#order of relative importances

[lord-squiggletits]

Honestly it annoys me that pride, ambition, and generally having a big ego are always villainous/evil-coded personality traits because personally I think if you genuinely are a prodigy at what you do you are 100% within your rights, perhaps even deserving, of flaunting your skills and being proud of the fact you can do something that only a small fraction of other people can do. Is it even ego at that point if you genuinely are as good at your field/skill as you say you are? Are people not aware that becoming a prodigy at something is something that takes lifelong sacrifice and practice sometimes to the point of giving up on having a normal life, relationships, etc even potentially destroying your own health???? God I fucking hate how pride in your own skills and ambition are so villain coded all the time. As if it's evil to want to be good at something and be recognized for what you rightfully earned

[rebellum]

Do you guys consider the spelling of the name to matter just as much as the sound?

Like are Kaylee, Kayley, and Kayleigh all the same name? Or 3 different names?

Wondering bc honestly my name is spelled in like 4 different standard ways AND there is an almost-same (one letter removed) same that also has 4 standard spellings, and I only consider it spelled in my name to be my name. Like if it were Emilie I'd be like 'Emily and Emmalee don't have the same name as me. Yes even if its pronounced exactly the same.'

[jensownzoo]

And we have signs of life.

Both of the Japanese sweet potatoes that I bought back in the fall with the purpose of using them to make slips have sprouts. The Hawaiian purple yams just rotted :-(

It's...a bit later than I was hoping for, but I had mostly given up so I'll still give it a try. If the tubers are too small at harvest, I'll just store them to try again since they won't have been sprayed with any anti-sprouting chemicals.

Doing the old water method of growing slips since it worked well for the regular orange sweet potato experiment (of which I still have a few potted vines that are going in the ground today actually).

Toothpicks jammed into four sides roughly halfway up, suspended in glass quart canning jars full of water, and placed in a sunny window. Water will be changed as needed.

[moonlitlex]

i'm very happy for you but this is not naan. naan isn't fried, it's baked in a tandoor (it's a clay oven shaped kind of like a huge pot). naan also uses yeast traditionally. it's not really easy to make, mostly because tandoors are huge and people don't just have them at home.

"homemade naan" is a different thing to regular naan (people who eat naan quite a bit can taste the difference immediately, they're really nothing alike) and generally still uses yeast as a rule (and usually the ones that don't still use a rising agent anyway like baking soda). the recipe op has written out i'm sure tastes great but it's for a two ingredient flatbread more generally, not one for naan.

this isn't "basically naan" with some flavouring missing. this is a different flatbread

hey, don’t cry. one half flour one half yogurt knead into dough and fry for easy flatbread and dip in balsamic vinegar, okay?

[tentakrool]

some facts about robert prevost (leo xiv) that i think are important to know:

while he was born in chicago, he has spent the vast majority of his life outside of america. he went to rome at a young age, then spent most of his priesthood in peru

pope leo xiii was well known for his interest in social justice -- the fact that prevost chose this name may show that he also nurses an interest

he was one of pope francis' closest advisors

he's described as being balanced in terms of his outlook, but has progressive views on some specific issues, including migrants and poverty

he is relatively young -- we will probably have pope leo xiv for a long time

quote from CBS article: "While Prevost is seen overall as a centrist, on some key social issues he's viewed as progressive. He has long embraced marginalized groups, a lot like Francis, who championed migrants and the poor."

another quote: "Cardinal George of Chicago, of happy memory, was one of my great mentors, and he said: 'Look, until America goes into political decline, there won't be an American pope.' And his point was, if America is kind of running the world politically, culturally, economically, they don't want America running the world religiously. So, I think there's some truth to that, that we're such a superpower and so dominant, they don't wanna give us, also, control over the church." -Robert Barron, bishop of a diocese in Minnesota

so while it does leave a bad taste in the mouth to have an american pope at this time, he is definitely not the kind of pope trump will like, nor will the conservative base. while he probably won't catapult the church into a lot of uncharted territory, he does look as if he will at the very least continue and support the work francis laid the groundwork for

additional information:

apparently he is involved in sexual assault coverups -- not fantastic, but to be honest the entire catholic church is so incredibly guilty of this it's not surprising

robert prevost has tweeted five times since joining twitter. one of those tweets was telling jd vance he does not understand love

updating information: "He didn't cover up those cases though. It seems like he opened the investigation in the case of the two women who were abused and encouraged them to go to the police, and then the investigation was closed by someone higher up than him afterwards. With the priest who abused kids, yes he let the abuser live at the priory—under supervision, which given that abusers have to live SOMEWHERE I'm glad that it was somewhere he was being observed. (In any case when the USCCB revised the rules two years later to be stricter, the abuser was moved somewhere else; Prevost was just following regulations as they existed at the time.) As for the accusations Sodalitum has made against him, Sodalitum themselves were dissolved last year for having a shitton of sexual abuse going on in their group, and since Prevost was part of shutting them down they hate his guts; any accusations they've made against him are extremely sus at best." this information seems reliable, but needs evidence attached to it. it is public knowledge that Sodalitum were dissolved (by Pope Francis).

even more information:

robert prevost was a high-ranking augustinian -- this order is notoriously pro-immigrant, pro-environment, and anti-materialism to the point of criticising capitalism

i already mentioned that the previous pope leo was something of a social activist. specifically, pope leo xiii specifically championed worker's rights

update: since taking the papal seat leo xiv (prevost) has specifically called out ai as a threat to the world and its workers, comparing leo xiii’s campaign for laborers to his own dedication to addressing this growing concern

[follow-up-news]

A three-judge panel at the US Court of International Trade, a relatively low-profile court in Manhattan, ruled Wednesday to stop Trump’s global tariffs that he imposed citing emergency economic powers, including his “Liberation Day” tariffs imposed on April 2. It also prevents Trump from enforcing his tariffs placed earlier this year against China, Mexico and Canada, designed to combat fentanyl coming into the United States. The court ruled in favor of a permanent injunction, grinding Trump’s global tariffs to a halt before “deals” with most other trading partners have even been reached. That means the bulk – but not all – of Trump’s tariffs are put in a standstill. The order halts Trump’s 30% tariffs on China, his 25% tariffs on some goods imported from Mexico and Canada, and the 10% universal tariffs on most goods coming into the United States. It does not, however, affect the 25% tariffs on autos, auto parts, steel or aluminum, which were subject to Section 232 of the Trade Expansion Act – a different law than the one Trump cited for his broader trade actions. Stock futures surged on the ruling. Dow futures rose nearly 500 points, or 1.1%. The broader S&P 500 futures were up 1.4%, and Nasdaq futures were 1.6% higher in afterhours trading.

[applecaviar]

How do the LADS men react when they catch you reading smut. 🫣 Part 4

I present to you brat tamer Zayne, enjoy!!

TW: Smut

Part 1 (Xavier)

Part 2 (Caleb)

Part 3 (Sylus)

Part 5 (Rafayel)

You step into the cozy restaurant, the warmth of the interior a stark contrast to the biting winter chill outside. The aroma of freshly baked bread wafts through the air, making your mouth water. You spot Zayne already seated at your usual table by the window, he looks up as you approach, hazel green eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

"Sorry I'm late," you apologize, sliding into the seat across from him.

"It's fine, I already ordered the usual is that ok?"

You nod, smiling warmly at Zayne as you take off your coat and drape it over the back of the chair. "That's perfect, thank you."

"How's work? I'm glad we could squeeze in this lunch date today, I've really missed seeing your face these past couple of days, Zayne." You offer him a playful smile, your cheeks flushing slightly as your eyes meet his intense gaze.

You listen intently as Zayne speaks, noticing the slight furrow in his brow and the weariness in his voice. "Busy" doesn't even begin to cover it, you think to yourself. He's been running himself ragged at the hospital, pouring every ounce of his brilliant mind and skilled hands into saving lives. It's what he does, what he lives for - but it also means long hours, missed meals, and precious little sleep.

As the waiter arrives with your shared meal, you dive in enthusiastically, savoring each bite. About halfway through, Zayne's phone begins to buzz on the tabletop. He glances down at the screen, his brow furrowing with apology as he meets your gaze.

"I'm so sorry love, but I need to take this call. It's one of the surgeons from the cardiac ward." He stands up, already moving towards the entrance of the restaurant. "I'll just be a moment." Over his shoulder he tosses a reassuring smile your way before stepping outside, the door swinging shut behind him.

You quickly finish the rest of your meal, knowing that your stolen moment with Zayne is fast slipping away. As you set down your utensils with a soft clink, the restaurant door swings open, ushering in a gust of cold air and Zayne's tall frame.

He strides over to you, his expression a mix of apology and urgency. "I'm so sorry about that. A patient's condition took a turn and I need to get back to the hospital immediately." He reaches for his coat, already shrugging it on as he speaks. "I'll give you a ride back to the Deepspace HQ, if that works for you. I know it's not ideal, but..." He trails off, hazel eyes filled with regret as they meet yours.

You feel a flicker of annoyance spark through you at the interruption, your voice reflecting a hint of that irritation as you respond. "Fine, Zayne. A ride back is fine." You start gathering your belongings and you slip your arms back into your coat with a sigh.

"I understand your work is important, but..." You pause, meeting his gaze with a pointed look. "I thought we could have a bit more time together today. Just the two of us." The words come out with a slight edge, betraying your disappointment at the cut-short lunch date. Still, you know better than anyone the gravity of his responsibilities at the hospital.

Swallowing your frustration, you offer him a small smile. "But of course, your patients need you. Let's get going." With that, you stand up, ready to follow him out to the car.

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As Zayne starts the car, the engine purring to life beneath you, you settle into the passenger seat and fasten your seatbelt with a soft click, the interior is warm and cozy. You turn to face him, ready to strike up a conversation, eager to catch up on the lost time. But before you can utter a word, his phone begins to ring once more, the shrill tone piercing the relative quiet of the car.

You let out a sigh, feeling your shoulders slump slightly as you lean back against the leather seat. Zayne glances over at you apologetically, one hand gripping the steering wheel.

It's been too long since you've had Zayne to yourself, too many nights spent aching for his touch, for the feeling of his skin against yours. The phone rings again, a second time, the sound grating on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. You know his work is vital, lives literally depend on his brilliance and skill, but damn it, don't you deserve some of his time too? Don't you need him just as desperately?

As Zayne answers his phone, you hear the concern in his voice, the urgency in his tone. You know instantly that this call is going to take longer than the short ride back to HQ, and that your chance to catch up, to steal a few intimate moments, is slipping away once more. With a sigh, you reach into your bag and pull out your headphones, you take your phone from your pocket, tapping the audiobook app open with your thumb. You click on a novel you bought recently, a romance story that had drawn you in from the very first chapter, a tale of love and passion that you had been eager to lose yourself in. You tap the play button, the soothing voice of the narrator filling your ears as you settle back into the leather seat, letting the story unfold around you.

Suddenly, you remember the part where you left off, the male and female leads, both strong willed and passionate, had been locked in a heated argument. Their voices, filled with frustration and unspoken emotions.

You listen intently, feeling the intensity of their disagreement, the way their words cut through the air like a knife. But as quickly as it began, the tone shifts. The anger in their voices softens, replaced by a charged silence that hangs heavy with unspoken desires. You hold your breath, feeling the tension building between them.

Suddenly, in a moment that catches you off guard, their fight turns into something else entirely. The passion behind their words transforms, morphing into a raw hunger that you can feel through the speakers. Their argument turns into a battle of a different sort, a war of touch, taste and need.

You sit up straighter in your seat, your heart starting to race as the scene unfolds in your headphones. The male lead's dominant actions send a shiver down your spine, his forceful yet tender touches painting a vivid picture in your mind. You feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you listen to the female protagonist's breathy gasps and needy whimpers, her body responding to his skilled ministrations.

A sudden ache throbs between your thighs, a longing that you didn't even realize you had been suppressing. The way he takes control, commanding her body and mind, ignites something deep within you. His dominance, his raw masculinity, the way he makes her his... it's everything you've been craving without even realizing it. Your fingers clutch at the hem of your shirt, your knuckles turning white as you grip the fabric tightly. The car feels hotter now, the air thick with a tension that mirrors the scene playing out in your imagination.

You feel Zayne's fingers tap gently on your arm, the sensation jolting you out of the heated scene unfolding in your mind. Startled, you jump slightly, your heart pounding in your chest as you turn to face him. With a slightly trembling hand, you remove one of your headphones, allowing his voice to filter through the lingering echoes of the audiobook.

"We've arrived" Zayne says, his deep voice cutting through the haze of your lustful thoughts. You blink up at him, realizing that in your distraction, you hadn't even noticed the car coming to a stop outside the towering building that houses your workplace.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize we were already here," you murmur, feeling a blush spread across your cheeks.

"Thank you for the ride," you say reaching for the door handle. As you step out of the car, the chilly winter air hits your flushed skin and you pull your coat tighter around you.

Before you close the passenger door you hear him call your name again. "Y/N, wait," he calls out, his deep voice reaching your ears as he mutes his phone call "Don't forget, you have an appointment scheduled with me today for your monthly check-up."

You nod, a soft smile playing at the corners of your lips. "I know, I haven't forgotten. I'll be there, Dr. Zayne," you roll your eyes at him as you close the door. The way his title slips from your tongue feels strangely intimate.

You slip your headphone back into your ear, eager to catch the last few minutes of the heated scene unfolding in your audiobook. The narrator's deep, soothing voice fills your ear once more as you turn to walk towards the headquarters building. You have about twenty minutes left of your lunch break, and you're determined to make the most of that time

As you walk, you reach into your coat pocket to retrieve your phone, intending to rewind the last few minutes of the audiobook that you had missed. However, as your fingers search the depths of your coat, a sense of unease begins to creep in. Your phone, usually nestled securely in your pocket, is nowhere to be found. You pause on the sidewalk, patting at your other pockets, a growing sense of panic rising in your chest.

Suddenly, the narrator's voice falls silent in your ears, the audiobook coming to an abrupt end as your headphone loses its connection to your misplaced device. The realization hits you like a punch to the gut, in your distracted state, in the haze of lust and longing that the audiobook had induced, you must have left your phone behind in Zayne's car.

"Fuck"

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Later that day, you find yourself sitting in the modern waiting room outside Zayne's office, your knee bouncing nervously as you await your monthly check-up. The white walls and the faint scent of disinfectant do little to calm the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You can't shake the feeling of embarrassment that has been lingering since you realized your phone, and with it, your audiobook, were left behind in Zayne's car.

As you sit there, your mind wanders back to the heated scene you'd been listening to, the male lead's dominant actions and the female protagonist's responses echoing in your thoughts. You had been so engrossed, so lost in the intimate moment, that you can't help but cringe at the idea of Zayne potentially overhearing even a snippet of it. The thought of him knowing what you had been craving, the desires that had been stirring within you, makes your cheeks flush a deep shade of red.

You try to push the thoughts away, taking a deep breath to compose yourself as you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. The door to Zayne's office swings open, revealing his tall, broad shouldered frame. He's changed out of the dress shirt and tie he had on earlier, now wearing a crisp white lab coat that accentuates his professional demeanor. His hazel eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you swear you see a flicker of something in their depths but it's gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the cool, collected gaze of your doctor.

You rise from the chair, your legs feeling a bit unsteady as you walk towards Zayne's office. As you brush past him, you feel the heat of his body, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air between you. It's enough to make your heart race and your cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red.

The room feels both intimidating and comforting, a testament to his brilliance and dedication to his craft. You perch yourself on the edge of the exam table, smoothing your skirt over your thighs as you try to calm the nervous energy coursing through you.

Zayne closes the door behind him, the click of the latch sounds like a gunshot in the otherwise silent room. You watch as he approaches, his movements efficient and focused as always. A glimmer of hope sparks within you at the realization that perhaps he hadn't overheard the explicit scene from your audiobook after all. Some phones are known to stop playing media once disconnected from headphones, aren't they? Maybe, just maybe, yours was one of those right?

"Alright, let's begin love, we only have 15 minutes" Zayne says, his voice low and smooth as he reaches for his stethoscope. He listens intently to your heartbeat The cool metal of the stethoscope sends a shiver through you, making you all too aware of the intimate proximity of his body to yours.

Zayne's brow furrows as he listens to your heartbeat, his eyes flicking up to meet yours with a questioning gaze. He removes the stethoscope from your chest, letting it rest around his neck as he reaches for your wrist, his long fingers finding your pulse point with practiced ease.

"Your heart rate is elevated," he notes. His thumb brushes over your skin, the sensation sending a small jlt of electricity through you. "Did you run here?

You shake your head as he places the stethoscope against your chest once more, urging you to take a deep breath. As you inhale, your lungs expand, your ribcage rising gently. But as you exhale, you feel your breath catch, the air leaving your lungs in a shaky, uneven stream.

Zayne's brow furrows again, a flicker of concern crossing his face. He listens intently to your breathing, his head tilted slightly as he focuses on the sound. After a long moment, he straightens up, allowing the stethoscope to rest around his neck once more.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice filled with a gentler concern. "Your breathing is a bit erratic. And your cheeks are flushed..." He trails off, his gaze drifting over your face, taking in the deep red hue that still paints your skin.

Before you can answer you feel Zayne's body heat radiating against you as he leans in closer, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangle in your hair. Your heart races, your breath catching in your throat as you think, for a moment, that he might close the distance between you and press his lips to yours.

"Were you in the emergency room two days ago?"

His words reach your ears, and the spell is broken. Your eyes widen in surprise as you realize that he's not about to kiss you at all. Instead, he's demanding an explanation for something far more serious.

"W-what?" you stammer out, your voice coming out sounding more breathless than intended. "I don't know what you're talking about, Zayne."

Zayne's eyes narrow, his grip on the back of your head tightening slightly. "Don't play dumb with me, Y/N" his voice low and dangerous. "I just got off the phone with Dr. Greyson. He told me that you were in the emergency room two days ago after a run in with a pair of wanderers. Is that true?"

You roll your eyes, trying to brush off Zayne's concern with a dismissive gesture. "It was nothing serious, Zayne," you insist, your voice taking on a slightly defensive tone. "I just... I passed out, that's all. It happens sometimes after a tough hunt."

You can see the frustration flashing in his eyes, his jaw clenching slightly as he takes in your words. He's not convinced, and you can tell that your attitude has only served to anger him further.

"Nothing serious?" he repeats, his voice rising slightly. "You could have been killed. Those creatures are dangerous, and you know the risks better than anyone."

You swallow hard, feeling a flicker of guilt for not telling him sooner. But you also feel a spark of defiance, a stubbornness that rears its head in the face of his disapproval.

"I had it under control," you argue, your chin jutting out slightly as you meet his intense gaze. "I've been training for this, Zayne. I know what I'm doing." Even as you say the words, you can't help but think of the way your heart had raced, the way your vision had started to tunnel before everything went black. Had you really had it under control? Or had you been in over your head, just as Zayne seemed to think?

You blink, wondering if you imagined the hint of a smirk on his lips. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a stern, disapproving frown. You can't be sure if it was a reaction to your defiant words or if it was a fleeting moment of amusement at your stubbornness.

With a sigh, Zayne releases his grip on the back of your head and steps away. He moves to sit behind his desk, the sleek chair creaking softly as it accepts his weight.

"Come sit down, Y/N," he says, his voice still tinged with that underlying frustration.

You feel a flicker of unease as you make your way over to the chair. Settling into the seat in front of him, you smooth your skirt over your thighs, suddenly feeling self conscious under Zayne's scrutiny.

"I said, come sit down but I never said where, did I?"

"Oh," you breathe out, suddenly feeling flustered. Your gaze darts down to his thighs, where his fingers tap impatiently against the fabric of his dress pants. The gesture is both commanding and intimate.

You stand up from the chair, your heart pounding in your chest as you take a tentative step towards him. But before you can sit down on his lap, as he so blatantly implied, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a familiar object. Your eyes widen in surprise and a flicker of panic as you recognize it as your phone.

"Were you looking for this?" Zayne asks, a hint of amusement in his voice. A wave of embarrassment crashes over you, your cheeks burning hotter than before. You can only imagine the thoughts running through Zayne's mind, the conclusions he must be drawing about your... tastes. The realization that he now knows about your secret desire for dominant men hits you like a punch to the gut.

Zayne, I..." you begin, your voice trailing off as you try to formulate a coherent response. But what can you say? How can you possibly explain the fact that you've been craving the very thing he's always held himself back from giving you? 

"Your taste in literature is quite interesting love" The way he says "love" sends a shiver down your spine, the single syllable dripping with a raw intensity that makes your knees feel weak.

Zayne leans back in his chair, the leather creaking softly beneath his shifting weight. A smirk plays at the corners of his mouth, he's enjoying this, enjoying the way your embarrassment and flustered state have given him the upper hand.

Zayne glances at his watch, his brow furrowing slightly as he takes in the time. "Will you look at that," he murmurs "We only have five minutes left, so I suppose there won't be a chance for you to sit... anymore." His gaze rakes over your body, his eyes lingering on your curves in a way that makes your heart race.

You reach out for your phone, your fingers brushing against Zayne's as you attempt to take it from his hand. But at the last moment, you hesitate, pulling your hand back as if burned. The sudden movement causes the phone to slip from Zayne's grasp, tumbling down to land softly on the plush carpet at your feet.

Without a word, you sink down to your knees, the soft fibers of the carpet cushioning your legs. You lean forward, your hair falling over your shoulder as you reach for your phone. As your hand closes around the device, you pause, your gaze drifting up to meet Zayne's.

He's watching you intently, his eyes dark and unreadable. You can't help but smirk up at him, your lips curving into a playful grin, phone clutched in your hand.

His eyes widen in surprise as your hand suddenly drops the phone again and reaches for his belt. Before he can react or push your hands away, the ring of his office phone pierces the air, startling you both.

Seizing the brief distraction, you waste no time in your actions. Your fingers unbuckle his belt, the leather strap slipping free with a soft clink. Zayne's breath hitches, his body stiffening slightly as your hands move lower, grasping his zipper. With a slow tug, you lower his zipper, the metal teeth parting company with a soft hiss.

Zayne's eyes, which had been flicking towards the ringing phone, snap back to you as he realizes your intentions. His gaze is intense, blazing with a mix of shock, desire, and restrained hunger. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but the words die on his lips as you reach inside his boxers and wrap your hand around his hardening length.

His cock is hot and heavy in your palm, already stiffening and swelling from your touch. You can feel the weight of it, the thick vein running along the underside, the velvety soft skin that sheathes the rock hard flesh beneath. A thrill of power surges through you as you realize the effect you have on him, the way his body responds to your touch despite his attempts to maintain control.

Zayne's jaw clenches, his eyes never leaving yours as he struggles to regain his composure. The phone continues to ring, its shrill cry growing more insistent, demanding his attention. But in this moment, his gaze is solely focused on you, his body trembling slightly as you stroke his now fully erect cock.

You freeze as a knock sounds on the door, the sharp rap of knuckles against wood jolting you like a shock of electricity. Acting on pure instinct, you quickly duck down, hiding yourself beneath Zayne's desk just as the door begins to open. The plush carpet brushes against your skin as you crouch there, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

You barely have a moment to catch your breath before Zayne is pushing his chair forward, the wheels rolling smoothly across the carpet. The sudden movement catches you off guard, and before you can react, his chair is pressed flush against the desk, leaving you with no room, to hide his now fully exposed and throbbing erection.

You can hear the creak of the door hinges as it swings open, the sound of footsteps entering the room. Zayne clears his throat, his voice slightly hoarse as he greets his visitor.

"Yes, Yvonne, what is it?"

You can hear the faint rustle of fabric as Yvonne moves closer to the desk. "Dr. Zayne, I'm sorry to disturb you, but I wanted to let you know that your next patient, Mrs. Hartley, called to cancel her appointment for this afternoon. And I've just checked the schedule, you don't have any more appointments booked for today."

As Yvonne speaks, you find yourself face to face with Zayne's throbbing erection, the swollen head mere inches from your lips. The musky, masculine scent of his arousal fills your nostrils, making your head spin with desire. Unable to resist the temptation, you lean forward slightly, your parted lips brushing against the sensitive flesh.

Zayne inhales sharply through his teeth, his body tensing above you as your mouth envelops the head of his cock. His hand grips the armrest of his chair, knuckles turning white as he fights to maintain his composure.

"Is that all, Yvonne?" Zayne asks, his voice strained as he tries to keep it level. The effort it takes for him to maintain his professional demeanor is clear in the tightness of his jaw, the slight waver in his tone.

You can only imagine the show of willpower it must take for him to keep himself from reacting, from giving away the secret that you're hidden beneath his desk, your lips wrapped around his cock. The risk of getting caught only adds to the thrill, the forbidden nature of your actions sending a fresh surge of heat rushing through your veins.

"Well I have your schedule for tomorrow, do you want to go over it or should I just email it to you?"

"Just... just email it to me" he manages to grit out, his voice tighter than before. The sensation of your tongue dragging along the sensitive underside of his cock is making it increasingly difficult for him to think straight, let alone carry on a coherent conversation.

Yvonne hesitates for a moment. "Alright, I'll send it over shortly then. Is there anything else you need before I go, Dr. Zayne?"

As Zayne opens his mouth to respond, you take the opportunity to wrap your lips around his cock and take him deeper into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the thick head. A shudder runs through Zayne's body, his fingers tightening their grip on the armrest as he bites back a groan that threatens to spill from his lips.

"N-no, that's all for now," Zayne manages to say, his words coming out slightly clipped and strained. "I'll... I'll look it over when I get your email."

You feel Zayne's hand move to your hair, his fingers gripping the strands tightly the slight pain of his grip only adding to the pleasure of having him in your mouth.

Yvonne's footsteps pause, and you hear her ask, "Did Y/N leave already? I didn't see her leave earlier."

For a moment, there's a beat of heavy silence, the only sound being the pounding of your own heart in your ears. Then, Zayne's voice cuts through the air, strained and tight.

"She's... she's currently in the bathroom," he manages to say, his words coming out in a slightly husky murmur. The lie rolls off his tongue, but you can feel the effort it takes for him to maintain control.

Yvonne hesitates for a moment, and you can almost picture her brow furrowing in slight confusion. "Oh, I see," she says, not sounding entirely convinced. "Well, I'll just... I'll be heading out then. Have a good rest of your evening, Dr. Zayne."

As Yvonne turns to leave, you hear her call out, her voice louder than necessary, " Tell her I said goodbye, would you? I'll see you tomorrow."

The moment Yvonne is gone, Zayne's grip on your hair tightens, his hips rocking forward slightly as he pushes himself deeper into your mouth. His deep, powerful thrusts send waves of pleasure radiating through his body, but also push you to your limits. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you struggle to accommodate his thick length, your throat constricting around him.

A particularly forceful thrust causes you to gag, a spurt of saliva escapes the seal of your lips, dripping down the side. The sound of your choking and the feeling of your convulsing throat around him almost send Zayne over the edge.

With a sharp intake of breath, he pulls you off his throbbing cock. You gasp for air as your mouth is freed, tears streaming down your face and your chest heaving with ragged breaths.

Without a word, he uses his grip on your hair to gently pull you up and onto his desk, the smooth wood cool against your skin. You sit there for a moment, catching your breath and wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand.

Before you can regain your bearings, Zayne leans down and grabs your ankles, his strong fingers curling around the delicate bones. With a swift movement, he places your feet on the edge of his desk, the heels of your boots digging into the polished wood. The action causes your legs to spread, your skirt riding up to reveal your panties.

Zayne leans in, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. "Tell me, love," he whispers, "Do you think Yvonne is stupid? Huh? Why do you have to be such a fucking brat?" The word 'brat' comes out as a growl, a sound that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. At the same time, his hand finds its way back to the hair at the nape of your neck, gripping the strands tightly and using them to angle your head, forcing you to meet his intense gaze.

Before you can formulate and answer, Zayne sits back down in his chair, releasing your hair only to use both of his strong hands to push your legs even wider apart. The movement is forceful, almost rough, the desk creaking slightly beneath the sudden shift.

Not wanting to waste any more time , he hooks his fingers into the delicate fabric of your panties and tugs them roughly to the side. The cool air of the office kisses your newly exposed flesh, making you shiver. But you barely have a moment to register the sensation before his mouth is on you, his tongue delving between your folds with a hunger that takes your breath away.

"Ah!" you gasp, your back arching at the sudden, intense pleasure. He doesn't hesitate, he licks and sucks at your most sensitive places with a single minded focus, his tongue circling your clit and dipping inside your cunt.

His knowledge of your body is intimate and extensive, allowing him to play you like an instrument. His tongue dances over your most sensitive spots with practiced ease, the slick muscle circling and flickering against your clit. He can feel your body tensing, your walls fluttering around his invading tongue as he drives you towards ecstasy.

And just as your climax begins to crash over you, your vision blurring at the edges and your toes curling in your boots, Zayne suddenly pulls away. Your hips buck up off the desk, seeking more of that delicious friction, but Zayne holds your thighs firmly in place, denying you the release your body cries out for.

"No," you whimper, frustration and desperation coloring your voice. "Please, Zayne, I... I need..." But the words die on your lips when you feel his palm crack against your sensitive flesh. You gasp, your hips jerking up off the desk at the sudden contact, your eyes flying wide open in surprise.

Didn't you hear what Yvonne said?" His grip on your thighs tightens, his fingers digging into your soft skin with a possessive force. "We have all night, love. And brats like you don't get to cum fast... and certainly not when they want to."

With a deliberate, almost teasing slowness, he unzips your boots and slips them off your feet, letting them drop to the floor with a soft thud.

"Lift your hips for me, Y/N," Zayne commands. "I need to remove your skirt and panties. Now." His gaze is intense, his eyes burning into yours with an unspoken demand for obedience.

You quickly obey, lifting your hips off the desk as instructed. Zayne makes short work of your skirt and soaked panties, roughly tugging them down your legs and off, leaving you bare and exposed.

As you start to reach for the hem of your shirt, intending to remove it as well, Zayne's hand shoots out and grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. His grip is firm, his fingers wrapping around your wrist like a manacle.

"Ah ah ah, not so fast," his voice a warning growl. "If you don't listen, I'm going to have no choice but to tie those hands of yours. And trust me, you won't like the consequences of testing my patience any further."

Without warning, he leans in and starts trailing hot, open mouthed kisses along your sensitive inner thigh, his teeth grazing the delicate flesh. You feel the sharp sting of his bite, followed by the soothing caress of his tongue, leaving a trail of marks in his wake.

He works his way up, alternating between sucking and biting, until he reaches the apex of your thighs. Just as you think he might finally give you what you want, he pauses, his breath hot against your core.

Then, with deliberate teasing, he spreads your pussy lips using his thumb and middle finger to expose your throbbing clit and extends the tip of his tongue to graze it, the faintest whisper of a touch.

Your hips jerk, a strangled moan escaping your lips at the teasing caress. But before you can gain any real pleasure from it, he pulls back, leaving you wanting and desperate once more. He chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating through his chest as he takes in your needy expression.

He continues his maddening tease, the tip of his tongue flicking against your clit in feather light strokes. He can feel your body tensing, your thighs trembling on either side of his head as he pushes you to the brink time and time again. Each time you feel your climax building, your walls starting to flutter and clench around his tongue, he pulls back, denying you the final push you need to tumble over the edge.

As much as you try to keep your impending orgasm a secret, Zayne knows your body intimately. He can feel the subtle changes, the way your muscles tighten and your breathing hitches. And so, just as each climax is about to crash over you, Zayne pulls away once more, leaving you on the edge.

"No!" you cry out, frustration and desperation coloring your voice. "Please, I... I can't..." But your pleas fall on deaf ears as Zayne refuses to relent.

Finally his hands reach for the hem of your shirt. With rough tug, he pulls it up and off, tossing it carelessly to the side. Your bra quickly follows, the clasp unhooking easily under his fingers. The lacy garment falls away, baring your breasts to his hungry eyes.

He takes a moment to admire the sight of you, laid out naked and wanting before him. His eyes darken with lust as they roam over your curves, taking in every dip and swell. Leaning down, he places open mouthed kisses along the soft underside of your breast, his tongue swirling around the sensitive flesh until he reaches the hardened peak of your nipple.

"Zayne, please," you whimper, arching your back to press your breast more fully against his lips. Your plea is cut off by a sharp gasp as his teeth close around the sensitive bud, his tongue flicking against it teasingly. Your fingers tangle in his hair, gripping the short strands tightly.

He pauses, his breath hot against your breast as he looks up at you with a stern, expectant gaze. "Next time you find yourself in the hospital, are you going to let me know right away? are you going to be a good girl and call me first thing, before anyone else?"

His tongue flattens against your nipple, the slick muscle dragging over the sensitive peak as he laves attention on the hardened nub. At the same time, he thrusts two long, strong fingers deep inside you, your walls instantly clenching around them.

He pumps his fingers slowly, his thumb circling your clit in teasing strokes as he suckles at your breast.

"I'll be good," you gasp out "I promise, I'll call you first thing if anything happens." You can feel your climax building, your walls fluttering wildly around his fingers. Tears of frustration and overwhelming pleasure sting at the corners of your eyes.

"Please, Zayne," you whimper, your voice breaking on his name. "Please let me cum this time. I'll be so good, I swear it. I just... I need it so badly. Please, I'm begging you..."

"Not good enough," Zayne whispers as he pulls his fingers out of your cunt, leaving you empty and aching. Tears stream down your face as he denies you the release you so desperately crave.

"Zayne, please," you sob, your voice choked with emotion. "I need... I can't... Please don't do this. I'll do anything, just please let me cum. I'm begging you." Your hips buck up off the desk, seeking any friction, any pressure to alleviate the throbbing ache between your thighs.

In a blink, Zayne flips you over onto your stomach, your bare breasts pressing against the cool surface of his desk. Before you can catch your breath or process the sudden change in position, he's gripping your hips and pulling them back, forcing your ass up to meet the heavy weight of his erection.

You feel the thick, hard length of him sliding between your cheeks, the tip smearing trails of precum all the way down to your dripping entrance. Your hips twitch and buck reflexively, your body craving the feel of him inside you, filling you up in the way only he can.

You reach back to grab Zayne's hip, your fingers digging into his flesh as you try to pull him closer, desperate to feel him inside you. But before you can, he grabs both of your wrists, pinning your arms above your head and holding them down against the desk.

"If you keep being a bad girl, Y/N, how am I supposed to fuck you properly? Hmm?"

He punctuates his words with a sharp smack to your ass, the stinging pain blossoming into a warm, tingling pleasure that makes you clench around nothing. The head of his cock catches on your entrance, teasing you with the promise of what's to come.

Zayne releases your wrists only to grab them again, this time bringing them behind your back. Before you can react, you feel the cold metal of his stethoscope as he wraps the tubing around your wrists to bind your hands together, leaving you helpless and at his mercy.

"There, that should keep you from being too troublesome" His hands smooth over the curve of your ass, gripping the flesh hard enough to leave fingerprint shaped bruises in their wake.

"Now, let's see if we can find a way to make you behave," Zayne growls, his hips surging forward to bury himself to the hilt inside your tight, wet heat in one powerful thrust.

You scream in a mix of surprise and overwhelming pleasure as Zayne sheaths himself fully inside you with one hard, deep thrust. Your back arches, your tied hands fisting behind your back as you try to adjust to the sudden, intense intrusion.

Zayne lets out a groan, his voice echoing off the office walls as he hilts himself deep inside your clenching, grasping heat. "Fuck," he grunts, his hips pressing flush against your ass as he savors the feeling of your walls gripping his cock. "You feel fucking incredible."

He doesn't give you a moment to adjust to the feeling of his thick cock buried deep inside you. Instead, he grips the tubing binding your wrists and starts to move, using it as a handle to pull you back to meet his powerful thrusts. His hips smack against your ass, the stinging pain blending deliciously with the intense pleasure radiating out from where you're joined. The movement and force of Zayne's thrusts causes the items on his desk to clutter loudly, some falling to the floor with a crash, papers scatter and pens roll off the edge.

Don't worry, love," Zayne grits out through clenched teeth, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his release. "This time, I'm not going to stop, but if...fuuuuck...if you keep clenching around me like that, I won't last long"

"Zayne, I'm gonna... I'm about to..." you stutter out, your words dissolving into a high pitched keen of pleasure as you feel your climax fast approaching. Just as you're on the brink, ready to tumble over into pure ecstasy, Zayne does the unexpected.

While one hand stays gripping your bound wrists, the other snakes around to your aching, swollen clit. But instead of the gentle rubbing or flicking you crave, Zayne pinches the sensitive nub hard between his thumb and index finger, sending a shockwave of intense sensation coursing through your body.

Zayne whispers harshly in your ear, "If you ever roll your eyes at me again like you did today, twice, your punishment will be far, far worse than a few spanks. The only time your pretty eyes should be rolling is when I'm fucking you just thrust like thrust this thurst, until you can't see straight."

To emphasize his point, he gives you a particularly brutal thrust, grinding his pelvis against your ass and forcing you to take every last inch of his cock. "Is that clear, Y/N?"

He lets go of your clit, the sudden rush of blood back to the sensitive nub sending jolts of intensified pleasure shooting through you. As your body trembles he angles his hips just right, and on his next thrust he lightly runs a finger along the side of your now swollen clit.

Your scream of ecstasy echoes off the office walls as you come, your vision going white with the force of your orgasm. "Yes, Zayne!" you cry out, your voice breaking on his name as your walls spasm and clench wildly around his cock.

As your body convulses and shakes through the most intense orgasm of your life, you hear Zayne let out a string of curses. "Fuck! Shit, Damnit! I can't...I'm cumming!"

His grip on your hips tightens to a bruising level as he slams into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt inside your still fluttering walls. His cock pulses and throbs as he starts to unload, flooding your insides with his hot, thick seed.

You can feel each twitch and spurt of his release, his body shudders above you, his breath coming in harsh, ragged pants as he rides out the waves of his own climax.

"Good girl," he whispers "you took my cock so well" He gently removes the stethoscope from your wrists, rubbing the reddened skin to ease the discomfort as he helps you up, his strong arms supporting your trembling body.

"Come on," he says softly, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. "Let's go clean you up and then we can head home. We have to stop by the store to get a new stethoscope, and then we have to figure out a way for me to hide my embarrassment every time I have to talk to Yvonne"

You can't help but laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all, your cheeks flushed and eyes bright with lingering pleasure.

He smirks at the memory, chuckling lowly as he helps you gather your scattered clothes.

Note: I don't know if a stethoscope is strong enough to handle that but you get the idea 😉

Rafayel is next!!!

[haru-dipthong]

Gendered pronouns in Japanese vs English

In Revolutionary Girl Utena, the main character Utena is a girl (it says so in the title), but very conspicuously uses the masculine first person pronoun 僕 (boku) and dresses in (a variation of) the boys school uniform. Utena's gender, and gender in general, is a core theme of the work. And yet, I haven’t seen a single translation or analysis post where anyone considers using anything other than she/her for Utena when speaking of her in English. This made me wonder: how does one’s choice of pronouns in Japanese correspond to what one’s preferred pronouns would be in English?

There are 3 main differences between gendered pronouns in Japanese vs English

Japanese pronouns are used to refer to yourself (first-person), while English pronouns are used to refer to others (third-person)

The Japanese pronoun you use will differ based on context

Japanese pronouns signify more than just gender

Let’s look at each of these differences in turn and how these differences might lead to a seeming incongruity between one’s Japanese pronoun choice and one’s English pronoun choice (such as the 僕 (boku) vs she/her discrepancy with Utena).

Part 1: First-person vs third-person

While Japanese does technically have gendered third person pronouns （彼、彼女） they are used infrequently¹ and have much less cultural importance placed on them than English third person pronouns. Therefore, I would argue that the cultural equivalent of the gender-signifying third-person pronoun in English is the Japanese first-person pronoun. Much like English “pronouns in bio”, Japanese first-person pronoun choice is considered an expression of identity.

Japanese pronouns are used exclusively to refer to yourself, and therefore a speaker can change the pronoun they’re using for themself on a whim, sometimes mid-conversation, without it being much of an incident. Meanwhile in English, Marquis Bey argues that “Pronouns are like tiny vessels of verification that others are picking up what you are putting down” (2021). By having others use them and externally verify the internal truth of one’s gender, English pronouns, I believe, are seen as more truthful, less frivolous, than Japanese pronouns. They are seen as signifying an objective truth of the referent’s gender; if not objective then at least socially agreed-upon, while Japanese pronouns only signify how the subject feels at this particular moment — purely subjective.

Part 2: Context dependent pronoun use

Japanese speakers often don’t use just one pronoun. As you can see in the below chart, a young man using 俺 (ore) among friends might use 私 (watashi) or 自分 (jibun) when speaking to a teacher. This complicates the idea that these pronouns are gendered, because their gendering depends heavily on context. A man using 私 (watashi) to a teacher is gender-conforming, a man using 私 (watashi) while drinking with friends is gender-non-conforming. Again, this reinforces the relative instability of Japanese pronoun choice, and distances it from gender.

Part 3: Signifying more than gender

English pronouns signify little besides the gender of the antecedent. Because of this, pronouns in English have come to be a shorthand for expressing one’s own gender experience - they reflect an internal gendered truth. However, Japanese pronoun choice doesn’t reflect an “internal truth” of gender. It can signify multiple aspects of your self - gender, sexuality, personality.

For example, 僕 (boku) is used by gay men to communicate that they are bottoms, contrasted with the use of 俺 (ore) by tops. 僕 (boku) may also be used by softer, academic men and boys (in casual contexts - note that many men use 僕 (boku) in more formal contexts) as a personality signifier - maybe to communicate something as simplistic as “I’m not the kind of guy who’s into sports.” 俺 (ore) could be used by a butch lesbian who still strongly identifies as a woman, in order to signify sexuality and an assertive personality. 私 (watashi) may be used by people of all genders to convey professionalism. The list goes on.

I believe this is what’s happening with Utena - she is signifying her rebellion against traditional feminine gender roles with her use of 僕 (boku), but as part of this rebellion, she necessarily must still be a girl. Rather than saying “girls don’t use boku, so I’m not a girl”, her pronoun choice is saying “your conception of femininity is bullshit, girls can use boku too”.

Through translation, gendered assumptions need to be made, sometimes about real people. Remember that he/they, she/her, they/them are purely English linguistic constructs, and don’t correspond directly to one’s gender, just as they don’t correspond directly to the Japanese pronouns one might use. Imagine a scenario where you are translating a news story about a Japanese genderqueer person. The most ethical way to determine what pronouns they would prefer would be to get in contact with them and ask them, right? But what if they don’t speak English? Are you going to have to teach them English, and the nuances of English pronoun choice, before you can translate the piece? That would be ridiculous! It’s simply not a viable option². So you must make a gendered assumption based on all the factors - their Japanese pronoun use (context dependent!), their clothing, the way they present their body, their speech patterns, etc.

If translation is about rewriting the text as if it were originally in the target language, you must also rewrite the gender of those people and characters in the translation. The question you must ask yourself is: How does their gender presentation, which has been tailored to a Japanese-language understanding of gender, correspond to an equivalent English-language understanding of gender? This is an incredibly fraught decision, but nonetheless a necessary one. It’s an unsatisfying dilemma, and one that poignantly exposes the fickle, unstable, culture-dependent nature of gender.

Notes and References

¹ Usually in Japanese, speakers use the person’s name directly to address someone in second or third person

² And has colonialist undertones as a solution if you ask me - “You need to pick English pronouns! You ought to understand your gender through our language!”

Bey, Marquis— 2021 Re: [No Subject]—On Nonbinary Gender

Rose divider taken from this post

[finelinevogue]

bump

summary - you don’t like people constantly touching your baby bump

word count - +1k

pairing - azriel x reader

✨🌙💫🌟✨🌙💫🌟✨🌙💫🌟✨🌙💫🌟✨

The party was in full swing.

It had been 2 weeks since you’d announced to your close friends and family that you and Azriel were pregnant - after having 1 month living with the news just you two.

Somehow, Rhys had managed to plan and pull-off a party in that short space of time in order to celebrate your pregnancy.

It was relatively low-key, only people that were closest to you and your family having been invited - mainly because you didn’t want a huge thing made of it but also because Azriel was a mad-man at the moment and wouldn’t let anyone he didn’t trust with his life near you.

Azriel had been overprotective to say the least.

Just the other day you’d tried to reach for your favourite mug in a very accessible shelf above you, but Azriel saw what you were doing and instantly panicked - moving you gently out of the way and fetching it for you. To which he also proceeded in making you a tea as he didn’t want you anywhere near boiling water.

“I can make my own cup of tea, Az.” You sighed.

“I know you can, but I can also make one for you.” He replied. That was his usual reply nowadays.

“I’m not incapable you know?”

“I know. I just… I can–.”

“Yes I know you can, love, but I don’t need you to all the time, okay? I love that you want to take care of me, but I also don’t want to feel useless.”

“How could you be useless? You’re currently doing the most important thing that you could ever be doing.” Azriel placed a soft hand on your stomach.

But after shunning Azriel for being too overprotective, you sort of wish he would bring it back again in this moment.

This party was lovely, but it was also so overwhelming.

You didn’t realise how many people would be so interested in coming up to you and feeling your baby bump. Hands constantly touching you when they usually wouldn’t if you weren’t pregnant. It felt weird and uncomfortable.

“Y/N!” Layla called, walking up to you with a glass of bubbly in her hand.

“Layla, hi.” You smiled at your friend who had worked with you in the Velaris bakery for many years.

“I can’t believe you’re pregnant.” She gushed, giggling a bit with excitement.

“Really? With the amount Y/N and Az sneak around every moment they get, I thought it was about damn time.” Nesta came up alongside you, rolling her eyes as is her and Cassian don’t do the exact same thing.

“Well with a mate like Azriel, I don’t blame you.” Layla wiggled her eyebrows and you gave her a small smile - feeling a little insecure that someone as beautiful as Layla was gushing over your mate whilst you were starting to look like an inflated balloon.

You felt Nesta give you a side look before wandering off into the crowd, leaving you to once again speak to Layla alone.

“So how far along are you?” Layla asked.

It would have been fine if she just asked that, but she had to go and put her hand against your bump at the same time.

You were far too polite to say anything but you really didn’t like her hand on your stomach. Not just hers but also everyone else’s who’d decided to just touch you without asking first.

It was starting to feel invasive.

“About 12 weeks.” You gave her a small smile, stepping back slightly.

Unfortunately for you she just followed, adding her hand back.

“Wow so you didn’t have any symptoms for a while then?” She asked, cupping the roundness of your belly with her palm.

It didn’t feel as comforting as when Azriel touched you. Nothing ever would, but there was something so overstimulating about someone other than your mate just touching you before asking. It felt a little violating.

Before you could get emotional about it in front of a crowded room you excused yourself.

You hurried as fast as you could out of the nearest door and walked through the corridors of the House of Wind.

The tears had arrived as you were walking, your heart beating fast and hands shaking with nerves.

Was it rude to not let people touch your bump? You couldn’t help but think.

Yet, at the same time you would never just go up to a female and put your hands on her pregnant bump - even if it was Feyre - You respect their boundaries too much. So why did you feel like getting upset about this was silly?

Was it the hormones? Because they had been making you feel slightly crazy recently.

You made it to the kitchen without bumping in to anyone.

You braced your arms on the kitchen counter and sunk your chin to your chest, letting out small whimpers as the tears fell.

There was no need to jump from your skin when Azriel’s arms snaked around your waist to hug you because you’d felt his presence the moment he’d appeared in the room. His cheek was delicately placed on the back of your head to still allow you the time and space to be upset.

Some of his shadows were already snaking around your arms in support and stomach in protection.

“What’s wrong, love?” He asked and you had to laugh at his tone.

“Ask me what you really want to ask, Az.” You lifted your chin up and tilted your head to the side to try and see him.

“I’m not sure asking you who I need to kill is the right thing to say when you’re crying.”

You chuckled, kissing the side of his face.

Azriel let you turn around in his hold, not letting your waist go for a moment though. Now his head was tilted down to face yours.

“Tell me.” He said softly.

Your smile broke as your lips wobbled, trying to focus on not crying and instead talk it through with your mate.

“I hate it.” Your voice wavered.

“Hate what? Who?”

“I hate purple touching my bump.”

“Okay.” Azriel said but didn’t add any thoughts for you. He wanted to hear you say everything on your mind first.

“N-not you. But, people have been touching my bump all day without asking and I hate it. I hate it so much, but I feel like a witch if I tell them to get off. Like it’s just my stomach at the end of the day..”

Azriel moved his hands quickly from your waist to cup your cheeks, stroking his thumb carefully over your cheeks. His touch immediately stopped you from talking.

“Woah, woah, woah. No. Don’t do that. Don’t try and talk yourself out of feeling the way you do. It’s your stomach, love. It’s your baby. No one should be doing anything you’re not comfortable with - ever.”

“No I know, but…”

“No buts. Y/N, love, if you feel uncomfortable then that’s the line I draw. The next person to touch your bump without asking is going to lose their hand.”

You give him a stoic look, but part of you was seriously wondering whether he was being truthful.

“Will you stay with me for the rest of the night?”

“Or how about we don’t go back at all.” He raised his eyebrows in suggestion at you.

“If you’re on the same wavelength as me then yes - please!”

“Perfect.” He kissed you softly, both your chests warming at the touch, “You get the ice-cream and I will get the blankets.”

[nortism]

Charlotte Lucas is such an important character to me. It’s so rare to have a female character who is entirely uninterested in romantic and marries for reasons other than love who is also portrayed as a decent, sensible person.

Whether you view her declaration of “not being romantic” as her being aro/ace, otherwise queer or just having different priorities, I love how not be interested in romantic love doesn’t mean she doesn’t love at all. She cares deeply for her family, especially her sister and of course for Elizabeth, to the point that she made sure to personally let her know about her engagement to Mr Collins in order to minimise hurt feelings as well as plotting out different men Lizzy could potentially marry because she knows Lizzy wants that romantic love as well as financial stability and even though she doesn’t feel that way, she cares enough about her friend to understand.

Lizzy reacts poorly to Charlotte’s choice to marry Mr Collins initially, for understandable reasons, but she and the reader alongside her eventually come to understand it was a practical decision and that marrying for money doesn’t make her a selfish person. She is a good wife to Mr Collins but she also gets to have her own home and space away from her family where she can live in relative comfort. She’s such an unique character and I really appreciate Austen including her and showing how marriage in this period was not just about love but also a financial agreement and women aren’t the problem for recognising this and trying to use this to get the best possible outcome for themselves and their families

[balioc]

Looking at the world from a manager's perspective, you can productively model the pool of workers as being divided into a few basic groups, which are defined and characterized by their driving motivations.

Insert all the usual disclaimers for this sort of thing - this is the roughest type of rough typology. I pulled these categories out of my raw intuition, and possibly a few more would crop up with some additional thought. In reality, the boundaries of these categories are incredibly fuzzy, and almost every individual is actually going to be motivated by a complicated mix of all the relevant motivations; we're talking REALLY SIMPLE HEURISTICS here. Etc.

There have been other well-known worker typologies that share a lot in common with my thoughts here; this is mostly not novel, it's mostly meant to refine a few ideas for particular purposes.

Hustlers are motivated by concrete personal advantage. Most commonly, and most straightforwardly, they want money - as much of it as they can get. They may also be interested in fame, idiosyncratic perks, etc. They do whatever they have to do in order to get what they want.

No surprise: you see huge preponderances of these guys in fields that provide outsize concrete rewards, e.g. finance, the upper echelons of management, etc. But not every natural-born Hustler is in a position to enter a glitzy high-paying field, and in fact you find Hustlers all throughout society and all throughout the economy, finding or making hustles wherever they go.

Having Hustlers working for you is mostly pretty great. They get shit done. They can be induced to work incredibly hard - probably harder than anyone else, under most circumstances - and they'll shank their own mothers if the price is right. If you need anything really important from them, anything at all, it's just a matter of bribing them enough.

...they will also, of course, cheerfully shank you if the price is right. Hustlers aren't the only wellsprings of institutional politics and infighting, but they're the most dangerous ones; they're always potential rivals to everyone around them. Also, you need to keep the tangible rewards flowing in a steady stream in order to get anything out of them, or else they'll put most of their effort into jumping ship (one way or another).

Craftsmen are motivated by the desire to do good work in their chosen fields, for its own sake and for the sake of their treasured self-image as people who do good work.

As you'd expect, for the most part, they're excellent workers and should be prized. But they're not perfect workers. Common weaknesses and downsides include:

They tend to have their own ideas about How Things Should Get Done; they're often resistant to externally-imposed product/service requirements or process changes (and bad at implementing those things) (no matter how important or well-conceived they are), and they're very resistant to "just get it out the door, right now done is better than good."

Being driven chiefly by internal motivation is great, but sometimes it's useful to be able to push things along with external motivators, and Craftsmen are pretty resistant to those. They don't like working more or harder than they're naturally inclined to work, they mostly sneer at carrots, and sticks make them sad and unproductive.

It's important to note that, while noteworthy skill within a field correlates with having a Craftsman temperament and motivation suite - for obvious reasons - those things are not identical at all. Plenty of Craftsmen are bad at their jobs, or just average, and plenty of the best workers are most motivated by things other than the Excellence of the Work Itself.

Fanatics are a relatively rare and specialized group, whom you find mostly within a few specific sorts of culturally-valorized fields. They're motivated by a desire to be part of something Important and Good in a Broader Sense: to Save the World, or some smaller-bore version of that.

They make amazing front-line soldiers, in the sorts of institutions that have "front-line soldiers." They work super hard, and you don't even need to bribe them, you just need to keep them hopped up on inspiration.

The big problem with them is that they're mostly motivated by a feeling - the feeling of Being Righteous - and it's not easy to control where they get that feeling, in any kind of precise way. They're just as resistant to external motivators as Craftsmen are, or even more so, but they're also not being guided by an ideal of effective quality. (No, not even if their chosen cause is theoretically all about an ideal of effective quality, hem hem.) They will happily waste vast amounts of time and money doing useless things, or even counterproductive things, so long as they're engaged in tasks that hit the right psychological buttons for them. There's also a constant risk that a Fanatic will decide that his employer is unrighteous, or that one of his coworkers is unrighteous, and start an internal conflict; the risk scales in a more-than-linear fashion with the number of Fanatics you keep around.

The biggest group, unsurprisingly, is the Normies. In most fields, it is much the biggest group. Normies are motivated by the desire to be members in good standing of their communities, to have positive relationships with the people around them, and to live up to basic norms and expectations.

Managerial skills, in the traditional sense, are incredibly important with Normies. If you want them to do good work for you - and you should want that, as a manager, you've almost certainly got a whole bunch of them - not only do you have to keep them pointed in the right direction, you have to make sure that they're supporting each other. With Hustlers, you just have to throw money at them (and avoid their power plays); with Craftsmen, you just have to let them do their thing, and occasionally badger them into giving you what you need; with Fanatics, you just have to be inspirational; but with Normies, you have to lead, and construct a productive community. You have to set reasonable, achievable norms and expectations that will get you what you need.

This wouldn't be complete if I didn't talk about the Defectors. The Defectors are motivated by not working. They don't want to be there, they resent having to do their jobs, and their primary goal is to shirk as much as possible. They will, by default, put much more effort into shirking than into their assigned tasks.

Obviously, managers don't want to have to deal with them, for good reason. But they're out there, in large numbers - not always in the places and fields where you'd expect to find them - and learning to manage them is sometimes more viable than trying to get rid of them. ("Moving Heaven and Earth to find them jobs that will change their attitude" is often a good plan, although of course it's not always possible and not always worth it.)

Crucially, Defectors are not Normies. If you start with the assumption that the average baseline worker is lazy and sour, you will make some incredibly stupid decisions. There are some fields where, for structural reasons, you can expect that a very large number of your workers will be Defectors; this is a huge and complicated challenge, well beyond the scope of this post, and good luck to you if you have to handle it, but it's not the default.

----------------------

Once you have those categories in your head, and can play with them, a number of obvious-seeming ideas present themselves. Just a couple, for now:

Most high-level executives are Hustlers, or have strong Hustler tendencies, for obvious reasons. Most of the people around them are Hustlers, or have strong Hustler tendencies. This means that they tend to overweight the Hustler outlook, by a lot, when they try to model what their workers are like. More specifically, I'd wager that a lot of them intuitively divide the world into "good workers" ( = Hustlers) and "bad workers" ( = Defectors). This will lead to a heavy overreliance on tangible rewards, a systematic shortchanging of community-building, etc. Which is in fact just what we see.

In particular - crucially - Hustlers and Defectors are the only worker types who ever become more productive under heavy stress. Hustlers actually benefit from it, because it raises the stakes of the game that they're already playing. (If you succeed, you'll be king of the world! If you fail, you'll be shark food! Go go go!) Defectors suffer terribly from stress, of course, but they can sometimes be spooked into doing their jobs as opposed to doing nothing, and sometimes that's the best/easiest way to get something out of them. But stress is terrible for everyone else. Craftsmen lose their focus. Fanatics lose their hope. It's worst of all for Normies, because they take all their cues from the vibes around them; they're productive when they learn to associate work with comfort and happiness, and when you fill their working world with frantic desperation, you just put them in a permanent cringe state.

stop trying to pit your Normies against each other in competitions for status and rewards dear God what are you stupid

To some extent, you can control your institution by controlling what types of workers you have. But only to some extent. There are only so many Hustlers and Craftsmen to go around, and if you want them, you will have to (a) be able to identify them reliably on little information [HINT: you are probably very bad at this], and (b) provide them with what they want [tangible rewards / comfortable security and interesting work]. "We are going to employ only the good special people" is feasible if you're an outfit of four workers; at a dozen, it's already become a stretch; at a few hundred, uh, pfffffffft. If you want to operate at scale, you need to be able to make Normies do good work, there is no substitute for it.

[wttcsms]

talk so sweet when you're doin' bad things !!

ᝰ.ᐟ after narrowly avoiding a kaiju attack unharmed, you think you’ve gotten away unscathed until you start feeling an unfamiliar, unsatiable heat building inside of you. it’s almost similar to the funny butterflies you get in your tummy when you see your older brother’s rival, third division vice captain soshiro hoshina. and wouldn’t you know it: you just so happen to cross paths with him. ( fem!reader )

pairing soshiro hoshina x reader word count 4.8k content contains soft dom!hoshina, slight love confessions, narumi's younger + civilian sister!reader, creampie, forbidden romance-ish, you two get caught by narumi in the end, sex pollen, biting (please look at hoshina's lil fangs & tell me he ISN'T a biter) kinktober masterlist

You’re in trouble. 

Gen always said you had a knack for getting yourself into situations. You always got in trouble back in school because one student would act up and make a mess, escaping in time, leaving you as the only person for the teacher to catch. Or, someone would break something in a store, and you’d be the unsuspecting customer to happen to walk down the aisle the same time the manager comes by to investigate. In a pay-it-forward chain, you naturally get stuck in front of the person with a 10-people group order, and you’ve always been too kindhearted (and people pleasing) to break the chain… 

Needless to say, it isn’t that you have a knack for getting yourself into trouble. It’s just that you always happen to find yourself at the wrong place at the wrong time. 

In your defense, your neighborhood isn’t just relatively safe — it’s as safe as can be. Gen’s the one who vetted it out for you in the first place, still a little annoyed that his little sister wants to play at being independent. Do you know how dangerous it is for a young woman to live alone in this city? He told you, before complaining that you’re one of the biggest headaches in his life. 

He says this, but he’s the one who patrolled your neighborhood for the two weeks leading up to you moving in. He’s the one who scaled the apartment complex and made sure the security measures were up to par. He’s the one who accessed all records of nearby kaiju attacks and took in the statistical data with careful consideration before finally agreeing that you could live here. You know your older brother cares. It’s why you always try to practice caution in your everyday life. The last thing you want is to be an inconvenience for him. 

This, you think nervously, goes a bit beyond a mere inconvenience. 

Right in front of the gates of your well-protected, super-safe luxury apartment complex is a kaiju. 

And while you and Gen might share the same genes, there are some differences between you and your older brother. The most important one right now being the fact that while he’s the captain of the First Division in the Defense Force, you’re just a civilian. 

A civilian who always finds herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

You’re not sure how long the monster’s been here, nor are you going to bother sticking around to find out. You have no clue when the Defense Force is going to dispatch, and you happen to be the only unlucky soul outside right now. The kaiju’s already detected your presence, and you fumble for the bracelet on your wrist, searching desperately for the emergency button on the wristband. Gen had gotten this custom-made for you. The minute you activate the button, Gen’s notified of your location. It’s an in-case-of-emergency-only, and you’ve never felt the need to use it before. Until now.

You take a few steps back, almost stumbling on the pavement, palming at your bracelet, letting out a sigh of relief as you find the tiny button. And then your heart drops as you realize just how bad your luck is.

The button’s jammed. 

Because of course it would be. 

Because you just always have to constantly be in trouble, don’t you? 

The last thing you can think about before your impending doom is that you hope Gen won’t be too upset. Everyone thinks your older brother is childish and sometimes hard to deal with, but you know him best. If only you were a bit more like him; maybe then you wouldn’t feel so resigned to your fate.

“[Name]? Whaddya doin’?” Casually dropping by — no, literally dropping onto the pavement — is none other than Third Division Vice Captain Soshiro Hoshina. 

On one hand, you’re happy he’s here. You are definitely not dying today. On the other hand… Why did it have to be him of all people? It’s one thing to have a near-death experience, but to have it in front of your longtime crush? You honestly wished the kaiju got a hit on you. Nothing fatal; just enough to have you in a coma, or better yet, turn you into an amnesiac so you never have to relive this moment in your memories. 

“H-Hoshina?” You squeak out. He gives you a concerned look before turning all of his attention to the kaiju, brandishing his swords in one swift, fluid movement. 

You’ve seen footage of Hoshina fighting before, even going out of your way to search up news footage of the Third Division’s missions just to catch a glimpse of the Vice Captain. You’re used to the way Gen fights; hard and fast, sometimes a bit flashy. He’s hard to miss when he’s hauling his almost cartoonishly big bayonet attached to his massive rifle. Maybe it’s crush bias, but you admire the way Hoshina fights. With him, he’s all lithe muscle and agility. There’s a sort of beauty to the way he fights, moving like a dancer, every arc and stroke of his twin blades purposeful. 

Despite the size of the beast in front of you, a muscular mass of pink and purple flesh, Hoshina makes quick work of it. So quick, in fact, that he doesn’t think to consult the command and support center as he digs his blades into its body, landing fatal cuts that take down the kaiju—

—and allowing its massive body to emit a strange violet gas that quickly starts to spread all over the scene. The scent of it is sickeningly sweet, and it overwhelms you.

Eyes wide, Hoshina sprints to your side, tugging at his own mask as if he’s about to force you to put it on, but you shake your head. You’re coughing, inhaling the mysterious vapor the now-dead kaiju is emitting, but you feel fine enough to start walking to the gate of your apartment.

“Fuck.” Hoshina curses, rushing to your side, gripping your left arm as you finish punching in the gate code. “Hey, are you hurt anywhere? D’you feel weird, funny, anything?” 

His concern for you is making you feel embarrassed, but it’s not like that’s the answer he’s searching for. 

“I’m fine, really.” You force a smile. “I’m safe now, all thanks to you. I’m sure Gen’s going to have a lot to say about this.” You roll your eyes, trying to lighten the mood, but Hoshina’s red eyes are staring deep into your own. He’s not laughing. In fact, this is one of the rare moments where you’ve ever seen the Vice Captain so serious. 

“Let me walk ya up to your apartment, at least. Just in case somethin’ happens.” 

You want to tell him that you’re pretty sure there’s no other kaijus lurking around in the hallway of your complex, ready to strike, but you can tell he’s stubborn. And besides, later at night, when you’re all alone and falling asleep to fantasies about a world where Soshiro Hoshina likes you just as much as you like him, you’ll romanticize the fuck out of him being so concerned for your safety.

Because at the end of the day, it’s Hoshina’s job to protect the defenseless citizens like you. He’d do this for any other person who has bad luck like you. It’s not like he’s walking you back, concerned for your safety, purely because it’s you.

Following your string of bad luck is the fact that the elevators are currently out of order. Fantastic.

You turn to him. “Um, I don’t really think walking up almost a dozen flight of stairs is in your job description. You can just leave me here, really! I’ll even call my brother, just in case you think something bad might happen to me in the five minutes you leave me alone.” 

“Don’t be silly, Junior.” This time, Hoshina does flash you his normal, teasing smile. The one that you fell head over heels for back on the primary school playground. The gesture is enough to make you almost ignore the way he brings up that stupid nickname. Junior. Narumi Junior — that’s who you are to him. His rival’s annoying little sister, always faithfully trailing behind her older brother, never saying a word when Gen starts throwing insults his way. “Just ‘cause I’m not captain of the First Division doesn’t mean I can’t handle a few flight of stairs. Ya doubtin’ me?” 

You shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip. Hoshina’s just being nice, you tell yourself. And you have to keep repeating this mantra in your head as you dutifully follow a step behind him on the stairs. 

You’ve noticed it before, but you’ve never been this close up ‘til now. Hoshina’s uniform fits him very well. The black fabric of the suit only serves to emphasize the lean muscles he’s spent years training, his Defense Force-issued boots only serve to announce every step he takes, even the gas mask he wears to protect himself — all of it just suits him so well. 

You try to ignore the flicker of heat lighting up your core, something a little bit more intense than the little flutter of butterflies you normally get when you’re next to Hoshina. You just have to make it back to your apartment, you reason. You’ll make it back to your apartment, and you can lay down on your bed, and then you’ll have all the time in the world to think about how nice Hoshina looks in his uniform, and how special you feel that he’s personally escorting you home. 

But the growing heat within you becomes harder to ignore, and you can’t quite control your labored breaths, not from the walk upstairs but from the fact that you truly do feel hot. Hot, and dizzy, and downright desperate for some relief. Something isn’t right, you realize. And Hoshina catches on quick, too, especially when your knees buckle and you nearly fall until he catches you in his arms. 

He says your name so seriously, you’re almost snapped out of whatever weird daze you’re in. “What’s the matter? What’s wrong?” His eyes scan your weakened body before pulling you closer to him. In a second, he’s lifting you up, carrying you bridal style as he starts to sprint up the stairs. You know there’s a time and place for everything, but you can’t help but admire the fact that Hoshina can carry you while running up several stories and he’s not even breaking a sweat. 

The thought of this makes your core grow warmer, and you wriggle a bit in his hold. 

“We’re almost to your apartment, don’t worry.” He reassures you, tightening his grip on you. Hoshina is holding you so close to him that with every inhale, you breathe him in. He smells of musky cologne and something familiar from your childhood, like mochi and other sweets. It’s a funny mix, but it suits him. You find yourself snuggling even closer to him, and if you were in your right state of mind, you would be screaming at yourself for being so bold. But the heat inside of you, it’s seeking him out. 

“I need your key, [Name].” He tells you, and despite the way he’s clearly in a rush, he’s still patient and sweet with you. 

You shamelessly bury the front of your face into his chest, trying to avoid him as you admit, “I must’ve dropped it.” 

He swears, but it’s not at you. “That’s okay.” He tells you, even though you’re proving to be a very inconvenient girl. “Hey, who pays for this apartment?” 

“Gen.” You sheepishly admit. You offered to pay the rent, but he’s the one who chose the insanely expensive penthouse for you. One of you is making a Captain-level salary, and it’s damn sure not you. It only makes sense he’d cover rent. 

“Good.” Hoshina says, before promptly kicking open your door.

And again, time and place for everything, but you can’t help but get a little too excited at his show of strength. 

Hoshina sets you down gently on your bed, frowning as he takes you in. 

“What’s the matter? You need to tell me how you’re feelin’, or else I can’t help you, okay?” 

Hoshina’s being so gentle with you, it’s enough to make your heart soar and ache all at once. He leans down, pressing a cool hand to your forehead. You must feel normal enough, because he doesn’t make a comment, even though you feel like you’re burning up. 

You know what’s the matter. 

You want Soshiro Hoshina in a way a woman wants a man. 

“...hot…” You finally mutter out, squirming on top of your sheets. “I‘m hot.” 

“Hot?” Hoshina’s confused for a few seconds, until he watches the way you press your thighs together, your tiny fingers tugging at your clothes, the way you bite down on the bottom of your lip before peering up at him curiously, trying to see if he understands you. 

It hits him all at once. A kaiju that’s a blend of pink and purple, the sweet scent its gas emitted. This is a rare type of kaiju; the one that boosts one’s pheromones, turns its victim delirious with lust. The only way to help, really, is for the affected person to be truly satiated. 

He knows it’s wrong to think of Narumi’s little sister like this, but Hoshina would be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about you writhing on a bed, wantonly calling out his name, begging for him to give you relief that you can’t find from anyone else. He dreams about it, really. Not just the sex, but everything that encompasses taking care of you. He wants to make sure that you’re always well taken care of, always safe, always protected. This isn’t the Third Divison’s territory, y’know. But between patrol breaks, Hoshina finds himself around your neighborhood just on the off chance that something bad happens. It’s a good thing he was there today. 

And it’s his lucky day, he thinks, that he’s here with you now.

No other man would treat you as well. No other man would be able to satiate you.

“Let me help you, baby.” The pet name rolls off easily on his tongue. He’s so used to teasing you, careful to avoid saying your name too much. He saves his reverent groans of your name for when he’s pumping his cock in the darkness of his room. “I know exactly what you need.” 

“Hoshina.” You moan out, and he swallows hard at how desperate you sound for him. “I need you so bad.”

“It’s the kaiju.” He mutters, getting on the bed with you, balancing himself on his knees. He’s towering over you from this angle, and you look up at him. “The kaiju’s gas acts as a… bit of a sex pollen, really. And I can help ya combat the effects, but I— I can’t take advantage of ya. You’re Narumi’s precious lil’ sister. It’d be wrong.” He’s trying to talk some sense, but you’re immediately frowning. 

“Nuh uh.” You whine out, pouting. And it’s thanks to the kaiju that you have lowered your inhibitions, because you would never admit this out loud otherwise. “I always want Vice Captain Hoshina like this.” 

Fuck. You know just how to drive a man crazy.

“Usin’ my title?” He grins, leaning down to get his face closer to yours. “Good girl. Ya mind your manners, don’t ya?” 

And he rewards you with a kiss. 

The kiss turns hungry, desperate. You’re tilting your head up a bit to try to capture his lips some more, even though the two of you are already as close as can be. You two are a mess of tongue and teeth by the time you have to struggle for oxygen, and as he reluctantly pulls back, there’s even a thin string of saliva still connecting the two of you. 

“So, ya always wanted me, huh?” The thought that the girl of his dreams could possibly want him as much as he wants her turns him on like nothing else. He must be dreaming, he decides. And then he thinks, he doesn’t fucking care if this is a dream or not. If he gets to fuck you boneless, then he trusts in himself to never wake up. “Whaddya like about me so much?” 

He’s just teasing you now. He’s always teasing you. It’s what he’s good at. You feel heat rise to your cheeks as you shyly admit, “I’ve always liked you. Even before you got the fancy uniform and your rank. You’re funny and sweet and you care about others.” Even in your sex-focused mind, the genuine feelings you harbor for Hoshina shine through. This catches him off guard. 

You might be under the effects of the kaiju’s vapor, but the sweet girl he’s fallen for is still laying down right underneath him. It’s not just lust for you. There’s genuine love.

“Fuck, I’m gonna treat you so well.” He peppers kisses all over your face; your cheeks, your eyelids, your jawline, teasing you ‘til he finally, finally, plants a kiss on your swollen lips again. 

He makes quick work of your clothes, committing the sight of your bare body to his memory. He tells you you’re beautiful, and he means it. You want to tell him to stop trying to charm you, but then he’s immediately going down on you, digging his fingers into the plush of your thighs as he spreads them apart, forcing you to open yourself up to him.

You’re caught off guard, but your body screams in relief as you watch Hoshina get eye-level with your cunt. He licks his lips before glancing up at you. 

“Such a cute pussy my lil’ civvie baby has.” Civvie — Hoshina never lets you forget that you’re a civilian, but you don’t know it yet (you will, eventually), but Hoshina’s never actually been bothered about this fact. Actually, he takes pride in the idea that he’ll be the one to take care of you, the one to keep you safe. 

Right now, though, he’s tasked with being the one who makes sure you’re satiated.

You have the prettiest pussy Hoshina’s ever, and as his mouth descends onto your waiting heat, he determines that you’ve got the sweetest taste, too. You let out cute, little mewls that only motivate him to devour you some more, and he groans into your pussy as he laps at your arousal, your juices seeming to never stop flowing. 

Your body arches up, and Hoshina has to apply pressure to his grip on your thighs, to force you back down so he can continue licking at your cunt at his own hungry pace. When bucking your hips fails, you find yourself losing control of your body, your legs spasming, your thighs clamping down on his head. Your fingers tangle themselves into the thick, dark strands of Hoshina’s hair, and he thinks you’re trying to suffocate him with your pussy.

What a way to go, honestly. 

He manages to lift his head up, cheeks flushed from the heat in between your thighs, chin and lips wet with your juices. “Ahh.” He smacks his lips, licking up traces of your slick that his tongue can reach. “My civvie has the sweetest pussy in the world.” He inserts a finger into your wet hole, and you literally yelp. Your walls hungrily clamp down on his single digit, and he laughs. 

“D’ya want more?” He sounds innocent enough, almost as if he isn’t leisurely fucking you with one finger. “‘Cause I can give ya more. All ya have to do is ask.”

“Pl-ease.” The word comes out in broken syllables. You clutch at his bicep, nails digging into the material of his combat suit. It’s because he still has his uniform on that he can’t really feel you. 

“Who are ya askin’?” He teases, pumping his finger at the same agonizingly slow pace he’s been giving you. You keep clenching around him, your body making it obvious who you’re hungry for. 

“I-I’m asking Vice Captain Hos— Soshiro.”

You say his title, and he feels himself tightening in his combat suit. You say his name, and his heart nearly skips a beat.

Oh, he’ll give you everything he’s got, now.

The intrusion of three fingers inside your cunt catches you off guard, and he swallows up that shocked moan of yours by slotting his mouth against yours, kissing you with a vigorous passion that has you realizing that maybe Soshiro just might like you back. 

He spreads his fingers while they’re buried deep inside your cunt, trying to desperately stretch out your pussy, get you nice and wet and ready to take his cock. 

“Ah! Wait! No, ‘Shiro, please!” You protest as he pulls his fingers out, licking and savoring the taste of your essence. You were about to cum, and he knew it. 

He plants a rather chaste kiss on your forehead before telling you, “You hafta ask me to cum, okay? Can my little civvie baby get that in her head?” 

You nod weakly, sniffling a bit as you’re disappointed from your stolen orgasm. 

“Hey,” he taps on your cunt gently, but with just enough firm pressure to make you understand you have to look at him, to listen to his commands. “When your Vice Captain tells ya somethin’, ya need to answer. Where’s my baby’s manners?” 

“S-sorry, Vice Captain.” You look up at him, teary-eyed. “Can I please cum?” 

“Aw, you’re askin’ me so sweetly, it’s hard to say no to you.” But from the familiar mischievous glint in his eyes, it’s clear what his answer is. “But today, you’re only gonna be able to cum all over my cock.” 

Hoshina makes no effort to take off his clothes fully. The uniform that you admire him in is only being pulled out of the way rather than completely off. Hoshina messes with the bottom half, pulling at the suit until he can free his cock. He’s already hard, and he pumps his cock a few times, using the fingers covered in his spit and your slick to act as lube. 

“See how hard your Vice Captain is? My little civvie got me all fired up.” There’s a feral, crazed look in his eyes as he stares down at you, at how your legs are spread and your pussy is so wet. “This is what you wanted the whole time, huh? You wanted to be stuffed full of my cock. Poor baby.” His tone is mocking, but it only makes your hole clench at nothing. You’re so heartbreakingly empty of him that you’ll do anything to make sure he gives you what he promised. “I know, you must be all hot and bothered right now. Pussy so empty, waitin’ for me, huh?” 

You nod, tears streaming down your face. Hoshina chuckles at the sight. He hasn’t even fucked you properly yet, and you’re already a mess. Fuck, he loves you so much. 

When he presses the tip of his cock to your entrance, your pussy is instantly swallowing him up, greedy for more of him. So he gives in, because the two of you have clearly been wanting and waiting for this for so long, why bother dragging it out any further?

“A-ah.” Your legs are trembling as your pussy engulfs more and more of Hoshina’s thick cock. “It’s too big.” You whine out, more tears falling as you take him in completely, his whole entire cock buried deep inside of you, throbbing impatiently, insisting that he pins you down and fucks you hard and fast.

“It’ll be okay.” He reassures you, rubbing comforting circles on your hip. “I’ll make ya feel so good. Ya just gotta relax for me, baby. Remember? You’re the one who wanted this so badly.” He coos, moving his hand to rub at your clit, the little nub hardening for him. “Good girl, atta girl, that’s my precious civvie. Doin’ so good for me; I knew you would.” He praises you when he feels you start to move your hips a bit, begging for movement now, and he kisses your cheek when he feels your pussy yielding to his cock. “I’m going to fuck you now, baby.” 

He doesn’t wait for you to answer.

“You feel so good.” He grunts this directly in your ear, which rewards him with a cute little whimper from you, and the feel of your pussy clamping down on him, tightening and preening at the praise. He’s holding himself up by his elbows, his face so close to your own as he fucks you, just like how he promised he would. It’s sweetly intimate this way, and you love it. He can tell.

“Your pussy feels so good around my cock. So tight. So fuckin’ wet.” His thrusts are deep, powerful. His cock seems to reach into the depths of your pussy, and you don’t think you’ll ever recover. You don’t think you want to. 

You curl your arms around his neck, bringing him even closer to you. Your string of moans and broken sobs of his name haven’t stopped flowing from your lips, and the pleasure is so overwhelming, so good, so Hoshina. You don’t realize what he’s planning on doing until it’s too late. He licks at the soft skin between your shoulder and neck, deciding which spot he wants to mark up first, before taking his sharp canines, the ones you love so much, and digging them deep into your flesh. 

“Ah!” The pain bleeds in with the pleasure. The sting of his bite is heightened when he nuzzles your neck with his nose endearingly, almost as an apology, before he bites down in a different spot. Marking his territory. 

It feels so good in such a foreign way, you forget what your Vice Captain told you. If you want to cum, you have to ask. But he’s making you feel so good, your climax comes without warning. Your walls tighten up around him, and he can feel you, can feel you creaming around his cock like the dirty, disobedient girl you are.

“What did I tell ya?” He growls, looking down at where the two of you are connected. He pulls out a bit, just to stare at the ring of white encircling his cock. “Hm?” He takes a hand to grab at your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Is my little civvie so fucked dumb her brain doesn’t work anymore? I thought I told ya that if you wanted to cum, you better ask my permission.”

“I’m s-sorry!” You gasp out. “B-but you made me feel… Felt too good, I didn’t know I was going to!” You’re crying again now, and he almost feels bad. Instead, he likes this power he has over you, and he’s back to being his usual, teasing and mocking self. 

“Aw, did I break you?” He coos sweetly, pounding into your pussy with a fervor he hasn’t exhibited before. Your eyes widen when you realize he still has on his combat suit. He’s drawing out his strength from the suit, using it to fuck into you even harder. “S’okay, baby. No need to cry. I’m not mad at ya.” 

His hips stutter when he’s ready to finish. His thrusts falter in its usual pinpoint precise movements, and he drags your body towards him, pushing you deep onto his cock as he groans out your name. The heat of his cum fills your twitching, sensitive cunt, and you think you could probably cum again just from the pleasure of having Vice Captain Soshiro Hoshina fill you up. 

“Ah, fuck.” He breathes out, leaning his forehead against your own, panting a bit, his chest rising and falling. “You drive me crazy, ya know that?” 

You let out a weak giggle, equally breathless. Your mind feels a lot clearer now, the heat within you subsiding greatly. You wrap your legs around his slim waist, refusing to let him go even though he refuses to leave you in the first place. He looks like he’s about to say something until a familiar, booming voice comes from the front of your apartment.

“[Name]?” Gen calls out, his footsteps indicating that he’s coming closer. “[Name], where are you?” 

Your eyes widen in shock and fear, the cute afterglow of the moment officially ruined, all thanks to your annoying older brother. Hoshina is quick when he pulls the covers of your bed over your naked body, and he’s adjusting his combat suit as Gen makes it to your bedroom. 

You shut your eyes, not wanting to witness the expression on your brother’s face.

“Oh, Narumi.” Hoshina says brightly. “Funny runnin’ into you here.”

[harmoonix]

Sunset Boulevard 🩷🧡🏵

Astrology Observations

🏵 Leo Risings/Leo Venus/Leo in the 5th or 7th house like to show their partners off in big ways. Their partners can be their whole pride/world/attention

🩷 Lilith in the air signs has such a good vibe. You feel so close attached to them because their whole personality

🧡 Scorpio Venus/Rising/Scorpio in the 5th or 7th house has very intense eyes, their looks are full of passion/lust/magnetism

🏵 Capricorns Venus/Risings/Capricorn in the 5th or 7th house, something very attractive of them is that...they dont like to date immature ppl. They always know what they want. Idk i love them for that

🩷 Kristen Stewart has a PISCES VENUS?? OMG. Those who know me, know that I am obsessed with Pisces Venus. SHES MESMERIZING...And she also has a Libra Moon??? SHE ENDED EVERYONE. It makes so much sense I'm in shock.

🧡 Usually natives with air signs in the 3rd/11th house tend to have really big dreams and a very open mindset. They can be known to be the creative mind of a group

🏵 Virgo and in general earth placements tend to have issues with their body in terms of eating. I know a Virgo Chiron who has a big appetite but is afraid to gain weight :/. They can go through body changes

🩷 This thing is practiced more by witches but womens menstrual cycle often tends to be linked with the lunar cycle and you can do different rituals or purifying baths to help with it. The body is really amazing

🧡 Neptune and Uranus in the 1st house tend to be sensitive to others energy. But also drained by it. Make sure to potect your energy so you dont feel like fainting at the end of the day

🏵 By the time i write this post is 11:11. I don't really know if is a sign or not. But i find it cute. We shall all be blessed

🩷 People with Venus in Fire signs know how to make a good first impression. You either get charmed or a blessing in disguise when youre with them

🧡 People with Jupiter in the 11th or 10th house can become lawyers or study law/having relatives in this profession

🏵 Saturn or Pluto in the 4th house natives might not wanna have kids. Sensitive topic but for sure family trauma too. Better to be safe than sorry (and i know it doesn't apply to everyone)

🩷 Mars in the 3rd house can be the type of person to scream in the traffic/traffic lights/others cars. Just having a roast time

🧡 Neptune in the 4th house and sometimes south node in tbe 4th house can indicate secrets in the family

🏵 If you have Saturn in the 2nd house and it happens to be a cardinal sign like aries/cancer/capricorn/libra, please make sure youre not in debt or you dont depend on anyone.

🩷 Natives with Pluto in the 6th house may live in a very chaotic world. Like the 6th house being the house of order and organizing but Pluto makes it so messy and it can happen if you have Pluto at 6° or 18° degrees too

🧡 Lilith in the 10th or 11th house can lie for attention or to gain attention. This placement plays a big role in someones reputation

🏵 Gemini Mercuries/Gemini Risings have it probably the easiest when it comes to expressing themselves and thats actually so important for their development

🩷 People with Mercury - Venus aspects...People love their voice. Their voice may sound pleasant or abundantly beautiful

🧡 Jupiter - Ascendant aspects are a blessing to your body/appearance even if you may doubt yourself. You're touched by Jupiter's abundance

🏵 People with Stellium in Scorpio (Stellium = 3 planets or more than 3 in one sign) these people study other people too well. They may know everything and all about someone

🩷 Love asteroids or planets in the 6th, 10th, or 11th house can lowkey indicate falling in love with co-workers or ppl at your work

🏵 Hope you have a good day! And stay safe please summer can be so dangerous with those heats 😭...I personally hate the heat waves....

[aphrodicci]

ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ ʀᴜʟᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇꜱ

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and i wanted to be kind and leave three mores spot for someone for a chart reading, £30 for any type of chart reading.

PREVIOUS

♇ what is a ruler in astrology?

♇ a ruler in astrology is a planetary ruler, a planet that rules over the sign that takes over a house, for example, someone with capricorn in their second house, will have saturn as their second house ruler.

♇ my second house is ruled by saturn, and saturn is placed in my seventh house in astrology.

♇ 2H RULER IN THE 1H ⟶ self value means a lot to them. distinct/nice voice can become famous for that. family-oriented or known as the most selfish family member. beauty and money oriented. very stubborn but beautiful, can imply that romance and communication is important to native.

♇ 2H RULER IN THE 2H ⟶ can be self-centred, being someone who is vocal. can be someone who is frugal as well. might like to sing, cook and create are. stubborn. could be obsessed with future spouse and can be someone who likes to many money. can be very sensual/sexual.

♇ 2H RULER IN THE 3H ⟶ very communicative. slow speakers or likes to take time to make their point. can be someone who likes to make quick money. pretty hands and hand writing. can be manipulative. values intelligent and siblings and cousins. spends money on food and travelling. beautiful relatives and pretty/loud neighbourhood.

♇ 2H RULER IN THE 4H ⟶ values family and order. very emotionally distant and private. very secretive and easily hurt. can be someone who is protective, and might become the money-maker of the family. being someone who has a nice aesthetic, and might sound like your mother, or a prominent female figure in the family.

♇ 2H RULER IN THE 5H ⟶ very creative people. superstars and values talent. could value children and be very protective over them. or could value healing the inner child. very intelligent and educated. very sexual and can value romance and sex. could moan loud during sex or could like listening to hot audios.

♇ 2H RULER IN THE 6H ⟶ troubles with eating. gym/health freak. can value order and good health. might like to speak on the phone a lot and can be someone who could love pets or animals in general. being someone who likes to win as well, very competitive souls. but can be critical or someone who fishes for compliments to other people.

♱ 2H RULER IN THE 7H ⟶ money from partners or business partnerships. can value connections with friends, family and people in general. can have a nice/airy voice, family relationship might've impacted how you behave in relationships. might love to buy aesthetically pleasing stuff and can be known to be pretty.

♱ 2H RULER IN THE 8H ⟶ very private and guarded people. family secrets can change them. gaining finances through spouse or a will. can be be intimate and values intimacy. secret siblings/family members. sensual voices, known for voice acting or even singing. could also be mean if they wanted to.

♱ 2H RULER IN THE 9H ⟶ values intelligence and travelling. could like to be flattered. being someone who could like to trade with other people. can be someone who values philosophy or having faith in something. people believing in them helps them become more confident, another placement where someone fishes for compliments all the time. can gain money through creative writing or directing. can have a big ego as well.

♱ 2H RULER IN THE 10H ⟶ popular business moguls. can be a famous vocal actress or actor. up-front person. nice deep/commanding voice. authoritative person, someone who values career, discipline and reputation. can be very self-involved and controlling. prominent financial life. coming from a respectable or known family.

♱ 2H RULER IN THE 11H ⟶ popular friends, values friendship and being independent. gaining money from the internet or through networking. distinct voices might sound animated. can be a humanitarian. weird food taste, found family core. being someone who loves privacy and charity. people are curious about your family, how you earn money. could have a wealthy future, or wealthy friends.

♱ 2H RULER IN THE 12H ⟶ drains through money. retail therapy. struggles with food. might be paranoid. light voices but shady people. unexpected talent, people are surprised whenever they're good at something. a family member might've gone to prison/been behind bars. manifestors. could be interested in the fae, could have dreamy beauty. might disappear a lot, and can be delusional.

masterlist

and i wanted to be kind and leave three mores spot for someone for a chart reading, £30 for any type of chart reading.

[livinghalfway]

Importance

We do a lot of Danny leaving the league and being adopted by the Fentons but let’s switch that around.

Talia is on a mission investigating the Fenton scientists, and their research on ectoplasm—which sounds suspiciously similar to the Lazarus pits—when she comes across their young son Daniel Fenton.

Before Talia had even entered the house she watched as the scientists ran out the front door yelling something about having to go and capture a ghost. She also knows that their young daughter is currently spending the night with an aunt, and upon seeing the Fentons drive away, the door left unlocked, Talia notes, assumes that the son is with the aunt as well.

Quickly and efficiently she copies any important documents that look useful, and just as Talia is about to leave a sharp cry rings throughout the house. In a moment of weakness she turns around and goes further into the home to find the source of the crying. That is when she finds baby Daniel Fenton (like 6 months old) who had been left all alone in his nursery.

Thinking of her own son, Damian (who's around 3), she reaches out and gently begins to rock him in her arms. When given this mission Ra's had given her the order to take anything of importance she finds and this, Talia decides, is something of importance as she looks down at the boy now calm and sleeping; a tiny hand gripping onto her shirt.

Once arriving back at Nanda Parbat the first thing she does is present her father with the information she gathered, and her new son. Within the next few hours the second grandson to the Demon’s head is announced, Danyal al Ghul.

Damian absolutely adores Danyal, and takes his new role as a big brother very seriously.

Things from here continue relatively as normal with Damian (8) and Danyal (5) arriving at the manor. Danyal may not be his by blood, but Bruce welcomes the boy nonetheless. He would have done so even without Damian’s threats of violence.

A few more years pass and Damian (14) is going steady with his role as Robin, and Danyal (12) trains with his siblings but has not been allowed out yet on patrol. After a fight with Bruce and Damian about this fact, Danyal decides he’s going to look into his biological family.

Dead end after dead end Danyal eventually contacts Talia and asks her where he came from. It takes a bit of but Talia does tell him how she found him ‘abandoned’ in the home of a couple she was looking into. Their names and the sister who wasn’t there that night.

With this new information Danyal leaves a note for his family to find as he makes his way to Illonis as quickly as he can knowing that Damian, at the very least, will be right on his heels when he discovers his disappearance.

When he arrives at the Fenton house it’s quiet. He knows that his sister, Jazz, will be arriving home from school any minute now. Against his better judgement Danyal decides to enter and take a look around. This leads him to the basement standing in front of a giant machine.

The papers on the desk tell him that his bio parents are trying to build some kind of portal with their most recent attempt ending in failure.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Danyal investigates the portal. While taking a step inside the lab door slams open causing him to trip; his hand landing on a button. Bruce, Damian, and Jazz now watch on as Danyal dies right in front of them. He comes back, different now.

A few months later Bruce Wayne announces the arrival of his newest adoptive daughter, and a new vigilante known as Potoo (look it up lol, they have a nickname called “ghost birds”) is seen running around with Batman and Robin.

[chow0w]

I really liked your scorpion den fashion, so what do you think the differences are between deep palace and summer palace fashion styles? No need for pics, just words

..But who would I be without my pictures?

On a real note, I DID try to answer this with words only, but as I was typing I found myself wanting to sketch some things out. Either way, I do appreciate the invitation to blabber!

So let's get right into it - in order to make this easy for myself, I started by distinguishing between deep/summer region seawings. Deep palace dwellers would likely live in the deep or mid ocean, with brighter bioluminescence and an extra head lantern (I figured they would need brighter marks for hunting aid.) By contrast, the summer palace seawing has bright, tropical colors and patterns resembling coral, sand or seawater in the light. Their bioluminescence would be more for communication than hunting, and dimmer by proxy.

An important thing to consider for both regions is practicality - seawings need to move around relatively fast in order to be both productive and comfortable. Having heavy or extensive decor would reduce streamlining while swimming, and be impractical to the everyday dragon. Of course, Royals and other high ranking seawings would probably have to suffer through the slowness in favor of extreme accessorizing.

in the summer palace teritory, fashion heavily revolves around the environment it is located in. Dragons by a coral reef would accordingly accessorize to match the vibrant atmosphere, while those living on a sandbar or seabed would stick to materials that allow them to blend in. Of course, class is important to consider: affluent dragons would be the first (and only) group to truly over-accessorize, while a working class population will stick to small satchels or trinkets that could provide some sense of use. I imagine the average shallow-water hunter will wrap kelp/other marine herbs around their ears or horns to store and use later... medicinal plants for emergency scrapes, or edible plants to snack on during the day.

Regardless, flamboyance and beauty are much more prevalent aspects of seawing fashion in shallow waters: and the population likely associate vibrant good fashion with good health, prosperity and pride in one's home.

On the other hand, dragons of the deep palace would carry a significantly different view on fashion and its place in society. Terms like 'vibrant' and 'tropical' would have next to no meaning - in such a low-light environment, the prettiest seawings would ultimately be the ones who can best make use of darkness. Of course, there would also probably be a significant portion of the population who live low enough where they don't give a shit what they look like because nobody really sees anyone else..

In terms of the actual fashion, I imagine most seawings make use of the limited resources they have: other bioluminescent creatures, rocks or bones could all act as accessories. Perhaps the biggest and oldest of dragons can even use whalefall skeletons as armor pieces. Either way, the most important aspects of design are the silhouette and the luminescence, given that those are the only things you can guarantee another dragon will be able to see. Seawings may choose to tailor their fins and wings to accommodate this, or diet using other bioluminescent creatures to increase their own glow.

That's all I have! Thank you so much for the question - it was really fun to think about, and sprouted a few other tangent ideas on border village fashion and trade between tribes.

I deeply apologize for bringing this up again, but I am unfortunately kind of required to keep talking about the art competition until it ends. We're seeing a lot of cool WIP submissions in the server! If you want to join and draw some WoF scenes, the link to my discord server is here:

Thank you so much to everyone who's already here, and see you later (o´▽`o)