#slight language

[ask-kimerako-therapycarpool]

well, what happened?

[He sighs and clears his throat before speaking,] Anyway... we were out to watch a pretty light show because it was a deity holiday today, because why not? I love me a colorful light and fireworks show. And before we knew it, there were some red and purple flames heading towards exactly our way! It was moving fast right at all of us! At least we got out of the way, but it doesn't even end here! Then Neon just shows up, asking us if we were okay— [He remarks next with an irritated grumble,] —he sounded as if he suddenly cared again out of the blue since the "rescued from the void" situation. Others mes asked if he had anything to do with it, but he just disappeared and didn't answer! I don't know how, but I knew there was some threat nearby, so I stayed right where I ran, all ready to fight... and then some small star stickers just started hitting me and sticking on me! I couldn't even get those damn things off!!

[aventurineswife]

Reader speaks sometimes in their native language when they are frustrated/excited/in the middle of a rant switch languages. And it intrigues Aventurine, who secretly starts to learn the language too, just to listen in secret.

One day, maybe during a light argument between them, reader drops a cuss word that does translate to "f*** you" and aventurine takes this moment to reply, while grinning from ear to ear "oh? Youre offering for once?"

Stunned silence.

Reader starts freaking out in their native language while aven just stands there with that shit eating grin.

Established relationship. No, they never done the deed, but he wanted to catch reader by surprise, and he did. He so proud of himself.

“You think you’re clever, but just remember: I’m one step ahead”

Summary: You and Aventurine are sharing a relaxed afternoon, and a playful argument about his so-called "inspirational mess" turns into teasing banter. When your frustration leads you to mutter in your native language, Aventurine—who’s secretly been learning it—seizes the chance to tease you in return. Caught between embarrassment and laughter, you realize he’s been one step ahead, and Aventurine is all too proud of himself for the surprise.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Established Relationship, Fluff, Playful Banter, Lighthearted Argument, Language Barrier, Teasing, Humor.

Waring: Slight Swearing.

A/N: THIS IS SUCH A FUNNY REQ!! I LOVE IT HONESTLY!! 🤭 (As someone's who's native language is not English, this is very funny and cute at the same time🥹🤧like imagine your s/o learning your language just so you can communicate freely or learn what you have been saying 🤭🫶💖🥹)

You’re both lounging around his suite on a lazy afternoon, a stack of paperwork untouched as the conversation somehow spirals into an easy back-and-forth about each other’s quirks. It’s all lighthearted and playful, but it doesn’t take long before you’re teasing him for his incredibly deliberate way of never quite cleaning up his cards and dice, always keeping them just a bit scattered, “for inspiration,” he claims.

“Inspiration, huh?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “Well, maybe my inspiration would be higher if I didn’t trip over your cards every time I’m here.”

Aventurine raises his hands in mock surrender. “I’m telling you, darling, you can’t rush art! It’s all about atmosphere.”

“Atmosphere?” you scoff, switching to your native tongue as you get more animated. “More like a mess that you just want me to overlook!”

He smirks, feigning offense. “My ‘mess’ is a masterpiece—unlike someone’s habit of muttering incomprehensibly every time they don’t get their way.” he teases, with that knowing look in his eyes. He’s clearly waiting for you to switch languages again.

You roll your eyes, slipping into your native tongue almost instinctively. “Maybe if you weren’t so infuriatingly full of yourself, I wouldn’t have to mutter at all.”

Aventurine chuckles, his grin only widening. “Full of myself?” he repeats, pushing back just enough to keep the mood light. “Look who’s talking—every time you walk into this room, you practically take over.”

“Take over? Oh, please,” you huff, slipping deeper into your language as you mutter, “if anything, I’m saving this place from turning into a pigsty.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly waiting for the right moment, and finally, you let slip a particularly choice phrase—a cuss word that, in your language, translates a little too directly to “fuck you.”

He seizes the opportunity, his face lighting up with a triumphant grin. “Oh? You’re offering for once?”

The world goes still. You blink at him in shock, the realization dawning as your mind scrambles. He understood you—completely. Your cheeks flush, and before you can help it, you’re sputtering in your native language, tripping over words and trying to make sense of how he even learned it.

Aventurine just stands there, that infuriatingly smug grin plastered across his face, arms crossed in satisfaction. “Surprised?” he drawls, clearly reveling in your stunned reaction. “Turns out you’re not the only one with hidden talents.”

You start freaking out, half-laughing, half-ranting in your language, swearing at him all over again. He just chuckles, standing back and drinking it all in, proud as ever for catching you off guard.

“Oh, please,” he says with a chuckle, “keep going—I’m starting to enjoy these rants.”

You cover your face, torn between embarrassment and laughter, and finally shake your head. “One day, I’m going to get you back for this.”

He leans closer, his voice low and challenging. “I’ll be waiting, darling.”

[welcometogrouchland]

I understand that literature nerd Jason Todd is kind of overblown in fanon compared to it's actual presence in canon (a few issues during his pre (and post?)crisis Robin tenure that highlight it) BUT consider that I think it's hilarious if the unhinged gun toting criminal has strong opinions on poetry

[yrsonpurpose]

You know, it's not too late to get out of here and fly to the Maldives. Tempting. But I think it's time I stood up for myself.

[sk-yay-sk]

I've gotta say I'm not a huge fan of putting Dragonese into the HTTYD movie franchise. The concept of a full-on dragon language they all share, that can just easily be translated into English, just really doesn't fit imo

I imagine they're a lot more like Orcas

There are universal ways to communicate with strangers of different species, like it's pretty easy to signal things like "i want to fight you" "i want you to leave" "it's dangerous here" "i'm in pain" etc. by just body language and vocalizations- but ways to communicate more complex ideas have to be developed and learned as unique dialects by different groups, especially flocks of dragons consisting of different species.

I imagine a terrible terror flock or a group of Speed Stingers have a lot of an easier time communicating with each other than a Thunderdrum and a whispering death do.

Dragons with their own dialects, cultures, and habits depending on location and group is really cool- I just don't think it should be a direct translation of how humans do these things, such as straight up language or mythologies or such.

[violetmuses]

Complicated - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹

Title: Complicated - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: Armando Aretas meets you for the very first time during Mike Lowrey's Zoom Call.

@peaxhygirl @superstar-t20 @adoresmiles @klssngss @deja-r @hyper-trash-panda @amethyst-loves-bucky @planetblaque @sweettea-and-honeybutter @lovedlover @xjjawsomex @readingisahobby @kindofaintrovert @nelo0wesker @gg-trini @cloveroctobers @twinklestarslight @episodes-ff @nobodygetsza 🏷

Part II ❤️‍🩹

======

2024

As time drifted and choices settled at last, famed Miami Detective Mike Lowrey fell in love with Christine, an experienced physical therapist.

Christine also helped Mike heal throughout the shooting recovery that took place years back.

“All set!” Joining tech genius Dorn in this parked truck, you stepped back from Mike's gorgeous wedding to confirm an important Zoom call now.

“Thank you.” Mike nodded in your direction while expressing gratitude this evening.

“Of course. Now, Dorn and I will get out of here before… You abruptly stopped talking when the signal picked up first.

Shit!

Scoping the view of one guarded cell, red tape locked remote communication between Mike and his estranged son, criminal Armando Aretas.

“This is my wife Christine.” Mike took charge and your nerves calmed down from within.

“It's great to meet you.” Christine faced the screen and offered this kind smile while beaming through one perfect dress.

“Who's that?” Wearing this orange uniform, Armando questioned the sight of more guests after meeting Christine.

“Dorn.” Mike still introduced this member of the AMMO team.

“Not him.” Revealing that slightly accented English once more, Aretas clipped the phrase.

“Oh!” Mike realized the point and turned around, acknowledging your nickname instead. “Rook joined the squad recently.”

“Hi.” Greeting Armando, you stayed cordial for many reasons.

“Hey.” His voice clipped between moments of silence.

“We should go…” Christine reached out to hold your hand and prompted Dorn to begin leaving as well.

Just when you could step outside with Christine, one voice echoed from the computer:

“Wait, hold up.” Aretas caught himself and Mike nearly chuckled before this trade ended.

[snowmoonwrites]

Break Me Softly

Tokyo Debunker fic. Pairing: Kamurai Jin x MC/Reader

Smut, D/S, praise kink, got wholesome by the end, safewords, safe sane and consensual

It was one of the free nights that the academy allowed. Given that it was for a Halloween party that was organized off-campus with the Kamurai family’s money, it was near impossible not to allow students to attend. Aside from the academy it was also open for many more prestigious schools too, of course all participants were subjected to a thorough background check. No reason to put danger onto the general students’ life, or irritate the ghouls.

That’s how you found yourself in a, honestly, quite revealing dress which maybe could be said to resemble some witch outfit… but there was too little fabric for you to actually be sure about your assessment. Not like it mattered. The place is probably going to be reasonably dark to encourage students to dance. Maybe if you planned on bringing anyone back to your bed it would matter what exactly you are wearing. But, given that the only person you would want to bring back won’t be there, even though his family sponsors it… It really didn’t matter.

You have been in a relationship with the King of Ice for enough time to know that if Tohma didn’t physically force him out of his room, you will be left alone the whole night. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t the first it happened. You were a big girl.

That was what you said to yourself while drinking definitely non-alcoholic drinks and dancing with random people. It was quite a nice night. Then, over the shoulder of your dance partner, you saw the annoyed glint of icy-blue eyes drilling a hole into the boy. You didn’t even remember where he was from. Neither were you interested. But this. Oh, that dangerous glint in Kamurai Jin’s eyes. That started a fire in you. And you just loved to play with flames.

You let your hands caress the stranger’s shoulders as you leaned in closer, till their ear, little by little. Your body moved closer to his, pushing your breasts against his chest in your near-nothing clothing. Keeping up the eye-contact with Jin the whole time. In a blink he was next to you. You weren’t sure whether he used his sword, or he just walked really fast. Not that it mattered. In a second you were buried in his chest as he rumbled into your ear.

“We are going to my room.”

As usual, it was far from a request. Not like you cared in that moment. You were on fire, and the murderous gaze that he showed your dance partner only fanned the flames higher. In seconds you were back in his room, the chilly temperature not even registering on your heated skin. He sat on his bed, all nonchalant seeming now that he had you where he, but in reality you both wanted.

“Kneel” came the irrefutable order fueled by the sliver of skin contact left between your hands. 

You immediately dropped to your knees. Waiting for what he has planned for the night.

He looked at you, refraining from touching you for now.

“Was it fun?”

He didn’t have to elaborate. Your little scheme to set the fire of jealousy in him. Your little idea, which worked perfectly. You were actually pretty proud of yourself. It might have shown up on your face as he let out a chuckle.

“Shall I remind you who you belong to?” He didn’t wait for your answer as he reached out one elegant hand to make you look up at him. “How many do you deserve for this? One for each time that you touched him?  Answer honestly.” 

Your breath hitched. It was actually difficult to answer. Not because you didn’t know what he meant, but because you were so focused on Jin, you don’t even know how many times you touched that insignificant boy. You let his command wash over your memories, finding an acceptable answer for you.

“Twenty?”

His smirk got bigger as he let go of your chin.

“Get your upper half on the bed.” 

As you got into position, he lifted your skirt and let his fingers dig into your ass in a massaging manner to avoid causing serious harm. Once he was satisfied he got up from the bed.

“Count them out. Colour?”

“Green,” you breathed out. The second it was out of your mouth, his hand also came down in an arch onto one of  your cheeks. You yelped out, then remembering called out “One.”

With each slap you grew more conscious of the silence aside from your breathing and the sounds of the spanks. Jin didn’t say anything. As if he wasn’t even there. As you let yourself sink into the repetition, the burn, and the pleasure his absence was striking. He was never one to speak much, but he always let his presence known. This was punishment greater than ever.

By the tenth slap you were sobbing. Not from the pain. But from the culminating feelings. You couldn’t let yourself go like this. Stress coiled up in you as he refused to be more present. 

Another slap. “12”

You could feel yourself on the verge of panic. You couldn’t take this like this. As if it was someone else. If this went on you would lose yourself in a drop. But you were aware enough still.

“Yellow,” you cried enough. In the next second everything stopped and Jin sat on the bed in line of sight. Yellow: pause and discuss. He reached his hand towards you, not touching you yet. The ball was in your court now.

You grabbed his hand, letting him pull you onto his lap. You felt his straining erection but knew he wouldn’t do anything until you gave him consent for anything more than cuddling. He gently stroked your hair and back with one hand while the other rested on your hip. He waited until your breathing returned to normal before asking anything. 

“What went wrong?” Never one to mince his words. It was reassuring in itself. He didn’t sound angry. Not even a slight irritation in his words remained from the start of their evening.

“I… You weren’t there,” it was hard to put into words, the absence of him. You tried again, “You weren’t talking. I couldn’t see you. As if it could have been anyone else,” your eyebrows furrowed, you were still frustrated with not being able to convey it perfectly. His petting soothed you when he hummed in acknowledgement.

“Let’s change it up then princess, hmm?” He maneuvered you onto the bed completely, lying down with you. 

“How about I edge you three times for the remaining punishment and then fuck you till you beg me to stop?”

You felt blood rush two-ways in your body. Up to your cheeks at the idea, and southwards to reignite the sundering fire. You nodded your head silently.

“I need words baby.”

“Yes, sounds good. But, can you kiss me first?” You felt undeniably shy, hell he just spanked you, you were in the middle of talking about him driving you close to insanity with his magical hands and tongue and glorious dick. And here you are, shy about asking him for an innocent kiss.

“Good girl,” he praised you as he closed the gap between your lips. You let yourself melt into the kiss and enjoy the fluttering you felt at his praise. He knew he could make you putty in his hands with just a few praises. And he was right, you were so weak for them when they came out of his mouth.

The mouth that started to wander downwards, peppering kisses onto your neck while his hands unceremoniously ripped your dress from your body.

“HEY! I liked that dress,” you complained playfully.

“No, you didn’t. I’ll buy you better ones,” he answered nonchalantly before biting one of your nipples, making you yelp back the retort that you would have made just to be difficult. He smirked up at you, looking halfway to ridiculous with your nipple still in his mouth. His hand found your other breast and started playing with it just the way you liked it.

He alternated between gentle fondling and tweaking your nipple while he worked the other with his skillful mouth and tongue. You let out your voice to encourage his ministrations, knowing no one would hear you outside the room. One of your hands buried itself into his silky locks, pulling him as close as possible.

As his mouth traveled down, your flush reached towards him as well, not just your cheeks, down until your chest you had flushed due to his attention. When he reached his goal you twisted your free hand into the sheets. Oh how he knew just what to do to make you lose your mind.

He pulled down your panties, as if they had personally offended him. Immediately after he moved your leg to have more space. As he licked you in a long stripe you whined. This much stimuli, while feeling good, was nowhere near enough while in his bed. He chuckled at you, then flicked your clit before sucking on it. He alternated between fucking you on his tongue and playing with your clit until you were nearly sobbing with pleasure. But you knew it will get so much better and worse.

Just as you were close to reaching your peak. As your breathing became incredibly fast and moans left your mouth unrestrained.

“Jin… I’m close.”

You warned. And all touch ceased. You were left on the verge. Flexing your thighs to feel a little bit of relief, unsuccessfully. 

“One down. 2 more to go dear. Colour?” He caressed your cheek to get your attention.

“Green.” You smiled up at him. Even while being punished, like this you could never forget the love you hold for this man. And he never let you forget that he loves you too, you could always feel it in his gentle caresses like now, that let you calm down before he once again put an onslaught of pleasure onto you.

He pecked your lips as his fingers moved downwards. His mouth once again found your nipple while his fingers caressed you at first. His thumb circled your clit before one elegant, long finger got inserted into you. He pumped it experimentally a few times before adding another.

“So good for me,” he praised you while picking up the pace of his fingers. He crooked them just enough to hit your G spot in every inward thrust. When he also resumed playing with your clit, you knew this would not take long to get on the edge again. And you were right, just a few minutes later, or were they seconds, you grabbed his head to pull him up towards you. Just by a glance at you, he knew you were close again.

He once again stopped playing with you, but his fingers remained inside you, keeping you open. You whined and tried to move your hips to gain even the slightest friction that might send you over the edge. His other hand pinned you down, and you whined in frustration.

“You are doing great. One more and I will gladly fuck you until you come again and again,” he rasped into your ear, thrusting his clothed cock against your thighs once to let you know how much he wants you. He knew what his words can do to you. Even the slightest praise could make you hot and bothered for him.

And thus, once again, the second you calmed down a little, his fingers started moving in you again. His tongue started playing with your clit, intent on driving you as fast to your peak as possible,  just to stop before it once again. Thankfully, it was the last one. As you stopped before your peak again, you thought you were close to losing your sanity. You might have just pounced on Jin and rode him till he couldn’t cum more. Maybe tie his hands up too, while you were at it. Maybe another time, you thought as he stripped. As he positioned himself above you, you caressed him, showing your appreciation, your love. He kissed your palm as he slowly entered you, making sure not to overwhelm you at first.

When he sheathed himself fully into you he still waited for you to nudge him. He knew well he wasn’t one of the smallest guys, and that was also true to his nether regions. While you would sometimes enjoy the slight pain, today he instinctively knew it wasn’t one of those nights. Not after the misery he caused you accidentally.

When you had enough of waiting, you lifted your hips to thrust back into him. He immediately started thrusting into you slowly. So slowly it could have been described as torture. You whined at him and let your nails leave marks of your annoyance on his back.

“Want more?” He thrusted in with a bit more power.

“Please.”

“With pleasure,” he whispered to you as he picked up the pace.

You loved him like this, when he was close to losing his composure to pleasure, as he was thrusting into you, pulling you both under a wave of indescribable feeling. Verging on the line of love and pleasure. As he found your sweet spot again and pulled you closer and closer to the edge. When he reached down and started playing with your clit again, you gasped even louder than so far.

“Jin… I’m close… Can I?” You asked in between gasps. 

“Yeah, cum for me.” He deliberately aimed at your weak spots, urging you to fall over the edge.

With one last twist of his hips and a stronger stimulus to your clit your back arched as the orgasm rushed through you. Your cunt spasmed around him as he thrusted into you faster, fucking you through your orgasm.

“That’s my good girl.” You looked up at him, slightly oversensitive. He was close, you knew from the furrow of his brows as he tried to hold out a little more. You whined at his praise. You pulled him impossibly closer with your legs. Pulling him down in a kiss in the meanwhile.

“Cum in me, please,” you whispered into the kiss. Loud enough for him to hear over your mingled breaths.

“Fuck, you are gonna be the death of me baby,” he grunted as he pistoned into you, chasing his orgasm in your sensitive body. Pulling you close by your hips as he thrust one last time and let himself go in you. He was a sight in his orgasm. As his lips gaped just a tiny bit in a soft moan, as his eyes closed in pleasure. You were sure you could find no one who was more beautiful in this moment, not like you would go and search for someone else, when you were in his bed. You weren’t completely stupid.

When he came down his high he pulled out of you, making you groan softly from his absence. He kissed you before starting to get up.

“Good girl. Wait for me. I’m bringing a towel.” You nuzzled into his hand that caressed you, like a satisfied cat.

He came back promptly, with a damp towel in one of his hands, and a bottle of water in the other. He gently toweled you down before doing the same to himself. Then he gathered you in his arms, making you slowly gulp down mouthfuls of water. When you moved your head away from the bottle, nuzzling into his chest, he drank the remaining water before laying down and cuddling with you. Gently caressing you, he murmured praises to you.

“You did so great today. My good girl.” He kissed your forehead, your cheek, your lips with each praise. You sighed, content after the evening. Humming, you lifted your head to bring him into a kiss. A different one from the ones before, not passionate now, but loving and sleepy. The one people share just out of love, to express their feelings.

As you got comfortable against him, sleepiness came fast. Your eyelids became heavier with each passing second. Content, satisfied, happy, you let yourself murmur against his skin. 

“I love you Jin.”

“I love you too,” he murmured back, kissing your lips one last time. “Go to sleep.” He pulled you even closer, acting as your heater in the admittedly cold temperature of his dorm under the blankets.

That’s how you fell asleep that day. Held in his arms, warm, and loved.

[hotsodax]

Spent like 5 hours yesterday with putting english subtitles on this swedish video from 2006 about MCR and the emo subculture

[sparkleresthold]

A Vosian princeling and Tarn's tiniest miner (they're best bros)

Some info about them:

-Starscream used to be a bratty royal from Vos, while his older sister Slipstream was the City's Commander. He lived a life of privilege and his main concerns were beating his own speed records and hanging out with Skyfire.

-When the Autobots unleashed the war throughout Cybertron, Vos fell quickly. Perhaps too quickly. Rumors of an inside job spread shortly after. Slipstream mysteriously disappeared when the fighting was at its worst, and Starscream became separated from his brothers amidst the chaos in the city.

-Star's memory files of whatever happened afterwards were corrupted. Next thing he knew, he was being pulled out of a pile of rubble by Soundwave and Shockwave. The life he had known before was reduced to ashes, along with Vos itself and he had the Autobots to thank for that. He joined the Cons right away, seeking revenge.

-D-16's origins are a complete mystery. Miners are mass-produced and have massive, bulky frames. They don't have a "sparkling" phase or are known to reproduce. Yet, Soundwave found him in drilling away in an abandoned mine while scavenging for Energon.

-As Soundwave has the habit of picking up strays, of course he dragged him back to base.

-Starscream's first real "mission" as a Decepticon was taking care of D-16, which he found humiliating. Soon enough tho, he became overprotective of the younger mech. He reminded him of his lost brothers.

[ask-kimerako-therapycarpool]

you went insane, hallucinating that innocent people were Mercury and DK when they were not and were not in the mental space to recognize that there's only one DK and Mercury, not hundreds, and they are not in your universe. again... there was mind control. you are not fully responsible. you were treated as a tool. and that all went haywire. even if you really killed them personally as yourself with no one else interfering... you're still you. you've done what you've done. what will you do next?

[TKO grumbles something indistinct the anons can't quite make out.]

Please. After what me and KO went through so far today? We should at least break from the hellhole that's still called "therapy" once this horrible day is over...

[bedforddanes75]

truly one of the most beautiful pictures of him

[localsamalicer]

Average Sam and Alice shenanigans

[subliminalbo]

The Pleasure Method

This is a continuation of Return to Office

It was simply dumb luck that Futurum had stumbled upon their newest tech. The Conditioning Initiative was a success, but its limitations were beginning to show. If the goal was to create the perfect workplace free from distractions or inefficiencies, they needed their employees to embrace the Initiative in every phase of their lives. This was how R&D shifted to The Pleasure Method.

The Pleasure Method was reversed engineered from hardware discovered in the basement of a sorority house near the campus of Carpenter State University. The program was a sophisticated set of stimulants delivered through a pair of noise canceling headphones and a VR headset. Futurum recovered a treasure trove of hypnotic audio and video files from a hard drive in the basement, but the files themselves weren't fundamentally different from what Futurum had achieved with The Conditioning Initiative. What really fascinated researchers were the testimonies culled from members of that sorority.

The power of sexual stimulation in subverting a subject's will had been documented in the past, but Futurum's interest was in testing its absolute limits. In their deprogramming, the sorority sisters who were rescued from the Alphas house recalled being hypnotized and fucked senselessly. Deprived of sight and sound from the headphones and visor, there was nothing left to focus on but the feeling of hands on flesh, teeth grazing nipples, tongues rolling along clits, and slick, thick silicone cocks penetrating as deep as they could go. The sorority sisters were programmed to desire only this feeling, and after several hours of unceasing stimulation they would do everything in their waking minds to feel that level of pleasure again. They would even obey.

Futurum built their own program from the Alphas' testimonies. The Pleasure Method was a more sophisticated apparatus than the crude setup recovered in the Alphas basement. R&D had long rooms filled with rows of examination chairs where subjects were strapped in and treated to days—not simply hours, but days—worth of sexual stimulation. Mechanical arms loomed above every chair in these R&D rooms. The whole area was called a Pleasure Station. The arms were bolted to the ceiling and were fitted with long, motorized silicone rods for vaginal or anal penetration. Regular electric shocks were delivered through a subject's nipples to maximize the body's capacity for pleasure.

All of this was conducted under deep hypnosis. Audio files droned reinforcing messages of submission in a subject's ears while a visor lowered over the eyes ensured that the subject remained entranced with synchronized light displays. Subjects were fed intravenously so that they could remain under The Pleasure Method for days.

The end results were a monumental step forward from the simple subliminal messaging of the first phase of The Conditioning Initiative. The Pleasure Method had been one hundred percent successful in shaping Futurum employees into re-writable worker drones.

The applications were endless. The efficiency crisis that had plagued workplaces since the pandemic wouldn't just be solved, Futurum could guarantee that no energy would ever be wasted in an office or a factory or a boardroom ever again. The future of work was mental conditioning, and the key was sexual pleasure.

You would be hard pressed to find a better example of this than No. 14. Formerly known as Shelby Irving, No. 14 was a graduate student at Carpenter State University who had worked on the initial stages of The Conditioning Initiative as part of a summer job program. When No. 14 returned the following year, she dutifully submitted herself for processing at a Pleasure Station. Though technically still a student at CSU, No. 14 accepted a full time job as a researcher in Futurum R&D, assisting in the processing of new subjects. Despite balancing two full time jobs, the new perspective afforded to No. 14 by her conditioning made her exceedingly efficient and she felt no difficulty in transitioning between both worlds every day.

Sometimes No. 14's worlds would collide, like when she was tasked with processing a new recruit who studied in the same rhetoric program at the school. On Shelby's recommendation, Josie had applied for the summer work program. By the time she stood naked before a Pleasure Station, she had undergone hypnotic conditioning through Futurum's new on-boarding program. That conditioning began to slip when Josie was strapped into the chair and No. 14 inserted the IV into her arm.

"Shelby?" Josie squeaked. She awoke to the sound of a dozen subjects undergoing their own processing. The subjects' thoughtless moans filled her ears like a ghoulish chant.

It wasn't uncommon for a subject's conditioning to fail during preparation. This only proved the need for a more permanent solution to The Conditioning Initiative.

"Shelby, please!" Josie begged, but there was no recognition in No. 14's eyes. "Oh, god!" she cried as the mechanical arm dropped down from the ceiling. The longest dildo she had seen in her life was just inches from her pussy. "What is that?"

"It is advisable that you remain relaxed through the preparation process," No. 14 instructed. As her glassy eyes floated from the terrified expression on Josie's face to the mechanical arm in front of her, they lingered on Josie's soft, round tits jiggling with each sob. A subtle, nearly imperceptible twitch of No. 14's eye displayed a potential hiccup in The Pleasure Method: that subjects could be molded and trained, but an increased desire for sexual satisfaction could take them at any minute. This time, however, the desire passed, and No. 14 continued with her programmed duties.

"Subjects find the pleasure distributor to be extremely arousing," No. 14 explained. "It will be a pleasant experience for you."

"Fuck you, Shelby!" Josie cried. She pulled hard at her restraints, but she couldn't shake the straps free.

When Josie knew that she couldn't find her way out, she tried to appeal to the friend that she knew from school.

"Shelby, please," she pleaded again. "You have to fight this! Whatever they've done to you. I know you're in there. I know you're still you."

But No. 14 was unmoved by Josie's pleas. She slipped the noise cancelling headphones over her ears and lowered the visor plate over her eyes, a neon glow illuminating along the rim of the visor as the program took effect. Josie released a sharp, surprised gasp when the pleasure distributor entered her pussy. It started with slow thrusts and picked up speed as her pussy responded with more lubrication.

Josie's pleas quickly softened until there was nothing left but a hungry moan that was indistinguishable from the rest of the noise in the R&D room, Josie's voice becoming another part of the chant.

No. 14 was practically dripping as she watched Josie become No. 500. With that same little twitch of the eye, she came. It washed over her so silently that an observer would never know the level of pleasure firing off all over No. 14's body.

If No. 14 had a thought left in her head, it may have been that she fucking loved this job.

[alexandraisyes]

Hey guys, here's a reminder that if queer people are allowed to reclaim slurs against them and POC people are allowed to reclaim slurs about them then so are people with ASPD.

We are allowed to reclaim the terms sociopath and psychopath because we are the people those terms are targeted against. If you don't have ASPD? You don't get to have an opinion.

Everyone I've met and conversed with who also had ASPD are comfortable with the terms sociopath and psychopath being used to describe clinical ASPD.

Saying that we are not allowed to reclaim the term because you personally don't agree with it? Good for you, but you're not the one being stigmatized against. You don't get to have an opinion about this because you are not the one being affected by it. Stop being offended for other people who are trying to make the world a kinder place for themselves.

Empowerment and Ownership: Reclaiming a term can be a way for individuals to take control of a label that has been used to stigmatize or dehumanize them. By owning the term, they can redefine it on their own terms, reducing its power to harm.

Challenging Stigma: The terms "sociopath" and "psychopath" are often used in a derogatory manner and can contribute to the stigma around mental health disorders. Reclaiming these words can be a way to challenge and change the narrative, promoting a more accurate and compassionate understanding of ASPD.

Creating Community: Reclaiming a term can foster a sense of solidarity and community among those who share similar experiences. It can help individuals with ASPD connect with each other and advocate for their needs and rights.

Promoting Awareness and Understanding: By reclaiming and redefining these terms, people with ASPD can raise awareness about the disorder and its complexities. This can lead to greater empathy and understanding from the public and professionals.

Rejecting Misuse: Reclaiming terms can be a way to reject the misuse of these words in ways that are harmful or incorrect. It can help ensure that the terms are used in a manner that is respectful and informed.

Affirming Identity: For some, reclaiming these terms may be a way to affirm their identity and experiences. It can be a way to express pride in who they are, despite societal prejudices.

If POC and LGBTQ+ people get to reclaim terms used to stigmatize them then so do we. Denying us of that because you don't personally agree with it is rude, and calloused, and I'm going to fucking say it, borderline ableist. These words are not for you, they are for us.

And I choose to have pride in who I am instead of letting people ridicule and demonize me for it. I'm a clinical sociopath, I have ASPD, and people who don't have ASPD are going to have to fucking accept that because they are not me and they do not get a say in this.

[pseudophan]

the name poll you reblogged made me wonder, how is your name pronounced?

see this is a funny one because while i have lots of opinions on the spelling i very much consider any way you could possibly pronounce nora to be correct. like, however you would pronounce it in your language is correct you can call me that that is absolutely my name. i remember when i signed up for school in england they asked for my name and because i was shy as hell my mum answered and said nora with a norwegian pronunciation and immediately all my shyness evaporated to say it the english way because oh my god lets not overcomplicate it here i'm not correcting people on this every day i will lose my mind

but to actually answer your question i guess it's pronounced noor-ah, rolling the r

[violetmuses]

Crest - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹

Title: Crest - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Paring: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: You meet Armando Aretas for the very first time.

Tag List: @yassbishimvintage @nobodygetsza @peaxhygirl @superstar-t20 @adoresmiles @klssngss @deja-r @hyper-trash-panda @amethyst-loves-bucky @planetblaque @sweettea-and-honeybutter @lovedlover @xjjawsomex @readingisahobby @kindofaintrovert @nelo0wesker 🏷

======

2024

While previous criminal Armando Aretas escaped law enforcement, hiding for survival kept moving along until life circled right back to Miami, Florida.

Miracles still pulled through when Armando even booked this flight without facing drama. One wrong move could lock grounding handcuffs.

When Aretas finally boarded this red-eye plane and drifted by shadows, someone took the window seat.

Securing luggage overhead, you sat down without realizing who joined this row as well.

Exhaustion should've helped during this late hour, but Armando quietly noticed your presence.

As your body shaped this hopefully comfortable outfit, you've styled your hair and held this “new” manicure, clearly planning something while traveling to the vibrant lanes of South Beach.

You look so pretty. Armando thinks. Butterflies almost swarmed within like the movies.

Ignoring various devices as others welcomed that flight, you take out this book and start reading from one of the bookmarked pages.

Even your focus caught his intrigue, but Armando moved on, trying to sleep until further notice.

_____

Several hours later, you gently nudged that random hoodie stranger when other passengers gave enough room for everyone else to leave.

“Sorry, but we need to go.” You whispered to avoid startling this guy.

“Oh, shit, my bad.” Slightly accented English rasped near your direction when Armando pulled away from slumber.

Stepping near the aisle for your exit, Aretas tried waking up even more to face the upcoming terminal hustle. Drifting again offered freedom.

“Thanks.” With luggage prepped, you stood in front of Armando and bid farewell near the crew, heading down this tunnel while greeting Miami.

“You're welcome.” Armando nodded without smiling to avoid those rattled butterflies.

_____

Finally standing in that large-scale airport terminal, you quickly noticed that your window seat partner looked confused.

He's wearing sunglasses and took off that hoodie, wearing this black tank top despite the heat that raged outdoors.

“Damn.” Armando gritted his teeth upon realization.

“What's wrong?” You questioned.

“My ride’s not here yet.” Aretas nearly frowned at this point. “I'm waiting for somebody.”

“Don't worry. Traffic’s crazy often.” You tried helping again “What car are you looking for?”

“911 Turbo.” Aretas stepped closer and pointed toward his bargained cell phone.

“The Porsche?” You smiled.

“Yeah.” Armando nearly chuckles as your face keeps lighting up.

“Have fun.” You turned in the opposite direction this time as one vehicle service car pulled up and brought your path elsewhere.

And just like that, you disappeared to leave Aretas by himself.

_____

“Sorry I'm late, man.” Lowrey drove the classic Porsche and rolled toward one curb as Armando joined this passenger seat. “Traffic was crazy.”

“It's okay” Aretas wouldn't argue, especially in public.

“How was your flight?” Lowrey asked.

“Good. I'm still tired, though.” Aretas offered his truth.

“We'll be at the house soon. Let's get out of here first.” Mike steered away, prepared for this new role.

****

Mike's wife Christine, an experienced physical therapist, stood on this porch when the car arrived.

“Hello.” Welcoming both men into the house, Christine smiled once more.

“He's home, babe.” Mike gestured near Christine and Armando.

______

“I'm glad.” Christine nearly giggled, but waves as Armando planned to rest.

After taking this much-needed shower, very few belongings rounded the pleasant space when Aretas organized essentials for himself.

“You kept the shirt.” Mike chuckled back in the kitchen.

“Oh…” Aretas glanced down. Lowrey realized that Armando wore that Bud Light t-shirt from their previous McGrath mission.

“What happened? I missed a lot.” Christine sat down at this table.

“We found some clothes while running from authorities.” Mike rolled both eyes while making his plate.

“These random people camped with shotguns and we almost died.” Armando pulled details for once. “Burnett wouldn't stop talking.”

“Oh, no!” Christine almost gasped this time around.

“Don't stress out.” Mike still knew better. “Let's talk about something else.”

“Good point.” Christine understood more often than not. “Did anything special happen on your flight, Armando?”

“Not really. I slept most of the time.” Aretas continued to speak.

“Fair enough.” Christine nodded as peace settled in the home.

*****

By the early afternoon, Armando started checking this guest bedroom window.

“What's going on?” Both Mike and Christine joined Aretas.

“Somebody's moving in.” Armando described one moment as this U-HAUL truck parked across the street.

“You think something’s wrong?” Mike glanced near Armando just in case.

“No. Just curious.” Aretas stepped back from the window and returned downstairs to think.

Regardless, Mike and Christine would still follow Aretas.

_______

With each passing second, curiosity nagged more and more. “I'll be right back.” Aretas stood from this patio chair after sitting outdoors with Mike.

“Ay, where you going?” Mike arched his brow, definitely puzzled.

Ignoring Mike once again, Aretas guided the walk right back around and located that new driveway. Even music echoed inside this house.

Still taking this chance, Armando finally rang this doorbell.

Before long, the music would stop playing moments later.

When the door opened, Aretas nearly froze this time.

“Hi.” You smiled at him.

“Hey.” Revealing his slightly accented English once more, Aretas knew that butterflies swarmed as this return.

“What's your name?” You offered this question and didn't fear possibilities.

“Armando.” Aretas couldn't hide the truth anymore because Mike waited somewhere right now.

“I knew it. Recognized you on the plane, but I didn't want to frighten everybody.” You cleared your throat and grounded reality.

For quite some time, headlines and rumors scattered news about this dangerous man.

“I've cleared my name and Mike Lowrey set me up with the police department. You don't have to be scared anymore.” Armando explained his new opportunity.

“How can I trust you?” You crossed both arms while standing on the porch.

“I won't hurt you, okay? We live right across the street.” Aretas pointed backward. “I'm staying with Lowrey and his wife now.”

“Hold on. Is Detective Lowrey really your father? I keep hearing things.” For a moment, you glanced around just in case.

“Yeah.” Armando revealed.

After facing questions or encountering different secrets over time, Detective Mike Lowrey would take responsibility as Armando's biological father.

“Fine.” You dropped the subject.

“I saw that U-HAUL truck earlier.” Aretas refused more personal questions. “Do you still need help?”

“No thank you.” You welcomed the gesture, but declined. “I just took a break while unpacking and ordered some food.”

“Cool, but why travel by plane if you moved here?” Armando squinted.

“I flew with my luggage to avoid some long road trip.” You nearly rolled both eyes. Driving would've prolonged so much this time around.

Just before Armando could ask you more questions, another voice called out.

“Yo, what are you doing?” Detective Mike Lowrey corrected Aretas.

“We're talking.” Armando leveled words as he noticed his estranged father.

“I'm so sorry. Excuse us.” Lowrey took charge despite apologizing to you.

“Of course.” You nodded.

Given no other option, you watch Armando and Mike leave your house.

_____

“Listen to me.” Back home, Mike whispered in this hall. “Law enforcement cleared your name, but I'll be damned if we start trouble again because you bother people.”

“She was on my flight last night.” Mentioning you at last, Armando defended himself.

“Let me get this straight: one girl you saw on the plane is our new neighbor?” Mike still questioned your place across the street.

“Yes.” Aretas stopped debating your spot and knew that Christine might hear this argument.

Seconds later, Mike's phone started ringing out of nowhere.

“Shit!” Lowrey cringed toward the caller ID for once.

“What's up?” All jokes aside, Armando seemed puzzled and concerned.

“I forgot that Marcus would visit for dinner tonight.” Mike revealed the truth.

Fuck! Aretas immediately casted both eyes toward the ceiling and prepared himself.

_____

“Marcus, don't start crying, all right?” Mike welcomed his best friend Marcus Burnett into the house.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Marcus scrunched his face behind glasses. “I'm just having dinner with you and Christine. What's going on?”

“Turn the corner.” Mike walked toward that living room with Marcus.

“Who's sitting on your couch, man?” Frustrated, Marcus couldn't understand the point yet.

Shutting down this game console, Armando stood from the couch.

“Ah, shit! Why didn't you tell me, Mike?” Burnett finally realized everything. “Nephew’s back!”

“Don't hug Armando, Marcus.” Mike gently warned his brother again.

“All right. Let's eat. ” Settled, Marcus calmed down his recovered heart and joined dinner.

******

The next day, you wake up hearing that doorbell first. Sunlight just illuminated this morning.

Finally pulling yourself together, you headed downstairs and checked the new RING Camera.

Two figures waited on the porch.

“Hi.” You welcomed Armando Aretas and Christine Lowrey into your home.

“Sorry for being so early.” Christine arrived with meals. “We had leftovers for dinner and I even plated breakfast for you.”

“Thank you so much.” You accepted generosity and led Christine towards the kitchen.

Armando trailed in silence as you and Christine organized items.

“Mike's at the police station, but we wanted to apologize for what happened last night.” Christine knew the drama on your porch.

“I appreciate it.” You smiled and felt thankful once more.

“Of course. I'll give you two privacy.” Christine gestured near you and Armando, stepping back outside.

_______

“Sorry. Marcus showed up last night.” Armando nearly scoffed.

“Lowrey's partner?” You questioned placements just to be sure.

“He's dramatic.” Aretas offered the truth regardless.

“That's funny.” You laughed. “Did you take the day off or something?”

“Yeah.” Armando nodded. “It'd be dumb to ignore what happened last night.”

“Is everything okay?” You somehow checked on this stranger.

“We're good. Don't worry.” Armando only grinned for a second and planned to leave.

“All right. Thanks for the food.” Your voice expressed gratitude for so many reasons.

“You're welcome.” Regrettably, Armando walked away, but still respects limitations.

****

Ever since Christine stopped by your house with meals, Armando visited you on a regular basis.

“Finally left the house?” You noticed Aretas leaving this coffee shop.

“Very funny. What are you doing?” Wearing sunglasses on top of his short hair, Aretas flirted this time.

“Nothing.” You've held another book to read this morning.

“See you later.” Glancing over his shoulder, Armando winked toward you and left.

No longer playing around, you'll exchange phone numbers tonight.