#anon qs

[witchthewriter]

I hope this isn't a weird question but do you have a list of sjm characters that you headcanon as poc? Because I want to see what you think and if they line up with my own. I had never seen manon fan casted as asian, but im in love with it!!

I love this question! I've been re-reading the three series, getting ready for CC3 to come out. I have so many things to say, but I'll leave all that to another post - also thank you for this question, it's awesome. Please comment how you feel/what you think in the comments xx

𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑

First of all, the Bat Boys are NOT white. If I see another person fancast Matthew Daddario as Ariel, I will implode! I know it's difficult getting the perfect cast for a story we all adore.

Another point, the Bat Boys are Illyrian, and they are actual real people. Their usual features are tan skin, brown eyes and brown/black hair.

Also, Lucien - who I have fancasted in the past with Martin Sensmeier. I thought it was an interesting idea for a Native American to have that role.

And Amren is MOST DEFINITELY Asian. Without a doubt. There is no ifs, buts or maybes about it. She is most definitely Asian, and I will take offense if someone thinks otherwise.

Also, I don't want the Archerons to be so conventionally pretty, or petite. That's why Alycia Debnam-Carey is my Feyre, Dagmara Bryzek as Elain and Jessica Brown-Findlay as Nesta. I want women who aren't models!

The Valkyries;l Emerie is described as brown, as she is an Illyrian woman. And I'm completely fine with Gwen being red-haired, freckled and pale.

I'm curious about Mor, her physical features are fine - but her 'power' has yet to be revealed. Because it doesn't make sense???

𝐓𝐎𝐆

There are a lot more cultures in this series than the others. For me, it was so interesting because I'm desperate to know how different countries/continents, experience magic.

Learning about the Ruk's, with Nesryn and Sartaq, that was amazing.

I thought Manon was Asian, I always thought she was?! I mean from that link, that's how I imagined her. Whenever I see fanart where she isn't Asian, I just don't see them as Manon.

I definitely think the Cadre could be more than "tanned from hours of training in the sun." I think Lorcan could be a black man! And I def think Fenrys is half-black. Maybe with a white mother though. I hope I'm not coming off as insensitive! Please tell me if I am, because that isn't my intent.

Honestly, I don't care about what's 'canon,' I think there are way too many white characters in every part of literature. I know about history and when it comes down to fantasy worlds, I think black people should be allowed to indulge themselves as much as they want, without having to think about their awful history and what their culture has gone through.

𝐂𝐂

I actually thought Danika was black, it was a surprise to see fanart and she isn't??? For some reason, it doesn't sit right with me to have a white Danika.

Again, I feel like there aren't enough people of colour. We have little fire sprites, we have a lion-dog pet, a serpent queen, angels, and barely anyone who isn't beyond tan.

I don't think this series has a black character ... other than a few background characters that are only mentioned here and there ... if anyone wants to weigh in - I'm still learning about cc, I forget A LOT.

But in no way has SJM been as horrible as J.K. Rowling. Not only was she racist, but cliche', and a pick me. There was too much pick-me energy among the female characters. I'd like to think that at Hogwarts, the girls stick together no matter what (for me, female friendships are so important. It's sisterhood).

[eqt-95]

A double whammy? I hope you don't mind, but I think you're up to it... ❤️💜

Lena was a woman of science, and anyone in that industry could tell you that external factors could interrupt normal behavior. Like heat. 

It was summertime, and Lena did not do well in the heat. Her skin would burn, she’d melt with discomfort, and her brain would get muggier than the humidity. Sure, National City's heat was contributing, but it was nothing on the exposed arms and glimpses of midriff and polished abs her very best friend’s outfit had on display. 

Lena stood with her popsicle melting under the summer sun and pretended not to stare like she was the thirstiest lesbian on the planet. Meanwhile, Kara debated between the keylime or the berry cream popsicle from the very patient vendor with Ruby and Esme weighing their own very serious choices.

“Careful, someone might catch you gawking,” Sam grinned, taking a swipe across her own raspberry-lemonade treat.

“I’m not gawking. I was… just…”

“Admiring? Observing? Panting?” Sam offered.

“What’d you get?” she continued, not waiting for Lena’s reply before crunching into the strawberry basil popsicle in Lena’s hand.

“Hey!” was her lame, muggy-brained response. A pout came next as she looked at the Sam-shaped teeth marks in her popsicle.

“Yum,” Sam mocked, chomping down on the icy treat and shooting Lena a mischievous smirk and an antagonistic wag of her own, unmarred popsicle. 

Lena would blame it on her sufficiently over-baked patience later, but for the moment, a surge of irrational competitiveness overpowered normal social behavior which was why, without warning, her hand extended to grip Sam’s forearm and her mouth plunged downward, wrapping her lips fully around Sam’s popsicle and slurping upward.

Revenge was achieved. The world was balanced.  Sam looked mutinous. Lena grinned, wiping a small dribble from her chin. Esme giggled from the popsicle cart. Then: “Aunt Kara is eating wood!”

Lena turned her attention to the trio. Ruby was smiling ludicrously while happily licking away at her orange treat. Esme had her little hands clutched around a purple one laughing with unhinged delight. And then there was Kara. Kara who was negotiating three and a half popsicles. Half because Kara’s mouth was clearly full. And chewing. And crunching - gnawing. And looking red faced. And uncomfortable. And like she might take flight any second.

“Kara?” Lena managed, ignoring the suggestive elbow from Sam. “Are you… are you eating the stick?”

Kara immediately shook her head; eyes watering, shifting awkwardly. Then, slowly, nodded when Lena’s brow arched in suspicion.

“You know you’re not supposed to do that, right?” Ruby inserted, casually twirling her own.

And Kara simply nodded again.

—

Lena was a woman of science, and anyone in that industry could tell you about how any hypothesis was established through extensive observation.

It was through regular observation that Lena knew all of Kara’s quirks and habits. It was why Lena was quick to notice a new habit appear. Kara squirmed. She squirmed and blushed and stammered more often than usual. 

So Lena pushed the limits, checking in when Kara’s new traits showed up and, perhaps Lena was putting a little bit too much hope into it, but there seemed to be a correlation with, well, Lena.

But she needed more data. She was a woman of science after all, and anyone in that industry could tell you about the months and years it took to observe, test, and bring to market a new product.

That was where a range of experiments came in: 

Experiment no. 1: Weekly Brunch

Constant: location (Noonan’s), time, day, and table

Variable: Lena wore a low cut dress

Results: Kara dripped egg yolk onto her pants, syrup onto the table, and dribbled orange juice down her chin and onto her shirt

Experiment no. 2: Compromising Situation #1, the elevator

Constant: location (L-Corp private lift), floor change

Variable: an IT cart was ‘accidentally’ parked in the cab, taking up 95% of the space and requiring Lena to press into Kara for the full 63-floor ride

Results: Kara’s work laptop screen was crushed between her fingers

Experiment no. 3: Game night

Constant: location (Alex + Kelly’s), time, day, company, food

Variable: wine; more specifically, wine location: top shelf, hard to reach without a little black ink revealed on Lena’s back.

Results: Alex called Kara out for floating

Experiment no. 4: Compromising Situation #2, Al’s

Constant: location (Al’s), time, day, and company

Variable: their usual table was ‘missing’ one chair, leaving a musical chair situation until Lena simply sat in Kara’s lap

Results: Kara didn’t speak the entire night

Experiment no. 5: Movie night

Constant: location (Lena’s apartment), time, day, company

Variable: chocolate covered strawberries

Results: invalid

Note: experiment considered an outlier and to be noted in future studies. Before Lena could follow through with her protocol, Kara lifted a strawberry to Lena’s lips who, taken aback, bit into the strawberry. Kara replied ‘good girl’, popped the rest into her own mouth, and Lena didn’t speak for the rest of the night

Experiment no. 6: Lunch date

Constant: location (L-Corp), food, time, company

Variable: Lena ordered the greasiest double-patty available

Results: 

The experiment wasn’t going well, and even Lena Luthor’s patience had a limit for inconsistent data. That data was currently slurping her straw through the final dredges of an extra large milkshake from Big Belly Burger. That limit was when Kara Danvers stopped squirming and blushing and stuttering over Lena’s sultry, albeit ineffective, attempts at making a juicy burger look sexy.

The limit was crossed when, unaware of Lena’s greasy chin and flexing fingers and soft moan, Kara went and flipped the tables by turning Lena's anatomy into goop. How? It started when Kara dragged a finger over the cup’s inner wall and licked it clean with a demeanor that was making a different sort of mess. 

Another set of underwear ruined by a Kryptonian. And not even in the way Lena dreamed it.

It was when Kara reached a second finger into the cup that Lena’s patience let out a small whimper which years of practice covered up with a tiny cough.

“Darling,” she choked, throat tighter than the forgotten straw on the coffee table. She stretched her lips into a smile and crossed her legs. Always crossed her legs.

“Hm?” Kara asked, two vanilla-covered fingers deep inside her mouth, tongue swirling with the practice of

“I think you've sufficiently polished your milkshake.”

And Kara, blessed Kara, stared longingly at the empty cup like a puppy who'd just been abandoned on a farm. 

And Lena, cursed Lena, only then noticed the dribbles of milkshake left behind of Kara's lips and chin and now her tongue was-

“Right,” Lena said with a finality that included slapping her hands on her thighs, exhaling shakily, and standing with hopes that Kara couldn't hear anything out of the ordinary on her walk back to a desk of libido-killing work. 

“Hey Lena?” Kara asked, and when Lena turned around, Kara was standing. Close. Like, directly-in-front-of-her close. Like, Lena-could-have-wavered-an-inch-and-collided-with-her close. 

“K-Kara, what-?” she asked before taking a step back and pressing into her desk.

“You’ve got a little something-” Kara began, staring intently at Lena’s mouth.

“I-I do? Where-” Lena stammered. She lifted a hand to wipe at her mouth, only to feel it captured by a strong, warm, steady Kryptonian hand. 

“I got it,” Kara offered instead, and before Lena could process air or space or time, Kara’s lips were on hers. They were on hers and sending shockwaves of surprise and confusion and arousal and - to hell with thinking. Instinct won out, and she returned the kiss, letting out the soft whimper she’d always concealed and leaned into the softness of Kara’s lips, and gave access when her tongue trailed along Lena’s lower lip.

“I don’t think you can call these outliers anymore,” Kara smirked minutes later.

And Lena, too breathless and stunned to play calm, cool, and collected, absolutely folded: “How did you-?”

“Sam,” Kara said simply before interrupting Lena’s outrage with another kiss.

“Well, you know what they say,” Lena offered, still breathless but less stunned, “twice is just a coincidence.”

“Care to make it a pattern then?”

“Absolutely.”

Lena was a woman of science, after all.

[slutforpringles]

Should we be panicking? Because like, it’s kinda obvious Liam has the seat in VCARB, mainly because Daniel does not seem to want it. But…maybe Daniel has accepted his fate at being left out and is now just laughing around? He’s good at media obvs

I just want to reiterate I don't necessarily think that what Motorsport Italy are reporting about the RBR/VCarb seats for 2025 is correct. The reason I highlighted the article's comments was only because of the embargo theory that had seemed quite a logical explanation for the rather inconspicuous and unusual media silence over the past week on Daniel's future/the VCarb seat for 2025.

If a decision has already been made, so far it seems like it's been kept very, very quiet. None of the usual journalists with good Red Bull sources have reported anything, or even hinted at whispers. The assuredness with which some journalists are reporting about Lawson definitely being in the VCarb seems to be solely based off of Helmut's comments to the media, which have been even more unreliable and erratic than in previous years.

Personally I still think based on just my personal read of Daniel's comments, demeanour and attitude that a positive (for him) decision has been made and I don't think one speculative article proves otherwise. I think there's likely to be a lot more articles this week about the situation, especially given Helmut Marko said that a decision would be made after this weekend in Singapore and if so it's worth remembering that media speculation is usually just speculation and nothing more.

And yes Daniel having to prove himself over and over in a car that is falling further away from being competitive is frustrating, but seeing how calm, cool and collected he's been even after tricky and difficult races is also why I believe that a positive decision's already been made.

Also just to answer the other ask; I don't think an embargo would have been tied to the 15th - if there was/is an embargo then it would have been tied to an announcement date, but I could be wrong. I just struggle to see how an embargo could still be possible based off what we've heard/read from various people and media already.

[timetravellingkitty]

hi!! I just found out about tumblr having an anti-hindutva tag and I shall be making myself comfortable here! just found your account like a few mins ago and if it’s ok, i wanted to ask some questions (you absolutely don't have to answer if you don't like any of them or even if you don't feel like answering :) ) (edit added, this ask got way too long lol. feel free to skip it! also, you're kinda super cool lol)

I'm Indian, currently outside India, and I've only started learning about the shitshow going on in my 'mahaan bharat' since November (specifically since finding out that we are Irahell's biggest weapons buyer). and the more I find out the more shocked and heartbroken I feel...

like this week i learnt about the immigration ban in US against Chinese women that existed a few decades ago, and the ongoing discrimination against Palestinians in Canadian immigration services... and both the times I was so disgusted and there was this subconscious feeling that India should never be like that. but then an hour ago I learnt about the 2019 CAA and wtf!?

another example being that currently we're seeing israhell's continuous bombing of heritage sites of great cultural and religious significance, that also held so many centuries old records and histories... and learning about how they are bulldozing over graveyards and exhuming them...

and then today I learnt about Akhonji Masjid and Gyanvapi Masjid and of course have known about Babri Masjid for a few weeks now...

and only learnt about Kashmir in november...

and I feel like my whole worldview has shifted from a previous foundation, except it's so drastic and I still don't have a new foundation...

I try to talk to members of my family about this but they're the Indian equivalent of the U.S. liberals, and every single time they'll tell me "whatever news you're hearing is propaganda written by Pakistan/China/U.S./Russia. trust me I have Muslim friends and they're very happy. you just don't know the situation cause you're not in India" and like it sometimes make me think maybe I'm the one losing my mind...

I even read some places about free Punjab and that confused the fuck out of me cause I'm Punjabi (who does not live in Punjab) and I don't have any clue what it's about... I asked my fam, but they just gave me a weird look and told me to stay away from anyone that mentions Khalistan😭💀

(this got way longer than I expected, so sorry) but would you have any recommendations for any blogs/articles/books/podcast resources or any personal recommendations for news publications that are reliable (finding God would probably be easier than finding such publications lmao) like I thought Al-Jazeera is super credible, but then read that they're super credible when it comes to Palestine, not when it's global...

like where tf do I go from here lol

hello nonnie! some news sites I'd recommend are newslaundry (they have a youtube channel too), the wire, scroll.in and newsclick. maktoob media is mostly focused on minority rights in india. hindutvawatch.org is about hindu fascist violence committed against minorities. I still think you should stick to al-jazeera at least when it comes to palestine (they have journalists on the ground there, shireen abu akleh was one of them)

this is a good introduction to anyone wanting to learn about hindutva, this and this are about how india is becoming increasingly unsafe for minorites and is undergoing a democratic backsliding. this and this are about the rss link to nazism

hostile homelands by azad essa is about india's historical relationship with israel and the parallels between hindutva and zionism. the brown history podcast has an episode about how india went from the first non-arab state to recognise palestine to its largest buyer of weapons, featuring azad essa (x). you can also read colonising kashmir by hafsa kanjwal about how india came to militarily occupy kashmir. if you want to learn more about kashmir there are the blogs kashmiraction.org and standwithkashmir (which is um. blocked in india. i wonder why)

i have not read khaki shorts and saffron flags yet but this one is about the history of the rss. i also suggest watching the documentaries ram ke naam and jai bhim, comrade which are about the hindutva mobilisation in the 1980s

for me free punjab is very ?? the indian government is beyond evil as they continue to spy on sikhs abroad (and ofc, the 1984 sikh genocide) but i don't think liberation will be achieved through a religious ethnostate. any state formed on the basis of religion will inevitably turn out to be a disaster. i do encourage you to read lost in history: 1984 reconstructed by gunisha kaur, which is about the human rights violations committed against sikhs during this time and why operation bluestar was in fact not about freeing sri harmandir sahib from "terrorists." all i can say is to stand with sikhs unapologetically as our shitass government continues to commit more and more human rights violations against them

in general, i'd tell you to observe the language used by different news outlets and question it (eg. american news referring to israelis below the age of 18 as children but the same courtesy is not extended to palestinians) and check their sources. if it's from whatsapp university don't even bother

[hiskillingjar]

could we get some t4t law w a transmasc mc? I'm absolutely feral for any t4t btd content but ur transfem law portrayal has me in a chokehold I need that girl so bad

YES!!!!!!!!!!!!! YES WE CAN!!!!!!!!!!!!

1200+ words, t4t love is divine <3 love your local transfem today <3

You took in a low hiss through your teeth as the skinny needle slid into your skin, sinking deep into your flesh.

"That okay?" Law mumbled lowly from where she was kneeling at your feet, her hand (big, lovely, a little bony) on your soft hip as the other held the syringe tight and pressed the plunger down, injecting the testosterone fluid into you.

There was something phallic about the gesture, and had you pointed it out, she probably would have agreed with you (though might have chided you afterwards).

"Yeah. I just never get used to the sting, you know?" You mumbled quietly, biting your lip to hide your coy smile as she rubbed a soothing circle into your skin, shaking her head (shaking out her blonde hair, she had cut it yesterday with a razor and made her bangs too short) with a little chuckle.

She laughed a lot more these days. She blamed therapy. You blamed yourself.

"Mm, I know," She nodded and drew back the needle, giving your hip a quick kiss as she stood to her feet, her willowy height putting her almost a head taller than you. Not like you ever minded that, though, you certainly made up for her height advantage in other respects (when she let you). "You're a big boy though, you can handle it. It's not so bad."

"No, it's not so bad…" You murmured as she started to prep her own needle (after disposing of yours in a trash can under her sink, never properly), admiring the harsh slope of her crooked spine, her broad shoulders, her slim waist, clad in nothing more than a cropped vest and a pair of sleep shorts.

She was beautiful, you thought, as you slipped behind her and rested your chin on her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her freckled skin against yours, but a beauty that was strange and personal. You liked that more than conventional beauty, though.

"Needy," She mumbled softly, a smile on her delicate features.

"Mmhmm…want me to do you?" You replied, watching attentively as she drew in her own hormone fluid with the new syringe and glanced up at you through the mirror, those once lifeless grey eyes filled with sweet fondness (in spite of how dead they remained).

"Yes, please…" Law whispered, her voice raspy and low, not the higher tone that she usually took these days.

She was honest with you. She used her true voice, and showed her true self, even if it had the potential of being scary or dangerous.

You were never scared of her.

It was an equivalent exchange of submission, you thought, as your hips pressed tightly together and your arms circled her skinny waist (too skinny, she should eat more, she should eat better), taking the needle in hand.

The willingness to be penetrated, to be the vulnerable one, to be the one taken…she submitted to you as you did, so often, to her.

She was trembling slightly from the anticipation, maybe the cool air of the bathroom too, but managed to keep her voice as level and calm as she could, like she didn't want to show you how much she wanted you, how much she wanted this.

"Ready…" She mumbled softly, though the word trailed off into a low moan as you pressed the tip of the syringe into her flesh, almost to the very hilt of the needle. Too deep, you knew that, you'd been injecting yourselves for months now, but...it felt right to do it like this now.

"How are you feeling, baby?" You asked quietly, pushing the plunger down and emptying the contents of the syringe into her.

"Mmm…mmh," She moaned again, tipping her head back against your shoulder (her blonde hair tickling your collarbone as she did so), her hands trembling as they went down to your hand on her thigh.

Her cock was stirring to attention in the loose sleep shorts, and you could see it gently twitch and jump beneath the gusset of the thin cotton.

"Ah, someone's getting excited," You murmured with a coy smile, as your other hand slid to her hip and trailed along the harsh V-line of her pelvis, to squeeze and grope at her cock and stroke it into full arousal.

"Hahhh…" She breathed out shallowly, her chest rising up and down as the last of the estrogen was emptied into her body. She gripped your wrist tightly, her underlying strength still clear as she dug bit nails into the delicate lines of your veins.

"So hot," You murmured, taking the needle out of her thigh and planting your now free hand on her hips, pinning her still against the bathroom sink.

Her body pressed tightly against yours, and you wanted nothing more than to merge into her, melt into her, feel your skin graft with hers and your bodies become one. But you couldn't do that, at least not physically, so you held her hips tighter and forced her to turn, seeing her flushed face up close, her backside hitting the edge of the sink.

"You make me feel like a God, Law," You rasped lowly (your voice had sunk a couple of octaves in the months of doing this together), pressing a hungry kiss against her neck, running your tongue over her throat.

She stifled a weak cry as her arms wrapped around your shoulders and clutched onto you tight, her bitten nails digging into your skin, threatening to tear into you.

You wanted nothing more than for her to do that.

"And you feel like Heaven…" You gasped, running your tongue over her sharp collarbone (so sharp, you wondered how it hadn't punctured her skin), before erratically shoving her tank top up her chest, still groping her hard cock through her shorts. "I hope every angel in Heaven looks just like you…"

"Mh…" Law shivered as you tongued her skin, running her own tongue over her lips as you kissed and nipped down her sternum. "I'm…mm, I'm no angel." She whispered with a shy smile, her pale skin flushed.

"Yeah, you are…" You replied in a tone as close to awe as you could manage, reaching up to grope her tiny chest, the growing swell of her breast filling your palm, and pinching at her sensitive nipple. "I hope all the angels are girls like you…sharp noses and broad shoulders and perfect tits, just like yours."

"Ngh-!" She gasped, her body tensing up and her grey eyes fluttering shut as you toyed with and stimulated each of her most sensitive spots, the gradual squeezing of her cock turning into subtle jerks, up and down the impressive length. "Ah…g-god…"

"Mm, you can call me-" You growled your name with a grin as you dipped your head and suckled her nipple, pressing your body even closer to hers.

She wheezed out a husky giggle at your bad joke, her trembling hands reaching up to cradle your head against her breast, like a baby to its mother, fingers pushing into your hair and pushing her chest outward, as if presenting herself to you.

"Mm, you're my God," She mumbled, reaching down with her free hand to rub against the damp patch gathering in your boxers, making you moan and bite down on her nipple. "You shape me, you mould me into a proper woman, a proper girl…an angel, that's what makes you my God…"

"You too, baby…" You whispered, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips to her breast. "You make me more of a man…"

"You are…you're my man," She smiled, holding you even tighter. "And I'm your God…"

[frownyalfred]

This might sound weird, but I really like hearing people's thoughts on a/b/o and their world buildings about it. I just think it's so cool that so many people can have such wildly different interpretations on it to fit what they want!

Is there an aspect of your own a/b/o au that your particularly proud of? Or that you would want to explore more in depth than you've been able to so far?

It’s not weird at all! I love seeing what authors choose to use or leave out when building their worlds. Every one is so unique.

I really like how far I’ve been able to dig into pack bonds and pack dynamics in this series. I don’t see a lot of that in fics these days, which is a shame. Having those platonic but equally strong bonds between multiple people is so fascinating to me.

I’m also proud of how much detail I’ve been able to give to beta dynamics in my fics. I always feel bad when they get left out as alphas and omegas get the cool/angsty instincts and characteristics. Building up Alfred to have his own commands, instincts, etc has been so exciting for me.

One thing I want to touch on more than I’ve teased a little bit about is how pack structure can function as a legal entity, or used to in some societies. The idea of modern societies pulling away from pack structures in search of a nuclear family unit is so fascinating to me. Because those instincts don’t go away! But the omegaphobia and tiered system remain, while you’re pulling away all of the connective tissue that negates them.

[quackity1999]

Hi. Ooc 🍾 Anon here. What would happen if. Hypothetically. I gave him another vision of him. Just a little one.

[ OOC: stares. hi. god the itch to yell about pumpkinduo in dms. zsorry NKRMAL. hit me with it we endorse fucked up asshole schlatt around here PLEAS!!! PWEASE ]

[chiff0n-echz]

Proship just means you don't harass people over their fictional tastes. It's called being a decent human being. Besides, it's not proshippers exposing kids to shit they're too young for. That would be antis pulling that crap.

★My groomers were proshippers who convinced me that that shit was okay through those morals. I'm not harassing anyone, all im asking for you is to fucking leave me alone. Is that too much to ask for???

[leilavin0]

Sorry if you already said this somewhere but what happened between Cain and Abel? Why'd Cain kill him they seem on good terms with each other from what you've shown of them together

[ hullo! i haven't gotten this one before and it's actually something i have been doing a back and forth about for a long time ...

cain killed abel from frustration and envy, but he never meant to kill his brother, he literally didn't know that a blow as hard as he had delivered would put an end to his baby brother's life - there weren't other humans around that died.

neither of them knew that death was an option and they were too young to learn about it.

abel's last memory of cain is his older brother experiencing hysteria (he learnt the term much later during his time in heaven, when humans started studying the psyche) after his offering was rejected.

cain was crying and laughing and abel tried to console him, knowing how exhausted cain had been before the assignment of the offering - could see it in his sleep deprived eyes and his nutrient deprived body. he watched his older brother be put under immense expectations and responsibility.

and he finally snapped.

abel never blamed cain for what happened, knowing all the reasons behind his actions - cain wasn't smiling at him maliciously when he raised the hatchet, he was laughing after abel managed to pull him out of hysteria and they were just being dudes, until the hatchet came down.

abel does blame adam and eve for the entire thing, ends up decking adam in the kisser when he learns that he exiled cain after the tragedy, screaming at him to tell abel that it was a joke, that he didn't just send his brother away like that.

"i did it because i lost my youngest--"

"you lost your eldest first!"

it doesn't help either that abel is usually in a state of psychosis, becoming lucid and manic whenever cain has his yearly heaven arrival, trying to get as many moments with his older brother as possible (adam is not invited).

i think i went waaaayyyy off topic - but! - hope that answers it! ]

[fiovske]

Silly question, linguistically what's the difference between saying bangla and bengali

no worries! "bangla" is what we call the language as we speak it and to us, "bengali" are the ethnic people who are/were native to bengal and speak the language. I do understand that to the rest of the work "bengali" means the language of the people of bengal, and not often the people itself, so i suppose in that sense "bangla" and "bengali" are interchangeable. but usually when people who are from bengal call themselves/someone else "bengali" it usually means "this is a person originally/descendant from bengal, belonging to that region's ethnocultural population" and when they say "bangla" they just mean the language. :D

hope that answers your question!

[witchthewriter]

Hey!! How are you?

Oh, hello! That's very nice of you to ask xx

I'm okay, getting a lot of requests. I wish I could write faster! I'm also creating potion bottles, like the ones that have the swirling colours. And because using fire is involved I accidentally set my nail on fire (I have fake nails) but now it looks burnt lol

How are you anon? I hope all is well °˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧°.🎀༘⋆

[eqt-95]

💖 rough kiss / hot and heavy / making out

please👉👈

oh anon, i am definitely the wrong person for this one, but here goes nothing:

- - - - - -

Lena has a secret. 

No, it isn't that she’s doubling as a superhero in her free time. That’s Kara.

And no, it isn't that she has an unquenchable crush on her best friend. They'd solved that eons ago.

And definitely no, it isn’t that her toy collection is extensive and well-stocked. Everyone at game night already knows about that.

The secret went like this: 

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Lena replied with the innocence of a Luthor.

“So it just so happens that the bartender who has been making eyes at you all night is now being sized-up by my sister?”

“Correlation without causation. I thought you were a scientist,” Lena shrugged and tried her best to conceal a knowing smile.

“Uh-huh,” Alex replied with an arched eyebrow that said much more. “And that fact he grabbed your ass on the way to the bathroom?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Well I for one am not about to do a bunch of paperwork over an NDA because Kara can’t keep it together over this ass-hat groping you, so if you will excuse me-”

- - - -

And this: 

“Hey babe?”

“Hm?”

“What’s this?”

Lena looked up from her work and squinted at the letter gripped in Kara’s hand. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just some administrative stuff,” Lena hummed and returned to her work.

“Doesn’t look like ‘nothing’. It looks like you were served.”

The scowl that followed was one that could be seen from space which meant it was impossible to ignore from across their apartment. Lena rolled her eyes. 

“It’s just Morgan Edge playing bully again, darling.”

“Yea but,” Kara continued, eyes skimming the multi-page document that now had a few extra crinkles in it. “He’s suing for patent rights? Who does he think he is-”

“It’s nothing, really. I’ll handle it tomorrow.”

“You shouldn’t have to handle it in the first place.”

“It’s fine. Let’s just-”

But Kara was already gone through the terrace door and halfway across the city.

- - - -

And most of all, this:

“Ms. Luthor, The Sun has accused you of covering up nearly a dozen fatalities since-”

“Lena Luthor, it has been alleged that Obsidian North’s stolen technology was found in L-Corp’s latest-”

“Ms. Luthor, how do you explain the recent deaths associated with-”

“How do you sleep at night when your maniac brother is still on the loose-”

“No comment,” Lena repeated for the eighteenth time. She pushed ahead, trying to find a path between L-Corp’s front door and the waiting car that would take her home. Unfortunately, the best path was also the longest. Worse, when she looked ahead, her car was nowhere to be found. What she did find was wall-to-wall traffic and no chance of freedom.

Great.

More questions were hurled, a flash sent blotches across her vision. Another came an inch away and sent her staggering. It felt like a garbage compactor except worse because garbage compactors weren’t sentient creatures known for shouting lies while doing its job.

She clambered through the crowd and found a gap. She glanced around for her security guard who was lost amidst a second offshoot of angry journalists and misinformed citizens. Now wasn’t the time for manners as three journalists and an oversized camera pivoted toward her, so instead of waiting, she booked it down the sidewalk.

They followed with vigor and ignorance and a stubbornness that would have made Lillian proud, shouting rather uncreative conspiracy theories and growing closer by the second. Lena turned a corner then, in a move she might have patted herself on the back for, slipped into an alley. She breathed a sigh of relief until-

“Ms. Luthor-”

“Lena Luthor-”

“-you can’t hide from the truth.” 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Lena heaved, staggering backwards in the kind of stereotypical way she mocked television shows for.

The cameraman was fastest, breaking into her personal space and jamming the lens into her face.

“Ms. Luthor-”

“-is it true Supergirl won’t speak to you?”

“-how does it feel having National City’s Darling reject you?”

What happened next might have been comical if Lena weren’t breathless, irritated, and fuming that her anniversary dinner was being interrupted by a wave of wannabe reporters hanging onto the coattails of the marketing dollars that funded their tabloids. 

Be that as it was, she was not in her usual smirky-mood when the burst of air sent all of them turning on heel to find an equally irritated and equally fuming Supergirl towering over them with the kind of anger usually reserved for the extra-bad baddies.

“S-supergirl,” they all seemed to whimper in unison. 

The camera was fumbled then dropped. The lens splintered with a deserved crack. A few short seconds later, it was the only evidence anyone with a press badge had been there.

“Where’d you take them?” Lena asked when Kara whooshed down moments later. She pushed off the brick wall and closed the distance, raising her hands to fix Kara’s ruffled cape.

“I considered the middle of the Pacific-” Kara shrugged.

“Oh is that right?” Lena smirked, letting her hands climb to brush an errant strand of hair into place.

“But then I remembered the whole ‘hope, help, and compassion’ thing,” she continued, her own hands finding a home on Lena’s waist. “So I dropped them off just outside the city limits instead.”

And there it was: the secret. Somewhere between Kara, all beet-faced and rage hovering over the cowering reporters and then dragging said group of gaggling reporters to the edges of town, Lena felt it - that tiny pang of warmth and safety and appreciation that always came with her overprotective Kryptonian. It also usually sent a tiny pang of something else through her.

“Well that was very big of you,” Lena replied, the gap between lips narrowing. “But just so you know,” she continued, her breath ghosting across Kara’s lips, “I had it handled-”

Kara skipped her lines and closed the gap, pressing lips, hands, and body against Lena until her back found the brick wall again and nothing but the taste, touch, and smell of Kara consumed her. Lips dragged to Lena’s jawline then neck then exposed shoulder. Hands grabbed against the restrictions of fabric. Lena cursed (again) the constraints of a supersuit.

“I really need to design you a new suit,” Lena huffed.

“Probably for the best.” Kara replied, fingers venturing dangerously close to public indecency. “Alex says we need to leave before someone sees us anyway.”

“Tell Alex to stop committing voyeurism. There are websites for that.”

“Oh, she did not like that,” Kara snickered, lips pressing a final kiss to the crook of Lena’s neck. 

“Turn that thing off and take me home, Supergirl.”

“What about our reservations?”

“I have other dinner plans tonight.”

- - - - -

ask game

[raceweek]

no but please tell us more about the graves, or just graves in general in property law, it sounds fascinating

the truth of the matter is that in the uk there’s absolutely fuck all legislation about it!! there’s like five pieces of really old statute collectively called the burial acts which almost solely deals with the plague so you basically have to go….sooooooo its not a plague pit so far as we are aware……….let me know if you have any questions :) x

[scummy-writes]

I have been thinkin

I don't mind talking about writing (in regards to fanfic), whether its in regards to writing practices, thoughts about writing certain subjects/etc, or possible advice or other thoughts.

However! I have hangups about questions regarding what would make writers 'better' than one another, or how a style is better or worse than another, or thoughts on how to appeal to others more. Its one thing to ask questions geared towards trying to view your writing in a different way so you can improve if you want to, but it's a completely different thing when the goal towards improvement is to become 'better' than specific people so you can be a jerk about it.

I don't like to view the subject of writing, especially when it is a hobby, as if its a weird competition. I don't like questions geared towards that. So if you send stuff about that, or how x writers are 'better' than y writers, and you're wondering why its not poppin up, its because ive trashed those qs.

Thats that.

[inhibitionfreewriting]

request again (if that’s okay?) i’m the noah kahan anon (and your fic was SO good im so excited for more) but butchered tongues by hozier as childhood friends to lovers with lud?

or first time (by hozier) with lud!!!!!

so while the second part to the original request is coming slowly but surely, once again i got into a zone and i just...

--

he was your best friend, who lived across the street and two houses down, who from the moment you met him always had you giggling. small bursts, full on fits of laughter, tiny snickers hidden by tiny clasped hands, trying not to wake the adults, trying to hide your secrets away from the world. but he's always there running around with you, scraped knees, dirt under your fingernails.

there's the time you almost drown in the nearby lake because you're both daring each other to go further out than you should and the mud beneath your foot slips and you're overtaken by water and panic. you're not the best swimmer and when you can't find your footing again, he calls for you, hoping it's just a joke.

he's there just out of reach for the first time and it solidifies just how important he is to you. he helps you up as soon as his little legs can cross the distance. you don't tell him that you think you have a crush on him, because you're only 11 and feelings are cringe and right now it doesn't matter. he's your best friend and you are his.

it's a few years later and you're walking home, crunching the autumn leaves under your feet, kicking pinecones in your path. he's talking about a girl a class you don't share and you can feel your heart breaking into a million pieces as he explains an over elaborate plan to ask her out on a date. in the end she says no and you're there with him for the heartbreak. you call her every name in the book at 14, explaining that she's the biggest loser in existence and anyone would be lucky to date him.

you wish it was you, to be the one cradling his heart and protecting it from the pain, but your friendship is number one and always above all else. he stays that night, too tired to walk back home. it's different, you think, staring at his back in your bed after having his heart broken, but your heart is broken too, isn't it? you stifle your crying to the best of your ability, roll over and force yourself to fall asleep.

he's thinking it too, staring at the pictures you have thumbtacked into your wall of you and he and the few other friends you both have made. there's a picture of you both with your arms around one another in red matching sweaters. he loves that picture even if he doesn't know it yet. it's his favorite. there's something in his chest that tells him to roll over, a paranoia that you're not okay but he mistakes the feeling as just more pain of rejection and doesn't move. it's the last sleepover that you both remember and on nights when you're drunk the memory still stings like a shot.

"ew - really? there's no way you actually like him." he embarrasses you, making a face at your admission of a crush on another classmate. you can't keep eye contact with him while you try to elaborate - he got you a carnation from the school on valentines day and it was sweet and you thought, maybe, just maybe it would be the way to get over the lump in your heart that he was. still, you keep that secret to yourself, going silent halfway through a sentence and curling in on yourself mentally. "look i'm - i'm just saying that derek on the soccer team is dumb as fuck and have - have you ever even had a conversation with him? he's probably just doing it out of pity."

"pity?" you snap, "oh, right, okay, because the only way i'd ever be able to get a date with anyone was out of pity." you stand up and knock the textbook and notes off of the desk in front of him before storming away. there's no way that he thought that low of you, but it's the ichor in your heart gumming up the gears. it hurts, it hurts so bad to think that- was he pitying you? all the time and years that you spent together? doing chores and spending allowances together, memorizing the others favorite ice creams and movies and video games and-

your mother holds you tight that night, stroking your hair as you cry into her chest, about how much you hate him. he's an asshole and he doesn't even like you clearly. she soothes you the best she can, but you're a few months shy of 17 and nothing stitches the wounds he's laid on your fragile heart. that doesn't come until much later in your story. you go to bed that night after clearing polaroid after polaroid off of your wall, throwing them into some school folder that previously lay abandoned in your room. you don't want to talk to him let alone see him before you go to sleep. the poorly sewed pillow from home economics he traded with you gets shoved into your closet.

he keeps it to himself when he gets home, telling his mother that he's tired and he just wants to get through his homework and go to sleep. he doesn't do his homework that night, too busy watching tv and the clock, ticking later and later into the night. his mother is worried but doesn't press, though she makes him eat that night even if he hates it.

not to be dramatic, but for a minute you feel like you forget what his voice sounds like, you haven't spoken in a week. stubbornness flows through both of you stronger than the harshest waters in a river, capsizing anyone who isn't certain of their path. he finds a new groove where he leaves for school 5 minutes off of you, whether it's before or after you can't determine but it's never the same time. a few kids at your lunch table take pity on you when you are eating alone for what feels like the billionth day in a row and you connect easily. as the loneliness gets pushed beneath the surface you wonder if he notices that you're not trying to catch his eyes as often.

he does, and he hates it, because he's trying to return the caught eyes even if he doesn't know it. but you're both foolish and angry over nothing. he passes 17 without you at his birthday party, the invite torn up and in a trash bag in a place where his mother won't find it. he lies when she asks, curious as to where you have been all this time, months and months at this point.

"i don't know," he shrugs, nonchalant to the best of his ability while he watches his friends play melee. he can't make an excuse before one of the guys sits up and scrunches his face in thought.

"didn't you throw her invite out because she's a freak?"

"woah - you can't call her that."

"you literally called her weird like 5 minutes ago!" ludwig's face turns red and sheepish as his mother gives him a look, disappointed and sad all in one. when she leaves, he sinks into his spot, covering his face. how embarrassing. "dude, she is a freak though, she's always by herself, it's fucking weird."

"she's not fucking weird!" he snaps, shoving him. nobody is allowed to call you weird except him, you are his weird friend. an argument breaks out and the party ends sooner than intended and his mother grounds him for fighting in the middle of the house. at least his birthday doesn't get worse outside of the sinking feeling in his chest.

you hesitate on a text saying happy birthday with the picture of the two of you in red sweaters attached. you remove the photo and the heart and send it, plain. it felt disingenuous - maybe he deserves it though, he didn't even invite you to hang out.

you 9:56pm: happy birthday

ludwig 10:27pm: thanks

you 10:30pm: do anything fun?

ludwig 10:36pm: party got cancelled cuz my friends are assholes

you don't think the laugh that comes out of your mouth is real, but his text gets the tiniest of noises from you.

you 10:37pm: all guys are assholes lol

he starts typing and then stops a few times. maybe that was too much and the regret swims through your veins immediately, you curl up into the poorly stitched pillow long rescued from your closet for comfort. the longer it takes, the more you sink, starting to type an excuse, 'i mean not you', but he responds faster than your shaky hands can type.

ludwig 10:50pm: you're right

ludwig 10:50pm: sorry i was an asshole

ludwig 10:51pm: ider what i said but i know it was stupid

of course he didn't.

you 10:52pm: derek would only go out with me bc of pity

ludwig winced in his bed, dropping his phone to his chest and smacking both his hands to his face. wow he was stupid, derek would have been lucky to go out with you. you were wonderful - fantastic even, you kept him up at night, his mind wandering to moments of you smiling and laughing with him, and then the way your face fell when he made that stupid pity comment. rolling onto his stomach he replied.

ludwig 10:59pm: wow 16 year old me was dumb huh

you 11:00pm: you've been 17 for less than 1 day 💀

you 11:00pm: you're so stupid

you 11:01pm: i h8 you

surely, you meant it in jest. you were talking to him, at least, hell this was the most you'd spoken in months so you absolutely had to be joking. he pulled a dramatic frown, took a picture and sent it to you before questioning the decision.

ludwig 11:03pm: [image attached]

you 11:03pm: can i be gay for a moment

ludwig 11:04pm: yes?

you 11:08pm: i missed your face a lot😞

you 11:08pm: i miss you a lot

you 11:08pm: can we hang out tomorrow

you 11:09pm: we can do w/e i dont care

you 11:09pm: we dont even have to do anything

you 11:09pm: can we just hang out

you 11:12pm: please

he missed you too, more than he would ever care to admit, eyes heavy with exhaustion and sadness as he stared at your near pleading.

ludwig 11:15pm: come over when you wake up

ludwig 11:15pm: im going to bed

ludwig 11:16pm: night

shoving his phone far under his pillow, he flipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling. you were mimicking the position in your own bed, your hands over your heart. how long had you been sitting on your infatuation? how many diary entries had you written about him? how many poorly drawn profiles littered the ripped pages of your notebooks? sleep took you both restlessly, carrying you along the rocky waters till daybreak where you wrestled yourself into shorts and a tshirt.

you couldn't bring yourself to care about how you looked or smelled (you couldn't quite remember when you showered last), you just wanted to give him a hug, the biggest hug you could muster. you missed him so so much. as you'd done hundreds of times before, you entered his home, locked the door behind you and all but ran up the stairs and towards his room.

badum badum badum

your heartbeat was loud and almost painful in your ears which caused you to stop and stare at your hand centimeters away from his door. you wanted to feign ignorance, that your broken heart was not beating like this for any reason, that it was silly and foolish and so very very stupid. chewing on the inside of your lips, you swung his door open. his body jumped a little, still under the covers and barely processing that you were already here.

"hey," came his groggy voice, the heel of his palm rubbing into his eyes as you nudged the door closed and kicked your shoes off. he propped himself up on his elbows and maybe it was the way you looked, slightly disheveled but jittery, or the fact that your breathing was a little choked and heavy, but he wanted to kiss you more than any other girl he'd ever seen. "why're you standing over there still?"

"i-i.. i don't know." he breathed out a tired laugh.

"so come here?" with the invitation you crossed the remaining space between you and flopped into the space next to him, on top of the covers. it takes him a minute but he lazily rolls over to face you. he smells of a late night shower and morning breath. he's warm with sleep and you're warm with the early morning sun.

"i have a crush on you," you blurt out, closing your eyes like you expect physical retaliation from someone who has never actually gone so far as to beat you up. when nothing comes you slowly open your eyes, peaking through the timid butterflies frantic in your stomach. the face he has on is awkward at best and you're trying not to read into what he may or may not be feeling. "s-s-sorry, that's. i shouldn't have-"

"no, me- me too!" he responds, stopping you in your frantic, panicked downfall, not wanting to hurt you again over a miscommunication that he was the cause of. he wraps his arms around you tightly and you let out a tiny breath of relief and returned his hug.

"i'm sorry you're so stupid," you snicker, burying your face deeper into him, still embarrassed. when you both finally pull back, your lips are pursed into a pout, and his mouth is open to say something snarky in return but nothing comes out. instead he kisses you the way he's wanted to kiss you for two years, since the first time he saw you wear a pink tinted lip gloss. you return with fervor and you kiss like that a thousand more times.

[taegularities]

c&f jk and cmi jk, what are your ‘tells’ when you wanna do the deed with your wife/gf? 🤭 how do you make it known or you just tell them?

c&f jungkook: "you see, in bed it's usually cuddling and kissing that turns into a lot more. or interrupting her as she reads… and i start giving out a lot more compliments than usual when i'm feeling particularly… needy."

c&f jungkook: "but the best, silent communication occurs when we're at balls and gatherings. imagine a room filled with a crowd. and she's standing on the other side of it, so gorgeous that it makes me feel ill and… and we get sick and tired of people, craving each other from these two different corners of the room and i grit my teeth and clench my jaw and just give her this look that… we need to get out of there."

-

cmi jungkook: "…oh. oh, wow. that was intense. i'd advise you to catch your breath, but i actually get what you mean. it felt like this when we went on our trip and then to wedding, i was so–"

cmi oc, interrupting: "waiiiit. can i answer that question? okay, thanks. neck kisses. neck kisses. neck kisses. it's his tell and mine, too. they're dangerous. and if it's not that, it's usually conversations. sounds weird, i know, but i mean the fun type, when we're laying there and laughing about just anything. and that joy turns into affection and cuteness aggression, which in turn leads to kissing and touching. closeness. and then, the giggles turn into different sounds, and the rest… yeah, you know."

c&f jungkook: "that… well, that made me miss her quite a bit. i will dash for a while."

cmi jungkook, hot and bothered, yet sporting a dreamy smile: "yeah… yeah. i love her, y'all. i really fucking do."