#currently trying to figure out if it could work to make them be built in the center of an impact crater

[carpsoup]

making an astronomy/meteoritics iterator oc when i know fuckall or at least just very basic things about those things was maybe a mistake. Looking up stuff for reference/inspo like haha i like your funny words magic man

[strangeasexuallegume]

I redesigned the EG Mane Six! I tried to go based of the general design ideas of the originals, though I did deviate where I felt it better suited the characters.

Twilight: For Twilight I mostly went for something that could look decent enough to make up for the fact that she has definitely been wearing it three days in a row. That bitch is NOT taking proper hygiene and you know it. I also wanted to play around with the idea of her struggling to walk no matter what, making her own mobility aids (that are albeit low quality and seriously uncomfortable since she was working with what she had) the first night that she was there, and then at some point Rarity reveals that she purchased and bedazzled a much better and comfier set of aides for Twilight. Other than that, not much else to say.

Fluttershy: Tbh, I don’t have much to say about her other than True Stoner Rights and also I wanted to give her a look that would look nice enough to wear to school without risking being picked on, and also isn’t too outside her comfort zone. The look is based on what I thought as a kid was “Parisian fashion.” I imagine that that Fall Formal dress is actually outside her comfort zone, but she didn’t wanna make Rarity come up with a different outfit and honestly the whole thing was outside her comfort zone so it’s whatever.

Rainbow Dash: I HAD TO FIX IT. RDS IS THE ONLY ONE IM CONSIDERING FIXED BECAUSE THIS IS NOT. MY. GIRL!!!! First off, why did they make her a SOCCER PLAYER??? TRACK IS LITERALLY HER THING SHE WAS BUILT FOR SPEED— I made her a track athlete instead. Second off OH MY GOD THESE OUTFITS ARE SOOOO NOT HER STYLE UGH, I KNOW THAT THESE DESIGNS ARE MOSTLY TO GO WITH THE SAME TREND AS MONSTER HIGH BUT TRJEJSHDJDGSISDRAGH THIS IS NOT RAINBOW DASH!! SAME THING WITH HER FALL FORMAL OUTFIT WHAT IS THIS, THIS ISNT WHAT SHED WEAR TO A PARTY!! UGH!! STUPID!!!!!

AJ: A lot of her outfit was me working on pure nostalgia from when I was a kid in the early 2010’s. (Oh yeah I forgor to mention, I tried to change these designs to fit what I thought would work for 2013. Aside from Twilight, she looks more current to look more out of place) I remembered stuff like the ankle/shin high boots with all the different buckles that I remember adoring, the jeans or shorts that’d have all sorts of pretty embroidery on them, etc. etc. I also wanted to try and make her fall formal dress look more casual, which I figured would work since I’m assuming Fall Formal is sort of like the homecoming of this universe. Overall, hers was one of the most fun to design.

Side note, RD and AJ are making fun of each other’s trademark poses in all of the default pngs

Rarity: She was kinda easy, I don’t have a lot to say about her if I’m being honest. I think she was the one that the designers ate with the most. Even her fall formal dress, there’s not much I wanted to change and was actually kinda stumped for a bit on what to do differently.

Pinkie Pie: she is my Maximalist Kandi Scene Furry Queen. When dying her hair she either did it herself or told the person at whatever salon she went to that she wants to “look like an acid trip.” The non binary flag was made one year after EG first appeared but the genderqueer flag was made in 2011 so Pinkie Pie got True Genderqueer Rights. I couldn’t control myself and gave her straps. She stands out like a bleeding thumb. I love her. By far the most fun design. This was so incredibly self indulgent and I couldn’t be happier.

Edit: forgot to add, I used this pose reference by @albanenechi !

[valyrfia]

The Sainz Effect on Media: What the Hell is Going On?

Last weekend, Carlos Sainz Jr. won the 2024 Australian GP, and subsequently, almost every single F1 media outlet has seemingly lost their minds. From the aramco power rankings giving him a perfect score (despite Max not getting one for a grand slam last weekend), to motorsport.com acting like a fan account, everyone is tripping over themselves to sing his praises.

F1 is a complex sport, it requires several different aspects to even get a car moving, even more to make it competitive, and even more to enable a championship fight. From driver line-up, to aero, from international politics, to tyre deg. There's no other sport like it. To truly be an expert in Formula 1, you have to have knowledge of how a track works, an understanding of combustion engines and aerodynamics, a grasp of interpersonal and sports psychologies, and a sense of international relations. This is why, even more so than any other sport, good journalism is vital to the sport's ecosystem. No one person can be expected to be an expert in all these areas, you need a team of people who are willing to pool their knowledge and resources before coming up with conclusions to disseminate to their audience.

But media also likes narrative, and media likes an underdog, that is undeniable. And you can create an excellent underdog narrative with Carlos. From losing his seat despite his teammate keeping his, to him having to get his appendix out in Jeddah, the circumstances are there to set up an underdog narrative. But the crux of the issue is this: anyone with any sort of F1 wheel knowledge understands why Charles was kept over Carlos (a better driver even in a car built away from his driving style, who is revered almost as a messiah figure amongst the traditional fans of the team), why Sir Lewis Hamilton is a much more desirable asset to a top team than Carlos (7x world champion, who brings in a massive draw for talent that will far outlast his stint with Ferrari). So what do you do with these characters who don't match the narrative that you want to push?

Simple. You discredit them.

Make no mistake, this is what we're seeing across every major F1 news outlet in the past week. A plain journalistic choice to choose narrative over integrity. There's all sorts of rumours whizzing around as to why that could be: from possible covert payouts from Sainz Sr, to possible misogyny towards Leclerc fans to pundits simply not being bothered to do their research. But the why of it, although important, doesn't matter nearly as much as the fact that however you look at it, these journalists are failing the sport they claim to love. What's even worse, is that it takes a simple glance at numbers to tell us that these media outlets are digging themselves a hole, and are going to have to backtrack or try and excuse their belief in this narrative in the coming months.

Let's take a common line that Sky Sports like to use as an example, "Carlos Sainz is driving for himself. How incredible would it be if Carlos could compete for the championship this year." Max Verstappen will likely win the championship this year, there are no ifs and buts about it. Red Bull are still developmentally leaps ahead of their rivals, and even if Ferrari were to catch them, Max is still at the wheel. And if Ferrari were to catch them, why would Ferrari prioritise Carlos over Charles? The only driver who has been proven to be able to beat Max in his current form at Red Bull on pure pace is Charles Leclerc, which he achieved in Las Vegas last year, and would've gone on to take the win at that same race if not for the safety car. The most likely championship fight this year is Max Verstappen vs. Charles Leclerc, and that's hinging on Ferrari matching Red Bull development. This outcome is blindingly obvious to anyone who knows how this sport works, and yet the current media angle seems to not be to explain how the sport works to the general public, but rather to double down on narratives that are certainly going to be proven incorrect in a manner of months, if not weeks.

Let's look at another common angle the media seem to like to take, "You have to ask, did Ferrari make a mistake swapping out Carlos Sainz for Lewis Hamilton?". Now, if you've been even near a TV showing F1 in the past ten years, it's pretty obvious this answer is of course not. Lewis Hamilton is likely the greatest driver of all time, his name in a lot of cases outshines the sport itself. No other driver on this grid even comes close to his level of acclaim. This reason alone is enough for Ferrari to sign him. Ferrari has not won a championship in close to two decades, the best and brightest engineers want to be working where they know the results are going to come from, and right now, as a stellar engineer, Red Bull or Mercedes or even McLaren would be a choice over Ferrari, which has the added hurdle of moving to Maranello (considering nearly all the other teams are located in the Midlands in the United Kingdom). Acclaim aside, Lewis Hamilton is still a very impressive driver. P3 in the championship last year to a Red Bull 1-2 is not something to be taken lightly, considering his teammate finished in P8 in the same car with only one more retirement. It does make pure racing sense to sign him over Carlos, who finished in P7, especially since Ferrari have an up and coming talent in Ollie Bearman, and what they need is someone with experience to fill that gap until Ollie can make it to Ferrari, and will likely happily step aside when that time comes at some point in the next five years.

However, has there been a single major F1 news outlet calmly and rationally explaining this thought process for those who may enjoy the sport but are not experts? No. Instead, what we get is Sainz sensationalism, and bias so explicit it tips right over into unprofessional. From The Race saying that a Sainz/Leclerc civil war is Leclerc fan hysteria, despite their own outlet running an article just months ago about tensions in Ferrari, to motorsport.com creating a CV for Carlos, and then proceeding to harass fans who ask why they are so keen to ignore facts. Every single F1 outlet seems to have lost their minds.

The sad thing is this will only backfire massively on Carlos himself. Charles will outperform Carlos, every metric from the past year indicates so. Ferrari may be in the running for the WCC by the midpoint of the season, but Carlos's win will fade into distant memory long before we reach Spa, and the average enjoyer will look back on all this crazy media hype and go "hm, well he didn't live up to expectations did he? He was massively overrated." And this too, will be the fault of F1 media.

In conclusion, F1 media sensationalism has failed Charles, Lewis, and Max, it will fail Carlos in the coming months, but most of all, it has failed the fans of the sport, by choosing to focus on far-fetched narratives, rather than deliver proper journalism and build equally compelling narratives out of the data on the table. It highlights a lack of skill and awareness, which threatens the entire ecosystem of the sport that we all know and love.

[greenflowerceo]

hii im suuper late to my own week ik (i'll post the rest of the days from time to time, college applications were a pain </3 but i've got most of it down

This piece is a redraw of my very first post ! This has been a wip since the start of the year so my art style unsurprisingly changed a bunch as i tweaked the lines and colors. it's not the best but it's looking as good as it can be!

as for the zine, people are free to draw up pieces for the week up until the end of september and we can compile it all together! it's not really the usual zine format but who knows.. we can maybe try to figure out a way to formally start a more structured zine project for these two

Anyway! I've decided to dedicate my greenflower week posts to my headcanons I've made up for them from the past 4 years.. I figured you guys could take a peek into my brain since I haven't really been good at that unless you catch me in a vc :") there's a buncha hcs and old ass art i never posted finally unearthing under the cut if you wanna take a peek

So, first thing: Body headcanons..

i took super long getting what i want with this waay back when I started posting cause I was still figuring out a lot with my art. i couldn't get in good details/features that would properly differentiate them or make them fun to draw. I wasn't striving to be really innovative with the designs or anything, I just wanted them to feel like characters I like looking at and thinking about

finally, i'm somewhat able to settle on these as of right now! It will most likely update as the time passes and my art changes, but this is what I got!

basically the main idea is that i wanted Lloyd to be bulkier but sharper. grew up fast and has all these edges, but then you get to know him and he's just a big ol dork. Mostly wears loose-fitting clothes that hides his figure, but he's quite built underneath

Brad's a lil taller and pretty lanky. my art style may not be able to show that properly but lloyd can snap him in half <3 he also seems hella chill but that's probably cause he got balls of steel after living through a million ninjago invasions

This thing below is an old outfit concept I have for a project that I've been working on. does not reflect my current headcanons with his physical appearance but i do like his clothes

I think he loves his role as the green ninja, saving the world and such. it came with lots of baggage and reflection but i do promise that he enjoys it for the most part. I think him wearing green is kind of like wearing work clothes so he tends to avoid it on days when he's free to keep from being too ready to jump into ninja mode

i do tend to keep him in green though cause the fandom sure does love their color-coded ninja

anyway .. that's about most of what i've got for this that looks good enough to post, so here's a bunch of other doodles/sketches, both old and new ToT

oh and a quick comic too cause why not

one more: bonus greenflower yuri

thanks for coming to read this far :) there'll be more soon

[morganwrites12672]

How many?

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean asks how many tattoos you have (request).

Rating: PG-14

A/N: Thank you so much for the request!

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It was late at night. Y/n and Dean had just wandered back to her motel room. The bar had grown boring after a few beers. With nothing better to do (working cases in small towns really did suck sometimes), they had decided on her motel room. Dean knew that Sam was probably fast asleep in the motel that the two brothers were sharing.

Dean's eyes grazed along your exposed arms, taking notice of the tattoos littering your body. He had always found them beautiful. Especially because they were often hidden for cases. Not many federal agents had that many tats. That's what made it so hard for Dean to stop staring at the intricate lines of ink along your body. Each tattoo told a story, some just for fun though. He admired them all the same.

Y/n raised an eyebrow as she noticed Dean staring. There had ways been a little bit of underlying tension between the two. They had shared heated looks before, nothing more despite the obvious chemistry between the two. It would never work out. Or, that's what Dean and Y/n thought. That's the reason nothing had ever happened. However, they had both had too many beers to be thinking reasonably.

"See something you like?" She asked, her voice holding a teasing tone.

Deans eyes quickly snapped up to her face. She had interrupted his focus. He sighed, his cheeks growing slightly warm. He hadn't expected for her to notice. The alcohol had clouded both of their brains. Just enough for something more.

In only a few quick seconds Dean had stood, and crossed the room. Y/n quickly stood in front of him. Deans eyes traced over the art covering her body, trying to figure out how many she had.

There was a certain type of electricity in the air. Neither Dean nor Y/n were sober enough to make the smart decision. Neither one of them were sober enough to say goodnight. No, they were both far from it. Years of suppressed feelings and lingering stares had come bubbling up.

"How many do you have?" He asked, his gaze hastily taking in an estimate. There were many varied sizes of the tattoos littering her body. And that was just for the ones currently visible.

A sly smirk crossed her face as she replied, "Why don't you find out?" She said, her face only inches from his. She wanted him to. She wanted him to slowly undress her, and figure out just how many tattoos she had hiding beneath her clothes. The thought made her cheeks flush even more.

Dean quickly parted his lips to reply, but whatever snarky reply he had been about to say died on his tongue as he took in her flushed cheeks and desperate eyes. His hand went to her cheek. Their eyes met once again.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He asked, his voice husky. He slowly leaned down and their lips met. It was like every single second of built up tension between the two exploded.

Y/n closed her eyes as she sighed into the kiss. Her arms wrapped around Dean's neck, her fingers threaded through his hair as the kiss deepened. His tongue traced her bottom lip, begging for entrance.

Before she knew it, Dean had laid her against the bed and began unbuttoning her shirt. She could see the raw desire in his eyes. He wanted a hell of a lot more than figuring out how many tattoos she had. He had other intentions. They both did.

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A/N: I had so much fun writing this request! Don't forget to comment and reblog! And, as always, my requests are open!

[6okuto]

GOOD WITH KIDS

ushijima, suna, hinata, akaashi, sakusa, kita, atsumu with their kids ^__< reader is never mentioned so u can imagine them as single dads if u'd like 🫶

USHIJIMA’s tall, to say the least. his daughter finds this incredibly beneficial to her every few days. all she has to do is walk up to his spot on the couch and look a little fidgety, biting her bottom lip, for wakatoshi to smile. “is something high up again?” “yeah…the cereal’s on the top shelf again! i didn’t put it there last time though, i swear.” she furrows her brows as her dad stands up to his full height. “well, let’s get it down from there together, then.” he easily pulls her into his arms and she giggles, maneuvering her way to sit on his shoulders with practiced ease. “make sure not to bump your head,” he reminds her, slowly walking to the kitchen. “i won’t!” she carefully holds onto him, and wakatoshi’s glad she hasn’t figured out he’s the one who’s been putting things high up whenever she’s finished with them.

SUNA holds his daughter's hand, his phone with two tickets to the barbie movie open in the hand that's free. they had gotten ready together—rintarou had let her put her cutest pink clips into his hair, and made sure to get a shirt that matched the shade of her dress. he took her to buy a whole outfit for the occasion, from the dress to her bag to her shoes. the pair had taken photos and videos, one currently posted on his story that had her face out of view, but bow in her hair shown off. “can i get the barbie popcorn combo, too?” she asks in line. “yeah, you wanna get a photo with the barbie cut-out after?” “yeah, yeah! she looks so pretty.” rintarou hums and lets her swing their arms back and forth, careful not to hit the people around them. “i think you’re even prettier, though.”

HINATA has always supported his son in decorating and expressing himself, which is why when he wanted to decorate his room, he couldn’t say no, even with his lack of artistic skills. instead, they worked together to fill online shopping carts with different merchandise and furniture and got temporary wallpaper that would fit the bill. a couple of weeks later, and now shoyo finds himself sitting on the ground setting up a new desk, surrounded by boxes and different figures that will hopefully fill the bookshelf they built a few hours earlier. “dad?” “yeah?” “do you think i could get some of your team’s stuff, too?” “my—” shoyo fumbles with the screw in his hand in shock. “like, like your shirt? or something signed by uncle bokuto?” the question could make shoyo cry, he thinks, and he makes a noise of excited agreement. “of course you can! do you want to check my old high school stuff, too?”

AKAASHI’s a fan of thunderstorms. his daughter on the other hand, is not. so he’s made it a little game. they’re sitting together in a blanket fort, legs touching and hands on their lap.she fidgets slightly at the sight of the lightning, but starts to count out loud for the thunder. “one, two, three, four…” keiji joins and they watch each other carefully. at eight, the thunder rumbles the house and his daughter reaches over—not for a hug or comfort, but to try tickling her dad who does the same. she squeals as he reaches for her sides, and keiji laughs as she, maybe a little aggressively, tickles him back. when he picks her up to sit her on his lap, she yells, “no fair! that’s cheating!” between giggles and yelps. in mock indignation, keiji replies, “cheating? i would never do that.” yet stops anyway. his daughter jokingly huffs. “i’m gonna get you next time.”

SAKUSA’s eyes widen as his daughter runs up to him, only to hide behind his legs. instinctively, his hand moves to hold and comfort her as he scans the park for what could have scared her. it’s when two large dogs bark that he spots them playing with each other and the dots click. he turns to squat in front of his daughter, who looks at him with wide eyes and a pout that make his heart clench. “dad,” she says softly. “hm?” “do you think i could play with the dogs? they’re…big.” she sends a pointed look to other kids walking up to the owner and their pets. kiyoomi hums again and gently rubs her shoulder. “ it looks like they’re being nice with the other kids, right? why don’t we go together and ask?” his daughter nods and grabs his hand, and kiyoomi’s eyes crinkle as he smiles before walking over with her.

KITA’s son is adamant that his bed is the comfiest in the house. shinsuke’s happy to hear this, of course, even if he’d have to personally disagree. he’s about to rest in your own bedroom, when his son catches up to him in the hall. “do you wanna try my bed?” shinsuke blinks, processing the question. he laughs a little. “i don’t think i’d fit properly.” “we can both fit!” and before he can object, his son is pulling him into his bedroom and onto the bed that was definitely not made for the two of them to fit. but something tells him that he won’t get out of this easily, so he lets out a breathy laugh before crawling in, leaving space for his son to curl in with him. his back will probably hurt a little when he wakes up, but he pulls the blanket over the both of them anyway with a soft smile on his face.

ATSUMU rolls up his sleeves and pretends to crack his knuckles. “y’ready?” “yeah!” his son says with determination. the carnival game worker counts down, and they both get ready with their basketballs. the grand prize, the largest teddy bear, was locked behind a rigged basketball hoop, but the two of them refused to give up. and apparently atsumu’s mind is on another level right now, honed in as he succeeds with most of his tosses, and gets the last needed shot for that damned bear. “dad! you did it!” his son cheers and excitedly pulls on his arm. “ha! and who said i couldn’t play a sport other than volleyball?” “...no one?” “aw, come on,” atsumu whines, “work with me here!” the both of them are play-fighting when the worker manages to get the bear down and hand it to them. there’s huge grins on both of their faces as they shout a thanks. “can i put it in my room?” “and hide this success? it’s goin’ in the living room.” “you can do that?” “majority of the family says yes, we can do anythin’.”

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist

[dandelions-143]

Do It For Me

Final Part

Parts 1 - 3 here : Chans Masterlist

All other members : Masterlist

Pairing: possessive bad boy, non idol Chan x Bratty fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, Explicit sexual content, Strong language, Themes of possessiveness and control in relationships, Public sex

Word count: 2,396

A/N: This will be the last installment in Chans story. I wasn’t going to write another one but I felt like I needed a pretty happy entering without making it super fluffy because you all know that’s not my style. Currently working on a playlist for this series so stay tuned! Also if you have already read this just ignore!! Adding all saved tags to all of my works. If you wish to no longer be tagged just let me know.

You sank into Chan's plush leather sofa, your hands resting on your thighs and your bare feet crossed at the ankle. Your eyes narrowed slightly as you gazed across the room. Chan sat just a few feet away, his dark eyes fixed on you like a predator eyeing its prey.

It had been a couple of days since Chan had whisked you away from the bar to his family home. Initially, you resisted his every move. You ignored or scoffed at his gentle touches and sweet gestures of affection. The only thing you welcomed was the rough sex.

Gradually, however, you began to warm up to his tender side—a side that seemingly only you got to witness. You stopped flinching when he pulled you close for an embrace. You started reciprocating his quick, spontaneous kisses.

You no longer mocked his affectionate gestures when he offered to cook for you, give you a foot rub, or simply lay with you to read or watch a movie. Slowly, you began to anticipate these moments, and before you realized it, you were opening up to him in ways you'd never done with anyone before.

"Come on, it's just a date. We've been hooking up on and off for years. Let me take you out," Chan said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he looked at you. You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance, even as the prospect of a proper date with Chan made your pulse quicken. You didn't usually like feeling this way—you'd convinced yourself you weren't built for romance or relationships—but Chan was steadily dismantling the walls you'd built.

After much hesitation, you finally answered, "Fine, I'll go on one date with you, but you have to let me go back to Hyunjin's place to get ready properly. I'm tired of being cooped up in this mansion. I'm not your prisoner, Chan." His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching slightly. You could see the internal struggle playing out across his features. Finally, he exhaled deeply, his shoulders relaxing. "Alright," he conceded, "but I'm picking you up at 8, and if you're not ready or you try to slip away... I'll find you, and you won't leave my sight ever again."

Chan's possessiveness was overwhelming at this point, and it pained you to lack your own independence. Yet, you had no intentions of leaving him—you just didn't want him to know that. You nodded simply and stood up. "I should probably get going then. I need time to get ready." Chan licked his full lips and rose as well. "I'll have a car take you over."

Two hours later, you were gazing into Hyunjin's bathroom mirror, putting the finishing touches on your makeup. Your deep blue dress hugged your curves perfectly, accentuating your figure in all the right places. The neckline plunged just low enough to be alluring without being too revealing. You applied a final swipe of deep red lipstick, the color complementing the dress beautifully. As you stepped back to admire your reflection, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness for your date with Chan.

As soon as those feelings began to rise, you shook your head, pushing them away. "What the fuck... get ahold of yourself, Y/n." Just as you were walking out of Hyunjin's bedroom, his front door opened and in stepped a very tired-looking Hyunjin. "Wow, you actually do come home," you said as his eyes met yours. A soft smile spread over his lips. "I'm only here to grab some things. I'm going back to my other place."

You walked over to him, knowing how sad and lonely your best friend had been feeling since his breakup with his ex. Even though you agreed he had been a very bad boyfriend, you couldn't help but feel sympathy for him. He was close to your heart, and you didn't like seeing him suffer. You embraced him in a gentle hug. "Are you okay?" you asked as you squeezed him a little, then pulled back to peer up at him.

Hyunjin gave you a weak smile, his eyes reflecting a mix of exhaustion and gratitude. "I'm... managing," he replied softly, his voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the weight of his emotions in those two simple words. Before you could respond, the sound of a car horn outside caught your attention, reminding you of your impending date with Chan.

You nodded, "You know I'm still your best friend and I'm here for you. Even if you just want to complain, I'll listen." Hyunjin was the only one who got to see your softer side. "Yeah, I know, Y/n." Hyunjin glanced out of his big bay windows, seeing Chan emerge from his car and begin walking up the sidewalk. "Are you and Chan finally expressing your love for one another?" he asked, surprised as he finally took in your dressed-up appearance.

You sighed heavily and shrugged, "I'm just indulging him." Hyunjin laughed softly and shook his head at you. "You know... we all see it. You love the guy, and it's clear he's obsessed and in love with you. He has been for years." You started to turn away to grab your small handbag. "Hyunjin..." you began, not wanting to hear this.

"Y/n, take it from me, who took advantage of someone that loved me unconditionally... you don't want to give that up." He looked down, trying to hold back the tears stinging his eyes. "Once you damage that and they give up on you... there's no going back. Nothing's ever the same." There was a soft knock on the door. "Let the guy love you... you deserve that."

You swallowed hard, letting his words sink in as you turned to face the door. Your heart raced, a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursing through you. Hyunjin's words echoed in your mind, challenging your carefully constructed walls. As you reached for the doorknob, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the evening ahead.

When you swung open the door, Chan stood there in all black. His suit fit him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and trim waist. His dark hair was styled neatly, and his eyes sparkled with anticipation as they took in your appearance. A soft smile played on his lips as he extended his hand towards you, his voice low and warm as he said, "You look absolutely stunning, Y/n. Are you ready?" His question seemed to hold more than just the simple meaning.

You took a glance back at Hyunjin, who nodded encouragingly at you. You gave him a soft smile and turned back to Chan. "Yeah, I think I am." You took his hand and walked out of the apartment with him. As you stepped out into the cool evening air, Chan's hand warm in yours, you felt a flutter of nervousness in your chest. The city lights twinkled around you, casting a soft glow on the sidewalk. Chan led you towards his car, a sleek black vehicle that matched his attire perfectly, and you couldn't help but wonder what the night had in store for you both.

The restaurant Chan chose was an elegant Korean establishment with a modern twist. Soft lighting and minimalist decor created an intimate atmosphere, perfect for your first official date. As you and Chan were led to your table, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbled up inside you. The aroma of sizzling bulgogi and freshly steamed rice filled the air, making your mouth water.

You couldn't help but notice the place was completely empty, save for the staff. As you settled into your seat, you glanced at Chan, looking more than handsome in the dim lighting. "What did you do? Rent out the place?" you joked. Chan's lips curved into a mischievous smile, his eyes twinkling. "Maybe I did," he replied, his voice low and playful. A flutter in your chest surprised you at the thought of him going to such lengths for your date. You realized this evening might be more special than you'd initially anticipated.

The waiter arrived with Korean wine and asked if you were ready for your first course. You raised an eyebrow at Chan. "So you've had this all planned out?" Chan simply nodded to the waiter, who disappeared to fetch your meals, leaving your question unanswered.

As you sipped your wine, curiosity and appreciation for Chan's efforts washed over you. The intimate setting and carefully planned menu spoke of a thoughtfulness you weren't quite used to. You found yourself softening, your usual defenses lowering as you gazed at Chan across the table. His dark eyes met yours, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine what it might be like to truly let him in.

Chan leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his dark eyes intense. He took a deep breath before speaking, his voice low and earnest. "Y/n, I know you've been guarding your heart for so long. But I want you to know that I'm here, ready to love you completely. I've been waiting for years, hoping you'd let me in. I'm not asking for everything all at once, but I want you to give us a real chance. Let me show you how much you mean to me, how much I care." You leaned forward, parting your lips to speak, but Chan cut you off, "And please don't turn this into me acting like a pussy because I'm weak for loving you."

You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his words, feeling a mix of amusement and warmth spread through your chest. Chan's vulnerability, his willingness to lay his heart bare before you, was both touching and terrifying. You found yourself at a crossroads, torn between the safety of your carefully constructed walls and the allure of the love Chan was offering. As you gazed into his eyes, you realized that maybe, just maybe, it was time to take a leap of faith.

When you didn't say anything right away, Chan continued, his face hardening slightly as the possessive man you knew pushed through. "And regardless of whether you want to be here or be with me... you're still mine. You always have been. You can't escape me. I don't need you to love me, but... I do need you with me."

A mix of emotions washed over you at Chan's words—a blend of frustration at his possessiveness, but also a strange comfort in his unwavering devotion. You took a deep breath, trying to sort through the conflicting feelings. Part of you wanted to push back against his claim, assert your independence, but another part recognized the truth in his words—there was an undeniable connection between you two that had persisted for years.

You leaned back in your chair as the food arrived. Waiting for the waiter to leave, you began eating before answering Chan. You couldn't help but test his patience. While you enjoyed riling him up, you were also growing fond of his sweet, vulnerable side. "Y/n..." he said under his breath, a warning for you to respond.

You took another bite, savoring the flavors as you considered your words. Finally, you met Chan's intense gaze, your voice soft but firm. "Chan, I can't deny our connection. But love... it's complicated. I'm not promising anything, but I'm here, aren't I? Let's see where this goes."

Your nonchalant response caused Chan's steely glare to falter. He seemed taken aback, having endured years of your rejection. Your words made him question if he'd been wasting his time waiting for and chasing you. Chan's expression softened, a mix of surprise and hope flickering across his features. He reached across the table, his fingers gently brushing yours. "That's all I'm asking for, Y/n," he said softly, his voice filled with genuine emotion. "A chance to show you what we could be."

As the evening progressed, you found yourself relaxing more, genuinely enjoying Chan's company. The conversation flowed easily, punctuated by shared laughter and lingering glances. For the first time in years, you allowed yourself to imagine a future where you weren't constantly pushing Chan away. As dessert arrived—a decadent chocolate creation that made your eyes light up—you realized that maybe, just maybe, giving Chan a chance wouldn't be so bad after all.

As the night wore on, you noticed a heat in Chan's eyes as he watched you eat your dessert. "What are you thinking about?" you asked when you caught him staring at your lips as they moved around the spoon. A sly smirk painted his plump lips. "I'm imagining how that red lipstick would look smeared around my cock."

You felt a sudden heat rise to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and arousal coursing through your body. Chan's boldness never failed to catch you off guard, even after all this time. You leaned forward, your voice dropping to a husky whisper, "Maybe you'll get to find out later."

Chan shook his head. "There's no later... I want to see it now." Your eyes glanced around the room and then over to the now-quiet kitchen. "You mean here? Where people can see?" Chan's eyes darkened with desire, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "That's exactly what I mean," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "The thrill of getting caught only adds to the excitement, don't you think?"

You licked the remaining chocolate from your lips as Chan motioned for you to come closer. "Come here... I want you on your knees." Even though Chan had been confessing his love, the man knew what he wanted and always took it. You were his, and you would do as you were told... for the most part.

A thrill of excitement coursed through you at Chan's commanding tone. Without hesitation, you rose from your seat, the silk of your dress rustling softly as you moved around the table. Your heart raced as you approached Chan, fully aware of the risk of being caught but unable to resist the magnetic pull between you. As you sank to your knees before him, your eyes locked with his, silently acknowledging the power he held over you in that moment.

You could feel wetness nearly pooling in your panties as his warm hand caressed your cheek and slid over your jaw. His thumb swiped gently across your lips, smearing your deep red lipstick slightly. "So fucking beautiful," he breathed. Chan's eyes darkened with desire as he gazed down at you, his fingers trailing along your jawline. You shivered under his touch, anticipation building within you. Without a word, his hands moved to his belt, the soft clink of metal echoing in the quiet restaurant.

You had watched Chan do this many times, but after allowing him to tear down the walls you'd had up for years, it was as if you were seeing him with new eyes. The heat in the pit of your stomach intensified as you watched him slowly unzip his pants. Anticipation built with each passing second, your breath catching in your throat as you waited for him to reveal himself. You marveled at how different this felt—the same act, but with a new depth of emotion behind it.

Chan spread his thighs wider, the visible bulge in his pants drawing your gaze. You moved closer, your hands sliding up his muscular thighs. "Pull it out," he mumbled. You hesitated, hearing slight movement in the kitchen. "Eyes on me. I'm the only one here with you." He lifted your chin with a finger planted beneath your jaw.

Your eyes rose to meet his glare, filled not only with desire but with a softness you could only discern as love.

Your heart raced as you reached forward, your fingers gently brushing against the fabric of his pants before carefully freeing his hardened length. The sight of him, fully aroused and waiting for you, sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You licked your lips unconsciously, your gaze flickering between his intense eyes and his throbbing cock, ready to pleasure him in this thrilling, semi-public setting.

With a soft exhale, you leaned forward, your lips parting as you took him into your mouth. The taste of him, familiar yet somehow new, filled your senses as you began to move. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, savoring the feeling of him against your tongue, before opening again to meet his intense gaze.

Chan's fingers tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as you worked your mouth along his length. The low groan that escaped his lips sent a shiver down your spine, encouraging you to take him deeper. You could feel his thighs tensing beneath your hands, a clear sign of his growing pleasure.

As you continued your ministrations, you could feel Chan's control slipping. His grip on your hair tightened, his hips beginning to buck slightly against your mouth. The thrill of pleasuring him in such a public place only added to your own arousal, your core aching with need. You redoubled your efforts, determined to bring him to the edge of ecstasy.

Chan's breathing grew ragged, his muscles tensing as he approached his climax. You could feel him throbbing against your tongue, his grip on your hair tightening almost painfully. Just as you felt his cock tightening and twitching between your parted lips, he pulled you up. His chest heaved as he glanced down at his cock, covered in your saliva. Your lipstick smeared all around the base of his shaft.

"Not yet," he said gruffly as he stood, bringing you to your feet with him. "I want to feel you wrapped so tight around me."

Chan's hands roamed your body, his touch igniting a fire within you. He spun you around, pressing you against the table as his lips found your neck. You gasped, feeling the hard length of him against your backside, your body trembling with anticipation. The thrill of potentially being caught only heightened your arousal, making you ache for more.

His hands lifted the hem of your dress, exposing your panty-clad ass. He yanked them down, letting them fall to your ankles. Chan gripped your ass in his hands. "You drive me insane," he growled.

You moaned softly as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your behind, your body responding eagerly to his touch. The cool air of the restaurant against your exposed skin sent a shiver down your spine, heightening your arousal. Chan's breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, "I've waited so long for this moment, to have you fully surrender to me."

And you were fully surrendering. In that moment, he could have all of you—your body, your mind, your heart. You realized how much you wanted this, wanted him, wanted his love. Chan spun you around, pulling you over to push you against the wall.

His strong hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him as his lips crashed onto yours in a passionate kiss. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his desire for you evident in every touch. As he pressed you against the wall, his hips grinding against yours, you knew that this moment would change everything between you and Chan forever.

Chan's hands roamed your body, his touch both possessive and tender. You arched into him, your body responding to his every caress. As his lips found yours again, you surrendered completely to the passion between you. "Please... fuck me, Chan," you could barely speak as you tugged at his shirt, pulling it up to slide your hands against his heated skin, feeling the muscles in his back move beneath his smooth skin.

Chan's eyes locked with yours, dark with desire and something deeper—a vulnerability you'd never seen before. Without breaking eye contact, he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your core, the thin fabric of your dress the only barrier between you. "I'm going to make you mine," he growled, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine.

With a swift motion, Chan aligned himself with your entrance, teasing you with the tip of his length. You gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he slowly pushed inside, stretching and filling you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that made you cry out softly. Chan stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered, "You feel so perfect, so tight around me."

As he began to move, you clung to him, your bodies moving in perfect synchronization. The risk of being caught only heightened your pleasure, every thrust sending waves of ecstasy through your body. You bit your lip to stifle your moans, your nails digging into Chan's back as he drove deeper, his pace increasing with each passing moment.

The combination of pleasure and the thrill of potentially being caught was intoxicating. Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, the heat between you building to an unbearable intensity. You could feel yourself approaching the edge, your muscles tensing as Chan's thrusts became more urgent, driving you both towards an explosive climax.

As the tension built to a fever pitch, you felt yourself teetering on the brink of ecstasy. Chan's movements became more frantic, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove into you with renewed vigor. The world around you faded away, leaving only the sensation of your bodies intertwined and the impending release that threatened to consume you both.

Just as you were about to cum, you tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled his head up away from your neck. You wanted to watch him cum inside you, to see just how good you made him feel. Chan's eyes locked with yours, his pupils dilated with desire as he neared his climax. You watched in awe as his face contorted with pleasure, his mouth falling open in a silent moan. The intensity of his gaze, filled with raw passion and vulnerability, pushed you over the edge, and you felt your own orgasm crash over you in waves of ecstasy.

Chan held you close as you both came down from your shared high, your bodies still trembling with aftershocks. As your breathing steadied, he gently lowered you to your feet, his hands caressing your sides tenderly. You looked up at him, seeing a mix of satisfaction and adoration in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat.

"You don't have to say it back, but I love you." His Australian accent was even thicker as he came down from his high. You felt your heart racing, the words echoing in your mind. The intensity of the moment, the vulnerability in Chan's eyes, and the raw emotion in his voice overwhelmed you. Before you could second-guess yourself, you heard your own voice, barely above a whisper, "I love you too, Chan." The words felt right, natural, as if they had been waiting to be spoken all along.

Just as Chan's mouth fell open slightly at the words you had always refused to say to anyone, a crash of dishes came from behind him. You both looked over to see the waiter standing there with wide eyes and a mess of broken dishes on the floor.

Chan's face flushed a deep red, a mix of embarrassment and lingering desire evident in his expression. You couldn't help but stifle a giggle, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once. With a sheepish grin, Chan quickly adjusted his clothing and turned to address the stunned waiter, his voice a mix of authority and amusement as he said, "I believe we're ready for the check now."

Taglist:

@cashtonsbetch @katsukis1wife @hyunjinhoexxx @ihrtlino @breezy-simp @vixensss @yaorzu-blog @tirena1 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @chuuyaobsessed @doohnut @babigriin @iovecb97 @kpflyn @rylea08 @sheerfreesia007 @tsunderelino @cookiesandcreammy @rockstarkkami @moonchild9350 @syedazarintasnim @myflowercloud @143hyunes @luvyblossom @shecheatedwithme @antisocialties @akaligogrrr @thisaintredwine @rose-w-00-d @jisuperboard @velvetmoonlight @kayleefriedchicken @skzfelixlove

[remidiy]

We Don't Gatekeep Art Resources | A Comprehensive List

Here's a list of some of the tools/sites I currently use or have used previously for works/studies. I'll separate it into Software/Utility, Reference, and 'Other' which will be just general things that could help you map out things for your experience with art. **[Free highlighted in pink, paid highlighted in green. Blue is variable/both. Prices Listed in USD]**

Software/Utility:

2D

Krita Painting app (PC) (my main digital art software on PC for 5+ yrs)

Clip Studio Paint [PC] [CSP 2.0+ allows for 3d modelling within the painting app and a lot of other cool features] [apparently allows up to 6 months free trial]

Procreate (12.99) [iPad/iPad Pro] (the GOAT)

Artstudio Pro [iPad/iPad Pro] (An alternative to Procreate if you enjoy the more traditional art app layout) -- I find this app handy when Procreate is lacking a feature I need, or vice versa. (you can easily transfer files between the two, but keep in mind Procreate's layer limit)

2D "Collaborative Painting/Drawing apps"

Magma Studio

Drawpile

Discord Whiteboard

Gartic Phone (Pretty decent for 2d animation practice, but has a hard limit on frames)

3D

Blender [3D Modelling, Sculpting + Layout] (PC)

Sculptris [PC] (it's an old unsupported version of Zbrush, but can help to get ideas out, and functions better than browser sculpting apps

Nomad Sculpt [iPad/iPad Pro] ($20) Works pretty well if you prefer a mobile setup, but it is a bit intense on the battery life and takes some getting used to

References + Study

Magic Poser [ PC and Mobile ] Has both free and paid versions, I've made do with just the lite version before

Artpose ($9.99) [Iphone + Steam]

Head Model Studio [IPhone] A 3D head, with both a basic blockout version for angles, and a paid version with more detail

Cubebrush [simply search "[keyword] pose reference pack"], they usually have good results + they frequently have sales!

Line of Action [Good for Gesture practice + daily sketching], also has other resources built in.

Quickposes Similar to Line of action, more geared toward anatomy

Drawabox | Perspective Fundamentals Improvement modules (Suggested by @taffingspy )

Sketchfab, this skull in particular is useful, but there is other models that can help you study anatomy as well.

Pinterest can be good, you just have to be careful, usually you're better off just finding reference pack if you have the money, sometimes certain creators have freebies as well

Artstation Marketplace can be decent [make sure to turn on the Aye-Eye filter so it doesn't feed you trash], a colleague of mine recommended this head model for practicing facial blocking, there is also this free version without lighting.

Local Art Museums [Unironically good for studying old "master work" if you're into that, or even just getting some inspiration]

Brushes + Other Useful software:

I personally have used both of these brush packs before making my own

(I actually don't know how to share my daily brush set because I frequently switch between Krita, Procreate, and ASP, but once I figure that out I'll be sure to do that lol)

Marc Brunet's Starter brush pack [Technically free but supporting him for this if you like it is ideal, there's some good brushes]

Dave Greco Brush Pack [$3]

Gumroad in general is a good place to find brushes and art resources. *Note; for Krita specifically, brush packs are a bit weird, so it may require you to find different packs, or import them in a particular way

PureRef [PC] - Reference Compiler/Moodboarding

VizRef ($3.99) [iPad] - Moodboarding/Reference Compiler

Artist Youtubers/Creators that helped me improve/guide me along as a self-taught artist from when I first started digital art to where I am today:

Proko

Marco Bucci

Sinix Design

Sycra

Hardy Fowler

Lighting Mentor

Winged Canvas

Moderndayjames

Swatches

Chommang_drawing

Marc Brunet (YTartschool)

+ Observing a lot of speedpaint art by people whose work I enjoy on social media/youtube, trying to dissect their processes

If you've gotten this far, first of all, congrats, you can read a lot, and second of all, thank you for reading and I hope this helps! I'll continue to come back and update this if I find any new resources in the future, or if my processes change :)

Much Love,

-Remidiy

[david-talks-sw]

"Bring in the flamethrowers!"

The above moment from The Clone Wars gets brought up a lot to illustrate Ki-Adi Mundi or the Jedi's moral decadence, a fall from grace caused by the war.

Figured I'd point out a couple of things in support of Ki-Adi!

1) Simple answer: the situation called for it.

The Geonosians attacking Ki-Adi were:

enemy fighters

with the element of surprise

who could fly and were thus harder to hit with the clones' blasters, hence why more wide-ranging weapons like flamethrowers were called for, as the clones were getting picked off one-by-one.

Time was of the essence, men were dying, Ki-Adi made a choice.

Wanna know what Jedi choose when a Geonosian isn't actively trying to kill them? They save its life (and get praised for it by their peers).

2) In-universe, the Geonosians are assholes.

From Attack of the Clones - The Illustrated Companion, 2002:

"Geonosians are a physically intimidating race conditioned to live and work in caste-segregated hives. The vast majority of Geonosians are subservient to the ruling caste, and throughout Geonosian society, there is evidence of a biologically engineered class system. Some Geonosians have wings, while drones do not. [...] The blind obedience of menial Geonosians makes them an easily exploitable workforce for the upper classes, who have built a highly profitable business manufacturing Battle Droids, Super Battle Droids, and Droideka Droids for the Trade Federation and its allies."

"For unusually intelligent Geonosians unlucky enough to be born into the lower castes, participating in the games provides the only chance they will ever get to escape the misery of their downtrodden lifestyles and the rigid social expectations of the upper classes. Triumph in the arena is often a hollow victory, however; while lower- and middle-class Geonosians may win the right to talk to their superiors, they can never earn their respect."

Okay, so the winged upper class are obviously elitist bastards, but how is that even remotely relevant--

-- oh. But hey, two of them don't have wings! Those are members of the drone caste, and they're all begotten underdogs, so--

"If there is one thing that unites Geonosians of all classes, it is their xenophobia. A traditionally isolationist species, they fear espionage attempts by rivals eager to learn the secrets behind their latest droids."

-- oh. Huh.

Bottom line: yes, they're sentient... but they're xenophobic, have an elitist caste system, and earn their living by forging weapons that melt your insides or blow up planets.

Now sure, this notion has been explored and deconstructed in Star Wars: Rebels...

... and I'm not entirely sure if the quoted info still holds true in current Disney canon (the lore is from 2002, after all), but if you ask me?

On a normal day, ol' Klik-Klak would be actively trying to murder the entirety of the Ghost crew for daring to even step their dirty non-Geonosian feet on his pure red planet.

3) Out-of-universe, the Geonosians are just "bug aliens". Nothing more.

The production team of Attack of the Clones referred to them as the "termite people". The script describes them as "winged creatures" who are heard "chuckling" once Anakin and Padmé are sentenced to a gruesome death. At some point, the storyboard artists considered introducing the Geonosian workers like you would a horror monster.

Hell, the whole Lucas decided to base them on termites is because his house was besieged by them.

They're not people, which is why they're not designed to look like people. They're purposefully dehumanized so that when one of them gets killed by our heroes, it's ethically "okay" and the audience doesn't need to stop and think "oh my God, that's murder!" or "hey! that's racist" whenever a clone calls one of them a "bug."

A similar logic is applied to the stormtroopers, who have face-covering helmets that dehumanizes them.

Functionally, a stormtrooper is a fascist goon, nothing more.

Same goes for the Geonosian. It's a bug alien, that's about it.

4) The flamethrowers were probably just added because they're cool.

Dave Filoni described how the decision to add flamethrowers came up, and it doesn't sound like George had deeper storytelling motives:

"You know, we're going through the tunnel with the Geonosians and George is like: “Yeah, well, here, we'll have the-- the tunnel and the flamethrowers. Yeah. How about that? ‘Bring in the flamethrowers!’ have Ki-Adi Mundi say ‘bring in the flame throwers!’” And it's like “flame—- What? Flamethrowers?!”" - Dave Filoni, “Return to Geonosis” Featurette, 2010

It sounds like he came up with it on the spot.

The flamethrowers aren't indicative of "the moral degradation of Ki-Adi and the Jedi Order." They're likely just in there 'cause they're cool (and if you've played Team Fortress 2, you know that's true)!

At the end of the day, when it comes to the Geonosians, I think that there's a certain irony to how their story ends.

They gleefully created the battle droids that tore the galaxy asunder and the Death Star, a weapon that enables the Empire to commit genocide... but fell victim to genocide themselves, at the hands of an even bigger monster.

They reaped what they sowed. They're not meant to be mourned.

And it's nice to see this aspect of the narrative doesn't get ignored as much as I would've expected.

I came across this video that basically rips into Ki-Adi for using flamethrowers, and I was ready to roll my eyes when I scrolled down to the comments section...

... but then, a happy surprise!

Most of the comments disagree with the video's stance! For once, logic prevails over anti-Jedi bias.

So yeah, that put a smile on my face.

[yanderepuck]

Okay. Theory time. Again @lulu-the-smol-floof and I never shut up about this shit. Spoilers for jp will probably happen below fyi

So lulu and I are always trying to figure out the timeline.

So here is what we are working with

Current time period: 1897(give or take a year)

Leonardo born: 1452

Galileo born: 1564; 'died' 1642

Comte born: ???

Vlad born: ???

What we know with Vlad and Comte is that they knew each other as little kids, meaning they are roughly the same age. And that Comte knew Vlad when his parents were still alive. Judging by his child sprite I want to say Vlad was no older than 8 when his parents died.

I like to think that Comte and Vlad really aren't that old bc it sounds funny. However. I'm reading Comte's route and get to this

Vlad thinks it's possibly been a few millennia. Comte says a few centuries.

Now you're probably wondering what Galileo has to do with this. Well that's bc Vlad stole the door blueprints from him.

So yes. Vlad and Comte could have known each other for centuries, but they haven't been separated for centuries because they only separated after the door.

It's possible that Galileo didn't destroy all the blue prints to the door so Vlad somehow found them, that already puts us at about 1590ish if we say Galileo was in his 30s when he made them.

Then I HIGHLY doubt they were able to make this door super easily. They probably had to hand make parts for it, they couldn't just go to a shop or ask a carpenter/blacksmith to make all these random ass parts. Comte has the VERY FIRST door, which is why it's so faulty. Plus Comte has the mansion built so let's just say a rough 10 years because they are getting this door working, and I feel like that is generous.

We are now at 1600

Now at some point in this time period Comte even meets Leonardo in Italy bc it's implied that Comte meets Leonardo while he's famous among humans. But Leonardo goes MIA after painting The Last Supper which is 1599

Anyway. 1600. They have the door about made. They are still friends and seem to be using it here and there for shits and giggles.

Now Will is the first one brought back in roughly 1840s. Will has been around for a few decades before anyone else. But Vlad and Comte already went their separate ways, and have been for a while.

So at some point between 1600 and 1800 they went their separate ways.

Yes we can call this a few hundred years bc it's almost 1900 and that puts the door at three centuries old. But there's no way you can mistake that for a few thousand

These gays have really only been separated for 2 centuries MAX

HOWEVER. PLOT TWIST. It is implied that Vlad and Comte used the door so much that they are no longer in their original timeline. Yeah this is where it gets confusing with time travel so I'll keep it simple.

Galileo (and Drake) are also not from this time line. Just like the lessers they used the door to go forward in time. In this theory that means that Leonardo is the only one who has organically gone through life. He's never used the door. He's lived every year. Comte and Vlad have skipped some OR have gone back in time and stayed there for so long that they have lived more years than they should

Confusing? Say Comte was born in 1400. But then 1600 comes along, uses the door and goes back in time to 1300. He was still born in 1400(which hasn't happened yet) but he is 200 years old, and if he stays there (doesn't go back to 1600) he will be 300 when he is born.

So Comte COULD tell us the year he was born, but that really means nothing if he spent multiple years in other time lines.

The other confusing thing is that this means he's lived in Paris for like 3 centuries but no one has caught on to him not aging.

Well that was long. I hope that all made sense. Good luck with all that info

[anghraine]

I saw a popular author post about how, while of course Elizabeth has some obligatory flaws, Darcy's are exponentially more severe, and it was like stepping into a view so far removed from mine that it was almost disorienting.

The thing is, I periodically see people wondering why Elizabeth/Darcy is such a behemoth in Austen fandom when either/both of them have substantial flaws that the narrative doesn't shy away from. Their flaws aren't identical, but they do obviously mirror each other and are thematically intertwined, with reflecting character arcs and specific beats. As I see it, the novel maintains a tense and careful balance between them—not in terms of centrality (Elizabeth's mistakes and growth are more central to the narrative than Darcy's IMO) but in terms of the weight given their flaws and virtues.

And for me that's essential to their appeal!

I love plenty of other Austen characters and relationships, but for me, personally, none of the other canon pairings are balanced in such a fun and satisfying way. The closest (and the other most conventionally romantic pairing in Austen IMO) is probably Anne/Wentworth, where at least the choices of both of them are heavy contributors to their current problems. But a) the novel is ambivalent as to whether Anne actually erred morally in the first place and b) that is long in the past by the time of the novel; the Anne of the main story of Persuasion is a fairly idealized figure by contrast to Wentworth.

I sometimes see arguments that, say, Anne or Mr Knightley or Elinor Dashwood or whomever are actually as flawed and prone to error as their romantic counterparts, but I just ... don't buy it, honestly. As far as canon Austen goes, I only really see that balance in the course of the main story with Elizabeth/Darcy. P&P loves them and holds them up as admirable (and they are!), but it also loves undercutting them in clearly paralleling ways and does it over and over throughout the novel.

So the idea of an Elizabeth and Darcy where one of them has obligatory storytelling flaws that can't seriously be compared to the other's is just ... blah. It cuts out the fundamental interconnection and resonance between them that I think is built into the structure of the novel down to its bones and is what makes their relationship special. A lot of stories pay lip-service to that kind of dynamic, sure, but despite the many (many) imitators, I don't often see it done successfully. But P&P is the real deal.

So yeah, when people are like "why do people like Elizabeth with Darcy so much when she could have a different man who doesn't make serious mistakes" I'm just thinking ... why on earth would I want Elizabeth "there was truth in his looks" Bennet with someone who would never make mistakes on that level? Or when people are like, Darcy's just misunderstood, wouldn't he be better off with Jane [or another relatively idealized female character] it's like ... hell no, I love him, but I do not want to inflict him on that poor woman.

It's not that there's something wrong with multishipping them (I've written alternate pairings for both!) or shipping them with other people, but just in terms of the novel as it exists, I do think the balance and echoes between them are part of what makes the novel work and one of the sources of their long-standing popularity. And I feel that trying to pin the "real" blame on one or the other up-ends that balance and diminishes a lot of what I, at least, find appealing about the dynamic between them.

[enchanted-by-the-reaper]

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ your sweet 666 ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

sfw(ish) | soft raphael | fluff | enemies to lovers

raphael x gn tav!

notes: this is just me yapping while I try to figure out my thoughts on this idea, currently deciding whether to flesh this out into a full nsfw fic or not, we’ll see <3

☽༺𖤐༻☾ ☽༺𖤐༻☾ ☽༺𖤐༻☾ ☽༺𖤐༻☾ ☽༺𖤐༻☾

♱ Scanning the infernal contract laid out before him, Raphael couldn’t help but smirk as he read over the soul binding terms and conditions he meticulously constructed to ensure this new client of his couldn’t squirm their way out of it. Satisfied with his work, he turned his attention to Tav, their body draped across the chaise in a peaceful slumber. As he looked at them longingly, he began reminiscing on a time where his partner was one of the pawns in his game. A desperate vagabond adventurer with a most unwelcome visitor in their brain, Raphael knew he had struck gold. ‘Impetuous fools’ he had called them in conversation with Korilla, but when he first met the party of soon to be mindflayers, he was enraptured by their leader.

Tav hated Raphael’s pompous and snide disposition, hated his stupid rhymes and pretty little words of nothing, hated how much he loved himself. Their alliance was purely built on mutual need, a means to an end. And yet when Raphael proposed a deal to obtain the crown of Karsus in exchange for his infernal weaponry, Tav couldn’t bring themselves to say no. They saw reflected in his eyes the same longing they felt, longing for something, someone. And as Tav signed the contract, they shared a look of understanding.

His stubborn pride would never let him admit that when Tav threatened to tear that contract of theirs in two during a heated argument, the thought of not obtaining the crown of Karsus didn’t even enter his mind. His only concern was losing whatever connection he had with them. Raphael was never one to grow fond of his clients, he always thought they were beneath him. Sure, he knew how to play into their desires, exploit their weaknesses, make them play along with his games until they begged on their knees for his mercy when they failed to deliver. But none of his clients made him feel the way Tav did. He came to admire their stubborn bravery and fierce attitude, even with that death sentence of a tadpole squirming around in their skull. None of his other clients would ever have the guts to challenge a devil. But Tav did. And it sparked something deep within him.

Raphael always believed he was dealing the upper hand, until every time he spent a night writhing under Haarlep all he could think about was them. How their touch would feel, the ecstasy they would share. He would always end the night calling their name out in a deep, breathy moan, a flush of red spreading to his cheeks in shame. He chastised himself for days afterwards. How could he be so foolish as to let a mere mortal infiltrate his mind and his heart? The devil himself, sin incarnate, was feeling giddy over some rogue adventurer.

When Tav delivered the Crown into his hands after Raphael had amended their contract a little too much for his liking, he should have been elated. Raphael got what he wanted, Tav got what they wanted, the deal had been fulfilled. But instead he still felt just as hollow as he had before they met. With no contract looming over their head, Tav could just walk away and the two would never cross paths ever again. Whilst they would never admit it, Tav only began offering their services to Raphael purely because they couldn’t bear not to see him, be near him, and their alliance over time grew into something more deep, more personal, more passionate.

Their relationship had begun as tumultuous. In all his centuries of living Raphael had never known how to love or be loved, and Tav struggled to let him get close to their heart. But over time they grew to be a formidable couple. The power plays, the fight for domination, the never ending game of cat and mouse, Raphael felt that he had finally found his equal. One that could match him, challenge him.

His nights of unfeeling and rough sex with Haarlep were replaced with long evenings of tender passion and warmth with Tav. Raphael couldn’t even remember the last time someone held him. And he cherished it. He showered Tav in love and affection, giving into every request, for he wanted, needed them to know that he was theirs, afraid that if he didn’t display his affection enough, Tav would leave, and he would once again be alone. But he pushed that fear aside, reminding himself he was loved, Tav was safe, and they were happy.

As he continued to gaze upon his little mouse, his chest swelled with pride and admiration. In the Hells, he had found his little piece of heaven. ♱

To be continued…

you can also read it here <3 <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works

[daisynik7]

hey Nikki! :) I love your kishibe fics I'm OBSESSED!! if you're still taking requests, could I request something spicy w dad's best friend! kishibe X reader? hope you are doing well, sending all my love ❤️

cw: age gap (reader is younger, I’d say mid-20s, early 30s, Kishibe is late 40s, early 50s), reader has a dad that is newly single (parents divorced), smut – dirty talk, PIV sex (cowgirl), cunnilingus, sex without a condom

Author’s Note: Hi my sweet, lovely anon! Thanks so much for reading my Kishibe fics and for requesting this DELICIOUS idea! I hope you are doing well too, sending you all my love right back! Wanted to get this out today because where I’m at, it’s Father’s Day and I thought this request was VERY fitting for the occasion. Sorry if there are any mistakes or typos, I wrote this in a rush because I’m so excited to post it, hehe. Enjoy! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

“Happy Father’s Day!” 

You greet your father at the door, backpack heavy on your shoulders, balancing two boxes of pizza in one hand and carrying a case of beers in the other. It’s the most stereotypical dad meal you could have thought of, and lucky for you, it’s exactly what your father wants. 

He smiles, holding out his arms to wrap you in a big hug. “Hi, honey. Thanks for coming.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, dad,” you respond, grinning. 

It’s his first Father’s Day since the divorce. Your dad moved out two hours away from your hometown where you currently live, near your mother. While it was mostly amicable, it still hasn’t been easy for either of them. You’ve done your best to spend time with them equally, but with him living farther away, it hasn’t always been fair on his end. So, you packed a bag full of extra clothes and your work laptop, deciding to stay over at his place to keep him company. Surely, he’s been lonely, right?

Well, apparently not. On your way, he called to inform you last minute that his so-called “best friend”, Kishibe, will be joining you for dinner tonight. That’s why you had to order two pizzas instead of one, as well as a case of twelve beers instead of six. Because supposedly, Kishibe is a heavy drinker. You’ve never heard of this man before. It was bound to happen though; your parents used to be best friends with each other, and now that they’ve split, they need to make new friends. Still, you’re uncertain if this Kishibe guy is a good influence on your precious father. Tonight will be the test. 

Before he lets you go, he whispers, “Kishibe’s already here, so I’ll introduce you.”

“How did you even meet this guy?” you ask in a hushed voice.

“At a bar,” he answers, nonchalant, leading you into the kitchen. His answer already has you suspicious of this fellow. 

Inside, you spot a well-built man sitting at the dining table, dressed in a white dress shirt and black tie. Immediately, you notice the piercings on his ears, then the prominent scar across his cheek. His appearance is striking, but you don’t let your guard down, inspecting him carefully as you set the food on the table.

“Honey, this is my friend, Kishibe. Kishibe, this is my daughter.” He says your name, waving his hands between you and this stranger. 

Kishibe stands up, his stature impressive compared to yours, and holds his hand out, repeating your name in a gruff voice. “Nice to meet you.”

You swallow hard, surprised by his low, and honestly sexy, voice. Shaking his hand firmly, you reply, “Likewise,” trying to play it cool. 

His fingers are rough against your soft skin. He holds you a second longer than necessary, letting go only when your dad clears his throat, announcing, “Well, dinner is served! Dig in, big guy.” Your dad pats Kishibe’s back happily, handing him a paper plate and a bottle. 

You mentally shake away any inappropriate thoughts you’re having about this man, who is still a mysterious stranger that your dad is clearly smitten with, enough to consider him his best friend. You make it your mission tonight to figure him out, see if he has any ulterior motives. 

With slices on each of your plates and beers in your hands, you start the interrogation. “So, Kishibe. How did you and my dad meet?”

He shrugs, tipping the bottle into his mouth before responding, “At a bar.”

You pause, waiting for a further explanation. When none comes, you ask, “Care to elaborate?”

Your dad chuckles. “Well, I noticed him playing pool by himself, so I asked if I could join him, and he said yes.”

“He’s terrible at it, by the way,” Kishibe adds, grinning while he nudges your father in the elbow.

“I never said I was good! Anyways, we started seeing more of each other and decided to be drinking buddies. Ever since your mom and I split up, it’s been hard for me to make friends. So, I’m actually glad I met this guy. It’s not so lonely anymore.” Your dad gives you a shy smile, patting Kishibe on the back again, who nods in acknowledgment. 

Okay, you have to admit this is endearing. Your father seems happy to have this new companion in his life. How bad can he be? Maybe your resolve is weakening just a tad.

A little more relaxed now, you share some memorable childhood stories about your father, including the time he lost you in the grocery story because he was too enthralled by the free samples. “He cared more about getting cheese than he did about his own daughter,” you joke, tossing a bottle cap at him.

“Princess! You gotta give me more credit than that! I was trying to get you some cheese too!”

At the pet name, Kishibe smirks at you. “Princess, huh?”

Before you can say anything, your dad blurts out, “She hates it when I call her that! But she really is my little princess!” He grabs your head to give you a wet smooch on the cheek, probably tipsy now. He’s always been such a lightweight.

You roll your eyes, grinning. “Dad, I’m too old now to be your little princess.”

He pouts at you. “Fine. I’ll try to stop. I hope you know you’re breaking this old man’s heart, though.”

Kishibe listens to the two of you with intrigue, chuckling along as he sips on his beer. Despite his seemingly stoic appearance, he’s actually easy to talk to. You feel almost guilty for judging him so quickly.

With most of the pizza eaten and half the case of alcohol consumed, Kishibe stands up, reaching for his jacket. “I should head home now. It’s getting late.”

“Nonsense! Stay the night! I’ve got extra clothes you can borrow. You can sleep on the couch,” your father suggests.

He doesn’t respond right away, averting his gaze to you when he eventually asks, “Are you sure that’s okay?” 

Your dad faces you. “Honey, that’s okay with you, right?”

Usually, you don’t like being put on the spot like this. But you genuinely don’t mind it, so you answer, “That’s fine with me.” 

Both men smile at you, your dad grinning extremely wide. “It’s a sleepover! Should we build a fort?” You and Kishibe laugh, tossing more bottle caps at him. 

The three of your spend the next hour cleaning up the kitchen and chatting a while longer. By the time it’s almost midnight, your dad disappears into his room to gather sheets and pillows for Kishibe. The two of you stand alone in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. 

You look at him, smiling. “Thank you for being so nice to my dad. He seems a lot happier now.”

He meets your gaze. “I like hanging out with him. He’s a good guy.”

Without taking your eyes off him, you say, “You’re a good guy, too.”

Smirking, he scoots closer to you, elbows brushing. “How do you know?”

You shrug, leaning towards him, arms touching now. “I can just tell.”

He bows his head, lips inches from your ear, whispering, “I’m actually insane. You should be careful with me.”

Before you can react, your dad’s voice rings from the other room. “Kishibe! I’ve got you set up in here!”

You watch as he leaves quickly without another word, your heart pounding in your chest. Not from fear, but excitement.

~~~

In the guest room, you lay in bed in your pajamas, staring up at the ceiling. It’s past 1 AM now, whatever buzz from the alcohol completely gone. You can hear the faint snores of your father from down the hall, listening for any hint of Kishibe in the living room right outside your door. His sinister words to you in the kitchen replay in your head. You should be careful with me. You know it was meant to scare you off. But something about him has you hooked. You’re even more fascinated by him.

You turn the small lamp on beside your bed, then sneak out of your room, light on your feet as you maneuver your way in the pitch black towards the couch. 

“Can’t sleep?” Kishibe’s voice is soft in the darkness. You squint your eyes enough to make out his brawny silhouette spread on the couch. 

“I wanted to check on you. I know my dad’s couch is pretty shitty,” you reply, stepping closer to him.

He peers at you, sitting up slowly. “So you knew about this and didn’t give me a warning?”

“You seem like a big, strong man, so I thought you could handle it.”

“Well, I don’t have any other choice but to endure it, right?” His arms are crossed over his chest, studying you.

“You can always try the guest bedroom.”

“But you’re staying in there.” His voice is heavy now, tongue dense in his mouth, like he’s salivating.

You bite your lip, pussy throbbing against your panties. “There’s room for the two of us.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He gets up from the bed, towering over you. “Lead the way.”

You grab his hand, tugging him towards your bedroom, shutting the door quietly, ensuring it’s locked. Facing him, you grasp at his shirt, pulling him down for a kiss. His lips are smooth on yours, moving gracefully, his hands sliding under the hem of your shirt and around your waist, fingers pulsing hot on your bare skin. His tongue glides into your mouth, swirling around yours, grazing against your teeth. He moans, thumbs slipping down to the waistband of your boxer shorts, hooking onto the elastic. “Are you sure you want this?” he asks, lips at your neck now, scattering kisses along your skin. 

You nod, running your fingers through his hair. “Yes. I want it so bad.”

“Fuck,” he swears, walking with you towards the bed. “I want to eat you out. Will you let me?”

You giggle, crawling onto the bed, face-up, spreading your legs apart. “Be my guest.”

He curses again under his breath, stripping your shorts and underwear off in one fell swoop, positioning his head between your thighs. His lips wrap around you, tongue flicking relentlessly at your clit. You cover your mouth with a pillow, moaning into it, fist bunched in his hair. It’s sloppy and wet, his spit blending in with your arousal, pussy completely soaked. You come for him, his nose pressed to your bud as his tongue laps at your leaking slit, collecting your orgasm in his mouth, swallowing every drop. When he’s done, he stands up to strip off his clothes, you following with whatever remains on you. Completely naked now, he lays beside you on the bed, kissing you with glossy lips. “Get on top,” he demands. “Taste yourself on me while I fuck you.”

Obeying, you straddle his lap, sliding his hard cock up and down your pussy before sinking down on him all the way. You lick at his lips while he thrusts up into you, hands gripped firmly at your hips. “Fuck, Kishibe. Right there. Oh fuck, right there,” you purr, riding him. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it princess? Feels good when I fuck you like this, huh?”

Hearing him call you that spurs you on, bouncing faster in his lap, unable to contain your moans while he fucks you rougher. “You better be quiet. You don’t want daddy to wake up and find his precious princess getting fucked by his best friend, would you?” The filth he spits into your ear has you unraveling. It’s so fucking nasty, so fucking wrong. But you don’t care. All you can think about is how fucking good it feels, being fucked into a frenzy by him. 

“Fuck, you’re tight. You’ve never had a cock this big, have you?” he growls, grinding your ass against his thighs.

“Never,” you whimper, tongue hanging out of your mouth in a fucked-out daze.

“You’re swallowing me up whole. Squeezing me so fucking hard. Fuck.” He pauses to catch his breath. 

You take control, throwing your ass back, his cock slipping in and out of you easily. Voice trembling with arousal, you tease, “Never had a pussy this tight before, have you?”

He chuckles. “You’re a bad girl. No wonder your daddy’s always worried about you.”

“You two talk about me?”

“Oh, I know all about you, princess. Been wanting to meet you for a while now. This pussy is even better than I imagined.”

You reach your fingers for your clit, close to your second orgasm. “Yeah? You’ve been fantasizing about this?”

He moans, watching you touch yourself. “You have no idea.”

For some reason, it turns you on even more, knowing he’s thought about you before this. Probably stroked his cock, picturing himself fucking his best friend’s daughter. That nasty fuck. You fucking love it. Within minutes, you’re coming together, his cum spilling from inside you as you ride out your orgasm on his cock, coating it in your creamy mess.

The two of you stay like this for a while, Kishibe cradling you in his arms, you relaxing in his gentle hold. He breaks the silence first, saying, “Your dad’s gonna kill me if he finds out about this.”

You laugh, nuzzling your nose into his chest. “Well, I guess it’ll be our little secret then.”

[iraprince]

Absolutely love the Infodump on Cookie she's so good. however!! I remember you made a trio of characters for this game and were torn about which one to play, then decided the other two could be his attendants.

How are those two, what are they up to?? Have you done much with them in the game so far? (And even if not, wanna give us some tastey information about 'em?)

💜

oooh yes! those two are sir velvet the unsmiling (it/she), and damned-if-i-do/dandy (he/they). let's pull up their art (esp now that i have crispy clean new scans!!! i think i have only ever posted this art as shitty phone pics prior to this)

ANYWAY. it turns out that even though attendants are a built-in part of the noble sweetheart playbook (cookie's title) and you're SUPPOSED to be using them... for me in practice, when i'm actually playing the game, i just keep totally forgetting lmfao!!!! :') rping with my other party members and chasing quests and stuff is so engaging that my brain is totally booked with just being cookie, let alone two additional npcs, so sadly dandy and velvet have not gotten a ton of screentime in the current campaign

BUT that really just makes me eager to one day play them properly in a different campaign, whether that's them each taking their turn as player characters like was originally intended, or when i'm GMing a campaign of my own (i'm trying to write up something for my friends, but i have no idea when it's actually gonna happen bc i'm so busy rip... but when i do, cookie and her attendants will def be npcs)

i honestly don't have MUCH i can say abt them, bc since i haven't played them much i also havent developed them much... i suppose i can give summaries tho!

in terms of vibes velvet is very much like, "guy who is brooding so hard that it stops being mysterious or having any gravity at all and is mostly just making people wonder if she's like? okay?????" like there is only so long you can spend with your back to the rest of the group clenching your fist and muttering to yourself before people just start kind of glossing over it and being like "oh haha that's CLASSIC sir velvet the unsmiling!!!"... mix this with a heady dose of "[nasal voice] UM, you forgot to collect the homework" and somehow you have created a creature ideal for wrangling cookie's effusive elaborate scatterbrained whims, somehow, most of the time. velvet is really similar to a different Brooding Goth Knight character i have wherein my formula is "make a character who looks extremely fucking sicknasty badass, then never ever ever stop making fun of them ever"

dandy is cookie's quartermaster, and so unlike velvet (who's usually assumed to be traveling around with cookie, even if i am constantly forgetting to roleplay that it's doing that) he mostly chills at chateau gorgeous looking after his liege's affairs and making sure the ppl who live there are fed + sheltered + generally taken care of. they are pretty much velvet's exact opposite in terms of temperament; EVERYTHING gets velvet's hackles up, NOTHING phases dandy. i need to be careful bc i am starting to arbitrarily ship them just from typing this. anyway, dandy is largely non-verbal; they're able to speak if really necessary, but they would just rather not, and if there's really no way around it they'd rather just sidle over to cookie and whisper it to her, and then let her communicate whatever they want to say to the rest of the group on their behalf; if cookie's not around, you're just gonna have to figure out how to communicate w him otherwise. which always works out fine bc dandy is very patient and used to getting along in silence!

that's about all i've got rn... i will def post it here if i come up with or draw anything else that's fun tho :) ty for the ask!

[guilty-pleasures21]

The thief & the detective

Wow! I actually finished a Miguel fic for once! 😱

Part 1a

Part 1b

Part 2

Warnings: brief description of fingering (f receiving), mentions of pregnancy and labour.

----------------------------------------------------------

Miguel sat on his sofa, his glasses slipping down his nose as he went over the latest pieces of evidence he'd collected for his current investigation. He'd retired from the public service a while back and instead dragged Peter along with him to open up their own private investigation agency. It had been a bit of a struggle in the beginning, having to start everything from scratch, but at least the reputation Miguel had built for himself had quickly garnered them a steady stream of clients. And the occasional consultancy services his old colleagues would ask of him hadn't hurt his work either. But the best part of his new job was being able to make his own decisions - to choose which cases he wanted to take on and how he wanted to proceed with the investigation. Miguel didn't look up as he heard his window open and shut, choosing instead to keep his head down as a familiar figure snuck into his apartment and settled onto the sofa beside him.

“You have a key," he grumbled.

“But it's so much more fun this way!” Miguel finally looked up so he could shoot X an exasperated look over his glasses.

“What did you steal this time?” He sighed as he returned his attention to his notes and X bit her lip, her nerves buzzing in anticipation of his response.

“Nothing!” she insisted, not bothering to take offence at his statement. He was going to lose his mind when he found out! She cleared her throat and shifted in her seat, trying to tamp down her excitement. “You’ll be happy to know that I won’t be taking something this time, but giving it. To you!”

“What? What are you going to give me?” Miguel asked, sifting through his notes.

“You’ll find out,” X replied, not wanting to give the surprise away so quickly. Miguel glanced up again to flash her a little frown.

“Gatita,” he warned her, the tone of his voice causing a shiver to run down her spine. X giggled, practically vibrating with glee beside him now.

“Don’t worry, Miguel!” she reassured him. “It’s only gonna take about … nine months? Well, seven now.”

Miguel froze at that, his heart stopping in his chest as he digested her words. Nine months? She couldn’t possibly be saying what he thought she was saying. Could she? He whipped off his glasses and tossed them onto the coffee table. “X.”

She nodded vigorously in agreement.

“Yes! Whatever you’re thinking, yes! That exactly,” she affirmed. Then she hunched over to rest her chin on her fists as she awaited his response, her eyes wide like a cute little kitten.

Miguel dropped his gaze to her stomach, his jaw falling open as he did so. He reached a hand out slowly and brushed his fingers lightly along her abdomen. And then the interrogation started.

“When?” he questioned her. “How long? How do you know? You went to the doctor? What did they say?” He paused to lift his gaze to hers and brushed her hair behind her ear before he let his hand slide down to her cheek to cup her face.

“Are you all right?” he continued. “You’re healthy? The baby’s okay?” His eyes suddenly widened in alarm and he shot to his feet in front of her.

“Do you need anything? I can …” He patted his pockets, then turned to the table to search for his keys among the mess of papers and photographs scattered across his coffee table. “I can go get you some food or something? Are you craving anything?”

X hopped up beside him, her lips stretched wide in an elated smile. He was so cute when he was worrying about her, his wavy hair falling into his coppery eyes. He was so sweet and attentive, always so gentle with her: he was going to be such an amazing father, she just knew it. She cupped his face in her hands, bringing his attention back to her.

“Miguel. I'm okay,” she reassured him firmly. She brushed her thumbs along his cheeks and admired his handsome features. Would their baby have his eyes? His nose? His beautifully crafted cheekbones and jawline? She couldn’t wait to find out! “I went to the doctor earlier today and she said it’s been about two months already. The baby is fine, I’m fine, but we still have to wait at least another month or so to be sure. I haven’t had any … unpleasant side effects so far, but … there is one thing I have been craving.”

Her eyes flickered up to his, a mischievous glint in them as she waited for his response.

She was having their baby. Their baby! Would it have her eyes? Her smile? Her messy curls that framed her face so perfectly in the morning light? He swallowed hard at the thought, his stomach fluttering with nerves. “What? What do you need?”

X slid her hands down to his shoulders, that naughty smile still stretched across her face. She let her eyes trail over his body appreciatively, taking in his broad shoulders and his strapping chest and his brawny arms. Then she looked up at him again. “You.”

Miguel sighed, but his lips twitched at the ends even as he rolled his eyes at her. He wrapped her up in his arms, pulling her tiny form against his chest and holding her close. “Gatita.”

X bounced against him happily, squeezing him tight. “Aren’t you excited, Miguel?! We’re gonna have a baby! Now you’re really stuck with me forever!”

Miguel sighed again and rubbed her back gently, his chest warming at the thought. Then he pulled back to look at her.

“But no more climbing through windows, gatita. You …” He sat them back down on the sofa, his grip on her gentle and supportive. Then he brushed her hair away from her face, his expression softening as he gazed at her, the headstrong and unyielding mother of his child. “When’s your next appointment?”

X slung her legs over his, shuffling closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder.

“Next Tuesday. And I’ve already warned the doctor all about you!” She grinned as she admired her handsome detective, the strong and smart father of her child. “She was all like ‘no, it’s fine. I’m used to anxious fathers’ and I was like ‘no, doctor, you don’t understand. My partner is a detective - he is professionally trained in interrogation techniques!'"

Miguel smiled at the word ‘partner’ - at how proud she sounded when she said it. Then he noticed her getting a little hesitant.

“But, Miguel …” she began carefully. “You know I … I won’t be able to fit into … many clothes anymore, in a few months’ time. Just in case we … In case I needed to get a special outfit or something. You know, for some sort of special event? Maybe?”

He shot her a knowing smirk when he saw the hopeful expression on her face: a wedding, that was what she was asking him for. “You’re going to have to wait until tomorrow for that, gatita. I asked Peter to keep it at his place for me.”

“What?!” X screeched in outrage, yowling like a little cat. “Why?!”

Miguel chuckled softly. “You may be good at stealing things, gatita, but you’ve never been so good at covering your tracks. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve had to clean up the place, what with the way you keep ransacking it!”

X folded her arms across her chest and glared up at him, annoyed. “Well, if you were already going to do it, then why’d you wait so long?!”

Miguel grinned and leaned forward, taking hold of her chin as he did so. “Because. I knew it would drive you crazy.”

X scoffed, offended, and wrenched her face out of his grip. “You want me to go crazy?! While I’m carrying your baby right now?!”

His heart leaped at her words: his baby. His gatita, round and full with his little baby - their little baby. When would she start showing, he wondered. Would she waddle around, little belly sticking out as she grew their child inside of her? Dios, that would be cute. Irresistibly so. He shrugged. “Maybe if you’d told me earlier …”

“I didn’t know either, Miguel!” she argued, her hair falling back into her eyes as she huffed at him. “I told you: I only found out this morning!”

Miguel shuffled closer to her, closing the distance she'd created between them and curling one hand around her waist. “But you must have guessed, right? You wouldn’t have gone to the doctor otherwise.”

He snuck his fingers beneath the hem of her shirt and brushed them along her side, teasing her. X frowned and turned her head away from him, trying to resist his advances. But it was a task that was near impossible given how so very attracted she was to him; given how so very much she loved him.

Miguel grinned as he noticed her rapidly weakening resolve, then he bent over to kiss her cheek and seal the deal. X's lips twitched at the ends and he lifted her up onto his lap, her legs slung over his, her head resting in the crook of his neck. He stroked her side as they sat there, his warm fingers brushing against her skin. Then he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Are you okay though?” he asked her softly. “Is there anything you're worried about?”

X bit her lip, all her fears suddenly rushing up and overwhelming her.

“Well, there is the obvious: the whole ‘pushing an entire grapefruit out of your vagina’ thing. But you can get an epidural for that; you just have to make sure you get it on time.” She worried at her lip again, then groaned and flopped over onto his chest. “Ugh! Can I just ask them to cut it out of me? That sounds less terrifying at this point.”

Miguel squeezed her against him and pressed his lips into her hair again.

“I'll make sure you get it on time, querida,” he assured her, his voice gentle but firm. “And it won't last forever; the pain will go away eventually. And I'll be right there beside you the entire time. You're not going to get away from me this time, gatita.” Not when she was carrying his child, his baby, the perfect little combination of himself and the woman he loved. X gave a snort of amusement.

“I don't think I could even if I tried. I don't want to, anyway.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest, clutching him tightly. “I just want you. Always. Mi Miguelito.”

Miguel rubbed her back gently. “Is there anything else you're worried about?”

X tightened her grip on him, her stomach roiling as she thought about it. Then she released her hold on him and sunk against his chest.

“I’m scared …” She fidgeted with her fingers as she tried to figure out how to phrase it. Eventually, she just blurted it out. “I don't want to run away!”

Her gaze flickered up to his, noting the confused expression on his face, and she pressed on. “If things get bad, if I don't like it, like … Like if I have a fight with our kid or if they won't sleep or if they're just … being stubborn as hell! I don't … I've always run away, Miguel. Even from you.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide with meaning. “Even when I love you more than anyone else in the entire world.”

He was all she had, her detective, her Miguelito; the only one who had ever been there for her, who had ever believed that she could be anything more than just an untrustworthy thief.

“But … I want to be there for my child,” she finished softly. “I want to be a good mum.”

The fact that she was so worried about it was reassurance enough for him that she'd be a great mother. And she'd done so well already, turning her life around after he'd agreed to properly pursuing a relationship with her. She'd left her life of crime behind - mostly; she still liked to practise the occasional pickpocketing here and there, always returning whatever she'd snatched when he gave her that unamused look. Now she worked as a consultant for numerous security companies, helping them test out the robustness of their various systems. She'd even picked up coding recently, learning it from some of the guys at one of the places she worked at. He'd keep an eye on her as she practised on his laptop, always having to swoop in whenever she got frustrated and threatened to smash the damn thing. But she'd soon saved up enough to buy herself her very own one, the sleek red device sitting prettily on his desk, right next to his trusty old black one. She'd never given up, no matter how many times life had tried to put her down. So he had faith that this was something she wouldn't give up on either.

“But you've always come back,” he pointed out to her. She furrowed her brows, confused by his response. Miguel placed his hands on her waist and lifted her up slightly, adjusting their positions so she was sitting on his lap, one leg on either side of his. Then he ran his fingers through her hair, pushing it away from her face.

“You've run away, sure, but you've always come back. Especially when it’s important to you. And this? This sounds really important. So maybe take a break if you feel like you need to, but you know you'll always have me, right?” He squeezed her thighs lightly, reassuring her with his touch. Then he continued.

“We're in this together, gatita. You're not alone anymore. You'll never be.” He poked her stomach softly, grinning at the thought of his little baby all curled up inside her mother's stomach. “You've got me and our little gatita to deal with if you ever try to run away.”

X narrowed her eyes at him, her fingers still curled around his shoulders.

“Don't you mean our gatito?” she corrected him. Miguel fixed her with an incredulous look.

“What?” he asked her, his lips twitching with amusement at her response. “Why would I call her that?”

“Because it's a ‘him’?!” X retorted quickly. Miguel pressed his lips together, doing his best to not laugh at how frustrated she was getting with him.

“Estás loca, mi gatita,” he informed her lazily. “It's clearly a girl. One as stubborn and irritatingly smart as you.”

“You don't know what you're talking about, Miguel!” X scoffed. “It's obviously a boy! I can feel it! And he's going to be just as righteous and annoyingly handsome as you!”

Miguel shot her an exasperated look, his lips curling at the ends now. “Please. I'm the one who put her there, gatita, I think I know what gender our baby is going to be.”

X frowned hard, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she practically seethed at him now.

“What the hell?!” she exclaimed in outrage. “Are you insane?! I'm the one carrying it, Miguel! It's a boy! I know it!”

She pushed herself off of him, wrinkling her nose in irritation and muttering under her breath as she began making her way over to the window. “You know what? Just to make sure it's a boy, I'm gonna go do all those weird superstitious stuff that old wives always tell you to do: have sex at ninety degrees to the sunrise and eat a lemon whole or whatever.”

Miguel jumped out of his seat and ran after her, grabbing her wrists to stop her. “X! I said no more windows!”

X let out another huff before turning to glare up at him, pulling her arm out of his grasp so she could fold them across her chest. Miguel bit the inside of his cheek, trying to stop the smile that threatened to overtake his features at how cute she looked when she was mad at him.

“And where are you going anyway?” he continued, keeping his voice raised as if he was still annoyed with her. “You're only going to have sex here. With me. In our bed.”

He paused to let her think about it and she rolled her eyes before turning away from him slightly, not wanting to admit that he was right.

“Besides,” he finished, his tone smug now, “I'm pretty sure you have to do those things before you conceive.”

“Well, it doesn't matter!” X argued, heading back over to the sofa. “It's gonna be a boy anyway.”

Miguel smiled and wrapped her up in his arms as he came up behind her. “I don't care, gatita; as long as it's healthy.”

She still couldn’t believe it sometimes, being able to share such an average, domestic lifestyle with him. It had always seemed like something that would elude her: the one treasure she’d never be able to steal. But here she was, discussing a baby with the man she loved, planning out their medical appointments and imagining the life they’d share together. She still remembered the day she’d shown up on his doorstep, all nervous and dressed up for their first date; the date she’d practically forced him into after running away from him that first night.

She breathed in and out as she tiptoed over to Miguel’s door, trying to maintain a steady heartbeat. Sure, they’d already had sex, but this was … harder. This time they’d actually have to make conversation and she’d have to keep him entertained and what if he was still mad at her for running away? So mad that he’d reject her when she showed up at his door, slamming it in her face? She sucked in a deep breath and bounced on the balls on her feet to get rid of some of her nervous energy. Then she pressed the doorbell.

Miguel opened the door and his eyes widened when he saw her standing there. He opened and closed his mouth for a moment, stunned. Then he sucked in a breath and covered his face with his hands, turning around and groaning loudly in frustration. “¡Ay, mierda! ¡¿Qué p*tas?! (Ah, shit! What the f*ck?!)”

He took a moment to compose himself, then turned back to her, his features rearranged into an exasperated look as he waited for an explanation.

Great! He still hadn’t shut the door on her yet, which meant she still had a chance! She cleared her throat and held a hand out of him. Miguel glanced at her palm, then lifted his gaze back up to hers. “What?”

“Your phone!” X demanded. “I need to make sure you don’t try to call anyone while we’re on our date.”

Miguel folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorframe. “Why don’t you just steal it?”

X curled her fingers into her palm, hesitating at the thinly veiled irritation in his voice. “I’ve never stolen anything from you, Miguel. And I don’t intend to start now.”

‘Then why are you here, standing at my door in your cute little outfit, your hair neatly curled, your face carefully done? Do you not plan to steal my heart?’ He stayed silent, appraising her carefully as he considered his response. But why? Why would she possibly care what he thought of her? Why would she ever want to spend even more time with him? Miguel held out his hand, reciprocating her gesture and silently asking for her phone.

X grinned and quickly bit down on her smile - but not before he caught it. She reached into her pocket and took her phone out, then placed it in his hand. Miguel did the same, the muscles in his jaw working as he exchanged his phone with hers, clearly disappointed. But X didn’t seem to notice, instead pressing her lips together to muffle the delighted squeal that escaped her throat. Miguel felt his stomach flip at her excitement - against his own will, might he add. Why was he entertaining her again?

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” X asked, trying to peek around him to catch a glimpse of his apartment. Miguel gave an indignant snort.

“I didn’t realise we’d reached that part of the evening so quickly.” X’s cheeks heated up at his words and she lowered her gaze, her chest beginning to tingle at the memory of their night together. Did he want to do it again? Tonight? Even after all she’d done to him?

“Um, I just … Aren’t you gonna change?” she suggested, her eyes flickering to his loose tee and soft sweatpants. He didn’t move.

“Maybe if you’ll tell me where you’re taking me.” Ugh! Did she have to look so cute? Standing there and avoiding his gaze as she tried to convince him to go out with her.

“Uh, just for a movie,” she replied. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, then let her gaze bounce between his face and the ground. “And then, maybe, some dessert after?”

He sighed at the hopeful expression on her face and rolled his eyes before stepping aside, giving her the space to enter. X bounced into his living room, taking in all the intimate details of his personal space.

“Don’t touch anything,” Miguel warned her, pausing for a moment to make sure she understood. Then he went to his room to change.

X ran around his place, taking note of everything but being careful to not touch any of it - she wanted him to trust her, after all, especially now that he’d given her this chance. It wasn't long before he reappeared in his jeans and a soft tee that hugged him all the way to his wrists. Her stomach bubbled with excitement at the sight of him and she lowered her head to hide her smile.

He’d never seen her like this before: nervous, shy, desperate to please him. And he didn’t know how he felt about this side of her yet. “Should we?”

“Uh, yeah!” X hopped over to the door, but stopped in front of it, waiting for him to open it. Miguel’s lips twitched at the corners as he headed over to her, amused by how seriously she’d followed his instruction to not touch anything.

“How do you know where I live?” Miguel asked as they made their way down the corridor to the lifts. X avoided his gaze, nervous.

“Uh, I spy on you, sometimes,” she admitted. “When I’m bored or when I miss you. Which is a lot, actually.” She wanted to be honest; wanted him to trust her and want to be around her. But she knew she’d have to work hard for it.

Miguel startled, taken aback by her response. Was she joking? Like she always did, teasing and flirting with him with that mischievous smile on her face? Or was she being honest? Like she seemed to have been so far. “Uh, what?”

X turned her head away from him, embarrassed.

“Um, I just miss you, sometimes. You’re smart and funny and … cute.” She slid her gaze over to him, checking for his response. “With your … your little fangs and that one expression you always give me when you’re pretending to be annoyed with me.” Her lips stretched wide at the thought.

Miguel paused, speechless - and also completely devoid of thought right then. How was he supposed to respond to that? And the smile she kept trying to hide from him? Soft and sweet and so uncharacteristically shy? It made his heart skip a beat every time he saw it.

“Oh! Miguel! Hi!” A young woman - maybe slightly younger than her - dragged a bag of trash down the corridor. She stopped and waved at Miguel when she saw him, her eyes lighting up in excitement. But then her gaze flickered to X and her smile faltered. “Um, what are you doing out so late?”

Miguel froze, horrified at being caught in such a casual situation with his greatest enemy. Okay, maybe ‘greatest enemy’ was a bit dramatic. “Uh, just …”

X glanced back and forth between Miguel and his neighbour, her heart sinking lower into her stomach with every second that he didn't respond. Then she grabbed onto his forearm and curled her fingers around him possessively.

“We’re just going for a movie,” she informed the young lady. Then she glanced up at Miguel, her lips stretching into a naughty smile as she looked at him. “Or maybe we’ll just make out in the back.”

She stretched onto her toes, bringing her lips closer to his ear. “¿Si, mi Miguelito?”

She nipped his earlobe before lowering herself back down and Miguel rubbed the back of his neck as he avoided his neighbour’s gaze, embarrassed.

“Oh!” the woman exclaimed, the disappointment scrawled clearly all over her face. “Okay. Well … uh, good night.”

X’s eyes lit up when the lift doors finally opened and she dragged Miguel into it behind her.

“It was nice to meet you, bye!” She gave the woman an enthusiastic wave, then dropped Miguel’s wrist as soon as the doors closed, folding her arms across her chest and glaring at him. “What was that?!”

“Me?! What was you?!” he retorted quickly, wincing as he rubbed at his ear. “Biting my ear like that.” He turned his gaze away from her and shifted uncomfortably in position. How the hell had he gotten himself into this situation? Why the hell had he gotten himself into this situation?

X maintained the look of anger on her face, even as her stomach started roiling with nerves. “Did you like her?”

‘Before you’d had sex with me?’ He wasn’t the type to cheat, her righteous detective with his black and white morals. But what if he still had some feelings for her, his cute and friendly neighbour with her uncomplicated history and her easy life? Miguel sighed.

“No.” ‘How could I ever have fallen in love with anyone else when most of my time was spent chasing you?’ “But I know she likes me. I just felt bad.”

He shrugged and X felt a wave of relief wash over her. The doors opened again and she turned to walk out of the lift, but stopped to grab his hand, twining her fingers firmly with his. He shot her a questioning glance, but she didn’t look up at him as they walked out of the lift. “Where’s your car?”

She’d always been stubborn, but where it would frustrate him before, now it just made his stomach feel kind of funny. “Uh, just … this way.”

She’d walked him to his door at the end of the night - he’d offered to drop her off, but she’d refused, still not trusting him enough to let him know where she lived. She looked up at him now with wide eyes as he leaned against his doorframe, studying her.

She was so cute with her curly eyelashes and her hopeful smile and her snug jeans. And he’d actually had a nice time with her tonight, gaining a little more insight into her life as they’d chatted over dessert. He reached a hand out and snuck his fingers beneath her shirt to brush them along her waist. She was so soft, warm and smooth, just like he remembered. He lifted his gaze to hers as he scratched her lightly, his heart picking up its pace at the way she bit her lip at his touch.

She was already starting to get wet at the way he touched her so casually - at the look he gave her as he watched for her response. But she stayed frozen in position, waiting for him to make the first move this time.

His lips quirked at the ends at the way she didn’t even dare take a breath. He had all the power in this situation - to reject her or call the cops on her. Or bring her into his apartment to have sex with her again. He sighed and slid his hand around to her lower back, moving to one side and guiding her into his apartment. He closed the door with his free hand, then moved both to her waist, gliding his hands up her sides and pulling her shirt off.

“Why’d you run away, gatita?” He unclasped her bra and tossed it aside before curling himself around her and reaching up to knead her breasts in his hands. “I was going to help you, you know. I had a whole plan and everything.” His voice was low as he murmured against her skin and she shivered at the feeling of his lips travelling along the side of her neck.

“I … It was easier … this way, Miguel,” she told him as he slid her hands down her stomach and undid her jeans before tugging them down together with her underwear. X felt her brain turn fuzzy as he brushed his hands across her skin, her mind overcome with pleasure at the desire in his voice and how quickly he’d taken off all her clothes already. She hadn’t been expecting this when she’d showed up at his door earlier that night - not that she wasn’t loving it. She’d just thought that maybe he’d have wanted to take it a little slower, given how guarded he always was around her. “I didn’t want to get you in trouble.”

Miguel returned one hand to her breast while sliding the other over her ass and between her legs. He slid his fingers into her entrance and X let out a surprised yelp when he began pumping his thick digits in and out of her rhythmically. “Then why’d you show up at my door tonight?”

X flopped over Miguel’s arm, trying to find her voice as he continued to tease her. “I … I really … like you … Miguel. Shit.”

He really liked her too - against his better judgement. He licked a line up her neck and nipped her earlobe as he curled his fingers inside of her and she let out an adorable squeak in response.

“Gatita,” Miguel groaned in the crook of her neck. “Me estás matando, cariño. (You're killing me, sweetheart.)”

X clutched his forearm tightly, trying to keep herself upright as her leg lifted off the ground to stretch herself wider for him. But then her eyes were rolling back in her head and she was flopping over his arm as her body shuddered against him with pleasure.

“Mmm. Vamos, gatita,” Miguel commanded her once she’d finished. He removed his fingers from her and followed close behind as she stumbled over to his bedroom, taking his own clothes off along the way. It was going to be another long night.

X lifted her head at the sound of Miguel’s alarm going off. She grumbled and reached across his knocked-out form to hit the snooze button, then she tucked his phone under his back so he’d feel the vibrations and get up when it went off again. She curled herself back around him, satisfied, and quickly started drifting off into sleep again.

Miguel startled when he felt his alarm go off beneath him. He switched it off, then began the tedious process of extricating his wife from him - he didn’t know how she still managed to wrap herself so tightly around him considering how much her belly had grown in the last few months. X started whining and yowling as he removed her arms and legs from around him before turning her over and tucking her under the covers so she couldn’t grab at him again. She was always like this when she’d started trusting him enough to not run away before he awoke every morning; screeching like a little cat whenever he had to get up to go to work. Her job didn’t have regular hours, and she wasn’t a morning person - as he’d had to learn the hard way - so the struggle had quickly become a part of their daily routine. Miguel got up and smiled at the crease between her brows as she frowned at him in her sleep, irritated at having to be separated from him. Then he headed to the bathroom, already looking forward to picking her up for lunch later that day.

X tried to keep her breathing steady as the nurse wheeled her down the hallway. The contractions weren’t so bad yet, but all the guys at her workplace had started freaking out when they’d begun. They’d practically carried her over to one of their cars and then shuttled her to the hospital immediately, a few of them even insisting on waiting with her until her husband arrived. She turned to Ben, curling her fingers tightly around his hand as he kept pace beside her. “Miguel?”

“He’s on his way,” Ben reassured her, patting her hand gently. “Peter said they’re driving over right now.”

“Yeah,” Pavitr agreed from her other side. “He sounded pretty terrified too - Detective O’Hara’s probably speeding through a hundred red lights right now.” Pavitr chuckled at the thought - the boys were all so enamoured with her smart and strong husband, always crowding around him and pestering him with questions about his job whenever he picked her up from work. She loved it.

“Please,” X stopped him, chuckling at the thought of Miguel racing through the streets while Peter clung onto his seat for dear life. “We all know Miguel would never break the law.”

She looked up at her friends as they snickered in agreement - her honest-to-goodness, real life friends! - and teared up at the thought of how far she’d come.

“Don’t cry, X!” Pavitr exclaimed quickly, panicking at the sight of the tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Don’t tell her that!” Ben scolded him, prompting Pav to shoot him a confused look. “Tell her … Tell her she can cry if she wants to!”

“You can cry if you want to, X, it’s all right!” X laughed through her tears at his response.

“You guys are such idiots,” she told them. “Thanks for being there for me all this time.” She started crying again, but then yelped in pain when another contraction hit her. Pavitr and Ben glanced at one another in terror, then proceeded to give X reassuring strokes and pats on the back.

“Just focus on your breathing exercises, okay, X?" Ben soothed her. "Pav! Play the song! The one Detective O’Hara told us to!” Pavitr nodded quickly and pulled out his phone.

Miguel hadn’t wanted her to continue working after she’d started showing, but she’d insisted that she’d just go crazy if he kept her locked up in the house with nothing to do. ‘Why do you keep trying to lock me up, Detective?’ she’d teased him, lips curled into that wicked smile that drove him crazy. ‘I’m already married to you and I’m having our baby. How could I possibly think of running away from you now?’ He’d given her an exasperated sigh in response - the ones he reserved especially for her - and then jumped into another lecture about looking after herself while she was pregnant. But, as always, she’d won that particular argument. So instead, Miguel had shown up at her workplace with an extensive list of all the things she’d possibly need in the event of an emergency. The guys had hung onto his every word as he’d instructed them on how to take care of his precious little wife, and she couldn’t help but feel a wave of warmth at how much all of them cared about her. Ben and Pav gripped onto each of her arms, supporting her as she got out of the wheelchair and waddled over to the bed.

“I can still walk, guys,” she reassured them, amused by their concern for her.

“Sure, but you know Detective O’Hara would kill us if anything happened to you!” Pav pointed out ot her, not entirely exaggerating.

“And nobody would ever even know!” Ben added, eyes wide with terror. “Probably.” X rolled her eyes affectionately, then winced as another contraction overtook her.

Ben took hold of her hand in both of his as she squeezed him tightly. “Breathe! Breathe through it! You got this!”

X gritted her teeth, starting to get irritated now by how they kept treating her like she was some fragile porcelain doll. “I know I’ve got this. Someone just get me my frickin’ husband!”

“X?!” Miguel exclaimed, bursting into the room, Peter close on his heels. His eyes landed on her and he breathed a sigh of relief as he rushed over to her. “X! ¿Cómo estás, mi gatita?” He grabbed her hand when Ben released and brushed her hair away from her face.

“Are you okay? Have they given you an epidural yet?” He turned to the nurse before she could respond. “Can you get her an epidural?! And where is that … that yoga ball thing?!” Miguel searched around the room before his eyes landed on Pav. He waved a hand at him commandingly.

“Pav! Find an exercise ball!” Pav nodded, but Miguel had already returned his attention to his pregnant wife. “What else do you need? Do you want water? I can …” Miguel glanced around the room, searching but not finding a water bottle anywhere.

“Peter!” he called back to him over his shoulder. “Get X some water! The good stuff! Not the cheap ones from the vending machine.” Peter disappeared and X squeezed Miguel’s hand as another contraction overtook her. Miguel rubbed her back reassuringly.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Estás bien, mi amor. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” He twisted his head back around to the door and scowled in impatience. “Peter! Water?!”

“I got it! I got it!” Peter exclaimed, running back into the room. He set the water bottle down on the bedside table and Miguel opened it before handing it to X.

“Miguel! ¡Ya basta!” X scolded him, glaring at him in irritation. “Can you just let the nurse do her job?!” The nurse came up behind Miguel, seizing the opening X had granted her.

“I’ve already notified the doctor of Mrs O’Hara’s admission,” she informed Miguel calmly. “She’ll be here in a few minutes. Until then, it’s probably best if we clear the room and help your wife relax.”

“Right! So!” The nurse turned to Miguel, holding out a hospital gown for him to take. “Maybe you can help your wife get changed before the doctor gets here?”

“Oh, right.” Miguel followed her gaze around the room, then waved everyone away with the hand that wasn’t glued to X’s. “You guys can go home first. I think it might take a while. We’ll keep you updated.”

Their friends trudged out of the room nervously and Miguel turned back to his wife, anxiously waiting for her to tell him what she needed. X relaxed and treated him to a grateful smile.

“Uh, yes! Of course,” Miguel agreed, taking the dress from the nurse. He gripped X’s arm as she got out the bed, then helped guide her over to the toilet. “Vamos, querida.”

“Come on, querida!” Miguel urged her through the mask strapped across his face. “You can do it! Just one more push! I know you’ve got this!”

X squeezed his hand and groaned as she gave a final hard push. And then their baby was out, red and crying and so, so tiny. X sighed and sank back into the bed, completely and thoroughly exhausted. “What is it?”

Miguel leaned closer to hear her better, his eyes never leaving their child as the nurses cleaned and weighed the baby. “¿Qué?”

“The baby,” X mumbled, trying to catch her breath. “¿Gatito o gatita?”

Miguel chuckled at her stubbornness. Even now, even after bringing a whole other being into the world, her biggest concern was which one of them had been right. He waited until their baby was back in his arms, its little lips turned down in a pout, its little eyes wide and curious as they roamed across his face. Then he turned to place their baby in her arms, giving her a smug smirk as he did so. “Gatita.”

X rolled her eyes, but smiled at their little baby, her chubby little cheeks and her round eyes, her lips pushed out into a scowl, just like the one her father always wore. X turned her gaze to Miguel, her lips stretched wide with joy at the opportunity to be surrounded by her very own little family. Her husband bent over to press a kiss to her head and she cuddled their baby close, never having felt so happy in her entire life.

[inkabelledesigns]

I built a shelf?!

Hi, I'm Kat Alyst, your resident fae that has never felt like she should be trusted with power tools, and GUESS WHAT I USED TODAY! So here is my tale of how this came to be:

My grandparents are both incredibly handy people. They've both taken on so many projects to build furniture for as long as I can remember. This summer, Grandpa's big project was building a new dresser for their bedroom, and it is an impressive feat! It's almost done and looking fantastic! But along the way, some mistakes were made, and he ended up with some drawer fronts that didn't quite fit. So instead of getting rid of them, I asked if we could upcycle them into something new. My brother in law has been helping out a lot this summer, he's so eager to learn how to do stuff like this, and Grandpa took both of us into the workshop for this project. The three of us together built this shelf!

I was so nervous. I may customize dolls regularly and work with some scary/dangerous materials, but this is a whole other league from what I do. But with some guidance and teamwork, it turned out great! For anyone curious, this is made of pine, so it's very hard and easy to break your tools on. We only lost one drill bit in the process! I also got to use an orbital sander for the first time! I hate sanding dolls, but this was a lot of fun, and the result is so nice and smooth. I drilled holes, I measured, and I feel more confident than ever about it. It gives me some hope that when I'm ready to do my heavy doll mods that require cutting into plastic, I can handle it better.

But now for the test: can my dolls fit here? I didn't pack any of my customs with me to see how they fit, and suspect it'll be a little tight given the shelves are 11 and 5/8 inches tall. But I'm okay with that, this still works. Not to mention I can put them on the top. I did have Drac here though, since I need a mannequin for a sewing project, so I have a better idea of what I'm looking at than having no doll. I'm still deciding how the display will work, but my thought for now is to have this on top of my desk against the wall. That way, I can display my dolls in it and keep a few materials stored. I could potentially include some plushies here too, and figures, I've got some of those now. X'''D I've got some puck lights and fairy lights I can use to brighten it up too. I don't know what color to paint it yet. My space is a light pink, I could do more pink, or white, or blue, or maybe mint green. I know I want to keep it light, but I'm undecided. Maybe I'll abandon all of that and make it neon pink, who knows? XD My mom suggested I should take my bedspread and match it to that. My grandma thinks it should be striped. We'll see what happens!

I've wanted to have a shelf for my dolls for a long time now, and to say I have one that was built with love like this? That means everything. I forget if I've shared it here, but my current display spot features a lamp made by my great grandfather, and it's so special to me to have my art alongside his. Now I get to say that about another piece, and that means so much. I'll try to remember to update you when I know where it's going. This is so exciting, oh I'm so looking forward to this!