally gets vindicated! In this case, people wanting any kind of not-so-kind Miquella, people wanting more charitable justifications of Mohg and.... yeah, Radahn fans. All of which contradicted my own analyses and headcanons, but considering what kinda shit all of these guys had to put up with in the fandom.... yeahhhh, I've never been happier to be wrong! xD *says a person who had two weeks long crisis over Miquella ACTUALLY falling from grace fhhsd*

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August 23rd?? Anon, this ask turned out to be eerly prophetic, because... well, you probably saw why. 🙄

Okay if not, long story short, my friend @val-of-the-north made a based post against people approving of Hornsent genocide that had to touch upon "savagery and evil Marika did in the base game" collaterally, one person wanted to excuse not only Hornsent genocide (saying maybe it was all an attempt to stop the Omen curse) but ALSO Fire Giants genocide for a good measure (saying they were territorial aggressors and war criminals anyways), a blog that has more followers than there are gamers mad at inclusive customization option in videogames reblogged with passionate agreement and added that Fire Giants being killed also was a mercy because they were just slaves to Fell God anyway.......... ( x )

Also yes, you are ABSOLUTELY correct! I DO think that it was a good thing that SOTE revealed many people's true faces regarding some topics! I am always up and supportive for truth showing up, even if it is ugly, even if you might yearn for previous ""peace"" in the fandom and gone illusion of decency of fellow fans! Would you really want things to go back to how they've been before SOTE? To cheerfully coexist near the people that think extermination of """savage races""" is """net-positive""" and not know?

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The fact that these asks appeared just when I went on hiatus?! And this previous one with anon not liking someone's take on Messmer cursing Marika?! What did I miss?

Okay fine, I suspect all three are from the same person, you xD But yeah, I could have imagined, I guess? I assume something similar could be happening with Ranni fans - taking someone hating her as "god forbid women do anything" matter!

It is really frustrating how it happens with every other war criminal female character! See, people will insist that existence of a female character who has done awful things or even war crimes is some powerful statement for feminism, and so, if you are not celebrating the very fact that female character did a bad thing then you are the WORST because you are not contributing! >:( Like, girls, don't worry, I have NOT forgotten that women ARE capable of doing evil...... not around toxic women like YOU!

Sorry fsdjdfshhfds People should stop treating someone disliking a fictional character as a personal attack on all their values and struggles. See, some are SO preoccupied with perceiving a character as a +1 in problems of feminism, inclusivity and representation, that characters who are female/not white/gay/trans/etc are no longer characters to be analysed and criticised. They are "statements". 🙄 🤦‍♂️

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Pffffffttfdt @cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme

I am happy that my posts instantly captivate you! xDDD But you don't need to JUST focus on me! Other people also have very interesting things to say! For example, I am sure @heraldofcrow has many interesting essays and analyses to share.... unless they're about Sephiroth because then I am NOT reading that fdghfgsdf

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It looks worrysome, is this another Sephiroth trolling? No, I really don't think they've gotten so unoriginal as to send me videos...

aaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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@mushroomwithsomeink THESE ASKS ARE STILL COMING!!!!!!

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Awwww @fantomette22 Thank you for keeping me in your thoughts! I am not in the mood for the ask chains for now, but same to you too! Your blog is such a good presense in the fandom, always having such genuine humor and passion for everything! And I swear you have the biggest academical and historical knowledge out of the whole Lore Council! I don't know how you always capture the characters so perfectly, every time you write someone they kind of leap off the page x) Also I am really glad that I am not the only one frying my brain trying to draw the characters in the way that includes EVERY detail of their stupid elaborate designs fhhfdhfsd

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Thank you for the warm welcome @velvet-apricots! And I was glad to see that you still like Midra and Ansbach month later! XD

Unfortunately, I am still not quite ready to come back! I am working much more than I used to for the same salary and there is no way to change that in the near future.. My mental health got better, but physical not so much, so I have to choose what I allow to stress me very carefully! It is like if in a videogame I ran out of healing items but it was eternity until the next checkpoint, so I can't JUST run around and attack ANY enemy! However, attempt to ratio Val's based post as "just another poorly researched Marika slander and hate" earned me crawling out of the safe spot for a bit, so why not also post something else? XD *voice of a guy that had to cry over Messmer*

It is okay though, I am sure I'll be in the better place in life, but only if I struggle through this hard path. I miss being autistic online! Also fun fact: the first thing I received when I logged back was a bot offering me to buy drugs. Come onnnnn, it should be obvious from my lore posts that I've already had enoughf hfhdgfsh

[hasufin]

Not weird. But also very, very weird.

"Weird"

Okay, so, this meme has pretty much run its course. I do want to go into what I think is the reason it got conservatives so riled up, though. I think there is a reason - and it's related to why liberals don't find it upsetting. Moreover, I don't think this is a bad thing, nor do I think it's particularly bad to call them weird [though if you're doing it just because it makes them upset, there's a little problem, yeah.]

Okay, so the first point: to really get someone upset, attack their identity. If you call me a bad driver, I won't actually care. I don't particularly identify as a good driver, and I'm gonna assume you just have some arbitrary notion of what constitutes a "good" driver. But I consider myself a pretty good cook. Say I'm a bad cook, I'm gonna get defensive. The more the attack challenges my identity, the more defensive and angry I will become. This seems to be generally true. Moreover, this helps explain why some people suddenly become very emotional about random things - just happening to stumble across a point of import for them - and why sometimes people offer a very disaffected, uninterested facade: they're reducing threat surface by demonstrating they don't care about things.

Now,t he second point, which is specific to conservatives: they think they're normal. Not just normal, but incredibly normal. Obviously, intuitively normal. They often believe that the way they feel and act is just "natural". Of course men love women and vice versa. Of course you believe in a higher power and want to follow god. Of course you like watching sports. Of course you are the gender you're born as. These are, in their belief, not just typical but the only reasonable way to be. Anything which deviates from this isn't just unusual but very intentionally unnatural. To them anything else seems to be motivated by spite and contrariness. That if you're not wearing "normal" clothing it can't possibly have to do with comfort, you've made a conscious choice to Send A Message, and you're doing that even though your own morality is screaming that you're wrong. That's the core assumption they're making on most cultural issues: that anyone who is different is starting from the same "inherent" notion of right and wrong, and is making the decision to be wrong. And doing so as a direct challenge to, and assault on, "normalcy". Because there is a right and normal, and it's them, and everyone else is wrong and abnormal. Everyone else is weird.

Which hits why being called - and gods forbid realizing they are - weird is so upsetting to them. It's a direct attack on their identity. It challenges their inherent assumption that they are normal. It forces them to examine their beliefs and ask "Wait, am I actually normal? Am I just doing what I'm told, or are the answers really that obvious?" And, no, I don't think very many of them will realize they're just parroting their upbringing and there's nothing special about what they were told vs. what other people were told. But it does hit that disconnect, and that hurts. So it's something they find deeply upsetting in a way that's hard for them to articulate. It ties into some very core notions in ways they've never had to consider before.

So. Call them weird. Maybe it will help. And they are weird, but not in the good way.