#it's an uphill battle and I'm tired
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rrcraft-and-lore · 11 months ago
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Happens here too. The US.
And I tried to address a lot of this stuff and some of the things said in my cab driver novel.
The problem it's "hard to connect" to by an industry predominantly filled with people who've never experienced that and don't understand the impact to people, character, and how much that changes personal narrative and thus back into a fictive one from that perspective.
Your entire thought process on life and risks and everything are different.
There's an expectation for certain Asian communities to fall into the model minority trap.
Also be: submissive, meek, compliant.
When I first pursued acting I saw this stereotype enforced and expected almost unknowingly by people.
Same in fiction.
It's changing now, but...it's an uphill battle.
Take for example the history of Sikhs in warfare. Used as cannon fodder by the British, well respected warriors, served in armies around the world, even WWI and WWII for America as well, not just the British. But you don't hear about that. It's something that's talked about in Asiatic circles.
With what Bruce Lee did for the Chinese community. He smashed through stereotypes and showed badassery. Chinese martial arts. A Chinese ass kicking hero. But there were obstacles.
And it's what motivated me to write a book based off things I saw and experienced and also understand - trying to address stuff I don't think people are aware of especially in fiction. And, make a narrative that actually reads in that way - the pacing, considerations, and more.
We're told to always have actiony/ACTIVE characters.
But what we forget is a lot of poc's don't have that activeness/agency in their own lives due to certain systems, expectations, and things like this. And, other concerns. So what then does that narrative actually look like? And, what does that fight and reconciliation with one's self to get that agency look like as well? I worked hard to answer that and more in The Cab Driver.
I def need to thank WaylandSmith1 and ZacTopping for reading, liking, blurbbing, and vetting the accuracy of certain law enforcement, gang, and other aspects of the novel too.
But, yeah. It's been on my mind.
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jesncin · 1 month ago
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With regards to the Martian Manhunter's backstory: in the recent pages of Justice League Unlimited Mark Waid reiterated, in the span of a single panel, that J'onn "took human form" and was "Superman before there was a Superman". The wording and the rest of the scene indicates that they've reverted to John Jones being a fabrication and J'onn having been stranded on Earth for decades.
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What's more, Dan Mora's art portrays "John Jones" in his original appearance from 1955 right down to the striped tie. The white crackle around the character even calls back to the visual language of those strips.
So apparently the 2019 origin retelling Identity - the MOST RECENT one - is now out in the cold. Fuck knows what's in and what's out when it comes to J'onn.
Mark Waid always at the scene of the crime I tell you. Not only is the 2019 Identity origin of J'onn impersonating a Black!John Jones police detective out the window but like...what does this mean for Nubia Coronation Special (2022)?
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Gosh, Stephanie Williams and Vita Ayala wrote such an incredible interaction between Nubia and J'onn only for comics to just backtrack all that progress and make John Jones white again. In general I feel like DC editorial just falls asleep with anything going on with J'onn so it's not surprising but it is disappointing. It's not like I'd trust Waid with J'onn after that stunt he pulled with Strange Fruit.
I just,,, want us to be so wary of this pattern that's happening in adapted media. We'll get reboots with "diverse reimaginings" but the characters are stripped of cultural identity and functionally white in a manner that is antithetical to their marginalized identity, or we'll get white washed reimaginings but with a marginalization attached that white people can latch onto. I don't think it's a coincidence that Absolute MM is pushing for a take that is resonating with neurodiverse readers while erasing the racialized aspect of J'onn's character.
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bushfulofbirds · 1 year ago
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Tired RW,BY fan braves hbomb video after three years (he finally downloaded it of Internet Archive), more at 12
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exospherethoughts · 1 year ago
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I don't know how to feel. My psychiatrist told me I do have OCD, and now I just, don't know how to feel or what to do. I know logically speaking, having the label doesn't change my symptoms or what my daily experiences are, but it still feels so devastating to know there's another separate thing wrong with me. Some of the things I thought were just quirks are compulsions, habits I picked up that I *need* to do to keep my anxiety manageable are things I'm going to have to learn to stop doing, I'm questioning the source of every single thought I have now, I don't know how much of who I am is actually me and how much of it is the OCD (which things are quirks and which ones are compulsions? which thoughts are really mine and which ones are seeds of intrusive thoughts? do I even have any thoughts anymore that aren't obsessive spirals?), I feel the need to tease apart what is OCD and what's ADHD but that in and of itself is a compulsion, I feel like I have to monitor everything that goes through my head to check if it's an obsession/compulsive rumination (is that a compulsion too?), I'm so tired. I want a moment of peace and quiet, just a moment of silence, a break. But nothing makes it go quiet. Drinking helps for a little while but even that just numbs things out a bit, it doesn't make my mind go properly quiet. I wish I could put my head through a bloody wall.
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sporesgalaxy · 8 days ago
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Making international friends is definitely one of the best consequences of the world wide web!
Among the great people I've gotten to meet from all over the world, in the last year I've been lucky enough to become friends with Nader @abdalsalam2000 ! ^_^
I try to share Nader's gofundme often, but I worry sometimes that people will tune it out and ignore it. Please, keep your heart open!!!❤️
Seeing gofundmes for Palestinians begging for their lives every day may be tiring for you. But imagine how exhausting it is for the Palestinians who have to run these campaigns while barely surviving in of the ruins of their homes. We are not at odds with these people, they wish only to live happily. 💚❤️
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Nader @abdalsalam2000 is a part of one such family, trapped and suffering in Gaza.
Nader is only 17. He has been working constantly to reach out to people online in order to fund his family's escape from the horrors of war in Gaza. He dreams for his father with cancer and his malnourished neice to be healthy again.
Nader was forced to start over their campaign recently when Gofundme cut off his family's access to their previous campaign, so despite how hard he has been working for all this time, his family is still very short of their (now much smaller) goal: currently 28,526 Euros out of a 50K goal.
I'm so thankful to everyone who has helped the campaign get this far, but sadly the situation only grows more urgent every day.
Nader's uphill battle against his family's nightmarish circumstances continues to get steeper. Food prices are continuing to skyrocket, and bombings from Israel are growing more frequent again as the Zionists throw away the former ceasefire agreements.
Any small amount you can share with Nader will provide some relief to him and his family.
Any difference you can make by sharing his campaign with your followers and your friends will bring this young man and his loved ones closer to safety and freedom.
Thank you, for anything you can do for Nader❤️
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helen-with-an-a · 2 months ago
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Tough
Misa Rodríguez x Reader
Description: R plays for Arsenal and Misa is there after the quarter-final first leg loss
Warnings: i wrote this during the Bayern match so if there are any typos and/or it's shit, I'm sorry.
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You couldn’t help but sigh as the final whistle went. You game had been shit. There were no two ways about it. You had been sloppy in defence and failed to capitalise when it mattered. And now you were facing an uphill battle next week. You felt your eyes begin to sting a little.
“Chin up, pet.” Katie smiled at you, throwing an arm around your shoulders.
“Not right now, Katie.” You sighed but leant against her anyways.
“It’s gonna be tough, but we can do it, ja?” Wally chimed in, her optimism not what you wanted to hear.
You just hummed noncommittally. You knew that it would be hard. You already knew that from the minute they had drawn Real Madrid’s name out of the pot. You didn’t need positivity right now.
All you needed was a shower and a mug of tea. And your girlfriend. And a good ole cuddle … in her nice warm bed that smelt like her … and made you feel all warm and safe … with her arms holding you all night as she played with your hair … and whispered sweet things about you in Spanish that you only half understood
God, you missed her.
You were tired and touchstaved and really, really missed your girlfriend.
“Bien jugado,” Caicedo smiled as you shook her hand.
“Igualmente,” you sighed, clapping her on the shoulder. You liked Linda. She was one of the nicer girls who happily spent some of her time showing you around the city as Misa pouted that she wasn’t getting your full attention.
You made your rounds, humming and fake smiling as you avoided the pitying looks from the Madrid players and the promises from your teammates that you could turn this around.
“Mi vida,” Misa smiled sheepishly at you, her dark eyebrows knitted together.
“Shut up,” you pouted, lifting your arms as you walked towards her.
“Lo siento?” She winced, afraid of your reaction. Would you hate her? You had the only shot on target for Arsenal all game – it was a spectacular short, looping in from the edge of the box aiming straight for the top corner. The net was just waiting to ripple. Except it didn’t. Misa’s glove had pushed it wide. It was some stunning goalkeeping. You couldn’t fault her. Your heart had sunk as it drifted past the post, the annoyance you felt more towards yourself than her.
“Shut up,” you grumbled again, this time wrapping your arms around her neck in a tight hug.
“I truly am sorry, mi vida.” She wasn’t even sure why she was apologising. It was quite literally her job to stop your shots. You sighed, feeling your feet leave the ground as she stood up to her full height.
“Mis, baby, my love. Stop talking,” you complained, wrapping your legs around her waist.
You didn’t care that you were still on the pitch. You didn’t care that you could feel the eyes of all your teammates. You didn’t care that probably a thousand cameras were on you. You didn’t care that this was probably being broadcasted around the world. You just needed Misa.
“Mi vida, honestly, you played … fabulosamente…”
“María,” you warned.
Usually, you loved Misa’s inability to stop talking, especially when you were able to hear her raspy voice and lilted English interspersed with Spanish. But right now, right this minute, you needed silence and a hug from your girlfriend. You buried your nose in her shoulder, inhaling the scent of the wet fabric, grass and something undeniably Misa.
“Lo siento,” she apologised again, her arms tightening against you.
“Shush,” you huffed again, melting into her.
“Bienvenido a casa,” Misa grinned at you, holding the door to her flat open. “Ladies first.”
“Such a gentleman,” you teased, lifting yourself up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to her cheek. “Gentlewoman?” you laughed again, dropping your bags in the hall.
You loved Misa’s flat. It was the perfect representation of her, all crisp lines and cozy colours. It was odd, that you had your home all the way back in London, and yet this space felt far more comforting than yours ever did. The fuzzy blankets and fruity candles adding to the perfect space. Despite you only living in it for a few weeks at a time, your influences were all over the flat. The Lego flowers you had made over Christmas sat pride of place in the vase on the coffee table, the blanket you had knitted (appallingly badly) was draped over the back of the sofa. Pictures of you and Misa littered the walls and spare surfaces. Your favourite one on the bookshelf. Misa had one of her hands tangled in your hair as she tilted your head up to look at her, the other resting and your hip. You were both mid-laugh, a lovesick gaze in your eye as Misa was obviously about to lean down and kiss you. You knew Misa’s favourite was on her nightstand in her bedroom. It was taken some time in the post-World Cup win, when you were finally celebrating alone. You had a bright red bikini top on, although it wasn’t really hiding much, and her gold medal glinting in the sunlight. From the angle she was sitting at, you could see your hands resting on her muscular thighs as you arched an eyebrow at her, trying to hide your smile. It had taken a lot of convincing, but you had finally managed to get her to keep the framed photograph hidden from public view.
“Do you want a shower, mi vida?” Misa’s voice was gentle in your ear, her hands running up and down your torse. You had already showered in the changing rooms before escaping for the night. But you knew that Misa wasn’t necessarily asking as a way to get clean.
It was one of your favourite ways of reconnecting. It was usually after a gym session in the off seasons when you were all hot and sweaty, or when you had finally returned from a day of tanning in the Spanish sunshine. Misa’s gentle hands doing far more than the cool water ever could to relax you.
“Mmhmm,” you sighed, leaning back into her.
“Buena,” She smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple.
The shower was perfect. The steam cleared your chest as Misa’s hands gently massaged your aching muscles. “I’m not lying when I said you played well, mi vida.”
“I know, baby. You can’t lie for shit,” You wiggled your eyebrow. “I’m just disappointed.” You mumbled as you ran your own hands over her toned stomach.
“Con quién?” Misa’s voice was as soft as a pillow.
“The team,” you shrugged. “Myself.”
“But you played well.” She leant down, pressing a long kiss to the side of your mouth.
“No, we didn’t.” You rolled your eyes. You knew you gave a sub-par performance tonight. You didn’t want her trying to sugarcoat it.
“The team, sure. Arsenal played like … como el culo.” She waited for your small little laugh. “But you, mi vida, your shot was good. I had to work hard to stop you. The whole of my backline did.”
“Agree to disagree?” You asked, hoping she would stop talking about the match.
“Nope,” She stuck her tongue out at you, sensing you needed the humour. “I am right, como siempre. You played well,” She took a step closer to you, her hands falling to your waist.
“and I’m going to spend,” She pressed you back against the shower tiles, the cold biting against your skin. “Toda la noche” she slotted her thigh in between yours. “Proving it to you.”
You blinked, your head reeling at the dizzying pace that Misa had switched on you.
“Sound good?”
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szariahwroteit · 4 months ago
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Doll House: A Jude Bellingham + Original Character Erotic Series
18+ Minors DNI
Chapter 8
Tori sluggishly moved through the door of Jude’s house, a heaviness enveloping her every step. The familiar aches coursed through her body, a reminder of the monthly cycle that still managed to catch her off guard even after more than a decade. Each time it arrived, it brought with it a wave of exhaustion and a delicate tenderness that pulsed throughout her limbs and breast. The emotional whirlwind swirled within her, creating a haze that made it hard to feel anything but lethargic and overwhelmed. As she crossed the threshold, the warmth of the space should have been inviting, but instead, it felt like an additional weight pressing down on her already weary spirit.
Her day at the studio had been one she wanted to soon forget, a ballet routine that she could usually execute in her sleep but today felt like an uphill battle. The familiar steps of the choreography slipped through her mind like droplets of water, and the graceful movements that once flowed effortlessly now felt cumbersome and strained. Tori had spent the entire afternoon forcing herself through en pointe exercises, but every jump and turn felt like an attempt to leap through fog. 
As she leaned against the door frame, letting out a weary sigh, the scent of Jude’s cologne lingered in the air, a comforting aroma that stirred memories of their previous encounters—their laughter, the shared warmth of his embrace, and the intimacy that had blossomed between them. Normally, that scent would envelop her in a comforting blanket, but today it only added to her growing sense of isolation.
Dragging her feet toward the living room, Tori felt the plush couch calling her name like a siren. There, beneath the coziness of a fuzzy blanket that had been draped over the back, she might find a moment of solace. But before she could sink into its embrace, she caught sight of Jude—the way the afternoon light framed him as he leaned against the kitchen counter, a mug cradled in his hand, and a look of concern etched across his face. 
Tori's breath hitched in her throat as Jude's eyes met hers, a world of unspoken words passing between them in a single glance. The concern in his gaze was palpable, and it stirred something deep within her, a longing to be held and comforted. Yet, the weight of her emotions made it difficult to cross the short distance between them.
"Hey," she whispered, her voice strained and tired. "I'm sorry I'm late. It's been a long day." 
She moved towards him, her steps heavy and deliberate, as if she were wading through quicksand. The exhaustion that had seeped into her bones made every movement an effort, and the tenderness in her body was a constant reminder of her monthly burden.
As she approached Jude, she allowed herself to lean into him, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. The warmth of his body enveloped her, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat was a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. She inhaled deeply, letting his familiar scent fill her lungs and calm her racing thoughts.
"I feel like I'm just going through the motions today," she confessed, her words muffled against his chest.
Jude's arms wrapped around her, grounding her as she leaned against him. "You don’t have to apologize for that," he replied softly, his voice warm and steady. "We all have days when everything feels... heavier than it should."
Tori closed her eyes, taking comfort in his embrace. It was as if Jude had a way of creating a cocoon around her, shielding her from the external chaos and the inner turmoil that threatened to overwhelm her. The steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek was a gentle reminder that she wasn't alone in this moment.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked after a few silent moments stretched between them. There was a kindness in his tone, a gentle encouragement that left her feeling safe. “Or we can just go upstairs and get in bed together?”
"I packed my overnight bag, but since my period started yesterday, I don’t think I’ll be able to stay," Tori explained.
“Why not?” Jude asked, a hint of concern flickering in his eyes.
Tori hesitated, feeling the weight of her emotions shift within her. "It's just... I don't want to be a burden," she replied softly, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze. "I feel so drained and out of it. I don’t want to ruin our time together."
“Do you think that just because it's your time of the month I wouldn't want to be around you?” Jude asked softly, his deep gaze locking onto Tori’s. As he spoke, his fingers gently traced the curves of her hips, pulling her body closer until the warmth between them intensified. The air around them seemed to pulse with an unspoken connection, his words wrapping around her like a comforting embrace.
In all honesty, Tori didn't know what Jude wanted but she assumed that their not being able to have sex would somewhat diminish his desire to be around her. 
“If I'm being honest I just wanted to get home from training and cuddle in bed, it's your mind that's in the gutter,” he smirked as his hands smoothed over her back comfortingly. 
Tori felt her cheeks warm under his teasing gaze, a flutter of excitement racing through her. “Cuddle, huh?” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, teasingly raising an eyebrow at him. It was hard to believe that such a simple notion could stir up such vivid fantasies in her mind.
“Yeah, cuddle,” Jude said, his tone playful yet sincere. “You know, just the two of us, wrapped up in blankets, talking about nothing and everything.” His fingers circled her waist, drawing her even closer until their bodies were almost melded together.
The prospect of being so close to him, of feeling his warmth without the pressure of expectation, made Tori's heart flutter. She wasn't entirely sure if it was the intimacy of the situation or the heat radiating from Jude that was making her pulse quicken.
“Okay, okay, I can do cuddling,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant but knowing full well that her heart didn't match her words. “But you’ve got to promise me no funny business.” 
With a playful grin, Jude leaned in, his lips brushing against her temple. “No promises,” he murmured softly, the playful glint in his eyes revealing that he enjoyed making her squirm.
The lighthearted banter took on a serious undertone as Tori's breath hitched. Despite her reservations, the chemistry between them was undeniable. Their bodies were inches apart, and the air crackled with a tension that felt electric. 
Jude tilted her chin gently, bringing their eyes to meet once more. “Tori,” he said, his voice steady but low, “I want you around,” 
Her heart raced at his words, each syllable sinking deep into her. It was a promise laced with desire, and the sincerity in his gaze left her breathless. She couldn’t help but lean into him, seeking comfort and connection, craving the warmth that emanated from his body.
Jude pressed a gentle, featherlight kiss to Tori's lips, the soft brush igniting a spark between them. With a tender smile, he intertwined his fingers with hers, leading her from the warm, inviting atmosphere of his kitchen. They walked through the expansive lower level of his house, where sunlight streamed through large windows, casting playful shadows on the polished hardwood floors. Each step was filled with anticipation as they climbed the staircase, the faint scent of fresh paint and polished wood enveloping them, until they finally reached the sanctuary of his bedroom, a space that promised intimacy and connection.
As the door closed behind them, Jude turned to Tori, his eyes darkening with intent. The ambiance shifted, charged with a palpable energy as he stepped closer, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around her waist. He leaned down, capturing her lips with his once more, this kiss deeper, more urgent, as if to convey the unspoken feelings that had been building up between them.
Tori's heart raced, and she felt a thrill shoot through her as Jude's fingers began to playfully tug at the hem of her shirt. “I want to see you,” he murmured against her lips, his breath warm and inviting. The way he said it sent shivers down her spine, igniting a warmth within her.
“Jude…” she started, a mixture of hesitation and desire lacing her voice. This was moving into uncharted territory.
“Trust me,” he whispered, his gaze locking onto hers, steady and sincere. “I just want to be close to you. You can keep the rest on, but let me take this off.” His fingers danced along the fabric, urging it up gently.
With a flutter in her stomach, Tori felt an undeniable pull to surrender to the moment. She nodded subtly, her breath catching as she felt the cool air brush against her skin. Jude’s fingers slid the fabric over her head, and she felt a wave of vulnerability wash over her, mixed with excitement.
Jude took a moment to drink her in, his gaze tracing every contour of her body as if memorizing the sight. “You’re beautiful,” he breathed, the sincerity in his voice sending heat pooling in her core.
With shaky breaths, Tori let herself be drawn into his embrace. Jude’s hands traveled up her sides, fingers finding her bare skin and trailing along her waist, just below her rib cage. She leaned into him, the heat of his body enveloping her as he pressed her gently back against the plush bedding behind them.
He gave her a playful smirk. “This isn't bad is it?” he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief, but there was also a tenderness in his touch that made Tori feel cherished. Jude lowered himself beside her, his body turning toward hers, as he pulled her closer.
Laying there with him, heart racing, Tori felt both a sense of safety and an unmistakable thrill. The material of the blankets was a contrast to the warmth of their skin, and she reveled in the feeling of being so close to him.
“How was your day?” Tori smiled softly as she raised her head to look at Jude. 
"Training with my teammates was good," Jude replied, his fingers absently tracing patterns on Tori's bare skin. "We worked on a few new skills and tactics. But this is so much better." He grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he leaned in closer, his lips nearly brushing against hers.
Tori felt a flutter in her chest at his words, a warmth spreading through her at the sincerity in his tone. "Oh yeah?" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "And why's that?"
Jude's hand slid from her waist to the small of her back, pulling her even closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "Because I get to do this," he whispered, before capturing her lips with his in a scorching kiss.
It was a kiss that spoke of desire, of a longing that had been building between them. Tori melted into it, her hands coming up to tangle in Jude's hair as she tilted her head to deepen the connection. She could feel the heat of his body, the strength in his embrace, and it made her toes curl.
Pulling away Jude's hand stayed firmly planted on the small of Tori's back, engulfing her further as he leisurely placed his leg over the top of hers. 
“How was your day?” Jude asked, placing a soft kiss on Tori's collarbone.
“Good… but emotional,” Tori revealed to Jude who looked down at her with a furrowed brow and curious eyes. 
“What happened?” he asked cautiously as his hold on her tightened. 
“Girl stuff,” she replied, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips despite the undercurrent of vulnerability in her voice. "It gets like that sometimes. One minute I’m fine, and the next I’m crying in a bathroom stall."
Jude’s gaze softened, his expression a mixture of concern and warmth. “You can tell me anything, Tori. I’m here, remember?” 
She could feel the sincerity in his words washing over her, comforting her in a way that made her heart swell. “It’s nothing too serious, I'm okay.”
Jude nodded slowly, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. “Still, I want you to know that I’m here if you need to talk. Or even if you just want to vent. You don’t have to hold anything back with me.”
Tori smiled, appreciating his earnestness. The intimacy of their conversation wrapped around her like a soft blanket, making her feel safe enough to share her thoughts. “Thanks, Jude. That means a lot,” she replied, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw as she leaned closer.
“Do you miss your family?” Jude asked, his voice piercing the air with an unexpected tenderness. Tori felt her stomach twist uncomfortably at the question, a sudden wave of emotion washing over her, even though she had managed to rein in her tears while at the studio earlier, attributing the turmoil to her fluctuating hormones. It was as if Jude could sense the deeper, unspoken turmoil beneath her composed exterior, a silent acknowledgment of her hidden pain.
The only time she had ever brought up her family to Jude it was to tell him that she'd be staying in Spain instead of flying home to Atlanta for Christmas. 
Although Jude's mother had made the move to Madrid with him upon joining Real Madrid and he had friends all throughout the city, sometimes even he felt a little homesick. He could only imagine how lonely Tori felt, and the thought made him sad.
Tori took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. “Sometimes,” she admitted softly, her gaze drifting to the ceiling as she recalled her family. “But things are a bit complicated right now.”
Jude watched her, his expression tender as he listened intently. “Do you mind me asking why?” he replied, his tone soothing.
“They didn't support me moving from Atlanta to Madrid for ballet,” Tori revealed, a lump forming in her throat as she thought about the last conversation she’d had with her parents the day before her move. 
“I haven't spoken to my parents or siblings since the day before I moved here around nine months ago,” she continued. 
Jude's brow furrowed in concern as he processed her words. “That sounds really tough, Tori. I can’t imagine how hard that must be for you,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over her arm in a comforting gesture.
Tori felt the weight of his empathy wash over her, but she couldn’t help the sting of disappointment that lingered within her. “It just hurts sometimes, you know? I thought they would be proud of me for chasing my dreams, but instead, they... they just shut me out,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.
Jude nodded, his gaze unwavering as he listened to her. He couldn't even imagine a world where his parents and brother weren't a constant in his life, yet this was her reality; this was the weight she carried on her shoulders.
And she carried it so gratefully, without complaint. 
“I didn't go home for Christmas because I wasn't invited,” Tori continued, her voice steady but tinged with an uncharacteristic vulnerability that made her heart ache. “It was just too painful to face my family and feel their disappointment.”
Jude's grip on her tightened as he processed her words. “Tori,” he began softly, “I know it might not mean much coming from me, but you are incredibly brave. Pursuing your passion takes courage, and it's understandable that not everyone will see it the way you do.” 
His deep gaze never wavered, and for a moment, Tori found solace in his presence. “Thank you,” she whispered, grateful that he didn’t judge her or her feelings. “It just gets overwhelming sometimes.”
“Then talk to me,” Jude offered, his eyes shining with sincerity.
“The last thing I want to do is offload my problems on you and scare you away.” Tori bit her lip, her playful tone faltering as vulnerability seeped back into the room. 
Jude’s expression softened, his hand gently cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing the skin lightly. “Tori, you could never scare me away. I want to know you—the real you, with all your ups and downs. It’s okay to be human and feel emotions.” 
His sincerity wrapped around her like a warm blanket, melting away the last of her reservations. She searched his eyes for any hint of insincerity but found none—only a steadfast assurance that made her heart skip a beat.
“Okay,” she breathed, finding comfort in his acceptance. “I guess I just worry that I’ll end up pushing you away.” 
The corners of Jude’s lips curled into a teasing smile. “The sex is too good, you can't get rid of me that easily.”
Tori let out a soft laugh, the tension in her shoulders easing at his playful remark. “You’re sick,” she said, shaking her head with a smile.
Jude's eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned closer, his lips barely brushing against hers. “It's your fault,” he rasped. 
Tori's heart raced at his words, the playful banter igniting a spark of warmth within her. "My fault?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow playfully. "How do I bear the responsibility for your insatiable desire?"
Jude chuckled, his deep voice rumbling against her ear as he closed the gap between them. "Because you are the one who makes it so difficult to think of anything else," he murmured, his lips brushing against her skin, sending shivers down her spine.
“Even when I'm on my period?” Tori smirked. 
“Especially when you're on your period, I want to fuck you so bad,” Jude said, his voice low and playful, a teasing grin spreading across his face.
Tori felt her cheeks flush at his boldness, caught off guard by the raw honesty of his words. "Jude!" she exclaimed, half-laughing, half-embarrassed. "You can't just say that!"
He shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Why not? It’s the truth. I can't help it if you’re irresistible, even when you’re feeling less than your best."
Tori rolled her eyes, but the fluttering in her stomach told her that she secretly loved the way he made her feel. "You’re incorrigible," she said, trying to sound stern but failing miserably as a smile crept onto her lips.
"Maybe," Jude replied, leaning in closer, his breath warm against her skin. "But I think you like it."
She couldn’t argue with that. There was something about Jude's confidence, his unwavering desire for her, that made her feel alive. Tori found herself drawn to him, her heart racing as she leaned into his embrace, relishing the closeness.
"Okay, enough about that," she said, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "What do you want to do instead?"
Jude's eyes sparkled with mischief as he pondered her question. "Well, we could cuddle like we planned," he suggested, his tone playful, "but I wouldn’t be opposed to some more kissing."
Tori bit her lip, considering his words. The idea of simply cuddling felt comforting, but the thought of kissing him again sent a thrill coursing through her. 
Following that intimate evening spent in Jude's home, a lingering sense of anticipation hung in the air. Nearly a week slipped by, marked by a noticeable absence on both sides, before fate finally woven their paths together once more, bringing them back into each other's atmosphere.
Tori smiled politely as she made her way through the Santiago Bernabéu Stadium, towards her seat in the stands a thick knitted scarf wrapped around her neck in an attempt to escape the winter chill. 
As she settled into her seat, the buzz of the crowd around her pulsed with excitement, but Tori couldn’t shake the memories of her last meeting with Jude. The way he had held her, the warmth of his gaze, and the thrill of their playful banter stayed with her, igniting butterflies in her stomach.
The bright lights of the stadium illuminated the field as the players warmed up, and Tori found herself scanning the lineup, anticipating Jude's entrance. The atmosphere was electric, and her heart raced, not just from the excitement of the match but from the thought of seeing him again.
Moments later, the players emerged, and there he was—Jude, effortlessly charismatic, with a confident stride that made her pulse quicken. He caught sight of her in the stands, and the corner of his mouth tilted into a familiar smirk. Their eyes locked, and for a brief moment, the chaos of the stadium faded away, leaving just the two of them in an unspoken connection. 
Jude jogged over to the sideline, glancing over his shoulder at her as he waved playfully, his excitement bubbling over. The warmth of his smile sent a thrill through her, and she returned the gesture with a wave, her heart swelling with affection.
As the match began, Tori found herself completely engrossed in the game, her cheers mingling with those of the crowd around her. But she couldn't help stealing glances at Jude as he wove through defenders with finesse, every movement a testament to his skill. Each time he caught her eye, it was like their own secret dance amidst the chaos of the stadium—an electrifying connection that left her breathless.
Tori was in awe as Jude made his way across the field, his energy radiating like sunshine. He played with a fierce determination, every sprint and kick showcasing the athleticism that had drawn her to him in the first place. Yet it was the glimpses of his playful side—those moments when he teased his teammates or shot her a quick smile—that made her heart flutter.
As the game progressed, the tension in the stadium climbed, the fans erupting into fits of cheers and gasps. Tori felt herself getting swept up in the crowd’s energy, but her heart raced not just from the match—Jude’s presence was a potent elixir that enchanted her. She felt connected to him in a way that transcended just being a fan; she was part of something greater, a vivid pulse of excitement shared between them.
When the halftime whistle blew, Jude jogged over to the sidelines, pulling off his jersey that was accidentally ripped during play and wiping the perspiration from his brow. Tori caught his eye again, and he flashed her a grin—winking at her before tossing his shirt towards a group of young boys who sat close to the tunnel before disappearing through it. 
Tori couldn’t help but laugh along with the rest of the crowd as the boys jumped up to snag the jersey, their cheers mixing with the pulsating excitement of the stadium. It was a testament to Jude’s charisma—not just in his skill on the field, but in the way he connected with fans, especially the young ones who idolized him. Her heart swelled with pride at being associated with someone so genuine.
As the game resumed, Tori settled back into her seat, anticipation buzzing in her veins. She was captivated by the intensity of the match, but her thoughts often drifted to Jude—how he had held her the last time they were together, the warmth of his body against hers, and the whispers of affection that lingered in the air. Between his playful teasing and sincere moments, he had etched a place in her heart that she never expected.
Real Madrid walked away from the match with a win, celebrations ringing through the stadium as Jude and his teammates advanced into yet another cup final. 
As the stadium stands began to empty, Tori made her way down to the players’ tunnel, her heart racing with excitement and anticipation. She navigated through the throngs of fans, the atmosphere buzzing with joy as people clamored to grab a piece of memorabilia or catch a glimpse of their favorite players. The energy pulsating in the air filled her with hope, but it was Jude she longed to see again.
As she reached the entrance to the tunnel, the laughter and cheers of the crowd faded into the background. Tori felt a rush of nerves and anticipation as she spotted Jude, who was just stepping out from the locker room, still in his shorts and an undershirt, his hair slightly damp with sweat. He looked effortlessly handsome, his glare only softened by a grin when he spotted her.
“Tori!” he called out, his smile dazzling in the bright stadium lights. He jogged over to her, wiping the remaining sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “Thank you for coming!”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she replied, her heart fluttering at the sight of him. The warmth of his body felt magnetic, and she couldn’t help but be pulled into his orbit.
“Did you enjoy the game?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. 
“Absolutely! You played amazing,” Tori exclaimed, her enthusiasm bubbling over. “I was on the edge of my seat the entire time.”
Jude laughed, a deep, natural sound that made her smile. “Thank you! It’s always great to perform well, especially when I have someone special watching,” he said, a teasing grin creeping across his face as he leaned slightly closer. 
Tori felt her cheeks heat up at his words, butterflies swirling in her stomach. “I wouldn’t say I’m that special,” she replied, trying to play it cool, but the way he was looking at her made her pulse quicken.
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Jude said, his voice low and sincere. “Having you in the stands is  motivation.“
That admission sent a rush of warmth cascading through Tori, igniting her nerves and excitement in equal measure. “I’m not sure how I could be any motivation when it feels like I’m just sitting here in awe of you,” she teased back, her smile widening as she met his gaze.
“Trust me, you’re more motivating than you think,” Jude replied, stepping even closer, their bodies almost touching. The heat radiating from him sent a shiver down her spine. 
Before she could respond, he leaned in, brushing his lips gently against her cheek, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. Tori felt her breath hitch, and as she turned her head slightly, their lips almost brushed together.
Just then, a boisterous laugh rang out, pulling Jude and Tori from their trance as they turned to find his teammate Kylian walking towards them, a playful grin on his face. 
“Are you guys coming out tonight?” he asked, his French accent thick as he threw his arm around Jude’s shoulders squeezing him excitedly. 
Jude chuckled, regaining his composure as he glanced at Tori. “Nah, I need Tori for myself,” he replied, his voice dripping with charm.
He knew a night out with his teammates would be fun; the city was theirs no matter where they went. However, he was in search of something a little more intimate for the night.
Kylian felt a mischievous smile tug at the corners of his lips as he watched the subtle dance of their body language. Jude's hand rested on Tori's hip, the gesture both casual and possessive, conveying a sense of ownership and intimacy. Meanwhile, Tori's body instinctively leaned toward him, almost as if it were drawn by an invisible force. The chemistry between them was palpable; it was clear they shared an unspoken understanding that went far beyond words, their connection weaving together their minds and bodies in a way that only those deeply familiar with one another could achieve.
Kylian cleared his throat dramatically, drawing both of their attention. “Well, if you’re going to keep her all to yourself, at least bring her along next time,” he said, winking at Tori. “I can guarantee you won’t regret it.”
Tori couldn’t help but laugh at Kylian’s playful nature, enjoying the light-hearted banter. “I’m sure I’d have a blast, but I think Jude has other plans for us tonight,” she replied, her gaze flickering back to Jude.
A knowing smile spread across Kylian’s face, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he excused himself, turning on his heel before leaving them alone again.
“You’re cute,” Tori blushed, her cheeks warm as a result of his words, the way he so openly chose to spend his evening at home with her instead of enjoying a night out with his teammate’s.
“You think so?” Jude smirked knowingly. 
“Oh, one-hundred percent,” Tori replied, her smile widening as she felt a rush of confidence. The warmth in Jude’s eyes made her heart race, and she could feel the weight of anticipation settling between them.
“Good,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Because I was hoping to show you just how much I appreciate having you here tonight.” 
Tori felt her breath hitch, excitement bubbling up inside her. “What do you have in mind?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.
Jude stepped closer, the heat radiating off him sending shivers down her spine. “How about we go back to my place, and just enjoy each other’s company? No distractions, just us.” 
The invitation sent a thrill through her. “That sounds perfect,” she replied, her heart fluttering with anticipation. 
“Give me a second to shower and change and we’ll be on our way,” Jude said with a wink, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He turned and jogged back toward the locker room, leaving Tori standing there, her heart racing at the thought of spending the evening alone with him.
As she waited, Tori's mind raced with possibilities. The idea of being alone with Jude again, of feeling his warmth and sharing intimate moments, made her pulse quicken. She couldn’t help but replay their last encounter, the way he had held her, the kisses that had ignited something deep within her.
A short while later, Jude returned, fresh from the shower, his hair damp. He wore a simple fitted t-shirt that accentuated his athletic build and a pair of joggers that hinted at the strength in his legs. The sight of him took Tori's breath away. He looked effortlessly handsome, and she could feel her cheeks flush as he approached her.
“Ready?” he asked, a playful smile tugging at his lips.
“More than ready,” Tori replied, her heart fluttering as they walked side by side, their hands still intertwined. The warmth of Jude’s presence enveloped her, and she felt a giddy excitement bubbling within her as they made their way out of the stadium to the players’ parking garage. 
As they stepped outside, the cool evening air greeted them, a refreshing contrast to the warmth they had just shared. Tori felt a thrill of anticipation as they walked toward Jude's car, the city lights twinkling in the distance, casting a magical glow over the bustling streets of Madrid.
Jude opened the passenger door for her, a charming smile on his face. “After you,” he said with a playful bow, and Tori couldn’t help but laugh as she slid into the seat. 
Once Jude settled into the driver’s seat, he turned to her, his expression softening. “Thank you for coming tonight,” he said, his voice sincere. “It means a lot to me.”
Tori felt her heart swell at his words. “Thank you for inviting me,” she replied, her gaze locking onto his. The connection between them felt electric, and she could sense the unspoken bond that had grown stronger with each passing moment.
As they drove through the city, the streets alive with energy, Tori found herself stealing glances at Jude, admiring the way he focused on the road, the way his jawline tightened with concentration. The atmosphere in the car was charged with anticipation, and she could feel the butterflies in her stomach fluttering wildly.
When they arrived at Jude’s house, he parked the car and turned to her, a lustful glint in his eyes. “Come here,” he murmured as he leaned back in his seat, knees spread shoulder-width apart as waited for her. 
Tori felt a wave of heat wash over her, recognizing the invitation hidden in his voice. Biting her lip, she shifted forward in her seat, heart racing as she leaned towards him, drawn to the closeness that seemed to pulse between them. 
As she offered a shy smile, Jude's gaze darkened with something primal and hungry. The intensity in his eyes sent a thrill coursing through her, igniting a desire that had been smoldering since their last encounter. In one swift movement, he reached out, grasping her waist and pulling her into his lap, his touch sending jolts of electric dancing along her skin.
“Jude…” she breathed, her heart pounding wildly as she shifted even closer, their breaths mingling in the small space. 
“Tori,” he whispered, his voice low and husky, a seductive promise lacing each syllable. His hands rested firmly on her hips, fingers tracing the curves of her body as if memorizing every contour.
“I want you,” Tori whispered breathlessly, her nipples hardening through the T-shirt she wore as her body arched into his, craving him instinctively. 
“I want you to,” Jude agreed roughly, causing a soft gasp to tumble Tori’s lips as he gripped the flesh of her ass. “But I want to try something tonight,” he explained, instantly making Tori curious. 
“What is it?” She asked as their eyes met. 
“Have you ever used a vibrator?” Jude asked directly, a teasing glint in his eyes that made Tori shiver with anticipation. 
“I’ve used one before,” she admitted, biting her lip at the boldness of his question. The truth was, she had, but the thought of introducing that element into their intimate moments sent a rush of heat through her. 
“Good,” he said, his voice dropping lower, “Have you ever had someone use a vibrator on you?” 
“No,” Tori breathed, feeling her cheeks flush in the direction of the conversation. A thrill of excitement shot through her, mingling with a sense of nervousness that made her pulse race.
“Would you want to?” Jude asked, his eyes locking onto hers, a mixture of desire and genuine curiosity in his expression. The way he looked at her made her heart race and the air between them thickened with tension.
Tori's breath hitched in her throat as she processed his question. The thought of letting Jude take control in such an intimate way was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. She could feel the heat pooling in her core, a deep flush spreading through her veins.
“Yes,” she admitted, biting her lip as she weighed the implications of what he was suggesting.
The admission sent a thrill through Tori, igniting a fire of anticipation that coursed through her veins. The idea of letting Jude guide her with a vibrator, to explore new intimate territories with him, was both enticing and terrifying. It implied trust, vulnerability, and a deeper level of intimacy that she was both eager and apprehensive to explore.
Jude's eyes lit up with a mixture of excitement and approval, sensing her eagerness. "Good," he said, his voice husky with desire. "When we get inside, I want you to head upstairs to my bedroom, remove your clothes and wait for me there.” Jude explained.
Tori felt her breath catch in her throat at Jude's directive, a wave of warmth washing over her as the suggestion sank in. The idea of being so exposed, waiting for him to join her, sent electric thrills coursing through her body. The anticipation was almost palpable, stirring a mix of excitement and nervousness deep within her.
“Okay,” she managed to say, her voice trembling slightly with a mix of eagerness and apprehension. 
As they stepped inside Jude's house, her heart raced with every step toward the staircase. Tori was acutely aware of Jude's presence behind her, the heat radiating from him igniting something primal within her. She allowed herself to glance back at him, catching a glimpse of his hungry gaze as it lingered on her, and she felt an exhilarating shiver travel down her spine.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Tori hesitated for just a moment, taking a deep breath to steady her racing heart. She silently reminded herself that this was a space they had created together—a space that thrived on trust and adventure. With that thought in mind, she pushed open the door to Jude’s bedroom, stepping inside.
The room was softly lit, creating an intimate atmosphere that heightened her senses. The bed was large and inviting, the sheets rumpled slightly as if Jude had just been waiting for her to arrive. Tori felt a rush of exhilaration knowing she was about to share something deeply personal with him.
She turned her back to the door and, with trembling fingers, began to peel off her clothes, letting them drop to the floor. The cool air against her skin sent shivers throughout her body, amplifying her awareness of every soft caress of the fabric and the gentle brush of air. The moment she was naked, she felt a surge of vulnerability mixed with exhilaration.
Taking a moment to admire the soft glow of the room and the plush sheets of the bed, Tori climbed onto it, settling in the center and propping herself against the pillows. Almost immediately, she felt her heart race at the prospect of Jude joining her, and the anticipation made her pulse quicken.
As if on cue, the door swung open, and Jude stepped inside. His gaze swept over her hungrily, the sight of her bare form eliciting a deep, satisfied growl from his throat. 
“God, you’re stunning,” he breathed, a mixture of admiration and desire lighting up his features. 
Tori felt her cheeks warm at his compliment, a heady mix of shyness and pride washing over her. “Thank you,” she replied softly, her heart fluttering wildly in her chest. 
Jude approached the bed with a purposeful stride, a predatory grace in his movements. He knelt beside her, his eyes fierce and filled with an intense longing as his fingers grazed her thigh. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, his voice low and sultry.
“Yes,” Tori whispered, a wave of excitement cascading over her as she anticipated what was to come.
“Good,” he said, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he reached for a small, sleek vibrator sitting on the bedside table as if it were anticipating her arrival. It was a small silver device, glinting under the soft light of the room, and Tori felt her pulse quicken at the sight of it. The idea of Jude using that on her was both thrilling and nerve-wracking.
“Tell me what you want, Tori,” Jude said, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers racing down her spine. “I want you to feel amazing.”
Tori met his gaze, her heart pounding with excitement. "I want to do whatever you want me to," she replied breathlessly, her submission to him as natural as breathing. 
“Lay back,” Jude commanded gently, his tone both authoritative and inviting. Tori felt a rush of exhilaration at his words, and without hesitation, she reclined against the pillows, surrendering herself to the moment.
Jude's eyes gleamed with approval as he watched her, a sly smile spreading across his face. He knelt beside her, the vibrator still in his hand, and leaned closer. The warmth of his body radiated towards her, and she could feel the anticipation crackling in the air between them. 
“You trust me?” he asked, searching her eyes as if confirming their deeper connection.
“Yes,” she answered, her voice steady despite the rapid thumping of her heart. She gave him a shy smile, feeling both vulnerable and empowered by the moment.
“Good,” he said, his voice low and sultry. “I want you to let go and enjoy it.” With that, he switched the vibrator on, the soft hum filling the space between them. 
Tori's breath hitched at the sound, her senses heightened as she concentrated on the soft vibrations. Jude moved closer, placing the device against her thigh, ensuring she could feel the warmth radiating from it.
“Just relax,” he instructed, trailing the vibrator teasingly closer where she needed him most. 
Tori let out a wild moan, her thighs squeezing shut around Jude's hand as he held the small silver vibrator firmly against her clit. Pushing her legs back open, he let out a groan as he watched a bead of her arousal drip from her pussy to the flesh above her puckered second hole.
Her nipples hardened against the warm air of Jude's bedroom, and her toes curled against the plush comforter as he circled her clit. 
Tori's breathy moans filled the room as Jude's skilled fingers worked their magic, the vibrator's gentle buzzing sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. Her back arched, pressing her aching nipples against the cool air, craving more of his touch. 
"Ohh, Jude..." she purred, her voice thick with desire. "That feels so good, baby. Don't stop."
Her thighs trembled, the muscles taut and quivering with building ecstasy. Tori's hips undulated, seeking more of that delicious friction against her throbbing clit. She could feel her wetness dripping, coating her inner thighs with her arousal.
Tori's eyes fluttered open, locking with Jude's intense gaze. The raw hunger she saw there made her pussy clench with need. "I need you," she whimpered, reaching for him. "Please, I want to feel you inside me."
“Not yet,” Jude said, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he relished in her desperation. “Have you ever been made to squirt before?” He asked, his fingers expertly manoeuvred the vibrator, adjusting the pressure and speed, finding the perfect rhythm that had Tori whimpering. 
Tori’s breath hitched at the wicked question, her mind swirling with anticipation. She had heard the whispers of pleasure that came from such an experience but had never truly felt it for herself. “No...,” she gasped, her body craving the unknown depths of ecstasy he was offering.
“Can I teach you how?” he rasped. 
Tori's body trembled with anticipation, the vibrator's relentless buzzing sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her veins. She gazed up at Jude, her eyes dark with desire, silently begging for more. "Yes," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please, show me."
Jude's fingers danced over her sensitive flesh, the silver device eliciting gasps and moans from Tori's parted lips. He could feel her thighs quivering, her body teetering on the brink of something new and profound. "That's it, baby," he coaxed, his arousal growing as he watched her come undone beneath his touch. "Let go. Let me feel you."
Abruptly pulling the vibrator from her, Jude singled out the middle and right finger on his right hand and curved them into her. Tori's hips bucked wildly, her back arching off the bed as an intense pressure built deep within her core.
Tori's body trembled, her inner muscles clenching around Jude's fingers as he expertly worked her towards the unknown brink of squirting. His touch was electric, every nerve ending in her body crackling with anticipation. 
"Yes, Jude!" she cried out, her voice high and breathy. "Don't stop, I'm so close!"
Her thighs quivered uncontrollably, the plush comforter bunching beneath her hips as she ground herself against his hand. Tori could feel the pressure building, a deep ache spreading through her core. 
"I...I think I'm going to..." She trailed off, her words dissolving into a long, keening moan.
With a final curl of his fingers, Jude sent Tori careening over the edge. Her body seized, back arching almost painfully as a gush of liquid heat flooded from her core. Tori's cry of ecstasy echoed through the room, her vision whiting out as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over her.
As she slowly floated back down, aftershocks still sparking through her nerves, Tori gazed up at Jude with hazy, adoring eyes. The things he did to her body were sinful, yet they brought about feeling as pure as white roses. 
“You’re so fucking sexy,” Jude groaned as he placed a teasing spank on her pussy, crawling between her legs so he could lick from her swollen clit to her dripping, reddened entrance and back again. 
Tori's body shuddered, her thighs falling open in lustful invitation as Jude's tongue glided through her slick folds. She whimpered at the sensation, her sensitive flesh sparking with aftershocks of her intense release. 
Slurping on her essence, Jude hummed against Tori's pussy as he pushed his face further into her, pinning her legs to the bed as he feasted.
“Cum in my mouth first,” he murmured against her, the vibration of his voice sending a shock directly to the ever-tightening knot in her stomach that threatened to come undone with every lick, suck, probe and slurp. 
Jude was intoxicated by Tori, ravenous as he ate her as if she were the sweetest delicacy he'd ever tasted. 
Tori trembled, her body still tingling from Jude's expert ministrations. She gazed down at him, his head buried between her trembling thighs as he feasted on her like a man starved. The sight of him, so utterly focused on her pleasure, sent a fresh wave of arousal crashing over her.
"Yes, Jude," she breathed, her fingers tangling in his hair as she urged him closer. "Your mouth feels so good. Don't stop."
Tori's back arched as Jude's tongue delved deeper, probing her slick entrance. The wet sounds of his feasting filled the room, obscenely erotic. She could feel another orgasm building, her body tightening with each flick and suck of his tongue.
"That's it, baby," Jude murmured against her flesh, the vibration of his voice pushing her closer to the edge. "Cum for me. I want to taste you."
Jude's tongue flicked over Tori's sensitive clit, the wet muscle teasing the swollen bud as he lapped at her dripping arousal. He could feel her thighs trembling, her body tensing as she teetered on the brink of another explosive climax.
"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his voice muffled against her slick flesh. "Let go. Cum in my mouth."
Jude sealed his lips around Tori's clit, sucking hard as he plunged two fingers deep into her fluttering channel. He curled them just so, stroking that sensitive, cushiony spot deep inside that made her see the colours of the universe.
Tori cried out, her body convulsing as the intense pleasure crashed over her. Her pussy clenched around Jude's fingers, pulsing as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. She could feel her juices flooding his mouth, coating his chin as he gluttonously drank every drop.
"Oh God, Jude!" she whimpered as her hips bucked against his mouth. Her voice was ragged, barely a whisper as she panted, "You're making me cum so hard, baby."
Jude growled in approval, his tongue working in slow, languid strokes as he savored the taste of her. With a final flick of his tongue against her clit, he sent a shiver coursing through Tori's body, prolonging the exquisite sensations coursing through her veins.
As her aftershocks subsided, Jude slowly pulled back, his lips glistening with her arousal. Licking his fingers clean, he met Tori's gaze, Hunger still burning in his eyes. "You're fucking exquisite, Tori. I need more."
His voice was thick with desire, the strain of his control evident in the tone. He reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it off in one swift motion, revealing the hard lines of his physique. "I want to feel you,"
Pulling off his pants and briefs in one swift motion, Jude kicked them aside before walking over to his nightstand to grab a condom.
“I want you in my mouth first,” Tori interjected as Jude went to rip open the wrapper, sitting up on her forearms as she eyed Jude hungrily. 
“Come here,” he commanded, his voice taking a lustfully sinister edge as he stood waiting for her to heed him. 
Tori rose from the bed, her body still tingling with aftershocks of her intense orgasms. She padded across the plush carpet, her movements sensual and deliberate as she walked over to Jude. Her eyes never left his, dark with desire.
"Like this?" she purred, sinking to her knees before him. 
Her hands trailed up his muscular thighs, tracing the hard lines of his physique. Tori could feel his arousal pressing against her cheek, the heat of him making her mouth water with anticipation. 
"Yes," Jude rasped, his voice strained with control. "Just like that, baby."
Tori's fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, stroking him slowly as she gazed up at him through her lashes. She could see the hunger burning in his eyes, the raw need for her. It sent a thrill through her body, knowing she had such power over him.
Leaning forward, Tori flicked her tongue out, tracing the ridge of his cockhead. She could taste the salty sweetness of his precum, and it made her want more. Opening her mouth, she took him in, her lips sealing around his girth as she began to suck.
"Fuck," Jude groaned, roughly gathering her hair in his hands. “Make a mess for me, Tori.”
Tori moaned around Jude's thick shaft, the taste and scent of his arousal flooding her senses. She bobbed her head, taking him deeper with each movement. Her tongue swirled around his length, tracing the thick veins that pulsed with need.
Jude's grip on her hair tightened, guiding her movements as he thrust into her mouth. The wet, obscene sounds of her suckling filled the room, mingling with their shared moans of pleasure. Tori could feel his arousal growing, his cock throbbing against her tongue.
"Take it all, baby," Jude growled, his hips snapping forward. "I want to feel your throat."
Tori relaxed her jaw, letting Jude's length slide deeper into her mouth. She could feel him hitting the back of her throat, the head of his cock nudging her tonsils. Her throat convulsed, muscles fluttering around his girth as she swallowed.
"Fuck, your mouth feels incredible," Jude rasped, his voice strained with pleasure. "Look at me, baby. I want to see those pretty eyes as you suck my cock."
Tori gazed up at Jude, her eyes watering as she struggled to breathe around his thick length. She could feel him throbbing in her mouth, his arousal growing with each bob of her head. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, tongue swirling around his girth.
"I’m fucking obsessed with you," Jude groaned, his hips snapping forward and stilling. "Swallow my cock, make a mess on it.”
Tori's eyes fluttered open, locking with Jude's intense gaze as he held her head still against his cock. She could see the raw hunger burning in his eyes, the strain of his control evident in the tight clench of his jaw. 
Swallowing around his length, Tori's throat constricted, muscles massaging his shaft as she took him deep. She could feel his arousal growing, the head of his cock nudging the back of her throat. 
"Fuck, baby," Jude groaned, his voice thick with desire. "Just like that. Swallow my cock."
Tori hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard as she bobbed her head. Her tongue swirled around his girth, tracing the thick veins that pulsed with need. The wet, obscene sounds of her suckling filled the room, mingling with their shared moans of pleasure.
She could feel Jude's arousal growing, his cock throbbing against her tongue. His grip on her hair tightened as he guided her movements, thrusting into her mouth. Tori's own arousal was building, her pussy clenching with each thrust of his hips.
Tori was a mess of saliva as Jude had his way with her mouth and throat, spit dripping from her chin onto her breast and the carpet below creating small darker stained puddles that would soon dry, concealing their rendezvous. 
Tori gazed up at Jude through watery eyes, her cheeks hollowed around his thick shaft as she sucked hard. The taste of him flooded her senses, salty and musky. She could feel his cock throbbing against her tongue, the veins pulsing with need.
Her own arousal was growing, her pussy clenching with each thrust of his hips. Tori reached between her thighs, fingers delving into her slick folds as she pleasured herself. She could feel her juices coating her fingers, smearing the evidence of her desire.
Jude's grip on her hair tightened, guiding her movements as he thrust into her mouth. The wet, nasty sounds of her suckling filled the room, mingling with their shared moans of pleasure. Tori could feel Jude's arousal growing, his cock swelling against her tongue.
"Fuck, baby," Jude groaned, his voice thick with desire as he pulled himself from tori’s mouth, clutching himself in his hand, snarling as he watched a string of saliva stretch for her lips to the head of his cock. 
“Get on the bed,” Jude growled as he slowly ran his hand tip to base, back and forth along his strained cock. 
Tori's gaze followed the movement of Jude's hand, her own body responding to the visual stimulus with a renewed wave of desire. The muscles in her abdomen clenched, and she could feel a fresh wave of wetness coating her inner thighs. She bit her lower lip, fighting back a needy whimper.
"Come here," Tori breathed, her voice thick with want. "I need you, Jude."
Jude stalked towards the bed, his movements predatory as he loomed over Tori's prone form. He placed one knee on the mattress, his other foot still firmly on the floor as he positioned himself between her spread thighs. 
Tori could feel the heat of his skin, the hard lines of his muscles as he settled into place. She reached out, her fingers skimming over his chest, tracing the ridges and valleys of his physique.
"I want to feel you inside me," she whimpered, her hips tilting upward in a silent plea.
Tori gazed up at Jude, her eyes dark with unspoken need. She could feel the heat of his skin, the hard muscles rippling beneath her fingertips as she traced his physique. Her thighs fell open in invitation, revealing the glistening pink of her arousal.
"Please, baby," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need to feel you inside me."
Jude's length nudged against her slick entrance, the head of his cock catching on her swollen clit. Tori's back arched, a gasp tumbling from her lips at the contact. 
"You’re so fucking wet for me," Jude groaned, his hips snapping forward to sheath himself fully within her tight heat.
Tori cried out, her body stretching deliciously around his girth. She could feel every thick inch of him as he filled her, the stretch bordering on painful but so pleasurable. Her nails raked down his back, urging him deeper.
Tori's cry of pleasure echoed through the room as Jude hilted himself fully within her. Her walls spasming around his length, adjusting to the delicious stretch. She could feel every pulsing inch of him, the heat of his skin searing against her own.
"God, Jude," she whimpered, her hips tilting upward to meet his. "You feel so good inside me."
Jude groaned, his lips finding the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. He nipped at the tender skin, soothing the sting with his tongue. 
"You're so tight, baby," he rasped, his voice thick with desire. "Like you were made just for me."
Tori's hands found purchase on Jude's back, her nails digging into the hard muscles as he began to move. He withdrew until just the tip remained before slamming back in, and repeating the action.
"Yes, Jude," she keened, her hips rising to meet his every thrust. "Harder, please."
Jude complied, his thrusts becoming more forceful, more demanding. The headboard slammed against the wall, the sound mingling with their shared moans of unadulterated pleasure.
Tori let out a desperate gasp as Jude pulled his length from her, abruptly flipping her onto her stomach and grabbing a pillow from the head of the bed so he could force it beneath her stomach, raising her ass and hips some. 
“Reach back and spread it open for me,” Jude instructed, his voice husky with desire. 
Tori reached back, her fingers parting her slick folds to reveal her pink core, glistening with arousal. Jude's gaze zeroed in on the tantalizing sight, his cock twitching in anticipation. He settled behind her, his strong hands gripping her hips as he aligned himself with her entrance.
Tori's breath hitched as she felt the blunt head of Jude's cock nudging against her opening. She arched her back, presenting herself to him in a silent offering.
"Please," she whimpered, her voice barely a breath.
Jude's grip tightened on her hips as he surged forward, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth stroke. Tori cried out, her fingers clenching in the sheets as he stretched her deliciously.
"You're so tight," Jude growled, his hips drawing back before snapping forward once more. "Why would I want to be anywhere other than right here?”
Tori's body responded instinctively, her hips pushing back to meet his every thrust. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper, and she could feel every thick inch of him as he filled her again and again.
Raising her hips a little higher, Tori let out a cry of pleasure as the movement was met by a stinging slap to her ass, Jude’s eyebrows furrowing as he felt himself against the cushiony surface of her cervix. 
Tori's body responded instinctively, her hips pushing back to meet his every thrust. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper, and she could feel every thick inch of him as he filled her again and again.
"God, yes," she keened, her nails digging into the sheets as she braced herself against the force of his thrusts. "Harder, Jude. Please."
Jude met her challenge with a low growl, his hips snapping forward with increased vigor. The room filled with the sounds of their coupling, the slap of skin against skin, the creak of the bed frame, and their shared moans of pleasure.
Tori could feel the mounting pressure within her core, her body coiling tighter with each thrust. She reached between her legs, her fingers finding her swollen clit. She rubbed the sensitive nub in tight circles, her breath hitching as the added stimulation pushed her closer to the edge.
"I'm close," she whimpered, her walls fluttering around Jude's length. "Don't stop, please don't stop."
Jude's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he lost himself to the rhythm of their joining.
Tori's body stiffened as Jude's length twitched within her, his own release fast approaching. She could feel his cock pulsing against her inner walls, the heat of his skin searing against her own. 
Breathing heavily, every muscle in his body tensed, Jude let out a primal growl, "Fuck, Tori, you feel incredible." His voice was ragged, laced with the intensity of his impending climax. He pushed into her again, their connection so fierce it bordered on painful, yet addictive. "You're bringing me to the edge, baby," he ground out, each word punctuated by a powerful thrust.
Jude's hands, already gripping her hips with a fierce possessiveness, moved to the small of her back, pressing her down slightly, changing the angle. He wanted to feel every last bit of her, to claim her in a way that left no doubt of their connection. "I can feel you, all of you," he grunted, his pace quickening, each movement calculated to drive them both to the brink.
Tori's whimpers of pleasure spurred him on.
Her fingers, working furiously at her clit, matched the tempo of his thrusts, driving them both higher with each tantalizing touch. Jude's voice, low and commanding, filled the room. "Come for me, Tori. I want to feel you squeeze around me when you let go."
The air was thick with the scent of their arousal, beads of sweat glistening on their skin as the intensity built. Jude could feel the heat of her breath, hear the hitch in her moans, signs that she was teetering on the edge just as he was.
With one final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, their bodies slapping together. "Tori," he growled, his tone a desperate plea as he felt her tighten around him.
Tori's back arched, and a scream of ecstasy tore from her lips as her orgasm hit. "Jude!"
Her body convulsed around his cock, the walls of her pussy clenching in waves, sucking him in with every pulse of pleasure. The sight of her, lost in her climax, was too much. With a final, shuddering breath, Jude let go, his release coursing through him with a force that made his entire body tense.
"Oh, God, Tori," he groaned, his cock pulsing within her as he filled his condom with his hot seed. Each spurt matched the rhythm of her own release, their bodies perfectly in sync.
Jude, still trembling, pulled Tori back against his chest, wrapping his arms around her as they both came down from their high. His lips found the soft skin of her neck, kissing tenderly as he whispered, "You're incredible, you know that?" He whispered into her ear. 
Tori relaxed into his embrace, her heartbeat syncing with his as he held her close. Jude's hands idly traced patterns on her skin, his fingers lingering on the curve of her hip. "Being with you is like finding a piece of me I didn't know was missing."
A gentle smile played on Tori's lips, and she covered his hands with her own, intertwining their fingers. "I feel the same way, Jude. It's like we understand each other on a level that's... beyond the physical."
“And the physical is so fucking perfect,” Jude snarled in agreement, forcing a strangled cry from Tori as he leaned into her, his softening length pressing firmly against her cervix. 
Jude's body shuddered against Tori's, his softening length still buried deep inside her as the aftershocks of their intense lovemaking washed over them. He pressed tender kisses along her neck and shoulder, his breath hot against her skin. 
"You're amazing," Jude murmured, his voice low and husky as he turned her head, his lips ghosting against hers as they breathed one another in. 
Tori and Jude, still intimately connected, tangled together in a mess of limbs and sheets. The only sounds in the room were their ragged breathing and the soft pattering of a spring shower against the window.
Jude nuzzled into Tori's neck, pressing a tender kiss to the sensitive spot below her ear. "I meant what I said," he murmured against her skin, his voice low and sincere. "Being with you, it feels right."
Tori sighed contentedly, her fingers running through Jude's dark hair, nails lightly scraping against his scalp. "I know what you mean," she replied softly, her own voice thick with emotion. "I feel the same."
They lay there, basking in the afterglow of their passion, trading tender touches and whispered endearments. The world outside faded away, and in that moment, nothing else mattered but the connection they shared.
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shadowed-dancer · 9 months ago
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Villains and Their Fates - A Tragedy Would Have Been Fine By Me
I've seen a lot of people who try to write off frustration with the league's fates by saying "you just wanted them to survive" or "you're just upset your favourite character died". And while that may be true for a few people, I know that it's at least not true for myself (which must mean there are others who feel the same way). So today I'm here to share my thoughts. Despite liking the villains and wanting them to be redeemed, I was also willing to accept a well written ending if they died. I just wanted to ramble a bit about the three main villains (mostly Toga) and how I felt a tragic ending could have been improved.
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The only villain I felt should have lived is Dabi, but that's more because of the awkwardness his unconfirmed death caused for Shoto (read this beautifully written analysis for more). If Dabi had to die, he should have died on the battle field OR in the hospital surrounded by family where he gets a few last words in. Leaving his fate unconfirmed leads to the ruined Shoto arc, but is also just weird for a character who has existed for so long. You're telling me that even Overhaul gets a confirmed ending but DABI doesn't?
I've also talked a bit about how Endeavor's survival ruins the subplot, and in 426 he continues by making Touya's final appearance about him (rather than the two brothers) but that's something I've talked about too much. If Endeavor has to be alive and hogging screen time, the least Hori could do is imply Touya will survive rather than die, so at least Enji isn't literally stealing time from his other family members to have some interaction with Touya.
If Touya has to end up in that machine, an ideal ending would have been the doctor saying "it will be a gruelling and near-impossible uphill climb to recovery" and then Shoto can smile and say "he's done it before". Boom. Simple as that. Leave it open, but at least on a positive note so we can assume that the family will have plenty of time to reconcile, as opposed to an unknown (but limited) amount of time that Enji vows to use to talk to him (yeah I know it's supposed to be a sweet gesture but even Touya calls bullshit on it). Let Shoto and Touya eat their soba, damn it!
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For Shigaraki, my grievances extend to the writing of the entire final battle between him and Deku. As such, I don't have much to say aside from that because it really is just a product of poor writing. Neither were really allowed to talk before the big moment (hell, the vestiges were narrating Deku's emotions half the time like "he must be upset, this quirk meant so much to him". Why not let him tell us???) and the back-and-forth of Shigaraki being destroyed and then not only to be destroyed again was too much. It felt sloppy and hard to follow, and once you figured it out it just felt dumb. It's as if each chapter needed some massive reveal, but the story had done it so much at this point that it just felt tired and like it was happening "because Hori said so", and that should never be what drives a story.
Speaking of "because Hori said so"...
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Oh Toga. Out of all the villains, I actually liked her confrontation the most. (Lies. If Dabi vs Shoto was the end of Dabi's fight, THAT would have been the best. But the Endeavor fight ruins it). Despite having limited screen time, Toga and Uraraka had a surprisingly well-built dynamic. Their few interactions were actually meaningful and created a strong foundation for a fight, and at the very least they had more of a personal connection than Deku and Shigaraki ever did. I think that Toga giving her blood to someone she loves (as opposed to drinking/taking their blood like she had said the whole series) is a beautifully tragic end to her character, but still something that could have fit.
To me, the problem comes with how she died. Let me replay the scene for you: Toga stabs Uraraka in the stomach and Uraraka bleeds too much because she keeps moving around. Toga then realizes she doesn't want Uraraka to die. To save her life, Toga has to do a blood transfusion with herself as a donor and she dies because she has to give ALL her blood.
Now... sure. Ok. Fine. Yeah. Maybe by real-world logic this makes sense. I guess. Whatever. But within the world of MHA, this setup is laughable.
Here's a list of things characters survived (or at least, they survived LONG ENOUGH to get to a hospital rather than dying on the battlefield): Deku shattering his bones with 1 million percent, whatever happened to Best Jeanist when AFO attacked him, Nighteye getting a massive spike through the torso, All Might with "his entrails strewn across the ground", Bakugo becoming Swiss cheese, Grand Torino being punched so hard a crater forms beneath him, Touya being a literal flaming skeleton, Bakugo's heart exploding, Edgeshot becoming a worm. Mirko getting a limb ripped off and then running full speed at Shigaraki. That's just off the top of my head, I know there's probably more.
But you want to tell me that Uraraka getting stabbed and then moving was a fatal wound that required ALL TOGA'S BLOOD? ALL OF IT? The reason Toga's death bothers me is that the setup cheapens the actual moment of sacrifice. It feels preventable, so when she tells us that Uraraka is going to die without her blood, all I could do is roll my eyes because I'm not allowed to use critical thinking skills, I have to just accept what Hori says and take it at face value.
If the author wants you to live as Edgeworm despite saying you were gonna die, you can. But if the author needs a stab wound to be fatal and require ALL of someone's blood? Well tough luck bud, that's just how it goes. Mirko can run and move all she wants after having a limb ripped off, but moving a bit after one stab wound is fatal. Why? Because I say so.
If Uraraka's wound was actually serious then this ending would have been a beautiful tragedy. But as it stands now, the ridiculousness of her wound makes it all feel preventable.
Oh, there's also the fact that Toga switching blood types when she transforms was never established, but I've rambled enough.
That's it. Thanks for reading!
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marsprincess889 · 5 months ago
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Ok so I'm back to bringing you guys' attention to what's going on in my country.
I don't have the heart to tell it all in detail. In truth we're all so familiar with it that talking about it seems comical. But to keep you up to date, there have been massive protests in Tbilisi, Georgia since late November.
On 26th of October of this year, the Georgian Dream party falsifies yet another election and on the 26th of november elects themselves as the ruling party again, despite EU, most of the other nations and all the other parties recognizing the elections as illegitimate. Recently they chose their new president, who was basically the only option. The photo of the literal bulletin from the parliament leaked.
People demand another election, a fair one. Peaceful protests soon turned into police beating up the protestors, even teens and women. They're still using water cannons mixed with pepper spray, in December btw. You can look up the videos, even on here.
The main thing that is painful to me and my generation in all of this is the fact that this is a completely new, modern and different version of the same damn fight. Right now I'm thinking of young men and even women and others who were severely beaten up, about people struggling to make ends meet who have their loved ones in such situations, young people trying to build their future who see less and less hope every day in their homeland but are desparately trying to hold on to the last tiny bit of it, maybe even goimg to protests in that state. Today I heard two girls around my age talking. "We gotta get out of here right?..." "yeah... but who are we leaving it to?" "The country?..."
Being free and sovereign in your homeland should not be an uphill battle or a luxury.
We have been fighting against Russian influence for centuries. For those who don't know, even when the repression isn't obvious, they still attack bit by bit(killing or kidnapping our citizens near the occupated borders??????), often with an old and tried tactic: trying to erase our culture and history, and with it our spirit and identity. And with all the other horrors, this is a huge insult.
My heart sinks everytime I read a random comment on a map or other type of video saying "Georgia is not Europe", "but Georgia is Asia". Not that there's anything wrong with Asia, but those statements mean something different and much deeper than an average foreigner suspects. Georgia never ever was "not Europe" to me. This isn't even about joining EU immediately as much as it is about us voicing our own wishes, opinions and truth as the vast majority of our country.
One thing I want to say to people who are far away from this is this: please do not fall for propaganda. And by that I mean Russian propaganda. If you just try to keep it clean while posting about us or checking sources while reading about us and calling out misinformation, it is going to mean a lot.
I tried to not write about this cause let's be honest, what can I do here?
I hope this will do at least something.
I do have followers so, I'm also asking them🤍🤍🤍 even those who just know me from astrology. Please consider reading and reblogging. 🤍🤍
reblogging(esp with tags) is still support.
Edit, additional info that you should probably know: Georgian Dream is a pro-russian government, they just banned wearing masks and goggles(those protect you from pepper spray by the way). If you walk by the parliament in Tbilisi your eyes and skin will almost definitely start to "burn" and you'll most likely start coughing.
There have been phone numbers calling and cursing at/insulting/threatening citizens, even pre-teens, believe it or not. And since the government passed "the russian law" earlier this year, we are most likely being tracked😐
Here is my post from this spring, written in an angry and tired state.
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ratajota · 5 months ago
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hey. this year's been an uphill battle, my work is worth half what it used to be and there's no relief in sight. and i'm tired. i'm very tired. why am i grinding and working my ass off on the holidays and thinking of ways i can make the last packs of lentils and rice work and one last egg last until some gig shows up
i've literally never done this because i've always tried to get work first and struggle in silence but nothing is showing up so here's my kofi. anything helps. otherwise ‼ i'm still willing to do simple portraits due for christmas or whatever For Real i don't want my phone line to be taken down again‼ 😭
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xoxoavenger · 1 year ago
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Hey! Since you’re taking requests, can I request a sort of part two (not necessarily it could jsut be a stand alone) to Days of Future Past where what if younger Charles had a wife in the 70s where reader decides to break it off with Charlie’s casue the love she had for him begun to slowly dwindle because of all the events that happened in the last fic. And while she does care for him as the father of her son and fully expects him to still be in his sons life, she can’t be with him anymore since it’s to much
Broken
pairing: Charles Xavier x Fem!Reader
word count: 739
warnings: angst, no comfort
notes: Days Of Future Past was posted a year ago for my birthday celebration, so it's only fitting that I post the long awaited part 2 for another birthday celebration 🥰
Days Of Future Past (part 1)
birthday celebration main masterlist
The thing about change is that it doesn't happen overnight.
When Logan went back to his own time, Y/N never expected Charles to go back to normal immediately. She knew it would be an uphill battle. But she was pregnant and tired of waiting.
"You're joking." Charles says. They're in his study, Y/N standing even though she is due in a week. They haven't had any conversations that aren't about their son since Logan came, and they need to have this conversation before there's a baby taking up all their time. When she brought up her decision, he didn't seem to like it.
"I know you're on cocaine." She says point blank. She's known for awhile, but it's finally time to force him to get his shit together.
"If you're going to leave me, you might as well go before our son comes." He doesn't think she'll actually do it. He goes back to his work, sitting behind his desk as if she'll huff and walk out. But His words just make her more sure in her decision. She takes a deep breath and looks over at him.
"Charles. I am leaving you. We're not arguing about that right now. What we're talking about is if you're going to be in our son's life or not." She can tell this makes Charles mad, but she has to think of herself and her son. She can't stay with Charles, not when he continuously puts her through tough times. She doesn't know how she's even gotten through this pregnancy when all he's done is get high or drunk and act like she wasn't pregnant for six months.
"What the fuck?" Charles blinks, looking up slowly. "You can't just leave as we're about to have a kid!" His argument infuriates her.
"I'm not in love with you anymore!" She screams, the room going completely quiet. They stare at each other, both hurting.
"What does that mean?" He whispers, and she almost wants to take it back. She can't though, because it's the truth.
"I'll always love you, Charles." She tells him, walking closer slowly. "But after what you put me through, I'm not in love with you."
"I need you." He tells her, reaching out when she gets close enough and grabbing her hand. "I can't get through life without you."
"I'll be here." She assures, moving his hand to her protruding stomach. "There will be a piece of us in this world soon, and I would go through everything again for him. But you and I cannot work together. At least not now." Tears begin to fall from Charles' eyes.
"I can quit." He mutters, and she nods.
"I know you can. And you're going to for our son." She moves to sit on his desk. He puts his head against her stomach, tears soaking her shirt.
"I need you." He repeats, and she just shakes her head.
"Our son needs you." She cards her hands through his hair. "Maybe in another time, we can be together, but you've put me through too much."
"I'm sorry." He finally whispers, and she nods, trying not to cry. "I love you so much."
"I know you do." She tells him. A part of her feels bad. She knows he's trying. But it's too little too late, and she can't sacrifice any more of herself.
"I can change." He promises.
"Charles," She pulls away from him, looking down. "I know you can change. But I can't wait for it. I can't keep giving up pieces of myself to fix you." She feels the need to kiss him, for the comfort and the repetitiveness. But it'll only hurt worse.
"I don't need to be fixed. I just need time." He begs, and it's the same thing Y/N has heard over and over.
"I don't have time to give you." She tells him truthfully, moving away from him now. "Our baby will be brilliant. He will have two loving parents. But they will not be together. For their sake and his."
"Y/N," He starts, but he doesn't have anything left to say. He has nothing left to beg with.
"I love and care for you." She whispers. "But I am not in love with you. You have taken things from me that you cannot give back. Broken things you can't repair. And I can't forgive you for that."
She walks out without looking back, going to move her stuff out of their room. 
//
tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @thefandomplace  @mcueveryday @icequeen1371 @kenzi-woycehoski @multifandom-boss-bitch
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hymemena · 1 year ago
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Sadderday Prompts
Feel free to change pronouns as necessary, and remember to specify muse for multimuse blogs.
CW: Self Deprecation, Depression, Anxiety, Mental Health, Medication, Abandonment Issues
"You wouldn't understand."
"Why me?"
"It's not fair, is it?"
"It feels like it's always an uphill battle."
"I'm tired. Like a bone-deep, never getting better kind of tired."
"If you want it that way, then fine."
"What's the point?"
"I'm too tired to fight anymore."
"Whatever light was in my life walked out with them."
"Don't leave."
"I can't stand seeing happy couples."
"Sometimes it just... Hurts. It still hurts."
"There's nothing left of the person you used to know."
"How many times are you going to call me dramatic when I'm telling you something is wrong?"
"Hope's a curse, or poison, or something similar."
"You say 'tomorrow's another day' like that means it can only get better. News flash: It never gets better."
"I want to be alone."
"I'm at my wit's end."
"I can't."
"I can't keep doing this."
"It's not enough anymore."
"I'm not taking my meds. They make me feel like a zombie."
"I'm not crying."
"I... I don't know. I guess the dam just... Fucking broke."
"Don't stay."
"You should have left already."
"I don't want to be alone."
"Look, you shouldn't love me. All I ever do is let down anyone that's ever had faith in me."
"I... Know it's been a while."
"It's only been a couple years. You couldn't have missed me that much."
"What's there to even miss?"
"Have you even met me?"
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justheretobreakthings · 11 months ago
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As an aroace who frequently feels frustrated by the inability to escape romance and sex whereever you turn, it's easy to become very cynical about the state of media and the uphill battle. So it's definitely really encouraging to see that there's a viable market for aroace-friendly content, one that's significant enough that perhaps in the near future we'll get to see more big media companies catering to that market. And that's in addition to the fact that today's younger generation is a lot more aware of queer identities and diversity than those who have been the big players in media creation for so long now, which means it's very likely that soon we'll get to see more creators who are willing to break away from the narrow standards of character relationships that writers often stick to now.
This article is from October 2023, so it's pretty up-to-date, even though being accustomed to Internet Time makes me feel like I'm super late to this. Anyway, have an excerpt from the article for some highlights:
Teens in the US are wondering why they don’t see more platonic relationships on screen. And that’s just one of many key takeaways from the second-annual Teens & Screens report released today by the Center for Scholars and Storytellers (CSS) at UCLA. [...] When it comes to the types of relationships shown on screen, teens are tired of love triangles and “will they or won’t they” storylines. A majority of respondents (55%) expressed a desire to see more focus on friendships in film and TV.  “While some storytellers use sex and romance as a shortcut to character connection, it’s important for Hollywood to recognize that adolescents want stories that reflect the full spectrum of relationships,” noted Uhls. More than half (51.8%) of all teens surveyed also said sexual content was not necessary in most series and films. Another indicator of what CSS calls a “nomance” trend is the fact that 38% of the teen sample said they are particularly keen to see more aromantic/asexual characters.  On average, all of the respondents ranked romantic clichés among their five least favorite fictional stereotypes. (And that’s quite a shift from when love triangles reigned supreme in fairly recent teen-skewing film franchises like To All the Boys and Twilight.)
Here's a link to the report discussed in the article for those interested.
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Note
Hi, in regards to a post you made in Feb about building community as an activist and not burning out, I have some questions. Mostly in the form of plaintive cries for help... which, if that is something that annoys you or just something you don't want to deal with... That's fine, I don't expect an answer, in all honesty. I'd appreciate any advice you can give me, though, and I thank you for your time.
To start off..I want to be sociable, kind, giving. Maybe not as you are, but..in some way that I can do.
Mostly (I think) for altruistic reasons. Though its at least partly also out of guilt or because I can not stand to be a bystander or just..apathetic, I feel I have gone way too far down that road already, and there's nothing good at the end of it.
I..at the risk of oversharing, your post really resonated with me, but..looking back on my experiences and life, I think I might just...not work as a social human.
I have...a lot of challenges socializing with people, especially people without similar difficulties or innate sympathy to my situation or feelings.
Which makes it hard to be a social butterfly or any sort of insect, near impossible maybe.
And I know its not the only way to organize or to help build community, but it is a prerequisite for a lot of it in my experience. I struggle to hold a five-minute conversation or ask a simple request, even of people I broadly not to be hurt by me or hurt me. Both because of past trauma and failings in the actions mentioned.
I suppose I am asking for advice. If one has...near-zero socialization ability, and an untrustworthy sort of mien and general vibe. Is there any place or action I can do in my community (the only place I feel at all confident in helping or knowing how to help) that doesn't involve those things? Like... it's an uphill battle everywhere, but here it feels, it feels insurmountable or not much is being done. At least in my city and not Vancouver. A lot of the local activists are either burning out, quitting, or just... not doing much directly. Hearts and minds.
I can't cook, I'm...middling at bullshitting at being "normal" or "approachable" or even "sane", I can't draw, I don't have a network, and I have no resources that are useful. Besides time and a failing back. What can I *do* better. To be of help. I'm genuinely grasping at straws and coming up empty. And I don't want to make things worse anymore.
This isn't a 'gotcha', I genuinely want an answer that might put things into focus or just...inform me what I could be doing.
Please give yourself (and me) the space to read this answer as one that comes from love, understanding, and a genuinely difficult negotiation/tension between the role of self-as-individual vs self-as-community. My response is probably going to ramble and wind a bit, and I can't promise it'll feel actionable, but I promise I'm taking this as seriously as I can.
When I was fresh out of my undergrad degree, I finally bit the bullet and hired a social coach. I'd spent my entire life up until this point absolutely devastatingly incapable of making friends, communicating effectively in my personal and work life, and was pretty sure that I would never ever feel connected to another human being again. I could get technical about the mechanisms of that if we wanted to get lost in the weeds about what kind of people can or can't ever learn how to be in community with others but let's go ahead and assume for a minute that whatever a person reading this is about to assert means they are incapable of socializing even WITH explicit and direct training on what "socialization" even is, my life involved some degree of it whether yall want to believe me or not.
So I hired a social coach. I did this because I was tired of feeling overwhelmed, angry, isolated, exhausted, and cornered because I was constantly under fire for my poor social skills and also simultaneously pervasively invisble to others. It was kind of a nightmare way to live and I needed it to stop. So the social coach takes me out to coffee and starts explaining her approach, and do you know what I do? I argue with her. I tell her "but that's not how it works for me, why SHOULDN'T it be okay for me to be the version of me that's more comfortable rather than the one everyone else is expecting?"
And her answer was one that genuinely had me go home and refuse to schedule another appt for like 3wks because I was so frustrated by it.
She said: of course it's okay for you to be that. But you didn't ask me to help you be the most comfortable version of you. You asked me to help you learn to be more effective at navigating social interactions. Learning how to be intentional and effective with your approach doesn't mean you HAVE to use it all the time. And we'll even have specific conversations about how you want to decide when and how to use this stuff. But you need to learn about the different available tools before you can make an informed decision about which one is right for each interaction.
Reader, I hated that fuckin answer.
But she was right. And 3wks later I was back in the coffee shop with her learning about the different styles of communication and their use cases, about relationship theories and how they view the form and function of different social etiquettes, about the difference between a boundary and a demand, about all these things that no one had ever said out loud to me before but which had clear and present impacts on my entire life in retrospect.
Something else my social coach said: It's new for us to expect people to just learn social skills from their parents and general osmosis. Used to be that churches, finishing schools, extended family members, etc were all commonly present and involved in the process of explicitly teaching social skills, and books on etiquette were made available to those who were trying to teach/learn independently.
This had basically never occurred to me, but Reader, I went home and immediately started looking into etiquette books. I have some older ones that are obviously not immediately relevant anymore, but many of them discuss some really interesting lessons on the philosophies behind cultures of hospitality that I found DEEPLY useful. I also have newer ones that talk about more modern-applicable social expectations! Personally, I've always found direct advice (e.g. saying this means that) less long-term valuable to me than more generalized theories about how and why people might respond to things in the ways they do. You obviously can't just like. Find one of these that explains everything all the time, but the more familiar these ideas are, the easier I find it to move between them as needed.
And like. Doing this stuff, learning about theories of relationality and connection, taking social skill building courses, they were helpful. But you know what they taught me more than anything else?
Almost every person who has ever given you shit for being bad at communicating is ALSO really FUCKING BAD at communicating. We all are. Because we stopped fucking teaching it as a skill and started treating it like an innate concept ("social butterfly" isn't a personality type, but that doesn't stop people from declaring themselves "naturally social" or whatever). The difference between you and the person/people who told you that you suck at it is ownership of self.
See, having more tools didn't ACTUALLY make me better at socializing. But it gave me so many different ways to tackle a thing that I learned to pivot whenever one just didn't work. And I started noticing that usually when I pivoted, people responded in kind but SOMETIMES there was literally NO pivot from me that a person would accept. Because I wasn't the problem. The problem was that they were not accepting my communication for one reason or another. And friend, learning that I could just like. Call that shit out? Point and go "I need you to repeat back to me what you think I'm saying right now because I don't think you're hearing me." Man that was game changing.
Learning what I could and could not be responsible for and in control of. Being honest with myself about when I could and couldn't tolerate certain outcomes and not setting myself up for pain around that. Setting reasonable boundaries with people and asking them to do the same for me. More tools made that stuff easier, but ultimately all the good communication in the world wasn't a replacement for doing the very real, very FUCKING HARD work of learning how to coexist with people who are not me. People talk to us like this kind of coexistence means being subsumed and consumed by the collective such that you no longer exist. But this is a lie. There is no human on this earth able to exist entirely alone. We all depend on someone, somewhere, for something related to our basic survival. If you walk through the world unable to feel safe acting on this, you will walk through the world artificially starving yourself to death of everything you need to thrive and barely scraping up enough survival needs to keep going.
And that's true for all of us. So like. The threat that other people pose to us is LITERALLY the result of how much we all depend on each other. We are afraid of that interdependence because we are so alienated from ourselves and each other (for reasons that are culturally contextualized even when they are individual issues specific to us) that we no longer see each other as part of the broader "us". We are all just tiny clusters of individual "me's" occasionally vibrating along as an agitated and menaced "us" until we rattle off each other into our "me" bubbles again. But none of us can live like that. We're all WATCHING that truth in real time as it devastates, slaughters, facilitates fascism, isolates and erodes our safety nets, abandons those most in need.
When I first started in social work I learned about "strengths-based perspectives" and I actually found some of these ideas really helpful in changing how fixated I was on "can't do's". Things I saw as closed doors, blocked paths, constricted and restricted ways of moving forward. Turns out, that this type of thinking is the same one that tends to power eating disorders, driving the brain slowly fucking insane with how much "can't" there is and how excruciating the process of "can" often becomes. The human body-mind has a complex relationship with constriction, and if you live your life in that tension consistently enough for lomg enough, it fucks you up pretty badly. But like. Look around you. There's a LOT of can't in the world right now.
Can't get a job. Can't feed your family. Can't relax. Can't feel heard. Can't feel safe. Can't make friends. Can't go anywhere. Can't stop genocides. Can't survive them either. Can't talk about what's wrong. Can't be quiet any longer or you'll tear your own hair out. Can't pay rent. Can't go to the doctor when you're sick. Can't afford a family. Can't decide not to have a family you can't afford. Can't get help. Can't catch a fucking break.
Folks, I don't think that we can afford to think like this all the way to a shallow grave, do you?
There's a LOT that I can't do. And there is and has always been far more that I can. But learning how to see the latter was something no one ever taught me until I sought out the lessons myself as an adult. I *deserved* to be taught that, we ALL did, but probably that didn't work out for most of us. So learn. Learn because otherwise the helplessness and hopelessness will kill us all.
The goal isn't to force yourself to do things you can't. The goal is to learn how to be effective in the things you CAN do. And you have to be willing and able to learn about the tools that can help you do that. I don't know what that will look like for you, friend. But I know you'll find it.
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celebrate-lesbianism · 1 year ago
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Butch Self-Esteem
Sometimes feeling good about yourself is an uphill battle when you are butch. I often feel like I am not enough by anyone's standards. All of the insecurities I have about my body (being short, curvy, too soft) are confirmed by other people on the internet when they run butches down, call us ugly gremlins, 2/10s, compare us to men, etc.
I'm tired and I've had enough, so here are some things that I've been doing to build myself back up:
I refuse to make self-deprecating jokes anymore.
When I say something bad about myself in my head, I must say something positive to counter it.
I follow people who look like me on TikTok and notice positive attributes we have in common.
Before leaving the house, I say one good thing about how I look.
When I find myself sizing myself up against someone else, I remember that person has insecurities too and that we can look different and both still look good.
I exercise and make good choices for my body.
I spend quality time with people who make me feel good about myself.
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starlene · 6 months ago
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Medical tmi + health thoughts under the cut:
If everything goes as planned, I'm about to have the last period of my life this month. How should I celebrate? I bought a bag of chips, but somehow, that doesn't quite seem to fit the momentousness of the occasion. Maybe I should've also bought some dip to go with them?
Of course, I'd much rather not have any of my organs go so haywire the best course of action is to remove it... but if one of them had to, I guess it's good that it's the uterus and not, say, the lungs or the heart or something. At least this time around. Anyway, I've never had any kind of surgery before, so this is a bit scary, though I'm sure it'll be fine. Just a bit creepy since I don't know how anesthesia and waking up from it will feel for me.
Besides that, I'm still tired literally all the time and oftentimes exhausted. I'm still trying to get help for that, and it's as much of an uphill battle as it's ever been, which is of course not great. But I'll keep on trying.
None of this is great. Frankly, I'm incredibly done with all of this, but it is what it is and dwelling on it not only doesn't change anything but also makes me feel depressed, so I try not to.
So how about eating some of those chips and maybe some Crusader Kings instead, now.
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