#Equality Statement Tee

[noisycowboyglitter]

Excuse Me, I’m Speaking: Elevate Your Speaking Skills Today

"Excuse Me, I'm Speaking" is a powerful phrase that has gained prominence in recent years, particularly in the context of gender dynamics and professional discourse. It encapsulates the struggle many individuals, especially women, face when trying to be heard in various settings.

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This phrase serves as a firm yet polite assertion of one's right to complete a thought or argument without interruption. It highlights the common occurrence of people, often women or minorities, being talked over, dismissed, or having their ideas appropriated in conversations, meetings, or public forums.

The statement gained widespread attention during the 2020 U.S. Vice Presidential debate when then-candidate Kamala Harris used it to reclaim her speaking time. This moment resonated with many who have experienced similar situations, sparking discussions about respect, equality, and communication etiquette in professional and personal spheres.

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Beyond its literal meaning, "Excuse Me, I'm Speaking" has become a rallying cry for those advocating for equal representation and respect in various fields. It encourages individuals to stand up for themselves and demand the space to express their thoughts fully.

The phrase also invites reflection on conversation dynamics, urging listeners to be more aware of their behavior and to practice active listening. It challenges societal norms that often allow for the interruption or dismissal of certain voices.

The phrase "Funny Kamala Harris Joe Biden Trump" evokes a complex political landscape filled with moments of unintentional comedy and satirical commentary. It refers to the often-humorous interactions, gaffes, and rivalries between these prominent American political figures.

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Vice President Kamala Harris, known for her occasional awkward laughter, President Joe Biden with his tendency for verbal slip-ups, and former President Donald Trump with his unique speaking style and Twitter habits, have all provided ample material for comedians, memes, and political satire.

Their contrasting personalities and communication styles have led to numerous memorable and sometimes absurd moments in American politics. From debate stage confrontations to social media mishaps, these figures have become central characters in the ongoing political theater that often blurs the line between serious policy discussions and unintentional comedy.

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This keyword encapsulates the lighter, more entertaining side of recent U.S. political history, reflecting the public's appetite for humor in the often tense world of politics.

[legalownerofufoemoji]

Hi your friendly neighborhood Satt/Tee/直斗 here, this is your yearly pride announcement that both "not all intersex people are queer inherently" and "an intersex person calling themselves queer means they are queer even if you don't understand" are both true statements at the same time! And if you don't respect ALL types of intersex people and include them in your fight for equal rights, get the fuck off my blog, thanks!

[cherrygirlystuff]

Grunge Gatherings: Your Guide to Indie Sleaze Socials

Hey babe! 🌸 Ready to throw it back to those epic indie sleaze gatherings that defined a generation? Welcome to Grunge Gatherings, where we’re diving into the social side of the indie sleaze scene. From house parties and underground gigs to DIY events and everything in between, we’ve got all the tips and outfit guides you need to host a gathering that’s straight-up legendary. So grab your friends, crank up the tunes, and let’s get this party started! 🎉🎸

Grunge Gatherings: Bringing the Indie Sleaze Vibe to Your Social Life 🌟

The indie sleaze scene wasn’t just about the music or the fashion—it was about the community, the connections, and the unforgettable nights spent with friends. Whether you’re planning a chill house party, an underground gig, or a spontaneous get-together, nailing the indie sleaze vibe is all about creating a space where everyone feels free to be themselves. Ready to dive in? Let’s break it down!

1. House Parties: The Heart of Indie Sleaze Socials 🎉

House parties were the epitome of indie sleaze culture—intimate, unpretentious, and totally epic. Here’s how to throw a house party that captures the spirit of the era:

DIY Decor: Forget fancy decorations—think more along the lines of DIY. Use old band posters, string lights, and thrift store finds to create a laid-back, eclectic vibe. Throw up some fairy lights, hang up vintage records, and scatter some candles around for a cozy, grungy feel.

Music is Key: Curate a playlist that’s equal parts nostalgic and eclectic. Mix in some classic indie anthems with lesser-known tracks for that perfect indie vibe. If you can, set up a turntable for spinning vinyl—it adds a touch of authenticity and gives your party that extra edge.

Comfort Over Style: Create a space that’s comfortable and inviting. Think bean bags, floor cushions, and cozy blankets. Your friends will appreciate having a place to relax, chat, and soak in the music.

Chill Vibes: Keep the mood relaxed and laid-back. Encourage people to bring their own drinks and snacks to keep things casual. The goal is to create a space where everyone feels at home and can let loose.

Outfit Guide for House Parties:

Grungy Chic: Opt for distressed jeans, oversized band tees, and vintage leather jackets. Comfort is key, so keep your look effortless and cool.

Layer Up: Throw on a flannel shirt over your tee or a beanie to complete your look. Don’t be afraid to mix textures and patterns for that signature indie sleaze style.

2. Underground Gigs: Embracing the DIY Music Scene 🎸

Underground gigs were the heartbeat of the indie sleaze scene—raw, unfiltered, and totally exhilarating. Here’s how to channel that energy into your own DIY music event:

Find the Right Venue: Look for local spots that have that gritty, underground vibe—basements, warehouses, or even your own garage can work. The key is to find a space that feels authentic and intimate.

Lineup and Promotion: Get in touch with up-and-coming bands and solo artists who embody the indie spirit. Use social media, local flyers, and word of mouth to spread the word. The more grassroots your promotion, the more genuine the vibe.

DIY Decor and Setup: Keep it simple but impactful. Use string lights, old concert posters, and DIY signage to create a low-key but lively atmosphere. Set up a small stage area with a makeshift backdrop for added effect.

Food and Drinks: Offer simple refreshments—think snacks, drinks, and maybe a few homemade treats. Keep it casual and easy to manage so you can focus on enjoying the music and the company.

Outfit Guide for Underground Gigs:

Edgy Elegance: Go for something that looks effortlessly cool yet practical. Think skinny jeans, band tees, and sturdy boots. Layer with a denim jacket or a leather vest for added flair.

Statement Accessories: Add some grungy accessories like chunky rings, layered necklaces, and vintage pins. These little details can elevate your look and make you stand out in the crowd.

3. Spontaneous Get-Togethers: Embracing the Impromptu Vibes ✨

Sometimes the best gatherings are the ones that aren’t planned. Embrace those spontaneous moments with these tips:

Easygoing Planning: Keep it simple—whether you’re meeting at a local park, your favorite café, or even just hanging out at someone’s house, make sure the vibe is relaxed and easygoing.

Casual Activities: Think laid-back activities like a DIY craft session, a movie marathon, or just chilling with some good tunes. The goal is to keep things fun and informal.

Flexible Dress Code: Since these get-togethers are more about spontaneity than style, go for an outfit that’s comfy and effortlessly cool. Think relaxed jeans, vintage tees, and your favorite sneakers.

Outfit Guide for Spontaneous Get-Togethers:

Effortless Cool: Throw on a pair of high-waisted jeans, a graphic tee, and some chunky boots. Add a beanie or a bandana for a touch of grunge.

Layer Smartly: Since these gatherings can be casual, layer with a denim jacket or a lightweight sweater for easy changes in weather or mood.

Final Thoughts, Gorgeous: Bringing the Indie Sleaze Vibe to Life 🌟

There you have it, babe—your ultimate guide to hosting and dressing for indie sleaze gatherings! Whether you’re throwing a cozy house party, organizing an underground gig, or just planning a spontaneous hangout, the key is to keep it genuine, relaxed, and full of that signature indie spirit. With the right mix of decor, music, and outfits, you’ll create gatherings that are unforgettable and totally on point.

What’s your go-to for indie sleaze gatherings? Share your tips and stories in the comments—I’d love to hear how you’re bringing the grunge glamour to life! 💕

[fernandopiastri28]

Quand c’est next part Pls

quand c’est - part 8 ~ ln4 x op81

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

This is fucking, hardly making love.

Maybe that makes the praise mean more to him, that it’s out of its usual environment, but maybe it means less too. Oscar’s probably only saying it to make Lando feel better, because he fears that he’s the only one enjoying it.

He’s half right, Lando admits.

Warnings: sickness, illness, cancer, not enjoyable smut

Oscar squeezes into the bathroom stall, his chest pressed into Lando’s back as they try to make the best of the tight fit. “Really, Lans? You’re sure you wanna do it here and not when we land in Monaco?” 

Lando laughs, looking at Oscar’s face in the reflection of the mirror. He has a smug and delighted expression on, tinted with slight discomfort- obviously forced. He can try and act like he doesn’t want this as much as he wants- but Lando knows him, he knows he’s excited.

“Fucking hell Lando, you’re gonna be the death of me,” Oscar grunts, pulling the clasp on the door shut, locking them in. “Seriously,” He pants, resting his forehead on Lando’s shoulder. Lando can feel Oscar’s breath through the fabric of his shirt, having stripped down to one of Oscar’s quadlock black tees. 

“You love me,” Lando grins at him over his shoulder, his back achy at the forced twist to face Oscar. Oscar rolls his eyes, cupping Lando’s cheek with one of his hands, their faces so close together it physically hurts Lando to not be kissing him right then.

Oscar’s free hand slides up the front of Lando’s shirt, hitching it up high enough that he can see the bottom of Lando’s stomach in the reflection of the mirror. Fuck, tan skin stretched taut over a pack of well defined abs- it’s enough to make a man go crazy.

Oscar is crazy, Lando makes him crazy.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Oscar’s breath is shaky in Lando’s ear- eager and desperate. Lando murmurs an equal statement back, taking Oscar’s bottom lip inbetween his teeth and gently suckling. Their lips pull apart and together stickily, like sharing a melting ice cream. Oscar’s hand bunches up some of Lando’s curls in it, pulling him infinitely closer. 

If Lando opens his eyes, he can count each spot on Oscar’s face, each individual hair of his eyebrows and study each intricacy of his moles across his neck. But he keeps them closed, focusing on the sensation- rather than the image.

Lando wants to be slow, take their time. Maybe he’s being irrational, maybe he’s being overdramatic- but he seriously doesn’t know how much longer he’s gonna be up to doing these kinds of things.

In a plane is a bad example, but he’s not even thinking just about sex- he’s thinking about anything involving getting off or helping Oscar to, sloppy makeouts, even kisses longer than a peck.

What if his new meds completely destroy his sex drive? Even though Oscar becomes a complete sex demon when they’re already in the act or getting worked up to it- he’s rarely the one to initiate anything between them, near to never even, so how’s their sex life gonna be when Lando eventually gets too weak and unmotivated to try and start up anything?

He’s never really grown out of the horny teenager who gets a boner when the wind changes direction, so it’s weird to think of a future that consists of him not getting hard just seeing Oscar strip down.

If he wasn’t already hard, he would be working his way up from half chubbed just at the mental image.

And like that, he forcibly pulls himself out of his mind because why the fuck is he thinking about not wanting to have sex when he is quite literally having his ass violated and non existent tits groped by Oscar.

It’s all very welcomed and appreciated- to be fair.

“Osc- shit ,” He grunts, pushing his trackies down. His black boxers are straining across his erection, begging for release. “Fuck- we need lube,” He tips his head back to rest on Oscar’s shoulder this time, enough that he can see Oscar’s grimacing expression.

“Can’t really just slip out of here and ask Mark for some, can I?” Oscar groans, working on pushing his own pants down. Lando’s lip quirks up, like he’s still hopeful and encouraging that, ‘hey, maybe Mark would understand!’. “No, Lando, I’m not gonna waltz out of here, clearly hard, and wake up my manager to ask if he has any lubricant,” Oscar sighs, clearly irritated by their shared screw up, “How would I even ask? ‘ Hey Mark! Just wondering if you had any lube on hand? I wanna rail Lando in the bathrooms like 10 feet from you and I want it to be nice and wet?’,”  

Lando cringes at Oscar’s choice of words, “He’s probably been in this exact position with Fernando at least once before,” Lando insists, trying to convince Oscar, who turns pink at the thought of his manager and his grid dad boning in a plane bathroom just like him and his boyfriend are doing. 

“Nghm, don’t bring those two up- please,” Oscar moans against Lando’s cheek, grinding into him mindlessly. “Can we just use spit? I’ll be really gentle,”

As much as Lando is near desperate for Oscar to at least ask Mark, he knows logically it would probably end in a lecture for the both of them, so he shuts up and sighs, “Okay,” He smiles at Oscar, pecking him softly. He is excited, he’s fucking crazy hard right now, so he doesn’t know why he’s acting like this- acting so hesitant to do things with his boyfriend. “Yeah- yeah, just be gentle,” He reiterates.

“Gentle, gentle,” Oscar smiles, putting together his index and middle finger, before resting them on Lando’s bottom lip. Lando opens his mouth, letting Oscar’s digits soak in the warmth of his wet mouth- enough so they're plenty wet.

He laps his tongue over them, coating them in spit, enough so that there’s a string of saliva connecting Lando’s mouth to Oscar’s fingers when he pulls them away. “We’ve gotta stay quiet,” Oscar reminds him, and it feels scandalous, like their relationship is top secret and so wrong. 

Lando braces himself against the wall, his arms flexing to keep himself unmoving as Oscar’s wet index finger traces his rim. Fuck , he wants it over with already. Then he’s already in until the knuckle, kissing Lando’s neck as a reassurance. It feels good, but it’s different. Maybe it’s the lack of lube, maybe it’s because they’re in a plane bathroom- maybe Lando just doesn’t want it as much as he thought he did. 

He pushes his hips backwards, Oscar going deeper. Lando closes his eyes, lets his forehead fall limply against the cold glass of the mirror. His cheek smushes up against it, and more of Oscar pushes into him. A full finger, then a second one, then a third one- the slowest and most painful. Awkward drags of it, in and out. 

Lando wants to sub out, he should say no, he should call red light. Oscar looks like he’s enjoying it though, smirking and panting as he kisses all over Lando’s tense body.

So he doesn’t tell him to stop, instead, he begs for more. It’ll feel better soon, he’s sure of it. 

He’s scared that if he says no, he accepts defeat- he accepts his fate. He allows the illness to control him, he gives away his pleasure and satisfaction. “Yes, yes - right there, Osc,” He forces his own voice quieter, not allowing Mark to hear, keeping those lies just between him and Oscar. 

Oscar smiles, chanting praises into Lando’s pink ears, ‘I love you, baby’, ‘You feel so good around me’, ‘I wanna be inside you so bad’. Lando feels better, feels warm and safe with Oscar all around him, all inside him.

And then it’s good, like a switch of a light, he’s enjoying it. 

Osc, Osc, Osc. The name is like a mantra in Lando’s mind as fingers are replaced with the burning stretch of his boyfriend. More, more, more- Lando pulls his face away from being squished into the mirror, looking into the mirror. He looks at himself, his desperate fucked out face, his sweaty hair pressed into his forehead, the empty void settled behind his eyes. 

He looks like he did that night on the bathroom floor. He looks like the first time he saw himself in a mirror at the hospital. He looks like the illness that is slowly ruining his body and his mind. 

But it’s good, this is good, it feels good. Good, good, good. He looks up at Oscar, meeting his eyes in the reflection. It’s only for a moment there, but Lando swears he sees a flickering change of emotion from the Australian. Regret? Sympathy? Unenjoyment? 

He can’t read Oscar a lot of the time, especially when it matters, like now.

“I’m close,” Oscar rocks into him, slower and more calculated. It genuinely feels good—Lando isn’t faking the pleasure now. “You're—god—you're so beautiful, Lans, I love you,” He gets sappy, the kind of emotional Oscar that usually only comes out in late night desperate ‘making-love’ sessions. 

This is fucking, hardly making love.

Maybe that makes the praise mean more to him, that it’s out of its usual environment, but maybe it means less too. Oscar’s probably only saying it to make Lando feel better, because he fears that he’s the only one enjoying it.

He’s half right, Lando admits.

A calloused palm wraps around Lando’s neglected length, which he’d forgotten about himself. He’d been so wrapped up in his own mind that he’d forgotten he had his own needs and wants. The strokes are shaky, uncontrolled, and so perfect. Bated breaths fill the tight room, both desperately chasing their impending finishes. It’s a race for who can finish last, completely opposite of their usual goal on track.

Oscar pulls out at the last second available, finishing himself up in a tissue, only to be discarded into the toilet bowl. It’s too much of an effort to clean Lando up, especially in such an awkward fit like this. Lando follows soon after, into Oscar’s palm, his body giving up on him. 

Oscar gets them both dressed again, looking like nothing happened besides the clear exhaustion and exertion on their faces. Lando’s headache thrums painfully as Oscar wipes him down, kissing his forehead. Neither of them talk, which could seem harsh and cold, but it’s just what Lando needs—silence. 

Lando walks out of the stall first, taking his seat and buckling up. His face is red and clammy, his palms the same. Oscar follows soon after, fluffing up his pillow before giving it to Lando without another word. Lando shifts in his seat, awkwardly unable to sit comfortably. He accepts the pillow gratefully, placing it against Oscar’s side so he can lean into it and sleep.

It’s not the best sleep, nor is he particularly comfortable at all, but for the next 9 hours of a 13 hour flight, he sleeps like a fucking log, and that’s good enough for him.

[vagabond-umlaut]

ramé 2.0

love.

a word everyone spells as l-o-v-e, except one certain young sorcerer – to whom it appears h-a-p-p-y, to whom it appears h-a-v-o-c – to whom it appears the shape of the letters of your name.

you, on the other hand, forget how to spell when the same word is before you – a fact which, your admirer reckons, would have been a major problem were he not he – that is, were he not the one and only 'gojo satoru'.

and thus begins, the plan.

and thus begins, the six steps to catch one's crush's eye — by the six eyes.

|2/6| display your strengths.

[READ 1.0 HERE!]

▸ student!gojo satoru x student!reader; fem!reader; satoru tries to amp up his game but you don't let him, amping up 'your' game instead - something clear as day to all but you [why're you like this? so cute, so smart but so oblivious *smh*]; fluff & humor & adorable banter ft. the student ensemble from '05 [when times were happier, when times were brighter, when- *breaks down sobbing in new jjk s2 trailer noises*]

▸ this was supposed to be posted on wednesday... damn you mappa for forcing me to post this on sunday itself. [also, did you look at the loml? he looks so... ugh. i can't even describe the numbing effect that shades-wearing idiot [my our shades-wearing idiot] has on me.

▸ find other parts of 'ramé' and other [stand-alone] fics set in the same universe as this work here! anyways, image, divider & characters ain't mine. pls don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

being a show-off is what gojo's the best at - besides yearning for you from afar, that is.

a wide grin stays on his face as he watches you approach him, a tad ahead of your classmates - two boys, nanami kento and haibara yu.

being in the first year, neither of you three can take part in the kyoto sister-school goodwill event - that doesn't stop you all from being spectators, though - which is what's enough for the gojo's plans.

a call of his name drags him away from gazing at you - you look good in that tee of his, you accidentally shrunk in the laundry - and twists back to find his teacher frowning at him.

the second-year finds it hard to wear the same grin. "yo yaga sensei, what's up?"

the man lets out a long-drawn sigh.

"don't overdo it, satoru," he says - the boy opens his mouth, ready to retort with a quip - only to be stopped by an unfamiliar expression overcoming the teacher's features.

it's a horrific insult of a smile, the young sorcerer realizes after a beat.

yaga, meanwhile, continues with that same expression, "i too was young once. i can understand what you're going through now - which is why i won't stop you from showing your talents to her or whatever. just... remember no one should die."

a quiet nod is all the boy manages in reply, too overwhelmed for a bit by the fatherly care yaga insists on giving him despite the annoyance suguru and he equally insist on being to their sensei.

with a pat on the shoulder, yaga leaves in the direction of the other faculty and staff. schooling his expression, gojo shoots suguru a look.

"hey suguru, how did yaga get to know about me and her?"

"who is her, gojo senpai?" a sweet voice chips in, soon followed by your teasing grin floating into his line of vision.

the boy averts his gaze for a beat - flustered by the sheer proximity between both of your faces which could be closed were he not such a coward, stop smirking, suguru - before sending you a wounded look.

"since when did i become gojo senpai to you?"

"since today," you reply with a tight smile. gojo doesn't like it one bit on your face. "i've been asked by the higher-ups to act professional with you."

a moment passes - wherein the boy registers the statement - before red flashes in his vision. placing his hands on your shoulders, he asks, or rather, demands to know, "did they hurt you? or threaten you? give me their names. who were those fucking bastards?"

brows furrowing, you place your much smaller hands atop his. "relax. nothing happened," you whisper, so quiet only he can hear it, "they don't have the guts or power to hurt or threaten me. all they told me is to, i quote, refrain from calling you such terms of endearment again. and i was like, okay."

a small smile settles on your lips as you take his hands in yours and start rubbing circles into them. the boy feels a lot of his tension drain away. smile brightening (you too seem to have realized the effects of this gesture on him), you add, "plus, it's only four years. once we've both graduated, i can get back to calling you whatever i want to call. those old geezers can't direct me then."

"they still can't now..." gojo begins - then stops.

with that bootlicker eldest brother you have, those old rats can now.

you give him a tired smile, words unneeded to confirm that the both of you are indeed cursing the same set of people now.

you open your mouth to say something - funny probably, if the shine in your eyes was anything to go by - before a muted cough pops the bubble you two had unconsciously slipped into.

and with an entertained smirk at the boy, who immediately seperates your linked hands, shoko informs, "sensei's calling for you, gojo. the competition's about to begin."

acknowledging her with a brief nod, gojo returns his focus to you, looking for a sliver of fear or anxiety in your face - one he'll soothe away with a gentle smile and maybe, just maybe, a forehead kiss - only for all his dreams to be dashed in the dirt.

you're peering up at him, beaming excitedly.

"go, beat 'em, senpai," you cheer him with a fist pump. an amused snicker sounds somewhere behind. your zeal doesn't budge one bit. "go, kick those kyoto students' asses. i know you will win."

and win, your white-haired senpai does - nothing new it it.

and you too seem to be very happy at it - again nothing new in it.

'cause when do you not congratulate him with a blinding beam every time the boy is successful - be it at making those pretty origami stars the way you taught him to; or at defeating a weakass sorcerer in a lame match.

however what is new is the fact you've grown rather competitive - not that gojo minds it in the slightest, though. quite the contrary, in fact.

"aren't you being a little too confident?" you inquire, throwing him a peeved glance, "every opponent you face in the future won't be as weak as those two kyoto boys today. you sure you'll stay invincible then too?"

resting his chin on the chair he is straddling, the second-year smirks, "any way you can prove i won't, shortie?"

geto sends him a questioning look while ieiri looks away from them to the scenery outside, giving a long sigh. his other two kouhais, nanami and haibara, pause in their game of cards to look at you, confusedly.

gojo observes you ignore them, eyes trained on him only, lips curving slowly into a sharp grin. gods, can you get any lovelier than this?

"well..." you drawl, keeping your focus on him. a flush creeps up the sides of his neck, which he earnestly hopes goes overlooked by you.

it doesn't go overlooked by your too-serious classmate, though - gojo spots nanami's eyes widen for a mere instant before reverting to their typical indifference.

you continue, grin simmering to a daring smile now, "why don't you find it out on your own tomorrow? twelve noon. practice field. what do you think, senpai?"

the sorcerer pretends to take a moment to regard your proposal, then shrugs. "sure, why not? sounds good enough to me."

with a wordless nod, the boy watches you return to the video game you were playing with his best friend - then look back at him on your name being called. an eyebrow rises in silent question.

seeing that the cue, he asks, "but what will the loser have to do?"

the reply comes with a smirk, your eyes dropping to your game. "you can buy me the latest version of this game. that'll be fine, i guess."

gojo was wrong - said person realizes as he watches the orange-red glow seep in through the window and render you an ethereal glow.

your competitiveness isn't the only thing new to him this evening.

your ability to make him even more head over heels for you than the boy already is (an impossible feat, really, given the chains and locks guarding him within, apart from the layer of infinity without)...

...this is yet another new thing gojo learns about you, this evening.

▸ series: we're the summer to our winter rain

▸ masterlist

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Mini costume meta

Gonna throw in a very mini costume meta because now I’ve got a proper look at Bucks velvet jacket I am having a lot - and I mean a lot of feelings about it.

For starters this jacket is not maroon - it is burgundy and that is an important distinction. maroon is a more brown toned colour while burgundy is a more red and purple toned colour and they have very different meanings. 

I’m not sure how easily you can see it from these two pictures, but the tee Buck wears when he tells Christopher about Eddie getting shot - in 4x14 - is much more brown toned, while the velvet suit jacket has much more of a purplish tone to it (i’m hoping for better pictures of the suit jacket when the episode actually airs as the screenshots I grabbed are not the best!!)

So Like I’ve said in previous metas, maroon has been used in scenes where a character is taking on some form of parental role - this is something thats been going on since season 1 and its been used on pretty much all the characters. Buck telling Chris about the shooting is the most obvious example, but Eddie in the last episode when Buck went over to the Diaz house was making Christopher's lunch - a parental thing. We’ve also seen Bobby in maroon a fair amount when he’s needed to step into a parental role - think back to Bobby telling Harry he needed to clear the table - that he couldn’t be best buddy Bobby anymore, and needed to be step dad Bobby and so on. 

Maroon is thought to promote comfort and warmth, it is also a colour of strength and maturity - all things associated with parenthood. It is also a colour often associated with drying blood which connects it to the idea of blood ties - which equals family ties.

Then we have burgundy - a colour of sophistication. It’s a powerful colour commonly associated with refinement - stemming from the idea that a Burgundy wine is among the best and most expensive in the world. This association also means Burgundy is associated with wealth - the perfect colour for Buck to be wearing while he’s winning at poker!

The other thing about burgundy though is that it is also associated with lust, passion and desire - it is a colour very much connected with romance and deep love as it is a deep form of red!

Combined with the black of the rest of the outfit, including the black wide peaked satin lapels, which is a colour of elegance, sophistication, power and seduction, as well as the choice of velvet and satin for the blazer - two fabrics considered to be symbols of wealth luxury and sophistication I think it’s safe to say that this outfit is very much an outfit one would chose for a date. Peaked lapels are an interesting choice - they are the most difficult lapel to achieve and are considered the mark of an accomplished tailor - hinting at the idea that Buck has been on a difficult journey, but will achieve success with it. it can also hint at him being accomplished at cards!

Its also worth mentioning that velvet as a word is a slang term for money acquired through gambling 👀👀👀 

Last thing to note is that Eddie is not the only one wearing a new and more blingy watch - Buck is also wearing a new one - we only get a couple of very brief glimpses and I’m hoping we’ll see a bit more of it once the episode airs, but I am very literally screaming over it. (you can see a tiny glimpse in the still below)

Buck has had the same watch since season 1 - no deviations, just the same watch! and now - now we get a new one! Post dying, post coma dream, post Buck going to the Diaz house and sleeping on the couch and post Buck appearing all contemplative and figuring things out at the end of last episode we see Buck in a new watch!!!!

The fact that they both appear to be wearing metal watches means we have the possibility that their watches are going to potentially match up, because metal watches are more showy and confident - they’re less practical (especially if you’re a fire fighter) and are therefore much more about making a statement of some sort. Them both wearing them for the first time at the same time is a choice! Not to mention the fact that while Eddies watch is out and proud - on display for everyone to see, Bucks is mostly hidden - we only get to see a tiny part of it for a moment. The idea that Eddie is confident and essentially putting this new version of himself out there for people to see, while Buck is ‘on the same page’ but still mostly hiding his new self - he’s still uncertain about it etc is a choice - especially as we’ve seen watch theory around Buck expand much more this season than previously! I should also mention the fact that the show very loudly made a big thing about Michael buying David a watch as an engagement gift - rather than a ring - and we don’t see any other (male)  characters wearing metal watches, so for them to choose now to put Eddie in a metal watch as well as possibly Buck is making a very purposeful connection!!

I really can’t wait to see if we’re going to get more of these watches - if we do I’m expecting we’ll only see them connected to Buddie developments and that they’ll revert to their normal watches for other non work scenes (I’m expecting the brown leather strap watch for whatever date(s) Pepa has set Eddie up on!!)!

[misc-obeyme]

Okay and once again the last Lesson 14 spoilers are about Solomon because I’m obsessed with him…

I can’t stop thinking about the way he couldn’t finish the story of his past.

What happened?? Who hurt him?? My poor boy…

Once again though we are given a choice. Solomon and humanity or Lucifer and his brothers. Only saying that you’ll be by Solomon’s side no matter what takes you to the option to kiss him. He gushes about how much he loves you too. It’s really sweet actually.

However I’m a little confused. As usual.

This game I swear…

Is this just a Solomon theme? Or is this something that’s actually going to happen at some point in the story? I don’t like having to choose. But saying that you’ll find another way just makes Solomon say something sad about not having a choice (like he did he says… so I think the reason he keeps bringing this up is because of whatever happened to him in the past).

He also talks a lot about humanity being equal to demons and angels. That’s his motivation for having as many pacts as possible. And if that’s true then I think that’s pretty noble right?

I mean yeah I agree with this statement.

But again… none of that really makes sense in the context of our current timeline. I never got the impression that humanity was seen as lesser by either side? Or that they were heavily involved in human life? Certainly not to the point that a sorcerer should feel he needs to dedicate his life to protecting humanity from them.

So the question is once again how much of this indicates deceit from Solomon and how much of it is just… devs retconning stuff?

In the end, that’s the question it almost always comes back to for me. I’m usually pretty good at figuring out where a story is going. But because I can’t tell if they’re just retconning stuff or not, it’s really making it hard for me.

Also there’s no doubt that this game has a history of throwing out random lore that we then never hear about again. So everything anyone says might be super important, but it might also be completely unimportant.

Either way, I love Solomon and I want to know why he couldn’t finish his story because that to me is important. I feel like that’s the key to understanding him and all of this.

And even though I have questioned him in the past, I love him so much and I want him to be happy.

Though I will say that I kinda love the idea of an MC who chooses him and the human world over demons and the Devildom. Like in the end, they both go back to the human world to be the most powerful sorcerers of all time who protect humanity together… now I wanna write a fic about it tee hee.

Siigh this man has my whole heart.

[killerbananas]

Amaranthine

Porco, just running and using his mouth to everyone’s dis/advantage.

🔞 mdni | masterlist | 1,113 wc | afab!reader x Porco

Warnings: smut; panty gagging, semi-public sex, rough sex, heavier degradation/humiliation, dom/sub tones, tail plug mentioned briefly, creampie, solo masturbation, praise kink, overstimulation, breath play

AN: Repost from my old account.

amaranthine (adjective): (1) of or like the amaranth; (2) unfading; everlasting; (3) of purplish-red color.

Porco likes seeing your body in any state. When you’re a sweaty mess after working outside. When you wake up to pee at midnight and wiggle back into his arms, sometimes in one of his tees or simple lace. If you ever chose to try a tail plug, you bet he’d be yanking on it constantly like it’s your ponytail.

Porco is magnetized by the drop of sweat that glides down from your neck to your chest and disappears into your cleavage. He’d follow the drop with his tongue if he could, but public displays like that are a little harder to execute. He catches your smirk as you watch him watching you and he fights the blush creeping onto his face, the brazen nature of you teasing him ruffling him up a bit. Maybe he’ll just have to stuff those pretty lace panties he caught you putting on, in your mouth and fuck you behind the diner in which you’re about to eat. He’d give you lunch to make it up to him, but he was pretty sure you wouldn’t. Hand clamping over your mouth forty minutes later, he pats himself on the back for being correct.

“Hands on the wall, princess.”

Porco is excellent at humiliation/degradation talk and knows how to get his partner weakest in the knees if he’s so inclined.

His hand wraps around your throat and all you can think about is his presence and how his girthy cock is splitting you open slowly while you writhe in his lap. His pressure increases as he lifts you more by his grip and it encourages you to squirm, stimulating him as he watches your expression for reactions to his changes. A different angle from his hips. Nipping along your jawline. Inscribing your skin with amaranthine gems meant to garner attention and profess possession simultaneously. Just waiting for you to try to utter the words he was waiting to hear.

“Please, Sir. I’m sorry. I’d like to try again, ‘wanna show you.”

“Not sure if you deserve the opportunity, slut. In fact, I don’t think you deserve this cock right now at all.”

His leaving of your channel rips a little bit of your sanity out with it, the vacated space filling immediately with mounting tension to do what Porco is telling you, as well as a little madness. You either get full of him again, bury him deep inside your clenching snatch, or you’ll murder him. Since it would be easier to comply, you focus your attention on what he needs you to do even if it does turn out to be a command to fuck your own hand because you have to show that you’re such a tool for his dick that you’ll rut against your digits like a cockdumb whore. He’s a cocky fucker. He’s right, but he doesn’t need to be so smug about it. So, like a good girl, you do what you’re told.

[…]

“I knew I could get you to work yourself up like that. I know you won’t tell me how much you love my cock because you’re afraid it’ll inflate my ego, but you can’t hide it when you look like you could eat me alive and hump your hand like a horny lush drooling over my prick. Your eyes tell me you’re the neediest fucking slut I’ve ever seen for my dick, but your pride won’t let me indulge you because you can’t admit it.”

He slips his finger, which is surprisingly coated in precome and pleasantly tangy, into your mouth when you gasp at his statement, aroused and indignant in equal measure.

“Let me show you how good I can make you feel, babygirl. Give it up to me and let me take care of you. You know the safeword. Now use your fucking words and tell me how you feel about my cock.”

He keeps his fingers shoved in your mouth, forcing you to talk around them, some saliva escaping the corner of your mouth and dripping off your chin. It brings a neon blush to your cheeks that nearly fries your eyeballs with its heat while also inspiring you to consider throttling him only slightly less intensely than usual because he’s stroking his perfect dick with his free hand and your eyes are just glued to it like he’s magnetic.

The pleas flee your lips like mutinous nymphs gliding onward, revealing your soul in snippets to Porco’s perceptive gaze and ears. He decodes the notes in your trailing mewls and whimpers, carefully clearing the tears that disobediently creep from your raw desire to the surface with tender nudging gestures of his own face to yours. His hands are busy, after all.

The desire to be filled until your mind cannot focus on anything besides your partner breaks over your conscious tidally and threatens to drown you in its intensity until you find yourself cradled against Porco. He mouths every area that catches his attention. Your collarbone, nipple and tender curve of your breast, the lovehandle he has to bruise when he fucks you from behind.

“So beautiful, babe. I’m gonna make you come with me now while I fill up your cunt. It’s mine to use, right? My little fucksleeve. You’ve been so good for me, so open. That means you’re coming with me and I’m just-here-give me your legs. Shh, it’s okay. Tuck your head here on my chest and your knees-perfect.”

He grabs your hips and sets a pace that entices you both to burst with mounting energy. His rare tender affection translates as the kind of touches that bring happy tears to your eyes, soul warm and comforted as the maddening tension finally flares to a bright pain that is immediately chased by overwhelming, spine-bending pleasure. His orgasm crests concurrently and he works to fuck every escaping drop right back inside of you, hating the waste. He overstimulates you both by rubbing his head feather-touch light against your clit, watching as strings of your combined fluids web thickly, lewdly between the two pleasure points. He captures some on his thumb, sticking it into his mouth and grinning sinfully. It works in your favor because he’s distracted enough to not realize you’re about to bite his neck, making him clamp down on his own thumb while he throbs in crisp hypersensitivity, smashing his hips into your belly and just rutting hopelessly against you, much like you’d done to your own hand previously.

You’re both slaves to the infectious haze of lust that has him shoving back inside you two minutes later and fucking you into the mattress, running his fucking mouth in your ear.

Taglist: @aotwarriorsimp @alexpro-nwn @animediplomat @antoxsmith @armoredpotato @aviinnit @beffjurky @blondeboyfriend @casuallyck @cherrxs @dearbaji @erwinsbaby @eyesucket @fairypiku @fandomficsobsession @fujoneshi @holographicceo @hinasakuino @interfectio-mortales @kenryug @koulakoukoula2003 @kxkyuu-main @lavenderdaisyhoney   @mybadluckshouldmakemefamous @chaotic-nick @nathalunalune @notgoodforlife @arsonszn @pockcock @poursomesunaonme @scouts-stuff @seychellse @shigarakiapologist @soaringmirror @sparklekitteh @stigandr-the-cat @syrma-sensei @reiners-milkbiddies @tiffanyy-21 @tonaken @torapologist @touyyes @we-are-so-close

[writingforfishes]

Hicvember: Pinocchio

Fandom: Gr1mm Characters: M0nroe Ros@alee N1ck H@nk Ad@lind Glori@ (mentioned) DeEtt@ (mentioned) Definitions/Lore: Gr1mm-a person with the ability to see We5en when they don't want to be seen. Killers of We5en, historically. We5en-a person who has the "soul" of another creature/being. They can change forms with emotion (unseen by normal humans) or intentionally (seen by everyone) Inspired many fables from the Brother's Gr1mm, the namesake/family of those who have the ability to see them. Blutb@den-(singular: Blutb@d) The "Big Bad Wolf" Fuchsb@u- Fox-like We5en Hex3nbie5ts- Witch-like We5en

CW:

long hiccups

painful hiccups

fast hiccups

allegory for recovery group

mentions of past drug addiction

mentioned pregnancy

heterosexual relationship (tee)

adorable relationship dynamics

domestic tiff

mother-in-law tropes

“So, basically what you’re saying is anyone who touched the amulet would be affected,” H@nk said, the detective taking a deep, cleansing breath in a way he hadn’t been able to a moment before.

“Yes,” Ad@lind confirmed as she shifted back from her Hex3nbei5t form.

“Man, my chest hurts,” N1ck muttered. He rubbed his muscles with a wince.

“Yeah,” H@nk said, “but think of how lucky you are to have this happen now and not while you were still with Juli3tte. Man, the lies you told. We lie enough at our jobs as it is…”

N1ck winced for another reason as H@nk’s statement sunk in.

Ad@lind met his eyes with an equal amount of sympathy and mischievous amusement.

“You might have died from suffocation,” she quipped.

“Okay, okay,” N1ck protested holding his hands up to stave off any other reminders of how horribly he’d handled his past relationship. “Just glad it’s over.”

“As long as no one else touched the amulet no one else should be affected. I’ve nullified the magic so it won’t cause any...disturbances to anyone else again,” Ad@lind said, still handling the object delicately.

A beat passed between N1ck and H@nk before realization simultaneously donned on them and they said together, “M0nroe!”

“Crap,” Ad@lind sighed, knowing she’d have to now do the whole ceremony again. “I’ll...remake what I need and you get to him before it becomes a permanent affliction.”

***

N1ck and H@nk didn’t even bother to call Ros@lee before they showed up at her and M0nroe’s house. N1ck knocked on the door after turning an unsettled eye at H@nk. But M0nroe didn’t really lie all that much, right? Especially not to Ros@lee.

“Hey, guys,” Ros@lee said. Her pregnancy was just beginning to show through her clothes. It was early, but she was having triplets so it was no wonder she’d already had to buy maternity jeans.

“Hey, is M0nroe here?” N1ck asked.

“Uh. Yeah? You know, he’s not in a great mood, honestly. He’s...well it sounds a little silly but...he’s had this stubborn case of the hiccups for over three hours, now!” she said as she brushed her hair back from her face. “Poor guy…”

“Three hours?” H@nk said. He actually looked relieved.

“Yeah, that’s good,” N1ck confirmed.

Ad@lind had told them it took 12 hours for the spell to cause a chronic condition. Figures that it would take M0nroe a lot longer than two detectives to tell a lie to trigger it. Though N1ck was curious what it must have been. It wasn’t triggered by white lies or innocuous lies. It was only triggered by larger falsities, lies contradicting a person’s values and nature. In N1ck and H@nk’s line of work it didn’t take long to tell someone a life altering fib in order to get information, no matter the detective’s moral disagreement to it.

“Um, no, I still think three hours having hiccups is pretty bad,” Ros@lee insisted.

“What, no, yeah, of course it is,” H@nk confirmed.

“It’s a spell,” N1ck clarified.

“N1ck, M0nroe, and I found this amulet wedged in a cinder block at the construction site we were a couple of nights ago. Seemed innocent. N1ck stored it at his place to research later,” H@nk continued.

“Turns out, Ad@lind said it was a truth amulet. Anyone who touches it has to tell the truth or face the consequences,” N1ck said.

“Consequences…” Ros@lee said, eyes widening.

“Yeah,” H@nk picked up. “A nasty case of hiccups.”

“That don’t stop until either the person who told the lie tells the truth or the curse is lifted. H@nk and I were both triggered. But we were deep in a case and wouldn’t have been able to tell the truth to who we needed. Ad@lind had a way to nullify the effect as long as we were able to tell her when we told the lie that started it,” N1ck said. “If we’d hiccuped for more than 12 hours it would have been permanent.”

“Oh my god!” Ros@lee exclaimed. “That sounds terrible!”

“So, you remember M0nroe telling you any lies lately? Something big,” H@nk asked. “Unless he’s been talking to anyone else in the past 3 hours.”

“No,” Ros@lee said, frowning. “I...I don’t know. Lemme get him.”

Ros@lee went to the bottom of the stairs leading up to their room. M0nroe had thought taking a nap might calm the hiccups down, at least. It hadn’t worked in the least.

“M0nroe! N1ck and H@nk are here! It has something to do with your hiccups! It’s a spell!” Ros@lee yelled up.

She returned to the two detectives with her hands to her lower back in support of her belly’s weight and her spreading hips.

“Ad@lind’s on the way with supplies, by the way,” N1ck assured her. Ros@lee gave a worried nod.

“You guys sit down. I’ll make some coffee,” Ros@lee said distractedly.

N1ck and H@nk sat down in the living room. N1ck was on the couch and H@nk took the chair to the side of it. M0nroe’s footsteps landed hard and fast as he came down to the living room, a sound the boys had been made all too familiar with peppering his arrival.

“H—hey guys,” M0nroe said. He looked disheveled in sweat pants and a white shirt as he suppressed a hiccup deep within his throat and chest. He winced as he rubbed his chest. “Wh-HUCK!-what’s this abo-mk!-out a spell? HUP’M! Ugh…”

The Blutb@d rubbed his sternum again and sighed a breath before another hiccup attacked him. He sat down next to N1ck and the Gr1mm patted him on the back sympathetically.

“The amulet we found,” H@nk explained. He silently nodded to Ros@lee in tH@nks at the coffee.

“H@nk and I were both on a case, today. TH@nks,” N1ck said to Ros@lee as she handed him a mug as well.

N1ck couldn’t help but notice that M0nroe waved a hand to the coffee offering. He imagined if M0nroe had been experiencing the same acid reflux both he and H@nk had during their attack, coffee was the last thing M0nroe wanted.

“You remember the amulet we found yesterday?” N1ck asked.

“Yeah th-huck!-the on—one that looked hmp!-looked like an E—evil Eye except HUCK’M!-except not?” M0nroe asked.

“Water?” Ros@lee asked. And was it his imagination but did his wife’s demeanor seem a little chilly?

“Uh HU’UP! Yeah, my thr-uck!-throat’s killing me!” M0nroe suppressed another hiccup and swallowed with a wince.

“I bet it is,” Ros@lee said.

Oh, N1ck thought, Ros@lee had probably just figured out whatever lie it was M0nroe had told. H@nk had picked up on it too and widened his eyes in realization, looking down.

“Ad@lind said it was called the Eye of Truth,” N1ck explained. “Anyone who touches it is made to tell the truth or face the consequences.”

“Probably HU’UCK!-ugh. Probably why it hmp’mk!-was in a con—concrete block, huh? HUP! So, what consequ-HIGGUP!-ences?” M0nroe asked as Ros@lee came back with the glass.

“Hiccups!” Ros@lee said primly and put the glass of water in front of her husband down with more force than necessary on the coffee table. In a lower voice she said, close to his face, “And if they have them for more than twelve hours without telling the truth they have them forever…”

M0nroe’s eyes widened both at the information shared and at Ros@lee’s sudden demeanor change.

Ros@lee turned on her heel to head back to the kitchen.

“I’m going to make tea!” she announced sharply.

“Dude…” H@nk said in a low voice. “What did you do?”

M0nroe looked lost for a little bit. His hand pushed flat against his chest as he searched his mind for the moment he had lied to her. His stomach jolted out sharply and his entire body jumped with the power of the hiccups he’d endured for three hours. He let the squelchy catches of breath fill the room over the ticking of his clocks for a while as he tried to recall when they started. A hard one knocked his head back with a HNK’GUULK as recognition suddenly passed his features.

“Crap,” he said. “We were HUCK’LP!-were talking about hmk!-Ros@lee’s mo—mother.”

“Damn,” H@nk said in understanding. “Mother-in-laws. I’ve definitely had to deal with my share fair.”

“I said,” Ros@lee said, reappearing as she waited for the kettle to sound, “my mom would make a good grandmother for our kids. And M0nroe agreed. And then he caught the most aggressive bout of hiccups...hm...interesting…”

Ros@lee crossed her arms over her chest with a frown.

“I do-HUCK!-don’t thi—ink she wo-HU’UP!-wo-HUP!-uld ma-HMK!-make a b-HU’UP!HUP!-bad gr-MK!-grandmother!” M0nroe tried to argue.

N1ck patted his friend’s leg and shook his head.

“The hiccups get worse when you try to double-down,” H@nk explained.

M0nroe just winced in both mild pain and frustration.

“So you do think my mom would make a bad grandmother?” Ros@lee said, voice growing louder.

“No! HUP!HNK!HUCK’UP!” He grunted and rubbed his belly at the muscle ache. “Okay, yes. Hulp! But it’s HULP!-uh, not that sim—simple, okay? Can we HUP!-Can we talk ab—about this HUP’K!-this in private, please? HILP!”

For a moment everyone was quiet. N1ck and H@nk exchanged looks of discomfort as Ros@lee held her jaw hard in thought. The only sounds were M0nroe’s hiccups being muffled by his fist pressed against his mouth. His body jerked up violently as he looked at his wife in desperation.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s go to our room,” Ros@lee said softly. Her jaw relaxed a little.

“I’ll-uh-text Ad@lind what we found out,” N1ck said. “She’ll be on her way shortly...I hope.”

Ros@lee nodded stiffly and followed her husband to their room on the second floor.

***

When M0nroe arrived he sat heavily on the corner of the bed. Ros@lee paced a little, running her hand through her hair as she watched her husband battle the spasms that attacked his body. Her anger softened even more at the way M0nroe cradled an arm along his stomach and rubbed his forehead tiredly.

Fuchsb@u were quick to anger, but they were also quick to change their minds. While not all Fuchsb@u were the same, obviously, this genetic trait seemed pretty prevalent in Ros@lee.

She finally sat next to him as he struggled to figure out how to word whatever he was trying to say, hiccups barging in as he stuttered. He was getting frustrated and Ros@lee could feel that. She laid a comforting hand to his back and rubbed his shoulders.

“Take your time,” she whispered.

M0nroe sighed and closed his eyes. He rode out a few more hiccups, catching gulpily in his throat, before speaking.

“Glori@ is—isn’t a bad person. HUP!” he started, calling Ros@lee’s mom by her first name. “But...mmk! Do you know h—how hard it is for HUP’K!-for someone like m-HEEP!-me to go We—We1der?”

Ros@lee thought for a moment. M0nroe hadn’t told her a lot about the process of becoming We1der, a program originated to help predatory We5en with their aggressive tendencies. Basically, it was a group facilitating a completely different relationship with inherent violent instincts which defined what being a Blutb@d, or any other number of predatory We5en, meant.

Instead of sacrificing himself to his natural inclination to kill living things and fight those he saw as weaker than him, M0nroe had taught himself to redefine who he was at the core of his being. He’d stripped out as much of the ‘addiction’, for lack of a better word, to cave to his base cravings as he could. It was why he was vegetarian. It was why he focused so hard on music and special interests and exercising and clocks and...Ros@lee. It kept him on the good path. It kept him from hurting anyone. It kept him sane.

He didn’t do this alone. He did this through We1der teaching facilitated by a group leader and within a group of people, We5en, who experienced the same urges as himself and the same desire to gain control. It hadn’t been easy. It hadn’t been pretty. But it was important to him that he honor his growth as much as possible. There-in came the complication who was Glori@, Ros@lee’s mom.

“I-I mean, no,” Ros@lee finally answered. “But I don’t understand what that has to do with—”

“Pity,” M0nroe said. His diaphragm defied him again and he grunted with the deep hiccup that caused his muscles to convulse and his breath to hitch. “Glori@ looks a—at me with hup!-pity. It’s hu’up!, it’s always been th-hnk!-that way. I recogn-ip!-ise it. You’re sis—sister too, but hmp!-but that’s just De—DeEtt@, I th-hmp!-ink.”

Ros@lee nodded at that, at least. DeEtt@ was the master of a look of derision. But her mom? Ros@lee silently considered what M0nroe had said.

Pity seemed like a pretty innocuous expression until you considered where it came from. There was an inherent arrogance in pity. People pitied because they thought someone else was in a lower place than themselves. It was different if the target of the pity was someone in a genuinely bad situation. But if they were just living their lives in the best possible way and someone pitied them for it, that felt like a direct attack on the way they were choosing to live. M0nroe was thriving; Glori@ had no reason to pity him.

But, the more Ros@lee thought about it the more she realized she could remember the exact look M0nroe was talking about. It wasn’t subtle, either. During her own struggles with drug addiction, that same look of pity, disappointment, and arrogant judgment appeared in her mom’s face more than once.

“I just hup!” M0nroe said, filling the silence as Ros@lee processed what he’d told her. “I just d-hmk!-don’t want our kids hulp!-kids to b—be judged if himp’k!-they decide to mk!-to take the same p—path as me. If they ne-ip!-eed a little help. It’s their deci—ision, obviously. But the thought of mk!-of their gran—grandmother judging them? Doesn’t hup!-doesn’t sit right with me. I—I’m sorry hmp!”

“No, you’re right,” Ros@lee said. “I...if it helps I don’t think she even knows she does it. But I know that look. Every time I came back from a bender she had that look. It made me feel like I would never be good enough. I had no idea she was using that look with you.

“She,” she sighed, “She’s asked me before about you being We1der.”

M0nroe looked surprised. He didn’t know that.

“Yeah. She seemed confused. I explained it but...my mom is really big on connecting to the We5en part of her. I think maybe...she thought you were denying part of yourself. And I thought, you know, I thought I explained it enough to dissuade her but…maybe not,” Ros@lee admitted. “She relented, finally, saying that at least I won’t have to worry about cleaning up as much blood. Guess she really didn’t think about us working with a Gr1mm.”

M0nroe laughed, body softly jumping with his fading hiccups.

“Or that I’m hup! I’m the one who d—does the laundry?” he teased.

Ros@lee laughed at that.

“Which I tH@nk you immensely for,” she said.

He smiled.

“I...wish you had felt like you could have told me this. I understand why you thought you couldn’t. And I probably should’ve told you about her and my conversation, too. I just didn’t want you to feel...well...like you already feel,” Ros@lee said with a shake of her head and a sad smile.

M0nroe huffed in amusement.

“I guess this means we aren’t the perfect couple everyone thinks we are?” he lamented.

“Bite your tongue, Blutb@d,” Ros@lee teased. “Of course we are. Otherwise you would’ve had the hiccups for all of eternity instead of feeling safe enough...eventually...to tell me the truth. Which I appreciate.”

“True…” M0nroe said with a nod. “Speaking of which.” He gave a big breath. “They are finally gone!”

“TH@nk goodness!” Ros@lee said.

“Yeah, they were really starting to hurt,” M0nroe grumbled.

“Well, yeah. But also...I wouldn’t have gotten a wink of sleep!” Ros@lee joked.

They both shared some laughter.

“Okay, I think I heard Ad@lind come in,” Ros@lee said. “Unless you want to be stuck having to tell the truth for fear of hiccuping chronically for the rest of your life I guess it would be a good idea to nullify this thing, huh?”

M0nroe nodded enthusiastically.

“I would definitely appreciate that. Although, I’ve also learned my lesson. It’s not like...I’m not going to start lying or anything…” he said nervously.

“Calm down, dear. I’m a Fuchsb@u. We live on lies,” Ros@lee said with a grin.

M0nroe looked at her suspiciously.

Ros@lee offered no comment, just an inquisitive look back. The expression devolved into laughter, though.

M0nroe laughed nervously, still not convinced it had all been a joke. Ros@lee just shook her head in amusement at the response.

“I’ll talk to my mom tomorrow. She needs to know how you feel and how her judgment affects people,” Ros@lee said.

“You don’t need to do that,” M0nroe protested, rising as she did from the bed.

“Yeah, I do. I want our kids to feel safe no matter what. I need her to know how important it is for me to fully accept our children. If our kids turn out to be Blutb@d, even just one, I need them to know they’ll be supported no matter what. It’s important,” Ros@lee said.

“I love you,” M0nroe said.

“Love you, too.”

They kissed.

“See?” M0nroe said pointing to himself. “I really do love you! No hiccups!”

“Better not be…” she said with a grin.

M0nroe kissed her again with a dopey grin before they went downstairs to nullify any future impacts of the spell on M0nroe’s poor, abused diaphragm.

[beelmons]

i really hope garcia eventually ends up with Luke because it would have such a positive impact on media.

The writers had the opportunity to do something amazing with Morgan and decided against it. Having someone as Morgan, the to-the-tee beauty standard of a man, fall in love with Penelope, the very antithesis of what such man should have as a partner, would have been a great break on the big girl cliché. Ultimately, their platonic relationship had other impacts on how love presents in media, and while that's great, I presume the other topic would have been a lot more disruptive.

Both potential love interests, besides Kevin, that Penelope had ended up rejecting her one way or another, with the police guy even straight up shooting her, and Derek not ever deciding to explore the romantic aspect of their relationship.

Who do they pair her up with? The equally off-the-standard nerd guy that perfectly mirrors her personality. Nothing against Kevin, I love the guy, I think he was a great partner to Penelope, but seriously? The whole concept of "I'm only lovable by people who are similar to me" isn't only outdated, but cages characters, specially female ones, in boxes that inherently limit their growth.

Women in media with traditional "male" interests are often portrayed as unlovable, or their relationships written as if loving them was some sort of sacrifice or conquest, and more often than not it's the disapperance of those qualities and the transition into more "feminine" ones for the sake of "love" that is considered character development for them.

We have Penelope, who is a magnificent balance between the two. Kristen does a great job into not caging penelope in the nerdy girl cliché. She can be feminine and hack the shit out of federal databases, and she can be fashionable in her own special way, and she can handle the horrors by being a little silly everyday. And what do the writers do? Her realtionship is the one they cage into a 'standard', even when there's nothing standard about her.

Then there's Luke, who, from day one, has a shiton amount of chemistry with her, and whom subtly demonstrates attraction towards her, to the point of asking her out in the final ep. Luke, a military man, could be a model, could have 'anyone he wanted', a calm collected guy. Wouldn't they make the perfect contrast?

Having an off-the-standard and the-exact-standard couple would be such a win for those who don't fit, or feel they don't fit, the standard, specially considering that Penelope exists in a bigger body, and all without the need of her 'changing' for him.

The writers should have done this ages ago, and the impact won't be as widely spread if they do it in future evolution seasons, but it would still be so, so good for those young women out there wondering if they can get something like that with the bodies that they have.

Garvez would be a great statement to the way we view heterosexual relationships in media.

[steampunkforever]

Constantine Stuart took his calls in bed that morning. Taking ones calls in bed is not so out of the ordinary as to cause alarm, unless you're Constantine Stuart. To his housekeeper's greater concern was the fact that he had the newspaper brought to his room while taking his calls. The groundskeepers checked the weather broadcast, expecting the moon to have turned to blood with a 60% chance of fire and brimstone. Constantine Stuart would be more likely to throw the balcony window open and inform the world that he'd rediscovered his inner child than order the paper brought to his room.

Stuart was the sort of man who went about his day the same way a hurricane makes landfall, entering the boardrooms he frequented like a battleship at full steam, wearing a purple suit that his housekeeper described to her friends as a "purple suit" with all the juicy connotations those syllabic stresses hold. Stuart was a force of nature more than he was a man, yet here he was answering the phone in his underwear, wearing nothing else but a silk robe and a faded Tampa Beach Yacht Club graphic tee.

The housekeeper would later testify to what snatches of conversation she caught while pretending not to eavesdrop on Stuart's morning phone calls. She indicated that while the content of the calls seemed to involve large sums of money, threats of bodily harm, and the imminent fall of Constantine Stuart's business empire, this was par for the course, citing an incident two months earlier that ended with the unfortunate demise of both the breakfast nook telephone and a previously beautiful Tiffany lamp.

In fact, Stuart's tone was considerably lighter than usual, especially considering the earlier threats of burial beneath the front flowerbeds that Stuart had punctuated by slamming down the receiver and shot-putting the corded telephone into an unsuspecting Art Nouveau glass lampshade. The morning's calls had been grim and even threatening on the other side, but totally incapable of breaking Stuart's almost jubilant mood. The groundskeepers huddled in the back shed and checked the weather radio for alerts from FEMA.

Slamming down the phone (with equal force as but considerably more jubilantly than the norm), Stuart informed the housekeeper that the stock market was going to self immolate like a Ford Pinto on the steps of the NYSE, his no-good brother was using the mafia to try and weasel his way into more of the family inheritance, and that she should open all the windows because he was expecting visitors. The housekeeper hurried downstairs to consider checking the batteries in the Carbon Monoxide detectors.

Constantine Stuart, on the other hand, threw on his comfiest pair of slippers, rushed to the balcony windows, threw them open violently, and promptly had his head split open by a sniper's bullet.

Investigators were never fully able to piece together enough clues to properly indict humpty dumpty back together again, but four distinct things happened that day:

A typo in a Dept. of Agriculture findings report focused on corn subsidies briefly sent the entire American economy into a panic-fueled death spiral lasting the 20 minutes it took for a statement to be released correcting the mistake and returning the wheels of progress to the status quo.

Darius Stuart, Constantine's good for nothing brother, found himself in possession of the entirety of the family fortune as well as the subject of a very complicated murder case centering on the hitman he'd hired to secure said fortune. The case would hinge on the hitman's honest-but-improbable testimony that he'd only intended on slashing some tires and leaving dead animals on the doorstep, a story the jury found just as believable as you do reading this.

Constantine Stuart found his inner child.

Despite my best attempts to diligently track down that one DMV employee who was just SO rude to me, I got the wrong house.

[numetaljackdog]

y'know how wearing only socks makes you feel more naked than being completely naked? i'm finding a similar principle to apply to wearing a dog collar with jeans and a button-down versus wearing the same with rave pants and a cropped tee. the latter communicates that i'm an edgelord, a real shadow-the-hedgehog-kinnie type. look at me in all my red and black with the chains and the d-rings and the carabiners. i'm a lean mean doggy machine. while the former look... it draws the eye moreso to the one outfit piece that sticks out. it communicates that i'm a functional, "normal" member of society who just happens to be wearing a symbol of being a filthy low-to-the-ground animal. more of a blatant puppyslut sort of vibe happening. now of course the statements communicated by both outfits are true of me in equal measure, but ironically i would rather utilize the stealth innate in my more eyecatching outfit to broadcast the doggy machine vibe a little louder than the other option.

[reviewspecialist]

Distinctive Styles: Men's & Women's Fashion by Top Brands

Gant:

Men: Gant specializes in classic American sportswear with a European touch for men. Their collections feature clean lines, quality materials, and attention to detail, offering versatile options suitable for various occasions. From crisp button-down shirts to tailored blazers and casual yet refined sweaters, Gant's menswear exudes sophistication and timeless elegance.

Women: Gant offers a similar aesthetic for women, blending classic elegance with contemporary style. Their womenswear collections feature feminine silhouettes, luxurious fabrics, and refined detailing. Whether it's a tailored blazer for the office, a cozy sweater for weekends, or a chic dress for special events, Gant's womenswear embodies sophistication and understated luxury.

True Religion:

Men: True Religion is renowned for its premium denim craftsmanship, offering high-quality jeans with innovative designs and impeccable fit for men. Their denim collections often feature unique washes, intricate stitching, and edgy embellishments, catering to individuals who appreciate distinctive style. True Religion also offers a range of casual apparel, including graphic tees, hoodies, and outerwear, all reflecting the brand's signature urban aesthetic.

Women: True Religion's womenswear extends beyond denim to encompass a diverse array of contemporary fashion. From denim skirts and jackets to trendy tops and dresses, True Religion's women's collection embraces casual luxury with a distinct edge. The brand's commitment to quality materials and attention to detail ensures that every piece exudes confidence and style for the modern woman.

Iconic:

Men: Iconic specializes in streetwear-inspired apparel for men, reflecting the latest trends in urban fashion. Their collections often feature bold graphics, vibrant colors, and relaxed silhouettes, perfect for the modern urbanite. From statement-making hoodies and joggers to stylish sneakers and accessories, Iconic offers a diverse range of options for men looking to make a fashion statement.

Women: Iconic's women's collection mirrors the brand's urban aesthetic with a feminine twist. From trendy crop tops and bodycon dresses to oversized hoodies and athleisure-inspired sets, Iconic's women's line combines comfort with style. The brand's emphasis on versatility and individuality ensures that every piece allows women to express their unique sense of fashion confidently.

Just Cavalli:

Men: Just Cavalli offers contemporary fashion with a rock 'n' roll edge for men. Their collections feature vibrant prints, daring patterns, and unconventional cuts, catering to individuals who aren't afraid to stand out. From statement-making shirts and jackets to eye-catching accessories, Just Cavalli's menswear exudes confidence and attitude for the modern man.

Women: Just Cavalli's women's collection is equally bold and glamorous, embodying femininity with a rebellious spirit. From figure-flattering dresses and statement tops to luxurious outerwear and accessories, Just Cavalli's women's line embraces drama and confidence. The brand's signature animal prints, metallic accents, and intricate detailing add a touch of glamour to every piece, perfect for women seeking to make a statement.

DKNY:

Men: DKNY specializes in contemporary essentials for men, blending style and functionality seamlessly. Their collections feature clean lines, minimalist silhouettes, and understated details, perfect for the urban professional. From tailored suits and dress shirts to casual basics and outerwear, DKNY offers a comprehensive range of options for every aspect of a man's wardrobe.

Women: DKNY's women's collection exudes sophistication and effortless chic. From timeless dresses and tailored separates to casual loungewear and activewear, DKNY's women's line caters to the modern woman on the go. The brand's emphasis on versatility and comfort ensures that every piece can easily transition from day to night, allowing women to look and feel their best no matter the occasion.

Lindbergh:

Men: Lindbergh specializes in modern essentials with a minimalist twist for men. Their collections feature clean lines, neutral colors, and understated details, reflecting the brand's Nordic heritage. From tailored blazers and chinos to casual knitwear and outerwear, Lindbergh offers a curated selection of wardrobe staples for the modern man.

Women: Lindbergh's women's collection embodies effortless elegance and sophistication with a feminine touch. From chic blouses and tailored trousers to cozy knitwear and outerwear, Lindbergh's women's line exudes timeless style. The brand's focus on quality materials and impeccable craftsmanship ensures that every piece is both stylish and versatile, perfect for the modern woman's wardrobe.

[cherrygirlystuff]

Dirty Chic: Embrace the Messy, Unpolished Style of the Indie Era

Hey babe! 🌸 If you’re all about that effortlessly cool, messy-but-in-the-best-way look, then you’re going to love what I’ve got for you today. Welcome to Dirty Chic, the ultimate blog dedicated to the unpolished, DIY fashion that defined the indie scene. We’re talking thrift store gems, DIY tutorials, and outfit inspo that’s equal parts chaotic and chic. So grab your scissors, dust off your favorite thrifted band tee, and let’s get into it! 🎧✨

The Dirty Chic Aesthetic: Embrace the Chaos, Rock the Unpolished Look 🌟

Let’s be real – fashion in the indie era wasn’t about perfection. It was about breaking the rules, mixing and matching, and creating looks that were as unique as you are. The dirty chic aesthetic is all about embracing that raw, unpolished vibe. Think ripped jeans, oversized band tees, scuffed-up boots, and a little bit of grunge magic. It’s messy, it’s bold, and it’s totally you.

This look isn’t about following trends; it’s about making your own. So if you’re ready to dive into the world of DIY fashion, thrift store treasures, and outfit inspiration that’s perfectly imperfect, you’re in the right place.

1. DIY Fashion Tutorials: Create Your Own Indie Masterpieces 🎨

One of the best things about dirty chic style is that it’s all about DIY. Why buy something new when you can create something totally unique with your own hands? Here are a few DIY fashion tutorials that’ll have you looking like an indie icon in no time:

Ripped and Distressed Jeans: There’s nothing more indie than a pair of perfectly distressed jeans. Grab an old pair from your closet (or a thrift store find) and get ready to unleash your inner artist. Use a razor blade or scissors to carefully create rips and holes in the knees, thighs, or wherever you want to add some edge. Then, take a piece of sandpaper and rough up the fabric around the edges for that lived-in look. The more you wear them, the better they’ll look – trust me.

Customized Band Tees: Take your favorite band tee and give it a little indie makeover. Whether it’s cutting off the sleeves for a rocker vibe, cropping it for a more fitted look, or adding some bleach splatters for that grunge effect, the options are endless. You can even try screen printing your own design or adding some safety pins for a little punk flair. The goal is to make it your own and wear it with pride.

Patchwork Jackets: If you’ve got an old denim or leather jacket lying around, why not turn it into a statement piece? Gather some patches, fabric scraps, and even old bandanas, and start sewing or gluing them onto your jacket. You can go for a cohesive look or just throw on whatever catches your eye – the more eclectic, the better. This is your chance to wear your personality on your sleeve (literally).

DIY Accessories: Don’t forget about the little details! Create your own chokers, bracelets, or earrings using materials you already have at home. Try braiding some old shoelaces into a necklace, or stringing together some beads for a boho vibe. You can even repurpose old jewelry into something totally new. Indie fashion is all about creativity, so don’t be afraid to experiment.

2. Thrift Store Finds: The Treasure Hunt of Indie Fashion 🕵️‍♀️

If there’s one thing indie fashion lovers know, it’s that thrift stores are pure goldmines. There’s something magical about sifting through racks of second-hand clothes and finding that perfect piece that no one else has. Here’s how to make the most of your thrift store adventures:

Look for Statement Pieces: When you’re thrifting, keep an eye out for items that stand out. Whether it’s a vintage band tee, a funky printed dress, or a pair of high-waisted jeans that fit like a dream, the key is to find pieces that you can build an outfit around. Don’t be afraid to think outside the box – sometimes the most unexpected items turn into your favorite wardrobe staples.

Mix and Match Eras: One of the best things about thrift shopping is that you can find pieces from all different eras. Don’t be afraid to mix and match – pair a ’70s boho blouse with ’90s grunge jeans, or throw on a ’60s mod jacket over a modern dress. The beauty of dirty chic style is that it’s all about creating something new from the old.

Accessories Are Everything: Thrift stores are full of hidden gems when it comes to accessories. Look for unique belts, vintage bags, and quirky jewelry that you can add to your outfits. A cool pair of sunglasses or a chunky belt can take your look from basic to badass in no time.

Don’t Forget the DIY Potential: Even if you find something that’s not quite perfect, remember that you can always DIY it into something amazing. Whether it’s hemming a skirt, adding some patches to a jacket, or transforming a dress into a top, the possibilities are endless. Thrift shopping is all about seeing the potential in what you find.

3. Outfit Inspirations: Rock the Dirty Chic Look Like an Indie Icon 👗

Need some inspo on how to pull it all together? Here are a few outfit ideas that capture the essence of dirty chic style:

Grunge Goddess: Start with a pair of ripped jeans and an oversized band tee (bonus points if you DIY’d it). Throw on a flannel shirt over the top, and finish the look with some scuffed-up combat boots. Accessorize with a choker, a beanie, and a messy bun, and you’re ready to take on the world.

Boho Rebel: Pair a flowy, floral dress with a leather jacket and some chunky boots. Add a wide-brimmed hat and some layered necklaces for that boho-meets-grunge vibe. The key is to keep the look a little rough around the edges – think tousled hair and minimal makeup.

Vintage Vibes: Go for a retro look with high-waisted jeans, a tucked-in graphic tee, and a vintage blazer. Finish the look with some classic Converse or Docs, and throw on a pair of round sunglasses for that perfect indie touch. This look is all about mixing old and new in a way that feels totally fresh.

Punk Princess: Start with a plaid skirt or skinny jeans, and pair it with a cropped tee and a denim jacket covered in patches. Add some fishnet tights, a studded belt, and chunky boots to complete the look. Top it off with a bold lip color and some smudgy eyeliner for that ultimate punk rock edge.

Final Thoughts, Gorgeous: Let’s Get Messy and Chic with Indie Style 🌟

There you have it – all the tips, tricks, and inspo you need to rock the dirty chic look like the indie icon you are. Whether you’re DIY-ing your own fashion masterpieces, hunting for treasures at your local thrift store, or just throwing together a perfectly imperfect outfit, remember that the key to dirty chic style is confidence. It’s about embracing the chaos, making your own rules, and never being afraid to stand out.

So go ahead, babe – get messy, get creative, and most importantly, have fun with your style. After all, fashion is supposed to be a little wild, a little unpredictable, and totally you.

What’s your favorite thrift store find or DIY fashion project? Let’s chat in the comments and swap tips, tricks, and outfit inspo! 💕

[rainysflowers]

OC Fic - Mountain Deathcamas

Day 5 - "Beauty equals goodness."

Summary: Beauty equals goodness. This shrine maiden proves that in spades. Until she doesn't.

Beauty equals goodness, this much was true. It’s all that anyone can think as they stand there, watching tears roll down their red shrine-maiden’s cheeks, shivering in terror as she begs the princess and her bodyguard and their wandering friend and her companion not to kill her.

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 832

Note: Hi I'm hijacking the Slayers Artober 2023 tag for point two seconds to show off my sweet bby Slayers Puruse OCs oh yeah oh yeah. Hope that that's okay, sorry if its not I can untag it, I just saw the prompt and my brain went, "That is SOOOO Anticlea." and i got carried away :P Might use the whole list, I have ideas and writing more about my Pursue group and my Overthrown party would be sooo fun ^^

Ao3 Link/Full Story under the cut :) It would help me out if u checked out the Ao3 link but dw either way ^^

Beauty equals goodness.

It was a statement that each and every member that traveled in Alidor’s party knew perfectly well, because they had the literal embodiment of the saying right there with them.

Anticlea had always been beautiful, no matter where in life she was. 

She had been beautiful from the moment she was born up until the moment that she’d joined the group on their quest to find the prince of the green kingdom a sweetheart to be his co-ruler. Whilst she looked up at the black-haired man with squinted crimson eyes just barely holding back tears and shining in the light of the setting sun, hands clasped together as if she was in one of the prayers that she must have known well, lips moving rapidly as she spilled out all sorts of desires to come along, she stayed beautiful.

She stayed beautiful through all of it, all of the hardships and pitfalls and breakups and get-togethers that the posse had eventually come to surpass. How she did it, no one could tell.

But what they did know, anyone and everyone out there in the world knew, was that the shrine maiden had that special something that made one simply have to stop and stare.

Perhaps it was her long, black hair that poured over her shoulders and down her back in tight coils, cherry colored eyes filled with a zest for life that matched her loose and airy outfit to a tee. Or maybe it was her small eyebrows and her ever-so-slightly rounded face that did the trick, fixing her with an adorably worried expression whenever her lips weren’t folded softly into excitement. The way she shot innocent glances over her shoulder and spoke loudly like no one had ever told her that she had to quiet down. How she seemed amazed by every little thing in the world around her, loving it all with no end.

It all had a way of making her stand out from the rest, even in a party mostly composed of non-men.

Against the knight Psyche, with her two-toned eyes, her messy hair, and brash attitude, Anticlea seemed put together, albeit naive.

Against the priest Uriel, with their fair skin, empty lavender eyes, and floaty smile, Anticlea seemed inviting and vivacious.

And so, beauty really did equal goodness.

Even when it was late at night and the pair of white magic users stayed up far longer than anyone else, sitting on a log in front of the fire, discussing holy topics and new dance routines that they could duet with one another. Behind them, their long shadows cast outwards into the forest, the light from the fire licking at their skin. Uriel mentioned something or other about a magical performance that they’d managed to bear witness to once, and it sent Anticlea into a giggling fit, her long eyelashes fluttering over her cheek. In the back of their mind, the priest cannot help but feel a twinge of guilt, though it’s through no fault of their own. Things happen, they supposed, even to humans that might not traditionally deserve it.

Even when the group’s quest had led them to the heart of the sprawling desert and in front of the door to a dragon woman’s house. She froze the moment that she opened the door, a palpable sense of complete and utter horror rushing through her deep blue eyes as they widened, a long shiver rolling slowly up her spine and down her arms. The kind of thing that she hadn’t felt in years. It hadn’t fully occurred to her what that truly meant, not until the festival that night, where she sat sipping on tea at a table alone, watching the pair of white magic users dancing on stage, rounding one another with wide smiles and blushing from exhaustion. That feeling was back, far worse than before, and finally something in the antique jar collector’s mind clicked into place.

Even when the sun sat high in the sky and the party was stuck in an ambush, staring forwards helplessly at the heroes of years ago surrounding Anticlea, weapons and magical appendages pointing directly at her. She’s biting her lip, face contorted into a silent sob, hands held up in the air as a weak sign of surrender.

Beauty equals goodness, this much was true.

It’s all that anyone can think as they stand there, watching tears roll down their red shrine-maiden’s cheeks, shivering in terror as she begs the princess and her bodyguard and their wandering friend and her companion not to kill her.

Because beauty equals goodness, and she was beautiful, inside and out, and there was no way in Hell or on Earth that she was not good.

Being good was all she had.

It was her life, it always had been.

She couldn’t hold one of the seven pieces of the demon lord inside of her because she was patient and kind and innocent and beautiful and good.

Right?

[lifewithmai]

Dress the Revolution: Hiraya Pilipina Empowers Women with Their Eye-Catching Statement Pieces

Angela Palma - November 16, 2023

Photo by Instagram/Hiraya Pilipina

"if the message speaks for you, it is made for you" - Cleo Loque (2021)

Women's empowerment has evolved through the years, and it has continued to expand, which has made the community and feminist group larger and larger. The growing awareness of women's empowerment signifies an important change in societal perspectives and promotes the growth of an advocacy community dedicated to gender equality. 

Wearing statement pieces that show power through print, such as Hiraya Pilipina's products, is one way we can show our support and advocacy for women. Hiraya Pilipina, as a women-owned business, understands the challenges that women face on a daily basis. As a result, they put in a lot of work to create products that encourage women to embrace their unique selves and feel empowered. In the long run, Hiraya Pilipina is a brand that inspires women who are struggling to feel confident. 

PHOTO BY INSTAGRAM/CLEOLOQUE

Cleo Loque, the founder of Hiraya Filipina, is a student who manages both her academics and her brand. When Cleo was just entering Grade 11 of her senior high school years at San Beda University-Rizal, she launched Hiraya Pilipina and issued its first catalog in July 2019. "To spearhead my own growing business makes me feel like a proud mother who sees her baby grow, blossom, and make an impact on the community," she said when asked about being a current young female CEO. 

Cleo Loque sees her company as a lifestyle, a "home to women-empowering products." "Hiraya Pilipina is all about community. It is our vision to build a community of Filipino women across the globe who can see our brand as a safe space for them to listen and be heard," Loque stated. The CEO makes it clear that anyone can wear their empowering t-shirts. Loque emphasized that Hiraya Pilipina's goal is to create a brand that not only offers empowering products but also fosters a sense of belonging and support among Filipino women worldwide. By building a community, the brand aims to provide a safe space where women can share their stories, find inspiration, and empower one another. Additionally, Loque emphasizes that the empowering tees are inclusive and available for anyone who resonates with their message, regardless of gender identity. Their vision is to create a global community of Filipino women who see the brand as a safe haven.

Some of Hiraya Pilipina's famous best-selling prints are "Abante Babae" and "How are you". Not only has become a symbol of empowerment and solidarity among women, encouraging them to move forward and break down barriers but also promotes their health and well-being. Their eye-catching designs and low price make it a popular choice for those looking to make a fashion statement.

As for Hiraya Pilipina's Future products, Cleo Loque stated that "Although we started with statement shirts, masks, and bags, we are no longer leaning toward fashion. Our direction now is to improve women’s intimate care in the Philippines with our products such as nipple pasties, boob tapes, and hair removers. Soon, we’ll venture into period care and wellness. That’s the direction we’re going." 

Hiraya Pilipina stands as a symbol of power in a world where fashion meets empowerment, joining stories of strength and unity into every print and design. As Cleo Loque puts it, "If the message speaks for you, it is made for you." Hiraya Pilipina's inspiring pieces transcend simple fashion; they embody a movement, inviting everyone to be part of a global community advocating women. As the brand confidently moves forward, expanding its range of products, it continues to redefine what it means to dress for a cause—a cause that speaks to women.

Sources:

-https://www.candymag.com/features/hiraya-pilipina-a1716-20210331-lfrm

-https://thebeat.asia/manila/venture/startups/gen-z-ceo-cleo-loque-on-championing-women-through-hiraya-pilipina