#i find I can do it with drawing but even then there are times where I stray away and do something else
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flemingsfreckles · 2 days ago
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In Control (18+ g!p)
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Synopsis: After Jessie leaves you high and dry one morning before training, you decide to take matters into your own hands when she returns home late that evening.
Warnings: SMUT (18+), g!p smut, simulated sex (think dry humping without clothes 🙃), oral sex (r giving), delayed orgasm/edging, lots of grinding, sort of ruined orgasm, dirty talk, slight dom/sub dynamic, overstimulation,
WC: 4.4k
A/N: hi, I know g!p isn’t everyone’s thing, but I had this idea and couldn’t get it out of my brain so I needed to write it. I also promise I’ve got some non-g!p smut in the works as well as some non-smut stuff. I’ve just had to take a bit of a break to deal with some real life things and take time after the election to compose myself and take some time to care for myself. I promise other stuff is slowly being worked on, this is just what was the most completed.
“Babe, don’t!” You scolded Jessie as she lay behind you, subtly grinding the hard on she had woken up with into your ass.
“Don’t what?” Her voice, still deep with sleep
“You know what you’re doing, you’re going to get me all worked up, then leave me high and dry when your alarm goes off in,” you lean over to look at the clock, “8 minutes, and then you get to go work off steam at practice while I’m stuck here without you!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She whispered, before placing an open mouth kiss on the side of your neck, her arms slowly wrapping around your midsection. Her fingers draw lines across your stomach and begin to trail up to your chest as she continues gently grinding herself into you. It takes everything in you to not roll your hips back, you couldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she already had you worked up.
As you predicted, Jessie’s alarm rang out just a few moments later and suddenly her hands were gone and the bed behind you was empty as Jessie moved into the bathroom to get ready. When she came back out in a shirt and shorts you couldn’t help but notice the still prominent bulge she had.
“You didn’t take care of yourself in there?” You say, still eyes her up.
Shaking her head Jessie smiled at you, “I’m saving it for you, plus it’ll go away in a minute or two once I’m thinking about training and not my sexy girlfriend.”
“Go then, but give me a kiss first.” You reach a hand out in her direction.
“I love you.” She says as she walks over to where you remained in bed.
“I love you.” Your lips meet in a quick kiss. “You better be ready to go when you get home, none of this I’m too tired from training shit. You’ve fucked me after playing 90 and then going to after parties, you can handle it after a training session.” You smile up at her, giving her a quick wink, making sure she knew you were teasing.
“I promise, I’ll make it worth the wait, I’ll have you screaming my name baby.” She responded with a cocky tone, letting her hand trail down your sternum before placing one final kiss on your lips. “We’re done at 1:30, I’ll be leaving there around 2:30 at the latest, I promise. 3 o’clock I’m all yours.”
You sighed heavily as you checked the time again. 2:30 came and went, no text from Jessie that she’d be home soon, then it was 2:45 still no word from her, and then it was 3:00. You had gotten yourself all ready 30 minutes before Jessie was supposed to be home And here she was, late.
You had gone into the closet, finding the small shopping bag you had purchased the other day. Inside of it a tight, dark blue lacy bra with a matching thong to go with it. You had put both on, then perched yourself on your bed in anticipation for Jessie’s return home, waiting for her to come and follow through on her promise to have you screaming her name.
You were annoyed at first, Jessie never blew you off. She was a terrible texted but she kept you updated on where she was, when she’d be home. This was unusual behavior, you were worried about her, maybe something happened, maybe she had gotten injured. Your early stages of spiraling were put to rest when Jessie finally returned your messages at 3:21.
Jessie ☺️: I’m so sorry, I got caught up in some impromptu press stuff I didn’t know about, I’ll be home soon.
Slightly frustrated with her, you decide to get your revenge. Smirking to yourself you open your phone's camera before sliding your hand to the waistband of your thong. You move your hand down between your legs, taking a moment to touch yourself before deciding to take a photo. It wasn’t overly explicit, just showing your hand between your legs and a teasing glimpse of the blue lace, but it would get the idea into Jessie’s head.
You: I was told I’d be getting pleased by 3, just didn’t know I’d have to do it myself.
You watch as the message goes from delivered to read. You watch as she types for a moment, then stop, no message ever being delivered. You roll your eyes, losing your phone before lying back, letting your fingers mindlessly play with your core, not really trying to get yourself off but more just enjoying the feeling.
You heard the jingle of her keys and the door shut followed by quick footsteps and the bedroom door swinging open not long after. Jessie stood in the doorway still wearing her training kit. Her eyes fall to where your hand was still inside the lacy fabric.
“Oh wow.”
“Nice of you to show up.” You say firmly at her, sitting yourself up on your elbows, taking your fingers away from where they had been on your clit.
“I know, I’m so sorry, we just had media stuff that no one told us about.” As Jessie begins her frustrated rant regarding having to participate in media and the lack of warning your eyes can’t help but wander down her body to the slightly obvious tent of her training shorts.
“I just wish they’d given us a heads up, that would’ve been nice, but no, they made us all train and then shower and then we had to get back into clean training kits and pretend we were training again for photos.” Jessie continues on rambling.
Deciding you had heard enough you push yourself up from the bed and walk over to her. She continues talking, eyes now closed in frustration, complaining about her day until she feels your hand fall between her legs, cupping the noticeable arousal. Her eyes immediately open, falling to where your hand rested.
“Should we do something about this?” You look at her, giving a gentle squeeze to her bulge. She nods and you reach for her neck with your free hand, pulling her in hard to kiss you. Her body pressed into yours, letting her covered bulge grind against you. “Hang on Jess.” You manage to clear your mind enough to push her away gently. She steps back, her eyes trailing over your nearly naked body, drinking you in with her eyes.
“God I’m so lucky.” She mumbles to herself. You feel shy and yet confident under her gaze, knowing you could make her like this felt good.
“Lay down.” You say nodding at the bed. Jessie questions you with a glance. You throw your hands up. “Just do it, let me put on a show for you.” Running your hands over the lace of the bra you try to sell the lie you were telling her. You knew if you told her what you were about to do, she’d be stubborn. Promising a show would get her on the bed easily.
As you expected she quickly climbs on the bed situating herself in the middle. You follow her, making your way towards where she laid. Jessie sits up one hand out to reach for you, instead your hands find her shoulders and you gently push her down, putting her on her back before climbing to sit on her thighs.
“Hey that was mean.”
“So was telling me that you'd be mine at 3, and then not getting home until nearly 4.”
“I know, but babe I had media.” She tried to defend herself. You knew deep down it wasn’t her fault, but she could’ve at least texted.
“Shhh.” You put a finger to her lips. “No excuses, right?” You nod encouragingly down at her, until her own head mirrors the nod. You lean down kissing her hard, starting to slowly grind yourself down onto Jessie’s thighs. “Now,” you pause, “do you think you deserve a show?”
Jessie just looks at you, her eyes jumping around your face, unsure of how to answer, so she doesn’t. She continues to stare, her mouth opening every few seconds as if she’s going to answer before she closes it again.
“I don’t think you do. Had you been on time, I would’ve given you a show, I would’ve let you put your hands all over me, I would’ve let you pull these off of me, or maybe I would’ve let you decide if you wanted to fuck me while I was still wearing them. But you were late, and I had to start by myself.”
Jessie sighs, “Let me make it up to you, let me show you I’m sorry.” Her hands come to rest on your thighs, letting them creep up toward your core.
“No, keep your hands to yourself.” You say with a glare before moving off her thighs. You bring your hands lower, one cupping the obvious tent in her shorts. Giving it a quick squeeze, Jessie bucks her hips slightly.
You slowly draw down her shorts, making sure to tease her, taking your time getting the waistband past her erection, letting the fabric drag slowly over her cock. You then repeat the same tantalizing process with her tight compression boxers, finally letting her length spring free. You admire it for a second, giving it your full attention knowing it made Jessie feel shy but you wanted to truly appreciate her, all of her. “Is that all for me? Did I get you this hard?” You cock an eyebrow, looking up at her from where you sat between her legs.
Jessie nods in your direction, her eyes looking between her own arousal and your face.
“Tell me baby.” You encourage her.
“You make me so hard.”
“Good girl.” You praise her, causing her breath to hitch slightly at the words and her erection to bounce as her muscles clench In reaction to your words.
“You know I was thinking about this,” Your hand wraps around the base of her cock, “when I was touching myself. I was thinking about how well you fuck me, how wet I get for you, thinking about you, all of you, your fingers and your tongue and especially your cock.”
Jessie takes a deep breath, blinking quickly a few times, you can tell she’s trying to compose herself the way her hands fist the bedsheets before relaxing.
“You must’ve had some dirty thoughts of your own, the way you walked in the door already hard. What were you thinking about baby?”
“You.” Jessie tries to thrust her hips into your hand slightly, causing you to take your hand away from her.
“Tell me more.”
“I was thinking about that dirty little photo you sent me. I was thinking about fucking you.” You nod encouragingly as she speaks, bringing your hand back to her, running your fingers down her length. Her words stops and you once again take away your hand.
“More.” You say looking up at her.
She nods, looking to the ceiling for a moment. “I was thinking about, how sexy you are, how good you feel around me,” Jessie’s words fill the air, you bring your mouth to the tip of her cock, your tongue grazing over the head, cleaning the precum that was leaking from the tip. When Jessie’s voice stops you pull your head back and look up to see her eyes blown wide and mouth slightly ajar.
“You stop talking, I stop too.”
“Your pussy, I was thinking about your pussy, how tight you feel, how you’re made for me.” As she speaks you take the head of her length into your mouth, letting your tongue swirl around it, pleased with yourself when she stumbles over her words. “I was thinking about how I want to be deep inside of you, making you scream my name.”
Rewarding her you take her length into your mouth until the tip hits the back of your throat, before pulling off and watching in amusement as she thrusts into the air, wanting your mouth back. “I don’t think you deserve to be in my mouth, and you certainly don’t deserve to be in my pussy.” Jessie just lets out another sigh as she looks up at you with a silent beg.
Your hand strokes Jessie’s length once, spreading your saliva along it before your hand comes to hold it for a moment. Slowly you push her cock down, the tip coming to rest on her stomach just below her bellybutton. You hold it flat against her stomach and begin to adjust yourself. You move upward, off her thighs to hover over her hips, your core just inches away from where you knew she wanted it.
Smirking down at her you pull your panties to the side and lower yourself onto her. You raised an eyebrow as you gave a tentative grind yourself along Jessie’s length, watching her for any signs of discomfort. The stuttered breath from Jessie gave you all the information you needed to know, she was enjoying this as well.
You repeat your motion, letting the slick of your arousal coat the underside of her cock. Looking up from where the head of her cock was starting to leak onto her stomach you find Jessie’s face mesmerized as she watched you grind on her. “Guess you’re getting a show after all.” You say smugly, her eyes pulling away and coming up to meet yours. “Like what you see?”
A smile creeps onto Jessie’s face as she nods. “Yeah, you look fucking gorgeous.”
“Would this make it better?” You say as you reach a hand behind your back, removing the clasp on your bra and letting the material slide down your shoulders slightly. You remove the bra, tossing it to the side and you swear you can feel Jessie’s cock twitch against you. Her hands start to move upward before you move your own hands to cover your chest. “It’s just a show, no touching, if you had been on time you could’ve touched me in any way you wanted.” Standing up quickly, despite Jessie’s whine as the loss of contact, you strip off the panties you had already soaked, dropping them on the floor before climbing back onto the bed and settling yourself on Jessie’s cock.
Feeling smug at the way Jessie lets out a small huff of frustration, you rock back and forth again, this time making sure to grind your clit against her head, knowing that’s where she was most sensitive. “Fuck.” Jessie’s hands grip your thighs, her nails digging in slightly. You feel her arms tense as they try to encourage your grinding motion.
Fed up with her, you grab her wrists, pulling them from your thighs, noticing the way your skin flashes white before returning pink from how hard she had been gripping you. You lace your fingers with hers before leaning forward, pinning her arms above her head. “What did I say? No touching. You’re not in charge anymore, you lost that privilege when you were late.” You watch as Jessie’s eyes widen in what appears to be shock, you weren’t normally one to be dominant in the bedroom, that was usually her role. You felt uneasy for a moment watching her reaction, worried you’d made her uncomfortable, but she just looked up at you before swallowing hard and nodding.
“Please.” She let out what would be an otherwise embarrassing whine, but you knew she didn’t care. You could feel the way her body tensed under yours, her hands clenching into fists. You just smile and shake your head down at her.
She could flip the two of you easily, you both knew it. She was stronger, even in her compromised position she had leg, core, and arm strength that yours couldn’t match. While she could overpower you, Jessie also knew this was a punishment, she had gotten held up at work and failed to tell you, so while she could flip you, easily have her way with you, she remained flat on the bed, looking up helplessly at you.
“Babe, please, I’m so sorry.”
“Hmmm.” You pretend to ponder the choices, knowing fully that you weren’t going to let her get her way just yet. “No, I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet.”
“I have, babe I’ll never do it again.” You can feel her starting to squirm more beneath you. “Let me show you how sorry I am, let me make you feel good.”
“I’m feeling plenty good. I think it’s you who’s a little worked up.” You lean down putting your mouth to her ear. “I think you just want to be in my tight pussy.” You whisper, punctuating your sentence by grazing your teeth along her ear.
“I- “fuck, I do, I want to be inside you, but I want to make you feel good.”
“Like I said, I’m feeling plenty good.” You emphasize your words with a roll of your hips, watching as Jessie’s mouth falls open and she briefly closes her eyes. Taking her silence as acceptance of her punishment, you continue grinding yourself along her, enjoying the way her face contorts trying to hide how good you were making her feel.
You start to notice how Jessie’s breathing picks up, going from long, deep breaths trying to compose herself, to quicker, less even breathing. It doesn’t take long before Jessie speaks up again. “Fuck, babe, I’m gonna cum soon if you don’t stop.”
“Yeah?” You let your hips stall for a moment and watch as Jessie instantly relaxes below you, taking in a slow deep breath.
“Yeah, you’ve got me so close.”
“Good.” You smirk down at her as you begin moving your hips, you watch as frustration flushes through Jessie’s face before being replaced with pleasure as you grind yourself onto the head of her cock. Her eyes begin to roll back before she quickly shuts her eyes, letting out a strained grunt.
“Fuck.” She mutters, head thrown back slightly. “Fuck, babe.” She sends you a glare, an expression of annoyance across her face. ”Seriously. I’m going to cum.”
“Then do it.” You shrug your shoulders.
“No.” Jessie shakes her head against the pillow, her eyes pinched shut, “Not yet, I want to cum inside you.” You almost laugh at her expression. You hardly ever got to see Jessie like this, putty in your hands,
“If you wanted to cum inside me maybe you would’ve come home on time.” You couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself as you watched your usually in control, level headed, calm girlfriend fall apart beneath you. “Then you could’ve been so deep inside me, any position you would’ve wanted, let you manhandle me, use me, I would’ve let you cum in me. But you were late.”
She shuts her mouth, lips tight, she squints at you, not saying a word.
“Oh, are you upset baby?” You tease her. Putting both of her wrists in one hand you grab her chin with the other, making her look at you. She glares up at you, still not speaking. “Okay well how about I give you options? Would you like that?”
Jessie keeps her glare for a moment before giving in and nodding.
“Okay, well you can either cum now just like this,” you gesture downward to where her cock still remained nestled between your lips. “Or, you don’t cum at all, I’ll climb off, leave you here, and use one of our toys to finish the job. What would you prefer?” You notice the degrading tone you’re using toward her, but you also don’t care.
She doesn’t give you an answer right away, to tease her you start to shift your weight as if you’re going to stand up. “Like this.” She finally mutters.
“Good choice.” You sit back down with a grin, returning to your previous motion, making sure to focus your attention on the head of her cock. It’s only a few minutes later that Jessie starts to quietly whine.
You know it’s coming, you can tell by her facial expressions, the way she scrunches her nose and her eyebrows pinch together. Her chest begins to heave. You finally release her hands, realizing just how hard she was straining against you, they immediately grab your hips as you allow her to aid your grinding motion as she ever so slightly thrusts her hips. The way her eyes get wide as if giving you one last plea to be inside of you before slamming shut, her lips falling apart as a deep groan from her fills the air.
Pausing your own thrusts you watch as her hips thrust roughly twice before stalling, the head of her cock nestled between your lips. You can feel her tense up below you. A whisper of profanities comes from her mouth. Her hands tighten on your thighs, her nails indenting your skin, her thighs and core clenched and she holds her breath as she begins to cum, traces being shot over her own chest. A whine full of pleasure mixed with frustration escapes her body as you feel her length twitch beneath you.
“Now that you got yours, I want mine.” You say starting to grind yourself on her again. You knew you had to be quick, using her length while it was still hard you moved yourself faster, grinding yourself harder. Jessie gasps as you begin to pleasure yourself once again, using her overly stimulated cock.
“Oh fuck, this is so good Jess.” Feeling yourself get closer to the edge you no longer care that she’s touching you, not enough self control to slow your impending orgasm.
“Fuck, fuck,” Jessie groans beneath you, her eyes are still closed as she tries to keep her composure long enough to help you get your orgasm. she bites her lip hard stuck between the immense pleasure and overstimulation she was experiencing. “Too much.” She whines as you speed up your hips, your hands flat on her chest using her for leverage.
“You can take it. I’m almost there Jess.” You knew if she needed you to stop she’d tell you, you also knew she’d do anything to get you your pleasure. Her hands kneaded at your thighs as she tried to hold herself together long enough to help you. She nodded, adding in a thrust with her hips, aiding in the stimulation on your clit.
“Right there, fuck.” You can feel your thighs beginning to tremble on either side of Jessie’s waist as your orgasm creeps closer. Your hands leave her chest and move to your own, letting your fingertips graze over your sensitive nipples. You did it knowing it would give you the tiny bit of sensation you needed to get over the edge but also because you knew it drove Jessie crazy.
As you expected, her mouth falls open in awe watching you. You catch her eyes for one moment before your own close as you throw your head back, your orgasm crashing down. The feeling of release radiates from your core across the rest of your body causing you to tense, stalling your hips momentarily. You jerk your hips against Jessie a few times, working yourself through your orgasm, before collapsing forward. A small sigh leaves your lips as your head comes to rest in the crook of her neck as you wind down. Your breathing is quick and shallow against her skin.
You allow yourself only a minute to recover before pushing yourself up from where you lay on her chest. “I love you, don’t be late next time.” You smirked as you rolled over, still spent from your own orgasm you lay for just a second before quickly getting up. “I’m going to shower.” You look back for a second admiring your girlfriend, her chest covered in her cum, her now softening cock still resting up on her stomach, covered in your own arousal, she looked beautifully spent.
Jessie laid on the bed still, nearly frozen in place, unable to comprehend the past hour. A feeling of overstimulation was still lingering between her thighs but also so was a strong desire to go again. She couldn’t believe the way you took control, the way you held your own against her. She was so used to you crumbling under her touch, falling into submission quickly, but you hadn’t this time. You took control, you had pushed her down on the bed, you had your way with her, you made her submissive. What was confusing Jessie’s mind the most was how much she had liked it.
Laying back, thinking of how you had pinned her hands above her head, how you had her begging for you, how hot you looked using her body to get yourself off. She was in awe, speechless, dumbfounded and overall she was aroused. She looked down, seeing the remnants of her previous orgasm across her stomach and chest, as well as her cock that was beginning to rise again. She needed you.
You waited in the bathroom for a moment, shower running, waiting for your girlfriend to join you. When she didn’t and you didn’t hear her move, you wandered back into the bedroom, still seeing Jessie laid on her back. “Are you joining me, or should I shower by myself, oh!” You stop your question noticing the hard on Jessie was displaying.
Her hands immediately move downward to conceal herself as a smirk grows on your face. “Ready to go again already?”
You watch as the expression on Jessie’s face turns to one you know all too well. Gone was the shy, sweet, submissive side of your girlfriend, her face now firm stared back at you. She was about to get her revenge.
She moved off the bed and toward you, her hand grabbing your chin and pulling it to look at her. “Get in the shower. Seems like someone needs a reminder of who’s in charge around here, and I think we’ll start with you cleaning me up with that smart little tongue of yours.”
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smitethestate · 2 days ago
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So in terms of what we need to look out for first with the new Trump presidency, I think the first threat to a huge number of people is going to be mass deportation efforts.
One thing to consider about Trump and Project 2025 is that Trump's first priorities will be himself, his money, his power, and his ego. He doesn't care about anyone or anything but himself. He doesn't care about Project 2025. So what comes first will be about his image and what the people who can bribe him the most want.
Immigration is a huge thing with him, tied up in his ego and his racism. All immigrants, even those who have gained US citizenship, are at risk.
If you are an immigrant or have loved ones who are, look up organizations like the Immigrant Defense Project. Find immigrant defense lawyers in your area. Know your rights and which of them will be stripped when he invokes the Alien Enemies Act on 1798. The ACLU and other human rights orgs will be fighting him every step of the way, but prepare for anything. He will be giving ICE a lot more power. He says he won't tag in the military for this but don't believe a word he says, ever.
For the rest of us, if you're looking to help, you can join or revive local groups that work to alert people to ICE arrests and move to intervene. Forming crowds around arrest vehicles has worked many times to stop arrests from happening. That rules.
If you can't or don't want to join an org, get in touch with your immigrant neighbors, coworkers, etc. Start chatting with them, let them know you want them to stay and you're available to help. We must be in community with our migrant neighbors to effectively help them.
Start thinking about what you're willing to do. All the way to do you have an attic or other hidden space in your home where you can hide people? Are you willing and prepared to be arrested? Defying the government puts you at risk of imprisonment, and you need to be prepared for what that means, both in a practical sense and mentally/emotionally.
Speak with your partners, roommates, friends, and comrades about this. Know who is at the most risk to be arrested and what they will likely experience in prison. For example, BIPOC and disabled people are at a much higher risk when dealing with police and ICE agents. Under no circumstances would I recommend trans women/transfemme folks risk jail or prison time. Be prepared to risk sustaining psychological trauma. Draw and maintain the boundaries you need around any activism, resistance, or revolutionary activity.
I'll go more in depth on what migrants have to expect during the first 100 days of the second Trump term in a later post.
Please add more ideas and resources below if you have them, or make your own post and alert me so I can boost.
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vanesycho · 2 days ago
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f!reader x bf!vernon | m.list | wc:0,8k
request:hii can i please request a vernon imagine where svt doesnt believe theyre dating reader because hes so nonchalant but svt finds them either in a sweet or sexual position or something? its up to you! thank you <3
a/n: I apologize to the person who wrote the request. your request was deleted because the tags did not work in a way that I did not understand and I have to repost it...I hope it works this time.
I added a little texting at the end to make it a little more fun, enjoy reading!
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"From the world to Vernon." Vernon looked up at Seungkwan's call "Oh sorry, were you saying something?" Kwan rolled his eyes, turned to the front and started muttering to himself "Oh really...What's wrong with this kid, his mind has been elsewhere lately." Jeonghan who entered the room answered him "Don't mess with him, he's probably texting with his girlfriend." It was obvious that the sentence he said was in a mocking tone and a few members laughed at this but Vernon didn't care and continued texting you. He didn't feel the need to prove to anyone that he was dating you because he didn't want to deal with it, and deep down he knew that they were all wrong and he was going to continue this as long as he could.
The rest of the day was spent both texting you and chatting with the others. When it was evening the next day, you were going to his house to surprise him because you missed him. In the meantime, a few members were gathered at his house watching a movie, unaware of everything. Dino, who was bothered by the notifications on Vernon's phone, whined "Yah! Either turn that sound down or answer." Vernon picked up his phone and smiled when he saw that the message was from you.
'I'm outside the door.'
'I missed you...can I see you for a few seconds?'
He cleared his throat and stood up, drawing attention to himself for a moment. "Go on without me, I have something to do, I'll be back." When he realized that they were continuing with the movie without questioning it, he went to the door. You ran to him as soon as you saw him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His arms that had been waiting for you found your waist and pulled you closer, burying his head in your neck and breathing in your scent. "I missed you." He mumbled, you chuckled and when you pulled away, he kissed you on the lips. "Did I come at the wrong time?" You knew the others were home so you didn't want to disturb them, but your longing for him got the better of you.
Vernon shook his head, one hand moving to your cheek, feeling him stroke it with his thumb. “It’s okay, after all, they wouldn’t believe me even if I said my girlfriend was here.” You laughed at that, he would send you a few voice recordings when they talked about Vernon lying, and it was definitely worth listening to. “So..When are we going to prove this to them?” you asked, although you didn’t mind it, you were curious about how far he would go. Vernon closed the gap between you again, his hand on your cheek moving to your neck, slowly pulling you closer to him as he murmured “I don’t really care if they believe me or not. All I care about is you right here with me, so just let me take care of you.”
His lips brushed gently against yours, and you couldn’t wait any longer because of your longing for him, and wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, kissing his lips more passionately. He laughed at how hungry you were in between the kisses, and didn’t hesitate to respond. He sucked your lower lip gently and his hand started to roam your body to feel every part of you that he missed. You opened your mouth and brushed your tongue against his-
"WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING??" Hoshi's shout echoed in the dark street, you backed away in fear and turned to the owner of the voice. His shout must have caught the attention of the other members because some of them opened the door and moved towards you while others settled at the window. "I think it's time they believe us now." You looked at the eyes looking at you as Vernon spoke as if nothing had happened. Dino was the last one to leave the door and complained "The movie is half-finished, can't you be surprised by this later?" When the others ignored him, he muttered a curse and went back to watch it alone. Kwan pursed his lips and folded his arms "So you weren't lying the whole time?" Vernon frowned in disbelief "Why would I lie about this?" And you guys tried to understand what he was saying by stealing glances at each other as Kwan continued to rant.
Once the strange event was over, you were invited to watch the rest of the movie. You were curled up on the couch with Vernon, your head on his chest. His hand was on your shoulder, he kissed your head, and still unused to this situation, the others exchanged strange glances. At least he wouldn’t be made fun of anymore, even if it was in a strange way.
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aihoshiino · 2 days ago
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chapter 166 thoughts
As of chapter 166, Oshi no Ko has finished a roughly four-and-a-half year run started back in 2020. While there's some speculation about an epilogue or some extra content in volume 16 when it drops, this is where the main story ends. And you know what that means!!!
OSHI NO KO HAS OFFICIALLY ENDED WITHOUT ADDRESSING OR ACKNOWLEDGING THE FACT THAT RUBY KISSED HER BROTHER IN CHAPTER 143
please understand that this is FUCKING BOGUS
I'll probably do a longer post on this subject specifically, but my main critique of 143 when the chapter dropped was that while I liked the individual beats in it and I was really glad to see Akasaka finally addressing this tension bubbling underneath Aqua and Ruby's relationship, the immediate swerve away from showing us the aftermath of that kiss felt to me like an admission that the story was going to needlessly draw this out even more. Now that the story has ended and we can see that moment had literally no impact on the plot or even the character dynamics, I'd like to revise that statement - it feels like an admission of compromise. It feels like crumbs thrown to AquRuby fans to tempt them to keep reading and to stir up the waters of the ship wars, so people would keep reading and stay invested in the manga right to the very end. But most of all, it feels deeply disrespectful to both Aqua and Ruby as characters. Rather than exploring their feelings and giving both of them interiority and complexity in relation to incest or even just fucking acknowledging that the kiss had happened and letting their dynamic evolve, the series just memory holes the entire event and asks that you do too. Rather than letting Ruby have any development whatsoever as pertains to that relationship or, god forbid, let a female character move on romantically from the male lead, the series ends with her feelings so up in the air that I literally could not tell you what she thinks of Aqua by the time he dies.
ANYWAY… FINAL CHAPTER. BREATHES OUT VERY HARD.
I really can't believe it's taken us until the final chapter to actually deal with Ruby's grief over Aqua lol. We got a snippet of it last chapter but it was so brief that it really just felt like a tease. I also just think it's kind of bizarre that we're spending this little time on Ruby having feelings about Aqua's death to the extent that I have no idea how or when she found out about it.
It's also kind of hard to feel particularly strongly about Ruby's grief when the chapter doesn't really bother to explore it all that much. It's just a montage of Ruby quite literally Screaming, Crying and Throwing Up while Akane dispassionately narrates it all. The art also doesn't really help in terms of connecting with the emotions at play - I usually really like Mengo's expression work and the way she depicts extreme emotions but this all just felt like of… I don't know how else to put it. Goofy??? Is that an insane thing to say about Ruby grieving her brother???
Idk, something about both the panelling and just the extreme on-the-noseness of Ruby, again, literally Screaming, Crying Throwing Up while she's wearing a Burning cosplay Just In Case You, The Audience, Didn't Get It only for her to abruptly be done crying with no exploration or insight as to what's going on in her head that allows her to move forward.
Honestly, this is kind of the issue with everyone in the cast. The resolution is just sort of "Aqua died and we were sad about it but then we stopped being sad". I know what the story is trying to go for here - it's trying to express that even when you're in pain, life goes on and so you have to find a way to go on with it. But the result is that we spend all this time oogling at their pain without spending equivalent or even meaningful time on their recovery process.
It feels both excessive and undercooked at the same time and I'm left with the same icky, voyeuristic feeling I got from Aqua's funeral last chapter. This should be the point in the story at which we empathize with Ruby the most, but she remains a frustratingly distant figure right to the final pages. Part of this is an unfortunate consequence of Akane's narration directing these final chapters meaning that we're hearing about Ruby from an outsider's perspective and thus don't really see what's going on in her head… but if I can be frank, this has been an issue of Aka's with Ruby in particular basically nonstop since chapter 123.
As others & myself have noted, despite the absolutely catastrophic downward spiral Ruby is in at that point, Aqua revealing himself as Gorou basically flips it all off like a switch. There's some mild lipservice paid to the idea that Ruby is just using her dependency on Gorou to prop herself up and it's pointed out that the issues that contributed to her breakdown haven't actually been resolved - but none of these issues are ever even acknowledged again, let alone resolved. So, functionally, that reveal does fix all Ruby's problems in the space of a single chapter and the result is, again, that we spend multiple chapters gourging on depictions of Ruby's absolute rock bottom only for her to ping back to normal like a lightswitch. As such, the depictions of her pain feel less like explorations of Ruby's interiority and more like voyeuristic oogling at Ruby's misery and trauma and the effect is that the resolution to it all is both unsatisfying and a little gross. The result is that it feels like Akasaka is just indulgently mining the imagery of cute girls suffering because it causes simple thoughts neuron activation but doesn't respect these girls enough as characters to build them back up.
It doesn't help that this is basically the in-universe excuse for Ruby's career further skyrocketing. Instead of Ruby becoming a star on her own merits as the story keeps insisting she was supposed to, she's artificially buoyed by the public's morbid fascination with her tragedy. If I was feeling charitable towards the story right now, I would say this is an avenue of intentional critique but… well, I don't feel super charitable about the story right now lol
I WILL say that the one part of this chapter I did just uncomplicatedly like was the beat of Mem trying to suspend activities (presumably in the wake of her grief for Aqua) only for Kana to basically immediately explode into her room and help her get back on her feet. It's a beat that would've been much more effective if we'd, you know, seen it, but I otherwise enjoyed it and I thought it was sweet.
But. pbbbbtttt. I guess I can't talk around it any longer… let's get into the Dome concert.
To start things off on the immediately worst note possible, Akane describes Ruby performing at the Dome as being 'everyone's dream', including Aqua's. I'm reminded once again of the strange turn the story took in insisting that um, actually, performing at the Dome was totes Ai's dream all along (even though she literally didn't give a shit even a week before she was due to perform there herself) so Ruby performing there is fulfilling that dream for her!!! and I can't help but wonder if this abrupt shift in focus is an attempt to make readers forget what Ai's actual dream was - to see her beloved children grow up happy and healthy. Hell, it wasn't even really Aqua's dream, until the story suddenly had to try and convince us that his entire purpose for existence was to kill himself so Ruby could be an idol for slightly longer than she would've otherwise. The only people whose dreams she's textually fulfilling are Ichigo and Miyako and Ruby herself, but…
Honestly, is this really Ruby's dream anymore?
Who is Hoshino Ruby? What does she want? Why does she want it? These should be the very least of what we can concretely say about not only a protagonist but a character who has become a central figure of the entire story as Ruby has, but with the way Oshi no Ko has warped and distorted her, I find myself increasingly unsure of what the story wants her to be or how I should answer those questions.What does Ruby feel about Aqua? Was she still in love with him? Had she moved on, romantically? Was she still waiting for a response to her confession? Did she finally realize it was probably kind of shitty to respond to her brother going "lowkey wanna kms" by sticking her tongue down his throat? I Guess We'll Never Know.
This extends to whatever the fuck Ruby's relationship with idols and being an idol is. Almost the entirety of Ruby's time in the story has been spent reiterating over and over that Ruby cannot just be an idol who imitates Ai and that to truly shine, she needs to step out of her mom's shadow and shine in her own way. Ruby even literally tells Kana in no uncertain terms in 137 - "I'll be a star in my own way. I won't be like Mama."
While this has always been the text of the story, as I've pointed out before, the actual art with which Ruby's idolhood depicts her basically just as Ai 2.0. It relies so heavily on mining the imagery of Ai's charisma and personality as an idol and using them as the measure of Ruby's success as an idol that Ruby essentially has no visual or conceptual identity of her own as an idol. She's just Ai, But Arbitrarily Better, For Reasons The Narrative Fails To Actually Establish But Hopes That You Just Accept Anyway. This was always kind of annoying, but now that friction seems to have been resolved by… just making her Ai 2.0, But Arbitrarily Better (etc, etc) in the text as well. The fact that we're given no further insight as to Ruby's feelings and continue to just have Akane Explain Ruby's Character Arc to the camera also doesn't help.
All this combines to make the Dome concert and the final few pages feel exceptionally cold in a way I really don't think was intended by Akasaka. Yes, that splash page was nice and flashy but… I just felt nothing. I have no idea if or why Ruby cares about this. And even though the Dome concert has been hyped up through the entire story as the peak of Ruby's achievements as an idol, I feel no sense of accomplishment in her finally being there - not just because her journey to it was basically sneezed at us across two panels, but because it just feels hollow as a victory lap for Ruby. Again, she feels so distant and abstracted as a character that I can't bring myself to feel very strongly about her good or bad.
I think the perfect encapsulation of this are the final four pages of the story. Ruby's words here are very clearly intended to be a callback to Ai's words to Gorou in chapter one but as @all-of-her-light pointed out in our initial discussions of the chapter, Ruby very much does not have an equivalent to Ai's conclusion that she nevertheless wants and values the opportunity to find personal happiness and fulfillment outside of being an idol. Are we supposed to believe that simply being an idol is all that Ruby needs to achieve a similar degree of happiness and fulfillment? Is there no more to her than that?
I've seen a lot of people interpret this ending as exceptionally bleak and, as usual, gleefully predicting Ruby's immanent suicide because her beloved oniichansensei isn't around but this is indulging in, if you'll allow me to be frank, some pretty transparently ship-motivated flanderization. Despite what certain sections of the fandom would like to believe, Aqua and Ruby's lives, past and current, have never revolved around each other to the exclusion of every other relationship in their life. Ruby has a massive support network of people who love and care for her and actively want her to get back on her feet. I can one hundred percent believe that she does not need Aqua in her life to be happy and content.
The issue is that we don't see enough of Ruby to understand that ourselves. Again, she has become such a distant figure with so little insight into what she's thinking and why that this ending is basically a Rorschach test in which you can interpret basically whatever the hell you want or assume because we have so little canon basis to support or debunk our assumptions.
and yes. don't think i didn't see them. it IS both grimly hilarious and weirdly tonally appropriate for this ending that ruby has a bunch of oshi goods of ai and aqua including their fucking autographs set up to say goodbye to every day.
AND…… WE'RE DONE!!! THAT'S OSHI NO KO, BABY!!!! well, technically, there's going to be a 20 page extra chapter in volume 16 but I don't see it being big or substantive enough to meaningfully change my feelings about the ending so… I guess we're leaving it here. Damn. Feels crazy to be done with it.
I'll probably do a bigger post down the line about my thoughts on the ending as a whole but in terms of just How This Chapter Made Me feel, I guess the word is just… meh! It's definitely not an ending I like and I think the execution is sloppy and rushed but I also just don't really have the energy to feel angry about it. Maybe that's sad in its own way but tbh… I still really love Oshi no Ko! I still find it engaging and I find the characters I enjoy rewarding to talk about. I like the artistry of the anime adaptation. I don't blame anybody else for being so turned off by this ending that they're done with the series but for me, I like what I like about OnK too much that this ending could retroactively ruin it for me. Whatever else happens with the OnK franchise, whatever directions the anime and live-action take, this will always be the series that gave me Ai and the Hoshino family and. look at me. look at what she's done to my brain. could I really ask for anything more than that?
That being said, I'm definitely not done with discussing the series! I have fics to write (including a VERY exciting large scale project lined up with some friends), my Ai analysis post to finish and I also want to do a re-read of the series and finish my anime rewatch. I'll be here to discuss Oshi no Ko as long as I have things to say about it and as long as you guys will have me! Despite how the series ended, I've had a genuinely wonderful experience in the fandom and I really don't want to let go of the little community we've built together just because the series is done. I'm Ai's fan for all eternity!!!
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goodlucktai · 1 day ago
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raised on little light (1/3)
rise of the tmnt word count: 2k pairing: leo & oc i've had this idea rattling around since the rise farewell comic earlier this year made it canon that the turtles had another brother and a sister floating around somewhere. we know who their sister is, so this is my take on that 5th brother. i hope you enjoy meeting him <3 big thank you to @soldrawss and @mykimouser for enabling my insane behavior (and thank you again to sol for drawing the art i included in this chapter!!!) title borrowed from northern attitude by noah kahan read on ao3
x
2020
Leo regretted his last words as soon as they left his mouth.
“Hero moves are totally your style”? As if Raph doesn’t have enough issues already.
But what he meant—what he would have tried to explain if there was time—was that Raph is his hero. He’s always been Leo’s hero. And if Leo could be anything like him, even for a second, even if it was the last thing he ever did, then he could be satisfied with that. 
It’s a silly thing to be stuck thinking about, laying on a torn up chunk of earth with a monster ominously lumbering somewhere below, looking for where it threw its toy. Laying there, feeling every bruise and broken bone, and hoping that he didn’t hurt his big brother’s feelings.
They’ll be okay, Leo thinks, trying to make it be the thing that gives him courage instead of just more homesickness. They’ll miss me, maybe for a long time, but they’ll be okay.
Leo’s supposed to be fighting for his life, but it’s all he can do to keep a grip on the photo in his hand, the only thing in this entire dimension worth holding onto. It’s all he can do to keep his eyes open when every blink is longer than the last. 
It feels like enough of a rebellion. The Krang looked annoyed that he was still breathing the last time it batted him through the void like a fly, which gives Leo the idea that he should probably be dead by now. He feels a detached sort of pride at how grown-up he’s being about all this. Better late than never
Leo waits for the Krang to come for him, dripping his blood and sneering his daddy’s nickname for him hatefully as it does, and hopes he made his family proud. 
Leo hopes he’ll go wherever Gram-gram is. It would be nice to know someone when he gets there. 
Movement in his periphery snags Leo’s attention. His brain starts throwing up warning flags, signaling danger—anything moving around in here is another parasite, or a Krang hound, nothing he’ll want to be sprawled out on a silver platter for—but he can’t summon any urgency. 
He turns his head and finds himself looking up at another turtle. 
It’s the very last thing he expected to see. They both just stare at each other for a moment. 
The newcomer appears to be a few years older than Leo, based on the broadness of their shoulders, and half a head taller. Their skin is more gray than green and their plastron is so pale it’s closer to white than yellow. Their carapace, what Leo can see of it, is a deep blue-black and they’re covered, skin and shell both, in white spots. Two of the spots on their face give the impression of eyebrows lowered in a glare, but they don’t seem angry at him.
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The turtle is completely unfamiliar to Leo, which is saying something. He thought he and his family had the monopoly on… this whole situation. 
Disquieted, Leo remembers that he’s supposed to be the only turtle here. That was a very significant part of the decision he’d made. 
It must be a hallucination, he decides, instantly comforted by his own reasoning. That makes sense. He just wished that if his mind was going to conjure him some dying company it could at least be someone he knows. An imaginary Mikey or Donnie or Raphie for one last hug. One last affectionate forehead bonk. An “I still love you,” if that wasn’t asking too much. 
Don’t you cry now, he scolds himself sternly when his eyes start to blur and burn. It’s not about you. 
With a resounding crash of metal against stone, the Krang finds them at last. He’s snarling something that Leo is too slow to piece together before he cuts himself off—surprising the hell out of Leonardo by acknowledging the hallucination. That’s not how that works. 
“Another pest ,” the Krang hisses. His serrated teeth glint when he draws his gummy lips back in an ugly smile. His tone is oily and unpleasant when he adds, “You’re less colorful than those other ones. I would have remembered seeing you. Where were you when your accomplices were fumbling about in my Technodrome like the stupid creatures they are?”
“We won,” Leo reminds the alien, even though it makes him cough. His lips are warm and wet now but he won’t think about why. “Blew up your ugly ship. Who looks stupid now?” 
“Shut your mouth!” the Krang roars, going from slimy to homicidal in about three seconds. Leo cringes, every ounce of animal instinct in his body urging him to hide in his shell and ride the rest of this nightmare out. 
The spotted turtle snaps, “Don’t talk to him.” 
It would have made sense if he was looking at Leo when he said it. Don’t engage, don’t bait the big monster that could kill you with as much effort as it takes you to blink, et cetera ad nauseum. If only he’d had a nickel for every time he heard that. 
But instead the turtle is looking at the Krang, and he’s radiating the kind of cold-blooded murder that you mostly only see in movies. He has one arm flung out in front of Leo like he actually means to use it to stop the Krang from getting any closer. 
“Don’t even look at him,” he goes on, sounding seconds away from baring his teeth. 
This guy is significantly unaware of the danger he’s facing, and Leo ought to warn him about what enormous clusterfuck he’d just wandered into. Leo ought to say he appreciates the reptile solidarity, but you should definitely run, new guy. 
But this probably isn’t actually happening outside of his own head. And besides, Leo has to focus really hard on his numb fingers so he doesn’t drop his photo. 
“I’ll look where I please,” the Krang says, as unbothered by the hallucination as he was by Leo’s entire family. “Starting with that fool head of yours. I’m interested in whatever backdoor led you here. If it’s my way out, well —”
Adrenaline surges through Leo, and he’s hardly aware of moving before he’s lurching up and shouting out, “No!” 
He can’t get out, he can’t. Leonardo won’t be able to trick him again. He won’t be there to help this time. 
“I do have one thing for you,” the spotted turtle interrupts to say, reaching over his shoulder for what turns out to be a compound crossbow strapped to his back. 
Leo doesn’t know a lot about archery so it’s weird his fictional turtle does, crank-cocking the weapon like it’s an extension of his arm. He watches cluelessly as the turtle slides something very purple out of his jacket pocket and notches it into the groove where the bolts are supposed to go. It’s definitely not a bolt, but it’s a piercing-type projectile of some kind, and it fits in the crossbow like it was designed with crossbows in mind. 
The turtle aims the bow at the Krang, who clicks the claws of his metal suit on the ground the way Splinter would drum his fingers on the kitchen counter when he was waiting on the microwave. The Krang looks condescending and mildly curious, like he’s watching dumb little animals do something they’re not trained to do. 
“He told me to tell you he’s sorry he couldn’t be here to see this part,” the spotted turtle says, and then shoots without a second of hesitation or unnecessary dramatics. 
The Krang bats the projectile away, or tries to, but it explodes on contact with his armor, and suddenly all Leo can smell is burning metal. Then burning meat. 
The Krang begins to scream, clawing at something defiantly purple with a mind of its own that eats straight through him the effortless, immediate way corrosive acid chews through soft tissue. It moves like nanotech, covering as much of the Krang as possible in a manner of seconds and clearly designed to consume whatever it touches like a school of cartoon piranhas. 
Donnie would love it, color scheme and all. 
The Krang stumbles drunkenly, howling like a creature possessed, and Leo and his turtle companion both watch silently until he tips over the edge of the hunk of torn earth they’re on. Gravity is nonexistent in this dimension, so he doesn’t so much fall as sort of drift in another direction while he’s distracted with the purple stuff that’s doing its best to eat him alive. 
The last handful of minutes have been so bizarre that it’s actually going pretty far in convincing Leo that none of it happened for real. The Krang hasn’t actually found him yet. This is clearly a dream. Or a pre-death electrical storm as the neurons in his brain fire up to fizzle out.  
He tips his head to the side again to stare up at the archer, who is putting his bow away with perfect confidence that whatever that purple thing was, it will do the job. 
“Who are you?” Leo asks stupidly. 
“Gio,” the probably imaginary turtle replies.
Leo’s mouth runs off before he can stop it. “Just Gio? Like Cher?”
God, he thinks. That was stupid, Leo. Not the time or place, Leo. You’re in the prison dimension. You’re dying here and you can’t even cut the jokes now? Raph was so right about you.
But the imaginary turtle surprises him by smiling slightly, the corners of his mouth pulling just barely upwards in a way that somehow completely transforms him. Not the time or place for jokes or smiling at them but here they are. Like company.
“Giorgio Hamato,” ‘Gio’ says. That lands in Leo’s ears as something remarkably worth making a lot of noise over, but he can’t begin to unpack it. And after a second, he forgets what the remarkable part was. His mind is a deck of cards that got shuffled too enthusiastically and ended up scattered all over the floor. Gio doesn’t seem to mind when Leo just blinks at him, adding, “I’m here to take you home.”  
“Pretty sure Uber doesn’t come out this far,” Leo mumbles, the words a paint smear, all thick and wet and muddy. One of his teeth feels broken and it’s keeping him awake, a blistering ache that cracks through the back of his mouth like lightning. “And I’ve got, like, zero bars.”
This is how I cope, he thinks, watching the bigger turtle absorb the second bad joke in as many minutes. Leo’s blinking fast so he doesn’t cry. He’s trying to focus on anything but the pain radiating through his whole body, and the swallowing darkness all around him, and the ruins of ancient metal ships looming where they float unrestricted by gravity, and the ballistic howls of a pissed-off pink alien still dealing with whatever the heck this Gio guy did to him.
He can’t focus on any of that because all of that is scary and he’s already terrified. He needs to not be terrified because he doesn’t want to be that kind of ghost when he haunts his family. He wants to be the friendly, funny kind, the kind that gets to stay at the end of the movie, the kind that will make silly faces at Mikey so he doesn’t get scared, and leave sticky notes for Donnie to remember to charge his phone and drink enough water, and cover Raphie with an extra blanket while he’s asleep because it gets cold at night but he always leaves his bedroom door open for them.
If Leo’s friendly and funny, if he helps, he’ll get to stay. He didn’t get to stay the first time, so this time he has to make it stick.
Larger hands wrap around his. It doesn’t register for a second, and then it does in a big way.
Leo jerks his head up. Moving just that much hurts like his ribs are broken all the way down and the bones in his leg have all melted into liquid agony, but it clears some of the fog away.
Someone is holding his hands in the prison dimension.
An alien like the Krang wouldn’t know the first thing about the human gesture, the togetherness of it, so it’s not some mean trick that’s being played. And it can’t be an imaginary turtle that Leo dreamed up, after all, because kindness would be the last thing he’d give himself.
Possibly very real Gio says, “Fuck Uber. Whatever that is. And don’t repeat that word.”
The punchy breath Leo chokes in is going to punch out again as a laugh or a sob. Leo squeezes the bigger turtle’s hands, photo crinkling between them, suddenly tethered to something in this void and hysterically certain that he’ll die for real if Gio lets go.
“I’m sixteen.” Leo’s voice wobbles. He doesn’t know what to react to first. He doesn’t understand how this is happening. He holds on. “I can say the fuck word if I want to, I’m practically an adult.”
Gio’s face does something it hurts to look at. His eyes are dark and sincere, the shape of them entirely familiar. There’s a warmth inside him that permeates the gloom. A star belonging to a much larger galaxy, but more significantly, belonging to the same crooked constellation Leo belongs to.
I know you, he thinks, surprised by the truth of it. I do. Where have you been?
“We’re going home,” Gio says, the certainty in his voice like one of those huge stones a river parts around, unmoved by the currents and crashing water. “I know the way out. Don’t worry about it. Close your eyes.”   
The worst thing that could happen has already happened, Leo thinks. There’s no reason not to trust him. There’s nothing left to lose. He closes his eyes.
He feels himself drawn in, tucked against the built-in armor of a turtle chest, head resting on a broad shoulder. He’s been carried like this a million times before. He didn’t think it would happen again. Somewhere along the line, he’d been picked up for the last time and put down for the last time, and now he’s here, where no one who loves him can reach him, to scoop him up when he falls asleep on the sofa and take him to bed.
But Gio lifts him up like he’s still a kid. The Krang is bellowing hateful promises in between the grating shrieks of pain, promises of what he’ll do when he gets his hands on Leo, but all of that is far away. 
Leo isn’t afraid anymore. He isn’t going to be a ghost.
He’s pretty sure he’s going home.   
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water-to-drink · 2 days ago
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How They Became Attracted to You
(Characters): Al haitham, Ayaka, Kaeya, Chiori
(Synopsis): First meetings with the most popular or influential students at the academy
(Tags/Warnings): gn!reader, reader is an artist, school au, reader is a transfer student, possible ooc Chiori, (if I missed something lmk)
(Word Count): 1.4k
(A/n): If you all like this then I’ll make a part two, just tell me which characters you want to see
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🦅Al haitham🦅
🦅 The first and only one to best him in a test, a geometry test to be specific. He only came in at 99% while you come in at a perfect 100%
🦅 At first refused to believe that a mere art nerd could get a better score than him and so with as much delicacy as a bull in a china shop Al haitham came up to you and asked you how you got your score
🦅 Being randomly approached by the school’s smartest student you were very nervous and told him that you just did what you learned from class. Seeing that you won’t give him the answer he asks for you to tutor him which you agreed to go it, mostly because you were very nervous under his sharp gaze
🦅 While tutoring it became apparent that you sucked at explaining things to him, don’t get him wrong he already knows the material he just wants to know how and why you got a 100. As these sessions went Al haitham saw how your hands would glide across the paper, the delicacy almost amazed him
🦅 Slowly but surely Al haitham realized that there was more to your shy exterior. You were sassy and quick witted, you could even match his intellect on many topics, he finds himself feeling that he on an equal level with you.
🦅 Now he looks forward to your tutoring sessions, recently you two won’t do any tutoring just do your homework and talk about anything on your mind, the same mind that he finds so interesting and beautiful
🪭Ayaka Kamisato 🪭
🪭 The two of you have seen each other in the hallway before and after classes. She would always see you with a sketchbook in your hands or drawing in it. You didn’t take up too much real estate in her mind, the poor girl has too much going on as the daughter of the Kamisato family. That was until one day where Ayaka was leaving cram school and her chauffeur was stuck in traffic, she was approached by an older man
“What’s a girl like you doing out so late?”
“I’m leaving cram school, sir.”
“Cram school? You kids work so hard, I can show you a good time.”
“Uh, no thank you, sir.”
“C’mon, don’t be so stuck up, live a little-”
“What’s the problem?!”
🪭 There you are, yelling at the top of your lungs, she can tell that you’re scared but you still yell drawing more attention to yourself and the creep in question. Once a lot of people are watching the scene the creep walks off leaving you and her alone
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I am. I’m sorry that you had to step in.” Ayaka bows her head
“Don’t worry, I saw that you were uncomfortable so I decided to step in. See you around.” You waved goodbye as you walked off and her chauffeur pulled up
🪭 Later Ayaka came to learn that you didn’t know of the prestige that came with the Kamisato name. You came up and scared off the guy of your own volition, thinking that she was just an ordinary girl who needed to be rescued and that is what she’ll continue being to you
🪭 It wouldn’t be hard since you two are in different grades, you being her senior by a year. You would both meet up in a quiet cafe you work at, she learned that it was your family’s business and work there to help your family and to earn some pocket money. The two of you got so close that you even let her look through your sketchbook and Ayaka was amazed by your skills
🪭 When you offered to draw a portrait of her she jumped at the offer. So one day at your family’s cafe you presented her a drawing of her. You drew her as a swordswoman dressed in traditional Japanese clothing and armor, she profusely thanked you and framed it the moment she got home
🪭 There are some nights where if she can’t sleep mainly because of nerves she’ll take your drawing and look at it, thinking about you would quell her anxiety and give her the best of dreams. Just don’t tell her brother, she’s afraid he’ll scare you off
❄️Kaeya❄️
❄️ Is the complete opposite of his adopted brother, he’s known as the school’s flirt and a total playboy. He makes girls and guys alike go head over heels for him, and you, the new transfer student, is on his radar
❄️ He lives for making innocent things like you into a flustered little mess. So when he sauntered over to you and threw his usual flirty remarks, he wasn’t met with a sheepish face nor an oblivious one. No he was met with a look of disgust
❄️ Without saying anything you walked away from him, leaving him bewildered. Did he do something wrong? Everyone falls for him. Refusing to take this laying down Kaeya decides to find out why weren’t you under his spell
❄️ And so he began to make an attempt to learn more about you, your likes and your dislikes, or your hobbies. At first you would just ignore him when he would try to strike up a conversation and after a few weeks he decided to make a deal with you
“Are you serious?” You asked
“Dead serious. We’ll act as friends and if you still can’t stand me in 2 months, then we’ll stop. Does that sound good?”
“Only if you promise to leave me alone after?”
“If you still can’t stand me.” Kaeya threw his signature smirk
“Ugh fine! But no flirting!”
“I make no promises~”
❄️ The two of you tried to act as friends, before it was awkward but soon you got used to his presence and you slowly began to come out of your shell, finally showing your true colors after about 3 weeks of “friendship”
❄️ Kaeya finds himself laughing at your jokes, actually laughing and not the fake laugh he would do when he’s trying to fuck somebody. Now Kaeya’s heart thumps whenever you would laugh at something or wave at him in the hallway. Oh gods, is he in love?!
❄️ He wishes he didn’t have the reputation he has, he wants more than your body, he wants your heart
🪡Chiori🪡
🪡 The president of the sewing club. Chiori and her club members have made various designs, many of them for the theater group whenever they’re putting on a performance. However the best designers have their slow movements, not being able to come up with any designs that are up to their standards. That is what plaguing Chiori
🪡 One day she finds a random sketchbook in the sewing club. Curiosity getting the best of the young seamstress she flips through the book, there she sees the most beautiful character designs, the obvious inspiration from big names like Chanel, Gucci, and Thierry Mugler, but the person who made these designs are unique to them. It all gives Chiori a surge of inspiration
🪡 Immediately she opens up her own sketchbook and begins drafting up some designs, some are amazing but others don’t compare to the designs in the mysterious sketchbook she found. She must find the person who made this
🪡 She hears the door opening and when she turns her head, she sees you looking a bit embarrassed.
“Uh, I left my sketchbook here, have you seen it?”
“Yes, I have.” Chiori picks up the book and hands it to you. “I looked through it.”
“Wait, what?!”
“And I like what I saw, can I make the designs in this book?”
🪡 So every Tuesday you would go to the sewing club and let Chiori bring life to your designs, the two of you would talk about various fashion styles and designers. Chiori is very impressed by your vast knowledge on how different styles and cultures arose, she might even say it rivals her knowledge (but she won’t)
🪡 The more time you two spend together the more Chiori likes you, she would look forward to your presence right next to her talking her ear off about your characters as she worked. Normally she would play music but the sound of you rambling is more than enough for her
🪡 In the privacy of her room Chiori would often find herself drawing up designs for wedding garments for her and yours wedding, she can’t wait for the day you to call her “my wife”
102 notes · View notes
megalony · 15 hours ago
Text
Second Chances
Hi, so this is my first Bobby Nash x reader imagine, thank you to the amazing anon who sent in this idea. I had such fun writing this and I hope you will all like it.
Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17
@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10
Evan Buckley Masterlist
Eddie Diaz Masterlist
Summary: Bobby feels like his relationship with (Y/n) is a second chance at happiness. Even though she is younger than him, and sometimes he worries he is holding her back. But then things progress further.
Enjoy.
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When Bobby propped his feet up on the coffee table, a smile tugged at (Y/n)'s lips and she shifted around too. She shuffled down the sofa a bit so she was slouched down with her legs curled beneath her and her feet pressing into the arm of the sofa.
Both hands moved to curl around Bobby's arm and her cheek fell to rest on his shoulder.
The movie playing on the tv was good, it was entertaining enough, but it didn't hold (Y/n)'s entire focus. Her attention was split between the movie and the person sitting next to her. She wasn't sure why Bobby kept stealing her attention, it wasn't as if he had been gone for days or even weeks. He had been gone for little over twelve hours while he had been at work, and she was used to it.
She was with the Captain of the station, Bobby had to do extra shifts. He had paperwork to sort and file, leave to approve and deny, rotas to sort out and shifts to cover. His job was demanding and (Y/n) was used to his time needing to be split.
Maybe it was just because he was home.
That sounded strangely wonderful. Home. Home was where Bobby was. It didn't mean the house where she used to live with her sister when she moved to LA. It didn't mean that odd, vacant flat that had felt horrible to come home to when she lived on her own.
Home didn't mean spending evenings alone or turning all the lamps on so it felt warm instead of odd and deafeningly quiet.
It meant being here with Bobby. It wasn't a case of finding out in advance what shifts he was working so they knew when they could spend days together or stay over at each other's places. It wasn't a case of messaging him when she was alone and he was at work or when they were both in separate homes and separate beds.
Knowing there was someone else to come home to or who was waiting at home for her made (Y/n) feel alive. It made her feel safe and complete and like she wasn't alone anymore.
Tilting her head down a little, (Y/n) attached her lips to Bobby's shoulder and began gliding her fingers up and down his arm like she was drawing patterns and secret messages into his skin. She knew he was smiling when she felt him kiss the top of her head and she wondered if his attention was fully on the movie or if his mind was wandering too.
"Can I ask you something?"
(Y/n) bit back the urge to tell him that he just did and settled for nodding against his shoulder.
She leaned her head back so her chin was pressing down into his shoulder and her head was at an angle so she could look up at him. Bobby seemed to debate whether or not to look at her as he spoke or keep his eyes on the screen. He settled for inclining his head in her direction but she was sure his eyes were focusing on her lips rather than her gaze while he spoke.
"Do you ever think you're missing out?" His question was so odd and out of place that a quirky smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips.
"On what?"
What was she supposed to be missing out on? What had he been thinking about to make him ask something like that? Had (Y/n) missed something here about where this conversation was leading?
"Life, in general? Doing things, rather than being here with me?"
The smile that had graced (Y/n)'s lips faded when Bobby's words registered with her and she realised where he was trying to go with this conversation.
Her head lifted from his shoulder and she switched positions so she wasn't sitting with her legs curled beneath her anymore. She moved to drape her legs across Bobby's lap which made him raise a brow and grin, despite the nerves about where this conversation was going to lead them.
He watched curiously as (Y/n) let go of his arm so she could fold her arms across her chest. And the way she sank back into the sofa made Bobby raise a brow. She looked like she was making a statement; making herself comfortable and cosy as if to prove that this was where she was, where she wanted to be, and she wouldn't be moving from this spot anytime soon.
"No."
"You're sure?"
(Y/n) couldn't quite comprehend how Bobby could be so calm while he was leading them down this road.
This wasn't the kind of conversation she wanted to have because it wasn't something she often found herself thinking about. This kind of thing didn't bother her.
Sure, they'd had a few ups and downs in the beginning. Bobby certainly didn't look his age, but it was clear that he was older than (Y/n). Not a lot of people cared or made clear judgements, but (Y/n) knew it was something Bobby thought about from time to time. He couldn't seem to grasp that they were both in the same place in their lives despite the age difference that suggested they should be at different stages.
The age didn't matter to (Y/n), not one bit. She loved Bobby and she wanted to be with him; as long as he felt the same then age was just a number and time felt like a fantasy.
"Yes… what do you think I should be doing?" She couldn't help but ask because she was curious.
(Y/n) wondered what it was Bobby thought she was missing out on and what he thought she should be doing to better spend her time than being here in their home. Than being with him.
"I don't know… going out, dating, finding yourself. A normal life."
The way Bobby waved his hand as he spoke made it sound so passing, so fleeting and (Y/n) couldn't help how her smile faded and her head pressed further back into the sofa. Her arms dropped from her chest and she reached back out to curl them back around Bobby's arm. When she gave a small tug, he loosened his arm and let her drag him across until his arm was across her chest and his hand curled around her thigh.
"This is my life, right here. With you." The sincere tone to her words seemed to catch Bobby off guard and his head twisted to look down at her.
The way his brows rose in surprise worried (Y/n) because she wondered if he truly believed those thoughts. If he believed she should be somewhere else, that she wanted to be somewhere else.
(Y/n) wasn't a lost soul needing guidance, she didn't need to go in search of her missing pieces. Every part of her was here and all of her was screaming any time she wasn't with Bobby. This is where she felt at peace, this was her home where she wanted to be and (Y/n) was very happy with that.
She didn't want to go out dating people when she had someone she loved and someone who clearly loved her right down to her bones.
Why wasn't this life normal? If no one knew about the age difference, if no one asked or bothered to think about it, then their lives would still be normal.
So what if (Y/n) hadn't dated hundreds of people before she got with Bobby? So what if he had a family before he met her? Everyone had different tappestries woven into their lives, this was no different.
"You're really happy with this, with me?" The apprehension in his voice sent a dagger piercing through (Y/n)'s ribs, trying to reach her heart.
"There's nowhere else I want to be; and no one else I want to be with, Bobby."
If she wasn't happy, she wouldn't be here. (Y/n) wouldn't of agreed to move in if she didn't think that their relationship was going to last. If she wasn't truly happy (Y/n) would of kept her apartment as a safety net in case things went wrong or if she didn't see this as a forever thing. But she had moved in with Bobby as soon as he asked because it was what she wanted to do.
(Y/n) didn't want to go out looking for people to 'have a good time with'. Her version of a good time was being with Bobby. Whether that meant going out for a meal, or staying in like tonight and watching a movie, or going to meet his team and spending an afternoon with them. Whatever they did together was (Y/n)'s version of a good time.
This is what she wanted and she needed Bobby to see that because she didn't want him to feel insecure when he had no reason to be. He wasn't forcing her to stay home with him or holding her back from anything. In fact, it was the opposite. Bobby was the driving force behind almost everything (Y/n) did.
The way he smiled down at her made (Y/n)'s heart soar and she couldn't help but lean her chest into his arm so she could reach her hand out to cup his face. Her fingers cradled his cheek and her thumb brushed along his cheekbone as she stared lovingly up at him before pulling him down to her for a kiss.
She loved the way his hand tightened around her thigh and how he leaned into her, almost pressing her back into the sofa with a new sense of eagerness.
"Good, because I was thinking…" His words whispered against her lips as he rested his temple against hers. "I don't- I didn't have anyone to put as my emergency contact at work, if something ever happened to me. But maybe now it's time to add a name, to add you."
"Really?"
(Y/n) wasn't sure she had ever been anyone's emergency contact before. She had never been serious enough with anyone to be added as their contact at work. And she had never dated anyone with a job that meant they were more likely to be involved in accidents or incidents. Being an emergency contact always seemed like a far-fetched scenario, something that might never happen.
But in Bobby's line of work, it was something that was needed. If he went to hospital for any reason, who would they call? Who was close enough to him to come and visit and make sure he was okay and take him home?
Bobby had never added anyone before because the only people he was close to were his team. If something happened to Bobby while he was on the job, his team would be there with him so he had no reason to add any of them as his contact.
(Y/n) changed things. She lived with him now. She was his partner and he loved her. If something happened, Bobby would want (Y/n) there by his side, he could be calm in any situation, but having someone there with him to hold his hand and make everything feel okay was something he hadn't had in such a long time. It was something he wanted; something he needed.
"Really." He murmured quietly and he was unable to stop himself from smiling when he leaned across and stole a kiss from her lips.
When he kissed her again, (Y/n) moved her other hand so both hands were cupping his face. Her thumbs stroked across his cheekbones and she held him at bay just long enough to arch a brow and catch him with a serious look before he stole another kiss.
"This doesn't mean you start getting into trouble though. I'm thrilled to be your emergency number, but I don't exactly dream of getting that kind of call, you know."
(Y/n) was overwhelmed and delighted to be important enough to Bobby that he would add her to his file at work. That he would allow his colleagues to ring her and ask her down to the station or to the hospital if anything was ever wrong. But she didn't want this to mean she started getting lots of phone calls like that.
Those weren't the kind of phone calls (Y/n) dreamed or longed to have and so far, Bobby had done well not to get into serious trouble or accidents at work. She would love for him to keep up that winning streak so this formality, this precaution, never had to be put to use.
She loved the way his eyes clouded over and he flashed her that smile that made her knees weak as he swooped in and stole her lips again.
"Deal."
Running his hand along his face, Bobby took a deep breath before he clicked the save button on the computer.
There it was, in black and white. There was (Y/n)'s name, typed up in the contact information on Bobby's file. There was her number beneath that and their shared address in the bottom column.
And right there, right at the end after it said relationship in italics, was the word Partner.
That was all he needed to add. That was all anyone needed to see if Bobby ever got into an emergency so they knew who to call and who he would want there by his side. He would want (Y/n), because she was his girl, the person he went home to after every shift. The person he loved.
He clicked off the file before he looked down at the paper form in his hands. Computer forms were safer, they were backed up and saved and there was a copy on the personell file at headquarters. It was there for everybody to find in an emergency. But that didn't mean that they didn't have paper copies too. Copies to keep in the filing cabinet so if something happened, the shift lead could look through and call whoever was down as the emergency contact.
Bobby neatly added (Y/n)'s name at the bottom section of his own paperwork that had been filled out by his hand over five years ago. Paperwork that had always remained blank since he moved to LA. Paperwork that always used to make him tear up and lose his ability to breathe.
He didn't feel like that anymore. He felt like he could breathe in relief, that he could smile and not be covered in crawling, itching powder that made him think he was drowning in guilt and grief.
He could move on and be with someone else and he didn't have to feel guilty about that. He hadn't done anything wrong.
Once the paperwork was filled out, Bobby put his file away in the cabinet and locked the drawer before he turned on his heels and clamped his hands down on his hips.
Now that he had made that milestone, it was time for the next one. Time to ask the team if they wanted to come round to his and (Y/n)'s place at the weekend. It was about time Bobby introduced them to the person who had been making him smile so much recently. He knew his team well enough by now to know that none of them were going to judge and he didn't have anything to worry about, as far as they were concerned.
He didn't have to worry.
***
(Y/n) felt like she couldn't breathe when she walked into the station. She could feel her chest tightening to the point it was as if she had an elastic band snapped tight around her chest and it was about to snap.
She hadn't been to the station that many times, and each time, Bobby had brought her down. She had never turned up on her own before and it almost felt like she was intruding. Bobby told her she could come down any time she liked, he said they encouraged families to come down and see them and have a drink and a chat, granted as long as they weren't about to rush out on a big call.
But (Y/n) still felt like turning up unannounced was somehow rude of her and that the team might not appreciate it.
"Hey (Y/n)."
Her head quickly twisted to the right and she managed a smile when she saw Buck heading her way. He had a tea towel tossed over his shoulder implying he had been up in the kitchen. (Y/n) knew Bobby had been teaching him how to cook lately; Buck seemed the only one interested in cooking, everyone else was more than happy for Bobby to cook for them.
"Hi."
"You looking for Bobby?" When she nodded, Buck looked over his shoulder and hollered "Cap!" and waved his hand to the the side. He gave her shoulder a squeeze as he walked past her when they both saw Bobby aiming their way.
(Y/n) could feel the nerves igniting in her stomach and fluttering up to her chest when her eyes set on Bobby. That charming smile made the butterflies amplify and she felt like her head was going to implode with all the thoughts rushing round in her mind.
She tried her best not to let the nerves get to her smile when Bobby reached out for her. She let herself melt into his hold when his hands found her hips and his thumbs began stroking up and down her sides in a soothing motion that (Y/n) found herself focusing on instead. She pushed up on her toes to kiss him and gave his shoulders a squeeze.
"Hey, everything okay?" Bobby's head tilted to the side as he looked down at her and tried to gage her expression.
She never said she was stopping by today and as much as Bobby loved people dropping in, it wasn't something (Y/n) was accustomed to doing. He hoped she was here for a friendly visit and not because something was wrong or she was nervous about something.
He relaxed a little when (Y/n) stole another kiss and he felt her hand move to cup the side of his neck as she nodded.
"Yeah, yeah, just wondered if you had a moment to talk."
Bobby couldn't help the way he shivered when (Y/n)'s hand tickled down the side of his neck and across his chest. If she wanted to talk he was more than willing to take her into the office and find out what had brought her down here.
"Sure." Bobby dropped his hands from (Y/n)'s waist so he could take her hand in his. He did a quick sweep of the station, but everyone was busy with their own tasks which meant he was fine to head into the office for a while.
He tugged on her hand and led the way through the station towards the corridor at the end. It made him smile when he felt (Y/n)'s free hand curling around his arm and he loved the way she pressed up into him as she walked right beside him. With her lips and nose pressing into his bicep, (Y/n) inhaled his scent and her breaths fanned softly into his shirt as Bobby led her into his office at the end of the corridor.
When they reached the office, Bobby motioned towards the chair in front of his desk but (Y/n) shook her head. She didn't want to sit down. That would make this feel formal, as if she were here for an interview.
She chose to lean her hips back against the desk instead and slump her bag down on the desk so it wasn't weighing down on her shoulder anymore. Her relaxed stance made Bobby smile curiously at her and he stood in front of her, close enough that he was practically stood between her legs.
He reached out so his right hand was on the desk right beside (Y/n)'s hip while his other hand held his waist. The way he looked down at her made shivers course up and down (Y/n)'s spine and she tilted her head back so she was looking up at him.
"To what do I owe this visit?" He hummed quietly while he leaned across and pecked her temple.
"Here."
Bobby was a little more than surprised when (Y/n) reached into her bag and then held out a small black box towards his chest.
He wasn't sure what he'd done to be given a gift. Today wasn't anything special, Bobby was good with dates and he knew nothing had been written on the calendar today.
He pushed off the desk so he was back on his feet properly and gratefully took the box. Curiosity burned in his eyes as he removed the lid to see what he was being handed.
Anxiety started to well up in (Y/n)'s stomach again and she moved her hands behind her to grip the counter so she could keep herself steady. She felt so anxious and unbalanced that if she didn't hold onto something, (Y/n) was sure she was going to melt into a puddle on the floor. Her teeth sank down into her lower lip tight enough to make her breath hitch in her throat and her eyes followed Bobby as he took out the keychain.
She hadn't known what to get to break the news. Somehow it didn't feel right to just blurt the news out and (Y/n) didn't know if she'd have the nerve to tell Bobby outright. She wanted to find a way to tell him, something sweet to try and show that this wasn't a bad thing.
Her eyes tried to read Bobby's expression and see what he was thinking, but he looked oddly blank. He wasn't smiling, he wasn't frowning or shaking his head or raising a brow or sighing.
He wasn't doing anything.
He had the small square box in one hand and the keyring in the other with his thumb periodically stroking across the inscription on the front. (Y/n) had seen the keyring when she had been out and thought it was rather fitting; something told her she had to get it, she couldn't just walk past. Almost like fate.
Bobby felt like he had been cast under a spell. All he could do was stare at the silver heart in his hand that read 'Our Little Love' in the centre.
Somehow, it felt as if the keychain had magically transferred into Bobby's system. It felt like that keychain was a heart of stone, slowly but surely sinking down into the pit of his stomach.
It didn't take much for Bobby to read (Y/n)'s expression. The worry in her eyes, the tepid, anxious smile on her lips. The way her fingers were tapping on the desk and the way she kept darting her eyes around the office. And the moment Bobby slowly dragged his eyes down to her stomach and then back up again, he could of cried. The look in her eyes said it all.
"You're pregnant."
(Y/n) found the will to nod, but she didn't know what to do. She wanted to reach out for Bobby. She wanted to take his hand and wrap her arms around him and lean into him and try to see what was going through his mind, but she couldn't. She didn't have the willpower to move from where she was resting against the desk. Moving felt too nerve-wrecking.
This wasn't exactly planned, and this wasn't something they had talked about. Of course, (Y/n) knew all about Bobby's past. She knew about his family, about Marcy and the kids and what happened. She knew Bobby had taken time and done a lot of work to come to terms with what happened and the guilt he had carried around with him.
Knowing he was comfortable enough with her and loved her enough to talk about his family and tell her when he was feeling low made (Y/n)'s heart soar. She was glad he trusted her.
But the subject of kids never seemed to happen.
Deep down, (Y/n) had been praying that Bobby would be happy about this. She wanted him to smile or cry or just say that this was a good thing. This was a piece of each of them. This was a family of their own, a baby.
(Y/n) loved Bobby, she loved him more than anything in the world and she could just imagine him with their baby. She knew he would be amazing, he had loved being a dad when he was with Marcy, despite how different that had been and how things had played out.
"Bobby, say something." The hitch in her voice made (Y/n) roll her lips together and she found the will to push off the desk.
She shakily reached out and curled her hand around his wrist, stepping closer until she was almost pressed up into his chest. He had to say something. He had to give her some kind of inkling as to what was running through his head right now. (Y/n) had to know his initial thoughts on this and what this meant to him. For him. For them.
"This… this, this is big."
Tipping her head down, (Y/n) brushed her hand beneath her eyes to wipe away the tears that were starting to fall.
That was all she needed to hear to know what Bobby thought about this. He was overwhelmed. He was becoming riddled with anxiety and as much as (Y/n) wanted to be mad about it, she couldn't. She knew there was a big, big chance that Bobby wouldn't react well to this news but (Y/n) had prayed that he would be okay with this.
She took a step back and moved both hands to run up and down her face to try and gather her senses and calm herself down.
(Y/n) waited another minute to see if Bobby would say anything else, but all he seemed to do was stare down at the keyring. The lack of a proper response made (Y/n) tighten her hand around his wrist until she was almost cutting off his circulation, but he didn't seem to notice at all.
"I- I shouldn't have come here." Her hand released from Bobby's wrist to cover her mouth and she hooked her bag back on her shoulder so she could weave around him.
She didn't want to stand in this office and burst into tears. She would rather go and wallow at home and let this news sink in for Bobby. She should have waited. She should have told him later, but (Y/n) had been too nervous to wait around once she found out. And she had been begging, praying and relying on the slither of hope that Bobby might just react happily to this to will herself to come here today.
It had clearly been the wrong choice.
Bobby finally snapped out of his trance and set the keyring and box down on the desk before he turned in (Y/n)'s direction.
"Hey, I'm happy about this."
The way he whispered the words and kept darting his eyes around his own office made (Y/n) smile sadly. She shook her head, smothering a broken laugh with the palm of her hand.
"Somehow I don't think you'd have to convince me if that were true."
If Bobby were truly happy about this, he wouldn't need to convince her. He wouldn't have to reassure (Y/n) that this is what he wanted. She would see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. But all she could see was wallowing anxiety and pain. The exact opposite of what she needed to hear to convince her that Bobby wanted this baby.
"(Y/n)- (Y/n) please." Her name growled past his lips and he set off into a sprint when she left the office.
He didn't want her to leave. She couldn't drop a bombshell like that and then leave. They needed to talk. Bobby needed her to stay, he needed to think and talk and work out what this meant and what they were going to do about this. Bobby couldn't finish the rest of his shift with this news playing on his mind, it was going to distract him and in his line of work he couldn't afford distractions.
He hurried after her just as (Y/n) walked out the corridor and onto the station floor.
Before he could think about it, Bobby grabbed her wrist and reeled her back towards him. When she stumbled over her feet, he stepped closer so she tumbled into his chest and his other hand planted shakily on her waist to steady her and stop her from walking away.
He hated the tears that were welling up in her eyes and the way she pressed her shaking hand into his chest made his heart tremble.
"I'm gonna go. I'll see you at home."
He didn't respond quick enough. He didn't know what to say because nothing was coming to mind. All Bobby could focus on was the fact that he was being given a second chance. Another chance to ruin another life; two lives if he included (Y/n).
The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her but that was what was going to happen, he could see it.
(Y/n) brushed both hands across her face and shook her head to try and calm herself down. She could feel her arms trembling and her hands stayed covering her mouth as she tried to stop herself from crying. She didn't want to cry here, in front of the team. She was just starting to get to know them and make friends with the people Bobby worked with, crying in front of them wouldn't help at all.
"Are you okay?"
She almost jumped when Hen reached out and placed a careful, tender hand on her shoulder just before (Y/n) got to the station doors.
"Fine, fine." She managed to nod her head, even though she knew her expression was anything but convincing. She didn't want to talk to anyone. The only person she needed to talk to was Bobby, and he seemed to have lost the ability to speak.
***
Both Bobby's hands began to tap against his hips in tandem with his boot that was thudding against the laminate floor. He could feel his jaw beginning to grind when (Y/n) turned her back on him; again.
They needed to talk.
She had barely spoken a word to him since he came home and although Bobby knew he deserved it, he couldn't stand the silence. They had to talk about this, the air needed to be cleared and he had been stewing all afternoon on what he wanted to say and how to try and broach the subject with her.
Bobby had left work early, he hadn't been able to finish his paperwork, he couldn't keep his mind on the job and all the team had seen the way he was drifting when they were trying to work. And he knew the team had seen (Y/n) disappear in a wave of tears. They knew something had been wrong and they had felt the tension in the air.
It wasn't normal for their Captain not to talk to them and Bobby had only spoken to bark out orders when it was necessary.
He had left Hen in charge for the rest of the shift and come home and he sighed in utter relief when he saw that (Y/n) was home too. He wouldn't of known what to do with himself if she had been out when he got back.
"Will you stop, please?" His hands reached out and curled around (Y/n)'s wrists, swiftly pulling her arms towards him and turning her away from the kitchen counter.
He couldn't stand and watch her flutter about the house in a panic, trying desperately to find something to do with herself to avoid this conversation.
He could feel her hands shaking in his grip and when she looked up at him, Bobby realised she was barely breathing, she was so nervous. He hated that he made her that nervous, that he was the reason she was panicking. That was the last thing he wanted to do here.
"I'm terrified, (Y/n)."
Bobby's hands tightened around her wrists until (Y/n) could no longer feel her hands. She tilted her head back so she was looking up at him and her teeth sank down in her lower lip again, which was now speckled with blood from how much she had been chewing on her lip from anxiety.
When he let go of her hands, he began to rub both his hands together and crack his knuckles. While (Y/n) folded both her arms over her chest.
All she wanted to do was move closer and burrow into Bobby's embrace. She always felt calmer and safe when he held her and they hardly ever had cause to argue. Even when they had been discussing the age difference in their relationship, they had never gone into full blown arguments.
When she didn't answer, it was clear she was waiting for Bobby to keep going. He was finally opening up and willing to talk and (Y/n) needed him to. She needed him to tell her what was on his mind and going through his head because she didn't know what else to do right now but listen.
"I- I messed up last time. I lost everyone I called my family and I buried my kids, that was my fault and something I have to live with. I don't- I'm grateful for a second chance, but I don't w- I don't want to lose anyone else."
Bobby had done something no parent should ever do. He buried both his kids. He lost them both and after that, he never thought he would meet someone else to share his life with, let alone have another child after what happened. He had resigned himself to the knowledge that his children were never going to get any older. He was never going to see anymore milestones, never take his daughter to prom or watch his kids graduate from school or walk his daughter down the aisle or see them have their own families.
That didn't look like it would be in Bobby's future and he was okay with that. He had come to terms with that. Having another child felt like a second chance he didn't deserve. Bobby wasn't a victim, he had been the reason he lost his family.
Did he truly deserve another?
"History doesn't always repeat itself Bobby, and this baby wouldn't be a replacement, you know that, right?"
(Y/n) looked like she was going to reach out for him, but when she saw the way Bobby tangled his hand in his hair and started to tug on the short strands, she stopped. Instead, she gestured to the limited photos around the apartment.
There weren't many pictures of Bobby's children. He had two photos of them on the walls, a drawer full of pictures in the bedroom and a photo album he only looked through when he was having a breakdown. It had taken him years to be able to have their pictures on the walls and face them every day, but Bobby was finally at that place now; because he was with (Y/n).
This baby would never be a replacement or a second chance, it would just be an extension of Bobby's family. This baby would grow up knowing they had two older siblings they would never meet but would always see in photos.
This would never be the start of a new life where Bobby would have to leave his old life behind and forget his family. (Y/n) would never do that to him or expect Bobby to forget his family. But this baby would be a part of them, it would be a new chapter in their lives. This was something (Y/n) desperately wanted to be happy about.
"(Y/n), I'm older than you." Bobby's jaw locked and his hands moved and began flexing at his sides, continuously clenching into fists and unclenching again like he was preparing for some sort of fight.
His shoulders tensed when (Y/n) scoffed and held her hands out like she didn't understand what that revelation was supposed to mean.
"So?"
What did that matter? They had gone over that so many times since they first decided to get into a relationship together and (Y/n) was tired of that subject. Being with an older man wasn't something that weighed heavily on (Y/n)'s mind and she didn't let it get in the way of their relationship or make things complicated because it didn't need to be complicated.
"You're at the age of starting a family, I'm not."
His words had (Y/n) pulling her sleeves over her hands which she pressed against her lips to stop herself from screaming in frustration.
"I'm… God, I'm quite a bit older than you, don't you think that might cause a few issues with a baby? People will see me with this baby and think I'm the granddad. Our kid will notice all the other dads at the school or on the playground are a lot younger than theirs. I don't want you or them to resent me for that."
"Bobby… you really think I'd t-think that?" The broken tone in (Y/n)'s voice made a tear cascade down Bobby's face.
Maybe he didn't think (Y/n) would believe that, but it didn't stop his mind from believing it.
Bobby had started a family over a decade ago. He had begun and ended his family, he wasn't at the preferred age for having a baby, no matter how badly he might want one.
He was afraid. He was worried of taking a baby out and have everyone believe it was his grandchild rather than his baby or have people look at them funny if the three of them went out somewhere. And then there was school and plays and activities to consider. Bobby would be the odd one out. He would be the elder one there at events, he would be the elder dad.
What would their child think? Would they be okay with their dad being much older than everyone else's? Would they think it was strange? Would they resent Bobby for that, would they blame him?
Would (Y/n) start to blame him? Bobby dreaded the thought of (Y/n) waking up in five or ten years time and wondering if having a child with someone older, with Bobby, might have been a mistake.
What they had together was special, Bobby couldn't stand to lose this or do anything that would change what they had or make it difficult. He didn't want (Y/n) or another child to resent him a few years down the line. He didn't want this to be complicated when it should be a happy time in their lives.
And he didn't want to lose anyone else.
Bobby realised a second too late that he hadn't answered her. He realised when the tears were streaming down (Y/n)'s face and she was walking away from him.
He felt rooted to the spot, tears flushing down his own face until he heard (Y/n) moving about.
He followed her into the bedroom, but his heart lurched up into his throat and he all but gasped when she slung her bag on her shoulder and walked out again. Bobby followed after her like a shadow, like a lovesick puppy desperate for her to talk to him and he grabbed her wrist and weaved in front of her to make her stop and actually talk to him again.
"What are you doing?" The panic in his voice made (Y/n) whimper and she took a step back so she didn't melt into his arms and give in.
"I'm gonna stay with Anna for a while."
They needed space. They needed to think things over and then decide what they were doing about this situation. Arguing wasn't going to help and neither was getting overwhelmed and panicked. (Y/n) would go and stay with her sister for the night, for a day or two until she and Bobby had things all figured out.
She wasn't sure whether it was easier or harder when Bobby didn't stop her.
He couldn't stop himself. As soon as the front door closed, Bobby grabbed the nearest thing to hand, which happened to be a candle holder, and tossed it against the wall. He watched the glass shatter and lumps of wax scatter along the floor resembling the broken pieces of his heart that Bobby couldn't mould back together yet.
He wasn't sure how long he had been sat at the kitchen table. He didn't know what time it was or where his phone was or what he was going to do. He had no idea if (Y/n) had messaged him, he didn't know if she had actually gone to Anna's or if she decided to go somewhere else. He didn't know if Hen finished the shift okay and if the team were all alright.
All he knew was that he needed to do something. He needed to explain. He needed to get all the thoughts from his head and the weight off of his heart before it gave out.
His fingers drummed against the table to the point he was sure he would be leaving indents in the wood and his knee jutted into the underside of the table every other second in a continuous manner.
But after another minute, maybe two, Bobby turned around. He found a spare piece of paper from the drawer behind him.
He snatched a pen from the bowl in the centre of the table and tried to write. He wasn't sure where he wanted to start, where it would lead or what he was doing.
All Bobby knew was that he had to do something before he imploded.
The tears trickling down his face splotched onto the fresh ink on the paper and created dark hazy blue welts across the page, but it didn't stop him from writing. It didn't stop him from pouring his bleeding, crumpling heart out onto the page that had (Y/n)'s name written across the top.
'I was the catalyst last time. I was the cause, the effect and the reason; it's my fault they're gone.'
Bobby didn't want to do it again. He didn't want to get so close to someone, to share his life and his heart and create a new life with them only to lose them both. He would love nothing more than to have a baby with (Y/n), but Bobby wasn't so sure he deserved it. And he would never want to do this if sometime in the future both (Y/n) and their baby would resent him.
'Maybe I don't deserve this second chance, no matter how much I want it. And if that's true, then I'm never going to be enough for either of you.'
***
Three days.
(Y/n) had been staying with Anna for three days and she didn't know what to do anymore.
She had been too nervous, too overwhelmed and sick to go into work yesterday, today as well. Morning sickness didn't combine well with anxiety and (Y/n) had thrown up everything she had tried to eat since she'd been staying with her sister.
Sinking back into the sofa, (Y/n) closed her eyes and burrowed her face into the cushion. She wanted to disappear. Well, she actually wanted to go home. Being here with Anna had been nice for the first night, to spend a bit of time with her big sister, but it wasn't home. This wasn't where (Y/n)'s heart wanted to be and she was becoming desperate to be back in Bobby's arms.
But she couldn't just go back home if her and Bobby weren't on speaking terms. She figured he was still thinking things over and deciding how he felt about this, and that was okay. He needed time, but (Y/n) didn't know what to do with herself.
She tried to focus on the sound of the tv that was on low in the background, but it couldn't overpower the thumping of her heart that was pulsing in her ears.
She didn't feel well.
She hadn't been feeling well for a while, presumably because she was too nervous to eat and kept throwing everything back up again.
A gasp tumbled past her lips and her hand suddenly moved down to press into her abdomen when a sudden pain jolted through her.
Her eyes snapped open and she tilted her head down to look at her stomach as if she could see through her skin and find the cause of the pain. Her eyes narrowed as her body tensed up and she waited, trying to hold her breath to see if she had just moved the wrong way and tensed a muscle. But when the pain ignited again and felt like a sharp cramp, her body started to shake.
She waited. The tv faded into static in her ears and she waited for a while, begging for this just to be her body telling her she had to go and get something to eat. But it didn't feel like it was her stomach that was cramping from lack of food. It was her abdomen, and they were turning into sharp pains.
"Oow… no, please."
Her palm pressed down into her abdomen and she slowly pushed up off the cushion and reached across for her phone on the coffee table.
Shivers coursed up and down her spine and her body started to tremble when she unlocked her phone and found Bobby's contact.
She called him without hesitation. (Y/n) had no idea whether Bobby was still at work or if he was in bed after a night shift or if he was getting ready for work. She couldn't remember what his shifts were this week and she didn't have the calendar in front of her to see what he had written down for his work pattern.
Her free hand pressed down into her abdomen and she creased forward, hating the tears that were beginning to streak down her face as she begged for Bobby to answer the phone. He couldn't always pick up if he was at work.
"Hey sweetheart, I'm glad you called."
His voice was like music to (Y/n)'s ears.
There was something bright yet deflated in Bobby's tone at the same time. He was relieved (Y/n) had called. He didn't want to call her first because he wanted her to let him know when she was ready to talk, she had been the one to leave, to take a break and Bobby wanted her to take all the time she needed.
That didn't stop him from sending a message every now and then, asking if she was okay, hoping she was alright and to message him if she needed anything. He wasn't good at being on radio silence.
The last three days had been hard. Bobby could barely concentrate; he didn't know what to do with himself. And he hadn't been home except to sleep, he went to work yesterday when he was supposed to have the day off because he couldn't stand to be home when (Y/n) wasn't there; it wasn't home without her. Strange, how he had gone from feeling comfortable with his own presence to hating his home if (Y/n) wasn't in it.
"Can you help me?" The feeble tone to her voice made Bobby's heart tense and his hand curled into a fist at his side until his nails were puncturing into his palm.
"What's wrong?"
"I- I'm getting cramps… Bobby, I don't k-know what to do." It was clear she was doing her level best not to cry and that made Bobby's heart stutter.
She sounded frightened. He didn't like that, not one bit. Why did she have to be in pain when he wasn't there?
"Are you still at Anna's?" When he heard her hum in agreement he nodded to himself. "Then I'm coming to get you. I won't be long, okay? Just wait there for me, sweetheart."
Bobby hated to panic Hen when he told her she was now in charge for the remainder of the shift, again. But he didn't have time to explain. He had to get to his partner. He had to go and get (Y/n).
All Bobby could see when he was driving was (Y/n) flashing before his eyes. Had he done this? Was this his fault? If they had talked properly three days ago and didn't leave things the way they did, would this be happening now?
Oh God, was she going to lose the baby? Was God going to punish Bobby for not taking this chance the moment he got it? Was this his punishment- was God punishing him again by hurting (Y/n)?
It didn't take him long to get to Anna's house and Bobby wasn't sure he was relieved or not to find that Anna's car wasn't there. He didn't like the thought of (Y/n) suffering and being in pain on her own, but at least this way he could take her to the emergency room and look after her himself.
He didn't even get chance to knock on the door. By the time he got out the car and hooked the keys on his thumb, the front door was open.
He hustled up the front steps, only now aware that he was still in his starched work trousers and cotton shirt, both of which smelled like smoke and were layered with dust. And he swiped the back of his hand across his face to smear off any smoke or dirt that was clinging to his skin.
"Alright sweetheart, I'm here." He passed over the threshold and found (Y/n) stood to one side, leaning heavily on the wall.
She didn't look well. Tears streaming down her face, lower lip wobbling, eyes hazy with pain and she had one arm deadlocked around her waist like it would do something to take the pain away.
Bobby was taken back when (Y/n) immediately pushed off the wall and almost fell into his arms. Her face burrowed down into his chest and her arm deadlocked around his waist while her other arm stayed imbedded between them, pressing into her abdomen.
"Talk to me," He murmured quietly into her hair while one hand held her arm and the other cupped the back of her neck.
"My stomach, it hurts." (Y/n) kept her face meshed into Bobby's chest with her nose squashed against his sternum and her fingers digging into his back like she thought he was going to be ripped from her hold at any moment.
"Okay, then let's get you down to the emergency room and get you checked out."
Bobby didn't like how quiet was on the way down to the hospital. He hated the silence, but he could understand that she didn't know what to say and wasn't in the mood to try and strike up small talk.
Every time he glanced to the right to check on her, he could feel his breaths running away without him whenever she winced. He watched how she had one hand resting on her stomach, but her shoulders twitched and pulled inwards whenever she had a cramp.
Although when she reached her free hand out and gripped his thigh, Bobby reached down and took her hand tightly in his.
(Y/n) stayed quiet when they got to the emergency room. As soon as they were inside, she burrowed her face into Bobby's chest again and huddled up beneath his arm that bound around her back like an iron bar of protection. She let Bobby reel off her information and what was happening and her eyes stayed closed even as he guided her across to sit down in the waiting area that was unusually quiet.
She tried to focus on the feeling of Bobby's hand gliding up and down her arm, and his lips that were attached to the top of her head. When he moved his other hand to rake up and down her thigh, she almost melted against his chest.
His touch made her feel calmer, but it didn't stop the thoughts from rushing round in her head. What if this was fate's way of making the choice for them? Maybe fate thought that this wasn't the right thing for them and was trying to take the baby away. (Y/n) didn't want that; but she wasn't so sure about Bobby.
"You're gonna be fine."
It was almost as if Bobby could read her thoughts. He stroked his hand up and down her arm and spoke into her hair while his eyes darted around the waiting room, taking everything in. He wished he had his rosary beads with him; it might have calmed them both down a little and he would of prayed.
This wasn't what Bobby wanted. He was worried about being given a second chance, but that didn't mean that he wanted (Y/n) to lose the baby. He didn't want that. This life hadn't started yet, but it was precious and Bobby didn't want to lose their baby.
When her name was called, Bobby kept his arm around her waist and let (Y/n) stay tucked up into his side. His hand squeezed her hip and his lips pressed a few dozen kisses to the side of her head as they followed after the doctor down into the assessment ward.
"Okay, the notes say you're experiencing cramps. Do you know how far along you are?"
(Y/n) sat down on the bed in the middle of the room, but when Bobby went to stand out the way, her hand immediately reached out for him. She didn't want him to sit at the back of the room or stand to one side, she wanted Bobby to stay as close as possible. She wasn't sure she could bear this if they were going to get bad news.
He was stood beside her within a second, his hand tangled in hers and his other hand cupping the side of her neck so he could kiss her temple.
"Ten weeks or so."
"Any bleeding?" She jotted down a few notes when (Y/n) shook her head. "Let's take a look, and then we'll draw some blood and go from there."
(Y/n) sat up on the bed and swung her legs over, but she couldn't look at the doctor once she lifted her shirt. Her eyes deadlocked with Bobby as he took a step closer to the bed, keeping tight hold of her hand while his other arm panned across his chest.
They both stayed silent as the doctor checked her stomach and prodded around for any sensitive areas. When she pressed on (Y/n)'s upper stomach she felt like she was going to be sick, but she knew she hadn't eaten anything to be able to do that.
She couldn't look. Once the ultrasound began, (Y/n) closed her eyes and turned her head in Bobby's direction. Maybe she shouldn't have told him. Maybe if she'd waited a few more days, this would of occurred and neither of them would of had to argue or sit in anguish for the past few days. Had this been inevitable? Or was she losing the baby because fate decided this wasn't in their cards?
"Well, bloodflow looks good, everything is in place. The good news is you're not having a miscarriage, the pains could be routine or from stress or not eating right."
When (Y/n) snapped her eyes open, she looked up but her jaw loosened when she watched Bobby's expression change. He didn't look shell-shocked or upset or confused or blank. He was smiling. (Y/n) didn't think she would see Bobby smile in regards to this pregnancy, at least not yet and she thought he would simply look relieved or squeeze her hand. He was smiling.
"Does- does that mean there's bad news?" (Y/n) pulled Bobby's hand close to her chest while his free hand started to glide up and down her thigh. She didn't miss the way he leaned towards her to try and get a look at the monitor.
It had been a long while since he'd been in this position and seen a baby up on the screen. His baby.
"Well that depends on your views on twins."
Twins. Two babies.
A shiver coursed down (Y/n)'s spine when she suddenly felt Bobby's hand cupping the back of her neck so he could lean over her. His lips attached to her temple but (Y/n) grinned when she felt him chuckling against her skin and squeezing her hand.
Reaching up, she cupped his neck and closed her eyes, tilting her temple more into his touch. This was good news. This was all good news.
***
"You sure you feel okay?"
A tender look spread across (Y/n)'s face as she headed inside and aimed for the kitchen. She could feel Bobby hovering close behind her, following her lead inside their home.
"I'm fine," She reassured, reaching her hand behind her until she found his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.
She'd had some medication at the hospital to relax her and some anti sickness meds so she could actually have something to eat. She felt a lot better and because the cramps had gone and her blood works had come back fine, she had been sent home. She was fine. The babies were fine.
She dropped her bag from her shoulder and slumped it onto the kitchen table, but her eyes narrowed and her head tilted to one side when she looked down.
"What's this?"
Bobby had written her a letter? He didn't usually write letters to anyone, he wasn't even one for writing long text messages, he preferred to talk or argue or rant in person rather than on paper. But when (Y/n) picked up the letter which had her name in Bobby's cursive handwriting along the top, she couldn't resist.
It was addressed to her, if it weren't she would have inquired but left the letter alone.
She jumped when she felt Bobby's hands on her hips and his chin perching down on her shoulder, but she continued to read the letter. If he didn't want her to he would of said something or tore the letter from her hands. His lips attached to the side of her neck and he rhythmically squeezed her hips every now and then while he patiently waited for her to read his words.
His chest pressed down into her back like he was moulding himself around her like a blanket and it was comforting.
But (Y/n) could feel tears welling up in her eyes and spilling over her cheeks when she read his words.
He didn't have to feel nervous. He didn't have to have doubts or feel like he wasn't going to be enough for her and the baby- both babies. Bobby was always going to be everything (Y/n) wanted and needed, and their kids were going to feel exactly the same.
When she placed the letter down on the table next to her bag, (Y/n) spun around in Bobby's arms and looped her arms around his neck. She pushed up on her toes until she could attach her lips to the junction behind his ear but she felt the way he shivered when he felt her tears soaking into his skin.
Something soft crossed Bobby's face and he smiled tearily when he felt (Y/n) murmuring "I'm sorry," into his neck. As if she had anything to apologise for.
"That's my line."
Everything Bobby hadn't been able to say three days ago was written down in that letter. Every worry, every bad thought, every reason why he didn't feel like this was the life he deserved. It was all there for her to see, but right at the bottom of the note, he'd written another line of truth.
He told her the truth when he said he was happy. He may have been overwhelmed with anxiety, but he was still happy. He loved (Y/n) to the end of the Earth and having a baby with her was a dream Bobby never thought he would get.
"I can't help worrying, or believing that I don't deserve you or them. But I can promise to be here and do this with you. I want to be the best dad I can for them; for you."
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lightandfellowship · 22 hours ago
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I actually find the topic of "Nomura's evolving art style as he takes on more and more responsibility at Square (and subsequently has less time to Do Stuff)" really fascinating.
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Like, If you compare his art from the KH1-DDD era to his current day art, I think there's a noticable difference to his approach: how many steps there are in his art process, how he chooses to finish a piece, and the shift from a clean digital style to a more organic traditional one.
He used to use very clean, black lineart; bold colors; and more instances of defined/hard shading for that digital, almost cell-shaded or vector kinda look. Nowadays he goes for a more sketchy + watercolor style with pencil lineart, broad washes of faded color, and color shading that's a bit more blended and simplified in places (relying more on the pencil shading to create distinct shadows), with the hard edges more often reserved for scattered, bright highlights. (He's made art like this in the past eras too, such as the KH main menu arts which all have a watercolor quality to them, but the lineart was a bit more defined then and less sketchy, and thus slightly different from his current stuff.)
I think the Dark Road key art is a very good example of his current art style. The sketchy, almost brown lineart. The watercolor quality that emerges where two colors meet and overlap. A little desaturated and earthy. Color shading that's very broad, soft, and loose, with sharp highlights here and there.
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Both styles have their merits (I personally love this sketchy era of his), but I think it's pretty likely that he adopted this as his "main" art style in order to adapt to time crunch. He doesn't need to do time-consuming lineart and precise shading anymore; he can use the original sketch as the lineart instead. Heck, he can fill in a bunch of the shading via pencil during this sketching phase to save even more time, and then can paint in a more watercolor-y kind of way that allows him to color in quicker, broader strokes.
And then there's the occasional art mistake that has become a bit more frequent in recent years, by my estimation. Which I imagine, again, is due to running out of time to notice/fix those mistakes. Things like Ephemer's arms being a bit too long in this UX art, the Kingdom Key being slightly off-model in this anniversary art, or the ears on this Mickey Mouse symbol being two different sizes on this Utada album art.
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(Which isn't to say that he hasn't made art mistakes in the previous eras, for example he initially got the colors of Riku's shirt mixed up in the Re:CoM cover art before fixing it, but I still think the mistakes were a bit less frequent back then.)
And like, hey. I draw, too. Amatuerishly, but I do. I don't blame Nomura for possibly needing to change his approach to making art in order to meet deadlines, nor do I blame him for these little art mistakes that ended up falling through the cracks. I imagine he simply doesn't have the time anymore now that his job has shifted from (primarily) being a character designer/illustrator to (primarily) being a director of multiple, simultaneous projects. Or maybe I'm totally wrong about this and his art evolution had nothing to do with time crunch, who knows. I think his current art style is gorgeous either way!
Anyway, I just think this is an interesting example of someone taking their art and adapting it to a difficult and highly limiting situation, experimenting with new things and finding the means to still make art even when you have less time to do. Also a great example that professionals are human and will make mistakes even in professional products, and it's not the end of the world, it just happens. If you ever obsess over a mistake in your art...maybe take solace in knowing that it happens to everyone. Even people who have been in their field for a very long time.
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possiblyreallyme · 2 days ago
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Oooo headcannon’s…If possible can we get Ace with a reader who’s fire resistant due to a devil fruit?
Hello!!! I love love love receiving your asks! i'm so sorry this took so long, i finished writing it at the start of november but it got deleted when i went to post it😭
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He is a silly goose at heart, and if you're his friend, you'll need to be ready for a few pranks once he finds out about your fire-resistance. For example, setting you ablaze when meeting strangers because their reactions are priceless, or annoying you with little fire-punches that have flames licking at your cheeks when sat next to each other at dinner (his fist never actually came in contact with your skin— he's not that stupid), or anything else he can come up with.
Also, expect a lot of testing. Like, constantly bothering you and begging you to be a guinea pig for the new move he's been wanting to try, or seeing how hot he can make his flames by slowly trying to burn your palm, things like that. Of course he'd be careful if you were unsure of it, but he would trust you enough to be 100% confident that you'd be fine if you told him that there was no way he could burn you.
If he had a crush on you though, he's a little bit more careful. Yes, he knows that you won't get burned no matter what, but with the added complexity of having feelings for you, he doesn't really want to risk anything. That doesn't mean he won't show off though, because trust me, he loves to do that.
He'll create firework shows just for you, or come up with excuses to use his powers whenever he can— including warming you up by making himself a human bonfire.
Now, if you're his lover, the whole game changes.
If you were a badass, cool, tough kinda babe, he has little issue with creating small flames in the palm of his hand and letting you play around with them, but that's about where he draws the line before he gets too worried. If you were the sweet, kind, shy type however, I don't think he'd be able to bring his flames anywhere near your skin.
He'd be WAYYYYY too paranoid to set his sweetheart on fire— what if he burned you?? What if your devil fruit powers worked differently then you thought???? WHAT IF YOU HATED HIM AFTERWARDS????
"Ace, come on, stop being a party pooper!" You whine, wanting to test out your abilities. And what better way to do so then with your fire-fist boyfriend? "Babydoll, I'm not gonna set you on fire..." He murmured uneasily, as if the thought made his skin crawl. "Fun hater😒" "Love you too, angel-face!😚"
For afab readers, he most definitely works as your full-time heating pad when you're on your period.
It wasn't even your idea— he just asked Marco how to ease your cramps (tearfully, might I add, mans was terrified for you), and he just about jumped with joy when he found out that heat makes it better, skipping back to your cabin to fulfill his God-given duty, which was cradling you like a baby to his chest and heating your back and stomach.
NSFW HEADCANONS BELOW! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!
While on the topic of periods, hear me out: heated period sex.
My man loves him so good period sex, especially if you let him act as an internal heating pad by warming his cock. He'll keep his large hand on your stomach to feel the bulge of his cock and heat up his palm to ease your cramps, whispering sweet praises into your ears while he keeps himself to the hilt, letting you adjust to his large size while he himself tried not to cry out in bliss.
Mess? What mess? You think the Fire Fist Ace is afraid of some blood? Honey, we have towels for a reason, don't even worry about it.
100% into temperature play, but again, only uses real fire if you're the tougher type or you beg. Though you'll never forget that one time he teased your nipples with a flame on the tip of his tongue...
In summery: Ace is a complicated guy, so your personality and role definitely change his opinions a lot (sorry if the way i'm writing it is annoying tho).
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graillore2point0 · 3 days ago
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Sadly, I'm too afraid of getting abandoned by everyone I've ever known over this, but I suppose that's what the hornyblog's been for from the beginning.
I wholeheartedly agree, to start things off. Gushing is a series that truly, well, gushes with love for Magical Girls as a genre and a concept and wants to explore it. To deepen what a Magical Girl is without actually subverting it beyond the obvious of Utena as a protagonist.
I am someone who can and will wax poetically about the themes and characters of Madoka Magica and while I'm generally too afraid of consequences to give Gushing the honour it deserves I very much want to do the same.
Now, a lot of the backlash against Gushing is over the ages of the characters, with everyone so far appearing in the anime being 14 other than Lord Enorme at 20 and Korisu-chan at 9. (The Shio-chans don't really change this, though they're 17.) People are getting up in arms over this.
Now, beyond presenting them with the obvious issue of writing a story about 'coming of age' and self exploration as a teenager (When most people start getting interested in such things) without having the main characters, you know, early teenagers, as it would not at all work as well with them above 18 due to various factors...
There's also the fact that Gushing is far from the only series presenting young girls in such a way? It's just actually open about it, and does it in a far kinder way than typical as well.
Gratuitous butt and boob shots, random slips and upskirts, hells even Magical Girl transformation sequences typically depict characters cloaked only in an unnatural light. It's a staple of comedy, slice of life, school and more action oriented genres (Look at BnHA, the average Isekai, the entirety of the Gacha Game scene, even many well recieved Magical Girl series).
(Also where are they finding these 18+ not secretly ancient anime girls? Grab ten of them and six will be 14-17, three 100-10000, and if you're lucky the last is 22 at the very oldest.)
Anyways, back towards topic, it comes down to this perception that to make or watch something that at all depicts younger characters in a more overtly sexual light is some unforgivable sin. That anyone who does is a pedophile biding their time (Which is a whole other matter they probably need to introspect on) who'll act at any moment to bring their depraved tastes into the real world. I could talk more about that in particular but not now.
The thing is it's not. It's not something morally wrong to watch or write something like Gushing or Prisma Illya. These are, in our world, fictional characters. They do not have an age, they do not have an observable will, they are not real on our dimensional plane, to watch or draw or write about them does not harm them in any way.
It's this... Christian puritanical obsession with everything needing to be Clean, to be Acceptable and Uncontroversial. It demands that nothing is explored, that nothing is considered, that nothing is made without first being judged Pure by the twelve most Racist, Homophobic and Misoginistic people on the planet.
I feel like I have more to say but I'm running out of steam so I suppose I'll call this here for now.
So, Gushing Over Magical Girls Is The Best Thing To Happen to Magical Girls
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Gushing Over Magical Girls get this bad rep. For all the wrong reasons. I’ve seen it be called an insult to Magical Girls, I’ve seen it be called “gooner bait” a term I absolutely despise but that’s a thing for another day. I’ve seen it insulted for everything and anything under the sun.
I first got acquainted with it when I was scrolling through Twitter and I saw someone complain about the PV. However, as an avid Magical Girl Fan, I wasn’t disgusted. I was intrigued.
I decided to read the manga, and oh god.
This is one of the best things I’ve read.
The story follows Utena, a shy girl that loves Magical Girls, tricked to become the evil general that will defeat the Magical Girl team “Tres Magia”.
And it’s a delight.
I binged all the episodes available to me in the manga, and had fun in each and every chapter.
The same, however, couldn’t be said by half the people who watched the anime. And I was extremely baffled. As a queer woman, this was the first time in my life, in which I had seen something so deliberately catered towards me. I saw tell-tale signs of someone who genuinely admires the genre, and is simply using it as an outlet for exploring deeper and more interesting topics that a SFW version of it would not be able to.
Yet, I turn around and I see people calling it the most horrendous stuff, and accusing everyone who likes it of being monsters or men.
Genuinely, I’ve had enough.
Gushing Over Magical Girl is not the Devil. In fact, I think it’s the best thing to come don’t even like Magical Girls AND IT SHOWS.
PART 1: “Magical girls are for little girls!”.
The first criticism you’ll see aimed at “Gushing over Magical girl” is the amount of sexually charged content it has. And it is true. It borders on straight up porn in many instances and it just gets wilder as you go on. By chapter 30, we’re way past PantyShots. Like, I’ve seen some of these girls’ vaginas, and I’m not joking.
Personally, I don’t see anything wrong with it, but there’s people who might disagree.
“Magical Girls are for little girls” some people say “and you’re corrupting it!”
Which genuinely makes me laugh.
This is because this type of argument could only be done by someone with no real concept of Magical Girls aside from maybe Sailor Moon and Sakura Card Captor.
out of the Magical Girl genre in a WHILE (Ignoring Precure, because they just gave us a magical boy and that’s my win of the decade).
People are just, you know, stupid. And reactionary. Enough that they see a boob and lose their minds like a Karen at a Christmas Eve Mall.
My point is, I love this manga. And I’m willing to risk my reputation to defend it. Cause genuinely, half the people who are clutching their pearls over this show - Magical Girl Anime haven’t always been PG, or aimed at girls.
Cutie Honey is a great example. It’s one of the most famous Magical Girl Anime you will find - and it’s a shonen. With the protagonist, Honey, being constantly naked, groped, put in suggestive situations and have outfits that show her cleavage.
And it’s one of the most famous, most popular takes on Magical Girl there is. Yet, I never see any amount of outrage towards it. (Part of me wonders if it’s because the fan service is aimed at men, rather than involving yuri).
There’s also Lyrical Nanoha, one of the most popular serial franchises there is. It spans several seasons and spinoffs, and it’s beloved by many.
And it’s aimed at older men. Yes, it’s a Seinen.
In fact, its origins are far from PG. It’s actually a Spin-off of an erotic game named “Triangle Heart”. It was most definitely not created with little girls in mind, and themes it tackles reflect as much.
There’s Fate/kaleid liner Prisma Illya too, a spinoff of the Fate/Stay Night VN, very obviously aimed at older men, it’s a Seinen. It has a lot of fanservice and scenes where the characters are half naked.
Day Break Illusion is also a Shonen.
And as much as I adora Madoka - I’ve been stating for years now that it isn’t a show meant for little girls. You could argue it’s for everyone, regardless of gender, who’s a little older. But it most definitely wasn’t for little girls.
So, no. This was never an “only girls” club. Trying to paint it as such, is not only wrong but ignorant.
Magical Girl shows can be for anyone. Men, boys, girls, women and I find it infantilizing to consider it “only for little girls”.
No one says “super heroes are ONLY for little boys”
Well, some do. But they’re, you know, bigots. Who don’t want girls playing or adults o have fun.
So no, Gushing Over Magical Girls being a sexually charged anime in the Seinen category isn’t “corrupting the genre”. In fact, I would argue it’s doing exactly what the genre has done in the OVA shadows for a while.
Not to mention, many people have screamed from the rooftop how they want “more mature Magical Girl shows” referring to the success of Madoka. But as soon as an actually mature take on Magical Girls shows up, tackling issues of sexuality and love, you all don’t want it anymore.
(We all know why, though. Americans, and western culture in general, considers mature themes, only that which involves violence. Anything close to discussing issues of sex is no longer “mature” but “Pornographic” and deserving of being shoved into a corner. With all queer themes, gender studies, and any nuance that could be had regarding these issues).
And speaking of sexually charged, have you watched so called “wholesome” magical girls? They’re still very much sexy. Not in the “on the nose” ecchi way Seinen and Shonen are - but they still are.
You’ll find transformations were the girls are naked, zoom in to their breasts, you’ll have panty shots every now and then. Even themes of growing up, having crushes, and innuendos about sex. Inappropriate relationships, taboo romance, and the likes.
Sakura had Rita and a professor’s relationship (mutual in the manga), Sailor Moon had Chibiusa and Elliot’s romance, Sugar Sugar Rune even having an element for ‘lust’ and other different types of love, and let’s not forget Mermaid Melody which has several instances of the girls naked, in compromising positions with other men. And I’m pretty sure Tokyo Mew Mew likely opened a whole bunch of doors for girls to be into CNC.
This is, by the way, normal.
Completely so.
These stories often talk about the girlhood experience. And girls and teenage girls are interested in all of these things. They’re interested in sex, romance, their bodies growing up, their own sexuality and the likes. It’s no wonder same-sex relationships and romance get included, they’re part of what experiencing the world through the eyes of a young girl is like.
And subsequently, it stands to reason that as people who engaged with MG grow up - they find comfort in exploring their sexuality through Magical Girl themselves. There’s a reason why there’s a growing section of “Magical Girl” in your local hentai site.
“Men get off on corrupting this wholesome girl targeted genre” is actually TERF rhetoric sneaking through the mainstream. It ignores AFAB ppl and gender nonconforming people, who grew up with Magical Girls, simply using a medium that originally started their journey of sexual identity, to explore more “grown up” aspects of that same identity.
In particular, I’m a Cis AroAce Woman. I wrote a lot of Magical Girl NSFW when I first started writing NSFW Twitter threads. They’re bad and they’re cringey. But it was something I needed.
Magical Girls were a huge part of my childhood and early teens. When I was mentally in the space to want to engage with NSFW content: it was obvious I would turn to what first sparked excitement.
So this idea that “men are corrupting Magical Girls with their sick fantasies” is nothing more than TERF-lite propaganda. People, including women and men, have been doing this for ages; for a variety of reasons. And doing so, doesn’t rob children of their spaces - but the gentrification of the internet is a story of another day.
The other argument I have heard is that GOMG is a mockery of the genre. Which is even more laughable in my opinion.
PART 2: Parodies and why I hate Earth Defender’s Club.
Gushing Over Magical Girls loves Magical Girls. It’s a parody, in a way, but it knows very well what it parodies. It’s not surface level in the slightest. And it absolutely is not mean spirited about it.
A lot of the time, shows that reference and parody the Magical Girl genre, do so in ways that feel like they view it as a lesser genre. They take generic images of cute girls in frilly outfits, swap the colors around, and have them chant over-the-top spells. You’re meant to laugh, not only at how silly they look, but people who would love it. Especially if they’re grown ups.
I do not like “Cute High Earth Defense Club LOVE!” For this exact reason - even tho many people praise it to all heavens.
Because
1) It feels surface level in its commentary and depiction of Magical Girls and
2) More mocking towards the genre than paying homage or doing anything with it.
The continuous use of the word “Love” is a very obvious jab at Magical Girls using these words, which feels mean spirited just for the sake of it. Their outfits are almost exactly the same, save for the colors. And they all use the same sticks as weapon, with no thematic link for the shapes of the scepters. The mascot too (a wombat for god knows what reason), I think it’s meant to be a joke of some sort for how ridiculous some of the mascots for the girls get, which rubs me the wrong way.
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In general, it feels shallow and mean spirited. But no one calls this an insult to Magical Girls. Because people who like it don't actually care about Magical Girls. They see cute boys doing silly things and love it. Which is kinda sad.
Now, Gushing Over Magical girls has sort of that same problem on the Tres Magias…But they’re not the protagonists. And even then, in later chapters, they get power ups that are different in design, and thematically linked.
The protagonist, and the ones we follow, are Utena and the girls. And they all have very distinct outfits, all with motifs that are tangentially thematically linked, and speak of each character’s personalities in interesting ways.
Utena in particular has THIS outfit. Which a lot of people don’t like, but I actually do.
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It’s very obvious it’s taking inspo from other iconic Bad Girls in the genre. Namely, Utau, Kraehe and Devil Homura. All “Enemy characters” that have unhealthy obsessions with other characters. In particular, I think the wings and the feathers resemble Homura - THE character known to have a massive obsession with a Magical Girl (Madoka), to the point of insanity.
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There’s also Magia Azure. Who’s a clear reference to the Mean Tsundere girl that is iconic to the genre. She’s also a Miko. Which is a callback to Sailor Mars, arguably THE girl who popularized this archetype.
I also love what they do with the mascots. Unlike Earth Defenders, where the mascot is you know, a mockery of the archetype of a mascot - useless, only there to give power ups, and obsessed with food - the mascots of GOMG is taking a book from Madoka.
It considers the mascots both all-too-powerful and yet limited in their reach. Which is exactly what the mascots have always been in Magical Girls. Beings so powerful they can give mythical powers to girls, yet helpless to do anything on their own. So, they use magical girls as a vehicle to achieve their goals. Most Magical girls try to paint this as a good thing, but newer genres shine light on how dangerous that can be too.
Madoka tackles it with Kyubey as the main initial mascot, only later to turn out to be the villain of the series.
And in a Post-Madoka world, trusting the mascots is just the slightest bit more difficult. That’s why, from the get go, GOMG portrays their mascots as morally corrupt. He’s not a good character, he’s malicious and doing more harm than good. But for the majority of the series, he’s painted more as a useless harmless evil than anything genuinely terrifying or worthy of concern. The attention is focused on other things.
But I love the way that it’s heavily implied that they’re not good. It’s a very interesting take on the mascot and it helps with the themes of the series. Which yes, by the way. Gushing Over Magical Girls has themes.
Which lead me to-
Part 3: Yeah, uhm, Gushing Over Magical Girl has themes.
There’s this idea that Sex is an inherently violent act. In which a man humiliates and sodomizes a woman, and therefore the woman is exploited in some way. And 10x worse is any act that involves BDSM. It’s violence; born out of hatred.
This is TERF rhetoric. I’m not joking. This line of thought leads directly to TERF ideas.
Many on the internet have pointed out as much, and BDSM members have gone to be very vocal about it. In particular, people on the role of the submissive (or the bottoms) are loudly trying to explain the contrary. How they like the act of sex, like the idea of being vulnerable, or being humiliated. There’s also plenty of LGBT+ stories that talk about it, both in western and eastern spaces. Just jump into the section of dom/sub verse at your local manga browsing website, and you’ll find something.
That said, the same is not as common for people who like to “dominate”.
I can only think of two pieces of media that argue that, whoever is the dominant or the sadist, is also a human being. That whatever they’re doing is done, not out of hatred for the submissive or an act of violence, but love.
One, is the husky and the white cat. In which Mo Ran, among other things, has to come to terms that his love isn’t “pure”. That he cannot love someone without the want to have sex, and to completely dominate that someone.
The second one is Gushing Over Magical Girls.
It’s very clear to me that Utena’s sadism isn’t a violent act. It’s an act born out of love. She genuinely loves the Magical Girls, and most girls for that matter, and whenever she is inflicting pain and fighting with them - what she wants is to ultimately help them in some way.
She wants them to “be the cutest version they can be” and wants them to shine brighter than ever.
There’s this one scene I love, around chapter 20, in which Baiser (Utena) is fighting Magia Azura. And due to Baiser going a bit too far, Azura ends up being Mind-broken. She crawls towards her, calls her “mistress” and begs to become her servant.
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In any normal Hentai you’ll find, this is a good thing. This would be the ideal outcome. A character being turned into nothing but a sex slave for the enjoyment of the dominant.
Which is why I found it breathtaking when that didn’t happen.
Baiser is horrified by this. She does not want to break the girls, she wants them to be powerful. She wants them to win. With her, the evil one, being nothing more than a vehicle for them to be even stronger than before.
This is the first time I’ve ever seen dominant or sadist characters being presented both sexually, and in such a positive light. Much less a queer woman in the same position.
It doesn’t treat BDSM sex as a disgusting taboo act, but something born out of genuine love - and a want to see the other person be or feel better.
This is reinforced around chapter 25 where Leberblume and Loco Mùsica are fighting Baiser. For context, Loco Musica wanted to be an Idol, but had terrible singing. She uses her evil power to basically force everyone to listen to her sing (which is so reminiscent of Mermaid Melody btw). When they fight, Baiser wins, and is then set to use her new found power to “punish” Loco Musica.
Originally, Loco Musica points out how Baiser’s sadistic tendencies are “the same” as Lord Enorme, who we’ve seen uses sadism as a genuine form of punishment. Something to avoid. You behave well, because you don’t want to get hurt or humiliated by her.
However, when Baiser uses her own unique type of sadism on Loco Musica, something happens. Instead of causing her physical pain by beating her or using violence, she forces her to get naked and perform her idol song like that. This causes her to get extremely embarrassed. And in the process, she actually starts to sing really well.
This is important for two reasons
1) Baiser is actually taking into account who Musica is. It’s later revealed that Musica wanted a more frilly idol-like outfit but Lord Enorme shut it down, for the sake of a more ‘unified’ aesthetic. Baiser is not just throwing around the same treatment and punishment for all girls - what one might like, the other might hate.
2) At the end of the day, while she did the punishment, it was both embarrassing, but ultimately something that helped Musica and made her feel better.
And that’s really the key here, and why I love the series.
Sadism, sex and kinks in general are not tools of degeneracy. They’re treated as part of our experience.
Also, it’s just fun?
Part 4: Gushing Over Magical Girls is just extremely fun when you don’t have a dumb bitch yapping abt how unholy it is to see tiddies on a screen
Yeah, GOMG just has one of the most creative depictions of the most insane of kinks you’ll see - I could spent hour gushing over Nero Alice.
Seeing all these different kinks being depicted as powers and abilities that these characters have - and seeing how they interact with other people is just interesting.
The sex scenes are both hilarious and kinda sexy. Specially if you do like to see women all hot and bothered. Personally I’m not into girls (or anyone for that matter) but I have to admit the scenes were pretty hot. And there is no shame in admitting as much. No matter what the puritanical Christian on Twitter crying abt “god honoring lesbian sex” Will tell you.
I cannot begin to explain just how hype and relatable it was to see Magia Baiser defeat Lord Enorme with the power of straight up delusion, we STAN.
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So, yeah.
It’s been a while since I last saw a Magical Girl Show so unashamed of being a Magical Girl Show. Unashamed of being weird, of praising the genre and just enjoying it.
My essay is titled, in part, as a joking reference to my much more popular series “MLB is the worst thing to happen to the magical girl series”. Which I still think is true.
And while, yeah, maybe GOMG isn’t the best thing to come out of the genre…I still think it’s good that it came out.
A lot of people say they want a more “mature” take on Magical Girls but - this proved to me that just isn’t the case.
Gushing over magical girls proves that the Magical Girl Genre Can Be so much more than what people think. More than glitter and sparkles, more than vapid action scenes, or what little girls want.
Much like any other genre, it can be raunchy, it can be messy, it can explore things outside of the status quo. But it can still deeply respect the source material, and the origins of it.
GOMG proves Magical Girls can be fun. Just. Straight up fun. Regardless of your age. They can serve and connect you to parts of yourself you didn’t realize you could connect to.
I hope it proves to more people that the genre can be so much more than “just for little girls” that parodies can be more than pointing and laughing, and that it can have themes beyond just, “friendship”.
Magical Girls can be so much more. You just, have to have an open mind about it.
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subway-boss-jericho · 2 days ago
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Fuck it. Silly post time
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My doodles from my class notes this + last week. I have been struggling to draw my guys on model lately so you can see some of the Struggles. go ahead, look at em. i am so human but watch me go. Anyways, these are in order from oldest to most recent (the ones I did in class today.) Trying to figure out how i want to draw them again, because it seems I can never quite do it the same way twice. Mildly frustrating, but it does leave space for silly posts like this. I hope someone else finds as much amusement in offended tynamo as I do.
AUs include spirit keeper (I've forgotten how to draw??? his hair??? which is like his most identifying feature???? don't know where THAT muscle memory went but it is GONE) and also Steady Tracks Ingo (who I have Never figured out how to draw in the first place tbh). Also pictured: an intentionally rare little ingo appearance. Also noticed I've been drawing more canon-compliant doodles than I normally do, so that's neat! Top right image (the third one) is my INSANELY botched attempt at drawing the One Move twins. Literally turbo fucked that one. look at ingo's face. Unrecognizable. Will I stop using an ink pen? when I die maybe
Anyways. God be damned I am Having Fun. Wanted to offer you my doodles in the hopes they make someone else smile too today. Oh the train is just a train, I just figured you guys would like that one. Even though I'm struggling to keep my pen steady or my lines consistent, I am still very happy with several things here. The smoke on the train, and the two middle Emmets on the very last image in particular I really love
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silly post complete. have a great timezone
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impactrueno · 1 day ago
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I saw your twt about holding back on telling stories with serious and deep tones and it reminded me of an issue I had a while back. Im a south park fan and I loved reading deep analysis of the characters. and south park being south park, people dont take it seriously and think its just funny so it doesnt deserve deep analysis like other forms of media. I always came across comments saying "its not that deep" or "doing all of that for south park" and I used to hate that so much because why are you commenting that under the authors post? In media there is like a "spectrum" of how deep you are in it as a fan, and it doesn't make you less of a fan if you like to binge watch the show when you feel like it because its funny. Someone who makes fan fiction and psychoanalyses the characters doesnt make them a better fan than you. I hate "it's not deep" because it is that deep to me, I enjoy it, but it dismisses critical thinking and discourages deep discussions about our interests. I want to learn more about the turning point for eric cartman and the friendship dynamics between the main 4. I want to read psychoanalysis of the characters and understand why they do the things they do. I loved reading fan fics with an author that understood how the characters work and put them in situations while making it believable. Whether the content was deep and serious or lighthearted and silly. I don't see those as cringe at all. What I see as cringe is trying to downplay someones time and effort. you dont care for it. cool, just dont make it our problem.
I believe in recent years, this cringe and its not that deep mentality is linked to media literacy/reading comprehension issues. On top of the fact, that fandoms right now has been "normalized", so alot of mean and rude kids and adults are in this space not having a mature and respectful conversation and discussions, as well as zero fandom etiquette. (I understand the past wasnt this magical respectful place but this behaviour has increased compared to past years).
Please don't worry about making deep content, its super fun and there will be fans of what you write/draw that will definitely be into it.
GOSH anon you are absolutely right. cringe culture has done some serious damage to people's creativity and freedom of expression. doing things in earnest is now cringe to so many people (specifically that 18-21 age where they think they're better than everyone else and everything is cringe to them, image is everything) and they actually give you shit for it?? it's crazy. the most harmless thing in the world. whenever my hey arnold comics would leave my target audience on instagram i would get the meanest comments for no fucking reason, because i was taking hey arnold "seriously" (nevermind that hey arnold is probably the nicktoon with the most emotional depth and moments besides ginger but i digress) but hey at least i'm not the one losing my marbles over some random cartoon comic on the internet.
i think rudeness in general has been too normalized not just in fandom, but in social media in general. it's sad. the only thing you can do about it is be kind as much as you can to counterbalance it. i'd like to think that rubs off on people just like how being rude rubbed off on them.
i said that thing about holding back because i'm admittedly too hard on myself sometimes. no one is calling me cringe or making fun of me for what i do, thankfully, people have been super cool and supportive. and it means a lot to me because i'm very earnest about everything i create, even when i try to hold back. i literally cannot help being myself. it's all i know how to do. i'm just glad i was able to grow a platform where i'm free to be openly passionate about the things i like, talk about them and why i like them, the little things that i find fascinating, the emotions they make me feel, all of that shit is awesome and i wish more people did that.
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neve-rook-datv · 1 day ago
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The Trouble Within - Neve Gallus’ Personal Notes - Part 3
The Lighthouse has become our sanctuary, a place where we regroup, share stories, and patch up wounds—both physical and unseen. Its walls seem to shift and breathe, adapting to the lives and emotions we bring to it, and at the center of it all, there’s Rook.
Here, within these ever-changing walls, I witness Rook’s patience in subtle ways that others might glimpse, though maybe not in the same way I do. She has a way of listening that makes each of us feel seen, as though she’s anchored in every word, no matter how tense or chaotic the room might be. When someone voices a frustration, she doesn’t push back; she responds with a calm steadiness, sometimes even with a quiet joke or a mischievous smile that has a way of breaking through the tension. Her humor, subtle and warm, draws people to her. And she leads us, not by pushing or pulling, but by embodying a quiet confidence that feels both fragile and unbreakable.
Yet beneath that easy-going surface lies a core of steel—a resolve that drives her forward, even when the path is uncertain. She makes choices with a clarity I find both reassuring and disconcerting. She’ll take risks others wouldn’t dream of, yet somehow, her decisions feel like the only logical path, as though she sees a future we don’t. I’ve seen her face down choices that would make others falter, and each time, she makes us trust her judgment, makes us believe that whatever she decides is the only way forward.
And then there’s Assan, Darvin’s griffon, who seems to have developed a fondness for her. Assan isn’t hers to claim, and yet Rook treats him with a gentle care that still catches me off guard. She slips away when she can, spending quiet moments by his side, scratching behind his ears, whispering to him in that low voice that’s soft enough to make even the griffon still. I see a different side of her in those moments, something raw and unguarded, and it’s almost too intimate to watch. And somehow, it only deepens this image I have of her—a leader with a heart she guards fiercely, yet can’t help but reveal in these stolen moments.
Watching her, I feel a weight settle within me, something I can no longer ignore, no matter how much I wish I could. Every time we leave this place, we face threats that could tear any of us from this fragile unity we’ve built. I tell myself it’s safer to keep my distance, to guard my heart from the possibility of loss. But then I see her, standing at the center of us all, carrying burdens that aren’t hers to bear, giving everything she has, even when no one asks her to.
It scares me, this pull I feel toward her, this desire to step closer when every part of me knows how easily it could all be shattered. She’s Trouble, I remind myself, but the word feels hollow now—a flimsy defense against something deeper. The Trouble is what she awakens in me—the hope, the vulnerability, the longing for something I know I can’t guarantee.
And there’s a gnawing fear beneath it all. I find myself caught in this quiet struggle, wanting to reach for her, to let myself fall into this connection that grows stronger with each passing day. But every time I feel that pull, that instinct to move closer, a darker thought settles within me—a reminder that we live on borrowed time, that every mission we embark on could be our last, and that, one day, I might lose her. It’s an ache that refuses to fade, and it only grows stronger the more I let myself believe there could be something beyond these walls.
I’m afraid of what it means to want this, to want her, knowing full well the risks we face. And yet… I see it in her eyes too, that same pull neither of us can seem to resist.
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runawaymun · 2 days ago
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Hey! Any advice on writing multi chaptered fics or just longer stories?
I feel like I'm okay for like snippets but have no idea how to write the middle of a story or move a character or story from point a to point b.
And asking you because you're writing is phenomenal and I'd love some advice.
(But if no brain space for advice I totally get that too and feel free to hide this ask or something)
(Anyway great updates on boundless and the one shot Brimbrond)
Sorry for taking so long to respond to this! I just wanted to take some good time to gather my thoughts because oh man oh boy I am a bit of a nerd about plot structure, even if I pants it a lot of the time -- because middles and structure absolutely plagued me when I was a beginner and so I spent a long, long time studying it and breaking it down.
I'm going to start with some very, very basic advice and then get into some more specific stuff. So let's talk first about how to structure a long-form plot first.
DISCLAIMER: this is how I personally structure plots. More often than not I veer off my own track. And this is a very western way of structuring a plot. It's well worth looking into how storytellers from around the world structure their work because it can vary wildly (Miyazaki is a great example of this). Take this with a grain of salt. It's a guideline which I find helpful. This is going to get very, very long. Bear with me:
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When I'm first thinking about how to create a plot around a story I want to tell, this is the process I walk myself through, and it tends to work about 75% of the time for the stories I like to tell (I'm not much of a thriller or mystery writer and those tend to have different kinds of structure). Main recipe is as follows:
Status quo - establish the setting and the character. Do this by the middle-to-end of chapter one, preferably. You can get away with drawing it out a bit in sci-fi or fantasy works that require more worldbuilding, but try not to.
Inciting incident - I won't tell you to start in media res, as that varies from writer to writer and story to story. Generally you want to have this somewhere in chapters 1-3. Say we're talking about LOTR - I'd say the inciting incident is when Bilbo goes invisible at his birthday party and leaves for retirement. Everything sort of snowballs from there (Gandalf confirming this is The One Ring, the Ring being passed to Frodo, the adventure beginning, etc. etc). This is where your character can lose something, or be confronted with a huge problem, or gain some new information. This is the point where your story really picks up.
Point of no return - your character has been presented with a problem or is put in a situation and now they have to decide what to do about it. Sometimes characters choose to run away, or choose inaction. It's up to you and your character as to what they do next.
The annoying part - the most helpful way I've ever found to think about middles is in terms of a series of decisions and consequences. Your character must decide what to do (or try to get what they want), and this will then come with consequences to those decisions. I ignore a lot of writing advice because writers seem to be very cagey about how they compose middles and plots for some reason, but the one piece I heard that helped me was: "What does my character want, and what stops them from getting it?" -- and this can be anything, right? Frodo wants (has to) take the Ring to Mordor. Luke wants to learn to be a Jedi like his father. Inspector Poirot needs to catch the murderer. Odysseus wants to return home. Each of these characters are going to make a series of decisions toward their goal, and they may be working from incomplete information, or bad paradigms, or racing against the clock, or against impossible odds. They're going to make mistakes. Over and over and over again. The middle is a series of decisions, consequences for those decisions, and obstacles (more on that later).
Point of no return 2, electric boogaloo (i.e. the actual midpoint to the story) - the part right before the climax -- the climax IS NOT the midpoint of your story, nor is it the end. This is your midpoint where Everything Fucking Sucks. Your character's back is against the wall. They have to change, or fail.
Paradigm shift: your character learns something new, or develops in some crucial way that leads to:
The climax/confrontation: 3/4 - 7/8th of the way through your plot. Frodo decides to keep the ring. Luke uses the force to blow up the death star. Anakin's fear and the manipulation from Palpatine overtakes him and he turns to the dark side. Inspector Poirot gets his last crucial piece of information and gathers everybody together for the Big Reveal. Odysseus gets home and chases the suitors out of his house. Etc. Etc. This is that Big Point in the story we all think as the most important or crucial point (but it's not. That's the key here. THE most important point is the whole middle of how we got here).
Consequences and paradigm shift 2 electric boogaloo: varies from story to story, but this is the fallout of the last decision or confrontation. Your character may reflect on what they've learned. The killer goes to jail. Frodo returns to the Shire and it's saved, but not for him. The journey your character has been on has irreparably altered them, or the world around them -- for better or for worse.
Resolution: the place where you land the story ;) what is the final impression you want your readers to have of your character, or this world?
Alright so that's all kind of nebulous. Let me give you a slightly more specific form of this plot structure that I use pretty often, because I almost exclusively write character and relationship-driven stories since that's what interests me most:
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So most of this looks much the same (the inciting incident is some kind of meetcute. The characters then have to decide if they want to have some kind of relationship -- I like to name this part the callback). Then we have a whole weird squishy section of building interest and tension, before once again we have The Big Fight (darkest before the dawn or what have you), before one or both characters have some kind of paradigm shift, they confess their feelings (or resolve the fight or whatever), and the security of the relationship is established -- happy go lucky times, everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.
So the middle here is of course still squishy and nebulous, but the focus here is still on "What decisions are the characters making? What are the consequences of those decisions? What are they learning, and how do they respond to it?" Maybe the tension is in one character being more reticent, while the other is more open. Maybe the tension is a sexual tension (will they, won't they?). Maybe a character is working off of incomplete information, or a misunderstanding, and that needs to be cleared up before the relationship (or even their own personal growth) can progress (both Elrian and Thalionel in Stars and Boundless Sky follow this pattern). The middle is a push-pull between your character's desires and outside forces that are stopping them from getting what they want, or achieving what they want to achieve.
So okay, that's all well and good. That's basic plot structure. Let me get into my thought process about middles specifically:
Begin with your ending in mind. I do not mean that you need to have like the whole resolution to your story fleshed out. If you're that kind of writer, great! But if you're more of a pantser like me, then that can be a big ask. Instead, ask yourself: what do I want my character to have learned by the end of the story? How do I want them to have changed, or grown? Do I want it to be for better, or for worse? Is there a specific plot goal you have in mind? (saving the world, or catching the murderer, solving the mystery, exorcizing the ghost, the couple getting together at the end, the found family finally gelling with each other, or whatever).
Once you have that thought in mind, now start to think about what your character might need to get from their starting point to their ending point. If it's a murder mystery, this is your information gathering section. You can lead your character to wrong or right conclusions. Have them make mistakes. Etc. etc. If it's a romance, this is where you create a string of scenes where the characters have opportunities to interact and learn more about each other (works for platonic slowburns, too). If this is a traditional hero's journey, this is where you plop in your actual journey.
Not to repeat this ad nauseum, but your middle is all about getting your character to your end goal, but in the most difficult way possible lmao. Let them make mistakes. Let them make bad decisions -- and then follow through with the consequences of those bad decisions. Give them bad information. This is where understanding your character's fundamental flaws becomes extremely important. Your entire plot, imo, stems from your character's fundamental flaws -- because ultimately that is what is going to slow them down the most from reaching their goal. Sure, you may have the big bad evil guy (bbeg), but we're not worried about him. That's an external factor and that's easy to drop in when you need a quick problem to place in front of your protagonist -- but that problem needs to be in service to your character or your worldbuilding. Teach them something. Give them an opportunity for growth. Aragorn needs to lead at Helm's Deep so he can inhabit his leadership role. The mountain pass of Caradhras needs to force the Fellowship through the mines so that Gandalf falls fighting the Balrog and comes back leveled up and ready to fight, and other characters in the fellowship have a chance to grow into their roles without relying on Gandalf for leadership. Your middle is all about crafting little opportunities for character growth, always while moving toward your end goal -- whatever that may be.
The paradigm shifts are crucial, and they can shift for better or for worse. It's up to you and your characters and the story you want to tell as to which it'll be.
If you're bored, your reader is bored. Only write what excites you, skip all the rest, and make it make sense at the end -- I'm so serious. Yes you need to add in breaks for pacing (like the whole Rivendell section in LOTR), but in those breaks still make sure that you're either expanding your worldbuilding, or giving your characters and opportunity for growth.
If you want to tell a really long (novel length) type of story, sideplots and alternate POVs are your best friend. They are structured exactly the same as a regular plot, they're just simpler or smaller and generally work in service to the main plot. Maybe there are side characters or side relationships you'd like to develop. Maybe there's a smaller mystery or a part of your worldbuilding you'd like to explore. Action plots can be side plots to romantic or platonic slowburn plots, just as much as it can be the other way around. And this is not something you need to structure out the gate. Just be curious and playful. Find points in your story that interest you, and explore them a bit. You'll find that they expand the story.
Biggest and best tip I can give you, when all is said and done, is to decide what kind of story you want to tell and then examine how other people are doing it. If you want to write a superhero story, pick out your favorites and look at how they're structured. If you want to write a mystery, same thing. If you're writing a romance or a drama, again -- same thing. Look at the pieces of fiction that you like, figure out what you like about it, and then apply it to your own work.
That's all the general advice off the top of my head. IDK how helpful this was lol. If you want more tips on middles I can try to look at it a bit more in depth, but to be quite honest middles are really what defines a genre. Romances have different middles to thrillers. Thrillers have different middles to mysteries. Mysteries have different middles to dystopian sci-fis. Etc. Etc. So take the general advice with a grain of salt and look more specifically at the genre of story that you're looking to tell.
Thanks for coming to my tedtalk <3
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gilded-sunrays · 12 hours ago
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Hello there, I just wanted to say how much I enjoy your posts! This is actually my first time making a request, and I'm not sure if you're currently taking them, but I thought I’d ask anyway.
Would you be able to create a scenario or imagine something sweet involving sleeping with yoriichi? Nothing explicit, just something heartwarming would be great! No pressure if you’re not up for it, and take your time. Wishing you a wonderful day or night!
**I know I just asked this for Kokushibo but I can't help it, I'm in love with them both! If it's not possible to create both, that's totally okay I'm happy with whatever you come up with 😇😇
ᥫ᭡ Sleeping w/ Yoriichi
Pairings⌇Yoriichi × Reader insert [Yoriichi and Y/N are in a pre-established relationship, ie married]
A/N⌇Thank you so much for your kind words! And pff np! I hope you like it ^^
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𖤐ˎˊ˗Masterlist
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▪︎Yoriichi is deeply affectionate when he shares a bed with you.
▪︎ If you prefer otherwise, however, he is completely understanding, allowing you to rest in whatever manner is most comfortable for you. 
▪︎With his strong arms protectively wrapped around you against his chest, Yoriichi would make sure that you were in the safest hands while asleep.
▪︎He finds great comfort in having you nestled in his embrace, where he shielded you from all the harshness of this rule world within his warmth.   
▪︎Yoriichi's presence is as calm as the solitude between wide stars. His breaths are soft and quiet as a peaceful sky, and his movements are minimal.
▪︎Aside from his pleasant warmth, at times you can't even tell if he's even there—his presence is akin to that of the pillows you two shared.
▪︎Well, his is just as soft too..  
▪︎Given his incredible control over his body, Yoriichi can effortlessly adjust his body temperature to make sure you were warm on particularly chilly nights, as well as lowering it down when you feel overheated.
[Considering how many hashiras can already stop their hearts, their bleedings, and whatnot.] 
▪︎No threat could even dare attack you while you're asleep, for obvious reasons.Just as Tanjiro's father could detect a bear from a distance while asleep—Yoriichi senses would be far, far more heightened.
▪︎Sensing a threat in the middle of sleeping and taking care of it was as effortless as a leisurely stroll, although somewhat bothersome. 
▪︎Though you have no idea what Yoriichi would do to ensure your safety. For him, ensuring your protection was the bare minimum he could do.
▪︎In fact, he could even tell how many bugs or beetles are roaming around outside your house in his sleep, which he would make sure to take care of in the morning. 
▪︎Moreover, whenever you would experience a nightmare, Yoriichi would instantly sense your distress. He would draw you closer to him, cradling you against his chest while gently patting your head and caressing your back to comfort you.  
▪︎In more severe situations, such as when you experience sleep paralysis, he would promptly rouse you from it.
▪︎After ensuring you are awake, he would fetch you a glass of water and take the time to help you relax.
▪︎Your well-being is of top priority for him. Moreover, seeing you in distress would deeply sadden him, even though he maintains a stoic demeanour.    
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mauveastrum · 12 hours ago
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Classics student’s guide to romanticising november
While I personally love november, I understand why some people can’t really always appreciate it; especially where I live, it gets real gray around this time, when autumn still lingers and Christmas and winter are quite not here yet. A liminal space. Here are some little tips, habits, things from wellness to whatever that I like to enjoy in november when I’m not cooped up in the library battling with the attic verb system. :)
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Coffee to wake you up in the morning, maybe another one at lunch if your short nights sleep is still lingering; different teas throughout the day to keep you warm from the inside as the weather gets chillier each passing day
a bowl of (warm) porridge with your favorite toppings in the morning, either prepared at home or ordered at a cafe with your friend
Dark red nails, preferably long, preferably with small metallic accents (I prefer gold and bronze, silver works very well too)
Seasonal fruits and vegetables; pomegranates! Persephone’s journey to Hades has once again taken place.
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Adding a little bit of darkness to your eyes, it’s your pick whether that’s with kayal, smudged eyeliner, eyeshadow or just a gracious layer of mascara; but remember to not rub your eyes when you stayed too late at the library translating Catullus’ latin poetry! Alternatively, just rock those dark underyes baby
November is the month of poets, artists, thinkers, lovers and wanderers, you know what they say. Write, draw, think, love, wander! I keep a diary where I try to write everyday. Try to find small pleasures in the mundane and write them down. Beauty is omnipresent. I also have been trying to sketch more when I don’t have the energy nor the time to complete complex illustrations and paintings. Small but meaningful.
Pretty candles, scented or unscented, perhaps each one lit as an honoring to a god, goddess, daimon or your lares; in the colder months I like to light a candle in honor of Vesta/Hestia and ask her to keep my apartment warm
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Preparing for winter by slowly switching to more thicker and moisturizing skin- and haircare products. Do this as you run out of one product, don’t give in to overconsumption, be mindful with what you buy and what you put on your skin and hair
Remember to move your body. Whether this is walking, running, stretching, strength-training, pilates… the options are endless and the choice is yours! Even little movement can help you fight that seasonal depression.
Big scarves, long jackets, leather gloves. Gives you an aura of mystery and keeps you protected from the weather
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These are just some of my favorite things at this time. If you read through all of this I’d really love to hear if you have your own sacred little rituals around this time of the year. Thank you for being here, remember to be kind to yourself and others, and speak up for those whose voices are being silenced. Go make your novembers mythical🖤
Valete,
Mauve
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