#that's practically the only thing you CAN do with it; i suppose you can use it to get akechi's head out of his ass wrt not being unique

[maive-the-sheep]

Teach a man to fish only works if you encourage that for all.

Is your teachings free for all, disability accesible, do all your jobs have disability accessible including small things like not having fluorescents (can make certain things worse) or allow accomodations like wearing shades?

Is mental health free and medical?

Is training for everything free?

Does going to university not just free, but rather give you money so poor people aren't forced to go slower?

Are classes to teach people to repair a car and other stuff readily available?

Is public transportation free for all these teachings?

How far does it go?

Cause if it doesn't go all the way for everyone (like not the best disability or for poor people)

Then it isn't teaching a man to fish.

Some attribute the saying to the bible, it's not in the bible which is more about hating rich people.

Some attribute it to a chinese philosopher...who never said it.

Some attribute it to other groups...who were about helping in the moment and teaching.

It really is from a writer in the novel, mrs dymond with full saying.

"He certainly doesn't practice his percepts, but i suppose the Patron meant that if you give a man a fish he is hungry again in an hour. If you teach him to catch a fish you do him a good turn. But these very elementary principles are apt to clash with the leisure of the cultivated classes"

Meaning...the rich will use base level beliefs on things as an excuse to not actually help. As a way to focus on making people dependent on them. For their insurance. For their money from jobs. For medical. For family. So that they can't actually "learn to fish" because they don't have time.

So it outright leans even more to livable standard even.

But people don't like giving true context. They just like going for whatever is easiest short term for them no matter if it hurts them later. No matter if what they are quoting is actually against their actions.

Well this sure hit me like a ton of bricks

[hvnishere]

the brain is not against you. ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

the sole purpose of the brain, in my eyes, is to keep the body alive. before knowing the law, we were living on autopilot—we let life happen to us because we didn't know about the law or shifting. we needed our brain to help guide us through life and we needed to cling onto patterns of the past to avoid making the same mistakes in the future. we were confided to the borders and regulations of how the brain works—to change ourselves we must heal, do shadow work, go to therapy and maybe then we can be better or simply just something different.

once you learn about the law and put it into practice, you realize that you don't need this anymore—you don't need the brain to help you navigate anymore because you've been the one holding the reins. anything you believe to be true becomes true. a glorious fact to discover, but what about the brain? what is it supposed to do now?

see the brain is like an overprotective parent whose kid (you) is going off to college and becoming an independent adult. the worrying never leaves and to the child it can feel overbearing—why do they worry so much when i know i have this? the thing is to the brain, much like those parents, you'll always be it's baby. it's essentially going through empty nest syndrome. that doesn't make the brain a bad thing, in fact, it just wants to help you out.

learn to coexist. it's not your enemy. if you view the brain as an entity working against you, you will always fight it. humanize it. let it freak out, it's all love. when you decide you're in your desired reality, it might get scared—of course it's freaking out, it's logical and manifesting/shifting isn't logical to it.

whenever the brain freaks out, pause and realize what's happening. it's just scared. you are not the brain and the brain is not you. this separation is scary to it but it doesn't have to be scary for you. tell the brain that it’s okay and remind yourself that you are not it. the thoughts it creates are there to protect you because you are stepping through a door that's unknown to it. the brain will never be aware of different realities because that's your job as you are pure consciousness. do not forget your job and your power. i cannot stress how important it is to identify fully with your power as consciousness, not the brain or body. it isn't necessary but it helps a lot—god wouldn't freak out so why are you?

remind yourself that you are the power and that the power is within you. contemplate this often until it sinks in fully. wake up and remind yourself that you are consciousness in a human body, not a human hoping to be heard by some outside source. remove your ego from the situation and see it as god, not a human. reclaim your rightful place and let the brain do it's thing. live with it, not against it. nurture and love it because it loves you, maybe more than you think.

if you only take one thing away from this post let it be this: you and the brain are two different entities and you’ve always had control—the only difference is now you know you do.

[luka-labrathor]

Dear jayvik ff writers,

I love you but please, I'm begging you, learn the difference between nominative and vocative in the language Viktor is supposed to be native in. Cause if the language is Czech, no matter how many Czechs you've talked to to make his lines right, you'll make mistakes.

So far I haven't read any English fic that used nominative for Viktor's nicknames. And I've read a lot of them. So here's a quick guide:

Nominative is what someone/thing is called. Vocative is what you call someone/thing.

English, Spanish, German, French and many more don't use vocative. Latin, Greek, Polish (wołacz), Czech, Ukrainian etc. do use it.

Nominative is used when you talk about someone/thing (you use it only as the subject in sentences but that's an unimportant detail rn). Vocative is for talking to someone/thing.

In practice: Let's say Viktor calls Jayce "lásko" (love). The correct use looks like this:

"I think you stink, lásko (voc)," said Viktor. His láska (nom) stank.

– "But why even bother? My Viktor doesn't actually speak Czech, he just uses one or two words as pet names! It's not like the people around him know what he's saying! They would probably get confused if they heard him suddenly change the final suffix."

Sure, it makes sense that Viktor would probably not insist on using Czech grammatical cases correctly while communicating in English. But there are 2 possible situations your Viktor could be in:

A) The Canon Adjacent Approach: Viktor is an immigrant or lives in a Czech enclave. He learnt Czech from his core family but actually studied in the majority language of Zaun/Piltover/USA. People like this sometimes lose their accent in the majority language but we know it's not his case because we can hear his Russian accent in the game and his Czech-ish-RAF-pilot-ish accent in the series. He knows Czech but he probably never used it to write an essay.

B) The International Student Approach: Viktor is an exchange student or he moved to Piltover/USA after graduating a Czech highschool. He knows Czech very well. He wrote a lot of essays in Czech.

The A-Viktor might have an excuse for using Czech words incorrectly or not really minding the misuse of vocative (for ex. like here: "This is my lásko," said Viktor). He knows that English speakers don't understand the difference between nom. and voc. so he uses a vocative form of his nicknames as if they were English words (pl. láskos, poss. lásko's). This usage would probably make a B-Viktor's ears bleed.

B-Viktor doesn't have to think about it when he uses a Czech word. He just uses whatever he'd use in Czech (and maybe if he'd need an other case than nominative or vocative he'd just use nominative cause that's the "default" case in dictionaries). I'm still kinda split on whether he wouldn't actually use only nominative when talking to/about people cause again, it's the "default" case and he would avoid people treating a voc. form like a nom. one. But if he actually tried and at one point explained to his close ones that "láska" is actually the word he's using, just in the vocative form (or just sent them this post, some jayvik fics can be very meta-fictional), he could be using voc. and nom. (lásko and láska) more or less as he'd use it in Czech.

Apart from that, if your POV is Viktor's, you need to use Czech correctly in your indirect speech or I'll come to your house with torches and pitchforks. If Viktor is thinking Jayce was my [Czech pet name], my dearest [Czech pet name], you need to use nominative for the pet name no matter what. One exception is if your Viktor actually doesn't know any Czech and only cosplays as a Czech person cause he loves our stinky cheese from Loštice. Then and only then I can accept him using nominative and vocative indistinguishably.

S láskou,

Your čtenář

P. S.: Use whatever words you want, like, your fic will read like 10 Czech people in all it's eternal lifetime on ao3 so don't overthink it. I'm overthinking it cause I don't have a life separate from jayvik.

[changingplumbob]

First Round - Day five (Chloe group)

The Chloe group are lucky last, meaning they've had some extra time to get to know each other before this. Tensions still exist though as some personalities clash.

Callie: This is so exciting! This place looks amazing

Apolline: I think it needs work. A lot of work

Billie: I suppose you're used to a higher standard?

Elise: It's a lot nicer than some places I've been let me tell you

Hana: I hope we get some free time to paint. At the moment the schedule seems pretty tight

Lara: We have some free time now don't we?

Callie: Yeah but we should be bonding and getting to know each other

Apolline: Why would we want that

Billie: Maybe you don't understand Callie but this is meant to be a competition

Lara: Why would you say that? We don't need to kill the vibe

Hana: Maybe not all of us feel as relaxed about the situation as you are Lara

Elise: You know what's relaxing? The onsen in Mt Komorebi

Hana: I think I'm going to go unpack

Elise: I'll come with, I've got the room beside yours

...

Callie: I know it's a competition but it doesn't mean we can't be friends... does it?

Billie: I didn't mean to sound quite that harsh

Apolline: *scoffs* You really want to befriend 29 woman chasing the same person you are?

Lara: You make it sound so cut throat Apolline. Maybe not everyone thinks the way you do. We should try and be friendly

Hana: Now where do you suppose the remote would be?

Hana decided that she didn't want to be overly social that morning and instead chose to watch some sports on TV after unpacking.

Apolline: I can be friendly! I love your... green?

Lara: *smiling* See now Polly, we're getting along great

Apolline: *seething at being called Polly*

Elise: So what did I miss

Callie: Nothing much. Can you tell us about one of your adventures?

Billie: Yes! I'd love to hear more of your travels

At lunch Deanna appeared to say hello to everyone and see how they were settling in.

Deanna: Are you doing okay?

Apolline: Yes. Deanna you look tres jolie in that shirt

Deanna: *smiling* Thanks. But really is it going okay

Hana: Things are bound to be awkward while we adjust right

Lara: Some things are bumpy but we're getting through it

Hana: I said that

Lara: I'm just trying to make conversation

Callie: The rooms are lovely

Billie: And the views are so inspiring

Elise: I love it here but I do miss home

Apolline: Deanna you must come visit Champs Le Sims, you as well Hana

Hana: I've heard the galleries there are impressive

Billie: I'd love to see them to

The rest of lunch is filled with jokes and laughter. Despite initial clashes these contestants do seem to want to understand each other.

Lara (voiceover): Things may have got tense this morning but it's nothing I can't handle. You don't get to be a party animal without learning how to handle an awkward situation. Apolline seems like she likes us, but it also feels like maybe she's liking us against her better judgement? I don't know. I decided to polish my charisma today, that way I can help diffuse any other arguments that might pop up

Elise (voiceover): It was a lot of fun talking about my travels with the others. Apolline didn't seem too impressed by the places I chose to visit but I think she respects my determination. There was an awkward moment with Apolline and Callie for sure though, and Billie. I think they just need to size each other up and move forward, eyes on the prize. I chose to practice video gaming for skill time, it was good to unwind

Callie (voiceover): So maybe I was a little bit naive thinking everyone would want to make friends. I just thought there's only so many people who do these kind of things, who else would best know what we're going through than a fellow competitor? At least Lara seems welcoming, and hey maybe the others just need to get to know me. I picked charisma to work on for the afternoon, I could do with less social slip ups

Hana (voiceover): I tried to tell myself not to be annoyed at Lara just because she was number one... but my hot-headedness got me. Hopefully she's cool enough to forgive it though because yeah... I do have to admit she seems pretty awesome. I think it was right to do some sports watching before lunch though, helped get me in a better place to chat. For the skill time I picked videogaming. I'm interested to see what challenge it's recommended for

Apolline (voiceover): I mean... I'm trying to overcome quite a bit right now. I do think it might seem like I'm cold but I'm being realistic. We can't all win. Deanna is only picking me- I mean, one of us. I don't know about you but I would rather not befriend people I know are flirting with the same person as me. How can you establish trust? I picked charisma to work on, not that I really need to, but it does seem like a skill that will be essential in the villa

Billie (voiceover): I didn't mean to be rude to Callie, she just doesn't seem like a serious competitor. But after I snapped she looked like a puppy someone had pushed in a puddle. So I backtracked and tried to patch it up, hopefully she's not the kind to hold grudges. Lunch was fun, it would be nice to visit Champs Le Sims one day if Apolline ever deems me worthy of invitation. For skills I chose charisma, I'm going to need it

For dinner Deanna made some Chicken Saltimbocca.

Apolline: Merci! Some real food

Billie: Thanks Deanna

Deanna: You're welcome

Elise: It tastes really nice, what brand of nectar did you use?

Deanna: Uhh, the one in the cupboard?

Lara: Brands don't always tell you how good the nectar will be

Hana: I didn't realise you drank nectar

Lara: I don't much but I know how to navigate behind the bar

Apolline: A useful skill?

Lara: It can be. Sometimes your ordered mixologist will not appear and you need to keep the party going

Callie: I've never really been to many parties

Elise: I've been to parties on almost every continent

Billie: Gosh this sunset is just gorgeous

Hana: I know! I wish I had my full set of paints to capture it

Following the cleaning up, Deanna invites the women to watch a movie with her. While most seem excited at the idea of a film in a language that is not English, Lara is skeptical and Callie is worried.

Callie: Will there be subtitles? We can have subtitles right?

Deanna: Absolutely

Apolline: Disappointed Lara?

Lara: Huh? No, I just prefer action films not drama

Billie: I saw a review of this one but have yet to watch

Hana: Shhh, it's starting

Despite her initial hesitation Callie gets drawn in to the film, crying along with Elise at the sad moments.

Deanna: *sniffling* I don't have a good feeling

Billie: I think they'll make it through this, they're so cute

Hana: Maybe but the lighting says not

Lara: Apolline do you have to cry quite so loud

Apolline: *loud sobs and words in French*

When the film has concluded absolutely everyone headed off to bed despite there being some socialisation time with Deanna left. Emotional films can take a physical toll though so maybe that's why everyone had to rest up?

Sims created by: @belsasim, @igglemouse, @invisiblequeen, @paracosmic-sims, @perolesims (@peroleeesims), @simscici

[shallpass13]

Check your labels just in case. When I worked at a compounding pharmacy (really an apothecary, the compounding was all upstairs) they never used capsules derived from pig gelatin, and they always had vegetarian capsules available as an alternative.

(Unless you already have and that is why you specified headache medicine.)

Now, to address the question of kashrut (I know you didn’t ask, but I couldn’t resist the opportunity to do some research):

To whom does this apply?

There are two types of patient when it comes to medicine and Jewish law. The first is a cholei im sacanat mavet: someone who is sick and in danger of death. In this scenario, the principle of pikuach nefesh—saving a life comes before everything else—takes precedent and the question of the kashrut of medicine becomes irrelevant.

The second type of patient is a cholei bli sacanat mavet—someone who is sick without the danger of death. Although there are plenty of situations in which what it means for a life to be in danger is stretched in Jewish law, this is not one of them. I assume this is your category, at least with regard to your headache medicine (I hope it works well, headaches suck).

To what does kashrut apply?

Kashrut is supposed to be for food. If your kid finds a stick on the ground and bites it, it doesn’t matter if the stick is kosher because it’s not food. If a fly falls into your drink and you take it out, that’s fine because flies (in the context of falling into your drink) aren’t food.

More specifically, things that are meant to be tasted count as ‘food’ for the purpose of kashrut. This means that most pills don’t have to be kosher. Only those that are supposed to be chewed or dissolve in the mouth (i.e. tasted). For example, sublingual Vitamin D2 should be kosher. Chewable calcium tablets, which can be made from shellfish, should be kosher.

TL;dr if you don’t taste your pills, they don’t have to be kosher.

———————————

BTW: Whenever I say anything like “should,” or “have to,” I mean according to halacha. I don’t personally care about the kashrut of medicine (or keeping kosher outside of my house, really) I just find Jewish law fascinating. I also don’t EVER want to tell people how to practice.

well I guess this is the logical next step in, you know. everything

[ilikekidsshows]

Oh god, I just had a horrible thought: if the writers didn’t actually intend to give Marinette anxiety as you said, what if this is just how they think normal teenage girls act like when they’re in love? 🤢 Bc Marinette’s “anxiety” has always been most prevalent when it comes to Adrien, or as a result of situations which could easily induce anxiety in NT folks as well.

---

I don't think I've discussed this before, but, that fear of yours is something I’ve been thinking about as well. It’s not like the writers are having every teenage girl in the show act like Marinette does, so clearly they grasp that different people react differently. But, we also have to consider that only Marinette is really treated as a fictional person by the narrative, the only character that feels real to the writers. Her emotions are the most important in any situation. What anyone else has going on is only important in how it’s going to affect Marinette. Marinette is fully justified in doing things that would get other characters shipped to another country by their abuser because she’s having feelings.

In a show with this many female characters in positions of power and with this much talk about how great girls are, we really shouldn’t be running into the Smurfette phenomenon, where one girl is representing girlkind as a whole, but it’s somehow still true a lot of the time. Like, Alya is the second most prominent character in the show, period, now, and yet we don’t know how she feels about getting manipulated into being the backup Guardian. Alya seems totally blasé about Marinette piling more and more responsibilities onto her. Compare this to when we practically got an entire season about how stressed out Marinette was with her responsibilities and how everyone should bend over to make things easier for her.

Bringing back that point about this show talking about how great girls are; it never actually delivers on that. Marinette is possibly one of the biggest losers I’ve ever seen as a superhero. The best she could manage against her nemesis, no matter what resources she had at her disposal, was an eternal stalemate, she surrendered to that same nemesis and got the world destroyed and finally she had the gall to lie to everyone about her failure so that she can be praised for stopping Hawkmoth when that’s not what she did in any shape or form. And the writers expect us to agree with the assessment of her being a super awesome superhero. I don’t think even the Watchmen would let her join their ranks and their entire thing is to be failures as heroes.

They constantly pay lip service to the idea that girls are amazing and talented and competent, but their actual results are pretty bad. Like, they made a big deal of how the girls always beat the boys at sports in ‘Penalteam’, but are we ever actually shown the girls being good at sports? Because I can’t recall a time that’s happened. The writers can talk the talk by having characters say things that sound empowering, but they can't walk the walk by actually committing to showing the girls doing cool things.

So, yeah, the writers may treat Marinette as the greatest superhero ever whose mistakes are just little oopsies that can be forgiven by her feeling really bad for a few minutes, but that doesn’t mean that she actually is depicted as strong and competent in any way. It’s ironically the same thing the writers are having Marinette do towards Adrien; woobification to the target’s detriment. Marinette’s coddling of Adrien is infantilizing to the degree she is actually dehumanizing him. Similarly, Marinette is presented so much as such a poor, precious baby that needs comfort and understanding that she gets infantilized to the degree where the part where she’s supposed to be a competent, powerful superhero is just another vehicle to woobify her when she's never managed to win in a season premiere or finale without Cat Noir there to give her a little pep talk first.

The need to treat Marinette as the primary target of audience sympathy turns her into a really sexist depiction of a teenage girl as someone who fails without a boy there to hold her hand, completely lacking in any kind of emotional regulation and too easily overwhelmed by her need for romance to bother with things like being considerate. This all is meant to make Marinette sympathetic, because she’s constantly suffering under her overwhelming emotions, but these are actual, real-life stereotypes about teenage girls.

Even the romance is actually really sexist. We get the whole "girls resent each other over guys" trope with Marinette instantly being suspicious of any girl she thinks is interested in Adrien. In addition, Marinette's feelings for Adrien are her primary motivation when her need for control isn't informing her actions, leaning into the sterotype that girls only care about romance.

[udontknowst4r]

damn flo

content & warnings: intended lowercase, f!reader on her period, bf!matt (also soft!matt) x reader, fluff (?), nick names {baby & sweetheart}, jokes about suicide

the soft rain outside faintly hitting the ground really set the mood. you and matt were cuddling on your bed, watching girl, interrupted. you shift in matts arms, an uncomfortable feeling growing in your lower stomach. annoyed, you reach in the pocket of your sweatpants for your phone and go on the flo app. 2 days is plastered in the circle, telling you that your period is predicted to start then. you shove your phone back in your pocket and attempt focus on the movie. "lisa is so me, i'm so lisa." you explain while getting comfortable in matts arms again.

he looks down at you with a concerned expression, "that's not a good thing, baby. you okay?" he then proceeds to rub tiny circles on your shoulder.

"yes, i'm okay matt. but i do have to take a fat piss, so i'll be right back!" you giggle as you get up from the bed. matt watches you strut to the bathroom.

"shit" is the only word you can form once you pull down your sweats. "are you fucking kidding me?" you let yourself pee, then stick toilet paper in between your legs after wiping a few times. while looking for a pad, you remember you need a new pair of underwear and roll your eyes. "matt! can you come here? ... like, today?" you couldn't feel bad for being a tiny bit of an ass when there were more important matters.

the door lightly opens, "what's wrong baby?" matts question is answered as soon as he sees you in front of the sink, scrubbing your underwear. "i'll go get you a new pair." he's practically already out the door before he can even finish his sentence.

a few moments later, matt is back with one of the pair of undies that he knows you use when you're on your period, and some pajama pants. he hands them to you, "here. do you need anything else?"

"a gun."

"not funny or appropriate. i'll be in the kitchen putting a heating pad in the microwave." he leaves the bathroom in a dash.

you're sat on the bed, holding your lower stomach down with a heating pad, miserable. you look to matt, who's already looking at you with empathy, "can we just cuddle? this stupid heating pad isn't working." you ask.

he smiles, "of course," he opens his arms to you after turning the tv off. "i'm pretty tired, so can we just fall asleep?"

you put yourself in his embrace, immediately melting into the hug, "i'm perfectly fine with that. anything to stop the cramps." you're frustrated that your movie marathon day was ruined. "damn flo."

"what did you say, sweetheart?" matt thought he heard you wrong, not knowing what a 'flo' is.

"nothing, let's just sleep."

and after a few minutes of getting comfortable and talking about random things, you drifted off to sleep. matt plants a kiss on your forehead before dozing off into his own dreamland.

a/n: so i actually got my period today when flo said i was supposed to get it in 2 days ! so that inspired me to write this, and i'm thankful bc i didn't know wtf i wanted to write next. also this is so rushed so my apologies if it's bad w/c: 497 please do not copy or translate my work without asking! ©udontknowst4r

dividers from @strangergraphics <3

[siriusblackdevotee]

Alphirius... sigh [incest, grooming]

okay so, Alphard has a huge inferiority complex thing going on. He has no children, no wife, not even bitches, he's not smart, not magically talented or talented at all, he doesn't even have a strong circle of influence...he's just average. In comparison, Lucretia is married with kids, Orion and Walburga are married with kids, one of them the heir, Cygnus is married with kids, two of them engaged to a Lestrange and a Malfoy. All of them stand out for being so powerful, worthy of respect, rich, intelligent, gorgeous, influence...something!!

like u get my point, Alphard still does have all of those things, still a Black, but compared to his relatives? He doesn't have much to offer.

He's the weakest and kind of the most disappointing Black there is and you can tell from the fights within the family. If Cygnus and Walburga fought, they'd be screaming and yelling at each other for hourrss and by the end of it, they wouldn't even come to an agreement, both so prideful to back down so they just mutually ..forget the argument. But if Alphard fought with any of them? He backs down immediately. He doesn't even bother fighting because to him, there's this unspoken dynamic, he wasn't equal to the others, that's just how it is.

is he the youngest?? I think he is but that adds to it as well. That's the way it's been for him ever since he could remember, like he just would never be taken seriously.

it was fine when he was younger but he's an adult now and it really messes with his self esteem?? He's still a prideful Black!! He needs to feel that power that comes with his family name!! yes he occasionally uses it against muggleborns and some purebloods but that doesn't really mean anything, doesn't feel like it means anything. he's still a Black and all, he's supposed to be superior to them and they don't really matter.

point is. Alphard feels like a total loser. A joke for a Black. Like he doesn't fit in, like he doesn't meet their standards. Inferior!! He always wanted to use his authority or power against another black and actually feel like their equal but never did because he's afraid of the blacklash, he's s coward!!

then we have Sirius, just a boy showing already promising signs to be a good future head of the family, he's praised by Walburga and Orion, the beloved grandson of Acturursomething as much as he'd loathed to admit it, even Cygnus feels slightly provoked by the innocent boy. Sirius was so smart, so young and his witty comebacks were enough to make Lucretia speechless, his accidental magic blowing walls of their place down, such a promising magical prowess, truly a perfect Black if it weren't for his love for 'filth'

Alphard didn't really care much about that, everyone was equally below him, besides other Blacks, so he didn't see any need to punish and scold the boy the way Walburga and Orion seemed to. He just continues to shower Sirius with affection because his interest in muggles didn't really pose a huge problem.

Clearly, Alphard must've done something right because Sirius gets extra clingy around him, wants to be the absolute best, just perfect for him so Alphard can keep being so nice to him. He's holding on tighter because his parents,,, they haven't really been nice to him ever since he became so out spoken. that's why he clung to Alphard, who doesn't seem to think it's an issue the way his parents do!!

and Sirius wants to be so good for Alphard, would do anything to make sure Alphard doesn't dislike him or is tired or bored of him. Besides ignoring his non pureblood friends the way his parents have even begging him to. He can't do that but thankfully, the things Alphard tells him to do have nothing to do with all that.

do I make sense. again Alphard hates confrontation with his family, hates working to feel like he's worth something to them, hates judgement and rejection and all that. But there's Sirius who is practically worshipping him submissive to him just bec he's the only adult that's so nice and sweet to him. Sirius would not have the power to make Alphard feel inferior bc the power imbalance between them...???

It's not even really a sex thing?? Is this a d/s thing?? perchance. Alphard just wants power over a Black and Sirius is veryyy willing.

oml and the sex only comes when Alphard is in these really bad depressive moods, where his self worth is in shambles and in those moments, he gets so mean to Sirius, he can't really control himself but he has to take his anger out some way. But the way he phrases himself as he gets Sirius to take off his clothes, like Sirius was helping him, how special he is for being the only one that could make him feel better, that Sirius was doing something so good and nice for Alphard that by the end of it, Sirius is convinced he's helped Alphard because he seemed so calm and happy afterwards, even if Sirius felt uncomfortable and scared through it.

These depressive moods happen occasionally, and most of the times Alphard is just very sweet to him!! He'd even send Sirius pocket money when his own parents absolutely refused as a punishment for a silly thing. He'd even buy Sirius his favorite food, that one new broom, some muggle trinkets here and there. So Alphard can't be a bad person!! The secret things they do don't even hurt!!

that's kind of why Sirius doesn't recognize what Alphard is doing to him as bad bc. To him bad is pain and mean words, neither of which Alphard gives him. He doesn't know Alphard is hurting him lmao.

[captainwriter]

Chapter 8 - The Worry List

Summary: Who is Quinn Hughes? That’s all Iris wants to know. Will Quinn and Iris be able to overcome the accident that rips them apart. Will Iris ever remember who Quinn Hughes is?

Masterlist l Chapter 7 l Chapter 8 (coming soon)

Warnings: Aussie spelling, occasional swear word.

Words: 1691

Iris’ POV:

Things have been a little tense but also there has been a a smidge of hope between the two of us now that I am beginning to remember. I say beginning I have only remembered the accident a few nights ago and since then nothing. I thought Quinn was holding a lot of stress on his shoulders nearly 2 months ago when I woke in that hospital room, but now added to the mix is the recent loosing streak the Canucks have been on. Quinn takes it all personally and he is stretching himself too thin. Between the demands from the team, franchise, media and me, he isn’t looking after himself. I am trying not to be a burden however it doesn’t seem to be working, Quinn is worried about everything. 

Yesterday morning I was standing on one of our dining room chairs the other day, getting a container from a shelf that sits above the fridge. Quinn was getting ready for morning practice so I didn’t want to bother him. However as I grabbed the container and did a little internal cheer for joy when I did a task independently. I heard accelerating footsteps around the corner. Oh no. “What are you doing?” I can still hear his voice laced in panic and fear. He grabs my waist and lifts me down. His hands didn’t leave my waist as he checks me over head to toe. “I’m okay Quinn, I promise,” I look him dead in the eyes, however his eyes still shift around my body. “But what is something happened? What if you feel and hit your head again? What if you did more damage?” Ah the what ifs, the recent fixation Quinn has held. “I’m okay,” I bring his attention back to me and he physically shakes his shoulders and relaxes. Quinn was very hesitant to leave for morning skate, it took me shoving him out the door. 

Today I am getting out of the house and going to my first Canucks game! Well I suppose not my first game but first game I remember. Quinn has a list, longer than me of his worries of what could go wrong. As someone who loves hockey I did not want to sit in the WAG box, Quinn’s worry list got longer. However it worked out well for Quinn because he is versing the Devils which means his parents are in town to watch their sons. Now I’m terrified because I am not only meeting the parents but also sitting with them for the whole game. Quinn has told me I’ve met Ellen and Jim multiple times before but I’m still bubbling with nerves. Plus I am meeting Jack and Luke for the first time in this mental capacity. I suppose Quinn and I are sharing our worry list today. 

Quinn left early this morning to get to the rink before the afternoon game. He was adamant he wanted to drive me to the game, despite me refusing and suggesting I would walk to the arena and that way we can drive back together. I didn’t even dare suggesting I would drive the car, that is a sensitive topic still.

I’m dressed in blue jeans and the black Vancouver jersey, proudly donning Hughes 43 across my back and arms. The fabric feels comfortable as I look in the mirror, the pride in my chest grows. Over growing the worry. I'm interrupted by my pinging on my phone, and sure enough, a new message from Ellen pops up, lighting up my screen with a familiar warmth. “You’re wearing Quinn’s jersey today, right? Good choice. We’ll have Jack’s, and Jim’s got Luke’s. That way, we’re all showing support. We can’t wait to see you today. Don’t stress, give me a nudge if at any point you feel too overwhelmed.”

I read the message again, feeling the tension in my shoulders begin to ease. How does she know what to say? It’s uncanny, really. Quinn said I was close with Ellen. Maybe that is why she has this uncanny ability to read me, to understand exactly what I need without me even having to speak a word. I didn’t tell her how nervous I was about the today. She just knew.

I finish getting ready and sit scrolling through Quinn and my photos to help trigger my memories. We look so in love, so comfortable with each other. Will it ever return to that? Quinn’s what ifs and worries have been guided by my health and safety. However mine are about the future, what if my memories don’t come back what then, will Quinn still be there. A knock interrupts my thoughts that will be Ellen and Jim, all together we are walking to the arena and that way the boys can drive us to dinner after the game and Quinn's mind can be at ease. 

The walk to the arena was short and yet comfortable. The walk accompanied by light conversation with both Ellen and Jim, catching up over the past 2 months and how I have been but also talking about the game. The crowd was electric. We were sitting in the lower bowl, prefect seats. The crowd's chatter amplified by the hundreds, the cold air filtering through the vents, the smell of beer, hot food and sweat filled the air. Oh yeah it is nice to be back. As we sit down in our seats, I’m filled with a sense of familiarity, my body looks around and I can remember being near the glass and Quinn throwing a puck over at me, a heart drawn on one side, other times sitting with the WAGS in the box or cheering Quinn on sitting alone in the crowd. It wasn’t like the movies when a million flashes of memories accompanied by an 'ah ha' moment. Instead it was a rush of familiarity, a sense of I have been here before. 

Quinn’s POV:

This is the best we have been playing in over a month. It’s the third period and we are up 4 goals to 2. Every time I play my younger brothers I feel like a kid again playing street hockey. But I have a feeling it has to do with someone who is in the crowd tonight. I can’t lie when she asked if she could come to the game I was super excited, then the worry set in but knowing my mum and dad are sitting right next to her eases the worries. 

After the post game interviews and a shower, I walk out of the changing rooms and I am met by the best sight I have ever seen. My sunshine dressed in my jersey. The sleeves consuming her arms, with her back to me, I can see my name craved into her back. My brothers and parents are standing their laughing and smiling. I walk up nudging Jack pushing my way into the circle and ruffling Luke’s hair. Congratulations are thrown around welcomed with hugs as well as chirps from my bothers. I turn to Iris, she latches on to me for a hug, her small hands gently rubbing my back and one landing on my neck. For just a second she brings me in even tighter before whispering “congratulations.”

I pull her a little closer, letting the warmth of her presence settle in as the noise around us fades into the background. Her embrace feels like everything I’ve been waiting for after a long, grueling game. She always knows how to make everything feel like it’s right again. As she pulls back, her eyes meet mine, and for a brief moment, I lose myself in the way she looks at me—like the day we first met and we are falling in love all over again.

“Thanks,” I murmur, my voice low, a grin tugging at the corners of my lips. “The win feels bigger with you here.” She smiles, her eyes lighting up in a way that makes my chest tighten, and I’m not sure if it’s from the game or just her being near me, but I don’t want to pull away. Her fingers linger on my back, sending a shiver through me. I step back slightly, taking a breath, trying to keep my focus. My brothers and parents are still around, engaged in their own conversation, but in this moment, it’s just me and Iris.

On our walk back to the car, after we broke away from my family I turn to Iris with a cheeky grin growing. “So, you’re wearing my jersey, huh?” I ask, my voice teasing but soft, a playful smirk crossing my face. Her smile widens, and she nudges me gently, “What can I say? You’re my favourite player.” I laugh, shaking my head, but I can’t help the way my heart feels full at her words. I open the door and we begin the short drive to a local restaurant.

We are all gathered around a table out for dinner. This is the one thing I miss about living in Canada, my family and not spending time with them. But then I met this girl, my girl and suddenly I didn’t feel so upset about missing out being in another country. This feels normal. At one point during dinner an inside joke was brought up but Iris didn’t remember the joke, Jack being Jack teased Iris about her memory and everyone giggled. It came from a warm hearted place, Jack and Iris got along and always ganged up on others but Jack hasn’t been there the last 2 months and seen the impact the accident had.  

The conversation continues around us, unknown to anyone else Iris recoils into herself and withdraws from conversation. I nudge my leg with hers, she glances at me and just as quickly casts her eyes back at her hands as they begin to dance with her ring, intertwining and twirling. I break up the nervousness by placing my palm sitting open on her thigh, an offer, a proposal. A pause in her fiddling. A decline to my offer as she went back to fiddling. 

[starryoak]

Making memes out of my headcanons, part 3, swinging bats at hornets nests edition!

[bugdogg]

im teetering on the edge of something or another, feels like a breakdown but its more so falling back on old unhealthy habits that feel comforting to do but ultimately don't help me in the long run

anyway im coping somehow by comparing myself to dogs and going "haha im young, i got a ways to go before my evil villain arc"

[tearlessrain]

please help me- i used to be pretty smart but i’m having so much trouble grasping the concept of diegetic vs non-diegetic bdsm!

gfkjldghfd okay first of all I'm sorry for the confusion, if you're not finding anything on the phrase it's because I made it up and absolutely nobody but me ever uses it, but I haven't found a better way to express what I'm trying to say so I keep using it. but now you've given me an excuse to ramble on about some shit that is only relevant to me and my deeply inefficient way of talking and by god I'm going to take it.

SO. the way diegetic and non-diegetic are normally used is to talk about music and sound design in movies/tv shows. in case you aren't familiar with that concept, here's a rundown:

diegetic sound is sound that happens within the world of the movie/show and can be acknowledged by the characters, like a song playing on the stereo during a driving scene, or sung on stage in Phantom of the Opera. it's also most other sounds that happen in a movie, like the sounds of traffic in a city scene, or a thunderclap, or a marching band passing by. or one of the three stock horse sounds they use in every movie with a horse in it even though horses don't really vocalize much in real life, but that's beside the point, the horse is supposed to be actually making that noise within the movie's world and the characters can hear it whinnying.

non-diegetic sound is any sound that doesn't exist in the world of the movie/show and can't be perceived by the characters. this includes things like laugh tracks and most soundtrack music. when Duel of Fates plays in Star Wars during the lightsaber fight for dramatic effect, that's non-diegetic. it exists to the audience, but the characters don't know their fight is being backed by sick ass music and, sadly, can't hear it.

the lines can get blurry between the two, you've probably seen the film trope where the clearly non-diegetic music in the title sequence fades out to the same music, now diegetic and playing from the character's car stereo. and then there are things like Phantom of the Opera as mentioned above, where the soundtrack is also part of the plot, but Phantom of the Opera does also have segments of non-diegetic music: the Phantom probably does not have an entire orchestra and some guy with an electric guitar hiding down in his sewer just waiting for someone to break into song, but both of those show up in the songs they sing down there.

now, on to how I apply this to bdsm in fiction.

if I'm referring to diegetic bdsm what I mean is that the bdsm is acknowledged for what it is in-world. the characters themselves are roleplaying whatever scenarios their scenes involve and are operating with knowledge of real life rules/safety practices. if there's cnc depicted, it will be apparent at some point, usually right away, that both characters actually are fully consenting and it's all just a planned scene, and you'll often see on-screen negotiation and aftercare, and elements of the story may involve the kink community wherever the characters are. Love and Leashes is a great example of this, 50 Shades and Bonding are terrible examples of this, but they all feature characters that know they're doing bdsm and are intentional about it.

if I'm talking about non-diegetic bdsm, I'm referring to a story that portrays certain kinks without the direct acknowledgement that the characters are doing bdsm. this would be something like Captive Prince, or Phantom of the Opera again, or the vast majority of bodice ripper type stories where an innocent woman is kidnapped by a pirate king or something and totally doesn't want to be ravished but then it turns out he's so cool and sexy and good at ravishing that she decides she's into it and becomes his pirate consort or whatever it is that happens at the end of those books. the characters don't know they're playing out a cnc or D/s fantasy, and in-universe it's often straight up noncon or dubcon rather than cnc at all. the thing about entirely non-diegetic bdsm is that it's almost always Problematic™ in some way if you're not willing to meet the story where it's at, but as long as you're not judging it by the standards of diegetic bdsm, it's just providing the reader the same thing that a partner in a scene would: the illusion of whatever risk or taboo floats your boat, sometimes to extremes that can't be replicated in real life due to safety, practicality, physics, the law, vampires not being real, etc. it's consensual by default because it's already pretend; the characters are vehicles for the story and not actually people who can be hurt, and the reader chose to pick up the book and is aware that nothing in it is real, so it's all good.

this difference is where people tend to get hung up in the discourse, from what I've observed. which is why I started using this phrasing, because I think it's very crucial to be able to differentiate which one you're talking about if you try to have a conversation with someone about the portrayal of bdsm in media. it would also, frankly, be useful for tagging, because sometimes when you're in the mood for non-diegetic bodice ripper shit you'd call the police over in real life, it can get really annoying to read paragraphs of negotiation and check-ins that break the illusion of the scene and so on, and the opposite can be jarring too.

it's very possible to blur these together the same way Phantom of the Opera blurs its diegetic and non-diegetic music as well. this leaves you even more open to being misunderstood by people reading in bad faith, but it can also be really fun to play with. @not-poignant writes fantastic fanfic, novels, and original serials on ao3 that pull this off really well, if you're okay with some dark shit in your fiction I would highly recommend their work. some of it does get really fucking dark in places though, just like. be advised. read the tags and all that.

but yeah, spontaneous writer plug aside, that's what I mean.

[inbabylontheywept]

she was dead silent on the drive home, but that was okay. sometimes, after band practice, she was just out of words. it was a short drive to her house. the only part where it actually felt weird was after i pulled up her parent’s driveway. 

after that, the silence stretched so far it smeared and left a weird residue. she kept looking at the car door like she wanted to leave, so i looked at the door too, then she looked at me, and i looked at her, and my first thought was that she was going to tell me that the door was stuck. i was used to that car always doing some damn thing. it was the car me and all my siblings had learned to drive in, and it was really beat to hell. there were dents all over the body, which we’d unsuccessfully tried fixing up with spackle. it had looked nice for maybe a week, but then the sun wrecked it - the spackle cracked up like the mud on the bottom of a dry riverbed and turned a sort of off yellow-white that made the car looked like it had been molded out of chicken shit. it also had a bullet hole it through the cabin that whistled like a toothless old man whenever the car went above 40, so loud it could drown out the radio, and a cabin that smelled so strongly of bugspray that even the arizona summer we drove everywhere we could with the windows down.

(if you have kids one day, you will maybe, possibly, begin to understand how much i loved that car.)

anyway, i was thinking about what else could possibly be wrong with the chickenshitmobile, and she just kept looking at me, and then i wondered if there was something on my face, and she just kept looking at me, and then the penny dropped and i realized she was trying to work up the nerve to break up with me. 

now, i’d seen her work up the nerve to do things like this before – it could take quite a while. and knowing it was about to happen made the waiting immediately unbearable. 

so i said hey. 

and she looked at me, very startled, and said hey back real small. like she’d been caught. and in a way, i suppose she had. 

and i said it’s okay. you can just say it. i’ll be okay.

i’m always okay. 

and she said: i’m really sorry. 

i loved her, you know? it was highschool, but teenagers are capable of love. the way people love changes over time just as much as the way they stand, or the way they talk, but things don’t stop existing just because they're different. opposite really – a thing only stops changing when it's fully gone.

and i said, nothing to be sorry for, and i meant it. she looked a little relived, and i was happy to give her that peace. then she left. i watched her make it through the front door, because that was just habit at that point, and then i sat there a while afterwards, checking how i felt. and the answer was not good, but good enough to make it home. good enough to limp on. 

so i put my car in reverse, took my last look goodbye, and immediately backed into her neighbor’s car. 

crunch. 

air bags didn't go off, which was good. i left a decent dent in the bumper of the other car. genuinely couldn’t tell if i did anything to my car – anything wrong with it just kind of blended together into the general ecosystem of hand mottled, sun cracked, chickenshit spackle. 

i checked my glove box, and my car insurance info was, of course, out of date. my phone was dead too. as a teenager, my phone was less my lifeline to my friends, and more my tether to my parents, so i wasn’t particularly conscious of keeping it charged. both my fault.

i sat there a few minutes, trying to think of the best way to handle things, and there was only one answer i could think of, and i hated that answer, so i spent a few more minutes trying and failing to think of a better one, and then a few more coming to peace with what had to be done. 

then i went back to knock on my now ex’s front door. 

her dad opened, which i was very relieved over, even if he seemed less than thrilled. he looked me over, and in a firm, but slightly apologetic way said: she does not want to see you right now. 

(i think he assumed i was going to try and talk her out of the break up?)

and i said not here for her. i just backed into your neighbor’s car, and i need to call my dad, but my phone’s dead. could i borrow yours?

and he looked at me, then back at his neighbors car, which sure enough was dented, then he looked at the chickenshitmobile, and if there was something wrong with it, it just kind of blended into the general Wrongness of the car, then back to me, and i could see him imagining the last ten minutes from my pov: getting broken up with, backing into a car, having to walk up to your exes door and borrow a phone, calling my dad to tell him that i just reversed into someone.  

and his expression shifted from stern and apologetic to truly sad, which felt more kind that i deserved. things only got here because i kept fucking up - forgot to look behind me, forgot to replace the insurance forms, forgot to charge my phone. it was my mess, but his sympathy meant the world to me. i probably would’ve cried if he said sorry, or patted me on the back or called me sport, but instead he said

stay out here – i’ll bring you a phone.

and then he left.  

i found a nice spot on the lawn in the shade under a sycamore, then settled into his grass.i was trying not to freak out, and was doing an okay job. he came out a minute or so later, not just with a phone, but a juicebox and a jar of green olives, which really threw a wrench in the whole try not to cry thing. soon as i saw those, a few tears squoze out. i was still hoping i could pass them off as Manly Tears but then he told me that he’d gotten the olives a few weeks before and had been meaning to hand them off to me, and that this was his last chance for that. then i made a sound like a horse drowning in a bog, and he patted my back pretty rough, four solid thumps, like he wasn't sure if i was crying or choking on an olive, and was trying to cover both bases at once.

then he went back inside, and i made a few more bog horse noises while finishing off the rest of the entire jar of green olives, and then i called my dad.

he was about ten minutes away that day, and luckily was home. he drove over, and we went to the neighbor’s house, and from there things actually went quite nice. the neighbor was a retired man who actually said he could fix the dent himself, no need for insurance. he said he appreciated that i didn't just drive off, and i said i was really sorry about his car, and he said he was really sorry about my car, and then he gestured to the chickenshitmobile and i laughed because it really was a disaster on wheels.

then we left.

i thought we were going to head straight home, but instead we went to a gas station, and we both got several slim jims that we folded into thick enough coils that we could put them on a hotdog bun because the growing up mormon equivalent of having a sad brewski with your dad is just choosing to make bad decisions sober. then he took me to the canals and we watched the sun turn all orange and pink, and he looked over at me and said:

brains are good at remembering bad days. so you gotta make sure that a bad day has a good part in it, so you can remember that too. remember that when you have a kid. try to do a good job on days like that - they're going to be a big part of how they remember you.

and then he gave me a big hug and said he was never going to eat another slim jim again.

---

the year after that i went to college, which kicked my butt in new and exciting ways. and on a lot of those bad days, after a test that went sour, or a faux paus that was particularly embarrassing, or some other hardship of my new adult life, i’d stop by the gas station and pick up leathery, half jerkied hotdog before heading to the canals to watch the sun set. i’d take a bite and imagine my dad next to me, grimacing through the slim-jim wad, asking what good thing i was going use that time to remember. 

and in my head, i’d say you, dad. 

i’m going to remember you.

[trainsinanime]

I wonder: Do Americans know about american school buses? Not their existence in general, but how they're seen overseas.

Over here, they're one of the symbols of America, on par with the Statue of Liberty, the flag, the Eagle, and well ahead of any chain restaurant you can name. People won't know any US states, but they will know these vehicles.

The thing is, here in Germany, we don't have dedicated school buses. The general idea is that kids go to school on their own. When that's not practical, they're expected to use (and given free tickets for) public transit. Public transit is designed around this requirement; there are many places where there is a bus, and anyone can get on it, but the route and timetable really only makes sense for school children. In case a dedicated school bus is really needed, that's generally subcontracted out, and the lines either use something like a Sprinter Van for smaller routes, or a normal city or interurban bus (often a used one that's a bit older). School trips are normal public transit, or a rented bus, typically a coach or regional bus.

It's not a perfect system, in the past couple of years there's been an epidemic of people bringing their kids to school in their cars instead of letting them walk, which is less than ideal. It is what it is. But building a dedicated network of public transit lines only for students, and building dedicated vehicles only for that, has never occurred to anyone here.

Of course we know about these buses, from movies and such, but they're as foreign here as cacti or pick-up trucks (actually we're seeing more and more of these here) or yellow cabs (all europeans will assume all cabs in the US are yellow until they actually visit).

You do see these buses here at times, because people still generally like the idea of the US, even if they have a lot of issues with a lot of details, and so folks bring them over, along with stretch limos and stuff (also not really a thing here). And of course, if someone goes to all that trouble, they don't do it to haul school kids, they rent it out for city tours or as a party bus or whatever.

So you see these yellow things as a symbol of faraway places, scenic vistas, some vague undefined idea of freedom that doesn't necessarily hold up to any contact with reality, and it's just a huge part of the whole US aesthetic.

And then you go to a student exchange with the US, and you finally get the chance: You yourself get to ride in one of these iconic chrome yellow buses! It looks just like in the movies! You get in, you drive in them a little…

…and you realise they're shit. Just the worst buses in the western world. Terrible suspension. Uncomfortable seats with weirdly high backs (so they don't have to put seatbelts in, they just restrict how far kids can fly in an accident). Everything made out of the cheapest materials. Turns out the reason why the US uses school buses like that instead of normal modern city buses, which the US has, is to save money and because they just hate kids.

And then it hits you why US Americans say "as American as apple pie", a dish that is made and enjoyed literally anywhere in the world, instead of "as American as yellow school buses". Of course the Americans already knew all this. They got tortured by these things forever. It would never occur to them to see this as a symbol of America, it's just a normal part of life for them. It's a symbol of school and school life and sometimes normalcy, and tells us that these actors getting out of it are supposed to be teenagers, nothing more.

But most people in Europe have, of course, never ridden on these buses. So when they see them in movies and TV, that's a giant big yellow signifier that we're not in Hessen or Wallonia or wherever anymore. A symbol of a different world, one that may be at most a once-in-a-lifetime-experience for most people, just like a picture of a tropical beach, Mayan Pyramids, the Great Wall of China, or Hildesheim (there's no reason to go there twice). And I think Americans don't know that, and that's fascinating.

[webism]

pornstar!nanami, who has a ritualistic approach to his job—go in, deliver a stellar performance, give his co-star a real orgasm, get paid. he gets a lot of action out of his job, and rarely seeks out... personal trysts.

but pornstar!nanami meets you in a bar, as cliche as it is, and whiskey-dick must be a myth because there's no way he could ever struggle to get it up when you look like that. and he's a gentleman, he swears it, but the sight of you in even the most simple of situations makes him want to be a bad man—do bad things.

pornstar!nanami who buys you a drink and somehow convinces you, in your heavenly stature, to come home with him. he feels like a virgin all over again, wracked with excitement and electric nerves all the same. he feels bad for being so forward with you, but he'll make you breakfast in the morning to make up for his degrading lust.

pornstar!nanami who just can't wait to get home, despite you agreeing to come spend the night. he's upset with the lewd forefront of his mind, but doesn't give himself long to lecture his own self before he's urging you into the dingy bathroom and attaching his lips to yours.

pornstar!nanami who wants to be a sweetheart, wants to swoon you, but his dick is just too hard and the noise you make when his hand swats your ass is too good to deny himself. he's so used to a camera crew being present when he's having sex that bending you over the sink and kneeling down to eat you out from behind feels more intimate than filthy.

pornstar!nanami who makes you cum on his tongue in record time: he has the practice after all. you're a shaking mess of moans when he finally stands straight to meet your gaze in the mirror. who smiles at the way you already look so fucked out, and he's hardly had his way with you yet.

pornstar!nanami who thinks your moans are made for porn when he turns you and pins you against the bathroom door—the one that doesn't lock—to catch your lips in a hot and messy kiss that has you dizzy already. before you can register his movements, he's hoisting your legs up to wrap around his waist and pushing into you with a torturous ease, like he's fucking made to fill you.

pornstar!nanami who, as he starts to thrust into you, letting your back hit the door with each snap of his hips, keeps thinking about how miserable taking his next job will be. how's he supposed to dramatise pleasure when he's felt something as perfect as you? clenching around him, each gasp you take from his breath as he fucks you to the edge of pleasure and back. nothing is going to compare.

pornstar!nanami who starts to ramble, his mind reeling with need and pleasure and want and everything on the path to infatuation. "you're so petty wrapped around my cock like this," he grunts, fucks into you faster, deeper. "fuck, i dont believe in fate but—shit—this... god i'm made for you. just for you."

pornstar!nanami whose words force you both over the edge, and you cum in blissful unison. eyes squeezed shut and kento's teeth sinking gently into the skin of your shoulder as he empties his balls. he debates telling you what he does, inviting you to film with him for a private shoot, something for him to keep and lock away for his eyes only.

pornstar!nanami who watches as you melt into his arms, eyes wide and watching every beautiful feature of his face as he stays seated inside of you. you're about to part your lips and admit that you know who he is, that you've seen him a hundred times before when the night is dark and your fingers slip into your panties at the sight of him on your phone screen, that you'd do anything to see him again, that you'd star for him, do anything he'd ask... when there's a knock on the bathroom door :)

[flowafairy]

holding you , holding me ✿ bllk men

﹒postscript : when they realise they’re in love, with you. ɞ‎ feat. nagi, reo, rin, karasu, shidou, sae, kaiser ɞ‎ cw fem reader in a few, banter, suggestive

nagi realises he’s in love with you when the late night calls start getting more frequent. he had started craving your presence more and more. hell, he felt lovesick.

“what a hassle..” nagi’s head flops against the bed sheets, his gaze constantly shifting to his phone to see if you’ve replied to his text yet.

the nagi waiting for your texts? not to mention texting first, call a man whipped!

”i only take a few second’s to reply..” nagi picks up his phone again, grumbling when his notifications are empty. if he replies as soon as you do, why do you have to spend the next 3 decades replying back?

nagi’s usually the one who replies and then logs on minecraft for hours. him replying in mere seconds at your texts—you’re definitely special. very special in his eyes, oh. there’s something else that caught his eyes.

nagi’s phone lit up with a notification, from you.

sure! it’s a date then :))

cool, :x. 7PM?

reo realies he’s in love with you when his pockets really start to hurt.

i mean really. he’s been spoiling you relentlessly for the past few weeks. even if you insist you don’t need a new shirt, by tomorrow your closet is filled with them.

you just can’t seem to escape his mind. whenever he walks by the street and spots a store, his first thought goes to you, that maybe you’d like this. that maybe he should buy it for you—of course he will.

“you know.” reo smiles at you as you try on the new necklace he bought for you. “i booked a dinner for us, just us.”

“oh?” you hum, still struggling with the hook. “can you help me?”

“sure.” he’s more than happy to help you hook your necklace—a chance to put his hands on you? he’ll take it gladly.

“so about that dinner..” his hands swiftly clasp your necklace around your neck. “are you coming or what?”

“i don’t know… the mikage reo taking me out?” you grin up at him. “im a little shy.”

you and reo laugh soundly, well, looks like you’ve got a date tonight.

rin couldn’t believe it.

he’s in love with you, playback—he’s in love.

it started off with smaller details, like how he would leave his soccer practice or gym earlier than usual to see you. and also how his messages app slowly started to become his most used app.

soccer wasn’t everything anymore, he had you too now.

“don’t make me waste money on this lukewarm shit ever again.” rin gruffed as he watched you sip the drink he had bought you from the convenience store earlier.

normally, he’d never waste his money on some useless milkshake from the store, that’s not even good for your body. but seeing you contentedly gulp at the fresh taste of your drink, he can’t seem to hold himself back.

“give me some.”

the words slip out of his tongue before he can control them.

“you wanna try?” well he’s definitely colored you surprised now. “come here then, rinnie.”

rin could feel his face slightly heat up at the nickname. he scoots closer to you, snatching the drink from your hand with no warning.

“hey!” you glare at him as he drinks the entire thing in one gulp, definitely not what you anticipated. “that was mine, you were supposed to take a sip.” you huff at him.

rin only rolls his eyes. “i paid for it. ill buy you a new one later.” your eyes sparkle at his words.

“fine, you win.” you smile. “im going to get going before you become grumpy and tell me to shoo.” you give him a teasing wink, about to get up from his couch when suddenly he grabs your arm.

“wait.” he grits his teeth, biting back words. “don’t go.”

“rin?”

“just, don’t.”

“you missed me, huh?” karasu smirks. he had his hair down, for once not put up with an insane amount of gel—karasu in all his glory.

“i didn’t.” you huff at him. “you look even uglier with your hair down.”

“yer’ comparing my beauty to your birds nest?” karasu crosses his arms, leaning against the door.

“oh, we can see them split ends girl.” you roll your eyes.

karasu has always loved bantering with you, but nowadays, it seems as if his heart has been telling him thats not the only reason his heartbeat speeds up whenever he’s around you.

he loves bantering with you, he loves you.

there’s a prolonged silence, karasu’s anticipating if he should say what he’s about to say. he usually isn’t this nervous—you’re the exception to that.

“you think you wanna go out sometime, yeah?” it’s the way his sharp eyes soften that makes your heart start doing flips.

“yeah, i do.”

there’s a moment of comfortable silence, your brain ingraving the memory in the back of your head. which of course, quickly gets ruined by his cocky smirk. he wasn’t the best at dealing with these moments

“even y’can’t resist my charm.” karasu sticks his tongue out at you. “ill pick you up at 9.”

“you… get back here!”

shidou could feel a wide grin on his face as he read your message—“sure, i’d love to go sky diving with you!”

anybody would of said that is a crazy idea for a first date, but you? you can say you definitely match his freak.

his heart explodes into a burst of enthusiasm whenever you’re around him. he can feel a rush of serotonin whenever you accidentally brush your hands against his.

oh he was so in love. he is definitely wifing you up when you deploy the parachute- how could he not when he feels like he’s going to explode with all these bottled up feelings.

he in fact had a very disappointed pout on his face when you said it was far too soon for marriage, so what if you’re not dating yet? you can start now!

your betrayal will not be forgotten. but hey, he can try again next year.

sae realised he’s in love with you when you started becoming an avid figure in his daily routine.

it was like muscle memory for him to wake up and check for your good morning text, never failing to emit an amused scoff from his lips.

of course, he acknowledged the fact that he was in love with you. but would he dare entertain the thought and risk the beloved friendship you already have? never.

“nobody’s looking.”

this was dangerous. he has you trapped against the wall in the locker room, his lips tantalisingly close to yours. he wasn’t suppose to be doing this—but how could he resist when you came to see him at practice?

“sae…we can’t here.” you try to be rational, but your breathing is just as heavy as his.

“just shut-“

footsteps. someone was coming. sae pushes you away behind a locker so nobody see’s you, leaning against the wall nonchalantly.

maybe next time he’ll get you.

kaiser took some time to notice his feelings, but even he started getting self conscious of all the excuses he started making to touch you, and the flirting was starting to cross a few boundaries as well.

maybe he’s just lust-driven, that’s all he thought for a while. he chose to distance himself, and you didn’t miss the change in his behaviour.

he thought distancing himself would help ease his feelings.. not make them worse.

he can feel his heart throbbing, mind full with only thoughts of you—is it love or is it lust?

he doesn’t know, he’s never felt like this before. what even is love? thats stupid.

“hey.” he smirks, grasping your hand, a habit of his by now. “what are you up to, schatz?” the light-hearted pet name rolls off his tongue smoothly.

“michael.” you look at him, eyes widening a little. “i haven’t seen you in forever.” his expression slightly wavers at that.

“oh i’ve been.. busy.” he lies, smiling. the truth is, he hasn’t been busy at all. he’s been avoiding you, you and your precious smile.

“its okay.” you pat his shoulder. “i just missed you.”

“i missed you too.” he blurts out unknowingly, slightly flinching at what he said. “i’ve been avoiding you.” he confesses.

your eyebrow’s slightly raise at that. “…why?”

“because.. i don’t know.”

your hands hesitantly reach out. you knew how he was about physical touch, but maybe just this once he needs it.

he bents down a little, his face hitting your shoulder as he reciprocated your hug.

“Ich liebe dich.”

apologies, some parts aren’t as long as the others. i got lazy ( and have favorites… ✌️) only 7 chrc bc i had no ideas for isagi