#it’s hard to emphasise enough

[sixth-light]

Gonna probably do a slightly feral post tomorrow about RJ and how white male authors get isolated from their historical and especially racial context but also we DEFINITELY do not think enough, in terms of WoT and gender, about the fact that in the late 70s he met and eventually married a divorced single mother a decade older than him, and moved into her family home where they lived happily ever after

[unwillingtoreachout]

my most ooc headcanon is that, while Nora said that andreil never say "I love you" to each other, she never said anything about Aaron saying it to Andrew (I think)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

YES! JOIN ME IN THE DELCIOUS DUNGEONS!

[stil-lindigo]

felt compelled to make this post after seeing the absolute mess that is my inbox this morning.

I feel like I’ve somehow made people think I’m an authority on this strike for some reason, and I just want to say that I am a random person simply trying to do my best, just like the rest of you. I’m neither Palestinian nor Jewish so please stop asking me to speak for either side and I am no more enlightened or educated than the average joe. I really can’t emphasise enough how much I am Just An Artist who makes comics sometimes.

I am happy to direct people to resources when it’s within my ability but I’m not like especially qualified to give advice. I am working with the exact same resources available to all of you and, I mean this as kindly as possible, there are some asks in my inbox right now that I know for a fact you could’ve just searched for on your own, instead of coming to me so I could spoon feed you a course of action. I am truly begging you all to have some initiative yourself in seeking out information and resources.

[codgod]

they both look pretty different now, right?

+ the frames

[aroanthy]

hi!! i know u talk a lot about aromanticism a lot on here, but i don’t think i’ve ever seen u talk about aromantic anthy. would u mind discussing/elaborating on it or linking to a post where u do because i’m very curious!!

i got a similar ask half a year ago or something ridiculous like that on my main blog, but i’d like to really do justice to my url right now and explain it in more concrete terms.

i will say, it’s important to bear in mind that this reading of anthy’s character is very much informed by my own experiences, and a lot of those experiences are ones im not keen to talk in depth about. but you know. let’s make some nebulous gestures towards ideas of being traumatised, being autistic, struggling to meaningfully connect with others and honestly not really wanting to do such because of how they treat you.

like ive previously said, an aromantic perspective on the world would, i think, really benefit anthy. when youve lived your whole life experiencing violence at the hands of these patriarchal structures, of which romance is absolutely one, it’s kinda like. damn. im uncomfortable buying into those ideas.

anthy also has this lovely line in ep 19 where she says to utena ‘romance either happens or it doesn’t’ and it’s just sooooooo. so very interesting to me, actually, that anthy would say something so black and white about ‘romance’, a topic that anthy knows better than a lot of rgu characters is hopelessly confused and arbitrary and often enabling violence. and utena (fellow aromantic gaybo) says 'yeah, i know, but...'. these simplifications, these elisions. what is and isn't articulated. but what? maybe things are much more complicated than we'd like to think.

anyway enough of that tangent. one thing i as a trans and aromantic person always return to when discussing trans and aromantic readings of characters/texts more broadly is that there's no singular piece of evidence that can really cement these readings as Undeniable. it's like. okay. there's a critique of romance as a patriarchal structure in revolutionary girl utena. there's an ambiguity about anthy's feelings towards characters like utena, where there is clearly a queer connection but it takes shape in unconventional and complex ways. me, i'm aromantic, i see all of these pieces and i go oh well that's because she's an aromantic lesbian. you know, there's plenty of little moments i can evidence but those moments can be used to argue for an alloromantic lesbian anthy too. romance is a very arbitrary thing and i think everyone should take their own approach to it unapologetically. of course, mine is that it's hellish and i want nothing to do with it, but im just one guy. and im okay with that. i feel strongly about this reading and it is personal, and id be dishonest to say otherwise, but i do also find that it's well-evidenced in the text. as one of my lecturers once said, don't worry about authorial intent, it isn't real <3

[ranticore]

do nico's friends/colleagues know of his. uh. shenanigans regarding everybody's favorite horse/otherworldly being? i cant imagine they'd be happy about it

I wanted to answer this one with screenshots of the book text but when I say I haven't been at home except to sleep since tuesday I really do mean it so you will be getting the acoustic version of a response

Answer is that in canon (not au), Nico is disaffected and has sworn off dating and has withdrawn from most relationships. He and his ex dated while transitioning and couldn't handle how it affected their relationship and it had a very harsh impact on him. So it's actually his colleagues who push him to hang out with Pascal more (his friend Aimée sets them up on an investigation/date together, as Nico's first meeting with Pascal is in the context of Pascal being a key witness to a kidnapping). But they think he's just some weird guy who seems disarming and unconventional enough to catch Nico's attention.

After it's revealed that Pascal was certainly responsible for some (not all) of those disappearances, Nico was the one who dragged himself to the Otherworld to confront him, because he felt responsible and humiliated for having been strung along like that. His colleagues explicitly told him not to go but Nico hates being accountable to others and wanted to be the one to Deal With Pascal, as the person who kinda knew him best. After rescuing the detainees he quit the investigation and went home.

From then on, nobody knew that Nico continued to work with Pascal (investigating the unicorn). His friends who pushed him to open up and date again were like ohh fuck we messed up, let's give him some space and stop pushing him - not really knowing that behind their backs, Nico kinda was dating again (Pascal) (for real this time) (lovers to enemies to lovers)

Then one day he got caught by Aimée (she's a hooks ranger). He'd gone out onto the lough to investigate the islands on it with Pascal, got attacked, stranded, and broke his ankle badly. Aimée was the rescue worker who got him back home and she saw him with Pascal on that island. She threatened to tell on him but eventually agreed not to. He was disciplined formally for nonstandard unsafe operations and told to Stay The Fuck Home or he'd lose his job.

He didn't stay the fuck home and when he was caught a second time - by Aimée's captain - he was dragged to the ranger disciplinary council again and charged with aiding and abetting a faery. this time Pascal was made to give testimony, and he saved Nico's hide by making this great big (very fake) speech about how he was such a horrible monster who needed Nico to tame him and he's soooo sorry for losing sight of his own humanity but Nico dragged him back from the brink of evil etc. Nico was stripped of his captain's post and suspended on condition that he Keep An Eye On Pascal as, apparently, the only person in the world who can hold that leash without coming to harm

[omgpoindexter]

one time somebody asks nursey to sign their samwell hoodie and nursey doesn’t have a pen so he asks dex for one and dex has to reach into his bag to find a pen and nobody has ever uncapped a sharpie so aggressively before

[twofoursixohjuan]

look if somebody had told me moby dick had a scene where ahab summons the entire crew for the purpose of screaming his whale feelings at them like, i kid you not, "a moose" and then they do shots and the narrative shifts to stage directions while the crew have an impromptu dance party and talk about boobs...

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

The Saint of Bright Doors

a surreal Sri Lankan fantasy about colonialism, revolution, mixing fantasy with the modern world

follows a man raised by his mother to kill his father, a god-like cult leader

but as an adult he puts aside his life of violence and moves to the city for a quiet life

he becomes fascinated with ‘bright doors’ around the city that never open and have no other side, and joins a group studying them to find out more

and a support group for those with divine heritage that becomes increasingly revolutionary, until the task he was made for reemerges and his life upends

[kkoct-ik]

hii!!! i rlly like your artstyle and your yttd drawings ^_^ you don't need to respond to this or anything just wanted to say that :3

hehe ty. i try my best

[tmae3114]

"why do I have such an awful stomach ache what could possibly have caused this it's a horrible mystery" <- girl who ate a gigantic mint chocolate traybake several hours ago even though she KNOWS and HAS KNOWN for years and years and years that she gets stomachaches from eating too much mint

[dontwanderoff]

so they've asked me to finish out the year with this class

[my5hiningstars]

.

[cute-little-crow]

You’re in a particular mood whilst in the midst of intimate shenanigans and it’s about to get you in a whole heap of trouble. Or when you ask them…

“Is it in yet?”

feat: Rafayel, Sylus, Xavier & Zayne (separately)

tw: female reader, brat behaviour, regretting decisions, smut smut and more smut, edging, overstimulation, temp play, light bondage (held bodily), all the boys bringing out their Dom sides to varying degrees, spanking, oral fixation, creampies, hair pulling, phew sorry if I missed something

“Excuse me?”

“What? It was an innocent question,” you huffed, biting your lip and glancing towards the ceiling light over his shoulder.

You could feel the hard length of Rafayel’s cock twitch within your walls, his hand, splayed wide at your hip, tensed until his fingertips pressed harder into the soft yield of your skin.

The urge to squirm was growing more intense, but then he would know. He would know you were goading him. Hell, he probably already knew given the narrow of his violet hued eyes and the crease forming between his eyebrows.

When he didn’t speak, didn’t move, barely drew breath, you piped up once more—pushing your luck too far.

“All I asked was if it was in yet. What’s the problem, Raf?”

Rafayel hissed.

The unnatural noise made you jump, a pathetic moan tumbling from your lips when the jerking motion nudged the tip of his cock against your swollen pleasure spot.

“Brat…” he seethed, pulling out of you and leaning back to spread your thighs wide apart. “And to think I was being so nice to you. Clearly, you don’t want nice.”

His long fingers splayed out on your sensitive inner thighs, holding you down on the bed with your cunt gaping and flexing from where he had just been buried. Arousal dripped along your slit until it dribbled to the sheets below.

You reached from him, squalling from the sudden empty feeling but he pushed away your hand and gave a stern shake of his head.

“Rafay—”

“Hush. Don’t speak. Let’s see how long you can last, hm?”

Gripping the base of his cock, he spread his knees wider so he was closer to you once more. The fat tip leaked with precum which he smeared around your entrance before pushing into you, but stopping when the tip disappeared.

It felt delicious and your skin warmed all over from the sensation. You keened, attempting to roll your hips upward only to be stopped by a firm grip.

“Oh? You feel it now… shame.”

Frowning, you licked over your suddenly parched lips.

Rafayel was pissed.

It turned you on to see him darken; from the colours swirling in his eyes to the shadow falling over his face to his entire demeanour growing sterner, everything more angular and sharp.

Again he withdrew and let his cockhead slap against your puffy clit, far from gentle. Your nerve endings were on fire, sweat gathering on your hairline.

Over and over Rafayel repeated the process. He gave you only ever an inch and never for long enough. Your stomach was in knots from the treatment, the continued smacking of your swollen pearl which he would reach down and tweak every now and again, stopping when he knew you were getting close.

“Please…” you begged, broken and near tears. “I need to feel all of you. ‘want your cock.”

“What’s that, cutie? I didn’t think you could feel anything… and now you want it all? Brats don’t get treats, they get tricks so hush until I’m ready.”

Rafayel edged you for the next hour; giving you enough stimulation to keep you tense and desperate but never enough to satisfy your needs.

It would be quite some time until you decided to be sassy with the Lemurian again.

Sylus paused.

His mouth pulled back from your neck, steady breaths tickling your skin and emphasising the bruises blooming to life.

“I’m sorry, I think I must have misheard you. What did you say, sweetie?”

You were regretting your moment of madness already, heart pounding so harshly in your chest that it just might beat right out. Funnily enough, your voice disappeared into nothing but a strand of whimpered syllables.

He clicked his tongue in dismay, and cupped your chin firmly to bring your focus to his face. You couldn’t run from the piercing intensity of his vermillion eyes, nor from the hold on your jaw that tightened until you were close to squeaking out.

“Nothing, I’m sorry—”

“No, no. You should repeat what you asked me, kitten. Something about ‘is it in yet?’, no?” His voice was a deadly calm whisper and that was so much worse than an overly emotional reaction.

Sylus thrust harshly into you when your mouth flapped open and closed like a fish out of water, your stomach clenched and your legs wrapped more tightly around his waist.

“Seems like you can feel me just fine… so why deny it? Does the kitten want to brat me tonight? Tsk tsk. Bad kitty.”

He peeled away your legs from his sides carefully, thumbs digging into the backs of your knees whilst he adjusted your body beneath him. You went from being intimately close to having your knees digging into your chest and your ankles by your ears.

The adjustment allowed him to sink deeper into you, knocking the air from your lungs. Sylus loomed over your folded body with one stretched hand holding your ankles. It was enough to keep you in the position he desired, enough that every forward momentum felt like you might burst all over him.

“I can’t hear you, sweetie.”

You squealed and squirmed. Your eyes rolled over to the back of your head. You wet his cock so thoroughly that slick dripped from his balls, only emphasising the smacking sound when they impacted heavily against your backside.

Over and over he drove you through orgasm after orgasm. Sylus wrung you like an overly used towel and listened to you sing his name along with the best attempts at apologies you could muster. Every sound was desperation incarnate and he let out an amused huff that gave way to a guttural groan signalling his own release.

“Sylus… oh fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Instead of releasing your trembling legs, the cunning man above you ran his fingers around the base of his cock, coating them in the mixed essence of you both which had managed to escape.

The digits came away creamy, shiny and debauched. With a wolfish grin, he pushed them into your mouth to silence your continued pleas for mercy. Your tongue flattened against roughened pads, the tang lighting up your taste buds and saliva rushed to meet them.

“I heard you, but bad kitties need to be reminded of their manners. Now then, suck my fingers cleans so I can fill you with another load. I need to make sure you really feel it after all…”

Sylus made you pay for your sass over and over that night…

“… did I? Did I hear you right?”

“Did I stutter? I said… is it in yet, Xav?” You asked churlishly. His cerulean eyes swam like oceans in front of your face, a fleeting look of hurt passing over his features and that was enough to deflate most of your bravado.

“Wait, baby, I’m sorry. You don’t deserve—”

Xavier cut you off with a move you could only describe as pro wrestling adjacent.

One moment he was cradled by the comfort of your body and the next, he was rolling you over onto your stomach and straddling your thighs. His hand traced the curve of your spine, pressing your chest deep into the plush mattress and ending by winding around your hair.

“No, baby. You don’t deserve to be given half-assed dick. Let me make up for my failings,” he rasped into your ear, leaning over you whilst his slick cock rocked between the cleft of your ass.

He tugged on the makeshift ponytail he’d made, drawing your head up at the same time the rest of you was crushed into the sheets, your hands trapped beneath your stomach—useless.

“Spread your legs—that’s it—I see you’re not completely off the rails tonight.”

Xavier worked himself through the gap of your thighs, the blunt head of him butting up against your clit and drawing little gasping hisses from you. His fingers tightened in your hair, and you squirmed, futile beneath his weight.

When he finally notched at your fluttering hole, you were holding your breath so hard you could hear the blood flowing in your ears. His hips descended, dropping himself flush along your body at the same moment he fucked into you.

“Shit!! Xav! Oh god…”

Xavier chuckled nasally, a hungry mouth clamping over the beating pulse in your neck. He set a harsh pace immediately, fucking you prone bone.

You could do absolutely nothing but take every hit. His cock moulding your pussy to fit him and him alone. The angle had him rutting right up near your cervix, so close to flashes of pain but measured enough to stop before he could inflict any actual damage.

He huffed into the crook of your neck, biting and licking over the hurt with shallow breathing that mimicked your own. Xavier was relentless and you had never seen him quite like this.

“So tight, princess. You feel me now? Tell me. Do you feel me in your belly? Gonna spill any minute,” he admitted with a heavy grunt punctuating the words.

In your belly? You could feel him in your damn throat with how deep he was hitting and all you could do was squeal. The sound heightened into a high pitch shriek only animals would hear when he shifted himself to deliver a hearty smack to your backside.

“C’mon… tell me. Is it in now? Is my cock deep enough? The cream you’re leaking tells me yes but I want to hear it from you.”

“Yes! Xavier, yes!”

Never again would you make that same mistake. Who knew your star boy had it in him?

At first, you weren’t sure if he had heard you. Zayne was frozen above, hands pressed to either side of your head and his eyes fixedly shut.

You were about to repeat your attempt at being a brat just to see how the good doctor would react when he blinked open his eyes and your jaw snapped shut.

The frown deepening his brow seemed genuinely startled and he raised a hand to feel your forehead like he was assessing you for a medical condition.

“You don’t feel feverish… perhaps some neurological condition has manifested,” he muttered almost to himself.

“Zayne—don’t be silly. All I asked was if it was in yet?”

He hummed—thoughtfully. “Yes. I heard you, but I can’t quite correlate the words with the sentiment because I know you can feel me.”

“Oh, you do, huh? Sound pretty full of yourself, Dr Zayne.”

As if for emphasis, he pumped himself into you with a snap of his hips. It resulted exactly as he wanted, with your breathless gasp and your head flying back against the pillows.

“You were saying?” He asked coolly. “Perhaps I should check your reactions to other stimuli, just to be sure…”

“What does that—oh!”

Ice veiled the tips of his fingers, careful blue veins creating intricate patterns. Zayne sat back on his haunches, cock still plugged into your clenching cunt, and traced those frozen digits down the column of your throat and towards your breasts.

“Cold! Cold! Stop that,” you yelped, swatting at his hand which diligently refused to be dissuaded.

Only the very corner of his mouth quirked into a smile, his smart, ever assessing eyes watching intently whilst he circled your puffy nipples and they stiffened further from the cold.

“You seem to react to low temperatures within normal ranges, how about warm temperatures,” he mused absently.

Without further warning, his head dipped and his tongue brushed your pert nipple. Zayne’s lips surrounded the bud and suckled with enthusiasm. The instant heat of his mouth bowed your spine and raised your ass so you were grinding yourself shamelessly against Zayne’s front.

“Zayne… fuck.”

The friction elicited from the coarse thatch of neatly trimmed hair at his pelvis caused you to mewl and whine. Your fingers carded through his dark hair and all rational thought flew from your mind.

Just as you were getting used to the hot sensation of your nipple being sucked and pinched by careful teeth, he switched. Ice enveloped the swollen skin, a burn gnawed at your gut but it was a pleasant one.

Zayne continued to tweak at your nipples in turn, cooling them down and warming them up with his tongue, all whilst he maintained a steady pace within you. His cock throbbed and your walls spasmed.

“My diagnosis,” he said quite suddenly, mouth breaking from your breasts with a shallow pant, “is that of brattitude. Quite a severe case too…”

You groaned aloud, eyes cast heavenward at the near orgasm that was close to cresting over you like a playful wave.

“Treatment begins now. I’ll make sure you continue to feel me all night long.”

The good doctor was true to his word, and come morning, the only thing you couldn’t feel were your legs.

[louisisworthit]

*