#like not trying to insult yo culture

[i-like-swiss-cheese]

Hi i am not going into anon cause frankly i won't. I just wanted to let you know that deleting every single reblog that led to my comment and letting all your rage into the tags was funny as hell. Definitely taking that advice also i don't wear socks i just put my basket on and go do my things. Have a nice day. Try to learn other cultures before screaming on every rooftop but sinfe you are from USA it's ok. Have a nice day mate. The rest of your message was dead on right i just didn't like that minor detail. I will block you now. Byyye.

you are mad at me for... assuming that people wear socks?

imma be honest with you cheif,

whar?

[wholoveseggs]

Hello lovely! I was wondering if you could whip up a little something about the reader because self conscious and comparing herself to Hayley maybe she’s a little chubby and such so when Hayley comes back into their lives she’s a little worried. But Elijah always the gentleman comforts her with some good ol sex 🤪🤪 if not feel free to ignore 💕

Reminder

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Your relationship with Elijah feels like its unravelling with the arrival of Hayley and a cutting nickname from Klaus. Fortunately, Elijah knows just what to do to make you feel loved.

♡♡ Thanks for the request, this one goes out to all my thick thighed brothers & sisters. May you all find an Elijah to suffocate between them. ♡♡

4.5k words - Warnings: smut, face sitting, Klaus being cruel, Elijah being sweet.

When you are a vampire time passes differently, things change around you, and sometimes you feel like the odd man out. When you first met Elijah everything was different. Culture, language, even the food and the music. He was captivated by you instantly, he whisked you away from your difficult life and kept you in his bed. Making sure you knew how much he loved every inch of your body. He was your first and only lover, the man who turned you and showed you a world you never thought was possible.

Centuries had passed with just the two of you, then Klaus returned to your lives and with him came the lovely Hayley Marshall. Pregnant, doe eyed and absolutely beautiful.

You weren't jealous at first, Elijah was devoted to you and only you. His heart was yours, that was all you cared about. But Klaus brought his chaos with him, and your noble lover had to keep Hayley safe. She needed to be protected, so Elijah spent more time with her and less with you.

You were alone, and it left a hollow feeling in your chest. You felt forgotten and unloved. Elijah did his best to spend time with you, but it wasn't enough.

Then your mind started playing cruel tricks on you, making you see Hayley and Elijah together. She was so pretty, her body was tall and thin, while yours was plump and soft. You had nightmares of Elijah touching her, kissing her, making her moan his name.

It made you want to throw up.

The whole thing made you feel irrational and insecure, Elijah loved you, he told you all the time, but still the thoughts lingered.

It wasn't until Klaus gave you a certain nickname, that it truly got under your skin.

Little wolf he would purr, calling Hayley to him, the words fell off his tongue like honey. It was such an affectionate term, one with many layers of meaning. It was beautiful and sweet, and Klaus seemed so proud to call her this.

But then there was his nickname for you, Elijah's little cherub. 

It was not meant as an endearment, but as an insult. Klaus was right, you did look a little like a cherub, soft, round cheeks, and a full, thick body. It hurt you, even if you tried not to let it get to you. You told yourself that Klaus wasn't important, his opinion didn't matter. But the words he spoke stuck in your mind.

Everything was going fine, you had mastered keeping your insecurities under wraps, until Klaus and Elijah announced that they were throwing a ball. 

It was Elijah's first time hosting one since the two of you moved to New Orleans. He was a natural at hosting parties, he knew just how to make everyone feel welcome. It was a trait you didn't have. You were too quiet and reserved, people would get bored with you and leave. Elijah was the life of the party, everyone wanted to be around him. You were afraid you would ruin it for him.

You never felt good in gowns, you felt big and bulky. The ones you tried on just made you look worse. You hated looking at yourself in the mirror, you looked like an overstuffed pillow. There was no way you could go out in public like this. You even dug out an old corset to try and make yourself look smaller. It just made your breasts spill out over the top. You were mortified and threw the thing in the garbage. You were starting to wonder what Elijah saw in you.

When he entered your bedroom, you were sitting on the bed, resigning yourself to the dress that you knew didn't suit you. He had been busy with the ball, and hadn't noticed your sour mood. He was all smiles, telling you how beautiful you would look in your dress, and how proud he was to have you by his side. He was dressed impeccably as always, and you felt frumpy and out of place. How could you possibly look good next to him?

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yes," you replied in a small voice, not wanting to burden him with your troubles.

You walked downstairs and the guests began to arrive, all the while Elijah's hand rested on the small of your back. He left you to go greet some guests and you spotted Klaus. He grinned and you saw the flash of his dimples as he made his way over to you. You knew he was going to make a comment, you dreaded hearing what it was going to be.

"Hello, little cherub," he smirked, and your heart sank.

"Please don't call me that," you whispered, fidgeting with the fabric of your dress.

"Why ever not? You do look like one," he said, his eyes roaming your body.

"Klaus, stop it," you warned, not wanting to deal with his teasing.

"My brother certainly does seem fond of you, which is odd, considering his type usually looks more like..." he gestured to Hayley, who was across the room talking with Elijah.

You frowned, trying to swallow the insecurity bubbling up, but Klaus still noticed, "Did I hit a nerve?"

"No, why would you?" you lied, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

"Don't be too upset, cherub, you may not be his usual type, but he seems to enjoy the extra cushion."

His words hit like a punch to the gut. You couldn't believe he would say something like that. It was true that Elijah was quite fit and lean, while you were much softer and thicker. It made you insecure and now that he pointed it out, it felt even worse. You looked over at Elijah, who was talking to Hayley, they looked so good together, she was a perfect match for him.

"You really are an ass," you told him.

He chuckled and said, "I never said it was a bad thing, I think you are rather lovely,"

Elijah glanced up and saw the distress on your face. He immediately excused himself from his conversation and came to you. He could tell that something was bothering you.

"What did you do?" he asked Klaus.

"Me? Nothing," Klaus shrugged. "I was just complimenting your lovely companion," he continued, smirking at you.

Elijah's attention was on you now, he knew something was wrong. His brow furrowed, he could sense your anguish. But before he could say anything Hayley joined the group, her eyes moving from Klaus, to Elijah, and then settling on you.

"Oh, hello," she said, trying to sound friendly.

You nodded politely, not wanting to be impolite, despite the way her presence made you feel. It wasn't her fault, she had no idea you felt this way.

Elijah's hand brushed over the small of your back, trying to comfort you. He didn't realize it, but his touch was having the opposite effect, it was making you even more self conscious. Did he feel obligated to touch you like that? Did he do it for show? Was he just being polite? Your brain was coming up with every reason possible to feel terrible.

You didn't know how much longer you could stay here, watching them, surrounded by a sea of beautiful people, feeling more alone than ever.

You looked over at Elijah, and saw him gazing at you. His eyes were filled with adoration, but it was hard for you to believe it. The voice in your head kept repeating, that Klaus was right, he doesn't really love you, he's just too polite to say anything.

"I was hoping to get a proper tour of the house," Hayley said, interrupting your thoughts, "I've never seen the upstairs rooms, will you show me y/n?"

The question caught you off guard, you had no interest in spending time with her, and it felt like she was just being polite. You wanted to say no, but that would have been rude. So instead you smiled and nodded, following her out of the ballroom and into the hall.

You led her upstairs and she stopped, her eyes scanning the pictures on the wall. Her fingers gently brushed over the frames, and she pointed out an old portrait of the Mikaelson Family.

"God, they are all so beautiful," she sighed, and you knew she was right. Rebekah was stunning, Klaus had a wild, handsome charm, and Elijah was a classic, elegant beauty. They were all perfection, and you had no idea what they were doing with you.

"Is that Freya?" she asked, pointing at another portrait, "she's stunning,"

You nodded, feeling awkward. This was the last place you wanted to be.

Hayley smiled, turning her attention back to the wall, and continued walking. You trailed behind, feeling out of place, and unsure of what to say. Hayley stopped in front of a particular painting, a portrait of you and Elijah. She smiled, and you felt your heart skip, it was your favorite portrait of the two of you.

"You two look so in love," she said, and your stomach twisted.

"Yes, we are," you replied, trying to sound sincere, when really all you wanted to do was cry.

"How did the two of you meet?" she asked.

"He turned me in the 16th century, I was his seamstress," you explained, smiling a little.

Hayley looked at you with surprise, her eyebrows raised, "You fixed up his suits?"

"Well, he wasn't exactly wearing suits back then, but he's always been very fashionable. He liked the way I stitched his shirts," you told her.

"How fast did you two fall in love?"

You bit your lip, and answered, "Well, he persued me for quite a while before I agreed to be with him,"

"Why? Were you scared?" she asked, a smile playing at her lips.

"No, not exactly," you blushed, looking down at the floor.

"Well, what was it?" she asked, genuinely curious.

You gave Hayley a skeptical look, women that looked like her never thought about these kinds of things.

"I mean, he's so gorgeous, and I'm..."

You looked down at your body, your mind conjuring up a list of flaws. Hayley could see the change in your demeanor, she could sense your discomfort. She stepped closer, her hands coming to rest on your arms.

"There's nothing wrong with you, I think you're pretty," she smiled, her hands giving your arm a comforting squeeze.

Your eyes darted to the floor, and you felt the blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Thank you, Hayley," you murmured.

"And Elijah thinks the same thing, I've seen the way he looks at you," she added, her voice taking on a more serious tone.

You glanced up and saw the truth in her eyes, there was a softness, and a hint of jealousy.

"Thank you," you said, a blush rising on your cheeks.

"Of course," she smiled, "I hope I can find a man who looks at me the way Elijah looks at you,"

The words hung in the air, and you couldn't help but ask, "How does he look at me?"

"Like you are the most beautiful thing in the world," she replied, and her voice sounded wistful.

She turned her gaze to the portraits and continued her exploration. You followed, and as you got closer to the end, Hayley paused, her gaze lingering on the portrait of Klaus.

"I hope our child has his dimples," she sighed.

"And not his ego," you teased, and her face split into a grin.

"That's fair," she laughed, her hand falling on the slight bump of her belly.

You continued your tour of the house, showing her the rest of the rooms, and trying to keep the conversation light. Hayley was kind, and didn't seem to notice your discomfort. When you returned to the ballroom, Elijah was standing with his brother, their heads bowed together, discussing something. He looked up when he saw you and his lips curled into a smile.

Hayley's eyes flicked to Elijah and then back to you, "See, there it is, that look,"

You blushed, and turned your head away. Elijah looked at you with love and affection, but your doubts still lingered.

"Did you enjoy the tour with the little cherub?" Klaus asked, his lips curling into a smirk.

Hayley gave him a warning look, her voice laced with an unspoken threat, "Don't call her that,"

Klaus held his hands up in surrender, but the damage was done, you felt so humilated and embarrassed, you had enough of Klaus and his cruel comments. You had enough of him constantly making you feel bad about yourself. He made it impossible for you to feel secure in your relationship. You felt uncomfortable in your dress, in your own skin, surrounded by people who were objectively better than you in every possible way.

"I'm going to bed," you announced, your voice quiet.

Elijah's brow furrowed, and he reached out to grasp your hand but you pulled away.

"I'm tired," you said, turning on your heel and marching out of the ballroom.

Elijah's eyes were locked on your retreating form, a frown on his face.

"Why did you call her that?" Elijah asked his brother.

"It's nothing," Klaus shrugged, a grin spreading across his face, "she's just a little sensitive,"

Elijah's frown deepened, and he glanced over at Hayley.

"She's a sweet girl, just a little insecure," Hayley sighed.

"Insecure about what?" Elijah asked.

Hayley glanced at Klaus, and he shrugged.

"She's just not really comfortable with herself," Hayley finally said, giving Klaus a pointed look.

He had no shame, his grin only grew wider, and he said, "Come on, she is rather plump, isn't she?"

"But she's so sweet and adorable," Hayley added, trying to smooth over the awkwardness.

Elijah's jaw tightened, and his expression darkened, he looked back and forth between both of them.

"You had no right to say those things to her," he told Klaus, his voice laced with anger. "She has a difficult time when it comes to seeing her own worth, you know that, she's been struggling with these issues since the day we met," Elijah continued.

"It's nothing, Elijah," Klaus shrugged, "she'll get over it, she's probably crying into her pillow right now."

The image of you, curled up in bed, sobbing, broke Elijah's heart. He clenched his fists and his eyes narrowed. Klaus really did go too far this time, he really upset you. Elijah would make sure it never happened again.

"Excuse me," he muttered, glaring at his brother before turning around and storming out of the ballroom.

Once you were safely locked away in your bedroom, you sobbed, and the tears wouldn't stop. You had done your best not to show anyone your jealousy and anger, but now everyone knew how pathetic and insecure you really were.

You didn't hear the door open or close, you didn't know Elijah was in the room until his arms were around you, holding you tight against his chest. He didn't speak, and he didn't make you look at him. He simply held you and let you cry until you had no tears left.

Once your sobs had subsided he tilted your head up and kissed your cheeks, catching every stray tear with his lips. He wiped the rest away with his thumb, his dark eyes were filled with worry.

"What happened, love?" he asked. "Tell me what's wrong."

You looked at him, feeling foolish and embarrassed. He had no idea you had been feeling this way. No one did, but now it was too late. You took a deep breath and forced the words out.

"What is it that you see in me?" you blurted out, your face red.

Elijah frowned, looking completely taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

You sighed, frustrated with his cluelessness. "I mean, look at me! I'm not exactly a supermodel."

Elijah chuckled and cupped your cheek, his hand was so warm and soft. "I'm looking," he said, his gaze raked over you and it made you blush.

"I don't understand," he continued, looking into your eyes. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

You huffed and tried to look away, but he held your chin. "I am serious. Why would you ever doubt my attraction to you?"

You bit your lip, still not sure if you should tell him the truth. "It's just...Hayley is so gorgeous, and tall and thin. Then Klaus just calls me your cherub, like I'm some stupid child."

Elijah's gaze softened and he shook his head. "Darling, Klaus was trying to get a rise out of you, don't let him get in your head."

"But he's right... Look at me, compared to her, and Klaus, and the rest of your family. I'm not even that attractive," you muttered, avoiding his eyes.

Elijah frowned and took your hand, placing it on his chest. "Can you feel that?"

You nodded, your hand could feel the steady, strong beat of his heart.

"It's yours," he said softly.

He kissed you, and your heart fluttered, feeling lighter already. His hands slid down your back and gripped your ass, he pulled you closer and you gasped. His tongue slipped into your mouth and teased yours, tasting you.

His hand moved lower and he pulled your dress up, his fingers trailed over the lace of your panties, feeling the warmth and wetness.

"I will tell you this once," he whispered, his teeth grazing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "You are perfect."

His hand dipped into your panties and stroked you, making you moan. "So wet, all for me."

You gasped and pressed your face against his shoulder.

"Tell me who this belongs to," he demanded.

"You, Elijah, it's yours," you whimpered, grinding against his fingers.

"Yes, that's right," he purred. "This sweet, little cunt is mine. Only mine."

He pushed you onto the bed and pulled your dress over your head. He groaned when he saw you wearing the matching set of black, lacy bra and panties. 

He started kissing and marking his way down your body, starting at your neck and moving lower, biting and sucking as he went. You gasped and moaned as he reached your breasts. He undid the front clasp and licked a stripe up the middle, before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, and teasing the other with his fingers.

"These are so beautiful," he murmured against your skin, sucking until they were hard peaks. "So big and soft," he hummed.

You ran your fingers through his hair, needing something to hold onto. You whimpered and arched up against him, the feeling of his hot mouth was driving you insane.

You squealed and tugged on his hair a little harder when you felt him bite down. He chuckled and sucked hard, letting your breasts go with a loud pop. They were covered in rapidly healing hickeys, and he looked very pleased with himself.

He kissed down your stomach, admiring your soft belly. He cupped it, and squeezed your thighs, making you gasp.

"My perfect girl," he mumbled against your hips.

He hooked his thumbs into your panties and slid them down your legs, you sat up on your elbows to see what he was doing.

He slid them off and leaned down, kissing and sucking on your inner thighs.

"These perfect thighs, squeezing my head when you cum on my tongue," he said, his stubble scratched and tickled you. You let out a breathy giggle as his hands roamed your body, gripping your waist and thighs. He growled with satisfaction, biting the flesh and sucking marks into your soft skin.

"Elijah, stop teasing," you groaned, becoming impatient.

He chuckled and suddenly pulled you into his lap. He held you close and looked into your eyes.

"I love every bit of your body," he hummed, holding you firmly against him. "Every perfect curve, and every soft inch.”

He gave your tummy a small squeeze and kissed your pouting lips. "You are so beautiful," he whispered.

You blushed and avoided his gaze. He cupped your cheek and tilted your head up, his fingers traced your features, his gaze was filled with adoration.

"Those beautiful lips, those gorgeous eyes, these perfect cheeks, your soft, little nose," he cooed, kissing your face between each word.

You giggled and tried to hide your face in your hands, feeling a little overwhelmed.

"And this ass," he said as he kneaded the flesh, he lifted you up and smacked it, making you yelp. "It should be in the Louvre."

He kissed you again and slowly grinded against you, his hands explored your body, caressing and squeezing. 

He scooted down the bed and laid back down, looking up at you with a wicked grin. He kept his gaze locked with yours as he pushed your ass forward, signaling he wanted you to sit on his face.

"Elijah, no, I-," you gasped, completely embarrassed. You felt so shy and nervous, not wanting him to look at you up close like that.

Elijah sat up and kissed you. "Do you think you will hurt me?" He asked, his lips brushing against yours.

"No," you breathed.

"Then what's the problem?" He asked, brushing his knuckles over your cheek.

You let out a shaky breath and wrapped your arms around his neck. "I don't know."

Elijah looked into your eyes, a kind smile on his lips. "If it kills me, you have discovered quite a loophole when it comes to killing an original," he said, gesturing to his face and grinning.

You giggled and pecked his lips. You closed your eyes and tried to calm yourself, it was hard to explain your nerves. You'd been intimate with Elijah before, more times than you could count, but you couldn't shake your insecurities.

Elijah sensed your hesitation, he kissed your neck softly and leaned up to whisper in your ear. "Please sit on my face, I want to eat your sweet pussy until you scream."

His filthy words made you shudder and you knew you wouldn't be able to say no, so you bit your lip and took a deep breath.

"Okay," you whispered.

Elijah laid back down and gave your hips a gentle tug, pulling you into position.

Your entire body went hot when he spread your thighs apart. He kissed the insides, making you moan.

"There's a good girl," he hummed as his lips danced across your hot skin. He positioned you over his face and you could feel his breath ghosting over your most sensitive area.

He looked up at you and gave you an encouraging smile. "Sit,"

You bit your lip, but slowly lowered yourself down, inch by inch. He grabbed your ass and pulled you down fast, making you let out a squeak of surprise.

The heat pooled between your thighs as Elijah nosed at your center, teasing the soft skin. You moaned and tangled your fingers in his hair, rocking against him.

You felt a sudden sting as he nipped your thigh. "Stay still, let me do the work."

He licked a stripe up your core, groaning as he tasted you. He spread you open with his fingers, pressing his tongue flat against you, he licked long and slow. He buried his face deeper, lapping and sucking at your clit.

He licked and sucked and kissed, moaning against your soaked cunt. Your eyes rolled back, you tightened your grip on his hair and cried out. The noises he made were obscene, you could hear his mouth sucking at you, and it only made you wetter.

He looked up at you, his dark hair was a mess and his lips were covered in your slick.

"You taste divine, my love," he groaned. "So sweet, just for me."

He sucked hard on your clit, his hand reaching around and grabbing your ass roughly, squeezing and slapping the soft flesh. He growled and began fucking you with his tongue. His hands spreading you open and pressing his face as deep as possible. He buried himself in your pussy, licking, and sucking like it was his last meal. You came hard on his tongue, your thighs squeezing his head tight as you fell apart.

He soothed your flushed skin with his tongue, sucking on your clit once more, making you twitch. You tugged on his hair, gently pulling him away, not able to take the overstimulation.

You moved back and sat on his chest, trying to catch your breath. Elijah caught your wrist and brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. He was covered in your wetness, and his chin was glistening. He grinned at you, completely satisfied with himself.

You snorted and leaned down, kissing him softly. You hummed, tasting yourself on his tongue.

Elijah rolled you onto your back and pinned your wrists above your head. He pressed his forehead against yours, smiling as you stared at him with a blissful, dazed expression.

"You are so perfect," he breathed, nuzzling his nose against yours.

He kissed down the side of your face and nibbled on your ear, his free hand trailing down your body, cupping and squeezing the soft flesh of your breasts, your hips, your thighs.

"Every inch of you," he whispered.

"Elijah," you sighed, blushing from the attention.

Elijah hummed and reached down to his pants, undoing his belt and pushing them down his legs. You reached up and helped him undress, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it on the floor.

You pulled him close and kissed him, wrapping your arms and legs around him. You could feel him pressed against you, his thick cock hot and heavy against your thigh.

"Look at what you do to me," he purred, kissing down your neck.

He reached down and guided himself to your entrance, rubbing the head against you. He slid inside easily, your body opening up for him.

He rocked his hips slowly, grinding his pelvis against yours, making you moan and grip his shoulders tight.

His eyes locked with yours as he fucked you slow and deep. You clung to him, your nails leaving marks on his skin.

"You see how perfectly we fit?" He groaned, taking your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. "Look at us,"

You both looked down, watching as he thrusted in and out of you, his slick cock disappearing into your body.

"My love, my beautiful girl," he moaned, his voice thick with emotion. "I need you to understand, no one else will ever come close to comparing. You are everything to me."

He buried his face in your neck and kissed and nipped the soft skin. "This perfect body, your heart, your soul, I will never find anyone like you."

You whined and clawed at his back, you could feel the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, you were overwhelmed and so grateful.

"I love you," you choked out, burying your face in his shoulder.

"And I love you," he breathed.

He held you close and fucked you until you were trembling, tears streaming down your cheeks, clinging to him as you climaxed, shaking and crying his name.

He finished not long after, groaning and gasping as he spilled his release inside you, holding you tight.

You both laid there, panting and covered in sweat. You felt light and dizzy, your muscles felt like jelly and it took all your strength to not fall asleep right then and there.

"I want you to know, I mean every word I say to you," Elijah said quietly, kissing your temple.

"I know, Elijah," you hummed, smiling up at him. "Thank you for reminding me."

"Always."

"And Elijah?" You smiled and nuzzled his neck.

"Yes, my love?"

"I think your ass is the one that should be in the Louvre."

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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[yawntu]

Tsyeym

A/N: Yo I thought I posted this last night, took shrooms. Finally just woke back up came and checked and was like no way no one has interacted w this fic and then realized i never pressed post. Rotxo deserves more love so I decided in a little fic for him. Switch x Switch couples are just my cup of tea. This is not my fav but I am a sucker for love and romance. It’s grammarly proofread but not beta read 🤭 (might be looking for another beta reader)

pairing(s): Rotxo x f!Reader, platonic!Ao’nung x f!Reader (briefly)

word count: ~8k

warnings: NSFW / MDNI, Size kink, stomach bulge, face sitting(f!receiving), Cunnalingus, Cumswaping maybe?, Spit, he’s a messy eater you can’t tell me otherwise, beach sex, Jealous!Rotxo, he’s just so sweet and pretty, Unprotected, love taps on your butt, “girl” is used, it’s pretty soft for the most part, he’s obsessed and def a simp

na’vi glossary: sayrìp : handsome, skxawng : moron, tsyeym : treasure / precious

Playfully scrapping had become increasingly popular amongst your friend group since you had been introduced to each other's cultures all those years ago. It was commonplace to play amongst yourselves. Just earlier in the evening you and Ao’nung had just almost spoiled your dinner by shoving each other's faces into the sand after a slap-boxing horseplay over some crustacean turned into a rather enthralling spar that had both of your fathers rooting for and coaching from an imagined sideline (and mothers who were doing more yelling and hooting in excitement then offering tactical advice).

Rotxo had even watched in amusement as it seemed Ao’nung had succeeded in neutralizing you with a knee on your back. Unfortunately, Ao’nung had been a fool and got off of you to turn to his father with a grin. It took you only seconds for you to contort yourself into a crouch and launch yourself into the back of his legs sending him forward onto his knees. His shock gave you enough time to maneuver both of your palms onto the back of his head and dramatically push his face right down into the sand,

“That is for punching me,”

And Rotxo couldn’t help the pang of jealousy at the fact that your pretty thighs straddle his best friend's back. Or the fact that jealousy grew into a painful lump in his throat when Ao’nungs arm hooks behind him to support your frame as he almost barrel rolls half onto his back to pin your thigh under his body and halt your assault with a laugh.

All your family and friends are laughing at the two of you, and your mothers coo as they watch you wipe sand off of Ao’nungs face. Rotxo couldn’t stop the bitter resentment that bubbled in his chest at the sight. He hated feeling this way. He hated the way you made him feel not quite like himself.

Which is why he does his very best at keeping it hidden. Not that it’s hard for him to forget the resentment he feels for you the second you give him your attention. Even only hours after the disgusting display of affection with his best friend. When you kindly ask him to accompany you on a walk he can’t even think about how upset he had been. Even now while your chiding voice disrupts the peacefulness of your walk and the beauty of the light beginning to set over the reef.

“You’re mad because I will not spar with you?”

He cuts off your words. The duck of the young warrior's head, so he could speak to you face to face as you walked down the beach only insults you more. Had he been on the side closest to the soft waves you’d have no doubt shoved him onto his ass into the assaulting water. Obviously that is what you were angry about-

“Is it because I cheat when I fight Ao’nung? If he is so stupid as to keep turning his back on me after all this time then he is at fault,”

You sound genuinely confused as you try desperately to make sense of why Rotxo would rough house with Lo’ak or Neteyam and even Kiri but not you. It’s funny how conceited you sound even as you’re practically bouncing next to him and pestering him like a bug. Rotxo knew a little better than most though regarding the inner workings of your mind. It wasn’t that you were conceited- you were just stupidly confident. He didn’t doubt, however, that one way or another your small frame would beat him simply because he knew you wouldn’t dare give up until you did.

“Besides the fact that I vividly remember when you bit Tinangey in the cheek,” Rotxo try’s to defend his unwillingness to hit you with an annunciation to his story by holding two of his second knuckles to the apex of your cobalt cheek. Long, thick fingers curled against your glowy skin. The same place you had bitten the longed-haired, round-faced, barely tolerable boy all those years ago when you fought. Though in your defense Ao’nung and the group of boys had started a very real fight, and you had only followed in your brother's shadow of retribution.

“And I happen to hit much harder than Ao’nung does,” he adds.

For a second, Rotxo feels like he exudes your same confidence. It’s not an unwarranted comment, however. Ao’nung was less than a head taller than him, but Rotxo had grown into quite an impressive specimen. Wide and as immovable as the waves that crashed outside of the reef you do not venture past. That was more than half the reason why you wanted to spar with the Talioang of a man so terribly.

“You are no fun,”

He can’t help but frown at your words. He knows you aren’t serious- would you spend as much time with him if you did not find entertainment in him? The same insecurity that causes resentment to bubble in his stomach rears its ugly head once more. For a second he feels like he could believe that you had been aware of how he felt and that you used him for validation.

“You should be more thankful to me,” he chides, baring his fangs slightly in a half grinned snarl, “that I refuse to knock any more brain cells out of you,”

You complain he doesn’t horseplay with you the way the others do, but at this moment he organically wraps one palm around the back of your head to pull you into him slightly, so he could cruelly rub his knuckles against the crown of your head.

Because he does roughhouse with you. Rotxo always played with you. Was always there to entertain you because the idea of other men wrapping their hands around the pliable flesh of your flowing form made the ugliest parts of him surface. If it wasn’t Rotxo entertaining you it was your siblings or his best friend. As he had not made any formal claim towards you out of his nerves, unfortunately, had to tolerate it regarding his future Olo'eyktan.

You’re just a terrible little cretin that found delight in the chaos you left in your wake. It’s why you, Lo’ak, and Kiri get into so much trouble. It’s why you poked at Ao’nung. He can swear there’s a part of you that does it just to cause strife in his heart.

He can’t be bothered with pondering over the legitimacy of his accusation partially out of fear that he’s projecting, and perhaps you are just like Ao’nung. Though mostly it’s because of course you are swatting your delicate little hand at him and grumbling about how you’re smarter than him and that he was the stupid one to think otherwise.

It’s endearing how you walk backward as the two of you playfully bicker and fight. Though like always- Rotxo is catching your intended slaps and redirecting your arms to swoop past him. Sometimes even grabbing at your forearms so you can’t help but be pulled around haphazardly by him.

“You are so fucking annoying,”

Your shriek comes as Rotxo almost effortlessly maneuvered you to spin forward and walk ahead of him, while he pinned your arms across your chest. You both stumble over each other's feet as you can’t help but laugh over the fact that he’s made your arms an effective straight jacket. You wiggle and writhe and it halts his walking while you try to dig your heel into the top of his foot. It only results in one of your wrists being let go of and you being spun around like a toy by him.

He had half let you stumble while he used the momentum of your arms to spin you, but he was quick to grab hold of your other wrist, propping you right up.

You were out of breath from the game but you were thankful for the view he presented you with. The violets and oranges of sunset suited the aquamarine of his skin. Dancing between the intricate tidal markings on his body, and forcing your eyes to dance across the defined arms, chest, and neck that were covered in bold black lines. You feel a little silly, being so flustered before him with your whole face purpled. You can help it because he looks pretty at the moment. Absolutely beautiful like always. Like no one you had ever seen before.

Rotxo is quick to heave you up in the air and shake you around. Ruining the view that had just begun to calm you down. Riling you into hysteric laughter while playing with you as if you weighed nothing. You shake in his arms and toss your body around like a mad-woman and you’re cackling just like one.

When he begins to feel merciful you land on your feet, with his arms still pining your hands and arms against your ribs that are rapidly rising and falling. With the welcomed breaths you instantly go back to chastising him.

“That is not sparring, fish-boy! You were just being an imbecile.”

You’re snapping an arm fee so you can poke him in the chest. He can’t help but roll his eyes at your attempt and take your hand to lightly ‘smack’ your face with it.

“You are ridiculous,”

He tried to emphasize his words with a similar assault by your other hand but you offered resistance,

“If you just took me seriously I-“ you’re cut off as you struggle to keep him from playfully making you hit yourself. Thrashing your head around wildly. And he’s just laughing above you because he thinks it’s stupid that you assume he just thinks you can’t fight and that’s why he won’t spar with you. For Eywas sake he watches you win regularly.

It’s like you could read his mind without tsaheylu and the mention of your victories emboldened you. He hadn’t even noticed your leg raise to wrap around his locked knee leisurely supporting his weight while he tormented you.

He had buckled backward under the weight of his massive frame embarrassingly quickly. You had expected him to let go of your wrists as he fell, but he did not. Opting to drag you down into the sand with him.

He tries to control the mauve that dances across his skin but this is the reason he didn’t spar with you. He can tell himself it’s because he hates seeing you get hit, and that his heart breaks and chokes him any time he thinks about striking you even in that situation.

He knows however, it’s because he can’t be this close to you. He can already feel his ears perking up towards you and his eyes relaxing while he stares up at you. How pretty. Your sapphire skin was dazzling under the cool violets and dwindling oranges of an almost completely set sun. The stars had even begun to twinkle behind you between the other shining moons.

“You are the worst,” your pants finally die down, to match your soft glare,

“Is that so?” His cheeks dimple as he grins wildly up at you as you adjust to straddle his chest more comfortably.

“Yes. I swing at you and you don’t even try to hit me back.”

And there’s another attitude laced plop to his chest. More follow as you use said pops to enunciate your following words,

“You just toss me around like I am useless and cannot fight! You know I can. Yet you only fight my brothers, how are you meant to get better if you don’t-“

He stops listening to your scoldings. He doesn’t care what you’re saying when his heart beats against your inner thighs. When he can feel the pudge of your hips practically pooling on him begging for him to grab at it. Why couldn’t you connect the dots? Why were you so stupid? He can’t help but laugh at you, there’s even a bit of a bitter snide behind it. Even though he thinks it’s endearing how badly you wanted to prove yourself to him. He cuts you off abruptly,

“Go and fight with Ao’nung,”

And it’s got your pretty siren eyes widening at his words.

“What does he have to do with anything,”

The sight of his sea-foam eyes rolling into the back of his head has your snarl fixed down at him,

“Can’t step on the Olo'eyktan’s toes can I? Huh?”

He has an expression you’ve never seen cross his face before. Not on Rotxo’s. Not the sweet boy who you had spent so much time with,

“What are you talking about, Ro?”

Ro. You dare call him Ro at a time like this. It makes him sit up on in elbow, grabbing at the top of your now elevated thigh,

“What do you mean what am I talking about? Why do you need to spar with me when you can practice with him? Unless it’s just some weird mating thing you guys have going on-”

He’s never seen your face screw up quite like it is now. Red-faced at his accusation not out of embarrassment but out of anger. Angry that he’d made such a brazen accusation. The first outbreak from Rotxo leaves you stumbling over how to answer him, and you notice he looks hurt at your stunned silence.

“Yeah, ‘course that’s what it is. You make it quite obvious-“ and you feel him start to move under you- probably to get up and apologize and tell you you had to walk back to the village now because even with the hurt salted embarrassment he feels now he’d never leave you to walk back alone. Never let you be in danger. You know that and it makes you more upset,

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t make it obvious. I am not your fucking ilu- you do not know what I’m thinking.”

Your left hand reaches for the wrist of the hand that holds your thigh while your right pointer and middle fingers aim down at him accusingly.

“So you have no interest in him?”

Rotxo is speaking faster than usual. A trait you had noticed followed Rotxo anytime he was too hyped up. He was the softest boy you had ever known yet the gentle buzz of adrenaline that leaked out of his too-quick breaths reminded you that he was in fact a Metkayina warrior.

“Mhmm,”

You’re honestly surprised it has taken you this long to notice the mutual affection he had harbored for you. Blinded by your insecurities, the sight of him frantic over the idea of your affection belonging to someone else made you squirm.

“I suppose he would be a fine mate now that you mention it-” and you smile down at him, hoping he knows you’re kidding. That you just don’t know how to talk about your feelings “considering no one else seems to be all that interested in me,”

And you feel him go ridged under you, round eyes fixated on your own. You think he’s annoyed a little bit, staring dumbfounded at you. But you feel his fingers dig into the meat of your thigh.

“Was this your plan? Torment me into doing what you want?”

You don’t know if it’s the chill of the eclipses sea breeze or the fact that Rotxo’s voice was as modulated, deep, and mesmerizing as always, yet his face held the same intense stare that the Metkayina warriors were renowned for. You’re embarrassed at the way you twitch as he props both hands on your thighs and adjusts himself back into laying straight back.

“Nu-uh, but is it working?” And you're purring above him, flicking your tail across his stomach. It only added to the overstimulated feeling throbbing at the front of Rotxo’s skull. An uncomfortable pendulum swinging him between ecstasy at the sight of your pretty form sat on his chest and misery over the fact that he still couldn’t shake the insecurity that you were toying with him.

“No-“ He curses a crack in his voice with a swallow, “I will just stay tormented,”

His hands are warm as they paw at the top of your thighs. He can’t help but feel like he’s on fire at your position, at least the sand was starting to cool in the dark. It helped keep him from sweating below you even as he pants at the sight above him. Your knees are pushed under his arms and nestled against his ribs and he worries you can feel his heart pounding. You made the air hang hot around his head.

You’re nervous at how intense his dusk sullen aqua eyes maintain their contact with you but he doesn’t have a choice- if you scooted up less than a foot you’d be sat right on his face- there’s nothing he’s ever wanted more.

“Lost in thought?”

He cringes at your voice. Not knowing how you always get him like this. How you always have the high ground. He doesn’t know why he’s honest with you,

“I do not want you to fight with Ao’nung like that anymore.”

And you grin at him and place your palm on his cheek,

“Is that so? That means you will spar with me now?”

He couldn’t wrap his head around your obsession with being hurt? Did you pester everyone to fight with you like this? The thought makes his body move on reflex, craning his neck enough to open his mouth wide and comp down onto the exposed skin of your thigh. You bounce on his chest, pulling at his hair back with a whine in response.

“If you are jealous you can just say so you do not have to bite me, you child.”

He can only smile because it’s his hair you’re yanking at. You’re sitting on him and-

“I’m not jealous. Not in this moment anyways,”

One of his hands slides up your hunched forward torso, and he’s pulling you down by the woven fabric of your top. You’re not sure if he’s pulling you down to kiss him. You figure with the state of things though a kiss wasn’t an unwelcome advance, and you’re not surprised when his head lifts to kiss you back.

It’s better than any silly fantasy you had ever let yourself drift into because he’s warm and real and he’s kissing you like you’re fragile because he wants you to feel safe enough to be fragile. He wouldn’t have wasted so much time becoming a competent warrior if it wasn’t to keep you safe.

“How could you think I’d want to share a brain with Ao’nung huh? I’d kill myself.” you smile against his lips, “as if I’d ever want him over you,”

And he knows you’re not lying to him as the fluff of your tail tickles against a throbbing vein in his lower stomach. How could you be lying when you’re hunched over uncomfortably while you straddle him just so you could purr into a kiss? His big hands cradling your cheeks makes you ignore the ache in your spine, and you thank Eywa he’s so big as to add ease to the position.

By some stroke of luck, his hand travels down your spine as if to soothe the ache while your tongues swirled against each other. Despite the trembling ache that plagued your lower stomach at the endearing turn of events, Rotxo kisses you, softly. As if you’re not dying for him. Even though you straddle him his chest and move against him to relieve the pressure he inflicts on you. You’re very obviously making out with him. Willingly letting his mouth explore yours at his own pace. You can’t help but slide down his torso so you could lay on top of him properly.

You couldn’t get over how wide you still had to spread your legs to straddle his waist. Even though you laid over him caging his body under yours he engulfed you. You need to breathe far earlier than he does, and he finds it cute how you huff against his lips to catch your breath.

“You’re not going to let Ao’nung touch you anymore, ya?”

And he can’t help the dopey pitch of his voice as he catches your lips in a quick kiss. Not when you’re beaming down at him.

“Only if you touch me instead,”

You sound so coy considering you’re giggling above him. And when you enunciate your words with another kiss he can’t help the obnoxious chortle that leaves his lips- that’s until you bite at his bottom lip slightly,

“You are too bossy,”

But he kisses you the way you want him to. Pushing his nose against yours. He doesn’t think he can like anything more until he feels your hips grind against the lower abs of his stomach- that tighten and flex at the feeling of your now twitching core.

The confidence the both of you had mutually worked up to had you lost in your own world. You know it’s unbecoming of you both to be caught in such a situation but you had enough confidence in your privacy and even less confidence in your own self-control to do anything about it.

“Sit on my face,” it comes out as a gaspy whisper between your clanking teeth while you grind against him, “Let me take care of you instead,”

It makes you whimper above him and he swears it’s some sort of nirvana.

“I-I’ve never-” and you are mad at how wet the inside of your mouth is and yet it still offers no solace to the lump in your throat

“No’ gonna make you,”

You’re not sure if the sound of him slurring into your mouth makes you moan or the fact that your tail finds and runs across his erect member behind you.

“Obviously want you to,” and his palm is on your cheek, “wanted you on my mouth since you plopped down on me,”

He’s kissing you between his words and you know he means it. You can hear it in his voice. He just about died of excitement when he felt you propping yourself up on your knees.

Now that you’re back up he can admire your pretty body once again. He thinks this is the first time he’s ever seen you not take the lead. It made him blush- realizing how shy you had suddenly become. He’s gentle when he reaches for your thigh again, sliding up until his fingers reach the fabric of your tweng,

“Can I?”

You wondered how the sun would rise in the morning when it was trapped in his smile. Looking up at you as if you were Eywa herself. How could he possibly think you don’t want him to untie it?

You don’t know how to say yes without embarrassing yourself, so you do what any rational woman would do when the love of their life was laid between their legs. You reach up to the fabric tie of your beaded top, and let it fall from your body, plopping down in the sand next to you.

You can’t ignore the throb that plagues you at the widening of his eyes, how they instantly drop to your breasts. The only cover from his eyes are the few strands of hair.

You’re almost shocked at his fumbling fingers. Too excited to uncover you and too large for the delicate fabric, yet like all things that required a gentle hand- Rotxo succeeded at his task quickly. Obediently you let his palms guide your hips up. He is rewarded with one more sway of your tail over his quickly hardening length as tosses your bottoms in the opposite direction of your top.

You're breathing heavily when he cranes his neck to look at your most intimate flesh,

“Oh, Eywa,”

He can feel himself leaking all over his stomach at the sight of your bare cunt against his torso, and the warm feeling of you dripping could drive him to madness.

“C’mere, give me you.”

You listen of course. He feels bad that he likes you best like this. Tentatively crawling up his large chest to place your legs on the side of his head.

He doesn’t feel bad for enjoying the view of you hovering above his face. He can’t believe he had done this. He can’t believe you’re swollen, sticky, and wet for him.

His hands are wrapping around the fat of your thighs to pull you into open-mouthed kisses against your thighs. You’re mad it feels so good- he’s not even touched you and yet your thighs twitch where he kisses.

You reward him with a real moan at the quick swipe of his tongue from the bottom of your leaking hole right across your clit. Though he didn’t truly know what he was doing, he knew what he wanted to do. That was enough. You seemed to like what he was doing regardless. He likes kissing you. Feeling the way your lips twitch against his. His tongue finds a comfortable rhythm exploring your folds. You tasted like nothing he had ever eaten before. He couldn’t compare you to anything else- and there wasn’t a thing in Pandora he’d rather in his mouth.

Though you're panting and wiggling your hips in front of his face he still wants to give you more. Wants to wrap his arms around your thighs and take care of you the way you should be taken care of. He doesn’t know why he has such a need to take care of you, especially since you had caused him so much grief. He knows you’re more than willing and capable of handling him mating you without any of this - but he can’t help it. He wants to spoon-feed the world to you; do everything for you. Even if it means doing all the work to get that pretty pussy of yours to cum in his mouth.

His desire to take care of you is probably why one of his big hands finds your hips. Why it slides across your smooth skin and his thumb hooks under your tail to push you down and forward onto his wanting mouth.

“I said sit-” he speaks into your cunt, the vibrations of his voice making you clench your stomach.

He can feel his dick jump at the way you cry at the feeling of him grinding your sensitive pussy against his wanting mouth, legs clamping down against his blood-rushed ears. When he finally slides his tongue into your twitching hole again he can’t help but reach down to squeeze at the base of his throbbing dick. Just for a second, he could pretend you were clamping down on his cock and not his rapidly exploring tongue. You’re too busy following along with the motion Rotxo’s hand around your tail provides for you to notice what he’s doing, however. When you’re so blissed out that you lean back to brace your hands onto his chest he can’t help but take in the sight of your thrown-back head. Your hair was behind you now and he could watch the night sky illuminate the swell of your breasts. He can’t be bothered to feel bad at watching you so vulnerable and unaware when he’s the one to cause it.

With the added space of you leaning off of him slightly, he was able to drag his face across your leaking cunt as if he were a starved animal ripping into a meal.

You feel dirty- for the way your head quickly snaps forwards to watch the way he shakes his head back and forth between your legs. There’s no hiding the mess below you at this point. The twinkling night does little to hide the slick connecting you to him. And you feel yourself leak even worse when his relaxed eyes blink open and he catches you staring at him. When he slows his movements to take in the look on your face.

“Ro- don’t- Rotxo-“

Embarrassment is evident in your voice despite the fact he feels like his face is burning brighter than yours. He can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that you’re sitting on his face, you’re letting him eat you out.

He wraps his lips around his new favorite part of your body, sucking the nerve into his mouth with a cruel pop. Kissing it after you cry out,

“You feelin' good?”

His words are soft, as you feel his thumb caress the underside of your tail. You only try to sit back down on his face with a wiggle of your hips. Rotxo has finally found a happy middle ground where he felt confident with you, however. Gripping your tail tighter to keep your greedy cunt off of his face.

“Answer me,”

And with his words comes a gentle graze of his sharp teeth against the pulsating sticky skin of your clit. He’s never heard you make the noise that responds to his assault. A cry or a hiss he wouldn’t know- but it was his new favorite sound. He’s only licking you- it’s only at the work of his tongue that your legs are shaking so prettily on his cheeks.

“Yes- yes you know I am-“ You start, “can you keep going now?”

It’s the fake polite voice you use that makes him scoff. He finds it endearing how badly you try to grind yourself against him in the same rhythm he had previously helped you with. But with his grip on your tail, and the punishingly slow strokes of his tongue against your slit you stayed bubbling on the edge. You’ve never been so pliable for anyone before, he thinks. He’s never seen you so whiney over anything.

“Rotxo please!”

Your please is a little too mean. It wasn’t you asking him to make you feel good. You were being bossy and rude. Red face screwed up in frustration as if you had still been scolding him for the fact he wouldn’t hit you. Maybe it’s why his other hand leaves your hip for a second to swat at the fat of your ass.

Between you sidling forward onto his face, and the fact that your pretty little tail wagged across his painfully hardened cock he couldn’t help but moan right into you.

The guttural moan of his deep voice sends a shock wave up your body that has one hand digging into the sand next to his head and the other hand pulling at the mess of curls on top of his head. Maybe he understood your annoyance at his stubborn desire to hold back before. Because right now you are doing the same.

All he wanted was for you to cum. So one hand returned to your pretty tail to help you grind your clit against his face. It was cute how you tensed at the feeling of the tip of his fingers that had risen up against the hole that so willingly leaked all over him. You don’t even give him a chance to ask if you’re okay with it before you sink back into his fingers, ruining the kiss Rotxo had just begun assaulting your clit with.

The sight of spit connecting his swollen lips to your cunt, and the feeling of one of his finger reaching deeper in you than you had ever been able to touch makes you tremble above him. He’s rocking you against his face while he begins an almost punishing assault on your hole.

In his defense, he wasn’t truly aware of how punishing the pace was. The only thing he was focused on was the steady ripple of your ass against his knuckles. So blissfully unaware of how much louder your voice had gotten. The wet sound he was greeted with as he slid a second finger inside you only spurred the speed of his hand more.

“I- I… Ro I feel-”

And he feels the tip of your tail softly lay across his aching cock as though to anchor yourself as you arch forward into his face, thighs trembling. He moans at the ache of his scalp as you pull him into you and he can’t help but open his eyes wide.

Eywa is Rotxo glad he did. He knows he’s going to remember this for the rest of his life- the view of your pretty legs choking him in a vice grip and pussy clenching up on his fingers while you practically scream. You don’t listen to yourself though, not when you’re preoccupied with the sound of him slurping against you. As if he’s never enjoyed something more- and he’s smiling against you as he alternates, scraping his teeth against you, and sloppily kissing you though your orgasm. All while his fingers still slowly curl inside of you.

You feel like you should be embarrassed, panting above him- trying to force oxygen into your deprived lungs and brain. He doesn’t make you feel awkward though. Not even for a second. Not while he’s petting your thigh and smiling up at you between his movements.

“You’re alright?”

The hum of his voice was questioning. You couldn’t help that part of you felt as though he was telling you that you were alright though. Maybe that’s why you felt so at ease.

“Better than alright,”

Your coquettish grin has him pawing at your thighs to scoot you back down off of him. Even though he’s never enjoyed doing something more than taking care of you, the feeling of your tail twitching against the tip of his throbbing cock had raised an unfamiliar pain in his stomach. Besides, the sinful sounds you had been making for him; the pretty dazed face had coaxed you into had made him confident enough to not want to be under you any longer.

You instinctually wrap your arms around his neck as you feel him begin to sit himself up. One arm wrapped tightly under your ass (giving himself the luxury of wrapping one of his meaty palms around the meatier fat of your ass) to keep you from sliding down into his lap until he had sat up completely, and could position you comfortably.

You can’t help but smile at how disheveled he looks. His hair is all askew from you yanking at it and his face is completely blushed and wet from all the effort. The way the corners of his lips twitch into a smile by the time your bare slit makes contact with him is almost mischievous in a way. As if he was expecting the gasp that falls from your lips as he drags you down across the tweng that painfully constricts the parts of him that hadn’t hardened out of it. It finally relieves some of the pressure knotting at the pit of his stomach. You could never wrap your mind around how sitting on his lap could be so calming yet intimidating. You can’t help but reach for the sand covered curls at the back of his head pulling desperately to fill the gap the height difference caused. Wanting nothing more than for him to bless you with another kiss.

Of course, he obliges. He doesn’t think he could ever deny you a single thing now. Not when you’re grinding down onto him while kissing him. Dragging the fabric across the both of you, and Eywa when you run your tongue across his lips with a giggle he has to stop himself from cumming between the both of you.

Feeling the way his tip leaks against your belly button has your heart beating so impossibly fast that the rattling it causes in your rib cage hurts.

“We do not have to do anything else,”

He doesn’t want to remind you. He really does not. He wants nothing more than to sink you down onto him- but he doesn’t want you to feel pressured. To feel unsafe. If you had never touched him again he’d have lived happily with this moment like gold in his memory. He thanks Eywa however, when you whine at the insinuation, thread your fingers around his kuru, and your pretty snarl makes contact with his own teeth.

“Don’t make me go and find Ao’nu-”

You don’t even finish your hiss before he swats at your ass again, appreciating the way your skin recoils, and thighs tremble at his sides and for you to yelp into him. How dare you say his name with your hand where it was? Has he been too nice to you these years? Too gentle with you?

“Watch it,”

You had heard Rotxo growl before. Never at you- but you had seen what he was capable of when he did get aggressive with people. Yes, he was a sweet and gentle boy- but he was also rowdy, brawling, and all too bellicose. But because he was normally so saccharine to you, you had forgotten all about the rest of Rotxo. Big, honorable, and strong Rotxo who you had seen slam down elder warriors with years of experience on him like they were weightless. Those same muscular, intricately tattooed arms were now using the fat of your hips and ass to grind you down against him. As if to make up for the cruelty of your words your other hand reaches down, and though you had frustrated him he can’t help but buck his hips into you at the feeling of your hand sliding down the hood of his cock so you could run a thumb across his exposed tip.

“I want you. I thought I was being pretty obvious. Reya makes fun of me for it.”

You don’t know why you whisper to him, you don’t think you had ever been as soft-spoken before.

“I am just stupid-”

And his frustrations leave him at the feeling of your hands loosening around both his hand and kuru. He can’t help but slide his face against yours, slotting his nose against yours. He breaths against your face once before he speaks,

“You are not a stupid girl,” and there’s a kiss placed on your cheek under your eye as one palm raises to cradle the opposite one, “you are at least smart enough to undo a knot, yeah?”

He keeps his usual warm and syrupy baritone voice, yet there’s a condescending undertone to his voice that shoots straight down to your core. It makes your ears flatten against your head, and your eyes widen. He was almost bitter that all it took to intimidate you was to imply he wanted to impale you on his cock. Why did he waste all this time becoming such a revered deep-sea diver and warrior?

“Or are you, pretty girl?”

There’s more jest in his voice; his heart swelling at how cute you were when you weren’t being a menace. So cute in fact that he can’t help but kiss the crown of your head as he watches both of your hands reach down to untie his tweng. He supposes he could have just yanked it down, but he can’t help the rush that flows through him at the sight of you doing it. He swears he’ll ride this high for months- felt like he could fight a nalutsa all by himself.

That’s until he sees you sit up on his knees and realize what you’re going to do- what you want to do. It finally sinks in for him. You want him. Your fingers are on his kuru, your cums on his face- you chose him. Suddenly the sea breeze isn’t enough to keep him from overheating. He’s too aware of the sound of the waves and the sand that covers his back and hair and the fact that-

“Sayrìp,”

His eyes instantly leave your swollen pussy and raise to your face, locking with your eyes obediently. You smile up at him and he’s sure his pupils are as wide as yours.

“Are you okay?”

How can he not be okay when you're kissing his mandible? Teeth teasing against the pulse you’ve risen should drive him to dizzying madness but only acts to ground him back into reality,

“Jus’ cannot believe you’re here with me.”

It gives him a chance to swallow the lump in his throat,

“Who else would I be with, skxawng?”

And you're grasping at the base of him to hold his heavy leaning cock steady; he whines at the sight of your spit drooling past your pretty lips and hisses at the feeling of it plopping against him. He supposes you could use all the help you could get if you hoped to take him.

As you slide the girthy blunt tip against your slit he rewards you with a moan. A deep sound that reverberates against his chest. It makes you all too eager to try and sink down onto the tip.

But Rotxo’s arms are stronger than you and he doesn't want you to do that, so he uses that strength against you. Despite being so giving and nice on the regular, rolling over and letting you boss him around and do what you wanted he was going to mate you the way he wanted to, and you were going to take it.

When the jolt of his hands moving to hold your hips in place makes your pussy flutter against his tip he has to remind himself of that before he loses all of his resolve and pushes you down onto his length in one swift movement. The thought made him cringe. He didn’t waste all this time opening you up for him just to hurt you,

“You going to let me mate you, tsyeym?” He asks

If you think you could roll your eyes without invoking the hunter's wrath you would have. He was acting as though you hadn’t been pulling and tugging on his prettily kept braid since you had first felt his imposing length against you.

“I am not above begging,”

Though you’re chuckling softly in his ear your fingers are dancing down his kuru, and when your finally twirl the ends of his hair covering his tswin around your slender fingers he can’t help but slide just the first couple of inches of him into you. He can’t tell if he feels your fingers caressing his nerves more or the far too-tight ring of your pussy sucking him into you.

“Ma’Rotxo-”

Your free hand braces yourself down on his bicep, digging your fingernails into his flesh as if you’re the one overstimulated.

“Thought you were tough, huh?” He chides, “Wanna fight with me but can’t even take me bullyin’ my cock into ya, huh?”

If you were mean you would have tugged on his braid, giving him a semblance of the perineum sting you felt at the girth of him-

“Don’t be an asshole to me, Rotxo.”

You’re trying to be bossy still and it doesn’t suit the fact that your body feels so pliable in his hands. He doesn’t even dignify you with an answer, not when he wants you to be flush against his hips. Not when he wanted you to feel as much of him as you could before he made you feel even more. He feels a little bad that you’re so small in comparison to the Metkayina people. Though an embarrassing part of him loves the idea of spending the rest of his life drilling into your warmth until you’re molded to him he worries about how sore you’d be in the morning. He promises himself that he’d be extra kind to you tomorrow- tend to anything you could want. He will take care of you as a thank you for the way you were about to let him use you.

You couldn’t think of a time when Rotxo hadn’t taken care of you- this felt no different. So when you feel one of his hands caress you on the mission to reach around your body and pull you apart further so that more of him could slide inside all you do is huff and give into his guidance.

“Look at you,”

He sounds winded at the feeling of you clenching against him. You’re surprised he enters as easily as he does. Surprised the pressure doesn’t hurt as bad as you feared it would. Especially when one of his thumbs moves over your clit in soft quick motions,

“Just gotta relax a lil’ more.”

His eyes are fixed down; watching you take him inside of you. He doesn’t even care anymore that the end of his braid is held in your soft hand. He ignores the uncomfortable throb that shoots through it. He only has to endure seconds more of it before he’s rewarded with the slippery plap of your hips meeting. He feels bigger than ever when your hands leave their respected body parts to grab at his cheeks. He’s sure you meant to kiss him but you only managed to moan against his open mouth.

“That’s my girl,” he kisses you, “Took it all so good.” another kiss,

“Fucking Metkayina- too big,” Of course, you’re grumbling right now. Of course, you have a grumpy little voice even when he’s in your guts.

“You are rude,” one of his arms wrapped around you and pulled you flush against him, partially to appreciate your warmth but mostly so he could reach around and grab your own braid.

“Shouldn’t even touch this now, huh?”

His soft eyes give him away, and he knows you know him too well. You know that once you pull his braid over his shoulder that he’d rush to bring yours closer.

You were right of course, he’s quick to hold the bioluminescence of your tswin’s tendrils painfully close to his own. There’s something that makes your stomach tighten painfully at the sight. There was something so exciting about the fact that you were so close to being with him- all you had to do was dip your hand forward. The thought has you rolling your hips down against him to alleviate the throb of your clitoris. It’s all he needs before his other hand leaves your hip to grab your wrist that holds his tswin.

“Look at me,”

You’re so good for him. So obedient when your eyes instantly snap from where your hands almost make you one- to his eyes. He thinks you’re so beautiful. Sultry and warm and so undeniably wild. So easily he gives into the magnetic force that’s been trying to convince him to pull your tswin into his.

He thinks his heart stops at the way your eyes haze over and you melt into him. The way you practically purr as he feels his lap grow wetter. Now you were all of those things- but you were also his.

“Oh, Eywa,”

He feels bad for how roughly his one arm pulls you into him, he feels how much fuller it makes you feel but he has to feel your heartbeat against him. He thinks this is bliss- that he can’t get anything better than this. Then you begin scooting your hips back and forth against his. His hands are too quick to reach for your hair, digging his fingers into it.

The pretty way your face screws up as your pace quickens has him star-struck. The echo of your pleasure tickled his lower stomach. He can’t help but lift his hips to meet yours; the slapping sound of skin as you bounced against him is enough to spur him into near madness. Both of your throats are caught- stunned in silence over the sheer amount of feeling tsaheylu adds.

He feels bad because he knows you feel so good going at your own pace and using him to fill yourself to your heart's content. He can’t focus on that guilt when he has such an uncontrolled need to be on top of you. His hands halting your hips have you confused, and you’re only more shocked when he’s heaving you up and tossing the both of you until your back is against the sand and your hips are hiked on his firm thighs.

He doesn’t even give you a second to take in the change, slipping himself all the way into you in one fluid movement, palms returning to the fat of your hips so he could roll and grind down into you. He loves the way you clench as he rolls across your g-spot. The view is beautiful, and the way your hands reach between your thighs and rub your fingers against yourself for him only drives him further into ecstasy.

“So pretty for me,” He loves how easy it is to make you clench and throb. “My pretty mate,”

His eyes are fixed on the way your breasts bounce at the power of his thrusts and the way your stomach bulges. He knows if he focuses on your pretty face he’d be finished the way your wide eyes don’t focus on anything and the dark purple stain of your blush. He’s never quite seen your markings glow so bright. He’d never live down finishing before he even got a chance to fuck you properly- before he could really appreciate the view. So he grabs at your hips and wiggles you side to side in an effort to stimulate you further,

“Let me fuck you for real now baby,” and his hand travels up your legs that are bent against your bodies, straightening one leg over his shoulder so he could kiss your calf. How could you say no when he asks so sweetly while he was so deep inside of you?

“Please? Can you please move again?”

He forgot you could be so polite when you want to be. He’s all smiles, starting at a comfortable pace. His speed picked up quickly as he could use your whole leg as an anchor, but he still stays relatively shallow. Just to give you enough time to adjust before he picks up a punishing pace.

He knows he’s fucking you entirely too loud. He knows the way you moan under him is entirely too loud. He knows the nighttime waves aren’t loud enough to drown out what he’s doing to you but all it does is spur him on. He wishes you’d be louder but he knows you have more dignity than he does.

How can he slow down when you’re telling him he’s so good? You’re gasping as he falls forward onto one hand for more leverage. Still holding your hips up by one leg so he could slam into you. The change of position has you dragging sinfully across him and it almost distracts you from the sound of his grunts. It was magnifying seeing him worked up over you- he wasn’t even in a rut and had desired you so deeply.

“Gon- Shit. Roxto 'm gonna cum,”

The way he reacted to your words is what sends you over the edge. The way he hunches over and begins to slam into you while his eyes bore into yours. The sloppy sound of you cumming all over him and your eyes rolling into you head bring him closer more than the feeling of you clamping down on his cock. He didn’t think you could squeeze tighter and it’s embarrassing how easy you make him cum. Just barely enough time to slip out and shoot himself all over you.

He means to hit your stomach honestly, expecting it to pool where you had been slightly folded. Except he had forgotten how worked up you had gotten him- how badly he had wanted to cum in you. The sheer amount that painted your warm stomach and azure boobs should have embarrassed him but the sight of his cum shooting further and globbing on your chin and lips consumes him. You lay half folded under him, grasping onto him while you panted. Covered in his cum. No one could get near you without knowing you were his.

He can’t help but act on his desires and lean down to cage his big arms around you. Running his tongue up your chin and across your lips. You taste the salt on his lips when he immediately kisses you, and at the bite of his teeth, you’re opening your mouth so he can spit him into your mouth.

It should be raunchy and make you feel like a whore but he does it so softly and kisses you so libidinously that the swirl of his tongue against yours has you both purring into each other's mouth.

You’re perplexed at how quickly he’s back to sweet Rotxo. Kissing you gently and caressing skin that just knew the punishing grip of his strength.

He’s tall when he sits up on his knees, and now that he’s not hunched over rutting into you it truly dawns on you just how much bigger he is than you.

He scoffs as he looks around him and you’re almost confused until you watch him lean over to grab both of your bottoms before he’s grinning down at you and scooping his hands under you.

His cheeks hurt from smiling at the sound of you giggling foolishly at him as he heaves you into the air. You're both red-faced and covered in sweat and sand and he can’t wait to walk into the cooling water with you in his arms.

[marksbear]

Hear me out, 141 boys x southern/cowboy male reader, he wears the his hat and/or boots round base cause it reminds him of home

I can imagine Soap toying with him and making Wild West jokes and the like

Maybe even a reference to the “you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy”?

I'm listening loud and clear my friend! I love anything about southern people and their culture and all that jazz. SO I hope you like this!

And only Soap and Price IM SORRY! Its just that i'm in the hospital trying to get my shit together and physically I can't handle writing too much. But I will add more characters

141 Boys x Cowboy reader.

Soap!_________________________________________________________

🤍 "What's with the hat?" Soap asks looking at Y/n while he takes down an enemy. "What 'ch ya mean?" Y/n answers already knowing where this is leading. "The cowboy hat. Really? In the middle of battle." 🤍 BURST OUT LAUGHING WHEN HE HEARD YOUR ACCENT (But he literally can't be talking.)

🤍 He likes to mimic your accent. 🤍 "It's hot today in'it?" Y/n says sitting down on next to Soap in the base. "The hell did you say?" Soap asks whipping his head towards you. 🤍 BOY dies trying to understand you sometimes BUT always makes an effort to understand you. 🤍 When he first saw you wear a cowboy hat he almost fainted. He was weak in the knees when he saw it. 🤍 When it's Halloween he'll dress up as a thief/ outlaw and you be the sheriff. Both of you acting like the role. Next time he'll want to be a cowgirl while your the cowboy. 🤍 Loves it when you give him a cheesy nickname it doesn't even matter how strange it is to "Hey huckleberry." even to "Hi my horseshoe."

🤍 IF you can ride a horse he'll just go feral about it. Begs you to teach him how to ride or at least let him sit on the horse with you. 🤍 Steals your boots all the time. Like he does it so much and so often it's basically his boots as well. 🤍"I thin'ak you're in the wrong part of town." Soap says in his annoying fake southern accent whenever you go in the wrong direction or something. 🤍 "So...You live on a ranch or what? Or you live on a farm y'know with the animals and all that." "I told you millions of times. I live in a ranch over here, but I got me a farm in Texas." Y/n answers with a groan. 🤍 "Am I your stallion?" Soap asks after millions of things about southern states and their slang. "You? my stallion? Darling have you been searchin up southern things again."

🤍 He melts when you call him any nickname in your accent. Like knees weak. Even if it's an insult he wouldn't even care tbh.

🤍 Takes your hat almost everyday. Wear it around the base and run or hide when he sees yo

🤍 Downright submissive when you whisper anything to him with your accent.

Soap walking around the base suddenly stopped by a pair of arms wrapping around his waist holding him in a tight grip. "Did you know...You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy?" You whisper in his ear after sneaking up on him. Soap squirms in his arms. "C'mon since you always wearin my hat, how bout I show you the consequences."

Price!_________________________________________________________

💚 Understand the struggles of having an hard accent to understand.

💚 He tries his best to teach the team about your accent and the words you say to help them understand you.

💚 Likes to listen to your rambling or stories just to hear your accent sometimes. It makes him feel so calmed and at peace.

💚 You make him chuckle every time you give him a weird southern nickname. "Captain honeybee?" "Yes L/n?"

💚 Likes to compare accents with you and the others. Like one big group of men just swapping words in their accent or language.

💚 MAKES Asks you to read things for him.

💚 He loves the fact that your country.

💚 Likes to watch you from the far when your wearing your boots and hat he loves them so much and he thinks you look great with them.

💚 If you have a thick accent he will help you try to lose it even though hes struggling with his own.

💚 Quick to give you comfort when ever you miss home or something.

💚 Once a moth both of you go on a trip back to the country and y'all stay at a farm taking care of all the barn animals together. His favorite animal is probably the goats.

💚 Wears your cowboy hat when he thinks your not looking.

You give him your hat, watching him put it on his head. Price looks at you suspiciously when he sees your smug smirk. "You wear that hat, you ride the cowboy." Price stares at you wide eyed and a bit caught off guard.

THE END?? GONNA ADD MORE BOYS SOON!

[chiquititaosita]

thoughts on hange w a partner who has a mexican family? LIKE I KNOOOWWWW THEY’D BE FUCKING UP THE FOOD AND LEARNING HOW TO PRESS LAS TORTILLAS BRO

Hange Zoe with a Latina (Mexicana) S/o

synopsis; hange zoe dating a latina girl good luck.

contents: fluff, sfw, hispanic culture and slang, hange is given gender neutral pronouns, insults are sometimes used as love languages.

osita note HI BABY LOVE!!! Omg I got you!!! I’m a mexicana! So this is right up my ally. I already know how most of this will go 😘🩷🌮 @backwzzds @honeybleed @euphofic @noawithlove @yourrfavzxri @loonadaworld @blkcupid @abbyslev @hangesonlyfanss @hangespublicist @mommypieck @theemrsjaeger @cottonconnielvr @killxio @hqkalon @yourrfavzxri @kenruu @chrollohearttags @roronoaswifey @sanjisblackasswife @jujuyii @hangeslovers-world @lusts1ck

- be prepared for their funeral. no seriously someone prepare hange for their funeral

-hange is very overwhelmed at first meeting your family and they have every right to be scared.

- immediately loves when you yell at them Spanish. Or someone else. They’re gonna be like. “Yeah I love her.”

- they’re gonna say something that they didn’t even know that they embarrassed themselves on accident since they’re funny unintentionally that’s what made you fall in love with them in the first place. like. “wait what did i say?”

-“you said you’re pregnant, not embarrassed.” hange just bursted out laughing with you

- will burn their hand on the comal (the flat stove) when flipping tortillas. “FUCK!”

- uses a spatula “y/n I need my hands!! I got lab work to do!!” They’re gonna try and make up excuses

- loves tamales and eats the corn husk on accident. “Wait we’re not supposed eat the wrapper??”

-Once you show them they actually eat them by unwrapping the corn husk like a present then they start loving the tamales.

- loves your families cooking. Abuela is going to force feed them. “please corazon por favor come un poco mas” (please have some more food.)

-everyone will stare at hange to see what they’re going to. “Abuela they’re going to get sick if they over eat-“ y/n is gonna try and come and save the days.

-“como que over eat!? Ellos eres un flaquitos, por que yo tiendo un vaporub y ibuprofen.” (Meaning what do you mean over eat!? They’re so skinny that’s why I have vaporub and ibuprofen)

-they’re gonna have left overs in those containers, like lunches. And come home with so many of them.

- ALWAYS HELPING IN THE KITCHEN!! LIKE A GOOD IN LAW!!

-All of the tias and tios are going to make fun of hange, challenge them to a drinking match.

- once you tell your family about Hange being a scientist, your family automatically thinks they’re a doctor like a hospital doctor bitch no the fuck they ain’t. 💀

-like one of your cousins asked. “Hange, you’re a doctor right?”

-Hange literally looked at You and said. “It’s my title but whats up?”

-“see mi hija y/n has a novie and they have a doctorates degree.”

- dancing with hange to cumbias it’s so cute! they’re learning but if y’all are dancing, they’re gonna be grabbing your hips gently and letting your head rest on their chest or shoulder depending on your height.

-caresses your hips when dancing because I say so, and always tries to be a bit mischievous when it comes to you, you’re their La Niña Rosa.

- loved the mariachi bands whenever they play anywhere. THEY GIVE THEM TIPS ALWAYS!!! SO SWEET OF THEM!!

-This fucker starts to help your dad build fucking houses, and working around with him. Just so that your dad will approve of hange.

- Hanges fucking up the food FOR SURE FOR SURE!! DEFINITELY

-the kids love hange fs.

-when drunk on modelos they’re overly affectionate with you. You just can’t help it but love that

-“Baby calm down i gotta do my hair!!” You’re screeching and they’re grabbing your titties like who doesn’t love your titties i’ll wait . Hange doesn’t give a fuck if you got tetas or not. They act like a little kid sometimes

-is always down to eat your cooking. Even the food in deep Mexico, when they go to visit your family with you.

-They’re so precious. They even made friends with a street dog!! EVEN THOUGH THEY WERENt supposed to!! because them perros are crazy

[netsue101]

Thanks so much for answering the ask on who Piri would be close with between Alfred and Arthur! Yeah I really couldn't agree more! Like, it's friendly if it's between Arthur and Piri. I think they can get along well when they talk about ghosts or even folklore. But most def he's a lot closer to Alfred. And you pinpointed everything in your reply that can be a good reason for Hima-sensei to write about soon! Honestly, I've been waiting for their interactions T__T If ever you write about Piri and Alfred, what scenarios/moments would you like them to be involved in?

BUDDY I HAVE SO MUCH THINGS I CAN THROW HERE AHAHAHAVSUAHAAHA

I'm going to start first what would most likely happen in the series, and it's them being gym Bros 😭. OKAY- but they both want to work out and gain muscle, so I have guess piri might have at least attend work outs with ame to the gym. I imagine Piri struggling his ass while America helps him and America always dragging his ass back to the gym because it's been months since his last visit. LIKE Phil attending once and stop for many months AHSBHABAHA. Them there will be a time where ame is confused why after many work outs Phil hasn't developed any and is probs a sleepers build or smth.

Also want to explore how they met! Like the filipinos are the first Asian to step foot in north America so I figured that we could explore that! Like I imagine Piri arriving in north America with Mexico welcoming him then lil America was just running around and hid from them. Piri noticed ame and tried to say hi and offer some fruits. I also like to imagine them playing together from time to time with Mexico.

I want to see Píri during his time with America during the American occupation in the 1900s. Like we get to see Lithuania work for America as to represent many European immigrants working there. I wanna see Piri too being there. I want to see Piri trying every single tactic to make America agree to give him freedom, from complementing him to pissing him off JABSJABAAJANA. Also I want to see Piri introducing Yo-yo to ame and loads of other things!

Here is some modern HCs interaction. It's Piri absolutely bluntly shits on him HABAHABA. Like Piri having a pass to insult and tease America and America just go, "He is just joking, he doesn't mean it. I know this because I know him!". They also argue over things right now and there. Also America teases Piri back from time to time but not as much as how Piri bluntly teases America. ALSO I want them to explore eachother's culture, mostly Piri's tho HABSJABAJA.

I also want to have the bitter sweet moment between them. I don't know how to say it in words. I can't really describe how I want it to happen but I really want it that bitter sweet moments plastered often in their relationship.

Also...... I think America found his hero Complex through comics and Piri during ww2 is like the final nail to it... 😭

[wirewitchviolet]

Does anyone actually like the whole "this total loser is the chosen one" thing?

You start playing some new game. Immediately, you are introduced to the protagonist. He's a total deadbeat loser idiot who has no greater ambition in life beyond playing games/becoming a cool rock star somehow without learning to play an instrument or form a band/watching some TV show. But through just the absolute sheer dumb luck of being in the right place at the right time, he gets The Thing, that lets him do main character in a video game stuff. Much to the frustration of this cool competent badass woman who's actively invested in saving the world and has a concrete plan to do it. Our accidental hero can't be bothered to care about any of that, and any time she's talking he either tunes out completely or sexually harasses her. Then once she eventually gives up trying to explain him he says something like "now here's the part where I do my thing!" and you jump into the action of doing 3 hit combos to enemies or whatever.

I hate that character. I can't stand him. His presence makes me not even want to touch a game, which is a real shame because I swear the paragraph above describes like... half of them. Also most shonen anime come to think, the bulk of superhero media, and a surprising amount of fantasy stuff.

Now, I understand why we have that guy. The thinking is, he's "relatable." We're making a not particularly challenging piece of escapist media, we're assuming most people who are going to be interested are losers who just sit on their couch all day, and we're also assuming they're at-least-mildly-creepy dudes even when demographic info suggests a given genre/medium appeals primarily to women.

Does anyone actually want that, though? I'm not some pathetic dude on a couch, so I probably wouldn't get the "he's just like me!" factor regardless, but like, I remember being a small child and having media constantly cram some annoying piece of garbage kid into everything for me to "relate to" and I was never able to stand any of them either.

Like if I'm watching Transformers the Movie as a kid, I am just rolling my eyes every time we have the dorky little kid going fishing or trying to use power armor, and for that matter as an adult I'm not too big on the pink girly one playing babysitter and being flirty. I'd be cool just giving all that screen time over to Kupp and Grimlock thanks.

And really, it always seems like a huge insult to whoever you're trying to give a relatable stand-in to. Some deadbeat loser who'd just be sitting on the couch watching TV if he didn't get a magic yo-yo or whatever isn't exactly an aspirational sort of character. Even if that's where you'd picture yourself at the start of the cool action narrative, if it were you, you'd want to get your act together and live up to the heroic role you fell into, right?

Like, recently I've been marathoning through Farscape for like the 5th time because a friend had never seen it, and there's a show where the protagonist is just a big fish out of water nerd in a crazy setting constantly making obscure pop culture references that absolutely nobody else is possibly going to have the context for, and I can sure as hell personally relate to that! But the key difference is, he doesn't suck. He does his best to adapt to situations and show compassion and actually learn how stuff he doesn't get works, so he's, you know, likeable. He's not some complete loser who only gets by because he has the spoon of destiny or whatever.

Actually come to think of it, I'm really combining two separate media trends I can't stand here. Loser protagonists get on my nerves even when they aren't the chosen one, and even when they aren't a total loser, I kinda hate chosen one narratives too.

Like... have you ever played a Bethesda game? They always want to do this whole bit where you come from the humblest of roots and go on to save the world or whatever, but they just cannot for the life of them wait until you've actually started accomplishing cool stuff before everyone starts in with the totally over the top hero worship. Just, "behold! This stranger to our lands has picked up the empty soda can and tossed it in the recycling bin! Truly such a feat of heroics means this is no mere mortal before us, but the great one foretold in legend!"

Like, can we please just have narratives where the protagonist is a decent person, who accomplishes things by virtue of actual competence and/or determination, and any respect or admiration they might receive is actually properly earned? Is that too much to ask? And if that IS too much to ask from a protagonist, can we at least stop treating members of the supporting cast who pick the slack up like total garbage?

And speaking of getting treated like garbage/the concept of supporting, I still don't know how I'm going to get through the winter with a roof over my head.

[obsidiendo]

[ Freedom ]

" YO! DUSSMAN! " fogado booms as he approaches duessel quickly. he's covered in tomato sauce, looks slightly loopy, and half of his tulle decor has come undone, but he looks like he's having a great time. a fantastic time, even.

" remember when you said i should learn the lance or i'd be maidenless at the ball? well, guess what! " he leans in with a knowing glimmer in his eye, like he's about to drop some mind-blowing factoid. " i am maidenless for the ball! but i can also do this! "

following up fogado's words comes a dance one can only describe as unique. his hands come up to his eyes for a second before swinging down in time with a skip-in-place. he starts moving around duessel while performing this "dance" as though trying to both show off and goad duessel into doing the same.

" i can't remember what this one was called, but we do this one at parties all the time in solm! " fogado offers while still doing this odd ritual. " it's, like, the griddle or something. "

Fogado is clearly having a good time, and Duessel cannot help but crack a smile. There are few who get genuine smiles out of him these days, but he has a soft spot for Fogado -- he's not meant to have favorite students, but he's only human.

He goes to hand Fogado a glass of water as he proclaims his maidenless title (one that Duessel shares, in a sense, if we're being technical), but is taken aback by his...

. .... Duessel is not often bewildered. He is right now.

"That is..." he does not want to insult anyone's culture. He does not want to make jokes about what Fogado has just done. But... what? was that?

"The griddle? Is that one of those dances from that... that new game that is going around? What is it called... Fourteen Nights? Two Weeks? Something like that?"

[spanishskulduggery]

Hola! Acabo de comprar el libro "Orgullo Prieto" por Tenoch Huerta, el quien interpreta a Namor en la nueva pelicula de Black Panther. Aun no lo he empezado, pero tengo una pregunta: se que "prieto" significa alguien con piel oscuro, pero deberia decirlo como alguien blanco? No se si es una palabra que solo las personas en el grupo en cuestion deberian decir -- es un poco de contexto social que yo falto, como alguien aprendiendo espanol y que tambien no es latino. Quiero ser respetuoso. Gracias!

Tengo mucho que decir sobre los aspectos culturales y todo eso, pues tendré que recurrir al inglés porque es demasiado y hablaré demasiado.

I have to preface this by saying I'm not Mexican, I don't speak for Mexicans or any nationality or ethnicity. I can only share what I know.

I would say it would be best to hear from someone who is a native speaker how they feel about it and where they are, I imagine you're going to see different feelings from different areas in Latin America, and probably within Mexico itself.

Followers/Native speakers, what do you think?

In my limited experience, it's yes and no. Yes it can be used pejoratively, but no it isn't always.

It's definitely not the kind of word you'd want to mess up using though

But in the case of Mexico, I wouldn't use that word as I'm very white and also not Mexican so I would be worried I'd come out sounding like an imperialist; but that's me. It's not that the word is always offensive (I believe), but there are people who use it as an insult. When people are using it as an insult in Mexico, it tends to carry a very negative stereotype. When Tenoch Huerta was talking about his experiences, there were people who called him a prieto in a way that implied that he was uppity and didn't know his place

I believe in some areas of Mexico it's less pejorative than others, but it's one of those things that it depends on the region and above all it depends on the intention

If you're trying to err on the side of caution, the correct word that is almost always perfectly fine to say is moreno/a which refers to people with dark skin, dark eyes, or dark hair. It is also the basic word for "brunette", so you may have to specify piel morena "dark skin". But in general, moreno/a is the most universally accepted word that will not get you into trouble

Please also know that moreno/a can refer to any ethnicity, the word negro/a for la gente negra "black people" usually gets used with people of African ancestry. The word prieto/a on the other hand - in Mexico at least - to me makes me think of people of indigenous ancestry with very dark skin, so it's like a different identity. I believe (but am not certain) that in other countries especially in the Caribbean it can be used for people of African descent too, so it's also a regional difference. And I believe even in the US, in a place like Louisiana, prieto/a can often refer to dark-skinned Creole people or black people in general

If you're looking at etymology, prieto/a refers to "black" the color, but as a descriptor of people it's regional who you're talking about

Now onto the things that I know which is more cultural and might give you more info in general...

It can be used offensively, but there are times when it does not mean that - and it can depend on the country, because the word can be used by other countries and can have less of a pejorative meaning

The general word prieto/a means "swarthy", and in some cases it refers to those of indigenous descent or mixed race that have skin that's very dark, and in some contexts they're said to "almost be black", which is from the times of colonialism where indigenous people, African people, and European people were in the same countries/regions/societies. But there was a clear distinction and "castes" based on someone's lineage and racial background

You have to remember that the word mestizo/a meaning "mixed-race" also does mean "mongrel" or "mutt"; and though it traditionally now refers to people of mixed indigenous roots [commonly it's a mix of indigenous and European; it's commonly said that Hernán Cortés the famous conquistador and his mistress La Malinche had a child who is known in history as the first mestizo; his name is usually understood to be Martín Cortés el Mestizo].

The word itself means "mixed together", but for people who value "purity" of blood, mestizo/a is an insult, and it's very antiquated like the castes

Also, when I say "castes" I mean there were specific words for specific mixes of bloodlines [if you're reading older things you'll see indio/a, prieto/a, mulato/a, mestizo/a, zambo/a or sambo/a... not many have totally carried over into modern Spanish except in certain contexts or etymologies, aside from maybe mestizo/a and mulato/a which I think most people recognize]

And within castes, there was colorism and so in many countries, not just Mexico, you'll find there are words for lighter-skinned people and words for darker-skinned people, and sometimes they're used as basic nouns and sometimes they're used as insults. The words for darker-skinned people as insults comes out as saying they're animalistic, savage, stupid, or sometimes uppity. The words for lighter-skinned people as insults come out as something like saying they think they're too good for everyone, they're pretentious, they're not really connected to the culture, and things like that.

Colorism in Latin America is far more present than "racism" as we would see it in the US, where even in the same families or communities, your skin tone might change how others treat you. Colorism in Latin America is very much also linked to classism, with lighter skinned people being treated better and having a better chance to marry upwards, which makes sense when you consider the history of imperialism and slavery in many countries in the Americas not just Latin America

There's even a fairly common expression in Spanish that I did not know was racist when I learned it but it was aunque la mona se vista de seda, mona se queda which means "call it what it is" but it literally means "even though the female monkey wears silk, she's still a monkey"... which I think speaks for itself

...

All of that aside, prieto/a in some Latin American countries means "really really dark", it's considered even darker than regular moreno/a "tan/dark-skin", and the other word that gets used is sometimes trigueño/a which you'd say as like "olive-skinned" or "dark"

Generally it just comes out as "swarthy"

In Spain, the word prieto/a can be "black" as in the color, but it could also be "tight" or "tightly-fitted" since the word comes from apretar "to squeeze" [your general word for "tight" is ajustado/a just FYI]

It doesn't quite have the same cultural connotations in Spain as far as I know, but in countries with colonial history it could, given that darker-skinned people in different countries were and still sometimes are treated a certain way or given certain jobs/roles in society, a word like prieto/a could be used as a way to "remind someone of their place"

(Also note that Prieto can be a surname, so it's not inherently racist but if you said it in the wrong place in the wrong way you might offend some people)

...

As you can probably tell this is one of those big issues with not a lot of good answers, and your experiences will vary.

[v-anrouge]

and im so in favour of self-ships. i would bomb whoever shits on it, or think it cringe. girl so fucking what yo mama don't cringe when i plow her ass at night not everything is cringe! ive seen people label utterly normal and mundane things as cringe so as much as the fear of being mocked and ridiculed is real, all these people are just bitter and really stupid. do cringe things! life is so painfully short and its best spent doing cringe stuff that makes you happy. if there are things i find cringe most of the times it's really just harmless so i make myself realize that these people aren't disturbing the peace and they're entitled to their happiness much as the next person, even if it's through unconventional means. i move on with my life and its made me a much better and happier person. for every 5000 cringe haters there is 1 cringe supporter who would body all them. ship yourself with your faves!! your faves would fucking LOVE YOU! like yea floyd would affectionately dribble you like a basketball what of it. or if your fave is vil then he'd kiss you all over till your skin is perpetually red from his lipstick. ok. they'd care for you. i also care for all my cringe brethren. cringe and free is the way to go

- c

GET THEM ANONNNN im a very strong cringe culture anti because i spent years of my childhood not allowing myself to do what i wanted because i was terrified id be mocked and insulted like i saw people do to others, now im trying to heal that by doing what i love everytime i want to, you only live once, make the most out of it

be cringe, be happy

[dalia1784]

I posted 11,516 times in 2022

57 posts created (0%)

11,459 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@livingwithrogues

@azura-fox

@90smovies

@itissadbutitsmy-life

@evilblot

I tagged 125 of my posts in 2022

#disney - 38 posts

#ducktales - 20 posts

#horace horsecollar - 13 posts

#lunaris - 11 posts

#general lunaris - 11 posts

#clarabelle cow - 9 posts

#mimi curiosa - 8 posts

#90s - 7 posts

#chip and dale rescue rangers - 6 posts

#the super mario bros movie - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 107 characters

#this was only because mom wasn't able to get tickets to the 1996 101 dalmatians remake. i was 4 at the time

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I am so sorry.... But not really...

22 notes - Posted June 10, 2022

#4

If I can be honest with you guys, after rewatching the episode They Put A Moonlander On The Earth!, I feel like the whole episode was just way too mean spirited to the Moonlanders. Now don’t get me wrong it had some really good moments and lots of amazing facial expressions utilized in animation. But I feel like people only remember this episode and only liked it because that one scene and that one scene only. But in my honest opinion I feel like the whole episode just undermined the entire Moonlander race, not to mention undermining Penumbra and Gibbous as characters. Cause from what I’ve seen since this episode aired, all anyone remembers it for is that Penumbra “comes out” at the very end and nothing more.

One of my main problems is the fact that the whole episode invalidates Penumbra being homesick. It’s clear she wants to go back but most of the time the characters treat her homesickness as just “Oh she’s a grump that doesn’t know how to have any fun.” But then just runs with it by making it seem as though that really was the case and not “She misses home, maybe we can make her stay feel like home until the rocket is ready.” Like seriously what if she had actual family she was trying to get back to?? Also what kind of message are they trying to send out ending the episode with her saying that she’s only staying because her “friends and family” can’t take care of themselves!? That just rubbed me the wrong way especially as it was just used a ship teasing.

Another one that stuck out like a sore thumb, was the whole “all of the Moonlanders stayed on Earth” thing! Pardon my language but I call bullshit! I 100% doubt that the entire race stayed on Earth and dismantled all their rockets over 90s fashion, snap bracelets, and yo-yos! The episode makes it seem as though they completely abandoned their planet (yes I am referring to the Moon as a planet for the sake of this point) and culture. Basically oh I don’t know what’s that term I’m looking for, oh yeah: Cultural Genocide! It makes absolutely no sense and is very insulting to the Moonlanders. It makes sense to incorporate said Earth things into their culture and fashion or even make their own variation of these things on the Moon. Also why not make it seem as though only a small handful stayed behind to establish like their own enclave/ district to share Moon culture with the Earthers that are genuinely curious and the rest went home to help rebuild and establish like some trade connection between Earth and Moon? One thing I will say is that it makes sense for Palus to stay, as what if she took up rank as the Moon’s new general and is in a way trying to establish peace between both planets.

Also how was Glomgold being a racist jackass to the Moonlanders funny!? Again it rubs me the wrong way that Glomgold constantly tries to enforce Gibbous to identify as a Martian. It’s not funny and just feels uncomfortable. Like how would you feel if you were constantly forced to identify as anything but your actual race, gender, or sexuality? You wouldn’t like it and it’s definitely not something to joke about. It’s flat out microagression. Also why is Gibbous being portrayed as blindly following orders in this episode? I feel like this stomped down any development as a character, as he should have learned something from the invasion about blindly following orders. But no the whole episode makes him seem like he’s so naïve and learned nothing to the point that blindly follows Glomgold like a puppy believing everything he says like it’s the word of god.

I needed to finally air that out cause man that had bothered me since the episode aired. I know people are gonna say that the show was canceled and therefore couldn’t fully wrap things up, but that doesn’t excuse the problems with season 3.

34 notes - Posted August 8, 2022

#3

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR CHIP AND DALE RESCUE RANGERS

DISNEY YOU TEASED US WITH THIS GIVE US THE DAMN GAME!!

37 notes - Posted May 20, 2022

#2

See the full post

46 notes - Posted April 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Call me cringe but I legit ship them:

This is coming from someone who ships a horse and a cow:

A rabbit and a cat (they have 420 babies for crying out loud):

See the full post

52 notes - Posted May 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[everythingismadeofchaos]

I get what you mean, but I have to partially disagree. I like it when people make fun of me because it makes me feel like I belong more. And usually when I'm making fun of other people it's in a friendly way. If I'm genuinely hostile to somebody, I'm not making fun of them; like I told a guy at work he was being a childish prick, and he insulted me in some way where I could tell that it was just his cultural insult exchange behavior thing ("oh yeah? Well yo mama etc etc") and I had to tell him I wasn't trying to insult him, I was just pointing out that he was being a childish prick, and it didn't matter whether I was involved or not. That's just what he was doing.

Generally the gauge I use is that if I was the person in the video and other people made fun of me, would I laugh? And if I would, then I think it's okay to make fun. It's normal. And sometimes we forget that autism is just a flavor of normal.

But I see what you're saying and I honestly think this is a good warning to keep in mind, it just requires a little more nuance and intentionality.

Can we please stop putting down autistic, ADHD, and other neurodivergent people whose traits are considered 'cringe', 'dorky', 'weird' or something else considered to be socially unacceptable?

We get enough shit from neurotypical people—we don't need to throw each other under the bus too.

"But they're making us look bad!"

I. Don't. Care. It's wrong to put each other on hierarchies. Simple.

[mentalisttraceur-incomplete]

I bet Tumblr would actually get a lot more money from users if it was actually proactively honest about its finances, instead of acting like nothing is wrong while trying to stop the bleeding with random Business(tm) ideas for making money.

Just make a post like once a month, aim for tone and style that leans into Tumblr culture, less Wikiledia donation nags and more

yo [playful insult that tested as least offensive with focus groups], look, here's the deal. this place costs too much to run, and we still can't figure out how to make money. plz help? (but no pressure! don't feel bad if you can't, take care of yourselves first) [link to a pay-as-much-as-you-want option for some widely appreciated benefits like no ads, like a slider where as you move it around it it shows how much you'll pay and how long the benefits will last - could

[bandofchimeras]

hey dude, sorry not trying to be an ass w this but I saw u had a post where in the tags you used delusional and narcissist as pretty derogatory insults towards the govt. Bashing the government is good and great but using terms that we (at least currently) need to describe mental illness (and definitely associate with it!)... in ways like that... its ableist and dehumanizing and leads to more abuse, even if it feels innocent, because if everyone who's a narc or who's delusional is dangerous....that's everyone w/ npd, or a schizospec disorder, or any other things.

Sorry this is long, and again, not trying to be rude! Just wanted to inform you and ask that you maybe be a little more careful with word choice in the future :)

hey anon, yeah thanks for your concern. I do understand the movement to change language usage around mental illness and destigmatize. And it is well intentioned.

Unfortunately, narcissistic and delusional are still pretty generally derogatory words. A person with NPD may not cause harm simply by virtue of having the diagnosis but we all agree narcissism itself isn't a fun cool trait to have. Delusions are obscurations of reality.

We still say manic, depressed, obsessive, etc in both outright negative ways and descriptive but not morally loaded ways. to me it's just part of language, and the ethics of most derogatory language does depend on who's using it.

I'm absolutely behind not calling everyone who sucks a narcissist. and would like people to stop saying "I'm being OCD" or "that's so bipolar," "he's a schizo" and so on. The "delulu" trend online is weird and fetishizes mentally ill people.

For context: I am a person with a narcissistic tendency, due to my childhood. My life has been a long train of psych symptoms... delusions of grandeur, maladaptive daydreaming, hallucinations, psychosis, derealization, depersonalization, dissociative identity states. psychology is one of my longest hyperfixations simply because I needed to understand my experience. it's been helpful and unhelpful in different ways. Pathologization is a phenomen that can't be understood separately from language, culture, history, and violence.

And yet I don't really have a problem with calling things crazy, insane, or batshit. in fact I find power in redefining and playing with these terms. I've been called crazy in a demeaning, invalidating way. And yeah, I'm a lil crizazy, a bit unhinged one might say. But if a motherfucker calls me crazy to invaldiate my argument, I instantly know they've lost. They're being weak, and abusive. It will also piss me the fuck off. I may want to show them what "crazy" looks like. The better angels of my nature will whisper "keep your head."

With the movement to neutralize mental health terms, what's always confused me is the understanding of language itself. I experience words autistically - they have multiple overlapping meanings all the time. Words are like composite images composed of billions of instances of use, fluttering and evolving as they are spoken and written. Vernacular is messy, sputtering and ever changing. Therefore words carry a multitude of connotations. When different people say them in different contexts you can see and hear different implications.

So, I really don't care if a dude at work says "that's fuckin insane bro" ...to a gnarly kickflip. Or a devastating news article. Insane delineates the magnitude of his emotion. It's out of bounds. Something normies and straights would try to contain, institutionalize, label. Christ, that's juicy. It's why I adore skater boy lingo and teen slang. It's careless and crunchy.

English itself, especially corporate and institutional English, can be a strict, bland, and often abusive language. My fellow autistic homies tend to enjoy a rousing jaunt down into the annals of historical parlance for our everyday linguistic transactions because it's fucking boring, the clinical way we are expected to speak here and now.

So therefore: thanks for your message calling attention to my words and their impact.

There are deeper better more poetic words to call the government and frankly I believe the best ones might be found in other languages.

All in all, you're right that "narcissistic" and "delusional" are not the most accurate, potent words to describe the US government. How to convey the twisted, detached from reality, spirit of that entity best in language, though, I need to expand the lexicon. Maybe using these words is cheap. Maybe it covers over the intentionality and corruption at play.

So I'm going to open this up to some language play - and ask you, anon, and anyone else what words can we find to convey the negative meaning of delusional (detached from truth) and narcissistic (inverted and self concerned to the point of dysfunction), in English? or in another language?

I hope you can take this in good faith not as a deflection but really engaging with your ask.

Being language corrected can trigger my harshest defenses. I can feel in my body all the times someone has punished, invalidated, dismissed something I've said because of using "uncivil" or foul or imperfect language. In general, trying to conform to correct ideological forms of language is like, major wretched, dude.

Hell my dorky ass disingenuous nerd of a brother yesterday called a message I sent the family group chat about Palestine "blasphemous" because I said " my god" and used it as an excuse to delete every impassioned exchange we had so the "children wouldn't see," - him be racist, cough. can't make this shit up.

But that's my background. Catholicism is a mental illness. (Sorry in advance to all mental illness havers for associating you with Catholics)

[getov]

JJK BOYS AS LATINOS AU

pairing: yuji. megumi. gojo. sukuna. geto. nanami.

warnings: nah part 2

puertorican!yuuji who dances to Yo Perreo Sola with you, twerking on you while shaking his head and being ass slapped by you pretending to throw money on him.

puertorican!yuuji who curses in spanish at his twin brother whenever he's bothering him or eats the snacks and leaves a small proportion for yuuji. He will literally call him things like "mamabicho", "canto e' cabron" making their mother insult them in spanish, claiming that she doesn't want any arguments.

puertorican!yuuji that likes to call you "mi amor" whenever you're mad at him, making you instantly melt and not being able to resist the way he softly and innocently talks to you, hoping you would forgive him.

"Mi amor, porfavor I didn't mean to leave your mascara open after using it. I was just playing around with your make up"

puertorican!sukuna who literally is the most puertorican out of his three siblings, he speaks spanish all the time and answers to his brothers in spanish, he talks in spanish around as if you could fully understand what is he talking about and when you tell him you didn't understand he would annoyingly repeat it in english then proceed to tell you to have culture and learn spanish.

puertorican!sukuna who likes to cat call you in spanish whenever you're walking around the house with those shorts that let him see the fat of your ass. That man will literally follow you around the house and call you things like "mano que culo", "cojone mujer".

puertorican!sukuna who likes to call you "mami" whenever you're jealous at some other girls who try to hard to get his attention. He would hug you from behind leaving kisses on your shoulder telling you not to worry about them you're his favorite.

"You don't have to worry about them mami, at the end, you're the one moaning my name."

colombian!gojo who literally is obsessed with merengón and eats it all the time, his grandma and mom have to cook sweets every three days cause his ass be feasting on sugar.

colombian!gojo who is super proud of his culture and makes the impossible to convince his father to visit Colombia for carnivals, he will take you every single time he goes so you pretty much know a lot about Colombian culture.

colombian!gojo that calls you mor 99% of the time he's around you or to convince you with his soft voice and cute names in spanish, begging you to bake him something sweet or cook for him or whenever you punish him and not give him pussy.

"Mor, please, you're being super mala right now. If you bake me something I will eat my veggies at dinner."

mexican!geto who is able to speak english and spanish with cero accent and likes when you look at him switching in and out of english and spanish, making you melt at the way he smiles to his grandpa.

mexican!geto who argues with gojo about how mexico is better than colombia and imitates gojo's spanish accent making the white haired one punch him in the shoulder and tell him that mexicans have high cholesterol thanks to the bunch of shit they eat.

mexican!geto who calls you hermosa whenever you wear something he brought you from mexico, or whenever he sees you're enjoying the tacos or the enchiladas. For him anything you do makes you look beautiful.

"You look so hermosa chugging on that fucking Jarritos." He said while you blushed trying not to laugh and threw him a napkin folded in a little ball making him chuckle.

cuban!megumi who is quiet but is able to speak spanish as perfect as geto do and doesn't have an accent, he's quiet but once he starts talking with his parents you can clearly hear the cuban in him.

cuban!megumi who wishes he had the chance to visit tourism places in Cuba but his parents refuse to take Megumi to Cuba. Still doesn't stop him from embracing his family's culture.

cuban!megumi who calls you chula when you wear those tight dresses whenever he takes you on dates in the city or likes to call you chula whenever you do something and he's proud of you.

"Good job, mi chula, you did good mi corazón I am so proud of you." he said while giving you a high-five followed by a kiss.

dominican!nanami who you never expected to be latino much less dominican, but you found out when gojo was irritating and nanami have had enough of him, cussing at him in spanish but very low and serious.

dominican!nanami who is always on the phone with his mother that still lives in DR and takes you to visit the country and to enjoy tourism around it. Loves to hear you try to speak or speaking spanish with his mother while cooking Mangú.

dominican!nanami who loves to hold you close to him while dancing bachata, running his hands on your body while you hide your face in the crook of his neck leaving kisses on it and caressing the back of his neck, enjoying the moment you two are having. He will call you things like princesa or mi reyna

"Mi princesa has been such a good girl for me, don't worry I'll give you want you want."

getov.© 2022

[ecrivainsolitaire]

I hate it when they give a character a name that the actors can't be bothered to pronounce correctly. Like season 1 of Daredevil where everyone is so concerned over Ms. Cárdenas and her case but they keep pronouncing her name as "kuhr-DEE-ness" which gets almost every sound in the name wrong. Her Spanish is also pretty bad, which feels especially insulting because her accent sounded native-like (although not the one she was supposed to have), meaning she probably knew better than the director and they made her stick to the script instead of using her input to correct it.

Semi related, it was pretty disappointing how the Spanish dub of Encanto wasn't done in Colombian accents. They throw a few cultural expressions here and there but they mostly keep it neutral, which is bs because the entire point of the movie is to celebrate Colombian heritage and let's be honest, everyone in Latin América has seen Yo Soy Betty, La Fea, everyone knows Shakira, we know what Colombians sound like and we can understand them but there's this myth in the dub industry that accents are always bad because someone might not get them so we should always try to write Spanish like no living person ever has.