#vulgar words

[microphone-idol]

Make them stop [Past event]

TW: Transphobia, vulgar words [kind of? I guess?]

A woman's screaming came from down in the kitchen followed by the sounds of kitchen drawers slamming shut, the clattering of pots and pans and man's voice screaming for the woman to stop having a tantrum. "NO! NO, I WON'T! I WANTED A LITTLE GIRL AND SHE DOESN'T WANT TO BE A LITTLE GIRL ANYMORE! SHE WANTS TO BE SOME DUMBASS MAN LIKE YOU! UGH!" "Fucking- Will you calm down, woman? I don't much care for our daughter tryna change herself into a boy either, but I don't fuckin' care about either of these useless little shits as well! I'm stuck with them because YOUR slut ass got pregnant, and I couldn't leave!" "YOU'RE THE ONE WHO GOT ME PREGNANT IN THE FIRST PLACE, YOU DAMN PIG OF A MAN! Microphone, a small yellow demon, was sitting up in "her" bedroom, hugging "her" knees close to "her" chest as "she" listened to the adult demons continue to yell and scream, little wings curled up and pressed against "her" back in fear. Microphone pressed "her" hands against "her" ears, desperately trying to drown out the screaming voices of the older demons. The constant insults, the words of regret over having "her" and "her" brother Megaphone, it was all too much. "She" just wanted it to stop, "she" didn't want to hear the voices of "her" parents, wanted the banging and clattering and clanging to stop. "She" knew "her" parents were awful demons, that they weren't worth the guilty tears that pooled into the corners of Microphone's eyes, but part of "her" brain was nagging constantly, telling "her" that it was all "her" fault for wanting to become a boy, for getting even an INCH of confidence to tell "her" parents how "she's" been feeling. How fucking FOOLISH "she" was to even think they'd be considerate of "her" and "her" feelings. So fucking foolish. Imagine a world where "she" and Megaphone didn't need to feel like they were nothing but objects to be controlled and pushed around. "FINE! Fine. If that USELESS FUCKING daughter of mine wants to be a boy! Then so bet it! But I don't want her anymore now if she's going to keep acting like she has a choice in the matter! She's my DAUGHTER, my LITTLE GIRL and there's nothing SHE can do about it! And you can tell HER that!" A loud slam came from downstairs followed by the groan of a male demon who was now left to keep up the mess the female demon had made turning her adult temper tantrum. Microphone's little eyes were filled up with tears, the stinging heat finally getting too much and causing "her" to tear. "She" pushed "her" face into "her" knees, feeling as some of the salty liquid started to run down "her" legs and drip onto "her" feet. All Microphone wanted was to be accepted. To be loved by "her" parents. But why would the innocent be loved by the hateful? All she wanted to be was he.

[maximaxstreasurebox]

who would have thought my super random funny hahah ships from reading random fanfic and coop will become actual canon interactions-

[effinbirds]

Last time I did a run of these they sold out in a day. Yes, I ordered way more this time, and in larger and smaller sizes.

Send pictures while wearing it in front of a sunset or holding your performance improvement plan.

[dick-chugger]

I need you guys to know that one of the most common Finnish words for "horny" (kiimainen) literally means "in heat".

[catboywizard]

sometimes i forget how sanitized tiktok and other platforms are compared to tumblr until i come across stuff like this video i saw earlier where someone, as well as a bunch of ppl in the comments, were absolutely scandalized that aziraphale got called a faggot by a kid early on in the good omens book

gays on here throw it around like loose change but ppl on tiktok act like finding it in a book written for adults in 1990 is a huge mind blowing shocker

i’m not saying the book should or shouldn’t have used it, but the video was definitely a big culture shock bc of just how differently that word is treated on here

[mrehkka]

Any gesture that uses just the first 2 fingers is vulgar to Irkens. Zim was very confused by humans doing peace signs for photos or using finger quotes when talking

Doing this sign from the forehead means the Irken military in particular bc of the forehead symbol the elite soldiers have

Editing to add: Irkens would be APALLED to see any of these gestures used- Zim has just been on earth long enough that he doesn't care anymore lmao if he does this in other Irkens' presence they would smack his hand down so fast AND ALSO Zim isn't wearing any gloves?? This makes the gesture even worse!

Part 2

[jjxkiaraxpopexcleoxjohnbxsarah]

Rafe Cameron S3 OBX + Eminem-Discombobulated

[mad-raptorzzz]

[ID: A drawing of two SeaWing dragons from Wings of Fire facing each other. Tsunami has her back to the viewer and is smirking with her ear tipped forward. She has mostly medium blue scales with dark blue along her spine and snout. Some of her aqua blue bioluminescent face scalers are lit up. She is smirking at Whirpool who floats in front of her. He looks stunned by the audacity of what she is saying in aquatic. His green-yellow scales are lighter on his belly and darker on his back. He has large ears for a SeaWing, which are adorned with several large hooped earrings each. Over his left eye, he has a small golden monocle which is suspended in place by a fine metal chain attached to one earring and one eye brow ring. Between them, in glowing and floating letters, it spells 'Squidface'/ End.]

The scene that made me laugh is when Tsunami learns how to speak Aquatic and the very first thing she learns how to do is basically swear. Headcannon that squidface is the SeaWing swear that functionally means dickhead. Which I think fits Whirlpool well. I tried to make him as oily as possible. His ears normally droop under the weight of all the hoops. But he's so surprised that they're sticking up quite a bit. He also has some big ears for a SeaWing. All the better to put more hoops in. I may do a bit of a redesign at some point and give him gages because that would be sweet.

Love Tsunami. Next up is a scene that made me cry.

[dollypopup]

come over here and profound for me

-is officially completed!

Did you wish the show explored Pen and Colin's emotions in more depth? That Penelope and Eloise's friendship fallout was more tense- and the reconciliation more meaningful? That Polin's romance was a focal point that burned slowly as they fell deeper and deeper for each other? That Lady Whistledown had the narrative weight it was building toward? Were you, too, displeased with 'and then everybody clapped' endings and wanted a Polin honeymoon? Are you a fan of character growth? Accountability? Tender smut? Dorks in love? Reconciliation? Colin backstory and POV? Poetry? Love and Romance? Women treated as full people? Family feels? Angst? Polin as a team? Pen and Colin and Eloise and Marina all winning?

Come Over Here and Profound for Me! The fic one person left 75 anonymous hate comments on, and another said "I feel like I understand them in a new way, and I really wish your insight into the soul of each of them was reflected in the show. It made the reconciliations that much sweeter and the love deeper."

Snippet:

“Penelope! Pen! ” he called out, running and running, and just as she turned, he threw his arms about her. There, in full view of the ton, in bleary sunshine and in the eyes of those who were still mulling about, Lady Whistledown articles in their hands, he curled into her, breathed once more for the first time in what felt ages. “Pen.”

It took her a moment, but then she fully leaned upon him, exhaling as though she had not had the opportunity even a moment in their separation, and she melted into him. Slowly, as though to assure he was real, her hands came up to his back, gently grasping hold of him, disheveled as he was. “Colin,” she whispered, and he nuzzled his nose against her temple. “Oh, Co-”

“-lin Christopher Bridgerton!”

He nearly hissed when he felt Anthony grasping him by the collar with a yelp, scruffing him as though a stray cat and pulled him away. “In the middle of the street!? Miss Featherington, I apologize for my brother’s behavior.”

“Hey!” he protested, twisting about to see that familiar vein throbbing in his brother’s forehead.

“You’ve lost your wits! In broad daylight! Have you gone mad!?”

“Of course I have!” he yelled, just as Penelope herself proclaimed “Do not speak to him that way!” and the surprise of it left Anthony speechless. Colin’s entire body felt to bursting, all the relief, all the ache he had for her, all the tenderness intensified. “Did I not just tell you I love her? And here she is! For an entire day, I thought there was no future and now my future is before me- and you question if I have gone mad? After I watched the woman I adore be dragged off to a place I could never hope to reach her and now she has returned?”

Through the pulse pounding through his ears, drumming his body, he felt another hand upon him, a voice most dulcet sharpened. “I demand you release my intended this moment, Lord Bridgerton, or you shall see what true madness is from a woman displeased,” Penelope insisted, protective and deadly as she pulling him toward her, Anthony’s grip fully slackened, and the two of them leaning upon one another once more. 

read me

[asmodeauxx]

"tranny" is a slur against transfems, not transmascs. what a hurtful joke

But I'm a tranny what are you on about,,,,

Though in all seriousness, 'tranny' is a slur for all transgender individuals, not just transfems. It was commonly used for transgender women, but it doesn't mean it wasn't used for any and all other trans people in a derogatory way. And, I myself fall under the trans umbrella because I am genderfluid. I say it because I am a transgender individual. I understand the concern, but I am allowed to say it and use the word.

[maximaxstreasurebox]

back in business boiiisss (4.6 arle sq spoilers)

[lilisouless]

Jesper: you need to be more assertive, there is no such thing as too much confidence, you gotta stand up to the world and yell “I am Wylan Van Eck” Nono, more , say “I AM FUCKING WYLAN VAN ECK”

Wylan: isn’t that your job?

Jesper:

Jesper: maybe there is such a thing as too much confidence

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

Oh oh!!!!! Can you do prompts about "Language"!!!

Been wanting to write a language related fic for months but can't think of any cool ideas :(

Best regards,

@heroes-villains-side-blog

Ah, apologies for the delay, I’m not always online.

Anyway, let’s see what I can do:

Language

There’s yet another prophecy about doomsday, but it’s encrypted/in an ancient language. Time for Hero to ask for Renowned Linguist’s help once again, aka Villain under their secret identity.

Superhero claims that Citizen’s body language shows that they were lying during their interrogation. They’re not. They just really, really don’t want to be here.

Hero and Villain are the only two who can speak a dying dialect. Reluctantly, this brings them together.

Same idea, but they’re absolute nerds and speak Vulcan or Elvish fluently.

Hero&Sidekick (or Villain&Henchman) share a second language the other team don’t speak. It’s great to yell messages at your ally that your foes can’t understand.

Hero and Villain don’t speak the same language. They need Henchman/Sidekick to be a translator to understand each other. The translation might or might not be accurate.

Villain has captured someone who knows things, but speaks in a language they can’t understand. They use an online translator. Confusion ensues.

Villain has captured someone who knows things, but speaks in a language they can’t understand. They kidnap Sidekick to force them to be a translator. Sidekick tries to communicate with Citizen and find an escape plan together without getting caught.

Villain’s Evil lair has a great gadget able to detect any kind of human voice to detect any intrusion. Shame that Hero speaks ASL, then.

Once captured, Villain has a lot of four-letter words to say about the way the heroes treat them. Hero whumps them into watching their language.

I hope these can be useful to you! (I'll keep your other ask for later.)

*

More prompts like this under this tag.

Back to Hero x Villain Masterlist

[my-vanishing-777]

According to research by Action Aid, the rate of Vietnamese women who have been harassed, from vulgar words to rape, is 87%, a figure even higher than in India, Cambodia and Bangladesh.

[dailykugisaki]

Day 188 | id in alt

Daily dose of Kugisaki being real as fuck.

[finnpeach]

Hunt

(T/HRONE OF GLAS$ SPOILERS AHEAD! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ PAST Q/UEEN OF SHADOW$ BE WARNED!)

My love for R/owan is boundless, and the series would be infinitely better if he was sick.

This is a multi-part fic of A/elin and R/owan training on a mountain and YEAH! HE HAS A COLD!

not much sneezing yet but it will come I promise

likes comments reblogs always loved and giggled over <3

****

Aelin stalks through the underbrush with lethal silence. Leaves covered with dew from the early morning mist streak across her face, dotting her cheeks. Her prey, a mountain hare the size of her head, nibbles on the sparse grass a few yards away.

She knocks her arrow, slipping in a breath. She can’t wait to see the look on Rowan’s face when she brings back a hare this size. Slowly, she pulls the bowstring back, kissing against her face. The hare turns, startled, breaths coming fast. Now or never–

“hh’rZzSHHh’uh!” 

Aelin gasps at the sound that echoes around the mountain. It cracks like a whip, scaring even the crows nesting in trees. The hare takes off and she desperately releases the arrow after her prey. The point finds its home in the thick trunk of a tree rather than the soft neck of the hare.

There goes breakfast. Her stomach growls pitifully. Seething, she rises from the brush and goes to retrieve her arrow. 

Five minutes later, Aelin stalks back to the makeshift camp she and Rowan had assembled the night before. The Fae prince had forced her to run from the castle to these distant mountains, shifting in and out of her Fae form to master control, where he then informed her they would be camping for a week out in the elements. And she was to hunt their every meal in between training.

It was a pathetic time, especially with the rain that has settled across the mountain. Damp and cold to her bones, Aelin approaches their campsite. Rowan, appearing much drier than she, sits by the fire she had sparked earlier that morning. He looks oddly run down, like he hadn’t slept much the night before.

Aelin is sure he hadn’t. The mountains were too misty to sleep outside without waking up damp, so they had packed just one tent to keep their baggage light. Lying beside Rowan, last night she had been the private audience to his tossing and turning, grumbling, and finally his snoring. 

“You fucking bastard. You scared off breakfast,” she hisses as she approaches, throwing her bow and bundle of arrows down by the tent. Rowan does not look up from the dagger he cleans in his hands.

“And how – snf! – pray tell, did I scare breakfast from here?” He grumbles. Aelin catches the way he sniffles thickly, his nostrils twitching up with the force of it.

She drops her satchel, full of only a bundle of pathetic berries.  “You sneezed.” She tries not to give in the warmth that pools in her lower stomach at the memory of the sound. It’s the first time she had ever heard him sneeze, and she was not disappointed. “For someone so keen on silence, I expected you’d know how to sneeze more quietly.”

Rowan doesn’t even grace her taunting with a reply, or a snarl. He just continues rubbing a cloth down the length of his dagger. Strange. He must be feeling really tired if he didn’t bother to punish her for such a remark. 

She sits down across from the fire, on a log they’d rolled over so they didn’t sit on wet grass. Feigning interest in destemming the berries she’d picked, she studies him through the crackling flames. 

His white hair is loose around his shoulders, creating a curtain that shields the dark tattoo running along his tan face. The tips of his Fae ears poke out just behind the white strands. After weeks of training with him, sleeping out in the elements beside him, she’s learned that he prefers to tie his hair up. It’s so rare to see him with it down.

“More hand to hand combat training today, or magic training?” She asks, breaking the silence that is only marred by the crackling flames.

Rowan sets the dagger aside. “Your job was to hunt. And since you still haven’t caught anything, your job is still to hunt.” He settles his sharp green eyes on her, brows set. If he didn’t piss her off so much, she might actually tremble under his gaze.

She raises her palms in defeat. “Fine, fine. But if you sneeze and scare off my prey again, I won’t be sharing the catch with you.” Even if she’d very much like for him to sneeze again, she’d rather eat first.

In one swoop, she picks up her bow and arrows and satchel again before setting off. With her Fae senses, she could scent a herd of deer in the southwest. Now that would show Rowan. Perhaps she’d bring back a buck, and spear him with its antlers.

As soon as she leaves the camp, nearly out of earshot, she hears the same thunderstrike from before. Perhaps Rowan had been waiting for her to leave.

“hhzjHSHHhieWw!”

A shiver runs down her spine as more startled crows caw in the trees.

****

Two hours later, Aelin returns with a small doe slung across her shoulders.

It’s mid afternoon. She had been lucky a herd was still grazing so late in the morning down by the clearing. She’d been even luckier that Rowan had either gotten his sneezing under control, or learned how to be quiet, because nothing had startled her catch this time.

“Lunch,” she declares to Rowan, dropping the deer to the grass. He hasn’t moved from his spot by the fire. “Is served.”

“It was supposed to be– snf! Breakfast,” he mutters, reaching the dagger at his side from earlier. His voice sounds dulled, like he’s congested.

Aelin rolls her eyes. “Well, it’s not like you helped. And I got us a catch to last us days.” She pats the stomach of the doe proudly. It isn’t very old – there’s still a sprinkling of fawn spots across her back. Aelin feels a twang of guilt for not singling out an older one.

Rowan pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing through his mouth. Aelin hardly has time to prepare before he jerks down towards his crotch, a light mist spraying across his trousers.

“hiHh–... yHhZzSHhhyuu!” A familiar, rushing heat spreads through Aelin’s gut. She swallows, watching as he rubs his nose on his wrist and glares up at her. Is he going to get mad at her for his sneezing?

Rowan chooses not to comment on it, something Aelin is secretly grateful for. “You were– snf! instructed to catch something small. We’re moving camp this afternoon.” He angles the pommel of the dagger towards her.

“What?!”

“Rain is coming tonight and will flood this area. I told you this morning. And now you’ve wasted a young doe’s life.”

A flame of rage flickers to life inside her chest. This is all his fault. “Well, I wouldn’t have wasted jack-shit if you hadn’t ruined my catch earl–”

“Aelin,” he growls, a no-nonsense sound. The tips of his canines poke past his lips. Aelin shuts up immediately. 

He stands, crossing the camp in two strides, and shoves the pommel of the knife against her stomach. She glares beneath his gaze. “You missed the catch because you did not act fast enough. Now you can either carry the doe across the mountain, or… hhH—!” His breath snags, eyes looking off into the distance for a split second. Aelin’s heart hammers in her chest.

He quickly recovers and sniffs again, much to her disappointment, and focuses his gaze on her. “Or you can leave it and realise you wasted a young animal’s life for your pride.” 

Before she can retort, he turns on his heel and she offers a middle finger to his large, muscular back. 

As if sensing her, he says over his shoulder, “And– sNf!– pack up the tent.”