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#hot spring culture makes sense
mercurydancer · 2 years
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An Unexpected Chance Pt 12
On Circadian Rhythms and Sunshine
_
          Feral was on the softest bed he had ever known.
          Feral had been sleeping, curled up with his brothers, and the thought of that was still so amazing, still so new…Feral could not understand how that had happened, could not believe that this… It was true. All Feral had to do was feel the little life that was curled atop him and know it for true.
          Feral’s clan-pair was alive, and he was with him. Feral’s clan-pair was named Maul.
           It was a good name, a proud name, one that would serve his little brother well – and Feral had never thought that he would ever see him that little. He never believed that he would see him at all. The boy that had shared a womb with him…the one that he had been tied to had been taken… The severed bond within Feral’s mind, the one that ached in desperation, in longing for a person that Feral would never again be able to connect with had been part of the reason that Feral was inconsolable.
          When Feral had been younger it had ached…as an infant that ache had been so bad that he had been unable to be soothed. He did not understand why he hurt. He did not understand why his brother was not there.
          Feral sometimes thought of Savage trying to take care of him, trying to help a boy whose twin bond had been severed and believing that he would never be enough…
          Savage had been wrong, though. He had been enough. When Feral had grown and understood more of what he had lost, more of what he had hurt…
          There had been an empty space that would never be filled, but Feral had gotten used to it…
          Feral had tried to get used to it.
          Sometimes something would happen, and he would turn to a brother that had never been there, even now…something inside of him screaming… But it was never something that would happen and even now…
          Even now that twin-bond had not reformed. Even now his brother was here and yet…he was not in Feral’s mind where he belonged. But that did not matter in the face of the fact that his brother was here.
          His brother was here and Feral was sleeping with his little brother bundled upon his chest… Maul had been the youngest, Feral remembered, and it was something that…when he had seen Maul’s face in the holoimage, when he had seen the brother he had lost he had thought of lording it over him. He had thought of doing…so many things.
          Now… Feral would do so much with him, he was able to do so much with him, but that connection was still not there.
          It was worth it, however, Feral knew, it was worth it for the feeling of the small body curled up on his chest, the tiny breaths of air against his neck, the purr rumbling so hard in that tiny body that it nearly shook the life from him.
          Maul was alive, he was here, and he needed them…
          And he had freed them.
          Feral could still not believe it.
          He reached a slow hand out, careful, careful, and slowly ran his finger over a tiny cheek. It was hollower than it should be, holding that rawboned state of starvation that was always such an issue in the village, but he was somewhere…they were somewhere it was safe. They were somewhere they could begin to heal.
          The knowledge pounded in his head, sang in his breast, they were safe, they were safe, they were safe.
          Feral believed these people that had brought them here. Feral believed the ones that had given Maul this joy, this happiness even in the midst of what he knew to be sorrow that permeated this room.
          It was a balance that Feral had long grown familiar with, but it was one that was tipping further towards joy and happiness and had been for a while.
          Feral was glad.
          Savage mumbled quietly and Feral turned his head slightly, locking his horns with Savage’s, settling his brother’s rustling.
          Little Maul needed to sleep more yet, Feral could feel.
          For now, it was good enough to just watch him, to take in the slow rise and fall of that small chest, to take in the feel of his weight and his warmth, and the knowledge burning in his soul that Maul was alive.
          Maul was alive and he was safe.
          They were all safe.
_
          Maul woke slow.
          Soft and groggy, Maul blinked his eyes open hazily, for a moment not sure where he was. He lay there in the dark of a room that felt familiar in a way that the Holocrons that he had taken felt, in the way that the ship that he had entered felt. That Dark and yet not feeling that he knew was synonymous with him. But he had never been in this area before.
          There were posters above the bed he saw, ones that were of bands that he knew, and also a poster for a production of Macbeth. Maul had not been allowed to read that one, but he knew what it was for, knew who wrote it.
          Maul was staring around at a room that felt like and was unlike the one that he had been using. It was a room that felt and looked like more of his own.
          For a moment the feeling and the sights around him drove all else away, and then he slowly became aware of the fact that he was sleeping on something…that was moving.
          Maul remained still for a moment, fear rising in his breast, uncertainty beating within his heart, and then he heard a soft rumbling sound, gentle and slow, and felt his horns gently hooked by another’s. Maul closed his eyes as they slotted easily with his own, hearing the purring rumble that was deeper than Eeth’s, wilder than Agen’s. And then he realized that there were two. Two chests he was sleeping against, two people who he was cuddled between.
          Maul did not understand, for a moment so fuzzy, and then…and then…
          Ships over the Temple, Hondo…
          His brothers.
          Maul had brothers.
          His brothers were here.
          There was a soft sound as someone yawned, and he shifted, feeling a hand rest on his back, light, a feather-soft touch that firmed as Maul pressed closer to it. It curled around him gently, and he was pulled down closer, horns clicking as he rolled with the movement, his eyes closing as a nose finally pressed against his own.
          “Hello, little brother,” a deep voice rumbled, soft, and he opened his eyes to gold. “It is good to see you,” the voice of Savage rumbled softly, and Maul still…could not believe it.
          “Hello,” Maul breathed softly, and pulled back, only to have another pair of hands gently run over his side, pulling him into a hug, and he was staring into more gold, staring into the eyes of Feral, crinkled in a smile, and a kiss pressed to his cheek.
          “Hello, little brother,” Feral said. “How did you sleep?”
          “Well,” Maul said, and it was true. He was rested and he felt nice, no dreams haunting him, merely sleep. “Thank you. How did you sleep?”
          “Better than I have in years,” Feral said and Savage laughed aloud, gently hooking horns with Feral, before leaning forward and connecting with Maul as well. Maul grinned, hooked between the brothers, his brothers.
          “I can attest to this,” Savage said, his voice a low rumble. “He sleeps very poorly most of the time.”
          “You don’t sleep very well either,” Feral said, sniffing. “If you slept better I believe I would as well.”
          Savage rolled his eyes and Maul giggled, finally pulling back from the two of them. “I slept better than usual as well,” Maul said softly. “I usually…I have nightmares.”
          Savage and Feral looked at him and their brows creased, Savage running a thumb across his cheek. They were so tactile. There was so much gentle touch, so many little gestures of affection… If it wasn’t for the fact that they were so tactile with each other Maul would think…he would expect that it was because they were still seeing if he was real. Maul knew that this was the reason he kept touching, the reason he had his fingers wrapped around Savage’s thumb, the reason that he had hold of Feral’s sleeve.
          They were here. They were here, this was happening, he had brothers they were here.
“What burdens your soul so?” Savage asked softly.
          Maul…paused. He did not know what to say, what he could possibly explain, how he could ever…
          “I wasn’t always with the Jedi,” he finally said softly. “Before…before they took me in…before they found me…” Maul was quiet for a moment, “it is…hard to explain.” He said finally. “I know that it’s been…so many years, that I’m really so much older, but me, but I…to me it was months ago. Barely four months ago I was still with my Master, and he…” Maul hesitated. “He hurt me,” he breathed. “He…he wouldn’t touch me, and didn’t hug me, and didn’t feed me, and…and…” he trailed off, aware of the tears in his eyes and the… Arms were wrapping around him, pulling him close, tangling him with his brothers, and voices shushed him. “He did so much to me,” Maul breathed, “he lied to me, and he twisted me. He made the Dark scary, he was trying to make me into a weapon. There was a droid…and he had a stick, and he would hit me with it. He made me stalk it and it would hurt me and I…” he swallowed, “he had lightning…he could shoot lightning from his fingertips and he…if I did…if I…if I…”
          “I’ll kill him,” Savage rumbled and it was low and fierce and full of such hate, such utter rage, and Maul was very aware of the anger and the rising hatred that was bubbling within Feral, and he was held so tight, their arms so protective. But the words were in his mind and Maul was terrified, and softly, immediately,
          “No, no, you can’t! You can’t hurt him, you couldn’t hurt him…” Maul’s voice broke, “but he’s dead. He’s already dead, you can’t…” he closed his eyes. “He’d kill you. He’d kill you both and I’d lose you before I even got to meet you!” A sob escaped and Maul had not cried so much, never wailed as much in his life, desperation, and something else, something that felt like it was loosening inside of him. Like he was finally letting his guard down after so long…
          “Alright,” Savage said softly, “alright, I won’t…we won’t.”
          “We have you,” Feral said, “and we’re not…we’re not going anywhere, you hear me? You’re stuck with us. I…” Feral swallowed, “I’ve been missing you my entire life. I’ve been longing for my twin my entire life, and I finally have you.”
          “Mace said that I didn’t have brothers,” Maul breathed, “he said that he asked…Mother about it…and he knows when people lie…”
          “She did not entirely lie,” Feral said, his voice low, “we are half-brothers. Even us, even you and me…Sisters can bear two from two different donors, for the particular ritual that gave you your skin, that gave you your Dark…that is necessary.”
          “I am…the product of ritual?” Maul asked softly.
          “Yes,” Savage said. “But you are still our brother, even if we do not share a father.”
          “Savage and I do not even share a father,” Feral said with a slight shrug. “It is not uncommon among us.”
          Maul took that in for a moment and finally nodded slowly. “But we are brothers.”
          “We are,” Savage said. “I remember you when you were given to my arms. I remember your skin, the pattern of your horns, the feel of you against my chest.” Savage took him, lifting him, maneuvering him to lay against him, Maul curling up against him, lowering his head to Savage’s shoulder, his temple horn rising just above. “I trailed my thumb over your ears,” he said softly, following the motion, “uncurling them gently…” Maul closed his eyes, soothed by the voice rumbling within the chest he lay against, lulled by the gentle touch along his ear. “And I looked at you and knew you for my brother.”
          Maul lay there for a moment, so warm, so content, feeling that arm around him, feeling the two hearts that beat in a chest… And then Feral began pushing at him, gently, gently, Maul blinking, curling further back as Feral sprawled on top of Savage, his oldest brother letting out a grunt as Feral’s entire weight crushed him down.
          “And then of course he got me,” Feral grinned brightly at him as Maul raised his head to meet his face, “I’m a bit too big for this now, though.”
          “Get off, Feral,” Savage grumped and with a heave rose and rolled, Maul falling to the bed with a laugh, Feral bouncing right alongside him, giggling. “I did get him,” Savage said, smiling. “I felt you click in place in my mind…” he paused. “Losing you…” he paused. “I was so young…I was just…I was twelve. Twelve years of my life I was alone before I was blessed with the both of you…” Savage swallowed, staring into his eyes, “and not even a week later I could not even…I could not protect you. I could not stop him. I could not save you…” he shook his head, and Maul was aware of the tears, aware… “I was meant to protect you…and I failed.”
          “You could not have stopped my Master,” Maul said softly. “I do not…I don’t blame you,” Maul said. “I…” he paused, “if he had killed you both…because you would not let me go, I would have…I would…” Maul swallowed. And then Feral was there, Feral wrapping his arms around Maul and pulling Savage close, pressing his horns to them both.
          “We are here now,” he said, “we are here now, and you are here now…I have you both, I have you.”
          Maul sunk into it for a moment, basking, and then slowly beginning to pull away, wiping at his eyes. “Where are we?” he asked softly. “I don’t recognize the bedroom.”
          “It apparently used to be yours,” Savage said, sitting up on the bed and paying more attention to everything that surrounded them. He eyed the curtains then that they were pressed against and finally pressed the button to raise them. It happened slow, gradually rising up and up to fill their small space with the light of a setting sun. Maul’s breath caught in his chest, hearing a similar sound from the other two, all of them straightening up, staring out.
          “Oh,” Feral breathed softly, “oh it’s beautiful…”
          “It’s so…different,” Savage said, “but it is so close all the same. Our sun…was never as bright as this.”
          “Come,” Maul said softly, sliding off the bed and grabbing their hands, immediately dragging them out of the bedroom, hoping…
          Yes.
          There was a massive window…bigger than the one that was in the room Maul had been sharing with Mace, pointing towards the setting sun.
          Maul stared with wide eyes, letting go of Savage and Feral, barely aware of how the two of them stepped with him towards the window, staring in silence. The sight of the speeders flitting past, reflecting gold and red, sparks in the gathering dark. They watched as purple overtook it slow, deepening to dark…
          The rain would come soon.
          The realization of how long Maul had been sleeping slowly dawned on him, and he looked back to Savage and Feral, the two of them sitting down on either side of him, their legs crossed, expressions of such awe on their faces…
          “We slept late,” Maul said softly, frowning.
          “I was going to say we woke up a bit early, really,” Feral said, stretching. “I could have used a couple more hours…” he paused. “If it wasn’t for the beauty of that.”
          Maul took that in for a moment and then turned to look at them. “We truly are meant to be nocturnal?”
          The reaction to that question was not quite what he was expecting.
          Savage and Feral both looked at him with something like confusion, like…how could he ask that, how could he think otherwise…
          “Yes,” Savage said slowly. “With a normal sleeping schedule, we rise a bit after the setting sun, and will go to bed when it is rising.”
          Maul took that in for a moment, something twisting in his chest, “so many of my friends are diurnal though,” he said softly. “I don’t want…”
          There was a nod from Savage, thoughtful, looking to his brother. “We could of course adjust to more naps?”
          “That might work,” Feral said with a nod. “Though we shouldn’t be pushing your sleep schedule too much yet,” he said, and there was concern in his eyes. “You’re so little yet, you need your sleep to grow.” And then, the start of a tease on his face, in his voice, “you seem like you would need as much rest as possible.”
          Maul sniffed, tilting his chin up which started the two of them laughing.
          “Peace little brother,” Feral said, smiling, “it is not a bad thing to need rest. Nor is it a bad thing to want to be with your friends.” He frowned. “Is diurnal a common circadian rhythm?”
          Maul hesitated. “I don’t know,” he said finally, blinking. “Mace has been working towards having me sleep more during the day, and I’ve been trying…” he paused, “my Master didn’t let me sleep when I needed to…” he said softly.
          “Well,” Feral said, scooping him up, “you have us now.” He grinned, and Maul found himself smiling back. “Will you show us around?”
          “Yes,” Maul said, nodding, “but I think we should…we should say something to Mace first.”
          “He is the one that has been taking care of you, correct?” Savage asked softly.
          “Yes,” Maul nodded, “but…but they all have. Tiq has been…he’s been helping me with my nightmares, and Ahsoka took me hunting, and…”
          “Who is Ahsoka?”
          “She’s a Togruta,” Maul said, “she’s my friend.”
          “She?” Feral repeated softly, and the worry and the quiet uncertainty that burned…
          Maul hooked his horns with Feral’s, “She,” he repeated softly. “And she’s nice to me. She’d never hurt me. She took me hunting because I lost a tooth.” He opened his mouth wide, let Feral see, listening to his soft exclamation of amazement, hearing Savage join. “And a Togruta…goes hunting and makes their first kill after they lose their first tooth! She…she shared her culture with me…because I didn’t know my own…”
          There was a silence after that proclamation, and Maul watched as Feral’s face bloomed in a wide smile, and he knocked his horns into Maul’s.
          “Well then,” he said softly, “I think we ought to find her and say thank you.”
          “She is your friend, Maul?” Savage asked.
          “Yes,” Maul nodded. “I let her touch my toe beans.” He held his foot out towards Savage who beamed, finally laughing aloud.
          “Did you now?” he asked, “did she wish to?”
          “She finds them very cute,” Maul nodded. “Most sentients I’ve talked to think they’re cute,” he said. “That’s why I let Hondo touch them.”
          “It did work,” Feral laughed, “and they are very cute,” he took Maul’s foot in his hand gently and squished. “Oh, I love kitten feet,” he mumbled briefly, leaning Maul back on his arm, shifting him so he was cradled against his chest, able to look at Maul’s feet properly. Maul rolled his eyes. Feral laughed at him.
          Savage was peering over, and Maul sighed, sticking out his other foot, Savage laughing aloud as he caught it, squeezing it gentle. “They are very good toe pads. They seem healthy and well taken care of.”
          Maul smiled, without mentioning the fact that they had not been earlier. “Thank you,” Maul said primly, “will you put me down now?” he asked.
          “Of course,” Feral agreed, and lowered him to the ground. “Shall we talk to Mace, then and then find Ahsoka?”
          “Yes,” Maul agreed. “Where are we?”
          “We are right next door to him,” Feral smiled, “he’s on that side.”
          “You apparently did not move very far,” Savage smiled.
          Maul nodded and walked out into the hallway, his brothers following him. They paused at the threshold, watching as the door before them opened and Tiq stepped out.
          He looked…tired, disheveled, his robes on, but just slightly crooked, a hand rubbing at his eyes, which blinked at them blearily for a moment, before recognition spread and he smiled. It was a very soft smile, almost lopsided, but he nodded his head. “Hello,” he said, “it is good to see you.”
          “Are you okay, Tiq?” Maul asked, “do you need to go to bed?”
          “Hmm?” Tiq asked, blinking, “oh, no, I’m working on adjusting my sleep schedule, if you will recall,” he smiled, and it was gentle. “You are my patient, yes? It is my job as your Healer to be accessible. Usually, I would be perfectly capable of waking up like this, I have gotten used to it before. It is merely…my sunlamp bulb has died, and I am unable to get my blood up…”
          “You need to bask!” Maul exclaimed, realization buzzing in his skull. “You’re cold-blooded!”
          “Yes, that is correct, you remembered,” Tiq smiled. “But what that means is I have to leave the Temple. There’s technically one…inside of it,” he huffed, “but there’s a spa that’s simply better.”
          There was a chime of a comm alerting and Tiq blinked, before immediately opening it. Maul narrowed his eyes at the image that flickered over the comm, taking in the sight of a pair of lizards…one of them with a very poorly cropped image of a lothcat head overtop one of the lizard’s heads, the two of them holding hands, the words ‘what if we sat on a warm rock to raise our body temperatures and optimize our vitamin D levels together~’ Tiq snorted, a startlingly loud and yet decidedly amusing sound, immediately looking around. “Alright, Agen, where are you at? You can come, you nosy Zabrak.”
          “YES!”
          Maul watched as Agen walked forward from where he had paused on the other side of the hall, beaming, putting his comm in his robes and Tiq made another wheezing sound, “did you seriously stand there and look for those images and slap them together as soon as you heard that I was planning on basking outside of the Temple?”
          “Maybe~” Agen hummed noncommittally, grinning, before turning to look at them. “Hello,” he said, “would you like to come?”
          “Agen, that’s pushy,” Tiq said, his voice low, the slight slur to his words deepening as he tried to hush himself. “You don’t know if they…would find it rude. Or…” he trailed off.
          “It’s alright, Tiq,” Agen said, easily, “I have it.”
          “You have…nothing,” Tiq retorted.
          “I’m going to get it,” Agen said, grinning, “how are you three, did you sleep well?”
          “Yes,” Feral said, his voice slow, amusement very clear in his face however, smiling at Tiq, and then at Agen. “Rodians are…often like this if they cannot bask?”
          “Yes,” Agen laughed. “But we take care of them,” he nodded. “And by we I tend to mean Zabraks. We have a longstanding agreement with Rodians and a lot of shared spaces. You see, we both like heat, and we both like bright sun. Iridonia is a hot spring culture, we are communal bathers in a similar way to Rodians being communal baskers. I do not know if Nightbrothers are the same, but if you would like…?”
          “You do follow communal bathing practices,” Savage said, and his voice was…that was relief there. Relief and something else, something close to…longing?
          “Yes,” Agen said, “the density being what it is…” he paused. “Is it the same for you?”
          “It is!” Feral said, “and if…if you truly are offering, then I would…” he paused, “oh I would love to, please. Would we be able to take Maul?”
          “Absolutely,” Agen said with a nod, “we often take our kittens to the same places. I have…neither Eeth nor I ever took Maul to a communal bath,” he said softly. “We were uncertain if it was practiced in your culture, and it sometimes felt…” he paused. “I did not know. I did not want to overstep and I did not want to expose him to anything that…that was not accepted.”
          Savage took a step forward, taking his hand, and softly, his voice so firm, and yet so tight all at once, “Thank you…for caring. For doing your best. I understand you…were one of the ones that was teaching Maul?”
          “Yes,” Agen said, “Eeth as well, who was my Mentor…” he paused, “would you mind if we invited him?” he asked, looking to Tiq as well as the others.
          “Not at all,” Tiq answered, waving a hand. “The more the merrier.”
          “He should be getting up by now,” Agen noted quietly, taking his comm out, looking to Savage and Feral and Maul for confirmation. Savage and Feral both nodded their heads, indicating for him to call. There was a pause as the comm buzzed and finally.
          “I am awake, what is it,” Eeth asked, voice rumbling and low.
          “We’re taking the Nightbrothers to bask at The Spot,” Agen said, “get out here now, you’re coming.”
          “Nightbrothers?” Eeth asked, and then there was a brief, “OH SHIT,” the sound of someone falling out of bed and then, “I’m coming out, give me a minute!”
          Agen rolled his eyes, clicking the comm closed, but there was fondness in his expression. “He’s usually more on the ball,” Agen laughed, “we’ve been forced to adopt to a rather…different circadian rhythm.”
          “It is not because of us, is it?” Feral asked, his voice soft.
          “Oh no,” Agen shook his head, “some of us like Tiq here has,” he put his arm around the Rodian who was slumping slightly, Tiq’s head lulling on his shoulder, “has been forced to be a bit drastic in his change, but it is not usually like this. Once his new sunlamp bulb arrives he will be able to be up and about in no time. Eeth and I are crepuscular. We are active in evenings and mornings if given the opportunity, though neither of us have a problem adopting to a later time, usually. Earlier is sometimes difficult, and that is what has been happening recently, at least for Eeth. He is on the Council, you see, and they’ve got a lot of meetings. A lot of them have been running into times when he should be sleeping…”
          There was a pause and then a door opened, Eeth walking out looking absolutely resplendent. Maul found himself unable to help the giggle that left him.
          “What are you laughing at, little Mauler?” Eeth asked him, eyes narrowing in mock annoyance, amusement burning bright in the Force.
          “Little Mauler?” Savage repeated, delight in his voice, “I might have to steal that…”
          “You would be welcome to it and many more,” Eeth said. “Sabé is rather fond of calling him bean.”
          “Bean?”
          “Sabé?”
          “For toe beans,” Tiq giggled.
          Savage and Feral both laughed aloud, even as Maul pouted up at them. That seemed to just make them laugh harder.
          “Sabé is the once-handmaiden of a Senator that Maul is very close to,” Agen said. “Padmé Amidala was the Queen of Naboo, and is also and was also Maul’s very best friend. If you want stories about Maul, she is absolutely the one to talk to.”
          “The Queen?”
          “She was…” Feral hesitated, and Maul was unprepared for the way that Savage’s hand lowered to his head, the way it threaded through his horns, while also backing Maul towards him. “Maul was not…he was not promised…or…?”
          “No!” the chorus of voices was loud and sudden, and there was genuine dismay on their faces. “Oh, no,” Tiq said, “no, no, Padmé…saw Maul as an equal, as a good friend, someone whose opinion and thoughts and person she respected. There was never a relationship between them. They were…”
          “They were friends,” Agen said, and there was something so final in it. “They would visit each other and talk about so many things. There was never anything between them.”
          “Maul was never going to be and will never be her consort,” Eeth said softly. “Your brother was safer with her than he was with many others, and she was safe with him. They are still safe with each other, there is no harm done, and there will be no harm done.”
          “They took me swimming,” Maul said, looking up at them. “They took me swimming and I was covered, and they gave me space and they were so…they’re always so nice to me. They massaged my feet and hands and filed my horns for me,” he said, touching the hand that was still holding his horns. “I was safe with them. They never scared me.”
          There was a pause and then Savage finally nodded slowly, the tension in his grip fading. “Thank you,” he said, “I…I would meet her…”
          “I would as well,” Feral said, “their job on his horns is immaculate,” Feral grinned, hooking the back of Maul’s horn and shaking his head fondly as Savage let go. Maul gripped Feral’s hand and smiled up at him.
          “You will get the opportunity soon, I am sure,” Eeth said, “she has been a very frequent sight at this Temple recently. She claimed Maul as her best friend once again, so she has been doing her best to visit regularly.”
          “Then I shall look forward to meeting her,” Savage said.
          “Good,” Agen grinned, “now that this is settled we have to get this one into some sun lamps.” He hoisted Tiq up slightly from where he had obviously fallen asleep against his shoulder, letting out a rattling snore. Agen laughed aloud, hoisting Tiq up into a fireman’s carry. “Come on,” he said, “let’s get a ride.”
          They exited the Temple together, Maul holding Feral and Savage’s hands, the brothers sometimes lifting him into the air, swinging him high and then carefully depositing him to earth again. Maul had to work hard at keeping quiet because there were others that were still sleeping like Tiq was meant to. Maul’s brothers delighted in doing it suddenly, trying to catch him off-guard.
          But Maul was used to holding his tongue and did so, beaming all the while.
          Maul knew when to be quiet.
          Savage finally picked him all the way up, Maul balling himself up reflexively, stomach feeling like it had been left on the ground below as Savage lifted him high overhead, before finally putting him on his shoulders. Maul held onto his horns, breathless and giddy with the sensation buzzing through his limbs, laughter caught behind his teeth. It was the nicest thing to hold back.
          Feral opened the Temple doors so Agen could carry Tiq out, delight burning in his expression as Agen finally lowered Tiq on the steps. Tiq gave a brief sound of surprise, realized where he was, and patted Agen on the cheek.
“Thank you,” he said, and then slumped up against Agen’s side again.
Agen laughed, the sound free and delighted now that they were no longer in any danger of waking anyone up.
“Do not laugh at me, you are warm,” Tiq said, his eyes narrowed, gaze unsteady. “It is not my fault you make a good basking rock.”
Agen laughed harder, and finally slung his arm around Tiq’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “You are right, friend, here, let me help until we get to the spa. It is chilly out here tonight!”
Eeth pulled his comm out and flicked through some contacts before he made a pleased sound, sending out a transmission, waiting for a reply. “Five minutes,” he finally said, looking to them with a smile on his face.
          “Where are we going?” Maul asked. “What is a communal…what is it?”
          “It is a cultural…bathing habit,” Tiq said, “or basking habit in my case.” He rubbed his face.
          “Shh,” Agen said, laughing, “you’re sleepy.”
          “I am not too sleepy to explain!” Tiq said, poking Agen’s cheek. “You are so mean to me, I am sleepy, not…not…oh. What are words.”
          “Go to bed, Tiq, we’ll wake you when we’re there,” Agen laughed aloud, “Eeth, sandwich him.”
          “No, no, cheating! Cheating,” Tiq called out as Eeth sat down on the other side of the Rodian, throwing his arm across Tiq’s other side. “You are…the worst…” he mumbled, snuggling down between the two of them, his eyes half-lidded. And then finally fell asleep.
          Maul could not stop giggling, hands pressed to his mouth, trying to bite it back but it was so…funny. He was so happy, his brothers were here, and he had never seen Tiq like this. He hadn’t realized how important basking was to the cold-blooded, and wondered whether or not Tiq would remember this later. He wondered how long it would take for him to properly warm up, and if that meant he would be more awake and aware. Maul did not remember being that tired, and certainly not given that sort of treatment when he had been so tired he didn’t think he could walk straight.
          But it was nice to see it, nice to know that they cared enough about each other to take care of each other, even with their biological quirks, but that once again returned him to, “Cultural bathing practice?”
          “Yes,” Feral said, reaching up to tug at Maul’s horn. “It is born of necessity, yes?” he said, “Dathomir is dangerous, and bathing is such a vulnerable position to be in. It is common to bathe together. You take care of your kittens this way, teach them how to clean themselves, and help your brothers when needed. It is…bonding through grooming, I suppose, if you wish to break it down this way.”
          Maul was quiet for a moment, taking this in. “You would…wash me?”
          There was a pause, Savage and Feral both quiet, before Savage carefully picked him off of his shoulders and placed him on the step, kneeling down to face him directly, Feral as well.
          “I…” Savage paused, “would not do anything you are not comfortable with.” Savage stated. “I recognize…you have not grown up in this way. You would not be used to this at all, and I would not want to touch you in any way you are not interested in.”
          “You are at the age where we would stop at your waist,” Feral said, “you would be trusted to wash yourself, and if you needed it we would help, but you do not have to at all.”
          “I still wash this one’s ears and his back,” Savage grinned, nudging Feral. “He has a habit of forgetting.”
          Feral rolled his eyes hugely and Maul smothered a laugh, “He is not wrong,” Feral finally said with a grin and Maul laughed openly. “But it is…a cultural practice that you have not…grown up in, and we do recognize that.”
          Maul took that in for a moment, so quiet, so still, “you are…not disappointed in me?” he asked softly.
          “No,” Savage said immediately, taking his hand. “No, no, never.”
          “Not in a million years,” Feral said, taking Maul’s other hand.
          “We are…” Savage was quiet for a moment, “you are not the first brother to be taken. You are not the first that is unfamiliar with our ways. But that is okay. You are loved all the same. If you do not wish to follow some of our practices then this is okay. You are okay.”
          “You are always okay,” Feral echoed softly, “and you are always loved.”
          “But you don’t even know me?” Maul managed, something caught in his chest.
          Feral was quiet for a moment and softly, so softly, “I have been wanting to meet you my entire life. You are right in that I do not know you half as well as I would wish…but for what I do know, for what you have done…what you gave up, the pieces I have seen…how can you not be everything I have ever dreamed of and more?”
          “How can we not love you, Maul?” Savage asked, “how can we not love the brother that we thought we would never see again? How can we not love the brother that freed us?”
          Maul did not understand, something tight and something hot and something solid in his chest, rising up in his throat, and something so… Maul felt a sob shake loose, followed by another, his hands rising up to his face, broken and shattered and something so… Savage pulled him close, Feral held him tight, and they hushed him, gentle, gentle.
          “You don’t…” he swallowed, “you don’t owe me.”
          “No,” Savage said softly, “we do not,” he agreed, “but that does not mean I cannot see a sacrifice made, all of the work that you put into it, and not appreciate it for what it was. And even if I never meet the version of my brother that did this…even if I never do, meeting you, knowing you is enough. Because you are still here.” He pressed a hand to Maul’s chest – to the heart of his hearts. “And you yourself are worth knowing.”
          “There is no obligation,” Feral smiled, “there is just you and me and Savage, and that is enough.”
            Maul wept.
          And when his tears were dry he was still held between two brothers that he would have never looked for and never knew could be found.
          It was good.
          He was also aware in that moment that Eeth and Agen had taken Tiq further away from them, giving them as much privacy as possible while they still waited for their transport. The fondness that swelled in his chest was almost enough to bring more tears to his eyes, awash in too many feelings and feeling entirely too small to hold them all.
          It was not something that he often experienced, but it was good.
          It was good and Maul was happy.
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headspace-hotel · 10 months
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I am a dedicated water enjoyer but i have such a hard time believing that the "recommended" amount of water you are supposed to drink per day is legit ngl
According to google you're "supposed" to drink 125 ounces of water per day (almost a gallon). (I'm tempted to call this bullshit even just based on the fact that it's just one of several different answers.) At what point in the evolution of our species would this have been possible, especially in hot environments where you're out sweating in the sun and would need even more water?
Like okay, for one thing, drinking water by lapping it up or with your hands makes it a lot more time consuming to ingest a significant quantity of water. Furthermore, drinking from stagnant pools will give you illnesses that will kill you, and clean springs and mountain streams aren't exactly everywhere.
Did hunter-gatherers that spent their days tracking large game stop 8 times a day to guzzle down water? How did they have the fucking time to do this? Where were they getting it? Were they lugging gallons of water with them all the time in animal skin bags or something? Could they drink 4 standard water bottles' worth of water in one go whenever they found a water source? A lot of springs don't even produce water that fast??
Humans have lived in literal deserts for thousands of years!! Indoor plumbing is a new thing! Our culture is so water-centric that "around the water cooler" is slang for a casual social situation at work, most buildings have fountains specifically for dispensing drinking water, lobbies and hotels everywhere have vending machines that dispense beverages, and an important form of self-expression in public is carrying large, decorated water bottles. And yet somehow we're all chronically dehydrated and should be drinking more water??
Why would evolution adapt us to require more water than thirst can or will signal us to drink, anyway? Isn't that the reason thirst exists? 
(Also, has anyone who makes this shit up ever tried to drink that much water?? I used to drink 32 ounces of water over a 2 hour period, and I needed to go to the bathroom every 10-20 minutes to avoid pissing myself, like I would be in pain within minutes. If my body is getting rid of such insane quantities of water that my piss is basically water and I'm going to the bathroom every 20 minutes, that seems like a clear sign that my body does not want to have so much water in it.)
But I digress. At what point in time before the modern day would it have been possible for a human to ingest 8 glasses of water every day or 120 ounces or whatever is supposedly ideal??? If "dehydration" is the default state and has been for millions of years what does "dehydration" even MEAN?? Make it make sense...
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athena-the-writer · 1 year
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Slight smut in a way where Kratos finds a Female reader in the woods while traveling in a pond or hot spring and he kind of lingers for just a bit and the reader 'senses him' and invites him in. He asks her about her powers or how she was able to tell and the reader confesses to having abilities to sense not only people but their powers and emotions on well. You can decide where this leads
-🕸
Warnings: sex, outdoor/public sex, casual sex (?), strangers to lovers kind of like a one night stand (OR IS IT????), some kind of dirty talk (??), language, sexual sarcasm….I made that up thats not a word
Note: I tried to look for any accurate Norse mythical creatures (I.e fairies, river nymphs) but I didn’t find any that were accurate to their history or culture so I just kinda made one up. Also, I make a lot of these fics without Atreus just with respect to the original plot and their story. However future works will include them.
Genre: smut, female reader
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It was an autumn afternoon, and the forest was full of orange, red, and yellow leaves. They painted the skies and the ground with the change in seasons. Kratos was out for a hunt while and some firewood with his hunt of 2 deer. This hunt would provide him food for about a months worth if he rations them out correctly. No matter how much of a warrior he was, he still needed food and water, and at the moment he needed a drink quickly.
He found a small pond, it was small enough to not have any dangers but big enough to have fresh water, it even had a small waterfall on one side. As he took a drink he made sure to stay aware of his surroundings, as he filled a vase of water to take back with him he had noticed something- someone….
He carefully and quietly stood up to have a better look. The figure was underneath the waterfall, letting the water run over their head. As the figure turns the silhouette of breasts, a feminine figure comes into view. He lowers his guard just a bit but continues to watch and walk away if they had any other plans. Your hands trail from the threads of your hair down your body, cupping your breasts, down your sides, almost seductively.. almost as if you knew he was watching.
"if you're going to watch me, you should at least come and join me," you say over your shoulder. He said nothing and still stood his ground. You sink back into the water of the pond and swim over in his direction. Your shoulders and just the top of your breasts are above the water as you look up at him from the water. You gave a sweet and innocent yet scandalous smile
“And just what or who are you?” He asks
“That’s a good question…I am Y/N and I don’t know exactly myself” you chuckle “ever since I was young I was able to sense the power and emotions of others. Particularly those who hold tremendous power. And you are not short of powerful.” You smirk at him “now come and join me because I can also sense emotions such as sadness, anger, happiness….arousal…” it was true.
You were never explained the nature of your powers or where they come from. You don’t even know if you were some mystical creature or a god or a witch. However, your powers came in handy and you never complained of the and used them to your advantage. In both survival and everyday living and travel. You turn and head back into the waterfall where you let the water cascade over your body again. If he wanted to join you he could if not then do long to him.
Kratos was about to leave but after a long journey, he said to Hell with it and stripped himself of his clothes, and stepped into the pond. The water was refreshing but not too cold and very relaxing after a long he’d journey on foot. You smirk to yourself and turn to face him but stay in your spot
“So stranger tell me about yourself?” You tilt your head wanting to know more about the man with the strange tattoo.
“I simply travel for my survival. Gather food and resources.” He said simply
“Oh come on, there should be more to a god such as yourself.” You were that good huh, you already knew he was a god. “A god from another land for that matter as well. I’ve run into many from other lands but there is something different about you. What’s your name?”
“Kratos…I come from a land far from here and I have left my past behind me.”
“Hm, well I’m sure you had good reason to leave just be careful with the other gods and beasts you may run into here”
“Other than yourself?” He remarks
“He has a sense of humor does he?” You chuckle coming closer to him “you are a strange one I must say. You’re very calm yet tense but also something else… something passionate, lustful yet, deprived.”
You approach him slowly and settle in front of him “tell me are there any limits? Boundaries or desires…Kratos?” You ask
“may I touch you?” You ask as your hand haves closer to his shoulder
“Mmm” he hums and you take it as a good sign to touch him. You lay your hand against his skin. His skin was rough possibly from the years of travel and training..possibly war. His form was also hard and well sculpted, it was difficult not to stare or to keep touching him. Your hand caresses his shoulder to try and sense a deeper feeling of any kind of emotion from him. Even in the slightest, you had felt a sliver of grief even sadness in the stoic man. You wondered just what he had been through, where he came from who he was before this moment….
“Look you can probably tell what I’m going for here but I don’t know if you’re going for the same thing. I could make this a night for you to forget your anger, and regret any negative thoughts you have, even for a moment.”
“….” He says nothing as he pulls you into his side causing you to quietly yelp “I will entertain this for the night but know this may be the first and last time you see me.” He said in a serious tone
"There's first and last for everything...isn't there?" you ask coming as close as possible to straddle his lap. You guide his hands to run from your thighs, up to your hips, your waist and to come and cup your breasts. His hands instinctively give them a squeeze. One of his hands wraps around your waist to come flush against his body.
"Have you-"
"Had sex? Yes. You don't have to treat me like a delicate flower." you smirk at him. Turning around your straddle him backward lifting your ass slightly out of the water. Slowly you lower yourself onto his large cock.
Gods it felt amazing. The slight sting of being stretched, being filled up... you had never met before, and yet, he fit nearly perfectly.
"Ah, Kratos! Damn ...you feel so good" After sitting down until you were full to the brim. His low grunts of pleasure sent a shiver up your spine. His hands crawl their way up your body to squeeze your breasts. He brings your back flush against his chest as he thrusts up into you. Your wet skin is exposed to the cold night air but in contrast to his body heat against your back, it was just a whole new sensation.
(smash the O button)
"Mmm, so...so big" you moan into his ear seductively. The man of very few words flips you over to have you lean over the edge of the pond. He finds a steady pace, rough yet not enough to break you. Not much was said by the stoic god, but his breathing and grunts were enough to know what he was feeling
"Oh, Kratos! Right there!" you moan as you ride him back. His rough hands grip your hands keeping you in rhythm with his strokes. As for Kratos, it had been a while since he had been intimate with someone. This felt familiar but also totally unique. You tighten around him perfectly and take him with ease. This only made him much more aroused and nearly ready to finish.
"You know...I can tell you're strong. What if you could-ah!" you were suddenly lifted into the air and held up with ease by the god.
His cock was still buried deep inside. This new angle made you meet your end within 2 strokes. “Mmm, oh gods…that was…” Kratos was not done. Not yet
He kept pumping you up and down his shafts you felt yourself become overstimulated but you just felt too good to even consider wanting to stop. He filled you just so perfectly
“Ah! R-right there Kratos! Ah!” You whimper out as your head falls back. His lips come and meet your hard buds. His tongue working magic on the sensitive buds. His beard slightly scratching your skip as he sucked your nipples. You begin to feel him pulse inside of you
“I won’t-“
“No.” You interrupt him “Do it inside please”you felt your second wave coming on and it was just as strong as the last one
“Oh Kratos! Please cum! Cum inside me!” You cry out feeling the knot in your stomach tightening “oh! yes! AH right there!” You cry out as you both finally reach your highs together. He sits down in the pond once again with you still on him. He slips out almost agonizingly slowly. You guess the rumors were true about gods really having it all.
“Wow…that was…amazing…” you pant “what about you? Did you like it?”
“..it was…enjoyable” he says letting his head rest back just bit but staying guarded as usual
“Will I ever see you again?” You ask as you try to meet his eyes however he kept them in the water. It’s not that he wasn’t interested in talking. However he was on a long journey.
“Perhaps you will. The chances are still low.” He answered gruffly
“That’s good enough me” you smirk as you finally climb off his lap. You could already tell you’d be sore by the next day. “We’ll being the god you are based on your demeanor you’re probably gonna leave huh? Not even wait until morning” you chuckle already reading him well enough.
“Yes” he said not even trying to hide his answer “the longer I stay, the further behind j will be” he said starting the stand to get out of the pond. He gets dressed and you couldn’t help but stare and admire him for all he is
“We’ll this sexual experience has left a mark on this pond kratos.”
“Hm” he grunts as belts and ropes are heard.
“…you know maybe I could-“ you turn to tell him something and the man was gone. How could someone of his size be so quiet and fast??? However he did leave behind a cloak of fur for you to wear when you came out.
You were fully aware this was a sexual encounter and most likely would never meet against. Yet this was such a nice touch you couldn’t help but hope to see him again ones day.
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survivalove · 5 months
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Katara the selfcare queen
Every canon instance or mention (that i can rmr) of Katara indulging in selfcare in the middle of a war because I find it quite amusing yet fascinating.
I may or may not have made a post like this before but I wanted to expand on it.
1. Skincare routine
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In 1x14, The Fortuneteller, Katara reveals she has a special seaweed lotion that she carries with her for soft skin. (Avatar Extras also made a point of saying that it smells…?) She even offers to get Aunt Wu some, as if she has extra. So my question is, who is this plug that she gets her steady supply of seaweed lotion from? 😭
Real-life: Seaweed has been used in skincare for thousands of years, first recorded in ancient Chile. Nowadays, seaweed extract is pretty common in skincare products especially from emerging brands in Nunavik and Iqaluit, Canada.
My headcanon: This is probably a recipe Katara picked up from the older women of her tribe, so she just plucks some seaweed whenever the gaang stops by a body of water. And she definitely makes it in cute glass jars and shares it with her fellow healers in the Republic City Hospital ✨selfcare queen✨
2. Spa Day
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I just find this funny because when and how did she even find this spa? How long has she been going by herself? Look how comfortable she is like dhjfjcd she’s definitely a regular and they all know her.
Real-life: Saunas are pretty modern, starting up in Finland around 1112. (In canon, I think a firebender and a waterbender run a sauna in Republic City so hey.) Mudbaths on the other hand have been around for centuries and people have been doing it at any naturally occurring hot spring they can found. I don’t even have to tell you about massages so
My headcanon: Katara always knows where the spas and selfcare places are wherever they go. I definitely think she scooped up some stuff at the perfume abbey in season 1 (because she’s a kleptomaniac). I also headcanon she would have a spa setup in the back of Republic City Hospital because selfcare is healthcare too. Also, Aang gives her massages at home and he’s surprisingly good at it, but, Katara sucks at massages and Aang never lets her do it to him after that one time 💀
3. Yoga
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In 3x11, Nightmares & Daydreams, Katara teaches Aang yoga to de-stress in a hot spring. My thing is, when did she learn about yoga and how often does she do it? We needed the Katara yoga mini shorts special. The kids would’ve loved it.
Real life: Yoga originating from ancient India is practised in a variety of forms in Hinduism, Jainism and Buddhism. The poses they do are the Upward Salute and the Wide Legged Forward Bend.
My headcanon: I imagine Katara must have read about this at the Air Nomad Section of the Spirit Library, given the cultural heritage. Knowing her she found a yoga scroll and swiped it (can you say klepto?). This is another selfcare thing she does with Aang because it’s his culture! They do it every Saturday until he starts complaining about his old bones 😅
4. Hair care
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Katara also wears a special cap on her head when doing yoga which I assume is to protect her hair from the steam 🤔 I just found it very interesting since we hardly see her hair covered. Then I also realized Katara is the only character shown actually combing her hair and styling it like 4 times: from the bun-braid, to the formal earth kingdom look, to her fire nation look and finally the bun with her hair out.
Real life: I typed so many things and I finally found something similar called a chinoiserie satin skull cap? (sorry pic limit). It’s similar in design and even has a tassel like Katara’s. Focusing on her hairstyles, the signature “hair loopies” are actually based on a traditional Inuit style known as qilliqti and her earth kingdom look is based on a traditional Manchurian style called liangbatou.
My headcanon: Like Katara’s mysterious seaweed lotion recipe, she probably makes several haircare products for herself, and has a major hair routine. So, it would make sense she wears protective caps from time to time. I also think both Hama and Katara are tied to the myth of Senna, the Inuit sea goddess, through the comb Katara uses which I headcanon is the identical comb Hama had in her home (again klepto).
If there’s any more selfcare moments I left out, please feel free to share or reply with your own Katara ✨selfcare queen✨ headcanons!
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little-golden-age · 1 year
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Double-Take | Bucky Barnes
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DOUBLE TAKE📸 Photographer!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Your photographer boyfriend Bucky watches you doing your yoga routine one morning and gets ✨inspired✨
Word Count: ~1,800
Warnings: smut 18+ (minors DNI), Insatiable Bucky, Oral (f receiving) PinV, Praise Kink, Bucky being hot? idk.  A/N: my first (and probably only) fic. I love reading domestic-ish Bucky fluff + smut. This concept popped into my head and I couldn’t find one to read, so I wrote one.
It was a crisp spring morning in Brooklyn. You had just finished making some tea to start the day when you noticed the warm light streaming in through the window. It was perfect out! You took a sip of your drink and sighed in contentment, making your way to your yoga mat spread out in the living room. You always enjoyed getting a morning stretch in. Maintaining a regular yoga practice helped to ease your mind and ground yourself to start the day. Your boyfriend, Bucky, rarely joined you in your movements but he loved your daily practice too, for slightly different reasons.
As you walked past the couch you greeted him with a soft peck. He watched intently as you lowered yourself onto the mat and began moving through cat and cow pose, golden light tracing over your curves. You were wearing that tight little short set that he loved and your hair was pulled back into a delicate braid, small wisps dusting beautifully over your temples. You looked angelic–especially from this angle.
“See something you like, Barnes?” Pausing your routine to look up at him. Your tone was flirty, soft eyes never leaving his as you maneuvered yourself into a particularly appealing pose. Hearing nothing in return but still feeling his eyes on you, you called out to him again. “Why don’t you take a picture Buck, it’ll last longer” you chimed sarcastically, but Bucky didn’t hesitate. Letting out a small chuckle, he quietly darted over to his camera collection, grabbing a small polaroid model off of the shelf. "Ask and you shall receive, darlin’.”
Bucky found photography as his creative outlet shortly before you met him. He loved describing his photographs to you, what attracted him to each subject. How one photo could capture a single moment in time but still tell a thousand stories all at once. Eventually, other galleries and media outlets caught onto his work too and it became his career. You were so proud of him, you loved his work. Sometimes you even joked that he loved his cameras more than he loved you but you both knew deep down that you were Bucky’s one true muse. A few of his portraits of you even made it into some galleries, but he kept a special collection of photos just for himself to look back on with fondness.
Bucky came bounding back into the room, camera in hand and you couldn’t help but giggle. His excitement was palpable and adorable, you figured you’d humor him for a while. Tracking him through side glances, you watched as he moved around your body slowly appreciating the shapes and curves you created with each pose. The faintest sheen of sweat causing your skin to sparkle in the morning sunlight. 
There was always a satisfying sense of calm with Bucky. You felt comfortable with him from the day you met. After your first date walking through the exhibits at the Whitney, you two became inseparable. He showed you his favorite parts of the city, you kept him updated on arts and culture. Bucky’s friends became your friends, your friends adored him and after just a few months you decided to move in together, finding the perfect light-filled loft.
Throughout getting to know each other, and especially when christening your new place, you couldn’t help but notice that Bucky was particularly insatiable when it came to you. Ever the gentleman, your pleasure was important to him and he always treated your body like a work of art; which is why you were quick to notice the not-so-subtle bulge growing in his pants as you moved through a series of hip openers on your mat. You smiled to yourself, teasing him a little as you continued to work through your routine as if nothing was happening. You didn’t miss how his breath caught slightly when you twisted into a particularly suggestive position–Compass Pose, his favorite. It was over for him whenever you did it.
Unable to keep his hands to himself any longer, Bucky set his camera down and stepped closer to you. Kneeling behind you, he ran one hand along your thigh and grazed your exposed ankle with his lips, landing a soft kiss just above your achilles. “Buck.” You warned slyly, “You have that call with the gallery in 15 minutes, don’t start something you can’t finish, Barnes.”
You lowered your leg away from him with a wink but he simply wasn’t listening. Moving you onto your back, Bucky basically had you pinned now--exactly where you wanted him if you were being honest. Tongue jutting out to wet his lips as slate blue eyes zeroed in on your supple mouth, he leaned down until your noses nearly touched.
“Don’t you worry, sweetheart. You know--I bet I could devour your sweet little pussy right here on this mat and still be ready for that call in time.”
Your heart rate spiked as he looked right at you, pupils blown wide. You felt yourself clench around nothing as a tender silence fell over the room. A cocky grin that rivaled the cheshire cat spread across Bucky’s face as he advanced on you, fingers caressing your partially exposed thigh. “Are you going to be a good girl for me, hm? Let me make you feel good?”
You nodded slowly, never breaking eye contact as he pulled your soft shorts down your legs, planting kisses in his wake. Bucky’s eyebrow raised slightly as he noted your lack of underwear. Moving swiftly, his soft tongue finds your already dripping core, placing perfectly timed strokes up your folds and over your sensitive bud as you panted in ecstasy. 
“Already so wet for me, prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” Deep, powerful moans left Bucky’s mouth as you pulled at his hair rode his face, taking everything you had to give him.
 “P-please Buck. More. Want t-to feel you.” you chanted breathlessly.
Bucky sat up, “Yeah baby?” He grinned slyly. “You feeling needy this morning, huh? Want my cock in you?” All you could do was nod as he moved you both up from your mat over to the couch, stopping briefly to pick something up off of the floor. Standing over you, Bucky moved his hand down your cheek, thumb finding its way past your full lips. With complete adoration in his eyes, he lifted the polaroid camera once more. Aiming the lens right at your blissed out face. 
“Look here baby, right at me. That’s it. Look at you. My pretty girl, All mine.”
Sparks erupted from your core as he snapped away praising you as he worked. After a few more flashes, you were growing impatient. “Buck, please.” you whimper, reaching up for him “I n-need you now.”
He set the camera back down, smiling before placing a soft kiss on your palm and moving your hand to feel his aching length. “I got you baby, c’mere. Got me so fucking hard for you.” You watched with bated breath as he moved to toss his shirt aside and started on his pants. You swore you could watch him undress that beautiful body of his again and again, forever and ever, on repeat. 
Your heart thumped hard in your chest and you felt yourself getting wetter as his thick cock came into view. Jerking himself slowly, he hovered down over you and ran his tip along your folds, teasing you a bit. “This what you needed, baby? Doing all of those slutty little poses, teasing me from across the room.” He spreads your thighs farther apart, getting another good look at your glistening folds. “So pretty,” he groans when he notices you smiling up at him, ready and willing to take his length.
He sinks into you slowly, filthy lips grazing over your ear as he uses all of his strength not to plow you with force. “GOD–y/n, you feel so fucking good. Made to take my cock.” He shudders, grabbing ahold of your hand tightly and giving you a moment to adjust to his size, making sure you take every inch of him. 
He moves in and out of you with precision. Savoring every movement, feeling you inch closer to your edge when suddenly, it happens–he hits that perfect spot inside of your tight wet heat and feels you clench down immediately before gasping a strangled “ohgodyes, Buck–”
Bucky’s eyes meet yours and you can’t help but notice a fire alight inside of his pupils “Yeah, you like that?” He grins proudly.
“You gonna cum for me, angel? Squeezing me so hard” he chokes out. Sweat glistening off of your bodies, vulgar sounds and high-pitched moans creating a perfect melody along the walls of your apartment. The smell of sex wafting in the morning air. “Let go baby, show me how pretty you look when you cum all over my cock.”
Your peak hits you almost immediately, crashing through every muscle in your body as you fall deeper into ecstasy. You nearly squeal as Bucky suddenly flips you back into reality, moving you on top of him, fucking up into you from below. Oh, he’s extra insatiable today. You steady yourself as he slides a hand down your back and palms your ass, tapping once lightly then again, a little harder as you cry out, trying to meet him thrust for thrust. 
“One more baby, come on. You can take it, you can take what I give you, yeah?” Bucky’s desperate now. You look down at him, wide-eyed but he’s too busy pawing your tits and pulling at your sensitive nipples. He’s not stopping until you’re both satisfied.
“Give me another. That’s a good girl. C’mon let me feel you sweetheart.”
His cool metal thumb finds your clit at the perfect moment as yet another orgasm rips through you. “B-Bu-Buck! Ohmygod!” Your hips move wildly as your pussy gushes and you lean down to nip at his shoulder, leaving little marks as Bucky begins to chase his own high. 
“I know baby, I know. FUCK–You feel like heaven. Never want to leave this pussy. Hold onto me.” Your bodies sync up and you both come crashing down together. As your breathing slows, Bucky pulls you close and starts peppering kisses down your neck and chest. “Always such a good girl for me. Angel.” he lowers you onto the couch, holding your back into his chest as your lids fall heavy and you drift off into a pleasant haze of satisfaction. 
You finally come to a minute later, feeling a pair of lips gently pressing against your temple. A lazy smile plastered to your face as you watch Bucky make his way over to the kitchen island, plucking his t-shirt off of the back of the couch and putting it on as he opens up his laptop and joins his work call.
“Sorry I’m a couple of minutes late guys, appreciate you waiting for me. I’m feeling really inspired this morning, so let’s get started!”
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priestessame · 1 year
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Whenever you have time what type of dates do you think emperor zhongli would take the empress on
No rush and make sure your taking care of your self 
This is such a wholesome ask annon TT
ahhh Emperor Zhongli makes me so soft UWU
❧ I would assume that because the reader is from a foreign land, you would have to learn about the language and script one way or another. Lucky for you the emperor is far too excited when you expressed a desire to learn about the culture more. So obviously he takes it upon himself to tutor you. Teaching you the styles of calligraphy and the nuances of his language. He's unbelievably patient, guiding your hand with his own to teach you the script, sneaking in some cheesy proses about love. He would even take you out stargazing on nights with clear skies, mapping out constellations with his hands and re-telling their stories like he had lived it himself.
❧ He is such a patron of literature, he could spend hours reading you epics and ballads. Of course, it would go both ways, the emperor loves to listen to you talk about your own culture. Spending nights talking about the strange and wonderful stories from your mythology and history. Because everything about you fills him with pure wonder.
❧ During festivals, Once the palace rituals for the lantern rite are over, he would even sneak you out to watch the local theatre at Qingce village. (Even if it's against the will of his paranoid general). Softly translating dialogues you don't understand, loving how you lose yourself in the story. He would even help you hold the jueyun chilies you gathered for the ride back to the palace, even if they ruin his pockets.
❧ Zhongli also loves to take you around on walks. Dressed In layman clothes in matching top knots, passing under the guise of just another village couple. There's always a sense of calm that the emperor feels walking around the harbor, listening to the sounds of the city as it wraps up another busy day. And he has yearned all his life to share that kind of peace with someone.
❧ So he would take you around the harbor sharing candied oranges just as they light the evening lanterns. It makes most people look over their shoulders at the oddly attractive couple, but you won't really notice, you'd be too mired in your own world.
❧ If it's plum blossom season, he would take you to the royal garden, maybe he would even dedicate one to you if you like it too much. He would ask for tea and mooncakes to be bought to the garden as you two laze around the blossoms playing board games. Although by the end you chucked the pure-gold board piece at him for cheating at the game and then shamelessly denying it.
❧ Taking baths together; I mean obviously, the royal palace has its own hot springs. Bearing the title of the emperor, even if he is always surrounded by people, it still gets lonely at times. So moments like these are what make him feel very loved. He would place you between his legs, against his chest as he gently washes your back and shoulders. Most of the time he can't help but pepper kisses down your neck (0////0). It makes all the stress of the day melt, washing away the ache he feels from sitting on the throne all day long. It is even better when you are washing his long hair and idly braiding it with small flowers. The dragon in him loves this grooming. It's very intimate, but not really sexual. It makes him want to let down his guard as your company makes him feel safe.
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femininenachos · 1 year
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Vacation au? Do tell 👀
They arrive via ferry from the mainland, then by rental car.
“We would’ve got here a lot sooner if Grandma Wells ever dared to go above 20 mph.”
“Excuse me for not wanting us to plummet to our deaths on a blind turn, Octavia. Those roads are treacherous.”
“The speed limit was 40. 40! A senior citizen could go faster. In fact, an old lady on a Vespa overtook us back there.”
“That is such bullshit.”
Clarke drops her luggage and cuts across the argument. “Guys, enough! Come see the view.”
She throws open the patio doors to reveal an infinity pool with the most spectacular backdrop. Sparkling azure waters, rippling in the early evening haze, dramatic red-brown cliffs in the distance descending sharply into the sea. The picture postcard perfect village of Polis sprouts out of the rugged mountainside, whitewashed cuboid houses with painted blue doors, window frames and shutters, clustered tightly together and cascading down the steep slope.  
It takes her breath away.
“Oh, wow.” Wells peels off his shades and stands alongside Clarke in silent awe for a minute, transported by the sheer beauty of their surroundings. “Okay, I could get used to looking at that every day.”
“Right?” Clarke agrees with a wistful sigh. “The Airbnb photos didn’t do it justice.”
“Bell’s going to be so fucking jealous when he sees this on my Stories,” Octavia says, whipping out her phone.
To one side there’s a secluded courtyard, hemmed in by purple oleanders, the fragrant air thick with the scent of bougainvillea in bloom that climbs the walls.
It’s a slice of paradise; a dream come true.
Their haven for the next two weeks, and Clarke already feels the stress that followed her across the Atlantic melting away.
She fully intends to make use of that hot tub, preferably with a trashy airport novel in one hand and a fruity alcoholic concoction in the other. Just switch off, relax, and unwind. Mentally, she’s already changed into her swimsuit when Octavia pushes in between them and drapes her arms around their shoulders.
“So… what are our plans for this evening?”
“A glass of wine and some nibbles and an early night.”
That earns Clarke an appalled look from both her friends.
“I just came off a sixteen-hour shift. Who else here scrubbed in for three separate surgeries yesterday then hopped on a plane? I’m exhausted.”
“Fair,” Wells shrugs.
Octavia isn’t so sympathetic.
A frown sits on her face. “You can’t be a shut-in on our first night, Clarke.” Her eyes turn pleading. “Look, we’ll just have a nice, low-key dinner at the taverna. Maybe hit a bar or two after.”
Clarke groans.
A tug on her wrist. “Come on, we’re on vacation. Live a little. Whatever happened to party monster Clarke Griffin?”
“Uh, residency and 200k of student loan debt.”
She looks to Wells for backup, but he remains studiously blank. Some ally he is, she thinks with an inward tut. Meanwhile, Octavia just pins her with one of those formidable stares that always fills Clarke with a vague sense of inadequacy. 
She crumbles after a beat.
Heaves an exasperated sigh. 
“Fine. But no shots.”
~*~
Of course, the first thing Octavia does when they’re seated on the outside terrace is order a round of fayaflou. Distilled locally, it might as well be 100% proof pure ethanol by the way it burns down Clarke’s throat and starts an inferno in her chest. Even Wells chokes a little, but Octavia just acts like she guzzled down spring water fresh from a mountain stream.
“Another?” She asks, a dangerous glint in her eyes.
“Fuck, no,” Clarke croaks out through a coughing fit. She holds up a palm in surrender, the other flat against her sternum as if that could somehow mitigate the effects.
A scoff from Octavia. “Lightweight.”
“I’d just like to return home with my liver intact.”
“Same,” Wells says, his features contorted into a pained grimace. “I didn’t agree to this trip to get blackout drunk. Polis is steeped in culture and history. I mean, did you see those incredible ancient ruins on the drive here?”
Octavia rolls her eyes so hard the retinas nearly detach.
But after a moment’s reflection, she concedes. “Actually, you have a point. Gotta pace ourselves. The night is young and I’ve got my eye on that hot piece over there.”
All eyes follow her nod to the bar, where an impossibly chiselled, handsome guy is making cocktails. Tall. Tattooed. Muscles bulging out of his tight black shirt as he juggles two bottles at once with impressive showmanship. 
They all have to scrape their jaws off the floor. 
He might be the most beautiful man Clarke has ever seen, not that she would dare interfere when Octavia has her sights set on someone. But then a waitress glides up to him, passing off an order with a short, melodious laugh that reaches Clarke’s ears and when the woman turns around, Clarke’s mouth drops again.
Because she is gorgeous.
Chestnut brown hair pinned up in a twist, a few loose tendrils framing the kind of face that people wrote epic poetry about thousands of years ago. High cheekbones and pouty lips. A jawline cut from marble. Eyes drawn heavy with liner scan the terrace, landing on Clarke for a second, and those lips pull up almost imperceptibly, twitching into the subtle hint of a smile.
Caught staring, Clarke flushes and drops her gaze, feigning a sudden fascination with the laminated menu.
“How is it that everyone here looks like a model?” Wells wonders aloud.
“It’s all the genes,” Octavia says in a superior tone, proud of her own distant Polisian ancestry. She props her chin on her hand and bats her lashes. “We’re naturally beautiful people, what can I say?”
Wells snorts. “Naturally conceited, maybe.”
“Whatever. Clarke. Clarke? Clarke.”
A finger snap in front of her face jolt Clarke out of her daze. She scowls, but when she lifts her eyes, seeking out another glimpse of the waitress, Clarke is disappointed to find her gone.
“What are you having?” Octavia asks. “I’m thinking… calamari to start, and maybe we could share the seafood platter?”
“Uh…” Clarke pretends to pour over the menu options, still in a state of distraction. The words blur together. Her pulse hasn’t slowed yet and her palms are sweating. “Sure, sounds good.”
“Clarke might prefer something off-menu,” Wells says, and she looks up again just in time to see him incline his head towards the waitress approaching.
Octavia hoots delightedly and Clarke kicks her under the table.
All the same, Clarke’s throat dries out.
She can’t force her eyes away, drinking up the sight in front of her. How the crisp, white short-sleeved blouse hugs the girl’s torso and toned arms, such a striking contrast against sun-bronzed skin. One too many buttons are undone, affording a peek of sharp clavicles and a shadowy inch of cleavage. It has Clarke wetting her lips as her eyes dip down, taking in the neat black skirt and heels. Legs that go on for miles and miles.
Clarke shifts in her seat, warmth spreading through every inch of her body. She can’t even blame the residual heat of a sweltering day, the gentle sea breeze providing welcome relief as the orange disc of the sun squats low on the horizon, the last golden rays reaching out like fingers across the sky. 
“Not a word,” Clarke warns, seconds before the waitress arrives at their table.
Then Clarke hears her speak. “Hello, I’m Lexa. Are you ready to order?” Lightly accented English delivered in a crisp, coolly confident voice with a girlish lilt, and Clarke is a goner. 
Fully melts into a puddle of lust while Octavia and Wells rattle off their choices. When it’s Clarke’s turn, she finds herself tongue-tied. Up close, those eyes are the lushest, loveliest shade of green, and Clarke is transfixed.
Her stomach swoops.
It’s ridiculous. She’s a grown adult, a medical professional with years of clinical training below her belt, and inside she’s a mess because a beautiful woman is looking at her with an expectant arch of one eyebrow, patiently waiting for Clarke to recover from whatever brain malfunction she’s currently experiencing. 
“Hi, hello,” trips from Clarke’s mouth and it feels like her soul leaves her body at the same time. In an instant, her face heats. She offers a small, flustered laugh. “Sorry, I’m a space cadet today. Head in the clouds. The time difference, I guess.”
Across the table, her friends hide their amusement behind their knuckles, clearly entertained by her latest episode of undignified flailing in front of an attractive stranger. 
Full lips curve into a smirk that does absolutely nothing to slow the rapid hammering of Clarke’s heart or cool her flushed cheeks.
“What can I get you?”
A date, please.
(And in five years, give or take, a springtime wedding in a converted barn with fairy lights strung everywhere and two hundred guests in attendance, if Mom has any say in the planning.)
Get it together, Griffin.
Like the flip of a switch, she turns on the charm. Eases into a smile, one that’s seldom failed her (and gotten her out of plenty of scrapes besides). Tucks her hair behind her ear and lets her fingers trail down her neck. She sees the way the woman–Lexa’s–eyes darken as they track the movement, how they make a quick but unsubtle appraisal of Clarke’s seated figure.
Her confidence soars.
The mild funk she’d found herself in from a long day of travelling evaporates.
“You know what, I’m feeling adventurous. Surprise me.” Her gaze flicks towards beestung lips then back up, locking eyes once more. “Lexa.”
They hold eye contact for a stretch of seconds, and Clarke feels a current run through her. Mutual attraction, instant and electric.
“More drinks?” The question is intended for the whole table, but Lexa’s attention doesn’t stray from Clarke until Wells clears his throat. She almost appears annoyed by the interruption, a flash of irritation in her eyes, a muscle in her lower cheek flexing before her expression smooths out and she turns her head to look at him. And, God, that jawline nearly takes out Clarke in the process. It’s lickable. 
“Could we have a pitcher of water, please? My friends here are extremely thirsty,” Wells says, glancing pointedly between Clarke and Octavia.
“Make that three margaritas,” Octavia overrules him. “And have the sexy bartender bring them over.”
“O!” Clarke snaps, mortified.
So brazen. 
She gives Lexa an apologetic look, but there’s a ghost of a smirk on her lips again, a gleam in her eyes that suggests she’s happy to play along.
When Lexa departs, Octavia bumps Clarke’s arm excitedly with her fist. “I saw that! My girl, getting her flirt on like a pro.”
“Flirt?” Wells chuckles. “She practically had a sign on her forehead that said: ‘funny how my legs are wide open all of a sudden.’ Zero points for subtlety.”
Clarke huffs out a sigh and crosses her arms. “Oh, fuck off. Let me objectify someone in peace.”
“No, no. It’s good!” Octavia insists. “You should be putting yourself out there more. Especially after the F-I-N-N debacle.”
An eye roll. “You can say his name, O. I won't relapse into a depressive episode.”
“Okay, but you deserve to have fun. Ogle girls. Guys. Nonbinary eye candy.” She pats Clarke’s wrist. “I fully support your hot girl summer.”
Octavia peers past Clarke to check out the bartender again. She bites her lip, eyes glazing over a bit. “And I, for one, plan to climb that fine man like a tree before the night is over.”
Clarke sighs again. Unfolding her arms, she reaches for the empty shot glass in front of her, twirling it around with her fingers. “She’s probably a player, anyway. I bet she’s slept with six sunburnt British girls already this season.”
Tearing her gaze away from the beefy hunk behind the bar, Octavia looks at Clarke dubiously, brows pulled together. “Uh, she seemed pretty laser-focused on you. I felt like I was intruding on some serious eye-fucking a minute ago.” 
A fiendish grin spreads. 
“All signs indicate that Sexy Lexy has the hots for Clarkeypoo too.”
“Stop,” Clarke groans, hiding her face in her hands while she squirms with embarrassment. She shakes it off. “Vacation flings are so cliche, and the last thing I need as a souvenir is an STI.”
“Can we just enjoy a civilised meal, is that too much to ask?” Wells says, shaking his head in dismay. “All this sex talk is spoiling my appetite. I really don’t want to think about either of you in that capacity, ever.”
“Such a killjoy,” Octavia tells him. “Don’t worry, we’ll find someone for you too. A bespectacled, buck-toothed museum guide or something, that’s more your speed.”
Clarke tunes out their ensuing good-natured bickering, eyes landing on Lexa where she stands at the bar, chatting up two stereotypically Scandinavian blonde backpacker types. A tiny, unreasonable ember of jealousy flares in her gut that she tries to ignore. It’s not like they’re anything to each other (yet). Maybe Lexa flirts with everyone to alleviate the boredom of her shift and this is all just a mildly diverting game to pass the time.
As though sensing Clarke’s attention on her from afar, Lexa glances over her shoulder, and in the brief moment when their eyes catch and hold, the slight smile that curves across Lexa’s lips feels like it might be Clarke’s downfall.
Next
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Defining Terminology via POV
Anonymous asked: How do you make sure the reader understands a culture-specific term they are most likely unfamiliar with if describing it in the narrative itself makes no sense from the narrator’s point of view? I’m writing an alternative medieval era story with a culture based heavily on Nordic kingdoms of that period. It comes with certain cultural terms like ergi, which encompasses several implications at once, all relevant to the story dynamics and important for the protagonist's view of himself. Only one implication would be explicitly clear due to context, but the others wouldn't be without knowledge of Nordic medieval law. The story is third-person limited, so defining the term in text makes as much sense as me randomly explaining to myself what a radio is. I'm at a loss as to how to go about this and am tempted to just add notations at the bottom of the page.
(Ask edited for length...)
Here's the reality... read anything in first-person or third-person limited POV, and you'll find all sorts of defining and explaining that wouldn't actually be going on inside that person's head...
For example, take this excerpt from A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin, told from the third-person limited POV of one of the main characters, Catelyn Stark:
Of all the rooms in Winterfell's Great Keep, Catelyn's bedchambers were the hottest. She seldom had to light a fire. The castle had been built over natural hot springs, and the scalding waters rushed through its walls and chambers like blood through a man's body, driving the chill from the stone halls, filling the glass gardens with a moist warmth, keeping the earth from freezing. Open pools smoked day and night in a dozen small courtyards. That was a little thing, in summer, in winter, it was the difference between life and death.
Catelyn Stark has just walked into her bedchamber. In real life, she would probably just be thinking about how hot the room is. She probably wouldn't be thinking about the hot springs, how they heat the castle, or how they create steaming pools in different courtyards. And she certainly wouldn't be thinking about how essential that is in winter when her primary concern is that her bedroom is currently hot.
Here's another example from The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, told from the first-person POV of the protagonist, Katniss Everdeen:
On the way home, we swing by the Hob, the black market that operates in an abandoned warehouse that once held coal. When they came up with a more efficient system that transported the coal directly from the mines to the trains, the Hob gradually took over the space. Most businesses are closed by this time on reaping day, but the black market's still fairly busy.
Katniss Everdeen has arrived at the Hob, which she's been too a million times before. In real life, she wouldn't be thinking about how the building used to be a coal warehouse, or about how the warehouse was no longer used after they found a more efficient system for transporting the coal from the mines to the trains. None of this is going through her mind when she's only there to trade some hunting goods.
So, my point is, yes, in real life, it would be weird for you to walk into a room to turn on a radio, and then mentally explain to yourself what a radio is and how it works, but fiction isn't real life. It's a story told through text on a page, and as such, you sometimes have to do things for clarity's sake that wouldn't make sense in real life. And, when you're talking about something that has deep personal meaning (like ergi to your character), it actually does make a little more sense for them to be thinking about that meaning (as opposed to thinking to yourself about what a radio is, for example). But... if you really feel strongly that defining or explaining something in your character's thoughts feels off, there are alternatives:
1 - Have them explain it to a character who doesn't know about it.
2 - Have your character overhear it being explained from one character to another.
3 - Have your character read a document or something that explains it.
4 - Find a middle ground between explanation (telling) and contextual action (showing) to define the thing.
5 - Have the character think back to when they first learned about the thing, maybe remembering someone explaining it to them, or what their first experience with it was.
I hope that helps!
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duaghterofstories · 4 months
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How I would Fix Prythian
Things I will cover in this post below the cut:
Powers of the High Lords/Court Design.
Political System.
Religion and it's intergration.
Pop Culture.
So basically this is how I would have designed Prythian (Or fixed it if SJM had asked me).
This is a special interest of mine, so under the cut.
Powers of the High Lords/Court Design:
This also falls under the thing of how the Courts are designed, so I smushed them together
Basically, According to the books, the powers of fire are in Autumn, the powers of water is in Summer, and so on. However, this makes no sense logically.
Summer is, quite notably, historically a very hot season. In fact, there are theories that Persephone is actually in the Underworld during Summer because during the summer in Greece, nothing could grow. Because it was so fucking hot. Following this logic, Summer should have Fire Powers. It should be a relative desert, and be incredibly warm constantly.
Autumn is a very windy season. Very dry, pretty cold but not super cold. This season shoudl be pretty colors, lots of forests with either Evergreen Trees or lots of colored trees that flutter around while falling. The powers of this court should be wind, obviously.
Spring is a wet Season. It is literally known for being rainy, it is a season of rebirth and change. Spring, I think, was well designed. However, it had a very noticeable lack of rain and rain related celebrations. Maybe it rains on Calanmai, or some other event. Just something interesting. They should also have a lot of flowers, but buds and fresh flowers. There should be a lot more bees as well. I think bees should be more relevant in Spring. Anyway, Spring should have Water powers and powers of healing.
The rest seem pretty good all things considered, so I'll leave them be (for now.)
~~
Political System:
*crying* the political system in Acotar makes no fucking sense. It's so goddamn discordinated. No one works together. There is no fucking hierarchy. The laws seem arbitrary and made up. I want to throw up even trying to figure out what's happening.
So, first up I'm going to add in an agreement. Think NATO. Except PTO for Prythian Treaty Organization instead. Anyway, they all have an agreement.
And then, of course, within each court, There's the High Lords and Lady of [Court Name] on the sameish level, same idea of King and Queen, or Queen and Prince, Emperor and Empress, etc. Under that are the average Lords, each in charge of ruling part of the Court. Then there's district people, which I can't be bothered to remember the name of.
Of course, the High Lord/Lady of [Court] is still in charge and, like we see Tamlin do, are deeply involved. It's just hard to do that all the time.
The Courts don't get involved with each other too much but they do help each other in times of need.
~~
Religion and it's Integration:
Religion just feels like it should play a bigger part in the series. Or at least in the culture.
I can't say much about this, I'd just probably include, like, more rules. Mother/Cauldron doesn't really seem to involve many rules. Like, nothing to prove devotion, or a desire to do good. No prayers. Basically just references.
So I just feel she should add that. Maybe a religious dress or some cool ass holidays.
That's it.
~~
Pop Culture:
The most infuriating and fake thing is that Prythian has no pop culture or fiction books, or anything else similar. There's like, music. And that's it.
Now, I would understand if Fae couldn't lie, or create fiction, such as in An Enchantment of Ravens. But no, one of the important things we learn is they can, do, and will lie.
So why don't they have any books, or fiction, or anything.
It makes no sense. I would add in popular actors in plays, popular books, etc. Just for fun. Or to add anything.
That's it. Not a lot of examples I can give.
~~
Okay, I hope you guys liked this post, and if anyone wants to discuss it, I will. I love discussing this stuff.
@achaotichuman , here is the post you asked me to tag you in.
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tlaquetzqui · 7 months
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If you are talking about the “original” version of zombies and you start out with the Caribbean, you should be branded—with an actual hot iron—as illiterate.
“Zombie” comes from nzumbi, which means “ghost”—the same root appears in “jumbee” in some English-speaking parts of the Caribbean, where they’re still ghosts. They seem to be basically mindless wraiths. Evil spiritual practitioners could harness them to achieve their aims, so the term was borrowed for people who were drugged to make them pliable.
You know these cultures didn’t spring into being with the slave trade, right? You know they predate the colonial slave trade by three thousand years, right? Assuming the drugged people are the original zombies is like assuming Judeo-Christian psychopomp legends originate with nurses who poison people—“angel of death” in that sense is as late an arrival as the Caribbean-drugging version of zombies.
(I think the word nzumbi is in the noun class for animals and other impersonal animates; the plural would be something like dizumbi except I think that branch of Bantu stopped marking that class for number. It’s like how Japanese counts oni with hiki instead of nin—if they were people it would be muzumbi, plural bazumbi.)
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amaiguri · 5 months
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Happy WBW! What is your favorite place in your world? Tell me about it. (^.^)
This is actually something I have been changing about my philosophy as my world has become more public over the last two years: Once, I used to focus on places and cultures I wasn't familiar with and each new world was a way to put everything I learned into a mind palace of sorts, I guess.
But these days, since I do try to take a lot of international influence, I want to ensure there is something in each place and culture that deeply resonates with me -- so I will be inspired to make work about that place.
That being said...
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...the most self-indulgent place in my world is the City-State of Nouveau Thuille. Above is a picture of the old, snowy courthouse, where pseudo-King Arthur allegedly ruled. It's located by a hot spring and beneath the Upper Continent -- a bastion of liveable space in the otherwise frozen North.
When I was younger, I was obsessed with the quaint, falling-apart, vaguely Victorian mining towns in the mountains near where I live. I love the snow, the rugged individualism, the small communities, the sense of history (Especially as a person from the USA! A sense of history is rare here, it feels lol). I always insisted I wanted to live there, until I started having friends and wanted to talk to them over the very slow wifi... Luckily! No wifi in my world!
I have like 3 worldbuilding posts dedicated to this city because I love them so much I won't hash it all out again, but the tl;dr is they're a city of Franco-Irish Yakuza pretending to be the descendants of the noble knights of psuedo-King Arthur. There are basically no laws, except for whatever people think is acceptable. BUT the Nobles keep things going and encourage general technological and cultural advancement through careful agreements -- bound only by their reputations -- and non-organized crime is actually pretty rare because all the gangs nobles will shut that down SO fast.
I love the aesthetic and the snow and the Ysse lanterns and their mushroom coffee and frozen fish dishes and the harshness and their fluffy, big-nosed llamas... *sigh*
Thanks for the ask!
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taskignored · 1 year
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Make the fae inhuman
I'm talking scales, chitin, horns, tails, extra limbs, extra eyes, ears, growing flowers, moss, or branches from their bodies, please am begging.
Acotar is supposed to be a Beauty and the Beast retelling, except the beast isn't really beastly? It's just a smoking hot elf dude with anger issues, which are a dime-a-dozen in YA. Nothing special or groundbreaking.
There is a way Author Lady could've made TimTam hot without it being completely unfaithful to that Beauty and The Beast aspect of the book. He's a fudging shapeshifter, so why not make shapeshifting a cultural aspect of Spring?
Like, everybody there has this belief that form is fluid and petitioning the HL to change their shape into a shape more comfortable for them is something that is common and even expected. It could be a coming of age ceremony where the HL recognizes these new adults as adults/citizens of his territory where he helps them change into something else. "A form is like clothes or the weather, it changes" could be a saying in Spring.
Warriors could be given shapes that help them do their jobs. Better noses for investigations, better hearing for guarding, forms that better facilitate fighting, etc.
Citizens could be unicorns or deer or literally anything, or a combination of things, they have magic so I don't think the lack of thumbs would matter to them anyways. I don't think the "anything" part can be emphasized enough tho, you could have endless variation. You don't need something as boring as names for fae species like fawns or water wraiths or whatever. In fact, I'd imagine that the people of Spring would just call themselves The Children of Spring (parallel the Children of Blessed?), ever changing and stuff.
Anyway, back to my original point. TimTam is a shapeshifter, so his form is fluid. What if, because he's desperate to lift the curse from his people, he just changes his and his staffs' shapes to make them more human-like to lull his human companion into a sense of security with the familiarity of the human-ish forms we see in the books. So, as he and Feyre get closer, he becomes more comfortable and braver.
It could be a milestone in their relationship where he shows her what his usual shape looks like. Which, I would imagine, would be something completely inhuman. Horns, fur, maybe some actual vines and flowers growing from him. And lying over his shape could be a blanket of actual power, the Power of Spring (which is unusually dim and not as potent b/c of the curse). This aura could make it look like his shape is constantly changing in minute ways. Extra eyes, more limbs, scales, chitin, anything.
And Feyre, because she loves him, would love this version of him wholly. This would lead to him changing the shapes of the other faeries in the mansion back to their own forms. Just think, no more boring human-fae, but actual fairies. The kinds that actual look otherworldly.
And you know what, why not extend that to the mansion and other fae places. In our lore it's ill advised to go into the woods alone, there are changelings and witches and such. Make the woods become endless and winding, the mansion could have extra corridors that lead no where, or other unexplained phenomenon. Fae rules don't have to make sense. Make it so that if Feyre (or humans in general) wanders off, it isn't necessarily the fae that would be their undoing, but the woods. She could wander forever if she doesn't have a guide or something.
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junebugwriter · 7 months
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Thoughts on Ahsoka
*Spoilers for the whole show*
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The Ahsoka series is all about legacy. My hot take is that it is a second try at making a coherent sequel, grappling with the previous series of Clone Wars and Rebels, and putting it in the post-OT timeline. It has the benefit of being a narrative told from a more singular vision (Dave Filoni's) but is also unburdened by the expectation of being as massive a hit as the numbered films.  
First, let's talk about legacy. Star Wars is often derided because of its Chosen One narrative revolving around the Skywalker family, and how people shoulder or buckle under the expectation of doing Great Things. I think Ahsoka, in the tradition of Rebels, is trying to tell an auxiliary story about the world of science fantasy that Star Wars inhabits. Lucas has gone on record in saying that he was heavily influenced by old Flash Gordon serials, the Campbellian monomyth, Japanese samurai films, and WWII aerial dogfighting footage. These are strands in the DNA of Star Wars, and each series can lean into the various identities at the heart of this milieu. Star Wars can tell many kinds of stories; it’s big enough to encompass many visions, but always needs to remember the roots of which the stories spring from. 
Ahsoka, both the show and the character, is the bearer of a complex legacy. Show-wise, it exists as a continuation of the narrative threads of the Clone Wars and Rebels, orbiting around massive blockbuster films. In the story, Ahsoka is the apprentice of Anakin Skywalker, the would-be chosen one who turned and became the perhaps greatest villain of 20th century film, Darth Vader. In the narrative, Ahsoka is burdened by an impossible expectation. Her master is well-known throughout the galaxy as one of the most powerful Jedi in the order, despite not being considered a Jedi Master. In Rebels, it is shown she lost track of Anakin after their falling out. She assumed he had died in the purge of the Jedi Order. She is then proven wrong when she figures out that her mentor was now the right hand of the emperor.  
So, she is burdened by the mixed legacy of a heroic mentor turned terrifying force of evil. She carves her own path, a ronin samurai of a now-forgotten order of mystic knights. It is implied that, after the end of the events of Rebels, she took on an apprentice of her own in Sabine Wren. This, naturally, had a troubled ending. Sabine Wren is a Mandalorian, and that culture is one with an antagonistic relationship to the ways of the Jedi Order. Both Ahsoka and Sabine are hard-headed, stubborn, and have deep-seated trust issues. Each character comes by it honestly, but that makes for a difficult Master/Student relationship. 
That, of course, is mostly prologue. In the events of Ahsoka the show, their dynamic is the central relationship in focus. Sabine is driven by a desire to restore her lost family in finding Ezra, and Ahsoka is driven by a fear of a return of the Empire, the evil from her past she had thought she had grown beyond after the death of her former master. People have called the acting, especially in the first few episodes, wooden and stilted, but knowing the background of these characters and their parallel traumas, it makes sense. It makes sense for Ahsoka to default to being a loner, a ronin. Sabine regresses to her more teenaged rebellious nature, despite being in her late twenties/early thirties. She’s lost both her biological parents and her found family. She’s had to survive on her own, and feels abandoned by Ahsoka. So, when they reconnect, there is tension. Both have a lot riding on their minds, the legacies of their backgrounds overburdening them to the breaking point.  
Midway through the series is a crisis point, and the heroic pair fail. This is expected. Huyang told them to stay together, but they rebelled, went their own way. Ahsoka fell in battle, nearly dying. Sabine was overcome by the desire to see her old friend Ezra, and succumbed to the temptations of the fallen Jedi Baylan Skoll. The duo is scattered; master has failed apprentice, and apprentice has failed mentor.  
Episode 5, the best episode in the series, is an episode-long negotiation of this failure. Ahsoka wrestles with the spirit of her former master, in both metaphysical ways as well as a very real way overcoming her physical trauma. Anakin gives her a final, parting lesson: Fight, or die. Binary. Stark. Real stakes. Searching her history brings to the fore the trauma of being a child soldier, feeling abandoned by the institution that raised her, and grappling with the all-too-human failure of her master. She feared that she too would fall to the temptation of the dark side. She feared that getting close to Sabine would expose her vulnerability, which would leave her open to the darkness. But she instead navigates these very real fears, and chooses to see beyond fighting (the thing her master trained to do) and dying (the fear she grapples with in the absence of fighting). Instead, she breaks the binary, and chooses a secret third option: she chooses to live.  
What this means in practice is a change in demeanor. She was cold, closed off, and in her fear, she was unable to meet Sabine where she desperately needed to be met. “Ahsoka the white,” in direct reference to Gandalf of the Lord of the Rings, is a much more empathetic, trusting, and vulnerable person. She’s still recognizably Ahsoka, but her fears are less stark after facing death and failure. She has learned that failure need not equate death. Rather, that life is filled with failure. How one picks oneself up after that failure is the difference between falling to darkness and embracing light.  
As the series ends, when she is reunited with her apprentice Sabine, there is tension. Sabine knows she failed. But Ahsoka does not hold it against her. Ahsoka is instead understanding, empathetic. They grapple with the realities of the situation, and know that the stakes are high. It is no surprise then that, at the end, the climax is one of mixed success and failure, because that is life. Life is not just one thing. Ahsoka is not just one thing, not just one person. She is many things, because every person encapsulates multitudes, just like her master. She need not be afraid of failure, if there is some measure of success mixed in. Sure, they failed to stop the return of the most dangerous strategist in galactic history... but they also rescued their friend. They may be stranded in a strange land... but now they have another chance to figure out their relationship as master and apprentice. They have a chance at a new life. They did not die. They may have failed, but they still live. Because they live, they have a chance to change their circumstances before the end. 
Legacy weighs on all of us heavily. Life offers us no shortage of burdens. But we need not live in constant conflict, constant fear. We can choose the third option: we can choose to live. Forge a new path, our own path, one that’s honest. One that’s frail, to be sure. But one that is better when shared with a friend. Ahsoka is about legacy in the face of mythic times, but ultimately comes down to interpersonal relationships and healing.  
In the context of Star Wars, Ahsoka is about second chances. The sequel trilogy was a mixed bag at best. The TV shows have shown that you can explore this universe in more nuanced ways than a blockbuster film can afford. Ahsoka proves, then, that you can get a second chance at second chances.  
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dbgdbw · 2 years
Text
외전 2화
Extra 2
The delivered drinks were distributed to each person. Yoohyunie and Yerimie filled out either side of the long bench. Almost immediately after Yoohyunie blanketed me in an oversized towel and got rid of most of the moisture, Peace made his way over and climbed on top of my lap.
And so, both spots next to me, as well as the spot in front, filled up, and. 
‘...Noah-ssi.’
Noah, who had been watching with noonchi, ended up going to sit next to Yerimie. It was enough to make me feel sorry that I only had one body. When I looked around to see where Myungwoo was, I saw him in the midst of conversing with Moon Hyuna. Seeing the way he was passionately speaking with the aid of hand gestures, and especially with the way Moon Hyuna’s eyes seemed to be sparkling, it appeared that they were discussing something to do with either giant spears or mount-use equipment. They were really chugging down that beer, nearly instantaneously. 
Those two people seemed to get along quite well too, it seemed.
‘If I could actually just go over there, and the kids play on their own, that would be optimal.’
Would things have been a bit better if Soyoung-ssi had come as well. Maybe I should organize something like a twenty-and-under high rank Hunter coalition. Including those who were twenty by international age, from all over Korea, no, the world. If I combed through the entire world, there should be at least ten, maybe more people that would get along well with Yoohyunie, right. It didn’t even have to be that many, but at least two or so would be nice. 
Thanking Noah for the coffee, I put the straw in my mouth. It was a caffè latte, but without any whipped cream. Did you have to ask for it separately. Without it, it’d taste a bit less sw……
‘Ugh, what’s with this.’
The coffee tasted strange(1). No, the coffee tasted like coffee, but… It was vastly different from what I was used to drinking in Korea. The bitterness was intense. And it tasted kind of underwhelming, too. Eh, was it because it didn’t have any whip. But in Korea, even when I drank it straight before mixing in the whipped cream, it hadn’t tasted like this caffè latte. 
…it seemed to be a difference in culture, after all. Then again, since it was Korea versus Japan, it made sense that the food would taste different. Since, even when it came to jajangmyeon, the Korean way of preparing it was completely different from the traditional Chinese method. I liked the Korean styles best, after all. Korean coffee was what was tasty. 
‘Why is Sung Hyunjae, that guy, looking in my direction and laughing.’
Yeah, so it didn’t taste as good as the one you’d brought. But it was still drinkable, okay. It was savory in its own way. 
“It might be best to reapply your sunscreen, don't you think?” (YH)
“This kind is supposed to stay on well even in the water.” (YJ)
“Still, they say it's good to reapply often. It's probably fine for now, but they said that even the swimming pool water is pulled from the hot springs, right. That might make it come off easier, you never know.” (YR)
The water quality had seemed really nice. Chirpie and Velare were still playing while swimming along. As Velare swiftly cut across the water, Chirpie was being pulled along while dangling from the tip of her tail. It looked like they were having fun. Let’s take some pictures.
While sipping on the coffee, I thought about how to keep the kids from fighting and make sure they played well together. Maybe we should decide on the order with rock-paper-scissors. But that would give the advantage to Yoohyunie(2). Maybe in order of age, then. Yoohyunie, that guy, didn’t he find that Americano bitter. It’d tasted just like diluted coffee water to me. Or perhaps, was that the reason why he drank it. Since it would probably be way more obvious if something else had been mixed in, than with something like a latte. 
Setting down the half-emptied coffee cup, I stood up from my seat. Let’s try coaxing the three of them, first. If we could all play together, that would be best.
쿵!
Just then, the sound of a dense weight hitting the ground rang out. When I turned around to check what it was, I wasn’t sure where he’d jumped down from, but mister Lion King w… ack, wait.
“Shit, Yerim-ah, close your eyes!”
Ah, that crazy bastard! Of course it was a given to wear swimwear to a swimming pool, and speedos could be a personal preference, yes, but fuck, that area was, ugh shit, not only my eyes, but my heart also felt tarnished.
“Noah-ssi, hurry and avert your head as well! Yoohyunie, you don’t look either, you shouldn’t look at filth!”
It was narrowly covered, but a mosaic probably would’ve been more considerate than that. Didn’t something like this need a 19+ sticker, you damn lion bastard. There’s a minor here as well! And even if they were of age in their country of residence, Noah-ssi was definitely young, and Yoohyunie was still on the younger side too!
“Ah really, you’ve really gone and lost it!”
What was with that scarring display! Swearing, I hurried over with a towel. Dammit, seeing him closer-up just pissed me off even more!
“What are you getting so flustered for. Is it, after all, that I am–”
“Shut up and cover up! You're old enough that you should know better, what do you think you’re doing in front of kids!”
I shoved the towel forward, but the lion bastard didn’t move to cover himself at all, and just stared obtusely at me instead. I told you to cover up, you goddamn psycho. Did I really have to tie the towel around your waist myself. Were you under the impression that I’d crossed the ocean just to come clean up after you. 
“Hyung.”
“Yoohyunie you, I told you not to look, so why’d you come over.”
Yoohyunie tugged me backwards, while Sung Hyunjae stepped out in front of me. 
“Our Director Han-nim is particularly prone to worry when it comes to the children, you see.” 
Had they come to protect me because I’d gone and started antagonizing another nation’s S-rank Hunter just now, these two. But he didn’t seem stupid enough to try and lay hands on me over something as inconsequential as this, that lion. …was he stupid? For starters, rather than seeming angered, his face kind of looked like he was just stupefied. 
…if you looked at just the upper half, he did have a good body.
“It appears Amaterasu’s Guild Leader-nim made too stimulating of an impression.”
Rather than stimulating, it was vulgar. It needed to be censored. The lion bastard deliberated with some suspicion for a moment before 푸하하 bursting into boisterous laughter. 
“‘Stimulating,’ I will concede it. I’ve imposed upon you, I see. It certainly is far too early for this one to be out and about, after all!” 
What was that bastard saying. I didn’t want to come across him even in the middle of the night, either. Cover yourself up properly when going around. The lion bastard turned around, as though being generous. It was a bit better now that I couldn’t see the front, at least. I felt envious of the broad expanse of his back for a brief moment. That kind of guy was an S-rank too, dammit. 
The lion bastard obligingly left. Ah, I already felt tired, without having done anything. It was mentally exhausting. But I still needed to play with the kids. Swimming……
Together with Yoohyunie, I entered the water again. Yerimie scurried right behind us and came to stand beside Yoohyunie. I motioned for Noah, who was hesitating, to come as well. When Noah took his place next to Yerimie, it ended up with the three of them lined up in a row in front of me.
Now, join hands with each other and play, probably wouldn’t go over well.
“Then… I know everyone wants to swim together, but since I’m still not very proficient at it yet.”
“Like I said, I’ll teach you~”
“Do it with me. Us beginners together.”
“I can, help Yoojin-ssi as well.”
“Thanks, everyone, but since there’s only one of me. Couldn’t just one of you stay, and the other two play together.”
Couldn’t they. The atmosphere was a definite no, but couldn’t it be possible. 
“Hm, well, since Yerimie is the youngest, and she was the first one to want to come to the pool too.”
“That’s right! I kept saying that we should go swimming!”
“But the one who asked hyung about learning swimming first was me.”
“Since you should be grown up enough already, why don’t you try conceding as the one who’s older, Han Yoohyun.”
“Whether you’ve ever treated me as though I’m your elder, answer that with your hand over your heart, Bak Yerim.”
“Hey, I still gave you the guild leader treatment though!”
“If our positions had been flipped, I would’ve done the same.”
That, well, Yoohyunie had diligently kept up the polite address to Yerimie while still in public. He’d learned well. 쿵, Yerimie stomped her foot underwater before putting on a grave expression. Then, she squared up to look straight at me. 
“Ahjussi.”
“Hm?”
“Yerimie only has ahjussi. Please play with Yerimie!”(3)
At the aegyo-infused voice, 푸핫, a guffaw could be heard from Moon Hyuna. Yerimie’s face turned slightly red, but doggedly continued appealing to me with a look that said because I'm young. That’s right, she was young. Even then, usually by the time you were a middle schooler, saying something like that was… but it was still cute. Fifteen years old was still young, and a kid. She’d led a difficult life until now, so what if she wanted to act a bit childishly now to make up for it. It was fine, it was cute.
The youngest should be seen first, after all–. 
“Hyung.”
This time, my dongsaeng called out to me. When I turned to look at him, he smiled beatifically. 
“Yoohyunie really only has hyung. Play with Yoohyunie first.”
“Ack! Han Yoohyun! Are you crazy! Aargh! Ack! I was in the wrong! Aaaagh!”(3)
Yerimie shrieked as Moon Hyuna wheezed with laughter. That’s, Yoohyun-ah. To follow along with something like that, your age, was a bit… But at the same time, a visceral impression of my dongsaeng’s younger self wavered in front of my eyes. He’d been so cute, really. That’s right, since I hadn’t been able to bring him somewhere like this while we were young, shouldn’t I at least prioritize him at this opportunity. Who’d look after my dongsaeng, if not me. 
“N-noah too……”
Lastly, as though he didn’t want to lose either, Noah spoke up with a crimson face. 
“Noah only has Yoojin-ssi too! With Noah, too… Er……”
Ah, Noah was sinking back under the water again. There really wasn’t a need to imitate them. But Noah-ssi was cute too, and it had suited him surprisingly well… And what was this, now.
“...and why might you(4) be standing there.”
Sung Hyunjae had taken up the spot next to Noah at some point. Serenely, matter-of-factly, as though he was queueing for a turn. Wait, hold on a second. It wouldn’t be, right. Considering how old you were, it wasn’t likely, right. Hold on, you ahjussi-yah. Even if you had a thick face, there were limits. He wouldn’t, right. 
Sung Hyunjae smi…led, sun…nily, and.
“Hyunjae only has my Partner as well. Do play with Hyunjae, too.”
…he ran that damnably shameless mouth. Fuck. I should’ve blocked my ears. Why had I just allowed myself to be subjected to that. 
“Kyahahaha, crazy bastard!”
Right on the heels of Moon Hyuna’s uproarious laughter, 풍덩, the sound of something falling into the water could be heard. She must’ve fallen in while laughing. Myungwoo was shaking with suppressed laughter, with his face buried in the back of the lounge chair he was half-sitting on. 
On the other hand, Yoohyunie and Yerimie both wore flat expressions that said they’d heard something they shouldn’t have. Both of their gazes bore enough hostility to feel like they were swearing at him with their eyes. I was probably wearing a similar expression. With a dazed face, Noah quietly left his spot to evacuate to one side of Yoohyunie. 
“Pfft! Hyung-nim! Hyuna only has hyung-nim too! Play with Hyuna too!”
“Yoojin-ah! Myungwoo only has you, Yoojinie, pfft.”
Moon Hyuna and Myungwoo joined in as well, and despite being clueless, Peace, with his ears pricked up, attempted to participate as much as he could.
- 끼앙, 끄아앙.
Though I didn’t know what he might be saying.
- 삐약! 뺙!
- 시잇, 싯!
Mh, yeah. You really don’t have to. Willing a zen demeanor to wash over me, I dredged up a smile.
“Let’s just decide through rock-paper-scissors. Those over twenty will not be considered. Please have some tact and exit on your own.”
“How unfair.”
“That’s right, how cold, hyung-nim! I’m still in my teens at heart!”
You adults-nim-ah, please. Myungwoo, the youngest of you, is the one acting the most adult-like. Weren’t you embarrassed. …though it might also be that he was just too busy laughing to join in too, but. 
“This time for certain, I’ll repay you for the humiliation from back then.”
Yerimie raised her arm up high, and Yoohyunie quietly clenched his hand into a tight fist. With an apprehensive expression, Noah swallowed dryly. 
“It’s not a fight, guys. Just simple rock-paper-scissors. Put only your hand forward.”
I went ahead and told them as much, but as expected, it didn’t have much of an effect. 
When the three of them threw rock-paper-scissors, the water in the pool evaporated by half. Chirpie and Velare had gotten caught up in it and were almost swept away to be flung to their doom, but Moon Hyuna quickly snatched them out of the air. Luckily, because the place was well-designed, the pool water quickly filled back up. 
Yerimie protested to Yoohyunie, who was wearing a victor’s smile, that he had cheated, but it wasn’t effective in the least. Noah was sending over a teary gaze that said it’s fine even if I’m third. 
‘...was playing in the water something this difficult.’
Next time, I’d have to take them playing one at a time if possible. My stamina… couldn’t keep up. 
On top of that, due to Yerimie’s interference, Yoohyunie quickly picked up how to swim, while I still only knew how to float.
From now on, I’d just have to pack a tube and peacefully float around. Honestly.
-----
(1) (coffee) A caffè latte is typically a single shot of espresso topped with a cupful of heated or steamed milk, often with foam on top of that. There are places where a latte is made sweet by default, but usually sugar is a non-standard addition--so what is Han Yoojin talking about when he says he's used to his lattes being sweet?
The history of coffee in Korea is quite interesting, but as it stands today: instant coffee is very, very popular in Korea. You can pick up 3-in-1 packets of mix-coffee (instant coffee, milk powder, and sugar) to make it at home, have a drink when you've finished dining at a restaurant, or get a cup from the vending machine in places like the Hunter Association. If you need something more convenient, you can buy your coffee pre-made and canned or bottled. The ratio of coffee to milk to sugar varies by brand and by blend, but your options are often sweeter (eng video) than what the "average" coffee-drinker prefers. There are, of course, many cafes that will sell you whichever espresso-based drink strikes your fancy, and drip coffee does exist, but Han Yoojin has made it clear that instant coffee is his preference.
The last time we saw Han Yoojin order a caffè latte, he asked for something "without too much sugar, and no whip"--two features that typically don't exist in a latte. He gets back a mocha (...technically a variant on a latte...?) that's heavily sweetened, with whipped cream--that he's told is a regular latte. Throughout the entirety of the story, no one is ever going to tell him the truth about these drinks. So that's the lore behind Han Yoojin's coffee struggles! You can pick up instant coffee samplers across the web if you want to try--just make sure your choice includes the ubiquitous Maxim Mocha Gold.
(2) (aegyo)
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Can I use aegyo?
Who uses aegyo & with whom?
But is it cringe?
Ahn Yoojin, Cha Eunwoo + the power of aegyo
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+ 유유예 @ shj
(3) s-ranks & rock-paper-scissors
(4) you(댁)
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goldiecastelia · 1 month
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1/2
One could become used to anything, John supposed. Even sleeping on a thin mat on a wooden floor. With a block on which he was meant to rest his head.
How silly.
And yet, he couldn’t help but admire the tenacity of the people.
He had thought their bathing customs were a bit extreme, and yet, he had found himself just this evening seeking out a hot bath.
Additionally, the view was intoxicating, and the solitude was most welcome. Most quickly, he realized that being in the village meant never being alone. Whether it was Fuji-sama trailing just behind him, a shuffling shadow in his home (prison, more like), or being gawked at by the villagers, with Mariko-sama having to translate for him and communicate everything. It was as if he were a child. Or a prisoner.
He shifted onto his side, to no relief.
Not that he minded her company. Although something felt different since they had left Osaka.
Mariko-sama presented as courteous as always, so perhaps it was his imagination, but after his bumbling outburst of a diversion when the litter was being inspected by Ishido’s men, he noticed that Mariko-sama’s eyes lingered on him instead of the ground whenever they conversed, and she was more inquisitive, asking him questions about himself and his past, rather than simply doing her duty of translating and inquiring nothing more.
Like tonight.
When she asked about London, his heart skipped a beat. It had never occurred to him how that word would sound coming from her lips, but he now knew he would not want to hear it said any other way.
He enjoyed imagining a night in London with Mariko-sama. They would receive looks of curiosity — and envy, of course. And he could proudly show her his origins, his culture, his home. She would not need a translator, so his role would be different than hers had been, but he hoped she would appreciate his company just the same.
After he bid her good evening once they arrived at their shared place of residence, he had laid down on the mat, and without much convincing, his mind settled on replaying their conversation at the hot spring.
He pictured her, standing next to him, staring at the Thames, the low light of the street lamps flickering across her beautiful features.
His breaths slowed as he sank into a deep sleep.
Oh, sweetie, it's great!
I always like how everyone in shogun's fandom, in this case johnmariko shippers, mutually agrees on how John's vision of Mariko is almost bordering on angelic, maybe celestial, even divine, and he will always think about what it would be like to take her to London — the detail that you put about how he loved the way the name of his city fell from her lips made so much sense! I was the same way when I saw the episode, Mariko has a soft way, when she wants to, of saying things, that when she said "London" I almost sighed — in addition to John's still recent slight cultural shock, the small changes and transformations in him are something slowly constructed and well constructed, making him almost proud to see, the way he noticed her change of opinion, about how her curiosity surfaced, consequently making her loosen up and ask more questions, smile more, that that made their relationship grow, not to the point of becoming mature, but to the point of taking shape.
I'm looking forward to part 2, take your time, but know that I loved it!
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graceloveswolves · 2 months
Note
Hey I was wondering if you still done ships? If you don't then just ignore this but I was wondering if I could get a ship with Supernatural?
Apperence: I am 5'0 tall, 120 ish lbs. I have shoulder length dark brown hair that looks black with plum highlights (basically look up blackberry colors hair on pinterest or Google and that's what I have) that's cut in this 70's or 80's female rocker shag mullet i guess just call it a wolfcut. I have pale skin with freckles and I have some stretch marks on my hips, love handles, and inner thighs. My eye color is Hazel but you can't really tell so people just thing I have light brown eyes. I have horrible vision so I have to wear glasses.
Personality: I honestly don't know what my personality is. Like I'm quiet so I come off as shy but in reality I'm really not and can actually be quite the chatterbox especially when it's a topic I am passionate about. But I really only talk to people when they talk to me first, I don't really like starting conversations. I can get really hyper and jump, dance, and sing when some music is playing that I like. I tend to make whatever I am into at the moment either it be a tv show, movie, or book my personality until I get bored and move onto the next one. I guess I have a hard time trusting people even if I known them for a long time and know that they would never hurt me especially when it comes to relationships and forms of intimacy like cuddling, kissing, ect. I don't like fighting verbal or physical but if it comes down to it I will hold my ground if I need to. I'm hard-headed and stubborn as a mule at times. But once you get to know me and gain my trust I'm pretty fun.
Likes/hobbies: I really like music almost any kind really. But my favorite is indie pop/alernative/rock and pop. I like to bake and cook. My favorite seasons are late spring and early fall when its warm but not to hot or too cold. I love to read almost everything right now I am reading The Grapes of Wrath. I really like learning about flowers especially ones that grow wild and I like to learn about different cultures too. I'm an artist so I'm drawing or painting a lot and it is not uncommon to find me with paint or pen marks on my arms and legs. My favorite color palette is pastels especially pastel purples, pinks, and blues. I really like looking at sunsets because of all the colors the sky turns.
I hope this is enough information about me! If you need more I am happy to add more.
Hello Beautiful!! I hope you are having a great day and thank you so much for the detail!! I love hearing about other people and learning all the kinds of personalities out in the world, also more detail gives me a stronger opinion and more to work with so thank you, you nailed it!
I ship you with.... Sam Winchester!
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I believe Sam is the most accurate ship for you and here is why...
You remind him of his brother, in all of the good ways. Your clothing and style with your hard headed/stubbornness gives him a sense of comfort and nostalgia with his good memories of his brother.
You both have common traits. You come off as shy, but are quite passionate when talking about your passions/interests. I believe Sam is very similar in this way, he reads and studies all kinds of lore and is usually the one that finds the most information in whatever case him and Dean are working on. I believe between all the characters he is the most "shy" out of the group. (Definitely more shy then Dean in my opinion) and we see him opt to do studying/research at the motel then interviewing/bar hopping like Dean does (reasons vary because of Dean's lack of interests in research but still)
This boy has trust issues too. Like Major. But the thing with Sam is that he opts for healthy healing and talking things out right there and then when he feels a certain way or if he senses other people (mostly Dean) harboring emotions or grudges against him. He rather talk calmly and work out whatever is going on without coming off in an attacking/aggressive manner, which is mostly why I chose him for you verses the rest of the characters because in the show we see Dean bottle up his emotions/hit/throw things when he gets angry even getting physical with Sam (although he would NEVER hit his significant other) . And Castiel doesn't really know how to handle human emotions and usually asks for advice from others or mishandles the situation with good intentions. Which can be very frustrating for someone who doesn't like conflict. I believe with the exception of Jack, Sam is #1 at trying to defuse conflict.
You both like reading. Again there's common ground with you two, I can see y'all both just chilling in the impala both reading the same book, casually asking each other opinions on the characters in the book you guys are reading or occasionally checking up to see where in the book you both are at. Even making book references that has Dean internally wondering if y'all are making jabs at him or not.
Anyways, all things considered I ship y'all and I think you both would get along the most.
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