#I spent so much time on the details on this

[smuttysabina]

The Most Motherly Maknaes

(Male Reader x Purple Kiss Swan and Dreamcatcher Gahyun, 6K Words) Tags: Mommy Fetish; Threesome, Tittyfucking; Double Tittyfucking, Fat sloppy creampies; Praise Fetish; Virgin Sex; Yet more Mommy Fetish; Oral and Vaginal Sex; Lots of Kissing and pampering; Oh hey, Jihyo is in this one as well, what a surprise; You don't get to fuck her though, maybe next time; Implications of Incest; Pregnancy; Also apron fetish I guess?

You had always had an absent mother, so it was somewhat of a pleasant surprise when you acquired two new ones, who were far more attentive. Their breasts squishing against either side of your chest, while the warmth of their breath tickles your neck, you find yourself trapped in their less than wholesome embrace. One of them is demanding of your attention, her luscious lips split by a wicked smile as she rewards your boldness with further "encouragement", pushing you to indulge yourself more. While the other is kindly and supportive, her fuller curves drowning you in affection whenever you crave solace, but always pressing you to try again. Gahyun and Swan may have been abysmal at getting you to focus fully upon your calculus homework, but they were excellent at satiating your desire for motherly attention; if not your passion for something more... Their hands gently close around the embarrassingly obviously bulge in your pants as they both whisper in your ears,

"Good boy..."

With your father busy spending his evenings plowing his secretary, and your mother constantly overseas on business (as well as whoring around), it had fallen to your dear cousin Jihyo to check in on you in what scattered time she had. Of course, as an active idol wrangling eight other active idols, she had only been able to visit on occasion, and when she had, more often than not she arrived dragging a whole train of girls. So you became well acquainted with the ladies of Twice, though soon enough girls from other groups would spice the mix, and looking back on it there was perhaps a noticeable preference for idols with matronly features... Beautiful Momo with her ditzy airs, Nayeon who always looked somewhat carnivorously at you, Jeongyeon who spent so much time teasing you, the elegant Karina, always accompanied by a warm Winter, kindly Nancy who doted upon you; and of course, many more who were lacking in such sizable assets. By the time you had finally grown into a man, these gorgeous women had pranced through your dreams on a regular basis, and Nayeon had started drooling uncontrollably whenever she was around you for more than five minutes. This attraction had not gone unnoticed, and so of course Jihyo had decided to act before she found the two of you in the closet; or really, any of the other idols. The last time Itzy had visited, Yeji had had to physically restrain Yuna, and the usually dorky leader herself had shown brief lapses where she would stare intensely at you, her eyes twitching spasmodically. To forestall the tragic loss of your virginity to a horde of slavering idols then, Jihyo, in her infinite yet somewhat warped wisdom, came to the obvious solution to the problem...

The afternoon had begun like any other, the dull mundanity of schoolwork, punctuated only by the brief breaks of entertainment when you would glance at your phone during a break. At least until the ping of a notification snatched your attention, and you read the message from your cousin Jihyo. She and a few (so probably a "few" dozen) girls would be swinging by to visit, but unfortunately she herself would be delayed by a few hours due to something coming up at work; but of course you would be a dear and entertain the girls already on their way? With a resigned sigh you halt your tiring journey through calculus, and hurriedly tidy up the place, not that it ever really got very messy, but still; the devil was in the details. After getting things touched up, you slouch back onto the couch, stuck in that annoying state of wary idleness as you wait for your slightly unwanted guests to arrive; hopefully Jihyo would be able to finish up whatever she was working on quickly, so you wouldn't get distracted for too long. You had barely started to settle in when the doorbell rang, and grumbling softly you scurry over to the door, throwing it open in welcome to reveal not the horde you had expected, but merely two idols. Gahyun and Swan blink bemusedly at your shocked face, before politely inviting themselves inside, squishing themselves against you in a warm hug that sends your heart racing a little.

The pair were, well, sizably endowed to say the least, a fact that remained prominent in your mind as you lead them to the couch, and as they slip in on either side of you. It was a struggle to not stare dumbly down at their exposed cleavage, but you manage to contain yourself to polite glances, and the girls do not comment if you perhaps spend a little too long looking. Swan was the more curvaceous of the two, her top straining to contain her hefty breasts, her body so soft you could drown in it. Gahyun meanwhile made up for her comparative lack of shapeliness with a vivacious and teasing attitude that soon had her teasing her companion relentlessly; and her chest was still sizable enough to distract anyone. The fact that both maknaes had you comparing their ample bodies, and not the intricacies of derivations, did not bode well for your productivity this night; not that the girls weren't trying to be supportive. Like any good guest, the idols did their best to repay your generosity as a host by helping you through your mundane tasks, so that you might fully entertain them when they are done. Therefore, they peered intently over your work, rummaging through their brains for long-forgotten knowledge before dispensing it in a haphazard manner; and with every movement they seemed to press closer against you. Soon you can barely move your arm without brushing against their breasts, as they each encourage you in their own ways; Gahyun pushing you, while Swan guides you.

You really would like to be able to finish your work, but your hindbrain was starting to swamp your forebrain with hormones, distorting its attempts to solve complex mathematics; those "3"s really looked a lot like Gahyun's lips... Something warm bulges against your leg, your body reacting naturally to the intimate proximity of such gorgeous ladies, even as you do your best to ignore its lascivious demands. But the busty maknaes are more receptive to your body's desires, they can smell the stench of lust emanating from you, and they seem more than willing to satiate it. The idol's hushed advice now steams against your neck and ears, making you shiver, their curvaceous forms invade your personal space beyond the point of politeness, and their fingers tip-toe oh so delicately along your thighs. Your pen slips from your grasp as you feel something soft press against your neck, and a stain of wetness drags itself up the other side. You shudder as the two idols kiss their way along your neck, but withdrawing before they could reach your own lips. The pair smile at you from either side, "Ready to become a man?" Gahyun purrs seductively, Before Swan chimes in, "Don't worry," she sighs, "We'll be gentle, a good boy like you deserves to have a nice first time, don't you think?"

Indeed, this was not exactly how you had planned on losing your virginity, you had imagined it would have been beneath Nayeon as she rode your first load out of you, or pinned down by one of the nymphos of Itzy, or even shuddering between the limber thighs of Wonyoung as she haughtily consents to opening her legs for the blood-relative of Jihyo; but not by such... motherly women. They politely take their turns kissing you, all the while praising you, scratching at an itch you had always born. Gahyun's lips are greedy for yours, her tongue eagerly slipping into your mouth to tussle with your own; then it is Swan's turn, her kisses more demure and reserved, more keen on showing you how to kiss properly than using your mouth for her own pleasure. Your face is already flushed by the time they are satisfied, your heart hammering in your chest, and they have barely even gotten started yet. With a knowing smile, Swan sits erect, reaching behind herself to unhook her bra and allowing her capacious breasts to droop freely down her chest. She leans back, allowing you to drink in the sight of her enormous assets, their dark nipples accentuated by her sizable areolas. Swan brings your head down into her cleavage, smushing your face between her boobs and urging you to indulge yourself; and soon you are suckling upon her nipple like a baby while you knead her tits. When you stop sucking it is only to unintentionally moan one word, which makes the idols share a pleased smile, and Swan agrees, "That's right dear, just let it go, be a good boy for mommy."

You shudder with unfathomable satisfaction as something in your brain clicks, your long-suffering desire for motherly approval was finally being satiated; and it when mixed with your youthful lust it scratched an itch you probably should have realized you had. Perhaps unsurprisingly, you were quite the mommy's boy. So you luxuriate in the warm comfort of Swan's breasts, while she rains praise down upon you; at least until Gahyun joins in on the fun, squishing her own massive boobs against your face. While your head is wrapped in such a soft embrace, your manhood conversely strains against your pants for release, and the moment your hips start to writhe the idols take notice. Gahyun leans down and kisses your forehead, "Aww, look how needy you are!" she purrs salaciously, "Don't worry, Mommy Gahyun will make it all better, okay?" Then with a devilish smile she wriggles down between your legs, carelessly shoving the low table back away from the couch as she crouches on the floor. Gahyum expresses shock after she wrenches your pants off, allowing your manhood to flop free of its confines, resting meatily upon your groin as she laughs with delight. You try and adjust it, but she slaps your hands away, "Just sit back dear, and let Mommy do all the work," she licks her luscious lips, "just look how hard you are..."

Snuggled between Swan's sizable cleavage, you open your legs so that Gahyun can have her way with you, which she does with evident relish. Her perky lips slip down your shaft, slathering your cock with her moist spit, staring up into your eyes as she takes your dick to the hilt down her throat. You groan loudly as your new Mommy gives you your first blowjob, and your balls throb as you struggle to contain yourself. But Gahyum has no intention of your first load sliding down her gullet, and after your meat has been suitably lubricated she pulls off of you; leaving behind only a red smear of lipstick around your base as evidence of her skills. Another smudge graces her cheek as she cleans off her lips with the back of her hand, and as she readies her breasts for what will come next, Swam murmurs praise down at you for holding on so well. Wearing a wicked grin, Gahyun pushes your cock between her breasts, squishing them around your shaft until only your tip peeks out. If her tits had felt heavenly pressed against your face, they felt transcendent when wrapped around your manhood, their softness moving up and down your length with surprising ease. Gahyun giggles at your facial expression, "You had better not cum yet dear, you can hold on for me, right?" Swan agrees, wrapping her arms around you to hold you tightly, "Mhmm don't finish yet, be a good boy and hold that load in for Mommy!"

Gahyun plays your meat like an instrument, pleasuring it with her smooth breasts until you are on the edge of climax, before pausing until your balls had fallen enough before continuing. Of course, after a few rounds of this you were begging for it, pleading with your Mommies for release, willingly submitting to their affections as you chased your orgasm. It also was not helping that it felt so good putting all your trust in them, these Mommies would not leave you, they would keep showering you with love and support so long as you remained a good boy, right? And it seems like you were, when Gahyun stops tittyfucking you so that she can stand and wriggle out of her jeans and panties, revealing her most precious spot for you to gawp at. She smirks at your reaction, before shooting a glance up at Swan's unseen expression, "What, your lips took his first kiss, its only right that mine take his first load," Swan evidently demurs, because she leans down to kiss your forehead, "Time to become a big boy," she informs you kindly, as Gahyun eagerly straddles your crotch. Her breasts brush against your face while her hand grasps your dick, lining it up for insertion before Swan chides her, "Geez let him watch!" Sighing, Gahyun indulgently leans back, allowing you to drink in the sight of her weighty breasts, as well as the glistening slit you will soon be filling. Her core tensing, she then raises herself up, bending your cock back until it kisses her wet entrance. Gahyun smiles teasingly, then she sits on it.

You moan unashamedly as your virginity is taken, your manhood pulsing as it is engulfed in Gahyun's warm, sloppy insides, every inch of it disappearing into her like magic until her prim lower lips reach the red mark left by her other lips. Her face as flushed as your own, Gahyun leans down to kiss you hungrily before breaking it off to growl, "Thanks for your virginity dear, how does your first woman feel?" You answer honestly, and her lips curl into a smug smile, "Good boy, now relax, try to hold on as long as you can..." Her pussy had felt sublime just soaking your cock in her juices, but when she started moving it was all you could do but clutch onto wobbling breasts and hold on for dear life. With your dick having been subjected to such extensive foreplay, you were never going to last very long, but things were hardly helped by the constant praise the two idols heaped upon you. "Such a good boy..." "Holding on for so long..." "Isn't she so tight?" "I can feel it twitching..." "Just let go..." "Good boy..." "Good boy..." "Do it, do it now..." "Do it for Mommy..." Gahyun grasps your face with either hand, staring intensely into your eyes, "Cum for Mommy," she purrs, and you do.

Your mind goes blank as pleasure surges through your shaft and into the warmth of Gahyun's belly, a seemingly endless tide of bliss that leaves you gasping for your Mommies. Squished between their soft bodies, you melt into them, unmoving except for the furious clenching of your manhood as it pumps an idol's pussy full of your sperm. When you come to, Gahyun has a look of sublime contentment upon her face, relishing in the feeling of her pussy being swamped by semen, her eyelashes fluttering with every fading pulse of your balls, "Fuck," she sighs, "Virgins always cum so fucking much, no wonder Nayeon got addicted to this..." Then she opens her eyes and smiles down at you, giving you a congratulatory kiss before asking, "So, how does it feel to be a big boy?" You awkwardly stammer out a reply to this goddess, but she laughs and hushes you after your words turn to gibberish, "Don't strain yourself dear, just relax, doesn't it feel so nice to be between us after you cum?" It does indeed, your usual post-coital sadness extinguished as you cuddle between the two idol's voluptuous bodies. After a little while, Gahyun slowly pries herself from your arms unmounts you, your cock soft enough that it flops out almost immediately, and her pussy squelches as it burps out some of your load. Giggling, she stoops down to clean your meat off with your mouth before rejoining you on the couch. The girls shift around, and you find yourself on your side facing Swan, as it is now Gahyun who presses up behind you, her breasts sticking against your sweaty back.

Swan hums soothingly, playing with your hair as her other hand traces along your sides along with Gahyun's, their touch making you shiver. You meanwhile suck on Swan's breasts like a baby, content in your vulnerability, feeling so safe and protected in their arms that you let down your barriers and indulge in the pleasures of being pampered again for the first time in a long time. The idols for their part seem more than enthusiastic about showering you with yet more attention, playing the part of your Mommies to perfection and lavishing you with love. And when you once again feel something stirring between your legs, the girls are purring with anticipation as they susurrate their soft bodies against yours, your pitiful moans only arousing them even more. Swan runs an idle fingertip along your shaft, causing you to twitch, "Does Mommy need to help her good boy drain his balls again?" You nod shyly, your submissiveness making Swan's lips part sultrily, "Well then, I imagine you want Mommy to sit on it again? You seem to enjoy just taking it..." Your cock bulges in answer, and both idols giggle. Swan huffs playfully, "Goodness Gahyun, what are we going to do with him?" Gahyun laughs, "Fuck him, of course!" Swan snorts before thoughtfully tapping her chin, "No, I think he should fuck me this time," she glances down at you, "I like making the cute ones work for it."

As the idols untangle themselves from you, Swan slips off her shorts, and finally pulls her top and bra up from where they had pooled around her neck. Fully naked, she leans back on the couch, allowing you to drink in the sight of her fertile body spread before you; from her pillowy breasts, down to where her healthy tummy curved into a prominent pubis that supported her puffy pussy. Trembling with nervous excitement, you hesitantly move between her legs until she stops you with a ginger to the forehead. She points downwards, "Eat your meal before you have your dessert," she chides you with a smile, before pressing down on the top of your head. Awkwardly, you crawl down her body, squirming around to support yourself properly as you breathe in the stench of your Mommy's sopping pussy. A layer of soft black hair graces her crotch, not long enough to get in your way, but it adds to the mature aura Swan was emitting. You lower your face down onto her sex, and timidly run your tongue up between her moist folds, lathering it with her honey. It tastes like an odd mixture of fish and piss, but your hindbrain correctly interprets it as delicious, and so you dig in with gusto. The salty tang of her pussy fills your mouth as you inexpertly lick up and down her labia, Swan holding your head in place with one hand as she gropes herself with the other, and you grind your crotch against the couch as you eat her out.

Eventually, Swan is satisfied enough by your efforts that she gently pushes your head from between her meaty thighs and hauls you back atop her voluptuous body. She was as soft as the cushions you had just been laying upon, her face flushed with arousal as she pulls you into a deep kiss while her arms clutch at your back. With the taste of both of her lips upon your tongue, you hump needily at her sex, prodding at her wet folds with your cock as you gormlessly try and enter her. With an amused sigh, Swan breaks off the kiss, and reaches down to guide you in, "No, wait like a good boy, just let me line it up and then-" she lets out a soft moan as you impulsively thrust forward the moment your tip enters her warmth, "Oh there you go dear, now you're inside Mommy..." The sultry heat of her pussy engulfs your shaft as you fill her until your balls press against her asshole, leaving you groaning her name as your cock pulses with pleasure. Swan pulls your head down into her breasts as you awkwardly start fucking her, your movements hindered by your inexperience, but your Mommy does not seem to mind. With one hand curling your hair while the other roams your back, she soothingly urges you to go slow, "Just like that dear, just focus on how warm and soft Mommy feels.." You try your best to keep your thrusts languid, you really do, but Swan's pussy was so wet it was dripping down your balls, and your body was unable to resist doing its best to plow her pillowy softness. Mommy is understanding though, and she locks her legs tightly around your waist as she urges you on, "That's it dear, its okay, Mommy knows how good it feels, Mommy is proud you lasted so long inside of her, so hush," she pushes your head against her neck so she can whisper in your ear while your body is fully meshed against hers, "Just let it out dear, it's okay to cum inside, Mommy will take responsibility, just relax and breed me," you moan plaintively as your thrusts grow long and deep, and Swan purrs happily, "Mhmm, there you go, breed me, breed your Mommy...oh there's so much..."

You shudder in Swan's loving embrace as the most powerful orgasm of your life rocks your body, your hips spasming as you try and unload as much semen as possible inside of her fertile pussy. The idol continues to murmur encouragement as pleasure gushes through you, her soft body feeling divine against yours as your overstimulated nerves make you writhe. You are left feeling drained and exhausted, your balls aching from the size of the load you had just spurted inside of Swan, sweat making your skin stick together as you lay atop her. Your Mommy does not try to move you though, instead letting you rest in her arms while your cock slowly shrinks until it is barely laying inside of her sloppy hole. Only once the after-effects of your climax fade does she release you, allowing you to stagger upright, looking down at her voluptuously formed body that you had so recently claimed with your seed. But lest you forget, you had two Mommies, and Gahyun was keen to remind you of that fact. Her kiss is hungry and demanding, her tongue invading your mouth and slaking itself upon your own. Your hands involuntarily come up and start groping her ample chest, which only seems to deepen her passionate kiss, until it feels like her tongue is going down your throat. You are left breathless and lightheaded, and you willingly allow Gahyun to pull your face down into her tits as she leans back against the couch, leaving you bent over with a nipple in your mouth.

Gahyun smirks down at you, "Suck on them, dear," she orders before glancing up, "Want to get him hard again for me?" she asks. You hear Swan shifting behind you as she gets up, "Oh sure, I don't mind cleaning up my own messes either," you feel her hands against your thighs as she makes you open your legs, "Adorable... oh wow, it is still leaking out, I wonder if I'll end up getting knocked up from this," Gahyun laughs, "Jihyo would love that," her gaze flicks down to you, "Did Mommy say you could stop sucking? Back to work dear!" Gahyun shoves your face back into her breast, force-feeding you her hardening nipple as you slurp messily upon it, "That's it, good boy!" Gahyun groans. Something warm and wet lazily traces its way up your shaft, making you start, but your Mommy keeps your attention firmly upon her while her counterpart toys with your manhood. Swan sucks and licks the sticky mess off of your cock, steadily nursing it back into its full length; your balls might still be recovering, but your member was already eager for more. Her tongue traces its way up your taint, as your dick is suddenly engulfed in a soft pressure that was rather familiar to you. You moan into Gahyun's boobs as Swan squishes her cleavage around your manhood, your entire length buried between her breasts as she uses them to massage you. Completely at her mercy, all you can do is mewl around Gahyun's nipple as Swan reminds you how stimulating a tittyfuck can be. Only when your cock starts to pulsate does she relent; after all, it was Gahyun's turn.

Gahyun wears a wicked smile as she bends over the couch, wiggling her ass enticingly as you shuffle over on your knees; your cock waving as it spears the air in front of you. Her smirk grows wider as your trembling hands grasp her waist as you clamber between her legs and into position, your dick rubbing between her modest cheeks against her slit. Your hotdogging grows more determined as Gahyun's lower lips moisten, your manhood eager to enjoy your Mommy's warmth once more; and so you angle yourself horizontally and press forward. For a second time, you simply end up prodding at your partner's folds, unable to figure out how to enter her, but before your frustration grows, Gahyun reaches between her thighs and grasps your meat, "Say please," she says, glancing back at you; and you do. She laughs, "So obedient! Can we keep him, Swan?" Your Mommy is kind enough to angle your cock properly though, even while she teases you relentlessly. You are unable to contain a shudder as your member slips inside of Gahyun once more, its tight folds gripping your shaft like a long-lost lover as you fill her pussy with every inch of you. Tentatively, you start to thrust, and soon discover why doggy was so popular a position, it was so much easier than missionary to get your strokes in! Gahgun giggles as you go to town on her from behind, expertly arching her back to drive you even wilder, "C'mon dear, Mommy likes it rough," she purrs, "So put your back into it! Make me feel good!" In all honesty, it was hard not to be a little rough in this position, the ease of motion and the cushioning of her ass cheeks made it difficult to resist slamming yourself against her as hard as you could. And while your balls were still gathering themselves for another load, your length was brimming with pleasure as you fuck your Mommy with youthful vigor.

The sound of your flesh slapping against Gahyun's was only barely louder than the noise her breasts made as they clapped together with every thrust. Your abs burn from overuse, your muscles unused to being put to use in such a particular manner and for so long, but you were unable to stop yourself from continuing to plow your Mommy; even as sweat pours down you. Her pussy was addicting, tight enough that your cock felt like it was in a vice, yet loose enough that you never had any trouble pulling out for a fresh plunge into her depths. Swan had joined the fun as well, squishing her curvaceous body up against your back, her hands stroking your chest while she urges you on; the feeling of her massive tits suctioned to your skin spurring you on. Gahyun suddenly begins moaning, hissing into the couch, "Yesssss, right there right there right there!" And when you start to fuck her even harder she snarls in approval, "Don't you dare fucking stop dear, just like that, Mommy is going-" she lets out a sudden gasp, and you feel her pussy spasming around your shaft; Swan purring with approval as Gahyun orgasms on your dick. You are left shocked and dazed, more than a little exhausted from your burst of effort, but still surprised that you had managed to make an experienced idol like Gahyun cum so easily... When she slips off your cock, her cunt leaves behind a layer of milky cream, sure evidence of your efforts.

Gahyun languidly turns around, smoothly moving to kiss you once more, and you are trapped between your two Mommies. both of them nibbling upon you while showering you with praise, "Oh good boy..." "Such a good boy..." "Just look at how nice you made Mommy feel!" "She left such a mess on your cock..." "It must have felt so good, didn't it?" "Mommy is so proud that you lasted so long..." "Your poor balls must be aching..." "Mmm... still hard?" "Oh... yes he is!" "Should we?" "We shall!" "Why don't we... you know?" "I think that's a proper present for our darling..." Your Mommies giggle knowingly as Swan slips around to your front and joins in devouring your lips, spittle slopping down your chin as her tongue joins Gahyun's in violating your mouth until your head spins.

Both Idols are smirking as they drag themselves down your chest, causing you to shiver as their rigid nipples trace along your skin. They kneel together in front of you, before wrapping one arm around each other's shoulders, and squishing their chests together, their ample breasts squirming against one another as they form a fleshy prison for your cock. With their free arms, the motherly pair grasp your ass and haul you closer until your tip is against the sweaty entrance to their conjoined cleavage. "Don't stop until your balls are empty, dear," Gahyun growls up at you, while Swan sighs, "Just relax, and let it all out for your Mommies, okay?" You nod hurriedly, before pressing forward into the supple pussy the idols made from their tits, your member buried in their soft flesh, its passage eased along by Gahyun's juices still coating your dick. Their breasts were large enough that you did not even emerge on the other side, and if anything it felt as good as their holes had, it was warm, moist, and oh so pliable. The sound of you plowing your Mommies' massive mammaries was appallingly loud, a dull squelching noise that erupted from between their cleavage with every thrust, but that just aroused you even more. You groan as you pump between their tits, holding onto their shoulders while you use their cleavage like the world's best fleshlight, your brain turning to mush as their warm pillows press in on either side of your manhood.

Your Mommies continue to pamper you even as you violate their chests with your cock, telling you what a good boy you were, saying how proud of you they were, how they just knew that you would be able to give them every last drop... The stimulation from their huge breasts was starting to get to you, and it was not helping that Gahyun and Swan would occasionally pause in their vocal encouragements to sloppily make out, their spit raining down onto their cleavage and seeping in to soak your penis. It was all too much. The idols' moans of pleasure, the burning heat suffusing your shaft, the texture difference between Swan's softer boobs and Gahyun's firmer ones, the feeling of their hard nipples scraping along your length as you thrust past them... You were going to cum, you were going to impregnate your Mommie's fat juicy tits, you were going to fill their cleavage with your sticky seed, you were going to drench them with your semen until your balls were dry. Your Mommies' eyes light up as you near climax, and they use their hands to drive you into them even harder, as a final groan escapes your lips and your eyes roll back as you finish. Ropes of jizz spew into the tight confines between Gahyun and Swan's breasts, dripping down onto their thighs while they gasp and coo with delight. Your orgasmic convulsions grow so strong with your cock head pops out from between its fleshy prison, showering their chests with your load and painting their chins with watery cum. With your cock now in the open the girls don't wait for a second, with first Swan taking your cooling meat into her mouth and slobbering all over it before letting Gahyun take her turn as well.

So that was how your first time ended, with two beautiful Mommies passing your messy cock between them as they sucked it clean; well, relatively clean. Of course they cuddled with you afterwards, pressing in on either side and purring with praise while your seed dried upon their flushed bosoms, giving you and each other more than a few kisses. Eventually you recovered enough to take stock of your surroundings, and you realize that you were in fact, no longer alone. Jihyo was curled up calmly in one of the chairs to the side of the couch, wearing not but an apron, blissfully ignoring the sizable wet stain on the fabric between her legs. She beams with pride when you notice her, clapping her hands in together, "So, how was your first time? Was it as satisfying as you thought it would be? Oh! Don't rush yourself dear, dinner is on the table, I'm sure everyone is absolutely famished!" You can only gawp as your cousin blabbers happily at you, just how long had she been there for? Just how much had she seen? But your stomach growls loudly at the thought of food, and your worries fade as you consider your much more pressing need. Somewhat awkwardly, the three of you untangle yourselves before following Jihyo into the dining room; if Gahyun or Swan were the least bit embarrassed at walking around stark naked around the other idol with her cousin's semen leaking from their holes and smeared across their chests, they did not show it.

After a somewhat awkward dinner where Jihyo merrily grilled you on every nasty detail of your first time, she cheerily shoos Gahyun and Swan out, though not before dressing them, and not before both of them gave you rather passionate kisses in goodbye. Then it was just you and your cousin Jihyo, who playfully undoes her apron, allowing it to pool at her feet; you had always known she was busty, but seeing her like this... Her tummy still bulged with pregnancy, and her breasts had swollen up even larger than you had ever imagined in your naughtiest wet dreams. Jihyo tickles your chin, "So, my darling baby cousin is now a man, I am so proud of you!" Somehow, Jihyo's praise hits you even harder than the others' had, and warmth fills your chest. Jihyo beams at your reaction, "Well, I'll stay for a bit and help clean up, but when I get back on Saturday..." she leans close, her engorged nipples brushing against your chest, "I want to see just how much you've grown up," she whispers, her eyes alight with lust for you in the first time you can remember. Then it is back to her usual teasing self, "Of course, Nayeon will want a turn, she's been sniffing your dirty underwear for like a year now. Oh, and I think Somi might be wanting to get in on the action as well, she's been masturbating to you for a while now..." she trails off, giving you an amused look, "What dear, are you so surprised? It tickles a girl's motherly instincts to see a boy with such obvious... issues."

As you go to bed that night, your heart is filled with a contentment that it had not been with in a long while. After all, you might have an absent mother figure, but it seems like you now had a plethora of Mommies to fill that void...

[withwritersblock]

Call It What You Want

~Call It What You Want by Taylor Swift~

Author's Note: Requested! I um well here's this um yeah

Summary: Luke's fans find out his girlfriend is a content creator and flood her comments with hate. Luke finds a way to comfort her.

Warnings: some mean language, implied smut like barely

Word Count: 3,440

It was an accident. She was planning on keeping her relationship as secret as possible. Her social media following was incredibly nosy. They would always over analyze every detail of her posts. Especially, her TikToks and her YouTube videos. 

She vlogged her life, sometimes it would be barely anything and other times it would be every detail of her life. 

When she started dating her boyfriend, she promised that it would not be something she would make content out of. Especially since her boyfriend was Luke Hughes. They started dating after being friends for nearly a year.

 Keeping their relationship private was easy since their lives didn’t necessarily change much. Since they were friends before they got together. He was never featured in any of her content since people would instantly make assumptions. Keeping it private became extra easy after he moved to New Jersey for the NHL. Although, it became suspicious after she stopped mentioning her boyfriend. 

She had spent several hours editing her most recent YouTube video where she was talking about how she was taking a break since she would be on vacation. Vacation was actually moving to New Jersey to live with Luke. She graduated early, since she spent three years of her life completely focusing on school, her videos, and Luke.

Since her eyes were so exhausted she didn’t notice that Luke was walking in the background completely shirtless. 

He was barely in the video, hardly noticeable. But both of their fans were incredible detectives and found it out within the first ten minutes of the video being posted.

“Lukey,” she called out towards him from her bedroom. She was sitting at her desk, starting towards her desk top. She continued to scroll through the five second clip that Luke was barely in. 

“Yeah?” he called back as he walked into their newly shared bedroom. He walked towards her as he rested his hand onto the desk as he delicately pressed his lips to the side of her cheek. 

“Remember how we were going to keep this secret for as long as possible?” she explained. He hummed as he brushed her hair off of her neck as he tilted her head to the side to kiss her lips delicately. For a moment, she leaned back to deepen the kiss. “Lukey,” she mumbled against his lips. He hummed again as he slowly leaned back. “They found out,” she let out as her eyes widened slightly.

“They—what?” he asked as he shifted his gaze towards her desktop. 

“Look,” she let out as she reversed the video slightly. She played the five second sequence and he stared blankly towards the screen.

“What am I supposed to be looking at?” he asked as he stared towards the screen, “Besides my beauti—”

“Not the time, baby,” she mumbled as she raised her hand up, gliding it across his cheek. He chuckled as he leaned closer. “Look, here,” she mumbled as she pointed towards the top left of the screen. Where he walked through the hallway, his gaze was on his phone as he was on the screen for a few seconds.

“That’s it?” he let out a soft chuckle leaving his lips, “Come on, I look like every guy ever. There’s no way people know that’s me,” he explained as he watched her scroll down and show the top comment on her video. 

Nohughesyno: I know Luke Hughes when I see him!! 3:56!

“Okay that’s one comment—” she interrupted him by scrolling through the rest of the comments. Every single one was mentioning that Luke was in the video. “Okay, that’s fine, we’re fine,” he mumbled as he took a hold of her chair, spinning it so that her body was facing him. 

“This could be bad,” she muttered as she looked into his eyes, pouting slightly. He rested his hands onto the desk as he leaned towards her, deliactely taking her lips with his. She hummed against his lips as her hands glided along his neck and into his hair.

“It will be fine, I promise,” he mumbled against her lips, “Now you don’t have to care too much,” he said as he pulled back. He watched as she slowly opened her eyes.

“You’re right,’ she mumbled.

“I’m always right,” he let out teasingly. She pushed him back, chuckling. He smirked as he leaned towards her kissing her urgently.

~~~

She thought Luke was right, convinced herself that everything would be fine. Except, the comments started off sweet. Many of them were happy to find out that they were together. She noticed that comments and views on old videos were sky rocketing as they were trying to find anything that they have missed. It was cute for a few days.

She thought what’s the harm in actually posting a video with purpose of showing Luke off. By showing him off, it was a two second clip of them posing in her floor length mirror. 

She was wearing a red sweater with black leather pants. He was wearing one of his all black suits. He was standing beside her, awkwardly holding up two thumbs up as they posed for the small clip. 

It was almost instant that the comments were flooded with awful comments. Many of them were calling her a gold digger, calling her ugly, calling her all of the awful inults you could think of. Simply because she was dating Luke.

It wasn’t just his followers that were saying awful things, it was her own. They kept saying that she was shallow for being with a professional athlete. Despite the fact that her and Luke met during their college orientation. She didn’t know that he was even drafted into the NHL since she never paid attention to hockey. 

She was sitting on the aisle of the WAG section, unengaged in any conversation. The first period flew by as the score was still 0-0. Her gaze was on her Instagram comments. There was such a flood of mean comments that at this point all she wanted was to find something that was kind. But there was nothing, no matter how much she scrolled.

Being content creator for majority of her teenage years, she was used to ignoring the comments. Not letting any of the awful words get to her. But something about the words saying that she wasn’t good enough for Luke really stabbed her in her chest. He was everything to her, all she wanted was for his fans to see that. 

Luke wasn’t active on social media much during the season so he was utterly clueless. Y/N was good at pretending, convinced that Luke had no idea how she was feeling.

The boys were skating back on the ice to start the second when Reanne delicately tapped Y/N’s shoulder. She forced her gaze up to meet Reanne’s gaze. “You’re too quiet, what’s going on?”

Y/N’s eyes widened while she took a deep breath. “Been a long day,” she mumbled as she watched Luke skate in a wide circle on the ice. A soft smile formed to her lips, knowing that he was there.

“Saw that you posted Luke on your TikTok. Huge step right?” she expressed. Y/N hummed as she watched the teams line up for the face off. She watched Luke instantly get in the play, pushing any conversation aside. Reanne’s lips fell into a pout but left her alone.

The rest of the game ended in a tight overtime win with a goal by Jack. It was usually how the games have been going for the last few games.

She waited outside of the locker room, her gaze on her TikTok comments. Every word stabbing her in the chest. There was only so much she could take. Especially about how Luke deserves better. She knew that the fans have no idea who either of them truly were but for them to still say that. It sucked.

She leaned against the wall, blinking away any tears that were fighting to form in her eyes. 

Hughesy542: I can’t believe Luke would be with someone who clearly has no personality. She’s probably only with him for his money

The comment continued to cycle through her mind. Her TikTok platform was completely different that how she handled her YouTube videos. Her TikToks, sure she seemed shallow there. Most of the content, the only content that would get views, would be her get ready with me videos. Sure, it probably seemed like that all she cared about is how she looked but she was more than that.

She knew that. Luke knew that. He wouldn’t be with her if that was the case. She was gorgeous but there was so much more to her than that. She hated being called shallow.

“Y/N?” she heard Luke say, she lifted her gaze to see him directly in front of her. She jumped and slammed her hand against her chest. 

“Jesus, Luke! You scared the hell out of me,” she said while chuckling. The corner of his lips curled upwards as he looked over her features.

“I said your name like four times, beautiful. You alright?” he asked as he reached towards her. She stepped back, dropping her gaze towards the concrete below her.

“Ready to head home?” she asked softly as she glanced towards him before she started walking away from him.

Luke pursed his lips forward as he took in a long deep breath. She didn’t give him a chance to reply as she began walking towards the car. He nodded as he pressed his lips together as he followed after her. He was practically jogging towards her.

She glanced behind her to see Luke reaching towards her. He took a delicate hold of her waist; forcing her to stop. She lifted her head up meeting his gaze. He scanned her features, taking note in the tears brimming her eyes. Reaching towards her, he pulled her into a tight embrace.

At first she was hesitant has she kept her arms to her side. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his center back. Luke took a hold of the back of her head, holding her tightly to his chest. Her entire body relaxed in his arms. A sob rised in her throat but she tried to keep it inside. 

“What’s going on?” he asked softly. 

Reluctantly, she pulled away from him, looking into his gaze. “I’m just tired,” she mumbled. He nodded while looking deeply into her eyes. 

“Okay,” he let out softly as she slipped away from his grasp. He held out his hand towards her and she happily took a hold of his hand. Luke watched her lead him towards his car that was parked in the back of the parking garage.

The drive home was quiet. It was usually quiet after losses but Luke and Y/N were always in great moods after a win. But she was so silent, that he knew something was wrong. They were only a few minutes away from their shared apartment.

“Baby,” Luke mumbled as they sat at a red light. She kept her gaze towards her lap, her phone was in her bag. She couldn’t stare at the comments anymore. The words were all jumbled in her head. Every word was intersecting with one another and making it worse. “Can you look at me?” he let out softly. 

She clenched her jaw as she slowly lifted her head to look towards him. He scanned her features watching her avoid his eye. “Talk to me,” he let out. Slowly, she pulled her lips between her teeth as she tilted her head back. Luke looked back towards the street in front of him as he drove ahead. 

“I–I can’t,” she choked out while she dropped her gaze back down towards her lap. “Not now,” she muttered. Luke’s eyes widened as he shifted his gaze back towards her momentarily as he turned into the parking garage.

“Okay, what can I do?” he asked softly, he took a sudden breath as he slowed down into the parking garage. She shook her head as she continued to avoid his eyes. “Baby,” 

“Luke please,” she mumbled as a sob climbed into her throat.

“Okay,” he let out barely above a whisper. He glanced towards her again as he pulled into his parking spot. “Can you tell me when we get upstairs?” he asked softly. She shrugged her shoulders as she unbuckled her seatbelt. Luke reached towards her, resting his hand onto her thigh.

“I will,” she muttered as she met his gaze. 

“Okay, my love,” he let out as he dragged his thumb across the fabric for a few seconds. She took a deep breath before she opened the door and climbed out of the car. Luke quickly followed in pursuit.

She was already walking towards the entrance to the apartment from the parking garage. Luke practically jogged towards her to catch up to her speed. Luke reached towards her, taking a hold of her arm for her to slow down. She glanced towards him as she slowed down, letting him take a hold of her hand. 

She began to climb up the stairs guiding Luke towards their third floor apartment. His thumb glided along her skin absentmindedly. Despite the stairs being inside, it was incredibly cold and he could feel it against the skin of the top of her hand.

Luke pulled his phone from his pocket and immediately pulled up DoorDash. He decided that she needed her favorite late night dinner. They ordered from the italian restaurant so many times, their order was saved in the app. By the time he ordered it, they were already outside of their apartment door.

She pulled her hand from his as she unlocked the door and immediately stepped inside. “I’m gonna go shower,” she muttered. 

“Hey,” Luke mumbled as he took a hold of her waist, spinning her to face him. “I’ve been very patient,” he muttered teasingly. Her eyes widened slightly as she felt a small smile form on her lips. Luke took a hold of her chin as he slowly leaned towards her. He kissed her delicately for a few seconds. 

“Better?” she asked softly.

“Better,” he mumbled as he pecked her lips once more. “Do you want me to join you?” he asked sweetly. Her lips fell into a soft pout as he glided his thumb across her bottom lip. “It’s okay baby girl,” he muttered as he leaned towards her and delicately pressed his lips to her forehead.

“I’m sorry,” she let out softly.

“Don’t be, my love, I’ll be waiting,” he mumbled as she slowly slipped away from his grasp. He took a deep breath as he watched her hang her head low as she rounded the corner towards the bathroom. He kicked his shoes off and started walking deeper into the apartment. 

Subconsciously, he pulled his phone back out and pulled out TikTok.

Of course, usually how it went, one of Y/N’s vidoes popped up. It was one of the ones she had posted early today. He watched the twenty-second: spend the morning with me video. Smiling to himself, he watched as the clip of the both of them appeared. In his opinion, he looked awkward.

He sat down on the couch, clicking the comments; out of curiosity. The first comment he read was saying that Y/N was ugly. His mouth practically fell open, offended that anyone could look at her and have that thought cross his mind. She was absolutely stunning. 

He shook his head as he continued to read each comment on her post. Every time he read a comment talking about her lack of personality, his mind would instantly think about every moment she made him laugh. How cute she would be every time she would dance while cleaning because she couldn’t sit still.

His heart starting beating rapidly the longer his name was brought up. Every comment with his name in it was saying how he deserved better. He never understood that. If anything, she deserved better than him. She was out of this world stunning and he felt like she deserved better. 

He clenched his jaw the more and felt anger send a rush of heat over his body. How can anyone not like the love of his life? How can anyone not look at her and think anything other than how beautiful she is; think about how kind she is; think about how funny and smart she is?

He took a deep breath and tossed his phone beside him on the couch. Tilting his head back against the couch, he squinted his eyes shut. He shook his head side to side as he contemplated what to do. Luke knew that’s what was bothering her. Usually, she was so good at letting it roll off of her back. But it seemed like it was everywhere and all he wanted to do was make it stop for her. All he’s wanted was for her to be happy, he hated seeing how this was affecting her. 

He was so consumed with his thoughts that he did not realize how much time had passed. There was a knock on his door and his eyes shot open. He stood up from the couch and took fast steps towards his door. 

He took a hold of the door handle and pulled it open to see the person delivering his food. He smiled widely, “Thank you so much,” he expressed as he took the cardboard bag from the DoorDasher. The person quickly darted down the hallway as Luke shut the door, twisting the locks in the process. 

Y/N stepped back into the living room, her hair was dripping went as her body was covered by a tank top and a pair of sweatpants. Her lips curled upward into a wide grin, “Is that what I think it is?” she asked as she hopped slightly towards the countertop. He chuckled softly as he nodded dramatically as he instantly started pulling out their dramatically large pasta dishes. 

She instantly wrapped her arms around him from his side. He wrapped his arms around her as he turned to hold her to his chest. “You’re the best, you know that?” she mumbled against his chest. He glided his hand up and down her back.

“I love you baby,” he whispered as he delicately pressed his lips to the top of her head. Before she pulled away from him to meet his gaze. His hand slipped beneath her tanktop as he glided his hand across her skin. “I’m sorry about what’s happening on social media,” he mumbled.

Her eyes widened as she tilted her head to the side. “It’s okay, Lu–”

“It’s not,” he let out as he looked over her teary features. “Everything they’re saying isn’t true, you know that right?” he asked softly as he glided his hands over her frame. 

“I know, it’s just a lot,” she mumbled.

“And you realize–like–you are so out of my league. I don’t care what my “fans” say,” he mumbled as he slowly guided her backwards. 

She chuckled as she rolled her eyes playfully, “Oh my god,” she let out. He smirked as he reached down and took a hold of her thighs. She jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her hands ran through his hair, tugging at the curls slightly. 

“Not only are you incredibly hot–”

“Luke–”

“Let me finish,” he said with a grin on his face. Slowly, he pushed open the door to their bedroom. “You’re literally fucking hilarious and adorable and sexy–”

“Luke, what are you doing?” she asked softly as he slowly placed her down onto their bed. He stepped back and took a hold of his red Devils jersey and tossed it to the floor. Her eyes widened slightly as she scanned his frame. His body was covered in redden marks from hits he took during the game.

“I’m reminding of who you are,” he began as he climbed on top of her, “You are my favorite person on the planet,” he whispered as he looked deeply into her eyes. She rolled her eyes playfully as she ran her hands from his hair down his neck. “I hate to see you hurting,” 

“I’ll get over it eventually,” 

“Can I speed up the process?” he asked, a smirk toying to his lips. Her eyes widened slightly while she nodded. Slowly, he began to press delicate wet kisses down her frame.

“I think it’s working already,” she mumbled as she arched her back slightly.

“Perfect,”

[personnage-neutre]

"Tintin, quel âge as-tu ?"

Today marks 96 years of The Adventures of Tintin, and readers have spent at least the last 78 of those years asking the same question: "How old is Tintin?"

The series is infamously coy about giving a definite answer, as was its creator, but I argue in the first part of this post that 1) there was indeed a specific intended age range for Tintin and 2) it is very much possible, using evidence from many different sources including the albums themselves, Tintin magazine, other BDs of the time, and interviews with Hergé, to say exactly what that age range was. Let me be very clear: I'm specifically making an argument about how old Hergé saw him as and how old Hergé wanted him to be seen as.

The second part is less concrete; it presents how a few scholars have interpreted the ambiguity of Tintin's age, plus some of my own thoughts about it that build on their claims. That part is less trying to find an answer to the age question and more trying to explain why his age is so much in question.

This is a long post.

I. Intent

Official sources

When asked about Tintin's age in a 1960 interview for Cinq colonnes à la une, Hergé judged that "il doit rester aux environs de quinze ans" ("he must still be around 15 years old," 0:33-0:44).

In 1962, he gave a very similar response on the Canadian program Premier Plan: "Une quinzaine d'années ? Quinze ans, seize ans, je ne sais pas, moi" ("About 15? 15, 16, I don't know"). "Donc c'est l'adolescent" ("So he's a teenager"), pursues the interviewer, and Hergé answers with a firm yes.

Nearly ten years later, in 1970, he added some nuance: "What age do I give him? I don't know... 17? In my mind, he was about 14 or 15 when I created him, a Boy Scout, and he practically hasn't budged. Let's say that he's picked up three or four years in forty years... All right, let's take the average: 15 plus 4, 19." (translation mine)

In 1979, his interviewer on Apostrophes preempted him on the age question, saying that "c'est un reporter de quinze ans" ("he's a 15-year-old reporter"). Hergé agreed: "C'est ça, à peu près" ("That's right, more or less").

Today, the official Tintin website run by Moulinsart declares him to be "Seize, dix-sept ans (dix-huit tout au plus !)," that is, "16, 17 years old (18 at most!)."

Responses to reader questions in the Journal Tintin

Early in the Journal Tintin's run, between 1946 and 1954, readers who wrote in with questions had a chance to see the responses to their letters published in the magazine each week. Supposedly it would be Tintin himself who was answering - questions addressed to him would be answered in first person, which probably only increased the urge to ask about personal details. So there were naturally many questions about his age, which provoked a range of responses.

Who was actually answering the letters? It's hard to say. But seeing as the responses were being published in the official Tintin Magazine as the voice of Tintin himself, Hergé would surely have been at least consulted on questions concerning his character, especially as the team running the magazine was still very small when it was regularly publishing responses.

The most common response was to dodge the question entirely. The stock phrases were "Qu'importe mon âge ?" and "Tintin n'a pas d'âge !" ("What does my age matter?" "Tintin has no age!").

In a small number of cases they related Tintin's age to that of his readers; an 11 1/2 year old was told that Tintin can be "l'âge que tu souhaites : entre dix et vingt ans !" ("whatever age you want: between 10 and 20!", 1953), and for a couple others, where the age of the writer wasn't listed, Tintin's age is "un peu plus que le tien" ("a little older than you," 1951) or "un peu moins que le double du tien" ("a little less than twice your age," 1950). The target audience of the Journal Tintin - as it was for the Petit Vingtième, and for comics magazines of the time generally - was 8-15 year olds.

The only definite answer that appeared with regularity put Tintin's age between 15 and 20:

(TIntin nos. 19, May 8, 1947; 26, June 26, 1947; 6, February 5, 1948; 2, January 12, 1950; 9, February 27, 1947. The second and third examples also have Tintin declare that "I've travelled so much that I no longer remember where I was born," a fine example of the de-Belgicanization he underwent after the early years.)

("As I've already told several of my friends, I'm older than 15 but younger than 20." (1947) "My age? Let's say 15… or a little older." (1947) "My age? Between 15 and 20 years old." (1948) "Tintin? He has no age! Seeing him move about, he seems to be about 15." (1950) "I'm not yet 20 but I'm older than 15." (1947))

Real-life incarnations of Tintin

When the end of Soviets was celebrated with "Tintin" arriving at the Gare du Nord in Brussels, the role was played by 15-year-old Lucien Pepermans. When the event was repeated for the end of Congo, two years later, Pepermans was replaced by Henri Dendoncker, age 14. About thirty years after that, Jean-Pierre Talbot was declared Tintin's spitting image at 16 ("Same age, same silhouette, same face, same hair," reads the announcement of his casting in the Journal Tintin). He was 20 at most when Blue Oranges (released 1964) was filmed. Hergé told Numa Sadoul that he unconsciously based Tintin in Soviets on his younger brother Paul, who was 16 when it started. Additionally, Palle Huld, often cited as an inspiration for Tintin, completed a tour of the world in 44 days in 1928 at age 15 (and in plus-fours).

(Lucien Pepermans, Henri Dendoncker, Jean-Pierre Talbot, Palle Huld)

In the play Tintin et le mystère du diamant bleu (1941), which Hergé was very involved in the writing and production of, the role of Tintin was played by Mlle. Jeanne Rubens, a woman - a common theater trick for portraying young boys. He was played by a woman again in Radio Luxembourg's 1950s audio adaptations: Claude Vincent, "qui interprétait à merveille les rôles d’enfants et d’adolescents" ("who played children's and adolescents' roles wonderfully"), was the voice of Tintin. Sadly those broadcasts appear to be lost, but she can still be heard in the likely similar role of Alix.

(Shared on forum-tintinophile.com, "Tintin aux Indes, ou le mystère du diamant bleu." Certainly the only adaptation that got his height difference with the Thompsons right.)

In 1959, the Journal Tintin invited readers who thought they looked like Tintin to send in their pictures; five candidates for "Tintin's lookalike" were chosen by the magazine and presented to the readers for them to vote on. The winner was a 15-year-old, and while the ages of the other contestants aren't listed, they appear to be the same age or younger.

(Tintin nos. 25, June 24, 1959 & 31, August 5, 1959)

Comparisons with contemporary characters

Mainstream BD in the first half of the 20th century was not particularly inventive, especially as it was contending with its relative youth as a medium, a focus on the children's market, and, especially after WWII, heavy scrutiny from both religious and secular moral watchdogs. In the specific case of the Journal Tintin, Hergé's iron-fisted artistic direction in the early years led to a high level of artistic homogeneity across the magazine, while restrictions on the types of stories that could be told (from both the threat of censors and expectations about reader interests) limited variety in plots, characters, and settings.

All that is to say that a lot of what was being published alongside Tintin in the 40s and 50s looked more or less like Tintin, and even was likely directly modeled on it, which makes it useful for comparison. The protagonists of the time can be generally divided by age into children, the "15-20" range, young men, and middle-aged men. Each category is visually distinct (comics are a visual medium!) and each results in a slightly different kind of story with different character dynamics.

Here's Tintin with a couple of the teenage protagonists that appeared alongside him in his magazine:

(L'Affaire Tournesol (1956), p. 51; La Griffe Noire, Tintin no. 6, February 5, 1958; Les Deux Visages de Kid Ordinn, Tintin no. 1, January 2, 1957)

Hergé's no. 2 collaborator Jacques Martin created Alix (center, 1948), a Roman Gaul confirmed to be 16 in the original albums. Chick Bill (right, 1955), who in looks and narrative role is effectively just Tintin as a cowboy, is identified (by none other than Franquin) with the 15-20 age range. Some shared visual markers of their youth are a short and slight build, rounded shoulders, a round head, and a soft jawline. While all very independent, they are all three semi-accompanied by a much older man and a child sidekick.

Now, here are some examples of characters from the next age range up:

L'énigmatique Monsieur Barelli, Tintin no. 44, November 2, 1950; L'ouragan de feu, Tintin (Kuifje) no. 37, September 15, 1960; Défi à Ric Hochet, Tintin (Kuifje) no. 8, February 25, 1964)

Hergé's no. 1 collaborator Bob de Moor had a humor-adventure series using the same style as Hergé, but his character, stage actor Georges Barelli (left, 1950), is a grown man. Martin's second series was required by publishers to somehow be a modern AU of Alix, but Alix's counterpart, reporter in the same way that Tintin is a reporter Guy Lefranc (center, 1952), is clearly older than him. So-called reporter, really amateur detective Ric Hochet (yes, that's his name, right, 1955) is kind of an odd case; he started out a child, then looked basically exactly like Chick Bill (they were both drawn by the same artist, Tibet), then finally settled into his final form as a young man in his mid-twenties - a 1969 album places him at age 26. All three own their own cars (admittedly a moot point for Alix and Chick), and, compared to their teenage counterparts, they're much more likely to have friends and colleagues their own age instead of being supervised by someone older.

It should be clear from these six pictures that Tintin was not drawn in a way meant to make readers think he was an adult. And besides, there's really no reason to believe that Hergé, who once declared that "my primary objective is to be legible. The rest follows," would have chosen to give his main and titular character an appearance that was somehow deceptive. I'm prepared to say with confidence that Tintin looks young because he's supposed to be seen as young.

Textual evidence

For this section, I first look at a few ways that the albums actively present Tintin as a non-adult character. However, most of what follows is about showing that what happens in the albums does not contradict the argument that Tintin is intended to be a teenager. The Adventures of Tintin may be deceptively timeless, but not only is the series nearly a century old, it also was written during a time of extremely rapid and intense social, cultural, and technological change. Consequently, I want to make sure that I'm not judging the past with the attitudes of the present; in order to put the series in its proper context, I try to identify viewpoints and conventions expressed in texts created at the same time (and, when possible, by the same author) to see if a teenaged Tintin fits in with them.

In looking over how other characters refer to him across the albums, one sees that Tintin's most distinctive feature to those around him is his youth. This is, I think, more visible in the original French, where other characters address or describe him with a whole array of words commonly used for children: jeune homme, (jeune) garçon, gamin, galopin, blanc-bec, enfant de choeur, fiston, freluquet, moussaillon, (mon) petit (used as a noun), and morveux, not to mention many, many instances of characters appending "jeune" or "petit" to another word ("reporter," for instance). In English, he's variously (a) young man, (young) boy, kid, boyo, whippersnapper, wonderboy, lad, brat, puppy, young fellow-me-lad, and cabin-boy, along with liberal use of the corresponding adjectives "young" and "little." (I've collected specific panel examples for reference in another post.)

As @professorcalculusstanaccount has pointed out, there's no question of Tintin being called up for the draft as Haddock is in Black Gold; that album also contains the only example of Tintin's competency being questioned because of his age, on page 7: "So you're the new radio officer... You look a bit young to me..." (There's one similar remark, in America, after Tintin is injured in a car accident on page 6: "The poor kid..." "He looks so young...") Him not being called to war is particularly striking because Belgium historically required young men to do compulsory military service at age 18 or 19, after which they would be enrolled in the reserve army (p. 274). Thanks to a hard-to-translate joke in the original French for Emerald (below), we know that military service exists in Tintin's world and that the Thompsons have done theirs; Hergé did his at age 19, and then was called up from the reserves in 1939, interrupting the magazine publication of, precisely, Black Gold. Given his longtime anti-war stance and the peace sign sticker he wears in Picaros, though, one can easily imagine Tintin becoming a conscientious objector after it was legalized in 1964 - but by 1964, most of the series was already over.

(Les Bijoux de la Castafiore, p. 37)

He also doesn't dress like an adult: the plus-fours look very childish after the 1930s, as @illegally-blind-and-deaf pointed out. He also never wears a proper hat, only a flat cap in a few early adventures, and from Temple on (that is, after 1948) he runs around in his shirt and sweater with no tie or jacket. Some of that can be put down to the importance Hergé placed on his characters being maximally recognizable, but it certainly doesn't make Tintin look any older - look at a few of Hergé's crowd scenes and compare how the background characters are dressed.

Next, he doesn't seem to ever need to shave. In fact, in the original French for Black Island, Tintin remarks that the bad guys have gotten away "à mon nez et à ma barbe," an expression equivalent in English to "right under my nose" but literally "at my nose and at my beard," to which Snowy incredulously responds "Your beard? What beard?"

(L'Île Noire, p. 29)

It's true that nearly everyone who meets Tintin, including his adult friends, addresses him respectfully with the formal pronoun "vous" instead of with the informal "tu," as you typically would for someone much younger than you. However, Pierre Assouline attributes this to a dislike of over-familiarity on Hergé's part, citing him as saying that "Le tutoiement est la fausse monnaie de l'amitié" ("Using 'tu' is the counterfeit money of friendship").

(There are a few moments where Haddock slips and uses tu with Tintin, but I won't go into them here. Suffice to say that the majority of them are indeed moments where he's treating Tintin more as a child.)

Much has been made of Tintin's nonchalance about drinking alcohol as proof of adulthood, but evidence from other BDs indicates that this perception is a result of a shift away from historically looser attitudes towards drinking. Early comics for children frequently carried moralizing messages, but there's no marked moralizing present around youths drinking like there is around them smoking.

Compare, for example, the difference in tone between these two Quick & Flupke pages, where the kids are sternly warned off from tobacco...

(Originally published in Le Petit Vingtième nos. 4, January 28, 1932 & 43, October 24, 1935)

...Versus this gag, where Flupke's own relatives getting him drunk on New Year's over his protests is played entirely for humor.

(Le Petit Vingtième no. 1, January 3, 1935. "Tu es un homme et tu dois boire!")

There was even a follow-up comic at the same time the year after, in which Flupke imagines the alcohol he'll be plied with on January 1st and attempts to move to the North Pole to avoid it.

If a kid as young as Flupke is being given alcohol, then Tintin really doesn't have to be much older to be drinking as well. In fact, one might even note an echo between Flupke's reluctance to drink here and Tintin's in Picaros, when he's pressured to take a swig of whisky by Arumbaya custom (p. 34). On the other hand, since Quick and Flupke are so young, the ban on smoking is stronger for them. Tintin is old enough to occasionally be offered a cigarette, but still young enough that he always must refuse: Hergé was adamant that Tintin remain a good model because of the children who identified with him, while Haddock smoking his pipe, for example, never raised the same issue.

Beyond that, for a non-Hergé example and a later one (from 1960), here's child tennis prodigy Jari, hero of an eponymous strip in the Journal Tintin. He's just bicycled from Belgium to the Netherlands and wants a refreshment, so he goes to a drink stand and orders a beer - and no one bats an eye. Similarly, the only alcohol that Tintin orders casually, in a cafe or pub, is beer (Golden Claws p. 2, Black Island p. 41).

(Jari et le Plan Z, Tintin (Kuifje) no. 40, October 6, 1960)

At the same time, this relaxed attitude has limits. Tintin won't share a friendly drink with Haddock, for example when returning to Marlinspike after an excursion (though Haddock pours two glasses anyway in Affair (p. 3)). Calculus scolds Haddock severely when he thinks that Haddock has given Tintin champagne at breakfast in Tibet (p. 4: "Vous avez bien tort de lui faire boire du champagne de grand matin, à ce garçon !…"). Later in that same album, Haddock drunkenly warns Tintin against alcohol, telling him it's "very bad for young people like you!" (p. 38).

Next, while Tintin is undeniably capable of driving a car, there's actually no indication outside of the earliest stories that he can legally drive. (A quick Google search also tells me that Belgium has historically been notoriously lax on road safety.) At no point after the first four albums - that is, after Hergé became interested in telling a story that makes logical sense, a development typically placed at Blue Lotus - does Tintin drive a car that was acquired legally, not commandeered or outright stolen. (In Soviets and Congo he buys a car; in Cigars he drives the two Rajaijah victims to the asylum, though I doubt anyone was worried about him getting pulled over in the jungle.) On the few occasions where there isn't an emergency, it's always Haddock who drives; see for example Crystal Balls or the few pages of Thérmozéro. When Tintin finally gets a vehicle of his own, in Picaros, it's... a motorbike, which one can get a license for at a younger age than for a car. And in Alph-Art, where the motorbike plays a much larger role, Haddock still drives Tintin into town (p. 25) - and then gets left in the car while Tintin investigates!

Hergé also apparently didn't think flying a plane was particularly difficult. In Jo et Zette, one of his other series, Hergé has little Jo be able to fly his father's "Stratonef" and even land it from a glide, despite only ever hearing his father talk about how to fly it. Over the course of the two-part story (Le Testament de M. Pump and Destination New-York), Jo manages multiple successful flights - more than Tintin ever does! - despite unambiguously being a child.

(Destination New-York, p. 41)

And as with the cars, every plane Tintin ever flies is stolen, so whether he has a legal license or not really doesn't matter.

The same goes for his guns. In all but the first albums and Ear where, surprised in his flat, he really does pull a revolver out of nowhere, Tintin's guns are explicitly either given to him or taken from a disarmed enemy. The series doesn't make a point of him owning and carrying his own gun - just the opposite. And while it seems to us now that Tintin has a lot of firearm use for a children's comic, proficiency with guns was honestly a genre expectation for all adventure heroes of the time (just don't put a gun on your cover). For example, Chang, who from his introduction on acts like a second Tintin, wields a pistol at the end of Lotus and is even implied to be the one who makes the shot that breaks Didi's sword despite appearing even younger than Tintin. (See also the previous section of this post; Chick Bill is carrying a gun in the picture I included.) What's more, the gunplay in Tintin is actually a step down from its predecessor Totor, where Hergé's titular Boy Scout kills a man with a rifle shot to the face.

In short, Tintin is able to do a lot of things he shouldn't legally be able to do by simply not doing them legally.

The fact that Tintin lives alone isn't necessarily a mark of maturity either. It's hardly uncommon for a young adventure protagonist to be unusually unsupervised; it's effectively a demand of the genre. Hergé learned why that is from experience when he created Jo et Zette for the editor of the French, ultra-Catholic children's magazine Coeurs Vaillants, who had raised concerns about how unrealistic Tintin was. In Hergé's own (translated) words:

(From Entretiens avec Hergé, reproduced & translated in The Comics Journal no. 250, p. 191)

Parents are a nuisance, one that Hergé was only too happy to dispense with in Tintin's case. And besides, Tintin isn't completely alone forever; with the introduction of the Marlinspike "family," not to mention Marlinspike Hall itself, during the war, he at least ends up with a home and some adult supervision, however dubious it may be at times.

As for his schooling, according to a report on the Belgian education system from 1932, education was only compulsory there (not to mention free) from ages 6 to 14. That same report records that in 1928, the number of students in the higher level of secondary education - corresponding to high school in American terms - was only 1% of the number of students enrolled in compulsory primary school. Even adjusting for the fact that primary education enrolls children for twice as long, the percentage is still a paltry 2.6%. And then the number of students in university that same year was only about three-quarters of the number of students in secondary education.

What that means is that at the time when Tintin was getting started, only very, very few people stayed in school beyond age 14. Hergé himself was one of those few, but to many of his readers in the early years, the idea that Tintin was already working at age 14 or 15 would have been not just reasonable but recognizable - especially as he has no apparent family to support him. (Not that Tintin isn't knowledgeable: judging from the number of books in his apartment, we can presume that he's quite the autodidact.) Of course public education was broadened after WWII, but by then the character was already firmly established.

As for how Tintin is already a reporter, well, Hergé freely admitted that he gave him the job just because that's what he thought was cool at the time. "Of course it was a pretext," he said on British radio in 1977. (The announcer for that interview describes Tintin as "a 16-year-old Belgian boy with a strange lick of hair, a pair of plus-fours, and a terrier." In it Hergé, questioned about the outsize success of his series, responds that for him "he [Tintin] keeps to be a little boy. Only that.") The tone of the series would be very different if Tintin were just an office clerk or a paperboy, after all - and besides, all but the youngest readers of Le Petit Vingtième would have understood that it's not a real newspaper, just a little children's magazine, so the idea of it having its own official reporter was not to be taken fully seriously.

It's important to remember that our current cultural idea of the teenager as a separate, unique stage between childhood and adulthood was largely a post-WWII American innovation - in fact, the word "teenager" only entered popular use in the 1940s. By contrast, fully half of the Adventures of Tintin (up to the first 2/3 of Crystal Balls) were written either before or during WWII. Hergé himself, born in 1907, began submitting illustrations to a magazine (Le Boy-Scout) at 14, was hired at the Vingtième Siècle at 18, created Totor and did his military service, reaching the rank of sergeant, at 19, and before turning 22 had been given full responsibility for creating and running the Petit Vingtième, gotten engaged to his first wife, Germaine Kieckens, and created Tintin. Being young looked different then.

To close this section I'll also note that, as far as I can tell, positioning Tintin as a teenager never seemed to pose much of a problem to anyone reading the series while it was actively running. Anecdotally, nearly every published source I've read takes for granted that he's an adolescent, and an exception like writer of multiple books on Tintin Renaud Nattiez saying on the air in 2016 that he thinks Tintin is at least 22 (~03:30-03:50) seems to be a uniquely 21st-century development.

TL;DR: Everything I can find indicates that Tintin was always intended to be around 15, and never older than 20, years old.

II. Interpretation

Finally, it's important to not overstate Hergé's commitment to realism. At the end of the day, Tintin can do whatever the story needs him to be able to do, because he's the protagonist of a very straightforward adventure serial. He's always been aspirational, even for Hergé himself: "Tintin is me the way I'd like to be: heroic, flawless." And yet Tintin, victim of its own success, has always been held to a higher standard of realism than its fellow comics, not to mention a higher level of scrutiny in general. Even if, as I've tried to demonstrate, Tintin's feats aren't entirely out of the range of possibility (or at least the norm for comics characters) for his time period, I'm not arguing that he's supposed to be a perfectly accurate representation of the average boy of any point in the mid-20th century. I also don't deny that he typically does act like an adult. So the guiding question here is: How can this dual nature of Tintin's - his adolescent status and adult aspects - be interpreted?

Jean-Marie Apostolidès writes that as "il unifie dans sa personne deux aspects opposés de l’existence, l’enfance et l’âge adulte" ("he brings together in his person two opposing aspects of existence, childhood and adulthood"), Tintin represents "un mythe réconciliatoire" ("a reconciliatory myth") of which the "fonction implicite est de ressouder entre deux générations une confiance brisée" ("implicit function is to mend a broken trust between two generations"). He names this type of child-adult character the "surenfant" ("superchild"), and argues that it is specific to the 20th century and the cultural shock of WWI.

For Pol Vandromme, who wrote the first book of analysis on Tintin (or on any BD), Tintin is simply a perfected version of the teenage boy, one that other teenage boys can aspire to. First, he cites as conventional wisdom that Tintin is around 15, and concludes that "c'est dans tous les cas un adolescent" ("in any case he's a teenager"). While Vandromme accepts that Tintin is presented as a teenager, he also points out that Tintin doesn't represent the experience of being a teenager; Tintin "ne présente [...] que les apparences de l'adolescence" ("only displays the appearance of adolescence") because he's so self-assured and stable, traits antithetical to "l'époque de la métamorphose" ("the time of metamorphosis") that is adolescence.

And yet "il [Tintin] demure malgré tout suffisamment proche pour que les garçons se disent qu'ils auront un jour la chance de lui ressembler, d'imiter son style de vie. [...] Ce que Tintin propose à ces garçons de quinze ans, c'est la figure achevée de leur âge. Il les venge de leurs insuffisances" ("he [Tintin] remains all the same close [i.e. similar] enough that these boys tell themselves that one day they'll have the chance to be like him, to imitate his way of life. [...] What Tintin offers to these 15-year-old boys is the perfected version of their age [group]. He makes up for their shortcomings"). Consequently, having put themselves in Tintin's place, these boys "ont l'illusion d'être déjà de la tribu des jeunes gens qui ont découvert dans leur sac de voyage les clefs qui ouvrent les portes de la fable du monde" ("have the illusion of already being part of the clan of young people who have discovered in their travel bag the keys that open the doors of the world's fable"). In plainer language, being able to identify with Tintin as an apparent peer lets teens imagine themselves as being more capable and powerful than their age allows in reality, an attractive illusion.

I'll add that the static quality of Tintin as a character that Vandromme identifies is dictated by the form of the series. When presented with a teenage protagonist in a work, the novelistic expectation is that what follows will be some kind of bildungsroman, where the events of the story will push the protagonist to change and mature into adulthood. However, I believe that it's a mistake to approach The Adventures of Tintin as a novel when it is fundamentally a serial - even late in his career, when he didn't need to do prepublication anymore, Hergé's approach to plot was still oriented around the page-a-week format. Serial characters, as a rule, change very little. Tintin gets compared to Sherlock Holmes more than once in the series, and it's also true on a meta level: Holmes has a few minor moments of character development, but he largely remains exactly the same over the course of Conan Doyle's stories, which were likewise published in a magazine. In a true serial, the status quo is god, because the main aim of the serial is to perpetuate itself - theoretically forever. And so Watson always finds a reason to return to Baker Street, and Tintin never gets old enough to think of settling down and getting a real job.

Like Holmes, Tintin does change and grow somewhat as a character over the course of the series, but also like Holmes, that growth is not a planned arc with an endpoint, as you would expect in a novel. Instead, it's just a result of Hergé himself maturing and changing. In his contribution to L'archipel Tintin, Benoît Peeters notes that "Grande est la tentation, pour beaucoup, de lire la série comme une totalité, un monument où tout signifierait" ("The temptation is great, for many, to read the series as a totality, a monument where everything has meaning"). And yet he declares that "si accomplies soient-elles... Les Aventures de Tintin se sont élaborées en l'absence de tout grand dessein" ("however polished they may be... The Adventures of Tintin were created in the absence of any grand design"), citing the testimonies of both Hergé and those who knew him at the beginning of the series. Hergé never really had a plan for Tintin as a character; he really did just put him in situations over and over again for a little more than fifty years. However, now that the series is only read in album format and serial publishing is less common, the "temptation" Peeters describes is even stronger. This mismatch in narrative expectations may be part of why modern readers might struggle to view Tintin as a teenaged character.

There's one more element to Tintin's strangeness: the world of the series was built around Tintin himself to facilitate his adventures. Vandromme recalls the fact, so obvious that it's easily forgetten, that "Tintin étant ce qu'il est et ne pouvant être un autre, infléchit l'intrigue d'une certaine manière. [...] Remplacez Tintin par le père Fenouillard et il vous faudra modifier l'album de fond en comble. Dans un roman les personnages déterminent les événements avant d'être déterminés par eux" (Tintin, being who he is and unable to be anyone else, influences the story in a certain way. [...] Replace Tintin with the father of the Fenouillards [character from a 19th-century comic about the misadventures of a French family abroad, n.b.] and you'll have to change the album from top to bottom. In a novel, the characters define the events before the events define them"). This point is especially relevant to Tintin given that the series' beginning was, to put it mildly, haphazard. Starting from Soviets, where Tintin is alone with his dog in a bizarre world where he can sneeze down a sewer grate, cut down a tree with a pocketknife, or fistfight a bear - whatever it takes to keep the plot moving - set a precedent for the character: that Tintin, and nobody else, will always triumph over whatever enemy or obstacle he is faced with.

Because it's founded on Tintin himself, there are no real adults in the Adventures, and in fact there can't be any. Preserving Tintin's Soviets-era boy hero status as the world of the series became steadily larger and more realistic created a kind of 'competency warp' where Tintin, along with his young "doubles," Chang and Zorrino, is effectively always the most capable, the master of the situation, while those closest to him who are much older (the Thompsons, Haddock, Calculus...) tend to act rather childishly. I think it's telling that the 1946 introduction of Blake & Mortimer is often hailed in terms like these: that "pour la première fois, les héros n'étaient pas des enfants, mais des adultes responsables dont la psychologie était en parfaite harmonie avec leurs fonctions" ("for the first time, the heroes were not children, but responsible adults whose psychology was in perfect harmony with their roles," emphasis mine). All the major adult characters in Tintin had been introduced at that point, but apparently none of them qualified as "responsible" or properly suited for their positions.

Apostolidès similarly notes a deforming effect: "Tintin est un adolescent qui, sans jamais entrer dans l’âge adulte, rajeunit le monde en se confrontant à lui. Au lieu que le personnage se soumette passivement au monde adulte, s’intègre dans une histoire, vieillisse et meure, c’est l’univers extérieur qui se fige dans le temps au contact du héros" ("Tintin is an adolescent who, without ever entering adulthood, makes the world younger by confronting it. Instead of the character submitting himself passively to the adult world, fitting in to a history, getting older and dying, it's the outside world that freezes in time at the hero's touch"). Not only does Tintin resist adulthood himself, he also protects others from its effects.

There are characters who escape the warp, but they must stay on the very edges of Tintin's orbit. One example is the efficient and no-nonsense Mr. Baxter from the Moon books. He has a real job: he's director of the atomic center, and every time we see him he's actually doing it. He also remains disengaged from the antics of the Marlinspike crew, often exasperated and confused by them. They don't belong in his serious space program, and he doesn't belong in their funny adventure series - hence the clash. Another (and very different) example is Jolyon Wagg. I wish I could remember where I read it, but I once saw it pointed out that Tintin and Wagg almost completely ignore each other; their only direct interaction in the whole series is saying hello to each other exactly once (Emerald p. 17). The unidentified author's point was that Wagg inhabits a world so intensely banal, so different from Tintin's - one with community organizations, salesman jobs, an old mother, an Uncle Anatole, a wife and (a lot of) children - that the two can't even come into contact. Wagg may be almost preternaturally obnoxious, but he's also a genuinely ordinary man in a way that the major characters really aren't.

Tintin must remain the sole and main driver of action, because if he isn't, the series would have to change fundamentally. That means no other character can threaten his role by being more competent and responsible than him - and so the adults become ridiculous and/or irrelevant, and Chang and Zorrino are only allowed to act for one album each. And yet Hergé created Tintin as a teenager, and suggested that a Tintin who progressed past teenagerhood would also grow out of adventure: "Il est difficile, pour un personnage comme ça, à le faire vieillir. Parce que s'il vieillit, il va avoir vingt ans, il va avoir vingt-deux ans, il va rencontrer une jolie fille, il va se marier, il va avoir des enfants..." ("It's hard to make a character like that get older. Because if he gets older, he'll be 20, he'll be 22, he'll meet a pretty girl, he'll get married, he'll have children..."). Tintin passing into adulthood, 'real' adulthood, symbolized here by settling down and starting a family, would make the series just as unsustainable as demoting him to a more technically age-appropriate role would; both sides of the tension between Tintin's youth and his maturity are required to make him a proper adventure hero for children.

And so he remained, as he remains today, the world's most competent teenager.

[kizzer55555]

Little Artist

So I saw this

and had an idea for Danny X Damian. Where Danny likes making various stories he publishes online. Everyone said he needed a hobby and he can’t be an astronount (or join a sport since it would be more suspicious if he left in the middle of a game or practice for a ghost attack) and Ghost Writer got him to try writing, saying it’s relaxing. And honestly? It was. Danny enjoyed making stories. Sometimes he would just type what crazy thing happened to him that day while tweaking names and a few details to not give away his identity. Sometimes he made fanfiction of some stories he liked. And sometimes he tested out making original stories, taking and first hand knowledge from various ghosts and cultures to make his writing more authentic. And after much encouragement from Jazz, he posted some of his work online.

Cue Damian coming across one of his brother’s laptops. He didn’t mean to look for long but he thought the file was for a case and wanted to know more about it. ….then he got invested.

There was an author on this sight who wrote amazing stories. The emotions captured were so vivid, and he even fact checked a few historical facts and languages used. Everything from the dialogue, to the accent, and culture. Each new story completely enraptured him.

It made his fingers twitch for a piece of paper. Some paint, perhaps charcoal?

Damian started putting heavy encryption on his computer and search history. And locked his art room up. Then came a story that truly resonated with him. An original work about a boy from a different place, trying to fit into his new reality and the new rules and expectations placed on him…worried if his family would accept him. It sounded so much like when Damian first came to Wayne Manor. And it sparked his inspiration. He spent days working on his newest piece. Trying different angles and lighting, mixing colors. It looked like a collage between charcoal and watercolor, showing someone leaving a world of darkness into the light, yet this new world was unstable and strange compared to the rigid structure of his old one. When it was finally done, Damian felt like he was both looking at himself and a stranger. The character from the story brought to life.

It felt both freeing and settling, like he finally had a name for what he had been feeling. AstroBoi13’s fics always had that affect on him.

And for the first time, Damian did something he thought he’d never do. He snapped a picture of his masterpiece and sent it to the author. Quickly so he didn’t lose his nerve.

It was fine. It’s just one picture. It’s not like this would be a repeat occurrence.

[crystallilytarot]

Anniversaries with your future partner/spouse

Pile 1

I am not sure if your partner would remember every little detail, I mean maybe not like first kiss, first date etc. But they will remember the big ones, your wedding day, when you were officially in a relationship, and they will put in the effort to be a little more romantic. I think they are a little bit more in the logical, practical side, so it's nice that they will try to say how much you mean to them, and probably a little gift, flowers, a nice dinner. I think these nights will be very sensual too. Later, you will probably have children or pets, and on these days, you both will be grateful for your life together.

Pile 2

You will probably travel to somewhere nice on these days. Even when life is busy, just a little trip, definitely some nice restaurant. Your partner feels very generous, they will spoil you. If you will have children /pets later, you will still find some time alone, and have a romantic evening together. You will be happy that you were able to spent another year with each other. It feels like you will be in love when you are older too. You are connected to each other in a deep level. It's so sweet, gentle, your partner is very giving and caring with you always, but they will try to be even more on these special occasions.

Pile 3

Your partner will make sure that you feel sexy and beautiful. Lots of touching and cuddling. Talking about everything, and just saying sweet nothings to each other. You are grateful for the anniversary and you have so much plan with each other. You probably like to surprise each other with a gift or an experience. But most importantly, telling each other how much you love each other. It will always be a sweet, but passionate night together. I think you definitely have some celebration, but the most important here isn't how and when, just to be together. It feels like an unconditional love.

[merakiui]

i’m not sure if you’re into hentai / 18+ doujinshis, but Maid Education: Fallen Aristocrat Rurikawa Tsubaki is really good! i’ve been thinking about something similar with Azul because Lord Peumann just gives me those vibes, and Azul with a maid! reader is so so hot (￣∀￣)… if you ever decide to check it out (assuming you’re unaware of what it is already), i’d love to hear whatever your brilliant mind cooks up! ( *｀ω´)

👁️ 👁️ I read it at your recommendation and omg,,,,, Azul in that position!!!!!! The master of the house with an ex-aristocrat darling, whose house he destroyed, and has now purchased you as a maid!!!!!!! AAAAAAAA \(//∇//)\ being so proud of your aristocratic status, but now it’s been reduced to naught and you’re just a maid forced to follow the orders of the very man who brought ruin to your house……. omg it’s delicious!!! And the maid training. >:) training your body to respond to him and him only. Soon your pussy will be far more accommodating to his cock after he’s fucked you raw a few times.

You can hate Lord Ashengrotto all you want, but your body’s starting to fall for him. :) hehe Azul reminding you of your new place whenever you think to be just a little disobedient,, an absolute brat who needs to be fucked and fingered into submission. Don’t forget you’re nothing more than a maid now. You serve him. Perhaps you’re just not used to it after having been spoiled your whole life, but now you must learn your place and listen to him. It would be a shame to punish you over something you can easily understand, wouldn’t it? he’ll say all with a slimy smile. >:(

AAA HE IS SO SLEAZY!!!! Wouldn’t it be so humiliating if you once looked down on him and bullied him, but now that you’re no longer a part of the aristocracy and you belong to him the roles have reversed!!!! Azul who decides to get back at you for all those times you treated him like he was a fool, making you get on your knees or spread your legs at his command. Gross, perverted master who can have you anywhere in his home, in any way, and you have no choice but to obey. And eventually, after so much “training,” you’ll succumb to his touch so quickly, getting wet even when he’s just barely touched you.

Greedy, bully tako who only wishes to make your life miserable and humiliate you by teaching your body to submit to him,,, only to somehow fall in love over the course of so much lust. 🫣 fucking you without feelings one day and the next he’s slapped in the face by all of the feelings when he sees how perfectly the two of you fit together, how sweet you are when you call out in that soft, breathy voice of yours, the way your brow creases when you scowl at him… every little detail is just so wonderful.

Azul who only knows how to bully you and is kind of a loser when he’s trying to be genuinely, truthfully charming. T_T too smarmy for his own good. You can’t trust him when he invites you to a picnic amongst the flowers in the gazebo. He just wants to fuck you with a pretty view, right? Isn’t that his angle? And yet you’re presented with a table full of sweets and tea and he’s insistent that you indulge. Most of it’s his own preferences. Admittedly, he only knows your weaknesses from his own research, but he’s confident he’ll soon learn your favorites with enough time spent together outside of your maid training. <3

And once he’s determined to make you his in ways outside of servitude, you’ll graduate from maid training to wife training!!!!! OTL

[hederasgarden]

Memorias

Summary: Late at night you and Lucius share memories of the lives you once lived.  Pairing: Lucius Verus x F!Reader Word Count: 1.1K Rating: 18+ only. Angst, mentions of spousal death, some humor and grief.  A/N: This story is part of Lucius and the Fisherman's Wife series. It takes place between Ab Initio and Post tenebras lux. Thank you to my dearest B and @ryebecca for looking this over. Inspired by this ask. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Gladiator Masterlist ♡ Masterlist

It's late, and the cool autumn evening seeps into the small cell you share with Lucius, bringing with it a chill that settles in your bones. From your place on the narrow cot, you watch him cup the flickering candle flame and extinguish it with his breath, plunging the room into a hazy, blue-tinged darkness. The bed dips and creaks as he sits, removing his sandals. You turn onto your other side, facing the wall to make room for him to slide in behind you. It’s a tight fit in a bed meant for one person. 

His bulk shifts the bed as he settles and his arm drapes across your side and stomach. You sigh, grateful for his warmth. The first time you’d shared a bed like this had been awkward and tense, your sleep restless and uneasy. The only person you’d ever been so close to in this way was your husband, and it had felt wrong to have Lucius so near. But the past few months had altered so much, and though you'd never admit it aloud, you find comfort in his closeness, in his touch. It’s a silent reminder that you’re not alone anymore.

You both adjust yourselves a few more times before finding a position that offers some comfort, even as the straw of the bed jabs into your skin and the thin, threadbare blanket provides little warmth. As you begin to drift off, Lucius's breath stirs the back of your head, soft and uneven. Then, a groan escapes him, a low sound of pain from the brutal toll the arena has taken on his body. You reach back instinctively, your fingers grazing his hip in a silent question.

"I am well," he reassures you, his voice rough but steady.

You fall silent again, blinking sleepily at the wall, but after a moment, his voice breaks the stillness. "You have been quiet today," he observes.

You don’t answer him at first, weighing whether to share your thoughts. You know that if you brush him off, he won’t push. He’ll leave you alone, but tonight, you find, you don’t want that.

"The memories are...close today," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lucius shifts behind you, moving to wrap his thick fingers around your forearm where it rests against the bed. The gentle pressure of his touch brings tears to your eyes, and you quickly blink them away,

"Tell me about them," he says, his tone gentle. “If you wish.”

“I do not know where to start,” you admit. 

"Something happy, perhaps?"

You exhale slowly, his suggestion tugging an unexpected memory to the surface.

"I was not always a fisherman’s wife," you begin, your gaze fixed on the uneven stone wall. "I was a merchant's daughter, destined for a different life. But then...I met him."

The thought of your husband is both painful and beautiful. He seems so young in your memories, even though you only lost him a short time ago. 

“I was never supposed to marry someone like him,” you continue. “But I loved him. Gods…” You let out a soft, watery laugh, a mix of sorrow and affection. “And his family took me in like I was theirs all along.”

Lucius’s fingers trace the soft skin of your wrist in a comforting, quiet gesture that urges you to continue.

"I knew nothing about mending nets, or preparing and cooking fish, but they taught me everything. One night..." You pause, a lump forming in your throat as the memory comes back in sharp detail, the simple joy of it nearly too much to bear. "I wanted to make dinner for everyone. To show my thanks. I spent hours preparing the fish, the sides, everything. But..." You hesitate, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at your lips. "I was not exactly the best at deboning the fish, you see..."

"You left a few bones in?" Lucius’s voice is soft, a teasing edge to it. 

“More than a few,” you admit with a laugh. "Not that anyone said anything at the time. They just quietly spat them out. I did not find out until later when he told me. I was mortified."

Lucius chuckles, a masculine, rich sound. “Perhaps I should humble myself with a story of my own,” he suggests, his tone light. “If only to make you feel better.”

“Oh, yes. That would certainly help,” you reply, turning over to face him. 

You’re close enough that your nose brushes against his, and you both breathe the same air. Your hands curl instinctively against your chest while his rests firmly on your hip. Your legs have tangled together and yet neither of you pulls away. There’s no discomfort in this closeness, it’s nothing compared to the intimacy you’re compelled to share during the day to sell your lie.

“It was when I was courting Arishat,” Lucius begins, his voice dipping into a more serious tone, though there’s still a glint of humor in it. “I was young, hardly yet a man. But I wanted to prove to her, and her family, that I was worthy. The problem was, I knew nothing of farming.” He pauses. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Oh?” You question, waiting for him to continue. 

“I rose early, before anyone else so I could complete all the chores by myself. I fed the chickens, collected the eggs, and saw to it that the pigs were well cared for. I even thought to milk the goat. But there was one problem. I did not know the difference between a male goat and a female one.”

To your surprise, a laugh bubbles up from your chest, one you quickly stifle with a hand over your mouth. Your shoulders shake and a rush of something light and airy courses through you, a feeling that’s both foreign and welcome after all this time.

“Arishat got a good laugh out of it too,” Lucius says, sounding aggrieved though you know he’s likely just as amused. It’s too dark to see his expression clearly, but you catch the flash of his teeth and know he’s smiling at the memory.

The two of you lapse into silence after his story, and without thinking, you shift closer. Lucius responds instinctively, pulling you in, his palm settling gently between your shoulder blades as he rolls on to his back. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing.

Sharing the memories of your husband feels oddly comforting; each time you do, he seems a bit less distant, his presence warmer, more alive. It’s as painful as it is reassuring. You blink away the emotion that stirs in your chest and exhale, the heaviness easing just a little. No matter the horrors the daylight hours might bring, you know that you and Lucius will always have these moments to hold onto.

♡

My inbox is open for your thoughts on this story, requests for drabbles with Lucius and further scenes with Lucius and the Fisherman's Wife

[martinsharmony]

After I got a divorce I lost my job. I spent the better part of 2 years unemployed. I had to change careers because I couldn't find a job in my chosen field anymore.

I had been applying to so many jobs and written so many cover letters that I didn't know who I was anymore. I felt like I was just changing who I was to fit any job I applied to.

This thing? I can do that! That thing! Yes! That's me! Even if I didn't feel it was because I desperately needed a job. I would say anything to get it. Doing this was getting me no jobs.

I had a breakdown one day. I ended up writing a brutally honest journal entry of sorts about who *I* am. Warts and all. Basically it was a "fantasy" cover letter. One that I really wanted to send.

Here it is:

Who am I?

I'm tired of trying to make it appear that I'm something I'm not: World class, best in field, expert at everything. I'm taking a different approach. This is me, honestly. Hopefully I will be a good fit for your needs.

I love designing websites and graphics. My creative style is traditional and highly detailed, with a bit of whimsey thrown in. I have been told my designs are well suited for corporate projects (particularly internal). They are not cutting edge, but I think they are pretty good.

My technical knowledge varies. I'm expert at most Adobe products in general (particularly Photoshop), as well as Windows and PCs. My knowledge in HTML and CSS is a little bit behind the times (I'm transitioning from tables and CSS1 to HTML 5 and CSS 3), but I'm learning. I have used a Mac before but haven't for some years. I happen to love trouble shooting and I can do light tech support. There are a few programs which I do not have much work experience in per se, but I'm confident that given the chance, I will become expert. I'm not afraid to admit that I don't know how to do something and ask, or use Google to find out how.

I am loyal. Aside from the short term contract job I just worked, my average tenure at places of employment has been nearly 4 years, with the longest being over 8.

I am honest and take people at their word. I give them the benefit of the doubt and believe people and companies (managment) have good intentions. Taking advantage of people, talking people into things and "gaming the system" are not in my nature. I tend to be a bit literal.

I am easy going. I get along with most people and working with a team is one of my favorite things about working.

I am dependable. I have been called tenacious by a former manager. I do not leave tasks unfinished and I take responsibility for my projects.

I am motivated by deadlines. I once took the initiative to take control of a major compliance project in danger of missing its deadline and rescued it by completing many of the courses left unfinished and creating the rest on my own. It had a visibility of over 3000 employees.

I enjoy production and administrative work. I work well when I know what needs to be done and the task is not nebulous. I take direction well.

I can manage projects that I feel I have an ownership stake in or know a lot about. I even feel that I can grow into a leadership role and perform it well once I understand fully all the parts involved and the players. I don't personally believe in managing or taking charge of that which one does not know anything about (but I do realize that other people can do this just fine).

I am detail oriented and meticulous. I tend to catch things that other people miss. I read policies and guidelines and follow them. I once managed a complicated ongoing project that required immense attention to detail involving coordinating with 3 teams, the print vendor, multiple shifting deadlines and thousands of files. Deadline and resource management was essential.

I'm analytical. But I'm also creative. I believe this gives me a unique perspective on creative solutions for usability. I enjoy problem solving and research.

I'm not world class or the "best" at anything. Who am I to say that? I'm realistic. I try to do a good job that satisfies all the parties involved. I enjoy pleasing people and making them happy.

A short time later I applied to a job that was in a different field through the referral of a former co worker. I took that journal entry and turned it into a cover letter.

I figured what the hell. Might as well. I didn't expect to get the job.

I got the job.

The only things I removed were the phrases in pink, and I added this at the end:

I am a helper. I enjoy pleasing people and making them happy. I try to do a good job that satisfies all the parties involved.

Give me a call or email if you would like to know more. I look forward to hearing from you.

Have a great day :)

The lady that hired me eventually became my friend. Later on she told me my cover letter is what got me the interview. She said it really stood out. And when she met me, she liked me.

Reading this over again, most of these things are still true about me over 10 years later.

huge shout out to past me for making a cover letter template that i can fill in with bullshit fairly quickly. do you guys want it?

[quibbs126]

Okay, I think I’m FINALLY done with these designs. Well okay, I said Megatron might need some reworking, but shush, I’ll do that another time

I was not expecting this to take as long as it did. Apparently I started making this at 9 in the morning, and it is now 9:30 at night. Optimus, I am almost certain this is your fault

Anyways, as mentioned prior, the idea here was to give the Earthspark Cybertronians protoform designs like the Terrans, what they might look like when they were in this stage, because I haven’t seen anything to claim Cybertronians in this series don’t also have this stage, unless I’m wrong

I mean theoretically, Cybertronian protoforms could look entirely different from Terran protoforms, but we don’t know at this juncture, so I used the Terrans as my main references

Pretty much the main thing was trying to turn their blocky features smooth, while also taking out a bunch of their little details, like their antenna and horns

Honestly I still think Elita turned out the best, which is maybe a bit sad considering she was the first one I finished, but oh well. I don’t think everyone else was horrible, but I think she just looks best

I think Bee’s design is fine, and it was honestly refreshing after struggling so much with Optimus, but I can’t help but feel like his eyes are still wonky

Like I’ve said, by the end of things I think Megatron came out the worst. He was the second one I did, so I wasn’t sure, but by now I think he is. The real struggle with him is that his entire helmet is comprised of angles, when I need curves. And then there’s his side things, which I still do not know how to translate here. The idea I was trying to go for here is the top half goes around his head, while the bottom half is attached at the ends, but it’s the bottom half that looks weird. But ah well, hopefully I can fix it later

And then there’s Optimus. The majority of the time I’ve spent on this was him. It was mostly the struggle of his vents and trying to make them un-blocky. It was getting really frustrating particularly because I couldn’t think of anything new to do with them to change them, drawing the same thing over and over

But then I remembered, this Optimus was once Orion Pax, a fact I was planning to omit. But that meant I had something else to draw on

And it’s what finally got my brain to make his side things into the curves you see now. It’s also why his middle thing is solid black, like how it seems to be in the picture above

But yeah, I wouldn’t rate his design as the absolute best, but it’s serviceable and I’ll take what I can get

But aside from trying to change their designs, I think I had fun. I noticed by the end of it that they all have different face and eye shapes, and that’s pretty fun

Speaking of which, I notice with this how small Optimus’ eyes are here. They may not look it in my drawing but they’re a lot smaller than the others in the show. Is that one of the reasons his design looks so off? Like I know it looks weird, I just can’t place how exactly

But yeah, take these designs, the culmination of my drawing abilities for the day. I’d like to do more with them, I just don’t know what. Best I can think of is like, a fic premise where the Cybertronians somehow get reverted back to these protoform stages, and the Terrans now have to help them out

[thefallennightstars]

STILL A WIP

Veilguard left

but the people's princess' and the inquisitor are done!!!

i spent so much time on their details that it feels unfair to the previous two couples i drew-

[my-my-my]

hiiii can i request a scenario for shinji hirako with an s/o who is usually not physically affectionate but really loves listening to his heartbeat when feeling stressed or overwhelmed?

Oh this is sweet! I think this would be my first Shinji fic. Thank you for requesting it. I'm going to put it with post-TYBW Shinji.

Summary: Work sucks most days, but getting yelled at for something that's not even your fault? That's even worse. Thankfully Shinji knows just what you need.

TW: This is SFW. Workplace abuse, verbal harassment, mentions of stress and incompetence.

“Are you that much of an idiot to not understand where vents should go!?” Yelled Captain Kurotsuchi at you. You flinched as he ranted on about your work in redesigning the Squad 12 barracks.

You and your team were leading the redesign and renovations of various barracks across the Gotei 13 after the war with the Quincies. And you had received the ire of Captain Kurotsuchi. You knew he would be difficult, which is why your superior assigned you as the leader of the small team working with Squad 12. You would be able to handle it. You were focused, diligent and attentive. Any details and requests, no matter how miniscule, would be overseen by you.

Which is why you were exhausted hearing Captain Kurotsuchi rant for umpteenth time today. You looked around apprehensively for Lieutenant Akon. It was much easier to deal with him than the captain, but he was nowhere in sight.

And your colleagues ran off to hide, even though it was their mistake to begin with putting the vent over his computer (and in what world did that make sense anyways!? You wanted to yell at them.)

But no, instead you were being yelled at as you tried your best to apologize for the error. Another colleague ran to remove the ventilation item, but it was too late.

It didn’t help that the rest of Squad 12 looked at you like some kind of idiot, being scolded by the teacher. You hated feeling so small.

So powerless.

You tried biting your lip, squeezing your fists as Captain Kurotsuchi waved you off, muttering how useless you were.

As he walked away, so did you, into another room to calm down. Your colleagues swarmed you, after scurrying away from Captain Kurotsuchi’s fury. It was humiliating, hearing their fake apologies.

“Leave me be, please.” You muttered to them, as they tried consoling you. You couldn’t register what they were saying, but one of them managed to find Lieutenant Akon.

But you were too exhausted and overwhelmed. You had spent over 14 hours doing renovations.

“I’m sorry for this Lieutenant Akon, but I’ll have to resume the renovations tomorrow.” You bowed your head apologetically. “My colleagues here will clean up.” You said, giving them a glare as they sheepishly agreed.

“Thank you for your work today.” Lieutenant Akon said, giving you a wry smile. “I got the gist of what happened. Don’t worry about today. You and your team have done an excellent job so far.” He smiled, “I’ll let the captain know tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” You sighed, bowing your head again.

“And I’ll be around tomorrow. So you can come to me with any questions.” The lieutenant explained, hoping that would make you feel better.

You gave him a soft smile, but left the barracks exhausted. You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. Renovations were already hard work, and to have someone call you an idiot and every other related word at you, for more than 10 hours?

You didn’t realize, but you were shaking in fury.

“Hey, doll. What’s with the frown?” You knew that voice from anywhere.

And after the day you’ve had, it was a voice you needed to hear.

Without even thinking, you wrapped your arms around Captain Hirako. He immediately tensed at the sudden motion, but relaxed as he wrapped your arms back. Shinji frowned slightly, noticing the shakes your body was making.

“Why don’tcha come back to my office?” He held you closer, stroking your back. “I’ll play your favourite record and we can open those snacks we’ve been savin’ for, ok?” You nodded your head in his chest, as he held your hand, walking towards the Squad 5 barracks.

It wasn’t Shinji’s favourite genre of music, but it helped you relax. The two of you were lounging in the loveseat couch in his office, your body on top of his, laying peacefully as the music filled the room.

Your shaking stopped, thankfully. Shinji looked down as he stroked your hair. It wasn’t often you would want physical affection, so Shinji savoured the moments when they came.

He just hated how it would come to be. What sort of anger, frustration and ineptitudes you must have faced to lead you to this state. You had fallen asleep in his arms, as you cried into his chest about the awful day you had.

Shinji wanted to go down to the Squad 12 barracks and yell at Kurotsuchi on your behalf, but you would have been more upset. Instead, playing a record that soothed you, having your favourite snacks on hand, and of course his presence, was enough to calm you down.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep in his arms either. The lull of Shinji’s heartbeat, the warmth of his embrace, and his long, thin fingers, stroking your hair and body, put you in a daze. You murmured to him, with sleep lacing your voice, of what happened. Shinji would squeeze your arm in reassurance, hold you closer to him as he kissed your forehead.

Whatever had happened before, whatever will happen later, will never matter, you thought to yourself. Unconsciously you snuggled closer into Shinji’s chest.

The tenderness of Shinji’s love for you was enough to persevere – tomorrow will just be another day.

Thank you for requesting this, anon! I hope this is what you had in mind.

This is the song I was listening to, that would also play in the final scene. Home - Resonance

[rebeccathenaturalist]

It has been a few years since I took a botanical illustration class. Since my winter semester is lighter on teaching and other activities than the rest of the year, I had been considering registering for the botanical illustration class through Portland Community College's Community Ed program (who I also teach for!) My partner insisted on paying for it for my Christmas present, so who was I to say no?

This morning was the first class--and we got to draw ferns! Specifically fronds of western sword fern (Polystichum munitum), one of the most common native ferns in the Pacific Northwest. I am a very slow artist, so what you see on the paper is the result of two and a half hours of work, a large portion of it spent just trying to get the individual leaflets right. And of course the shapes of everything changed as the frond began to dry out and distort, so that was an additional challenge. There were a bunch of times where I felt pretty frustrated, but I worked through them, and now that I look at what I drew today I feel much better about it. Sometimes it just takes a little bit of distance to appreciate something better.

I was talking with other students about the difference between examining a plant in detail to try to identify it, and to try to draw it. With the former, I'm attempting to verbally describe what makes this plant different from a similar one, whereas the latter requires me to depict its uniqueness through the lines I draw with my pencil. Even though the sensory input is the same, the parts of my brain that I'm engaging differ, as do the ways in which my brain communicates with my hands. It's been a really good exercise, and I wish I had more time to draw outside of these occasional classes. But I appreciate that I get to have this experience now, over the next few weeks.

[elainsgirl]

It’s interesting how the Lucien scene had only 2 lines. Meanwhile the hybern rescue got a whole chapter and it was brought up multiple times in acosf. Sarah wants us to remember this moment.

Yh, I can’t think of one elucien scene Mass placed so much importance on aside from the single half step towards Lucien, Elain made. Every single scene is written to be awkward, clueless or doubt why they’re mates. I think the only reason eluciens are riding so hard for the ship is bcs “sunlight��� connects both Elain and Lucien, thats what they’re putting all their faith on.

Whereas w elriel, they have had so so many significant, stark moments that stand out. Truthteller being one - to the point it was important enough to be included in the coloring book AND brought up FAS. Azriel rescuing Elain - that whole scene was detailed - Sjm honing in on Azriel’s mate like reactions. Again, it was memorable enough to be brought up in acosf.

With elucien, in each book after acowar they only thing that is repeated is how Elain and Lucien are still awkward around each other and Elain does not want him -> Mass also showing how good Elain is doing apart from Lucien. And he too has made some sort of life for himself away from Elain.

Its like - the only thing Mass wants us to remember about elucien is how tense and distant they are from each other but when it comes to elriel? She wants you to remember how: It was Azriel who risked his life for Elain and saved her, not Lucien. Azriel who gave Elain truthteller - the first person to wield it outside of him, how Elain has been getting Az gifts but nothing for Lucien, How Azriel is the one to spend time w Elain - not her mate. How the cauldron has been questioned TWICE now in regards to it being wrong about Elucien.

I love how Mass has showed Elucien vs Elriel and which man is better for Elain. You don’t have to make assumptions or twist canon quotes, Azriel has done everything for Elain that her mate was meant too. Az understood Elain. Az helped her. Az saved her. Az listened and saw her. Az spent him time w her. Lucien was clueless. Lucien doesn’t know Elain. Lucien never helped her. He didn’t truly see what she was going through and what was happening. He didn’t save her as he was off finding another woman.

In this point of the story - elucien have had too many negative symbolisms- literally fox and the fawn being negative and far from romantic - for Mass to switch up and make them romantic now.

[persephoneggsy]

an idea i've been rattling around in my head for a while: Phryne Ingellvar, as a Mourn Watcher, has her own collection of grave gold. When she got temporarily exiled from Nevarra, she opted to leave her collection with her daughter for safekeeping. Once she gained access to the eluvians, she went back home and retrieved her collection.

While she doesn't wear every piece daily (being a frontline warrior, she's worried about damage), she will wear everything for special events. Otherwise, she can most often be seen wearing the earrings.

More detailed descriptions of each piece below (I spent all of last night thinking about this lol):

Crown: Phryne was adopted by Prudence Ingellvar, a Mourn Watch necromancer and noblewoman from a minor Nevarran house. As such, she had access to a lot of fine jewelry. The crown supposedly belonged to Prudence's great grandmother. She was originally going to have it for her own grave dowry, but decided to pass it down to Phryne shortly before she passed away. The gems are lapis lazuli and turquoise.

Necklace: Made of pearls and sapphires. Prudence had this made for Phryne as an 18th birthday present. Unfortunately, before said birthday, she and Phryne had a massive argument that ended with Phryne running away from Nevarra. She eventually returned, heavily pregnant, and later gave birth to her children, Rothe and Elke. Prudence gave her the necklace on her twentieth birthday to show there were no hard feelings.

Earrings: When Phryne was turning 30, Rothe and Elke wanted to buy her a piece for her grave dowry, having recently learned about the tradition from their grandmother Prudence. Prudence escorted them to a fancy Nevarran market, only for the then-ten-year-olds to become enamored with a simple pair of pearl and green-glass earrings that were not worth very much. However, they insisted, so Prudence relented and purchased the earrings for them. It's one of Phryne's favorite pieces in her collection.

Shoulders: This elaborate set of gold, pearl, and amethyst gems was Emmrich's formal engagement gift to Phryne. I like to headcanon that couples will gift each other pieces for their grave dowries throughout their lives, usually in the form of smaller trinkets, like rings. However, Emmrich is not one for small gestures, and says that he's making up for lost time, since he and Phryne found each other later in life. Phryne joked that he gave her something that draws even more attention to her breasts.

Belt: Phryne joining the Mourn Watch was a contentious thing. When she showed no sign of magical ability like her mother, Prudence planned to instead have Phryne live the typical noblewoman's life; namely, by arranging a suitable marriage for her. This was the source of the argument that caused Phryne to run away. When Phryne returned and had her children, she maintained that she did not want an arranged marriage. She had learned fighting skills while abroad, and so asked her mother to put in a good word for her so she could join the Watch as a warrior. Prudence agreed, and had the belt made upon Phryne's formal induction into the order. It, of course, depicts the Mourn Watch beetle-and-skull emblem.

Bracelet 1: A simple gold band that Phryne bought during her year away. This one is from a market in Starkhaven, one of her favorite places that she visited.

Bracelet 2: This gold bracelet has an inscription on the inside: Knock 'Em Dead. This was given to her by the captain of the mercenary group she had joined while traveling. He was amused by her connections to necromancy and would often say the inscription to her. Phryne still has fond memories of the man.

Bracelet 3: Though he died before Phryne had been found in the crypts, Prudence had a husband named Romauld. He'd been a dwarven stonemason who left Orzammar after Prudence visited (studying dwarven funerary customs) and fell heads over heels in love with her. Though he worked mostly in stone, he dabbled in metalwork and made a few pieces for his wife. Prudence kept most of these for her own grave dowry, but gave a gold cuff bracelet to Phryne when she was a child. It depicts geometric patterns typical to dwarven jewelry. Phryne got her name from him, as he'd once told Prudence that if they ever had a daughter, he'd want to name her Phryne.

Ring 1: A delicate band with a jasper gem, purchased from a jeweler in Orlais during her year abroad. She simply likes the look of it.

Rings 2+3: After the dust had settled after defeating Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain, Phryne sought out a Nevarran jeweler to make this piece. It's two rings which slot together, depicting the emblem of what the people of Thedas came to call her little group: the Veilguard. She also had matching rings made for the other members of the group.

Armor Ring: While in Orlais, Phryne befriended a struggling artist, encouraging him to pursue his craft. When he sold his first painting, he used some of the funds to buy this intimidating yet elegant piece for his muse. He actually went on to become a successful artist, and his most sought after painting is one depicting a Nevarran mercenary reclining... in the nude. The model for the painting was, of course, Phryne.

Ring 4: Upon hearing about the grave gold tradition, Bellara gifted a pair of rings to Phryne and Emmrich. Phryne's is a wide metal band with a strange blue stone set into it. Bellara has sworn up and down that it's a harmless, deactivated trinket she'd found while exploring. Phryne trusts her, but swears that she can sometimes see a shimmer around the stone.

Ring 5: Purchased for herself after she was exiled from Nevarra, during her travels with Varric and Harding. She was homesick and bought the ring to remind herself of Nevarra and its traditions. It's from a caravan they encountered on the road.

Mirror: I figured grave gold doesn't have to be exclusively worn, just stuff you're buried with. So Phryne also has a hand mirror that she commissioned for herself. She adores rats, and has an undead rat named Melchior, so the mirror depicts a rat skull on its back.

And I didn't draw it, because it wouldn't have been visible anyway... but I'm playing with the idea that Phryne has certain... piercings. Emmrich's seen them, and they're arguably his favorite of her collection. B)

[cursed-40k-thoughts]

Having read them, did Mitchell's weird thing for describing Keira, a teen girl, and how sexy she was in loving detail feel weird to you too? I brought that up on the Warhammer reddit and people blasted me for being concerned with that and not all the grim darkness.

Yeah, there's a very palpable and understandably discomfiting sense of "this book was written by a dude" that permeates a number of GW's works, especially when it comes to female characters. They've gotten a good bit better about it in the last.... decade? Maybe 8 years? But it's very much an obvious thing.

Like, Felix in Gotrek & Felix is straight up creepy a couple of times, McNeill has a whole history of being weird about women in his novels. Mitchell's descriptions of Keira were uncomfortable, and also he has not good descriptors of Slaaneshi cultists in the Cain novels.

I don't think it's malicious, so much as a clear-cut snapshot of the consequences of GW's historically poor editorial oversight combined with the bulk middle aged Englishman writing force that has only recently been diversified.

It's traceable and painfully obvious looking in and back, but GW has all the turning speed and self awareness of a whale carcass (It's an English company, go figure). So yeah. It is what it is, I suppose. Worth being aware of. Valid being critical of. GW has, historically, spent a lot of its time being too insular for its own good.

Also, word of advice, don't go looking for much objectivity or critical observation on Warhammer subreddits. The people there seem to alternate between having never read a Warhammer novel in their lives and consuming information exclusively from 1d4chan and YouTube shorts. Get a pet fish and talk to it. Probably more beneficial.

[slaaverin]

To hell and back

This post is very difficult to make for me. This is not about BTS, or about fandom, but about mental health, and my personal story. I never really opened up about it anywhere except in a few facebook groups. But today is the day I decided to speak about my story.

It is surely more for me than for you.

Very few people in my friends and family can really understand what I have been going through, because it is a topic so complex that even I have trouble understanding it sometimes.

Well, firstly, I am schizophrenic. At least according to science. If you asked me though, it would be a different answer.

The truth is, I became spiritual again when I was 25, not long after discovering BTS. I took on a meditation practice and grew my consciousness very quickly.

Someday, I had an idea on how I would be able to help the collective, and I thought about becoming clairaudient (hearing the other side). So, I "hear voices". I followed my intuition on how to achieve this, and after some time it actually worked, I could hear.

So this ability to hear was totally consented on my part, I wanted this from the start.

But yeah, according to science, when you can hear anything, they put a schizophrenic label on you. I think it's mostly that they are in over their head with this kind of subject, and they simply don't understand everything enough to really be able to help anyone, except with medication.

Unfortunately, the universe is bigger and more nuanced than a label, so I never really got help from psychiatrists. I had to navigate through this on my own.

Everything was going fine at first, I was learning how to use this ability, and things were going well.

But someday, everything went to shit.

I won't go into that much details, I'll spare you, because it is pretty horrific. But long story short, I made a trip to "hell". Literally.

Of course, I myself do not believe in the christian hell. I've studied spirituality enough to understand it is not that literal, and there are many realms with different purposes.

But there are some dimensions that are close enough of what we would imagine hell to be like. And I have gone there.

I spent 2 weeks in 2 dimensions at once. In my physical body, but also in this dark dimension.

It's not really important to believe in this, or to argue whether it was real or not, because the thing is, my experience, impressions, feelings, all of it, were real to me. It felt real. It felt tangible. The mechanics does not matter, what matters is that I experienced it, and the trauma from it was real.

It was the most horrific, the darkest, the most twisted, so terrible that words cannot even give it justice. It is an experience that I felt somehow was a glitch in the matrix. Like we should not be able to experience something like this, it should not be allowed.

But it was. And no matter how much I cried for help, prayed all the gods, begged, no one came to save me. I could not sleep, did not eat, and barely functioned during those 2 weeks.

I felt left there, abandoned, alone, helpless, in total despair and horror, and with a pain that was so profound that I thought it would kill me. I was patiently waiting for death to take me, in how much my heart was broken into a million pieces.

I got annihilated entirely by the end. No emotions, no thoughts, no personality, no beliefs, nothing that made me me, was left.

I was gone, an empty shell. I had been entirely destroyed. A metaphorical death.

But something was left. A tiny flicker.

It was the light of my consciousness, my divine spark.

I understood then that even the worst darkness that exist would not be able to destroy my light, and that I was eternal.

So all of my fears vanished. I began clinging to that light and use a strength I didn't even know I posessed to crawl back from the pit of my own hell.

I had PTSD for years after this experience. And it was not truly over. I was still plagued by many interferences, trickster energies, evil things.

But over time, I healed, and brought back the pieces of myself that were scattered, and my psyche, even with PTSD, began to mend.

But now I had to learn how to play "the game". How to not get tricked, how to keep my internal balance despite being surrounded by nothing but darkness.

Some day the darkness put so much pressure on my being that I thought of ending my life. And that's not really like me, because I'm really pro-life.

But it's like I've been through some fucking intense internal military-like training, with no rest, with no pause, and no mercy. Ever.

It pushed me to my limits.

So of course I transformed. I became stronger mentally, I learned discernement, I took my power back, literally my entire being was totally refined.

I mastered "the game" of darkness, outsmarted them, mended every breach of my psyche, moved past all my fears, and my mind became as cutting and sharp as a knife. It took me years, but I learned the lesson. And I can say that darkness was my greatest teacher. The wisdom I gained, there is really no price for it. In the end I saved myself.

Today, I am good. I work very hard to keep my internal balance, to remain optimistic, to keep spreading love around me.

If you saw me you wouldn't tell I have any particularity lol

But to say this whole process has been hard is a understatement. It is SO FUCKING HARD like it's so hard and complex and layered that's it's really a bit ridiculous?

Sometimes I feel like I'm in a very bad movie, so I guess the universe and my higher self really have a weird sense of humour. But I laugh it off too because it's better than crying about it.

I know we are never alone, and that everything supports us, but the illusion that we are is really strong sometimes. Almost no one would be able to understand my experience, without having lived it, so I feel like I'm bearing this cross on my own.

But you know, all of this really puts things into perspective. The fact I have been in a place such as this, survived, and came back, makes every other little problems in life feel truly trivial.

I don't know what your faith is, it is not really important. What I learned in my studies is that most people who actually go to those places had things to learn, it's never "some punishement". It's clearly not because I deserved it.

But I did my share of learning indeed. Today I feel like I am a better version of myself thanks to this experience.

I believe it was for my highest benefit, because I can't reconcile senseless pain and hurt in my mind with a loving god. I know things aren't random.

It all began because I wanted to help. So in sharing my story, I want you to share a message of hope.

The deepest pain, the darkest fear, nothing that is abyssal and scary and any emotion you might feel, none of it will actually hurt you. You cannot be hurt. You cannot be destroyed by anything, ever. We just think that some emotions will kill us, so we avoid to feel them. We fear, so we flee.

If you actually embrace your fears, it won't kill you. It will liberate you. Nothing else will happen.

You know why we come to earth to have crazy experiences and we don't mind the trauma and the pain that come with it? Because our souls know that we are not taking any real risk in the first place.

Your light is deeper than the deepest fear, largest than the most painful hurt, and you are safe at all time, even if it doesn't feel like it.

So please, rest easy, don't take life so seriously, it's all going to be ok. We will all wake up from this dream someday and go back to love, and it will only be a memory, a blip in our eternity.

We are safe & loved.

I think I needed to get all this out of my chest.

(Please don't feel the need to psychoanalyze me or feed me religious doctrines, I had years to process and really understand the mechanics of everything that happened to me so far, but obviously I didn't want to turn this post into a million words so many aspects are left out.)

Thank you for reading my post and take care💜