#verse;; reaching for the beautiful world

[emmetrain]

@flcreinventor ❛ i’ve come to a point in my life where i need a stronger word than fuck. ❜ from team flare clemont

"Then words will not cut it, Clemont. You need a hobby to take your mind off the stuff you are dealing with." Emmet hops onto an empty desk, crossing his legs as he takes out a small Joltik robot he was working on, setting it on the desk. The transparent plastic body shows the cables and the work inside.

"We have to work to reach our goals as a team, but it does not mean you should burn yourself to the point of derailment. We need you and your work here." He pressed on the robot's back with a finger, applying pressure enough for it to light up and crawl towards Clemont. "So, you can embark on a new journey by reverse-engineering the prototype I have right here, and point out where I went wrong and what I could improve on. Let's compare our notes, OK?"

Also, a sigh... "And... You might need to talk about it. I am here to listen. Team Flare is my family, and I am not going to let you be alone when you need us."

[chrissturnsfav]

Following the anon i sent so I was thinking that singer!reader has always struggled with loving her like thighs and stomach or smt but hear me out if you’re comfortable with it maybe some mentions of self harm like

A scenario

So reader and Chris are laying in bed cuddling or some shit and he’s like tracing his fingers up and don on her thighs and he notices her scars orrr

They’re laying and he compliments her and she goes on a rampage of how she’s not and how ugly her stomach is or smt

⋆.˚✮ rapper!chris knows how to make singer!reader feel pretty

tw: mentions of body image issues

you're sat on the edge of the couch in chris' big living room, scrolling through photos on your phone. your gaze lingers a little too long on a paparazzi picture of yourself from last weekend, your legs prominently featured. a familiar wave of self-doubt washes over you, and before you can stop yourself, you mutter under your breath, "fuck, my thighs look huge."

chris, who’s been freestyling under his breath while jotting down lyrics in his notebook across the couch, freezes mid-bar. his head snaps up, and his eyes narrow, like he can’t believe what he just heard.

"hold up, what'd you say ma?"

you glance at him, trying to play it off. "nothing, forget it," you mumble wearily as you shake your head.

"nah, nah, we ain't doin' that." he gets up, his notebook abandoned on the coffee table, and strides over to you. "what’s this bullshit 'bout your thighs?”

you sigh, trying to avoid his gaze, but chris crouches down in front of you, his icy blue eyes locking onto yours.

"they’re just... big," you mumble. "like, bigger than they should be."

chris scoffs like you just insulted his entire existence. "bigger than they should be? mama, stop fuckin' wit me right now."

you try to laugh, but it’s weak. "i’m serious, chris. i see all these girls online with these slim legs, and then there’s me. i just feel...i dunno...out of place, i guess."

he sits beside you, shaking his head, still looking like he’s offended on your thighs’ behalf. "you’re trippin'. hard. have y'seen yourself? like, really looked at y'self? 'cause if y'did," he says, reaching out to lightly squeeze one of your thighs, "you’d know your thighs are perfect. thick, pretty, sexy as hell—are you serious?"

your cheeks heat up, and you roll your eyes, but he’s just getting started.

"y'know what your thighs say to me?” he continues and smirks a bit, leaning in. "they tell me you're perfect, tell me y'got the full package. tell me you’re built like a model, and that i’d be a dumbass not to appreciate you."

you can’t help but laugh at his over-the-top delivery, and he grins, knowing he’s getting through to you as he brushes his fingers lightly over the smooth skin on your thigh.

"listen baby," he starts, using his free hand to gently cup your jaw and turn your face to his, "i know the world tries to tell girls all this bullshit 'bout what they’re supposed to look like, but lemme tell you sum'n real: you are it for me. all o'you. those thighs you’re trippin' over? they’re one of my favorite things 'bout you."

he moves his hand down to your knee, his thumb drawing little circles. "so stop comparin' yourself to edited pictures on the internet, aight? you’re real, 'n you’re beautiful, 'n if anyone’s got a problem wit' that, they can see me 'bout it."

your chest feels lighter, the weight of insecurity lifting under his unwavering gaze and heartfelt words. you smile, finally meeting his eyes.

"okay," you whisper.

"okay?" he teases. "that’s it? after i jus' dropped the most fire compliments of all time?"

you laugh again, swatting his arm. "thank you, chris. really."

"'course," he says, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. "now stop geekin', i gotta go write a verse 'bout how my girl’s got the finest thighs in the game."

you roll your eyes, but your smile lingers long after he’s returned to his notebook on the other side of the couch.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: i'm not comfortable writing about self harm, so i hope this was good!

thank you for reading!! <3

tags: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @swagalicious260 , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott

@chrissturnsfav ™

[ryescapades]

hello rye! <3 congratulations on reaching 1k followers, you deserve all of them & so much more // i've read all your works, and i can't express in words how amazing of a writer you are ☘︎

for your milestone event can i request:

rin itoshi + sfw + "hey, look at me"

thank you & i wish you the best of lucks on midterms + finals :3c

→ EVENT OVERVIEW

prompt: 17 - “hey, look at me.” characters: itoshi rin (bllk) x f!reader contents: comfort/fluff, reader gets bothered by some sleazy guys erm wc ~ 1k

a/n: ruruuu my beloved i uhh dunno what to think of this personally but i hope it’s better for u than it is for me shsdfdfk and thankyou sm for participating and the kind words ilyy !! <3 (not proofread!)

your date has been going so well today.

you had planned this so long ago, wanting to go to the aquarium with rin. it’s been quite a while since you’ve had some alone time with him, considering how busy he is with soccer so it’s only right that he’d wanted to spend the whole day and more with the one he treasures the most.

the aquarium itself was a blast; you had fun learning about and looking at all the beautiful sea creatures, though rin would argue that there’s entirely something— or someone— else that was worthy of being labeled as the embodiment of beauty itself.

he would never say that out loud, of course.

the aquarium aside, the rest of the day went by pretty leisurely. after getting yourselves some matching trinkets (you think that the faint blush brushing his cheeks when he holds the dainty ornament in his hands is the loveliest, most incredible sight you’ve ever seen), the two of you decided to check out the new ramen place downtown, catch up a little bit over lunch (you did all the talking, unsurprisingly) before ending up taking a stroll in the park nearby.

everything’s turning out wonderful, until it was not.

while the two of you were preoccupied in your own little bubble, a few wandering tourists had interrupted you to ask for some help. the both of you knew that giving some mere instructions would be too vague, so you had convinced him that you didn’t mind waiting as he showed them the way instead as he was more versed in their language. rin wanted to dispute, not wanting to leave you alone even just for a second, let alone 3 minutes, though he begrudgingly obliged after one look of assurance from you.

the world would’ve been a better place if some people knew how to keep their hands to themselves and mind their own business, really.

all the while you’re waiting for rin to come back, you catch sight of a couple guys standing just a few feet away, their leering eyes hooked on you as their faces spell nothing but trouble. you try not to visibly grimace, turning away from them as you start chanting in your head for your boyfriend to return quickly and wish that by some miracle he could feel your (hopefully) telepathic distress.

you’d wanted to walk away but unfortunately for you, you don’t get far as a few seconds later, a bold finger taps on your shoulder to gain your attention. turning around, you feel your body tense at the men suddenly looming over you with a grin looking oh so sweetly on each of their faces.

“hey, you alone here, sweetheart?” you resist the urge to visibly roll your eyes at the petname. with a reluctant smile, you shake your head at them before starting to walk off. “i’m heading somewhere else, sorry.”

persistent like a parasite with the intent to make your life worse, they fall into steps behind you. you’re feeling the urge to curse at the inconvenience of the part of the city you’re currently at, reprimanding yourself for waiting at such an isolated place. “here with your friends? or family?” one of them presses, and your heartbeat rises as they begin to get closer.

“boyfriend, excuse you,” you huff quietly under your breath, wanting to lose yourself in the incoming crowd as you anxiously walk faster. you would’ve been fine with tolerating them until they’d eventually get bored of your lack of enthusiasm, if not for the slimy hand that suddenly extends out to harshly grasp yours from behind, triggering your fight or flight response as your heart goes plummeting down to your stomach in dread.

“oh, come on! we just wanted to–” the scream that has bubbled up in your throat doesn’t get to escape, however, when another figure comes barreling towards the man, a raged hand reaching up to fist at the latter’s collar. your wrist is then freed, and you gingerly rub at the skin as if to wipe away the foreign touch.

“she’s clearly not interested, you bastard.” your boyfriend’s gravely tone enters your ears, and you’d almost cried out in relief at his appearance. there was a dangerous and deathly lilt to his voice, and something about it makes you shiver for some unknown reason.

you initially don’t have any clue as to how badly affected rin is by the situation with how he has his back towards you but the way rin’s grip on the stranger’s shirt tightens, proven by the flexing and slight quivering of his arm. not to mention you can hear the man’s audible gulp, so you know it’s not a pretty sight.

“w-whoa, sorry, man. we were just…” the other guy trails off, and you had almost sympathized with how genuinely terrified they look but it’s really not worth the effort to cause such a commotion here so you try to get him to calm down. “rin,” you call out, tugging slightly at the hem of his shirt.

you can see him tensing at your voice for a few moments, then with as much reluctance as he can muster, the striker roughly shoves the man away before backing up slightly to hide you behind him, and they both immediately scurry off into the distance. rin doesn’t take his eyes away from the two, fists clenching and teal orbs sharpening like daggers as if to make sure those jerks are undoubtedly not coming back.

your heart squeezes at this whole ordeal. soothingly sliding your hand down the length of rin’s arm, you languidly take his hand to unfurl the whitening knuckles by weaving your fingers with his. “rin,” you press, reaching up to turn the side of his face towards you. “hey, look at me.”

your boyfriend snaps his head towards you then, tension leaving his body when his eyes land on you. he doesn’t protest when you pull him down by the back of his neck, bumping your forehead against his with a gentle thump, a silly method you’d picked up whenever there is a need to ‘knock’ some sense into him.

because the only way for itoshi rin to simmer down and regain his control is exactly that; having you close to him in whatever way possible.

“i’m here, baby. i’m okay,” you mumble against the shared space between your mouths, and rin doesn’t resist the magnetic pull as he pecks your lips once before planting another one on your forehead. “should’ve brought you along,” he mumbles, exhaling warmly against your skin.

you let out a chuckle, “hm, you’re right…” you feignedly ponder, pulling your intertwined hands together as the two of you start walking again, “though as much as i am thankful, you do look quite hot there getting all mad. and cute too, i guess. like an angry kitty, you know?” you quip, glancing at him with a small teasing smile.

a tinge of pink dusts the apple of his cheeks, his eyebrows furrowing in slight offense. “am not,” rin grumbles.

“are so,” you counter, lightly bumping your shoulder against his side.

“... am not,” he bumps back.

“angry rinnie.”

“shut up.”

taglist open !

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[cloverina]

POLAR OPPOSITES

warnings: a lot of smut, virginity taking, boob play, a little bit of spit play, piv, oral sex (m receiving), a little bit of aftercare!!

summery: sam’s been wishing to take your virginity ever since you guys started dating 6 months ago… so he convinces you to let him!

"You know, I've never really been into pink," he mused, his voice cutting through the soft music she had playing in the background. She looked up from her book, a hint of a smile playing on her lips as she met his gaze. The room was a stark contrast of their tastes: his dark posters and her pastel curtains, her cuddly teddy bears and his studded belts.

"But you love me anyway?" she asked, a playful edge to her voice. He smirked, the piercing in his lip glinting as he nodded. "Yeah, I love you even when you're blasting that… that… stuff," he said, gesturing towards her baby pink headphones. The gentle teasing was a dance they were well-versed in.

The conversation took a more serious turn as the music grew quieter. He leaned in closer, his dark eyes searching hers. "I want to take your virginity tonight," he said, his voice low and steady. She felt a flutter in her stomach, a mix of excitement and nerves. He noticed her hesitation, his hand reaching out to stroke her cheek gently. "I know you're scared," he whispered, "but I promise it'll be okay. We'll go slow."

Her heart pounded in her chest, but she nodded. She trusted him implicitly. He was the one who had shown her the beauty of submitting, of letting go. He was her rock, her anchor in a world that often felt too overwhelming. They had talked about this moment before, but now that it was here, she couldn't help the butterflies that danced in her stomach.

He positioned her on the edge of the bed, her legs dangling over the side as he placed a pillow under her back. It was his way of ensuring she felt both comforted and exposed, a gentle reminder that he was in control. The softness of the pillow was a stark contrast to the hardness of the bed beneath her, a metaphor for the delicate balance of power and tenderness that existed between them.

He paused, his eyes locked onto hers as he asked the question that hung in the air, "Are you okay?" Her heart raced, the anticipation a crescendo in her chest, but she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared, but I'm okay." His hand squeezed hers reassuringly, a silent promise that he would be gentle, that he would guide her through this moment of vulnerability.

With a nod, he positioned himself between her legs, his gaze never leaving hers. She felt his warmth, the comforting weight of his body as he leaned in. His fingertips traced the soft skin of her inner thighs, a tender prelude to the intimate act they were about to share. He took his time, his movements deliberate and measured, as if he were composing a piece of music just for her.

"Ready?" he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble in the quiet room. She took a deep breath, the scent of him – musky and masculine – filling her senses. She felt the tip of him press against her, and she nodded, her eyes never leaving his. The pressure grew, a gentle but firm reminder that he was there, seeking entry into her most private space.

With a soft moan, she felt him breach her barrier, the sensation a mix of pain and pleasure that had her body tensing for a moment before she melted into the pillow. His eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of distress. "You're doing so well, baby," he whispered, his voice soothing as he pushed in further. The music swelled around them, the sweetness of the strings mingling with the harshness of their shared breaths.

Her chest began to heave as he found a rhythm, one that grew steadier and more urgent with each passing moment. He was relentless, yet tender, his eyes never straying from hers as he claimed her in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating. She felt her walls stretch to accommodate him, her body adapting to this new, foreign sensation.

Without breaking their intense gaze, he reached up and began to tug at the hem of her shirt, inching it down with a gentle persistence. The cool air hit her bare skin, sending goosebumps across her chest. She gasped, but it was not from fear; rather, it was the sudden realization that she had been holding her breath. She nodded her consent, and he continued, revealing her pink lacy bra that matched the rest of the room.

Her breasts, usually hidden beneath layers of clothing, were now exposed to his hungry gaze. He took a moment to appreciate them, his eyes tracing the curve of her neck down to the swell of her chest. He leaned in, his hot breath against her skin as he kissed the soft mound of her breast, avoiding her nipples for now. The anticipation was palpable, a silent symphony of desire that grew louder with each beat of her racing heart.

Without warning, he took her nipple into his mouth, suckling gently at first before increasing the pressure. She gasped, the sensation a new note in the crescendo of emotions playing within her. His tongue flicked over the sensitive peak, teasing and tormenting as his rhythm grew more insistent between her legs. The softness of his lips and the roughness of his tongue created a delicious friction that had her arching her back, offering herself up to him more fully.

Her hands found their way to his hair, her nails digging into his scalp as he continued to pleasure her. His teeth grazed her skin, sending shivers down her spine, and she couldn't help but moan louder. He chuckled against her skin, the vibrations sending a new wave of sensation through her. "You like that?" he murmured, his voice muffled against her breast. She could only nod, her eyes squeezed shut as she focused on the feeling of him.

He shifted his position, his muscular arms sliding under her thighs and pushing them apart wider. The change in angle made her gasp, and she could feel him fill her even more completely. He took her mouth in a fierce kiss, his tongue mimicking the movements of his hips. The room was a symphony of their panting breaths and the rustle of their clothing.

As their kiss broke, he leaned down, his eyes never leaving hers as his mouth descended to her breasts. He sucked harder, his teeth grazing her sensitive nipples as his pace increased. She squirmed beneath him, the sensation almost too much, but she didn't want him to stop. The intensity grew, and she could feel the beginnings of an orgasm building within her.

With a primal growl, he pulled away from her chest, his eyes blazing with passion. He positioned himself at her entrance again, his hand sliding up to cup her face. "I'm going to make you feel so good," he promised, and then he was plunging into her, his hips moving with a power that she hadn't felt before. She gripped the bed sheets, her knuckles turning white as she tried to anchor herself to reality.

The whimpers grew louder, escaping her throat as his thrusts grew deeper, more urgent. Her body responded to his dominance, her inner muscles tightening around him in a silent plea for more. His grip on her face tightened, his thumb brushing away the tears that had begun to fall from the corner of her eyes. "Look at me," he demanded, and she did, her gaze locked onto his.

"Open your mouth," he instructed, his voice firm but gentle. She complied, her eyes never leaving his, and felt a warm trickle of his saliva land on her tongue. The sensation was strange, but she knew better than to protest, to trust in the experience he was crafting for her. He praised her, his voice a gruff whisper that sent shivers down her spine. "Good girl," he said, the words a benediction that filled her with a newfound sense of confidence.

With renewed vigor, he began to thrust into her, his words a steady beat that matched the rhythm of their bodies. "Cum for me," he ordered, his eyes never leaving hers. "I want to feel you cum all over my cock." Her body responded to his command, the tightness coiling within her, a storm gathering on the horizon.

Her eyes widened as the pleasure grew, a silent plea for release. He knew she was close, his own need building with every moan that escaped her lips. "Do it," he urged, his voice a mix of demand and encouragement. "Let go for me, baby." And with that, she did. Her orgasm washed over her like a tidal wave, crashing into her senses and leaving her trembling in its wake. She screamed his name, her nails digging into his skin as her muscles clenched around him.

The sound of her climax sent him over the edge. He couldn't hold back any longer, and he didn't want to. With a guttural moan, he released himself into her, filling her tight, virgin pussy with his hot cum. His eyes squeezed shut as he lost himself in the intensity of the moment, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm.

His grip on the bedsheets tightened until his knuckles were white, the fabric straining under his powerful hands. He could feel her walls contract around him, milking him of every last drop, and it was the most beautiful sensation he had ever experienced. He threw his head back, his teeth clenched as he moaned out her name, the sound echoing through the room.

Slowly, he pulled out of her, his cock glistening with their combined juices. He collapsed onto her, his weight pressing her into the mattress as he fought to catch his breath. His heart hammered against her chest, a wild drumbeat that mirrored the rhythm of their love-making. They lay there for a moment, their hearts racing together, their bodies entwined in the aftermath of their passion.

Her voice was shy, almost a whisper, when she spoke. "Can I… can I try to give you a blowjob?" she asked, her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink that matched her room. He lifted his head to look at her, his eyes still glazed with desire. He nodded, a smile playing on his lips as he leaned back to give her space.

He watched as she sat up, her baby pink panties still around her ankles. She looked like an innocent angel, her eyes wide and eager to please. She leaned over him, her hair cascading around them like a curtain, and took his still-hard cock into her small, soft hands. He groaned as she tentatively touched her tongue to the tip, tasting him for the first time.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction and love for her willingness to explore. She glanced up, determination in her eyes. "I want to," she said firmly. "I want to make you feel good too."

With a gentle nod, he allowed her to take control of the moment. She leaned over him, her soft hair tickling his skin as she took him into her mouth. He watched her, his eyes filled with awe and adoration as she fumbled at first, her tongue tentatively exploring the sensitive tip of his cock. His hand found the back of her head, guiding her movements with a gentle pressure, showing her the rhythm he liked.

But she was new to this, and her inexperience showed. She gagged, her eyes watering as she took him in too deep. He pulled back, his concern for her clear even in the haze of his own desire. "Easy," he said, his voice a gentle rumble, "Take it out." She obeyed, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink as she coughed, her eyes wide with apology.

"It's okay," he assured her, his hand moving to her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear. "Here," he said, taking his cock into his own hand, "Let me show you." He began to stroke himself, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving hers. "You want to start slow, with just the tip," he instructed, demonstrating with his own hand. "Use your tongue to get it wet, and then gradually take more."

With renewed confidence, she nodded and leaned back in. She took him into her mouth again, this time more tentatively, her tongue swirling around the head before taking a little more. His eyes closed, his breath hissing through his teeth as she found her own rhythm. She could feel him growing harder with each stroke of her tongue, his hips moving slightly to meet her mouth.

Her cheeks hollowed out as she took him deeper, her eyes watering a little as she fought back the gag reflex. She focused on his breathing, the way his chest rose and fell with each intake of air, the way his hand tightened and loosened in her hair. It was like learning a new dance, one that was both intimate and powerful.

With each stroke of her tongue, she grew more confident, her movements more assured. She could feel his excitement building, his breath coming in ragged gasps as she explored his length. She took him deeper, her teeth grazing his skin lightly, and he groaned, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily.

"Good girl," he murmured, his hand guiding her, his voice a gentle rumble that spurred her on. She felt a surge of pride at his words, the power of her submission making her wetter than she already was. She took more of him, her eyes watering slightly but her resolve unwavering. This was her gift to him, a demonstration of her love and trust.

Her movements grew more confident, her tongue swirling and teasing, taking him deeper and deeper with each stroke. He groaned, his hand tightening in her hair, guiding her as she found the right rhythm. His hips began to buck, his breathing grew erratic, and she knew she was doing well. She felt his cock thicken in her mouth, a sign of his approaching climax.

The room was filled with the sound of his heavy breathing and her soft slurps. His eyes were squeezed shut, his face contorted with pleasure. "You're doing so good," he mumbled, his voice strained. "So fucking good." His praise spurred her on, and she took him even deeper, feeling him hit the back of her throat. She gagged slightly, but she didn't stop.

His whimpers grew louder, his hips moving in sync with her mouth. "So close," he whispered, his hand tightening in her hair. She could feel his cock swelling, the pulse of his arousal beating against her tongue. She redoubled her efforts, her mouth moving faster, her eyes never leaving his.

Suddenly, with a loud, pornographic moan, he came, his warm cum shooting into the back of her throat. She could feel his hot, steamy seed fill her mouth, the salty taste of him coating her tongue. She didn't flinch, didn't pull away. Instead, she swallowed, her eyes never leaving his, taking every drop he had to give.

His eyes widened with surprise and pleasure, his grip on her head tightening as he pulsed into her mouth. She felt the warmth of his release travel down her throat, the sensation foreign but somehow exhilarating. It was as if she had conquered a new part of him, claimed a piece of him that was now forever hers.

Once his climax had subsided, he gently removed her mouth from his cock, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He pulled her up beside him, his arms wrapping around her as he cradled her close. "You did so well," he whispered into her ear, his breath warm and comforting. "Giving me your virginity, and that blowjob… You're perfect."

Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink at his words, and she nestled into his embrace. He knew she needed this, the aftercare that followed their intense moments of passion. It was his way of grounding her, of reminding her that she was safe and loved. He kissed her forehead, his hand stroking her hair as she laid her head on his shoulder.

a/n: guys this is my first time writing feedback is appreciated!😓

[centrally-unplanned]

There are two big "AI Art Discourse" events of note recently, which I thought were interesting: ACX's "AI Art Turing Test" and the new paper on "AI Poetry Beating Human Poetry". Both of these I think reveal the shape of "what is AI art for", and also say a lot about how these results were utilized in discourse.

To take the latter first, some academics quizzed people on some poetry and had these results:

We found that AI-generated poems were rated more favorably in qualities such as rhythm and beauty, and that this contributed to their mistaken identification as human-authored. Our findings suggest that participants employed shared yet flawed heuristics to differentiate AI from human poetry: the simplicity of AI-generated poems may be easier for non-experts to understand, leading them to prefer AI-generated poetry and misinterpret the complexity of human poems as incoherence generated by AI.

More human than human poems! This certainly seems impressive - and it is. You couldn't have gotten these results ~5 years ago. But that maybe doesn't mean as much as you might think? Because here is the opening half of the winning "Walt Whitman AI" Poem:

I hear the call of nature, the rustling of the trees, The whisper of the river, the buzzing of the bees, The chirping of the songbirds, and the howling of the wind, All woven into a symphony, that never seems to end. I feel the pulse of life, the beating of my heart, The rhythm of my breathing, the soul's eternal art, The passion of my being, that burns with fervent fire, The urge to live, to love, to strive, to reach up higher. I see the beauty all around, the glory of the earth, The majesty of mountains, the miracles of birth, The wonder of the cosmos, the mysteries of the stars, The poetry of existence, that echoes near and far

This fucking sucks. Straight up 2/10 poem. Did this bitch seriously establish the world's most predictable rhyme scheme only to try to rhyme wind with end? You had one job that you chose for yourself, and you screwed it up! This poem has been written a million times before, and says nothing - the Miley Cyrus lyrics of verse.

The reason this won is, yes, because AI tools have advanced heavily in the past few years. But it is also because it is being tested on a dead art. No one cares about poetry - certainly not the survey respondents:

We asked participants several questions to gauge their experience with poetry, including how much they like poetry, how frequently they read poetry, and their level of familiarity with their assigned poet. Overall, our participants reported a low level of experience with poetry: 90.4% of participants reported that they read poetry a few times per year or less, 55.8% described themselves as “not very familiar with poetry”, and 66.8% describe themselves as “not familiar at all” with their assigned poet. 

"Or less" is doing a LOT of work there; "yeah I read a few nonfiction books a year" oh sure, totally. 90% of these respondents haven't read a poem that wasn't displayed in the end credits of Minecraft since high school. No one does, poetry as a medium is essentially a relic. That isn't an insult to poets, by the way! There is no shame in being a niche. Not everyone can have the reach of hentai doujin artists; the community is small but they get a ton out of it. But you can't take the art of the community and expect that art to hit outside of it.

This survey didn't ask people to evaluate art; it asked people to evaluate their stereotypical impression of an art they don't care about. It was ~600 people hired off a website, they banged it out ASAP and moved on. This is not to invalidate the results; I am not actually claiming that "real" poets would have scored much better? Maybe, I don't know - that just isn't very relevant.

Let's swing to the AI Art Turing Test results to get more into why. Again, AI art is absolutely "art" in the sense that it is able to pass the test handily. You have to be head-in-the-sand at this point to think that AI can't make an impressionist painting a la the "most liked" art in this contest:

I have seen the "well real paintings have physicality this is a jpeg" discourse points and the cope couldn't be more real - 99% of art consumption in the modern world is digital or at least prints, let's get you back to bed grandma. But I did find it pretty funny that Scott noted this AI piece as one he particularly liked:

Because it is nonsensical, right? All that "faded paint", how was it originally painted - just bucket splashes of red and blue? What are those random doors, the random stairs going nowhere on the sides, the vague-nothings engravings? Scott just didn't care about that - he liked the vibe, right? Ancient ruins, epic scale. It isn't a coincidence that the Impressionist art did the best - current AI tools are always impressionist, they have an idea of the vibe and invent the details in between. In Impressionism that is the whole point.

Now the trap is to go "REAL artists can tell because of this or that" because idk, the tools might get better, they might fill in more and more details. The real revelation here is that you don't need the tools to get better - visual art isn't so different from poetry. Most people don't pay attention to it all that much. You see thousands, thousands of pieces of art a week; you probably don't even realize how many. Do you really care if the fading paint makes coherent sense on a billboard ad or a doctor's office wall painting? So much art that is made is "industrial" in this sense - it has no need to be good. Only good enough to fulfill its utilitarian role. In these fields AI absolutely is going to Take Your Jobs in some form, and already is (though imo not a ton of them). And it won't really bother most people. This can go pretty deep - I promise you people are "utilizing" AI porn right now. They are ~appreciating the details~ way more than is typical, the product is working.

All this works until it doesn't, though. When it is an art book by a favourite artist whose vision you want to pour over, learning that all the individual details were just made by AI completely defeats the purpose, right? Imagine reading a book of these poems. Outside of the novelty, "AI is the point" factor you would rather watch infomercials on repeat, I can't imagine a more pointless use of my time. "Reading arbitrary poems" is never fun, regardless of the quality of the poems. Most people don't care about poetry! The reason you care is that you care about the poet, and what they want to say. You read poetry with context, it being inserted with intent into the pages of a manga, at the end of a video game, because you like the artist and follow them on twitter. The quality of the prose isn't more important than that.

Which is a harsh limit for all of these kinds of tests. They essentially aren't testing art, right? You do not ever get paid twenty bucks to sit down and read a dozen poems and score them. That has no bearing on how you would actually ever learn to care about a poem. Which doesn't make AI art useless or anything, more that these tests will very quickly run into their limits of what they can meaningfully tell you. The actual bar is "creating something someone cares about". From that lens, I fully believe hybrid methods that privilege artistic intent are currently working and will improve. But I think for "solo" AI art getting that to work is going to be complicated.

[svt-luna]

ʚིᵋ ⋆ INSTAGRAM UPDATE ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── 250120: Sense Cover

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ luna's instagram

Liked by jeonghaniyoo_n, ho5hi_kwon, pledis_boos, and 7,757,777 others

lunabae wrapped in white with @/sensemagazinecoverstar 🤍

View all comments

lunalover Queen of beauty! How are you even real?!

moondancer99 Wrapped in white and wrapped around my heart 😍 absolutely stunning!

fashionisluna No one does fashion like Jiyeonie. The veil is giving bridal couture dreams 🤩🤩🤩

jeongna_child Luna in white??? Luna with a veil?!! JEONGHAN MUST BE SCREAMING RN.

↳ jeongnadaily she’s been rocking white A LOT lately 🤭

↳ jxjforever LET US NOT FORGET ABOUT THE VEIL?!? HELLO!!?

stellalight_ The veil, the pose, the glow! this is ICONIC. You’re a vision, Bae Jiyeon!

caratmoon13 Okay, but is this secretly a pre-wedding photoshoot?

↳ moonlightbae I personally don’t think it is because I don’t think they’ll marry until Han is done with his service AND I’m assuming… knowing Jiyeon, the actual pre-wedding photos will be a hundred times more better than this 👀

moonlit.soul This is a serve on another level! The veil is EVERYTHING.

jeonghanstan HERE COMES THE FUCKING BRIDE 🥹🩷🩷🩷

lunaticforreal I just KNOW Jeonghan is losing his mind over this because I know I am!!!

lunanova GORGEOUS GIRLLLLL 💖💖💖

svtqueen_ Girl, you’re out here dropping bridal hints like confetti, and we’re EATING IT UP.

etherealmoon_ This isn’t just fashion; this is ART. Luna, you’re an angel in disguise 💖

hanandluna_ We need Jeonghan’s reaction to this IMMEDIATELY. He’s the luckiest man alive 😫

softforluna BABE!! I AM ACTUALLY IN LOVE WITH YOU 😭🤍

↳ ashonashonash_ it’s actually unhealthy it’s not funny anymore 🥹

lunaticmoons STOP LUNA, THE VEIL??? YOU’RE ABOUT TO BREAK THE INTERNET AND OUR HEARTS.

jeonghaniyoo_n Angel in white. Next time, let me be the first to see it 🤍

↳ lunabae greedy…

↳ lunaticsquad SIR, WE GET IT.

↳ jeongnabiased You’re literally her fiancé. How greedy can you possibly get??

↳ lunahannie_ You’ve reached peak simp levels, and honestly, we respect it and we love to see it.

↳ marriedtogyu You’re already the luckiest man alive. Do you really need everything first?!

↳ moontastic_ Not Jeonghan gatekeeping his fiancée from the entire world 😂

↳ sebonguniv_ Jeonghan really out here reminding us that Luna is HIS and HIS only.

moonchild27 Wrapped in white and wrapped in Jeonghan’s love. I’m crying. You’re out of this world!

svtforever_17 How does one recover from this level of beauty? Asking for myself.

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUEST AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡ - lunaఌ

Taglist: @yeoberryx @minminghao @angie-x3 @jennwonwoo @k13endall @heeseungthel0ml @chisskaa @megumi2020 @yoonzzziino @lllucere @smh-anon @yveclipse @randomworker @bunnystrm @iamawkwardandshy @gratefulbunny1 @bmo-bri @syren-ash @megseungmin @multiplums @unlikelysublimekryptonite @night-storm7 @cookiearmy @seokqt @btskzfav @billboard-singer @junhuisworld @caturdayvibe @coralbatlampzonk @sof1eya @lyraea @jihoonsbbygirl @cocopuff2424 @okoknotco @minvxq @soulphoenix1618 @whineywheeiny @rairaine @toplinehyunjin @ateez-atiny380 @cherrylovescheol @jiimtaee @blurr3db3rry @seomisaho @amanda08319 @peanutbutterslothsstuff @cheolsboo @allthings-fandoms @mystic-megumi @sherlockbye @tastyluvr @luperque @reignofraine

[toto-the-cactus]

Primarchs + Daughters

My perception of how each Primarch would behave when nosediving into parenthood if they had daughters. Enjoy!

I wanna personally thank @moodymisty because a great deal of their works inspired this piece.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Lion El’jonson

The embodiment of 'tough love' made man. Having a daughter doesn’t do much to soften this guy… or at least that’s what others believe. The Dark Angels Legion are probably the only ones aware of the small gestures the Primarch often gives to his little girl in the safety that privacy offers. Where Lion lacks words of compassionate and parental love, he appropriately makes up for it with actions. He isn’t one to go over the top and prefers to give modest gifts to his daughter as the last thing the man wants is to raise a spoiled brat. Father-daughter bonding time can be summarized with strenuous training using the sword. This man will not let his precious Princess go through life without learning how to protect herself, even if he has made an oath to forever shield her too.

Fulgrim

The complete antithesis of Lion. Where this man views the Emperor as the perfection anyone should strive to reach, his beautiful daughter comes close to the second place in fulfilling that ideal. There’s a big fat chance that he teared up a little when his little gem called him Papa for the first time, but managed to wear his ever unshakable mask because he absolutely refuses to break character even in private. Has the mistaken notion that his baby is a blank canvas ready to be painted to its fullest potential; aka, molding her to what HE wants and expects of her. Fulgrim probably spoils her rotten but only through conditions that she must follow, as the Primarch understands the importance of fighting and earning for what you wish to obtain. He makes sure that any of his gene-sons are in her company as he refuses to let even a single scratch happen to his little girl. Honestly, a grown-up version of Fulgrim’s child has the chances to go both opposites of the spectrum with no in betweens: A shy aristocratic lady who is unable to speak her own mind or a completely haughty, sharp and manipulative noble woman. Too much to unpack there, yo.

Perturabo

(Slaps this bastard's head loudly) This bad boy can fit so much family trauma in it! Okay no but seriously, there’s a good reason why so many people agree that this bitch has a thing for gilded cages and all the fucked up poetry that comes with it. The good ol’ classic Greek tragedy of Medea. Perturabo may have big and insane expectations for his gene-sons but when it comes to having a daughter? The apple of his eyes. The sunshine of his life. For this Primarch, his little princess is the only living thing in the entire universe that loves him genuinely and unconditionally, making his love the equivalent of a child crushing a bird between his hands. While still easy to anger and with a resting-bitch face, he is incredibly tame and careful with his girl; always making sure that she is well versed in all kinds of science and engineering that could easily label her as a genius (but we all know how stressful can be to try and live up to big expectations). Most of his Legion finds the child either an annoyance or don’t even care enough beyond the factual point of her being the child of their mighty Primarch, beyond that? This poor girl is probably the loneliest child to ever grace the world. Remember that I referred to this like the Tragedy of Medea? Yeah…

Jaghatai Khan

Probably one of the few best papa-tier out there. This man will see his little daughter and think the only thing a good parent should do: To love and guide. He’ll be not afraid to say “I love you” to his baby girl no matter where they are, but he’ll know when to be stern and wise so she grows to be a fine and humble woman. Honestly, this guy would learn how to make a sling just for the single purpose of having his precious princess close while also being excited to teach her how to ride on a horse like he did in his childhood. The thing that makes this dude the best in this list is that if his daughter ever expresses to follow a different path in life like becoming a remembrancer or anything that doesn’t involve the Imperium, this Chad of a man will look deep into her eyes and tell her that he’ll support her no matter what. The only thing he asks is that she stays in contact as he’ll miss her terribly. Kudos to him, fr.

Leman Russ

Another one for the ‘tough love’ guys list, yo! On his defense! Hear me out… in his defense, this guy was literally raised first by Fenrisian wolves before even knowing what a proper bath entailed, so of course he’ll sometimes be a bit too much on his poor little baby girl. Roughhousing was his best first approach to teach her how to fight, trying to make his little pup have some proper backbone worthy of being called the child of a Primarch. Sometimes he’ll get carried away (either with words or actions) and is in those moments when Leman would learn what genuine and heavy guilt feels like; a very alien emotion for someone as brutal and fierce as he is. There’s no worse feeling than knowing that you are the reason behind your daughter’s tears. No one would ever say it out loud, but the way this giant of a man apologizes is by slowly and silently hugging his little girl while pouting until she hugs him back. He may suck at expressing verbally his love towards his baby, but actions are his best way to communicate and this is something his daughter eventually learns and accepts from him. Forgot to add that the entire Space Wolves Legion are not only suffocatingly protective of their Primarch’s child, but everyone takes turns when she asks them for piggy-rides or let her braid their hair.

Rogal Dorn

I don’t wanna be too mean to this poor man but lord have some mercy, trying to squeeze any emotion that doesn’t range to watching paint dry from this damn guy is already a miracle on its own. He’s probably the kind of dude that’ll leave his poor daughter in the care of his astartes and serfs while he works. Workaholic in bold, yo. It literally will take watching his poor little princess cry her eyes out for him to attempt some bonding time but man he just sucks at trying not to have a stick up his ass (Again, I’m not trying to be mean but god this is painful). This is the kind of man, besides Guilliman, that will search high and low for some paternity books to help him. At the end this father-daughter relationship can be salvageable by having a heart to heart between them both and even then, is the poor girl the one that gives more than she receives. Honestly, any daughter from Dorn has the patience of a saint. Besides this Primarch's ineptitude to properly communicate his feelings, everything else doesn’t change the fact that he loves his little princess and will do anything to make her as happy as possible so he gets some brownie points for the try.

I'll later write the second and third part of this, I swear <333

[rwrbficrecs]

A combined rec list for July & August ❤️

Before This, After That by @orchidscript (book-verse)

@dot524: Henry has a serious horse-riding injury and is in a downward spiral with his recovery until Therapist Alex pulls him out of it. I liked the sharp-edges interaction between them as they fall for each other. I actually read this one a while ago and it was just as good as a reread!

The darkest part of the forest by @everwitch-magiks (book-verse)

@suseagull04: I've loved this entire series, but this was my favorite by far so far! The way the author does world building in her fics is incomparable, even in a fic this short! I would love if she decided to make this a multichapter someday!

Count The Stars and Constellations by @everwitch-magiks (book-verse)

@suseagull04: I've said it once already this month, but it bears repeating: the way the author does world building in her fics is absolutely phenomenal! This one's an outer space saga for the ages, plus it's a multichapter, so we get to see Alex and Henry fall in love over the span of several years, and it's a bit angsty, but absolutely worth it!

An Exquisite Temptation by @tinyarmedtrex (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Henry became a Catholic priest to escape his homophobic family. Never did he expect to meet a stunningly attractive and equally charming, mouthy Texan who would seriously challenge his devout faith. Y'all can guess where this is headed, right? Delicious in so many ways: emotional, full of ‘80s vibes, angsty, smutty—an absolute masterpiece! Chef’s kiss!

How to get over Henry Fox: A list by dazedandconfused (book-verse)

@na-dineee: This AU is set in 2002, and Alex breaks up with the love of his life Henry. Even though it's clear they’d only be apart for a year, the story is still so gut-wrenching. The hurt and angst really got to me—reading that fic is a challenge, but it's absolutely worth it.

late night devil (put your hands on me) by @nine-butterflies (book-verse)

@suseagull04: The way this author took a 4 chapter fic and gave the world so much history and lore is absolutely incredible! Plus there are so many moments of Alex and Henry's relationship that're reminiscent of the book. Everything about this fic is amazing- and it's also definitely a good fic if you're looking for something for Halloween when it arrives soon!

right there beside him (all summer long) by @theprinceandagcd (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: The winter in Australia had me craving a story with summer vibes and this fic was perfect for that. Loved everything about this fic!!

Interrupted (series) by RadioFriday (book-verse)

@dot524: Henry is diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, just like his dad was. This story follows him and Alex through their painful journey, including the end of it and beyond. Read this if you’re in the mood to have your heart broken, over and over.

the very essence of love by dollarstoreannabethchase (book-verse)

@suseagull04: It's RWRB, but from Henry's POV. The angst of the original is heightened in this (believe it or not, it can be done), but that makes the ending that much sweeter, and I loved the insight into Henry's thoughts!

somewhere in your world by @callmevenji (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Prince Henry, student at Oxford, tries to reach a hook-up gone wrong – and ends up texting someone else entirely: Alex. A deep chat friendship unfolds, while simultaneously Henry begins to fall for the charismatic FSOTUS. Whether it’s the universe at work, coincidence, or fate, the pleasure of reading this heartfelt fic is indescribably beautiful !!

In the Grand Scheme of Things by @itsmaybitheway (book/movie-verse)

@suseagull04: Meet cute at a wedding, instant attraction, intellectual banter- this fic has it all! Plus this is the best AU characterization of firstprince I've seen in a while, it's fantastic!

marked by rizcriz (book/movie-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: a soulmate AU with some extra drama - Henry learns that the reason he hasn't met his soulmate was his grandmother's plotting. Extremely well executed - my heart was breaking and then singing when it all turned out well.

Someday Soon I’ll See You (But Now You’re Out of Sight) by MaryaDmitrievnaLikesSundays (book-verse)

@dot524: In the mood for some intense angst? I needed like two business days to recover from reading this one. The story is a devastating view of complex grief as different characters deal with Alex’s death. I thought that the odd and asynchronous ways the grief manifests for different people was raw, real, and well done.

peace by @raysletters (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This is the Sky High AU I didn't know I needed! I love how this isn't a carbon copy of the movie but uses each character's strengths and weaknesses- and it's also just a very cute magic high school AU, which is just the cherry on top!

Son of a Gun by foux_dogue (book-verse)

@na-dineee: I hope you’ve all read 'It's not a secret' by now? I wasn't aware until it was published, but I needed that follow-up so badly! In this fic, which can be read as a standalone, Alex cuts down his work as a tattoo artist to take care of the kids (good thing Henry is loaded) and inevitably has to deal with the Milton-Saylor Academy Mom Squad. Absolutely wholesome, full of domesticity—just like, excellent!

You Set The Tone by @iboatedhere (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Alex is an emergency room doctor and Henry a pediatrician in the same hospital, and their animosity (read: infatuation) with each other began just as unfortunate as in canon. Their gradual coming together, intertwined with the medical emergencies, is wonderfully crafted. The tension is effortlessly maintained over 70k words, never feeling contrived. I was so moved while reading, it hurt phenomenally good, and I cried more than I have in a long time.

pick your poison babe (im poison either way) by sheWritesToLiveVicariously (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Co-workers to lovers with lots of emotion and a touch of angst—it never gets old, right? This 5+1 story is part of the "little moments that pass us by" series, and like all the stories in it, it's rather short, but full of feeling, very soft, and so touching. I'm already looking forward to hopefully many more fics in this series.

Down In The Valley by @aforgottennymph (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: This Stardew Valley AU was such a lovely read and as an avid stardew valley player, I thoroughly enjoyed all the little easter eggs and references to the game. Even if you’ve never played Stardew, this is still such a sweet and delightful read!!

[sonamytrash]

Little one

Levi x reader fic about the birth of your first child. All fluff.

Warnings: Pregnancy, birth, labour, discussion of birth.

(I'm not as well versed with human parturition as I am with animals, couldn't tell you how many animals I've delivered. But I've tried to keep the science out of it for the most part.) Enjoy!

The sky was a perfect shade of blue, untouched by a single cloud. A soft breeze rustled through the leaves of the trees, their delicate greenery dancing in the afternoon sunlight. It was the kind of day that made you want to throw open the windows and breathe in the fresh air to revel in the simple beauty of nature.

The sunlight streams through the tall, arched windows of the conference room, casting a warm glow across the polished wooden table. The air is heavy with the scent of freshly brewed tea and the faint sound of birds chirping outside. It was a beautiful afternoon in spring, and yet there was an undercurrent of tension that seemed to permeate the room.

The familiar scent of your shared home greeted Levi as he burst through the door. He calls out your name, his voice hoarse from fear and adrenaline. The quiet that meets his ears is unsettling before he hears movement and a cry of discomfort from upstairs.

He enters the bedroom to see your face contorted in pain, one hand clutching the sheets, the other resting on your swollen belly. You let out another anguished groan.

Levi rushed to your side, his heart in his throat. "I'm here. I'm here. I love you," he murmured, taking your hand in his. Your eyes fluttered open, and you forced a weak smile.

"You made it." You whispered, gripping his hand tightly. "It hurts, Levi." Your voice broke, and you let out a shuddering breath. He could see the sweat beading on your forehead, the effort it took for you to breathe.

Levi's brow furrows with concern as he watches you grip his hand and the bedsheets, the lines of pain etched across your features. Brushing a stray lock of hair from your flushed face, he leans in, his steely gray eyes filled with a rare softness.

"I'm here, I've got you," he assures you, his voice firm but gentle. He reaches down to rub your back, hoping to offer some comfort. "You can do this. You're the strongest person I know."

You close your eyes and let out a shaky chuckle, "That's something coming from humanities strongest." You reply, your humerus side still shining through despite the pain, right as you feel your body tensing as another contraction grips you. Levi holds your hand tightly, feeling helpless as he watches you suffer. Wishing there was something he could do to take away the pain, to make it all better, as many fathers have thought before him.

"Just focus on breathing. I'm not going anywhere." Glancing up at the midwife, he arches a questioning brow. "How much longer?"

The midwife examines you again, "Not long now, you're doing great." She comments reassuringly rubbing your shoulders, smiling at Levi.

"You can do this," he whispers, kissing your forehead. "You're almost there." He could see the tension easing from your body as the contraction faded, and he took the opportunity to rub your back again, hoping to ease some of the pain. Guiding you to sit back comfortably on the bed.

Nothing in this world had frightened him like this. No calibre of titan could ever cause him to feel so scared and so helpless as he did in these moments.

"You're doing great. Just a few more pushes." The midwife exclaims reassuringly from the foot of the bed.

"You're doing amazing." He says again, though he's not entirely sure you're listening to him at this point. He watches as the midwife guides you through the next push, feeling an overwhelming sense of pride and awe as he watches you bringing your child into the world. A level of strength he has never seen from another human before.

Another contraction makes itself known, and you let out a primal scream that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room. Levi holds you tightly, and he feels your body tensing, bracing himself for the final push for what feels like forever.

You let out a long, shuddering breath, your body relaxing into Levi's arms as the final contraction eased and the sound of a crying baby echoes through the room.

"Congratulations, mum and dad," the midwife says with a warm smile, deftly  cutting the umbilical cord and cleaning the baby up, bringing them to your chest. "You have a healthy baby boy." Levi's heart soars at the words, and he can't help but let out a shaky breath. Everything happens so fast, and yet time feels like everything around him is standing still.

Levi's eyes shine with unbridled adoration as he gazes upon his newborn son, a rare, tender smile tugging at the corners of his lips as the baby settles in your embrace.

While the midwife works around you attentively, making sure you're stable and comfortable. Levi feels a surge of protectiveness wash over him as he looks down at your child, marvelling at every detail: the downy fuzz on his head, the tiny fingers and toes, his little lips pursed.

Your eyes are filled with tears of joy and exhaustion as you gaze down at your son, your chest heaving with each breath, the pain almost a distant memory.

Levi wipes a tear from his own cheek, feeling a surge of emotion so intense it's almost painful. "He's perfect."

You look up at Levi and smile, your eyes glistening with tears of joy and relief. You reach out and gently touch your son's tiny hand, fingers entwining with his. "He is."

Levi's voice is low and gruff, barely above a whisper as he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You did it, love," he whispers, his voice breaking with emotion. "You're amazing. God, I love you." He says. Shifting closer, he carefully wraps an arm around you both, his steely eyes reflecting the pure adoration he feels for his new family.

Levi brushes his fingers over the baby's impossibly soft skin, marvelling at the feeling of life, of newness in his touch.

Levi's lips curve into a faint, amused smirk as he gazes down at the dark-haired newborn, the resemblance to his own features unmistakable.

"Looks like he takes after his old man, huh?" His tone is gruff but tinged with a rare fondness as he brushes a gentle finger across the baby's downy locks. "Hopefully, he's got your personality to balance it out." He says quietly not to disturb the perfect scene in front of him.

He looks down at the dark hair that covers your sons head, the same hair that he has. It's a tangible reminder of the connection they share, of the life you've built together.

"Hello, little one,"

[galaxiasgreen]

🎼🌙Moonlight

Fluffy Ominis x MC!Reader drabble [G-rated, 800 words]

"Fitting, isn't it?" he murmurs, so quiet his voice blends with the song's deeper notes. "The verse speaks of how we wear masks to pretend all is well, but only in moonlight do our true feelings arise." "Shall we promise, then, to leave the masks behind tonight?" "I’ll promise that," he says, offering a hand, “if you'll honour me with a dance.”

In search of distraction from Ranrok's rebellion, you dance with Ominis in the Undercroft.

[read on AO3]

A/N: I originally wrote this for @yoshitsuno's #Hogtober challenge last year, but I've since made some edits. Very short and sweet, no use of Y/N (just you/yours) and MC is gender neutral. Enjoy. <3

The music lilts up the lift shaft, reaching your ears long before it clunks to a juddering stop. When the grille slides up, you tiptoe into the Undercroft. It’s a classical tune you don’t recognise, a poignant operatic with a melody that evokes a sense of sadness and beauty – and you know immediately which Slytherin will be enjoying it.

Eyes shut, Ominis is reclined against the furthest pillar. He’s dressed down today, in an unbuttoned waistcoat and loosely knotted tie. You could almost believe he was asleep if not for his wand, gently mimicking a conductor’s baton against his thigh, tapping perfectly in time with each beat.

“It’s a lovely song.”

He doesn’t stop. “From Gabriel Fauré's Clair de lune. I particularly like its message, comparing the human experience to rays of the moon.”

He gets to his feet as you drift closer. The voice swells dramatically; he flicks his wand, and the gramophone quietens.

“No, no, don’t turn it down on my account,” you say; Ominis’ hand hangs in air. “I don’t want to interrupt.”

“Why did you come?”

“To find something to do. To… distract myself. All this business with Ranrok…”

You don’t need to say anything more. He knows.

The corners of his mouth tug upwards. “There’s always homework. I believe we have eight inches to write for Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

“Already finished it.”

“Naturally. Don’t tell Sebastian though, he might want to copy.”

“If he doesn’t I’ll assume someone hexed him.”

Ominis smiles more warmly and takes a tentative step closer; in the light of the braziers, shadows writhe and bend against him, sharply cleaving his features, and it makes him look like he could set fire to the world.

"Fitting, isn't it?" he murmurs, so quiet his voice blends with the song's deeper notes. "The verse speaks of how we wear masks to pretend all is well, but only in moonlight do our true feelings arise."

"Shall we promise, then, to leave the masks behind tonight?"

"I’ll promise that," he says, offering a hand, “if you'll honour me with a dance.”

“You can dance?”

“A little. And you?”

“No,” you admit, yet you breach his space, close enough to smell his cologne, “but it might be nice to learn.”

“It’s simple.” He guides your hand to his shoulder, and clasps the other gently in his own. “If a blind man can do it, you are more than capable.”

“Don’t put yourself down like that.”

“I’m only trying to make you feel comfortable.” His tone is lighter, laced with teasing. “Follow my lead.”

His free hand goes to your waist, and the touch dizzies you as he coaxes you back, to the left, forwards again and around. Ominis commands you so well you wouldn't believe he wasn’t born to play the role of the dutiful heir of Slytherin, born to lead his pure-blood family to its inherent greatness. Were it not for his virtuous beliefs, his unwavering loyalty and kind heart, perhaps it would be true. It was that compassion that drew you to him in the first place, so long ago – and it's the small ways he continues to prove his compassion that keeps you there, a stalwart presence at his side.

With him, leaving the mask behind is easier.

“Let the music show you the way,” he says, when you curse after a misstep. “Feet position doesn’t matter so much as the reason we're dancing.”

You step in again, basking in his scent. “What are we dancing for?”

“That depends on you.”

“To peace, then.” You smile at him though he cannot see. “We dance to carve out a moment of peace.”

“I like that.”

He leads, you follow. The Undercroft becomes your stage, Ominis the prince that sweeps you away. There is no rebellion, no school, no expectation of society, responsibility, or real life. All you see is him, all you feel is his compassion, the shadows that yield to him giving you room to breathe. He may have darkness at his beck and call, and you the tumult of an incoming storm, but together you make something brilliant and beautiful. Together you make the lone ray of the moon that lights the way through the everlasting night.

“You see?” he says, with that inexplicably captivating softness. “You're a natural.”

You squeeze his hand.

“I have a good teacher.”

A loud cough jerks Ominis back, out of your grip.

The grille closes, and Sebastian strolls inside, robe thrown over his shoulder, looking terribly smug.

“Interrupt something, did I?”

“No,” Ominis barks at once, that softness replaced by calloused edges and walls. He steps a polite distance away, but doesn’t turn his back. “You presume too much.”

“Or I don’t presume enough?”

You sweep down your robe, fixing Sebastian a glare. He only wiggles his brow at you. Ingrate.

“Either way, stop that racket. I need absolute silence to copy your Defence Against the Dark Arts essays.”

Moment dashed, masks on, Ominis makes a weary grunt and goes to turn the gramophone off… but you don’t miss the smile that lingers on his face.

Fin.

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed <3

[read on AO3] [Gabriel Fauré's Clair de lune on YouTube] [Divider credit]

[emmetrain]

VERSES Masterpost;; (Info under readmore!)

[[ Every verse is available upon request :3c ]]

verse;; tomorrow if i ignite ;; Emmet and Ingo, verse takes place till age 18 where they finally run away from home.

verse;; the twin trouble ;; Twins before Hisui incident. They got separated at age 24 as I hc. Homeless for a year, depot agent for another year, and Subway Bosses after then.

verse;; searching for the truth ;; MAIN BLOG VERSE (1). During the 4 years of Ingo's disappearance, where Em is searching endlessly for his twin. They are 28 when reunited. Includes the variation of Em temporary residing in Hisui after he manages to go there to pick Ingo up.

verse;; welcome home ;; Post-Hisui, Ingo's Home safe and sound, either through Em's time-travel shenanigas through off-screen Dialga intervention, or through Lusamine's ( luminiferous-quintessence ) and Volo's ( gcd-fcrsaken ) help. Emmet is a faller in the latter. MAIN BLOG VERSE (2).

Alternate universes;;

verse;; our toy soldier ;; A nameless Rocket grunt. Em is around 32 years old. ???

verse;; no longer do as I am told ;. A trickster, thief, and a huge softie who is travelling along his houndooms from his Rocket days, staying out of sight after faking his own death. Takes the name 'Kudari', mostly seen around Kanto or Alola. BABY.

verse;; reaching for the beautiful world ;; To get Ingo back, Emmet joins Team Flare and follows Lysandre , but he did not expect to be asked to pay the Price, which was giving up on Ingo and dedicating himself completely to the Cause. Now, he treats Flare like a brother, over-protective and hard-working. Secretly holds onto hope that his sacrifice will mean Ingo's return. EVIL.

verse;; for the people who are still around ;; After an incident where Emmet suffers a huge loss (after 7 years of searching for Ingo), he believes Ingo had caused it and betrayed him, so Emmet gives up on him. 8 more years have passed, and now he (39) is Unova's first fairy-type gym's leader, with his Whimsicott, fairy type Eeelketross and Galvantula. EVIL.

verse;; the threat in white ;; Dropped into Hisui instead of Ingo, with the trauma making it hard for him to talk, he finds himself shunned and isolated, with the locals taking him for a Zoruark instead. Resentment builds up inside of him, and he (30/40 years old at this poin) becomes the monster people think he is, stealing from the camps and planning to burn down Hisui. EVIL.

verse;; no maker made me ;; To make a better, kinder world, and to avoid being separated from his brother, Emmet defeats Arceus and becomes the new god :) To his surprise, he can no longer exist in the mortal plane. ??? stupid

verse;; wicked cursed heart ;; Upset over some silly stuff, Emmet takes a walk on the shore to unwind--where he gets lured by a siren, and cursed into becoming a siren. Years passes without Ingo knowing where Emmet went, and Emmet (32-ish) does not retain any memories of his human life except his name. Resenting what he became and what was stolen from him, he swears to never sing to lure another human who he can pass the curse to, so that no one will suffer like him. BABY.

[hederasgarden]

Okay you’ve mentioned several times about Scott’s breeding kink, so I just need to know how he’d react when he finally knocks his girl up. Or how he’d be with a pregnant reader, especially if they’re with Storm Par or Tyler’s crew and is out chasing storms all day

On Tuesdays my movie theatre does $6 movie tickets and with reading all your Scott and Tyler stories I’m thinking I need to go see Twisters again!

I love this ask so much!

This might surprise people who think I'm going to say he’ll become all mushy and sweet, but I think he’ll turn into an even bigger asshole. His worst qualities will come out during this time because there are so many variables he can’t control and deep down he's worried about you and the baby but probably not able to articulate it. This will manifest as him trying to exert even more control over the situation to manage his anxiety. Expect him to argue about you being out in the field with Storm Par, especially if it’s storm season. He'll have 100 different reasons why it's unsafe and won't relax until you're sitting safely in your office.

You’ve been with Scott long enough to understand how he operates, and you know his actions are driven by his desire to keep you and the baby safe and healthy. That doesn't make him less annoying though because as soon as he finds out you're pregnant, he’ll be reading What to Expect When You’re Expecting and diving deep into the latest research. Once he’s armed with all the facts, he’ll obsessively monitor what you’re eating and doing, quoting the book chapter and verse.

Those prenatal vitamins you picked up at CVS? He’ll throw them straight in the trash and tell you to take this fancy brand you’ve never heard of, claiming it’s verified by an independent lab and superior to your drugstore brand.

That cute little mobile you want to hang over the crib? Absolutely not — it’s a strangulation hazard. The old bassinet your aunt wants to give you? That’s going in the trash too because, from an engineering standpoint, it looks structurally unsound and is probably covered in lead paint.

He’ll be annoyingly confident about everything right up until the moment the baby is born. When the doctor hands him his son and he looks down at that tiny, scrunched-up face, all he feels is a wave of panic. How are the two of you supposed to take care of this fragile little thing? This is a person, not a problem to be solved and accounted for.

He’d never outwardly panic, but he knows you can see through him when you say his name softly and reach for his hand. 

"Look at me," you'd whisper, smiling at him — tired, sweaty, and beautiful after going through hell to bring his son into the world. You would look so at ease and happy that suddenly Scott would know everything would be okay because you’d be right beside him.

Together, you've got this.

Talk Shop Tuesday

[norrisleclercf1]

Day 20 of 25 Days of Christmas: Dancing to Christmas Music

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader

Rating: PG

Words: 916

As you step through the door, the familiar warmth of home envelops you, easing the day's heaviness. The chill of the outside world melts away, replaced with the gentle glow of soft Christmas lights twinkling around the room. The lights cast playful shadows across the walls, creating an inviting atmosphere that beckons you to leave the day's stress behind.

You take a moment to inhale deeply, absorbing the faint scent of pine from the Christmas tree standing proudly in the corner. It’s decorated with a mix of ornaments that tell stories of years past—each shiny piece a memory, each twinkling light a reminder of laughter and love shared. You glance over at your partner, who’s already moved to the sound of soft music filling the air, caressing the room like a gentle embrace.

Frank Sinatra’s smooth voice drifts through the living room, wrapping around you like a cozy quilt. His holiday classics spill from the speakers, punctuated by melodies that instantly evoke nostalgia and warmth. “Let It Snow,” “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”—each note invites you to lose yourself in the moment's magic.

Together, you make your way to the center of the living room, leaving behind the stresses of work and obligations. As your partner reaches for your hand, there’s a spark of connection, an unspoken understanding that this time is precious, meant solely for you. You both sway gently without a word, allowing the music to guide your movements. The outside world fades away, and it’s just the two of you dancing in your private sanctuary.

The soft rhythm of the music encourages your bodies to move together, instinctively falling into a simple dance. You find comfort in how your partner’s hand rests caringly on the small of your back, grounding you. With each step, you feel the day's tensions dissipate, and each sways a release of the burdens carried throughout the hours. At this moment, the chaos outside the world feels miles away.

Your laughter fills the space between verses. There’s something undeniably joyful about dancing in your living room, letting loose with someone you love. You glance up at the charming array of Christmas lights sparkling overhead, their soft hues mirroring the happiness thrumming within your chest. The colors intermingle and twinkle, creating a beautiful backdrop to your impromptu celebration.

As the music plays on, you find yourself lost in the moment, letting go of any lingering stress or worries from the day. You don’t need to think about deadlines or chores; all that matters is the feeling of your partner’s body against yours, the way they move with you as if you’re ideally in sync. It’s a dance of familiar steps, but the love in the air makes it feel like an entirely new experience, one that has the potential to go on forever.

With every spin, you feel lighter and weightless, as if the rhythm of the music carries you both into a realm of joy and intimacy. You twirl your partner, eliciting laughter that dances around the room like the notes in the air. Every flicker of the Christmas lights feels like a shared secret, twinkling in delight at the connection blossoming around you.

“Dance with me,” you whisper playfully, your eyes sparkling with mischief. Your partner smiles, their eyes lighting up in the soft glow of the room. With a gentle tug, they lead you into a more spirited sway, embodying the season's spirit. You take turns leading, back and forth, as if trading places in your own little dance of life.

Amidst the music, you take the opportunity to lean in closer, resting your head against your partner's shoulder. The warmth radiating from them feels like home, grounding you amidst the joy surrounding you. Through the soft fabric of their clothing, you can hear the steady rhythm of their heartbeat, synchronized with the melodic tunes echoing around the room.

And as the music shifts to a more sentimental piece, you pull back slightly, meeting their gaze. There’s a moment of quiet understanding—a pause that conveys all the words you never quite said. The room feels charged with possibilities, and you think of the softening of the day tugging at your heart, melding perfectly with the love and warmth you share.

As the song continues, you begin to speak, interspersing your conversations with laughter and soft jests. You recount memories of previous holidays spent together, tales of adventures and misadventures alike. The music mingles with your voices, each moment a thread weaving a tapestry of love and shared experiences.

In these moments, time seems to stretch, the outside concerns fading away. You realize how grateful you are for nights like this—unplanned, unhurried, and filled with the simple magic of being together. A gentle smile crosses your partner’s face; you know they’re feeling it too.

As the song's final notes begin to fade, you both hold each other close, swaying softly as the last echoes linger in the air. You can feel the love radiating between you, stronger than the glow of the lights adorning your home. It’s a reminder of the season—the joy, the warmth, and the connection that binds you together.

Days can often feel long and taxing, but moments like these make everything worthwhile. In your living room, surrounded by the soft glow of Christmas lights and the lingering melodies of holiday music, you find solace in each other's arms, knowing that the magic of the season is truly captured in shared moments like this.

[oozedninjas]

Firstly, I am a HUGE fan of your hot headcanon posts so PLEASE keep posting them! :D

Secondly, my question:

(TMNT 2003 age 20-30). How would they play with/suck your tits? Also how would they prefer you to expose them beforehand?

Hi! Thank you very much! :)

How would they play with/suck your tits?

NSFW I 18+ MDNI I Ninja Turtles are late 20's - early 30's I 2003 verse

Leo

He came to this world for this.

Leo finds it hot when you expose them slowly, peeling whatever clothing you wear as you walk toward him.

His mouth waters, and he gulps. But he waits. To this day you don't know if he enjoys the show or is simply so bewitched he's unable to do anything but stare.

Spoiler: it's both.

Leo loves it when you sit on his lap and he gets to see you up close and take his time sucking on them, nibbling them, praising their shape, texture, color— ah, you're so beautiful.

Raphael

Loves to find you bare— lying there for him, like the delish dessert you are, ready to be eaten. Fuck, you're so hot.

His breath hitches as he reaches for you. He gropes them urgently.

Raph loves circling the areola before sucking your nipple. He bites, pulling just enough to make you gasp.

Donatello

He loves the sensuality of undressing you.

Presses his face to your breasts gently, nuzzling, taking your scent in as he sighs. Loves the intimacy of it.

Donatello trails open mouth-kisses all around them and does his best to give plenty of attention to both of them. His cock throbs, aching with every moan he rips off your lips. Damn, you're perfect.

Mikey

He glides his tongue on them before nibbling. Such pretty tits you have!

Mikey rolls one of your nipples between his fingers after he's licked it enough for it to force a whimper off you.

He takes the other in his mouth at once, and he moans to your skin at the taste of your bare flesh.

He adores how much you're enjoying it, throwing your head back shamelessly, keeping him there by gripping his bandana.

Shit, you're so fervent; can he fuck your tits? Say yes, please.

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XXXVII)

Chapter 37 : ‘I found the other half above the pillow where you lay’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! Some cute moments ahead!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3907

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Mendocino memory For Haruko

Half moon cold and low above the poplar tree and sweet pea petals pink and white/ what happened on this personal best night for casual stars and silky constellations streaming brilliant through the far forgetful darkness of the sky

I found the other half above the pillow where you lay asleep face to one side with nothing in this world or the next to hide

June Jordan

At the sight before him, Andrew wasn’t sure whether this was real or merely one of his dreams.

After all, he was just waking up now. He had opened his eyes, dragging his foggy mind out of slumber, only a moment ago. He was met with your peaceful features, still lost in sleep and its quiet. In the light of a bright morning, you were painfully beautiful, the kind that would leave a scorn across his heart, the kind he would never forget, always crave for from now on.

He stared at your sleeping form, unable to look away, studying the way your chest rose and fell with your breathing under the sheets. He admired the slight parting of your lips, the gentle movement of your eyelids, the locks of hair messily stranded across your pillow. He bathed in your scent, in the remnants of your perfume, in the light that came in to rest perfectly on your form, in the warmth of this bed where your heat lied.

He blinked a few times, but you were still there. Perhaps it wasn’t a mere dream, after all. Maybe you were there, lying by his side, in your bed. He remembered every detail about last night, from the romantic date to your kiss outside your home, under streetlights. And then your invitation, the kisses in the elevator because he couldn’t keep his hands off you, your warmth against the coldness of your door… And then your clothes falling and immediately forgotten, and your skin, an ocean of warm, beautiful skin… your hands on his body, your sweet giggle as his hair tickled you, your taste, the sounds you made, the ‘I love you’s exchanged in a breath before connecting in the most intimate way possible… and Christ, how it felt to love you, to adore you, to worship you…

He let out a shaky exhale, expecting your disappearance once more, but you didn’t budge, didn’t vanish, remained there lying next to him.

And he tried, he tried so hard to think of a moment that had felt so blissful, so right, so extraordinarily simple with Sam, but he couldn’t. There were none to be found.

God, he loved you so fucking much… he was a total goner, what a fool… what a fool he was for you…

You stirred, slowly, scrunching your nose a little and Andrew grinned at the sight, couldn’t refrain his urge to kiss the tip of your nose. You chuckled at the feeling, blindly reached for him across the mattress.

“How early is it?” you mumbled your question, sleep making your voice deeper than usual, almost hoarse, and Andrew felt his body heat up at the sound.

“Barely ten.”

You smiled, moved closer to him across the bed, your eyes still closed, until your legs and his became a tangled mess.

“God… your voice sounds so good in the morning.”

Andrew chuckled at that, blushing.

“Yeah?”

“Hmm… so deep…”

At last, you blinked your eyes open, looked straight into his eyes and Andrew was ready to bet that you had claimed his heart right there and then, his soul, his entire life…

“Hey,” you whispered, growing a little shy, holding the covers closer to you.

“Hey,” Andrew grinned, hand coming up to your cheek to brush his knuckles and then his thumb across the soft skin, the gesture tender and intimate.

“Slept well?”

He hummed, letting his fingers fall from your face to your bare arm, tracing lines and mindless patterns there. He could have spent hours like this, doing nothing but chastely touch your skin.

“For the few hours you let me sleep,” he added with a mischievous smile, and he admired your flushed expression when he shot you a wink.

“I could say the same for you. You seemed… insatiable, last night.”

It was Andrew’s time to look away, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Well, you didn’t seem willing to complain about at the time.”

You giggled, came a little closer, until he could feel your breath on his lips, until you rested your open palm on his breast, until he let his fingers get lost in your hair.

“Never said I was complaining,” you shook your head slightly, all of your movements made slower by the stillness of morning, by the love and quiet of the moment, by the intimacy of it too.

“Did you sleep well, love?” he asked, letting the pet name slip without noticing, but he saw your eyebrows slightly rise, saw you smiling.

His heart began pounding, a wave of fear rushing through his chest.

“Erm… sorry… if it’s too early for pet names, sorry…”

But you brushed his anxiety away with a tender chuckle.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s nice. Say it again.”

Andrew gave you a grin.

“Love.”

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissed the skin there and noted how goosebumps erupted across your body as he brushed his beard along your neck, as his lips moved against you.

“My love,” he whispered again, and you gently pulled on his hair to call for his attention, to make him look up at you.

When you kissed him, there was nothing left in the world but you, this bed, your skin, your warmth, your lips against his. And he wondered how someone could have so much effect on another person…

“I did sleep well,” you murmured, keeping your mouth close to his. “But… I’ve got to say I’m very happy I woke up.”

He raised a questioning eyebrow, and you went on.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” you whispered, staring right into his soul, warmth spreading across his entire frame at your words.

“Thanks,” he smiled. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

You chuckled at that.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he added, serious this time, and you shared a bright grin.

Then your hand fell from his hair to his arm, to his chest, to his stomach. His breath caught in his throat.

“I will obviously offer you breakfast,” you spoke, voice low and deep, making every cell of his body light up and shine and vibrate at the perfect frequence, the one that made his body buzzing with excitement and want. “But… right now… I can think of another tempting activity.”

He chuckled at that, genuinely amused, still impossibly turned on. Your hand kept on moving, until it disappeared under the covers, resting at the base of his stomach, across his happy trail.

“And who’s the insatiable one now, huh?” he teased you in a grin you offered back easily, chuckling and pecking his lips repeatedly.

“You clearly have a terrible influence on me.”

“Undoubtedly… you could never be the tempting one…”

“I’m a literal angel.”

He chuckled, but still, when he stared at you, his tone and words were too tender not to be serious.

“That you are. You are an angel…”

He was the one to kiss you this time, shushing the remark you seemed about to speak out.

“I’m very much in agreement with your sinful plans, by the way,” he spoke against your lips, holding your hip now.

He moved just enough to whisper easily into your ear.

“What do you want, then, Y/N? What do you want me to do?”

He noticed how your breathing staggered, how your fingers trembled against his skin, inching downwards but you caught yourself and kept your hand in place instead, clearly unwilling to rush this. And Andrew was more than okay with taking his time too…

He was surprised by the emotion in your voice though, when you spoke again. It made him look into your eyes once more.

“I love it when you do this.”

“Do what, love?”

“When… like… the fact that we can discuss sex before… having sex. I like that. It makes me feel safe. It makes… makes me feel wanted. And it’s super hot.”

He chuckled at that last remark.

“Well, you’re hot too,” he gave you a wink, relished in the way you shied away.

“You’re hot as well,” you mumbled. “And an absolute ride, just so you know.”

“Thanks,” Andrew answered in a low, deep voice, something a little shy, quiet, but there was a cocky smirk tugging at his lips too. “Glad to know that I’ve delivered last night.”

You laughed, but when you grew silent again, Andrew quickly focused back on the conversation at hand.

“It’s normal to discuss sex before an act of sex. You can always tell me anything you want or need.”

You nodded, and he knew you thought about Frank. He wasn’t mad about it. The comparison seemed in Andrew’s favour, after all. He kissed you to make the sadness of your words disappear, to clean the love Frank had sullied.

When you broke the kiss, took in a deep breath, your voice came in a murmur, a quiet sound unwilling to disturb the peace and happiness you and Andrew were bathing in that morning.

“I love you, baby.”

Baby. The word sounded perfect on your lips, round and tender and full of the love you were proclaiming. Baby. Andrew felt something shift in his heart at the pet name, in his soul even, in his very being. He would never be the same again. He was a different man now that you called him baby. He never wanted to be anyone else but the man you called baby…

“I love you too, darling.”

His lips met yours again, he wasn’t sure who initiated the kiss, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he loved you, that you loved him, that he could feel the truth of it on your fingertips against his skin.

His breathing staggered as you asked permission to touch him, as he said yes, as you moved your hand accordingly. He could barely breathe at all.

Christ, you would be the death of him…

Breakfast turned into brunch, something between a first bite and a full lunch. After all, when you migrated to the kitchen after taking a shower, it was already noon. It was Andrew’s turn to shower while you cooked. He had already made pancakes while you were showering, you added bacon, fruits, yogurts, honey and some warm beverage.

His hair was wet when he joined you, droplets dampening his plain, white undershirt. You stared at his bare arms as he entered, he noticed how your eyes remained glued to his skin, how they lingered on his collarbones and his shoulders as well, that were left mostly visible by the undershirt. And for a moment he was just self-conscious, longing for the protection of the clothes he had left in your bedroom. After all, he didn’t have prominent muscles, hitting the gym was definitely not his thing. Swimming a lot kept his body lean and muscular enough, but in comparison to Frank’s body his was ridiculously gangly, lanky; and perhaps you didn’t find him as attractive as you did Frank, he was a handsome chap, definitely the hitting-the-gym-everyday kind of guy…

But then, he saw how you averted your eyes, how you took a deep, shaky breath as you focused on the fruit you were cutting again. An apple, sliced in perfectly even pieces. You fumbled with the knife, cleared your throat, tried to hide how flushed you were. When the knife sank in the fruit again, the cut was everything but even.

A weight was lifted from Andrew’s shoulders, he smiled at you even if your back was to him now, walked closer until he could wrap his arms around you from behind.

He needed to stop worrying so much. He needed to stop yielding so easily to this self-sabotaging voice in his head. He needed to stop comparing himself to Frank. Frank was not here, Andrew was the one who had spent his night and morning drowning in pleasure with you. Andrew was the one you were allowing to stay for breakfast now, in your kitchen, the one you let hold you like this, tight and a little possessive maybe, your back to his chest and his chin resting on the top of your head.

“Bacon smells nice,” Andrew whispered, tone quiet, longing to protect the tenderness that had settled in your home.

“Thanks. Didn’t burn it, as you can see.”

He rolled his eyes, playfully pinched your side and made you giggle.

“Thanks for the pancakes,” you grinned even though he couldn’t see the gesture, but he still heard it in your voice.

“’Welcome,” he mumbled before tightening his hold on you.

You let out a content sigh in response.

“Any plans for this afternoon?” you asked, but Andrew shook his head.

“Nothing, no. Elwood’s with my brother, so… I don’t know…”

“Do you… Would you like to stay this afternoon?”

Andrew’s heart grew warmer, the smile that settled on his lips was one he couldn’t refrain, despite his best efforts and his will to hide how happy and eager he was to spend more time with you.

“Of course,” he agreed. “What would you like to do?”

“I don’t know… just… spending time with you. It doesn’t really matter what we do.”

God… how could you say things like that? You were tearing his heart to pieces every time, in the most wonderful way possible. He was already in love with you, how come you kept on making him fall harder and harder?

He hummed, softly made you sway left and right as he thought of something to do, and he heard you chuckle because of his movements. He stared at the city that laid at your feet beyond your window, stretched as far as the eye could see with its chimneys, its windowpanes glimmering with sunlight, its shimmering rooftops. It was still sunny today, although the weather forecast predicted some rain by the end of the afternoon.

“We could go for a walk. Or… we could go to the cinema! I haven’t been in a while.”

“That would be nice,” you nodded. “We can pick a movie while we eat.”

“I’ll have to go home to change though.”

“We can meet up at the cinema.”

“Or you can come with me to my place, I quickly get changed, and then we head to the cinema together.”

You nodded, a grin on your lips.

“Hmm… that works too.”

You finally sat down to eat, keeping the conversation smooth and light while you ate, picking up a movie to watch that afternoon. By the time your plates were empty and your stomachs full, Andrew’s hair was dry, you were holding hands, feet touching under the table.

And this was so nice… it felt so right to be there with you, to be intimate with you, to share your space, to live in the intimacy of your home, to eat brunch with you.

You grew nervous all of a sudden, right when the conversation slowed down and a comfortable silence was about to settle in. Andrew carefully studied your expression, tilted his head slightly.

“You’re alright, love?” he asked, and you nodded quickly, but the nervousness didn’t leave your features.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“You… you seem worried. Is there something wrong?”

His brain jumped to conclusions, as it always did in that type of moment. Listening to the ugly voice in his head.

Perhaps you didn’t want to spend your afternoon with him, anymore, perhaps it was too much too soon…

“I just… I think we should discuss… like… erm… what we are to each other.”

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow.

“Oh… erm… okay.”

“Like… Do you want us to be exclusive?”

You frowned at his expression. He narrowed his eyes at you.

Exclusive? Did you not want that with him? He had not even thought that not being exclusive was an option… you were in love.

“Of course,” he truthfully answered. “Of course, I want to be exclusive. I… I have feelings for you.”

You let out a sigh.

“Good… okay…”

“You… you don’t want that?”

“No, Andy, that’s not…”

“Cause I’m not signing up for anything less than you being my girlfriend…”

“Andy. I want to be exclusive. I just thought we should clarify the situation anyway.”

Slowly, Andrew nodded.

“Good… Grand… Cause like… I love you. I want us to be together.”

“Me too. That’s what I want too.”

“So… I can say that you’re my girlfriend?”

You smiled, something tender and a little bit mischievous that set his chest on fire.

“Yeah, you can. And I’ll call you my boyfriend.”

You exchanged a grin.

“Grand,” Andrew mumbled, blushing as he looked down at his empty plate, feeling like a teenager with the way you were settling on those labels, but he didn’t mind.

“What about work, though?” you asked. “Should we… like… tell Lydia about us?”

“There’s no rule or policy against professors dating each other. There’s no power dynamic between us, there’s no hierarchy, we have the same job. I don’t think it’s useful, and it’s definitely not mandatory.”

You nodded in agreement, but it was Andrew’s turn to grow nervous now.

“Darling, I… there’s something else we should discuss before going to work tomorrow.”

“Hmm?”

“I… I would prefer it if… us dating remained… a private matter.”

You frowned hard at that, let go of his hand, crossed your arms before your chest as your gaze hardened.

“What do you mean?” you asked back, tension rising in the room to make the air heavy and electric.

“I just mean that… No one needs to know about us…”

“What?”

“At work, we should…”

“So, you want us to be exclusive, you say you love me, but you want us to keep this a secret?”

Andrew raised his hands in a gesture of appeasement.

“That is not what I mean…”

“So you don’t want us to tell our friends? Our families? And for how long do you plan on keeping our relationship a secret?”

“That. Is. Not. What. I’m. Saying,” Andrew spoke softly, his voice low and appeasing.

“Of course, I don’t want us to hide our relationship. Of course, we can tell our friends and families… that is not what I’m saying.”

“What are you saying then?” you asked back, but your voice was audibly calmer now.

“I’m saying that… rumours and gossips are truly hurtful sometimes in our line of work. Not just in our academic career, but with students too. I’m not saying that I want us to hide our relationship to the world, I’m just saying that… for the time being, while we’re just beginning dating and it’s still all brand-new… perhaps we should try to only behave professionally at work. I just… I don’t want gossips to weigh our relationship when we’re trying to build it. Of course, we can tell our friends at work, like… I will probably tell Colm tomorrow, to be honest! But we should act like professionals when we’re in public at work for now. Students have no business knowing about our private lives, and neither do the people we don’t like at work.”

He reached for your hand again, and you let him take it.

“I’m not saying that I’m ashamed of us, that I want to hide our relationship… trust me, I can barely believe I’m lucky enough to date you. But work is work. And university is not all bright flowers and rainbows. I don’t want us to be pressured by students or some of our shitty colleagues while we’re just beginning to be together.”

“Would that be so bad if they knew?”

“No, I don’t think it would be bad. But there would be rumours, and glances, and stares, and stories going round, and… I don’t want to have to deal with that now. Now, I just want to go on dates with you, I want to be in love with you, I want us to settle as a couple, I want to babble away to my friends and family about how amazing my girlfriend is, I want to build a strong, solid relationship with you. And I’m worried that letting work mix with that could make things more difficult for us, at the beginning. I don’t want to mess this up. I care and love you too much for that. I… I’m really scared of fucking this up.”

You frowned at that.

“Why? Why are you scared?”

Andrew shrugged, averted his eyes to stare at your table instead, although he couldn’t see the grain of the wood, the rasp of its surface; he was trying too hard to gather his thoughts for that.

“I… I’m scared that this is not going to work out,” he admitted. “I’m scared to be hurt again. I’m scared that you… that you could leave me. I’m scared that you could realise that you can have better than me. I’m scared to do something wrong, something that will make you see I’m not good enough for you. I’m… I’m really scared you’re going to leave. I don’t… I don’t want to give you extra-reasons to give up on us, like… exterior motives. Bearing with me is trouble enough,” he joked, but you knew he was still serious, “do you realise how high-maintenance dating a lanky guy like me really is? You’ve got to feed me up leaves and stuff…’

You laughed at that.

“You clumsy giraffe…”

“Yeah…”

“I love you, Andy. I don’t want to leave, I want to be with you. And I don’t think that I deserve better. I think you’re too good for me.”

“Nonsense,” he rolled his eyes and stared at you again, but you shrugged.

“I hear what you’re saying. Maybe adding extra-pressure at work at the beginning isn’t a good idea. Besides, we’ve both worked so hard for this, I don’t want rumours to tarnish our careers.”

“Me neither. Especially for you.”

You nodded, he knew that it was a hard thing to hear, it was hard for him to say it too. But the reality was that you were a woman working an academic job at a high rank, that you would probably aim for higher still in the coming years. You couldn’t afford to have rumours saying that you were having a fling with a colleague, especially a man. It would soon be turned into you sleeping around for promotions, it would make your work worthless, it would tarnish everything you had accomplished and would accomplish from now on. If the two of you were a serious couple, things would be different. But for now, you were still searching for your footing, and perhaps this would fail, despite your genuine love for each other. Andrew didn’t want either of your careers to be impacted by it. As you said, you had both worked too hard for it.

“We can stop being careful after a while,” he went on.

“So… no PDA at work?”

“Yeah, no PDA.”

“Okay. Deal. But… when we’re alone in our office?”

Andrew shot you a seductive smile.

“Do you really think me capable of sitting all day in the same room as you without kissing you?”

You laughed at that, and so did he, even though he was only half-joking.

“You did so for months!”

“I hadn’t seen you naked then! You weren’t my girlfriend!”

You laughed, got the conversation drifting off and becoming more playful again.

God… Andrew hoped you would not leave. He couldn’t survive it, this time around…

[limnsaber]

Stammi Vicino and the events of Yuri!!! On Ice are still mind boggling to me. Where’s that post about scarcely-fathomable level of romance.

Stammi Vicino is the first skating sequence in YOI. It is the first full skating routine we are presented with and it’s the choreography we see in the very first moments of the show. Lyrically, Stammi Vicino is about a man calling out for someone to hear him, speaking of intense loneliness and decrying love. The lyrics were written by the creator of YOI, Kubo Mitsurou, and translated into Italian for the composition.

In the first episode of the show, both Yuuri and Victor skate this routine individually. Victor skates it for Worlds, and Yuuri skates it because he wants to get his love for skating back.

Unbeknownst to him, Yuuri’s performance was recorded and uploaded to YouTube, and Victor comes into his life from there (directly because of Yuuri’s SV performance).

Victor sees Yuuri’s performance and comes to meet Yuuri, and that’s the inciting incident of the show. Both of their routines were a calling out into the darkness, and they were answered. (That’s love!) Through the show, we learn that both Victor and Yuuri were in bad places at the time of the routine of the first episode, and we see them grow wonderfully together in their relationship and as people through the series.

Stammi Vicino is also known as Hanarezu Ni Soba Ni Ite in Japanese, or Stay Close to Me. This line is said by both characters throughout the show, perhaps most significantly by Yuuri in their argument in the parking garage in EP 7 (a major turning point for their relationship).

The first time Yuuri sees Victor in the flashback, we get notes of Stammi Vicino underneath the dialogue.

This song is perhaps the musical foundation for the entire show! Every aspect of Victor and Yuuri’s relationship is writ in, from calling out into the darkness to finally coming together— represented in the closing routine of the show, Stammi Vicino: Duetto.

Yuuri skates Stammi Vicino once more as the show’s final episode closes, and this time Victor joins him for a pair skate. The final episode is one where they’ve finally fully come together — they agree on their future and on their future together. It’s a beautiful bookend to the story, and represents, as the skating routines always do, their characters and their relationship.

In Duetto, the verses about condemning love are gone and the piece has two singers instead of one. Verses in both the aria and duetto say “your hands, your legs / my hands, my legs / our heartbeats / are blending together,” referencing — and they were crazy for this honestly — Plato’s theory of soulmates. At the end of the piece, the singers “leave together”.

The creator, Kubo Mitsurou, has stated in the past very explicitly and publicly that Victor and Yuuri are soulmates. Canonically! The first time Yuuri sees Victor in the flashback, we get notes of Stammi Vicino underneath the dialogue. Stammi Vicino is the musical thread of Victor and Yuuri’s relationship.

They’re engaged!! To be married!!! They’re canonically soulmates!!!

The music in YOI is deeply intertwined with the storytelling. Each routine is uniquely representative of a character, who they are as person, and their journey. The relationship between Victor and Yuuri is the core of this show, and Stammi Vicino is perhaps the most important piece representative of their relationship.

Stammi Vicino, the aria and duetto, represent a story about loneliness and calling out for love and that call being answered. That’s the thesis of Yuri on Ice.

“There’s a place you just can’t reach unless you have a dream too big to bear alone. We call everything on the ice ‘love.’”