#when i was a child i wanted to be him lol

[littleones-thoughts]

🖍️ My partner! I think I mentioned it in passing but it wasn't a serious enough conversation so I dunno if he remembers ;-;

❤️ I haven't thought about it but maybe Hayden from Fields of Mistria would be a really nice caregiver.

🩹 My head gets like...light. I get giggly and tend to talk "small". Sometimes words are hard but not always.

🧡 It isn't often, but it's pretty consistent to whenever I see my partner IRL and he uses a specific tone of voice or calls me nicknames like little one.

🍬 I didn't know it was a thing! Ooo I'd love recs!

💛 I don't really have a specific age (that I can tell??) maybe around kindergarten or first grade? I'm unsure.

🧸 I'm an only child and I regress.

💚 I heard over and over that I was an 'old soul'.

🧩 I would love a sippy cup! I'm unsure of if that's weird. But I sipped a drink a little out of s straw and have been obsessed with getting a sippy cup ever since.

💙 Not sure. I haven't had a chance to explore a lot. Maybe babycore? I'd have to do research!

🍭 I joined Tuesday! So like two days 🫣

💜 I'm not able to regress enough to have one but I think it would be Minecraft or just my "big" obsessions like MHA.

🍼 I think I'd like to make new memories. I haven't had the chance to purposefully do it yet but I think I would just want to make new memories.

🖤 Unsure? Had some friends a while back but I am unsure if I can count them because I don't know the label they used.

🪀 I tend to around my partner. Especially when I'm sleepy.

🪁 I think more traditional? Because the last time it happened I was watching Minecraft let's plays like I did when I was little and got immediately floaty lol

🎨 Paci! I like to chew on things and suck on things so I think I could benefit from one.

🍬 I am unsure of what that is.

🦋 Sometimes I am, but sometimes I think too hard about it and feel shame. And worry if I can be a successful adult with a career if I want to explore this part of me. Silly, I'm sure.

🧚🏼‍♀️ A way to relax. Life sucks, and I grew up too fast. I've recognized it's possible that may be the reason why I regress. I was always so mature. Even at the ripe age of six I was judging and annoyed at my classmates for just being kids. I feel like I didn't get to be one- at least not fully.

🧦 I'm too new to have any opinions! So far everyone seems really nice though!

🦇 You can do that!?

🌸 I don't have any particular headcanons.

🐈‍⬛ I'm probably the majority actually. (Unsure though)

🧃 Puppy!!

🐇 I only have one person I want and trust to- but I'm too nervous to ask them. I'm worried they'll find it weird.

🎀 I don't think I regress to a specific age. Or if I do I don't know what that age is.

🎮 I don't know. I daydream near 24/7 so it would probably be easy!

🌈 Werewolf! But the kind that just turns to human or wolf at will!

👾 When my partner calls me something like little one or coos at me because I did something cute according to him.

💭 Sitting on the floor and coloring while he sits on the couch. Having a sippy cup on standby of course.

🌙 Agere Ask Game!!! ⭐

🖍 Who is the first person you told/would tell about your headspace?

❤ If you had a fictional caregiver/little who would it be?

🩹 What do you experience when you regress? (i.e fuzzy feelings, motor skill or speech struggle, etc.)

🧡 How often do you regress or try to regress?

🍬 Do you read agere fanfiction and if so, about who?

💛 What school grade (if any) would you be in according to your headspace?

🧸 Are you an older sibling who regresses/caregives or a younger sibling who regresses/caregives?

💚 Were you considered an "old soul" growing up or were you more "childish"?

🧩 What was your first piece of agere gear or what would you want as your first?

💙 What's your regression/caregiving aesthetic? (kidcore, babycore, altcore, etc)

🍭 How long have you been apart of agere tumblr?

💜 What are you obsessed with right now in your headspace? (sanrio, sharks, bluey, etc)

🍼 Do you include your personal nostalgia in your regression/caregiving or are you creating new memories?

🖤 Have you met any other regressors/caregivers in real life?

🪀 Have you ever regressed in front of someone or has someone ever regressed around you?

🪁 Is your headspace affected more through traditional or alternative regression? (bottles & cartoons or horror & thrill)

🎨 What's a piece of agere gear that you really want to have/try?

🍬 Have you ever experienced vent regression?

🦋 Are you comfortable with your regression/headspace?

🧚‍♀️ What is age regression/caregiving to you?

🧦 What's something you like & don't like about the agere community?

🦇 Have you ever regressed in a dream?

🌸 Who do you headcanon as a regressor or caregiver? (fictional or real)

🐈‍⬛ Do you think you're represented enough in the agere community? (poc, boys, under 20/over 30 yrs)

🧃Which animal best represents your headspace?

🐇 Has it been or was it hard for you to find a little/caregiver?

🎀 Does your headspace match the gear you use/want? (i.e. regresses to 10 years but loves pacifiers)

🎮 Do you struggle to play pretend or are you super imaginative?

🌈 What mythical creature would you rather be? (Hybrid, Fairy, Dragon, etc)

👾 What's the quickest way to get you in your headspace?

💭 What's one thing you often daydream about doing with your little/caregiver?

[yourbasicqueerie]

can we hear ur lilia headcanons... as many as possible i am starving

be careful another what you ask lol, these r some of my fave ones:

( i am and will be ignoring her death. try me hoes)

• that woman can cook, she’ll make you a MEAAANNNN pesto alla trapanese and don’t get me started on traditional sicilian dishes. can’t bake for shit tho.

• she sews most of her clothing herself.

• that woman has had some questionable gigs to rank up some cash, some of those being:

- a history teacher who made some questionable comments about vampires and their uselessness in actual fighting ( “you know kids, vampires are absolutely shit heads, you think they are going to be these big scary people but noooo, terrible at hand in hand combat too” . )

-a hand reader at various kid parties. the amount of times she’s had to tell moms that no, she will not know the gender of their child is astounding ( . )

-a jazz singer at some dingy bar ( she got approached by a big time producer once, but refused to do anything with him after he made some off handed comment about her hair)

• talking about hair, she’s very very proud of her curls, she might not be keen on chemical peels as much ( smth jen later got her on) but if you want to talk hair care? she’s your girl

• after she got kicked out of her place, she moved into agatha’s house and took over the couch. though she will never say it, the couch is the most comfortable thing she has ever slept on ( maybe even the MAAASSIVE bed she must have had in her young days)

• talking about her young days, even though she was not from a royal family, YOU CANNOT TELL ME she wasn’t somehow related to the médici family, i mean LOOK AT HER!!!

• she owns a small artemisia gentilieschi portrait of herself she commissioned while at florence.

• her favorite colour, contrary to popular opinion, is not yellow, but orange

• she sings in the shower, beautifully and loudly so. ( can’t exaggerate the loud part, you can hear her from the whole house, the coven does not complain tho, they acc quite like the everything shower days, it means they get at least 40 minutes of lilia’s singing)

• when drunk, lilia is so chatty and touchy, agatha is not keen on it, but rio loves it, their karaoke duos are astonishing too.

• she laughs the loudest between all of them

• agatha full on laid all her mommy issues in this woman ( now, if that is to say that if she and agatha were to have sex, agatha would call her mommy, or if agatha sees lilia as a motherly figure is up to you)

• the whole of the coven depends on her, if lilia is gone then they all fall apart

• she is a sucker for an aldi, would spend hours grocery shopping if she could.

• wine enthusiast lilia calderu

• polyglot lilia calderu

[milktiicup]

Helloooo! I love your writing so much! I read it all day every time you post, especially your homicipher ones 🥹🫶 I hope you're doing great today btw!

If it isn't too much to ask, can you write the homicipher cast's reactions about the baby of Mr. Crawling and Mc? 👀

I imagine some would be very funny 😭

Have a lovely dayyy! Mwamwa!

little hands, dark hearts!

homicipher cast meeting you and mr crawling's baby! > scarletella, silvair, chopped, hood, machete mr crawling baby saga! chapter 1 chapter 2

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🌊 ⋅ ˚✮ i think you can tell i have favs by the amount of length and detail some of these have dkjfhkdhdgj

warnings. lol just pure angst in mr. scarletella's

MR. SCARLETELLA

He stares. And he stares. And he stares.

The silence is suffocating, weighing heavier than the shadows beneath his feet. Dull, grey eyes bore into yours, searching for answers that you couldn’t give. 

Of course, he brought you here to be with him. You gave him all these lovely offerings, shedding beautiful blood in his name, stared directly into his eyes as he enveloped you, taking you to his domain- but you wouldn’t give him your name. You stand there, swinging your crowbar, defiance burning in your eyes. It’s not fear he sees, not submission, but anger- a raw, searing thing that slices through the quiet like a blade. And it confuses him. No, it infuriates him.

His grip on his umbrella tightens, the knuckles whitening. His lips twist into a scowl, but behind it, something softer flickers- an ache he doesn’t know how to name. He’s used to taking. Claiming. But you… you’re not like the others. You’re still standing. Still staring. Still resisting.

And it only makes him want you more.

But then there’s him.

That thing. That crawling, pathetic thing that dares to share the space you once offered to him.

What does that creature have that he doesn’t? What pull does it hold over you, to make you look at it like that? Mr. Scarletella hates him. Oh, how he hates him. He hates your baby. Hates the way its small hands grasp at you, the way you cradle it against your chest as if it’s the most precious thing in your world. He hates the way your smile softens when you whisper to it, the way you laugh when it coos.

You look so happy. How could he take that away from you? And yet- how could you do this to him? You like him. He likes you. Why did you pick him?

The resentment pools in his chest like ink, sticky and dark. He wants to scream, to tear down this fragile illusion of happiness you’ve built, to drag you back into his arms where you belong. And yet, his hands tremble. His scowl falters.

You look so happy.

And the thought guts him. How could he take that away from you?

His lips twitch, caught between a sneer and a sigh, as he looks away. For the first time, he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to take what he wants.

Mr. Scarletella’s chest rises and falls, his breath unsteady. His umbrella clatters to the ground, forgotten as his hands flex and curl into fists at his sides. He steps closer, the air around him rippling with suppressed fury.

“Why?” The question tears from his throat, jagged and raw, barely above a whisper. His crimson eyes gleam with something between desperation and rage. “Why?”

He’s staring at you again, but this time, there’s no pretense of control. Just pain, naked and wild, burning in the shadows of his gaze.

You don’t answer. How could you?

So, he waits. And he stares. And he waits.

MR. SILVAIR

Mr. Silvair holds your baby, careful and learning. His bandage gaze peers into the little eyes, baby babbling and cooing and reaching for his hair. He smiles, soft and curious. 

His infatuation with your child is endless. How was it possible for you two to procreate? To create something from something undead, a ghost, a monster- and a perfectly normal human. Questions that he will never have answers for- questions he doesn’t dare act upon. The baby is fragile, soft, and defenseless. He couldn’t take it apart and put it back together- he can’t break something that could never be fixed.

And the question eggs him at the back of his mind- what if it could?

His hands steady yet soft, as though he’s cradling the most fragile thing in existence. The baby babbles, tiny fists reaching for the loose strands of his silver hair, and when their fingers catch hold of it, she giggles with pure delight.

“Them like,” he observes, his voice unusually tender.

You stifle a laugh. “Of course she does. It’s shiny. Babies love shiny things.”

His head tilts slightly, silver hair brushing against the baby’s chubby cheeks as they continue their determined mission to grab at more strands. “Shiny good?” he asks, his curiosity genuine, as if this is just another puzzle he’s determined to solve.

“Very good,” you assure him, stepping closer to watch the two of them. “She’s clearly a fan.”

The baby lets out a happy squeal, wriggling in his grasp. Silvair’s gaze flickers down to her, and though his eyes are hidden, there’s something warm in his expression. “Strong grip,” he notes, “Healthy.”

You smile softly, leaning against the counter. “She’s got her father’s energy, that’s for sure.”

Mr. Silvair doesn’t respond immediately, instead focusing on the baby as they try- and fail- to stuff one of his fingers into their tiny mouth. He gently redirects their hands, careful and patient. “Small,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “Important.”

His words catch you off guard, and you glance at him. “Important?”

He looks up, tilting his head. “From you. Important. Interested in them.”

The simplicity of his statement warms something in your chest, even if he was purely fascinated with your child out of sheer scientific interest. You’re not sure if he fully understands the weight of his words, but at this moment, it doesn’t matter. You’ll take the softness of the moment. 

The baby lets out another squeal, this one more demanding, and Mr. Silvair bounces them slightly in his arms, an action so natural it makes you blink in surprise. The baby quiets immediately, snuggling into his chest with a content sigh.

“Good,” he says, more to the baby than to you. 

You can’t help but laugh, the sound light and genuine. “She likes you,” you comment with a shuffled laugh. Of all the monsters here, your child just has to like the one who tears you apart. 

Mr. Silvair tilts his head again, his smile returning faintly as he glances down at the now-sleepy baby. “Me like them.”

“Cute?”

“Cute.”

MR. CHOPPED

“Want carry them,” Mr. Chopped pouts, cheeks puffed. “Them cute.”

“She’s so cute, isn’t she?” you chuckle.

The baby giggles, a toothless, gummy smile as bright as the sun. He frowned, his eyes narrowing in a mix of frustration and wistful longing. “Me carry. Want carry,” he repeated, his tone almost petulant.

“You’d need arms for that,” you tease, bouncing the baby lightly on your hip. The baby squeals, her laugh infectious, and you couldn’t help but grin down at her. “She’s so happy to see you, though. Look, she’s waving!” You guide her tiny hand in a slow wave toward Mr. Chopped.

His face lit up with exaggerated enthusiasm, his head tilting as he “leans” closer, as if proximity would help convey his affection. “Cute,” he said with deep conviction. “Many cute. Little human.”

The baby gurgles in response, her toothless smile lighting up her face. She reaches out as though she wants to grab him, her tiny fingers opening and closing in that delightful way babies do.

“See?” you laugh. “She wants to hold you!”

Mr. Chopped’s pout deepens dramatically. “Unfair. No arms. No hold. No carry. Me sad.”

You shook your head, amused. “You’re fine, Mr. Chopped. She can’t even hold her own head up for long; I’m sure she’s not judging you for not having arms.”

“Baby not judge,” he said solemnly, his voice tender. “Baby happy.”

“She likes you,” you reassure him with a smile. “You’ve got that big, friendly face, and you’re always talking to her like she’s the most fascinating thing in the world.”

“Them are,” he said matter-of-factly, his tone so earnest it made you laugh again.

“Well, maybe one day we’ll rig up some kind of… carrier for you,” you offered jokingly. “So you can hold her. Or at least let her sit in your lap- if you had one.”

Mr. Chopped perked up at that, his cheeks puffing out again with excitement this time. “Yes! Make lap. Make arms. Then carry. Hug!”

“She’d probably love that,” you said, kissing the baby’s soft head. She giggled again, her tiny hands reaching out toward Mr. Chopped, her eyes bright and full of wonder.

MR. HOOD

“Not understand,” Mr. Hood repeats.

You sigh. “You have to support the back of her head,” you say, guiding his ghostly arm to the baby’s nape. “Gentle. She’s fragile.”

“Weak,” he observes. “Much small.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “so we have to protect her.”

Mr. Hood’s form shifts as he processes your instructions, the faintest hint of curiosity flickering through his voice. “Protect... small weak thing.” His hand hovers near the baby’s head. It trembles slightly, not from lack of strength but from hesitation- like a predator trying to handle something delicate for the first time.

You place your hands over his, guiding him with care. “That’s right. Support her head. Babies can’t hold their heads up yet.”

He tilts slightly, as though trying to look closer, though his featureless head offers no expression to read. The baby gurgles softly, her tiny fingers curling around one of his. The textureless appendage seems to surprise her, and she coos in delight, kicking her chubby legs.

“Why small thing hold?” Mr. Hood asks, his voice edged with wonder.

“She’s curious,” you explain, smiling at the sight. “She doesn’t know what you are, but she wants to hold on to you.”

“Not wise.” His tone is flat, but there’s no malice in it. He shifts slightly, his massive frame dwarfing her. “Me danger. Not afraid?”

“She doesn’t know fear yet,” you say softly. “She only knows what feels safe.”

His hand rests under the baby’s head and back now, cradling her with surprising gentleness. The contrast is almost surreal- his immense strength and amorphous form against the fragility of a newborn. The baby giggles again, wiggling in his hold.

“Small thing… trust,” he murmurs, his tone almost contemplative.

“She does,” you say, watching them with a warmth blooming in your chest. “And that’s why we protect her.”

“Protect,” he repeats, as if testing the word. His grip shifts slightly, more confident. “Protect small thing. Understand.”

It’s strange, seeing someone- or something- like Mr. Hood in this role, but in the quiet moment, his usual air of detachment seems to melt away. The baby yawns, her tiny body sinking deeper into his hold, completely at ease.

MR. GAP

“Give little thing,” Mr. Gap says from the vent, his voice more curious than menacing. You freeze, hand still cradling your baby close to your chest as his long, dark arm stretches out, holding something soft and fluffy- a teddy bear.

Your baby, who has been cooing and kicking her legs happily in your arms, notices the movement. Her bright eyes widen, and she reaches out toward the stuffed bear with an eager little giggle.

“Give them?” It’s such an innocent request. He’s just offering the bear, his dark figure so out of place in the light of the room, but there’s something almost endearing about it.

You laugh softly, a smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, she’d love that,” you say. “She’s been really into cuddly things lately.”

The baby coos again, her tiny hands reaching for the bear, almost as if she recognizes the gesture as a gift. She touches it gently, then pulls it closer to her chest in a little snuggle, her face lighting up with joy.

“See? She likes it!” you say, glancing at Mr. Gap, your voice teasing. “Thanks to you.”

Mr. Gap pulls back slightly, his hand retreating into the vent, but you catch a glimpse of a subtle shift in his posture- a pleased air about him, as if he’s satisfied with the outcome.

“Them happy?” he asks.

You smile warmly, watching the baby continue to clutch the teddy bear like it’s her new best friend. “Yeah, she’s happy. And that makes me happy.”

A soft, quiet chuckle seems to come from the vent, and you can almost imagine a small, pleased grin behind the shadows. “Good,” Mr. Gap says, his voice full of pride. “Me good.”

The bear is now in the baby’s tiny hands, and her sleepy eyes begin to flutter shut, the soft comfort of the stuffed toy pulling her into a drowsy stupor. You gently rock her back and forth, watching as she drifts off to sleep, clutching the bear to her chest like it’s the most important thing in the world.

“Thank you, Mr. Gap,” you say softly, though he’s long disappeared back into his shadowy realm. You’re not sure if he heard, but you still find yourself whispering it anyway.

And for a brief, fleeting moment, everything feels a little bit lighter.

MR. MACHETE

“What… that?” he asks, a finger lazily pointing at your baby nestled in your arms.

“It’s my baby!” you reply, pridefully, and cradle her for exaggeration. Within a second, your face falls firm, and you sternly say, “No fighting little thing.”

“Not fight?” Mr. Machete’s jagged smile turns into a comical looking frown. He scowls, and turns away. “Not interested.”

“Mr. Macheteee,” you whine, “Just look at her! Isn’t she just so cute?”

Mr. Machete pauses mid-step, his broad shoulders tensing at your words. He lets out a huff, loud and exaggerated, before reluctantly glancing over his shoulder. “Cute?” he echoes, the word sounding foreign on his tongue. His tone is skeptical, almost offended. His machete falls to his side, an ear-scratching ‘clang!’ that disturbs you more than your baby.

The baby coos, her tiny hands waving aimlessly in the air. Her bright, gummy smile beams up at him, and for a moment, Mr. Machete looks genuinely stumped. 

“Them small. Shape wrong,” he notes, leaning in closer. His massive frame looms over her, but he makes no move to get too close. “Weak. No teeth. Cannot hold attack tool.”

He stares at the baby a moment longer, his scowl softening ever so slightly as the baby giggles, a bright, happy sound that cuts through his rough demeanor like a blade. She reaches toward him, her tiny fingers grabbing at the air, and for reasons you don’t quite understand, he doesn’t immediately pull away.

The baby’s determination seems to intrigue him. He tilts his head and extends a single finger- not a threatening move, but cautious, almost testing. Her tiny hand catches his finger, and she grips it tightly, her toothless grin growing impossibly wider.

“Them strong,” he finally admits, his voice low but tinged with what could almost be considered respect. “When little thing big, fight.”

You roll your eyes. Well, at least he gave your baby some attention.

[zepskies]

Lost in Translation

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Female POC!Reader

Summary: Living with this man isn’t easy, and you’ve absolutely had it with him. Supe or not, you’re one step shy of kicking him out. Will he try to make it up to you? 

AN: So after getting requests for a Soldier Boy x POC!Reader, I’ve had a short series in development called Unravel Me. I’m a bit stalled on the outline right now, so I thought this could be a fun way to introduce their relationship and see if you guys think I should continue with the prequel, kind of like how I did with Checkerboard and the Break Me Down-verse.

This story would take place after Unravel Me, after a fair bit of character development lol. It also fulfills a bingo square for @jacklesversebingo!

Prompt: “Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!”

Song Inspo: “Damage” by H.E.R.

Word Count: 3.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, bit of dirty talk, fingering, edging, some angst, fluff and feels. The reader is a mixed race POC (Afro Latina), with textured hair. 

The apartment was quiet, but not peaceful.

You were in the kitchen washing the Mt. Everest of dishes piled in the sink, partly because someone hadn’t rinsed off his own plate of carne guisada.

Ben had asked for beef for dinner yesterday, and you’d graciously delivered with your grandmother’s recipe for the stew. It was filled with chunks of tender, fall-off-your-fork beef, garlic, onions, carrots, and more—all marinated to perfection, if you said so yourself. You even added in some little yellow potatoes, both for taste and texture.

Apparently, he couldn’t be bothered to put those meaty man muscles to good use, aside from shoveling three helpings into his mouth.

A bottomless pit and a freakin’ man-child, I swear to God, you inwardly groused as you scrubbed the ceramic a bit too hard with the rough side of the sponge. No matter how many times you asked, nicely, it seemed your boyfriend couldn’t manage to pull his weight around here.

Okay, you knew his job could be demanding, but so was yours.

What the hell is this, Maid in Manhattan? Newsflash: I’ve got shit to do too! 

“And I cooked!” you muttered in indignation. That reminder propelled you to scrub a bit harder. The least he could do was clean the kitchen. Or take out the trash. Or toss the laundry into the washing machine once in a while. Like you really wanted to handle his dirty boxers all the damn time.

Did he have no shame? Couldn’t he do anything for you without you having to ask him three million times?

Es que él es bruto, mija, as your Dominican grandma would say about your grandpa, often while swiping a tired hand over her long braids. Es como un animal con ropa.

Just then, you heard his heavy steps creaking on the wood floors in your bedroom. Today was his day off, so he was probably taking his sweet time rolling his ass out of bed.

Meanwhile, you were hustling to get the place at least decently clean before you got yourself together for work. The thought made you simmer as you continued to place dishes on the counter rack. Each one clacking to rest was satisfying, but it also ticked up your internal dial to a fine boil. 

You heard him bang the bathroom door open and cringed internally, your teeth grinding. You’d reminded him three times already about the neighbors and the noise.

Sabes que, supe or not, I’m about to— 

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Ben’s voice washed over you, deep and still a little rough with sleep as he stepped into the kitchen. His old man loafers slid against the floor with every step when he approached you from behind, and his heavy hands found a familiar resting place on the curve of your waist.

He swiped your slightly wild curls to the side and pressed a tantalizing kiss into your neck. His voice, his touch, the brief scrape of his beard; it all caused a small shiver of delight up your spine.

“Hmm, you smell good. Good enough to eat.” And he teased you with the graze of his teeth, biting gently enough where your neck met your shoulder. You flinched with half a huff, trying not to smile. 

Just like that, it took the edge off your irritation…a little. You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could…

“Hey,” he said, “since you’re already up and about in here, how about some breakf—”

Your spine tightened once again.

“Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!” you snapped. You moved out of his arms to grab a hand towel to dry your hands with. They were all pruny from washing dishes.

“I’m already running late. Why? Because this place is a fucking mess, and the only one who seems to care is me!” you exclaimed. First, you gestured to the dishes now drying on the rack. “Hmm?”

You then opened up the lid to the full-to-bursting trashcan. “What do you call that, huh? You said you’d take this out last night. After I asked you twice. What, was I not speaking English? Did something get lost in translation, or are you already losing your hearing? Just let me know, ‘cause I can sure as hell crank up the volume for you!”

Ben raised a brow. You read his thoughts in his surly frown. You have some fucking audacity, talking to him like that, but it’s still early. He hasn’t even had his coffee, for Christ’s sake.

If he was more awake, no doubt he’d be barking back at you. Instead, he heaved a sigh, drew closer to you and shut the trashcan lid. At least there was one lid he knew how to close.

“All right, it’s just a little mess. No need to get fucking hysterical,” he said, trying to grasp your arm to placate you. You shrugged out of his hold and crossed your arms in anger.

“Ben, it’s not just a little mess. And what is this, 1945? I’m not hysterical!”

His lips twitched at a smirk, making you even angrier. But he’d caught enough smoke from you in the past to know he didn’t want it at 8:00 in the morning. He grasped your arms and rubbed them up and down, trying to sooth you.

“Okay, okay. It’s a little early for all this Latina temper, don’tcha think?” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your gaze snapped up at him with a glare.

Oooh, this man. He knew how to get you mad fucking tight.

Not in a good way.

Instead of exploding like Mount Fuji, you kept it all under your skin. You turned away from him and aimed to continue getting ready for work, but first, you took out a Greek yogurt from the fridge and wholly ignored him taking up space in the kitchen. You wouldn’t answer him when he called your name. In fact, you were going to give him the most frigid of cold shoulders—so cold he’d get hyperthermia through that invulnerable skin.

He waylaid your plans when he grabbed your hand, swinging you back into his arms. You gasped at the suddenness of it, looking up into his cocky, charming smile. You couldn’t stare too long at his green eyes, or the rest of his handsome, bearded face. Not when he knew exactly how to use it against you.

“Don’t think that’s gonna get you out of this,” you warned him. You set your yogurt on the kitchen counter and pushed at his chest, but it was no more effective than pushing at a mountain and expecting it to move.

His hands spanned your waist, his fingers beginning to press into your soft sides. He bowed his head, brushing his lips against your neck and the shell of your ear when he said, “Out of what, baby doll? Looks to me like we can still have a good morning.”

His voice once against trilled heat and tingles through your body, but you managed to lean back, holding the pads of your fingers to his lips.

“Hey, I’m not playing around here. If we’re gonna do this,” you pointed between him and yourself, “then let me make one thing really clear. I’m not la sirvienta around here, okay? I’m not your fucking maid. I’m your girl. Your partner. And since you live here now, I’m gonna need you to do your part.”

Ben almost rolled his eyes, but you grasped his chin. He frowned at you with furrowed brows. There was a time where he would've been inclined to grab your wrist and try to intimidate you with his temper. You saw it lying in wait behind his pursed lips and irritated stare, but you weren't afraid of him. Not anymore.

“Listen to me. I get that you haven’t lived like us commoners for most of your life, but this stuff is important,” you said. You took a deep breath, and you counted to three. You met him with a calmer gaze. “Ben, I love you.”

You let go of his chin and lowered your hand, letting it splay over his chest. He softened, ever so slightly, even though his frown remained.

“I love you,” you repeated, “but I don’t need a man-child.”

"Excuse me?" he did snap this time, his hold loosening from around your waist. "The fuck did you just say?"

You narrowed your eyes right back at him.

"You heard me," you said. "I want a man. A man who's going to be my rock when I need him. Can you do that for me, like I do for you? Are you gonna be my man, or do I need to claim you as a dependent on my taxes?"

His expression sharpened again at your thinly veiled accusation…but the longer he looked into your eyes, no longer angry, but earnest and imploring, the more he actually listened to what you were saying. His jaw worked for a moment in annoyance. You subtly softened him with your hands soothing up and down his arms, a slow back and forth over solid, warm muscle.

Eventually, he was able to curb his instinct to bark a callous reply. He nodded, expelling a breath through his nose.

“Fine,” he said.

Your brows rose. “Fine?”

“Yeah,” he said flatly.

You knew it was the closest you were going to get to an agreement, as well as an apology. You were still working on that last one, but dating this man was a work in progress, for both of you. With a sigh, you patted his arms that were slowly wrapping back around you.

“Okay, I’m really running late now,” you said.

“You should probably get a move on then,” Ben said.

Still, he didn’t release you. He stared down at you with an amused smile while you struggled against his hold. You uttered a laugh.

“Babe, I need to get to work.” You leaned over and spied the oven clock. “Oh, shit! it’s almost 8:30! If I’m not there by 9:00—”

“You sure you want to go now? Tense, body all tight,” he said, his voice deep with sensuous suggestion.

His lips neared yours, but he didn’t kiss you. Not yet. His lips veered away to brush against your cheek. He inhaled deeply as he moved, taking in the floral scent of your soap, mixed with the army of products you styled your hair with, and the faint imprint of your perfume from the night before. He skimmed down your neck and along the shell of your ear.

“Wouldn’t you rather I fuck all that tension right out of you?” he offered. “Leave you nice and warm and satisfied, have that pretty pussy coming hard on my cock.”

You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes as his filthy mouth and the timbre of his voice struck a chord through your body, tinging warm arousal between your legs. Your fingers tightened on his strong arms, digging into the fabric of his loose robe. Ben took that as a wordless confirmation. He bent at the knees and grabbed you up by your plush thighs. You wrapped your arms around his neck on instinct, with a small gasp.

But you recovered quickly. Taking his face into your hands, you met his lips roughly with yours in a devouring kiss. He set you down on the kitchen counter hard enough to make the clean dishes rattle. His hands were just as claiming as his mouth, squeezing your hips and thighs as he spread them open to make more room for himself.

While your tongue dueled with his, you shoved the robe off his shoulders, followed by his sleep shirt pooling to the floor. His hand slid under your top as well, and almost ripped it at the hem in his haste to get it up and over your head.

“Ow, ah-ow!” You giggled when the collar got caught on your hair. Ben’s breathy chuckle reached your ears. He was gentler in how he helped get the shirt off the rest of the way. Your mane of hair fell into your face, and you huffed.

Ben did you the favor of brushing the thick curls away from your eyes, tugging several strands behind your ears, even though most of them didn’t obey him. He framed your face with his big hands, and his thumbs swept along your skin, the rich complexion shining in the morning light filtering through the kitchen window.

There was more care in his touch now, his strength tempered just for you. Fond amusement colored his features. For as much shit as you gave him, you still gave him more of yourself; more of your trust, your patience...and all the rest of it. You gave him more than anyone that had come before you, and deep inside, he doubted anyone that might come after you.

You smiled up at him, a little wryly. You leaned up and met him for a gentler kiss. Your eyes fell closed at the feeling of him, and the spicy hint of his aftershave. It was a scent that often clung to his pillows. When he was gone on a mission for days on end, you wouldn’t admit to clinging to one of them to help you sleep, and make you feel safe. 

“Mmm, you smell good,” you whispered. And it was true. He smelled like mint and spicy aftershave. You plied his lips with deeper kisses, licking into his mouth with a sensuous tongue, before you stole his words. “Good enough to eat.”

He uttered a groan deep in his throat. It satisfied you, enhancing the warm flood between your legs.  

Fuck it. You were calling in sick today.

You drew him back into the pull of you, winding your arms around his neck and your fingers in his hair. It was getting long again, but you liked it. You liked something to hold onto, just as much as he did. Your nails brushed against his scalp, down the back of his neck, earning a hum of pleasure from him. You wound your legs tightly around his hips and invited the press of his hard cock against your throbbing core, even through your panties and pajama pants. A faltering groan caught in his chest.

“Needier that I thought this morning,” he remarked. His warm hands drifted down to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over dark, pebbled nipples. You sighed into his mouth in response.

You heard the cocky grin in his voice, but for once, you didn’t care. You did need him. You wanted him to fuck the stress and chaos out of you.

…Well, he’d caused most of it, but still. He was gonna damn well fix it.

And he aimed to do just that, with his hands sliding farther down your body with purpose, grabbing the waistband of your pajama pants and roughly sliding them down, along with your panties. Your bare ass felt cold against the tile counter, but you didn’t have too much time to think about it with Ben’s thick fingers probing between the wet, glistening folds of your pussy. He soon found what he was searching for, circling firmly over your clit.

Your hips raised off the counter as you whimpered against his lips and ground yourself against his hand. You broke from his kiss to bury your face in his neck. Ben’s free hand grasped your hip and pulled you right to the edge of the counter.

There he held you down, his brows furrowing in concentration. His fingers sought your entrance and slipped inside you with ease. By now, he knew what angles would have you squirming, writhing, your body arching into him, while your inner walls clenched around his hand.

“Fuck. That’s right, baby doll. I’ve gotcha,” he said roughly, continuing to fuck your pussy with his fingers. His thumb rubbed against your clit between strokes.

The coil in your lower belly began to tighten, the delicious throbbing deep inside beginning to make your thighs shake. But just as you felt yourself tipping over the edge, Ben withdrew his fingers from your sopping channel.

You struggled to catch your breath in shock. Your head raised from Ben’s shoulder to glare at him. When your mouth opened to deliver an indignant protest, he silenced you with his mouth claiming yours. Your nails bit into his shoulder in retaliation, even though you knew it wouldn’t hurt him in the slightest. In fact, it only curved his lips into a smirk against yours.

You slapped him on the shoulder, immensely frustrated, but also laughing. “You’re such an assh—”

Before you could even finish cursing him, he gathered you up again and lifted you off the counter. He walked you over to the couch in the living room. He would’ve loved nothing better than to lay you out across the two-seater table in the kitchen, but he thought the shitty old wood might just give out under the strain of him fucking you. So the living room was a close second, and in this tiny-ass apartment, it was barely a few feet more to walk.

He laid you out underneath him on couch, and it groaned and squeaked under both of your weight. You squeaked too, if for a different reason. It had Ben smirking down at you. He freed himself from the confines of his pajama pants and coated his rock-hard arousal with the leftover wetness coating his hand.

“I approve of the scene change,” you said breathlessly, once again stroking his arms. Your fingers slipped over every dip and plain of muscle.  

“Didn’t think you wanted to be fucked on some cold tile,” he said, even if the sentiment behind his words warmed you. You were pretty sure he didn’t used to care about that. At least, before he met you.

He grabbed your hips, lined himself up to your entrance, and his cock breached you smoothly, pushing into you until his hips fit snugly against yours.

“Oh, fuck,” you choked out, your thighs squeezing around his frame.

“Feel good, sweetheart? All fuckin' filled up,” Ben teased, a bit breathless himself. You were a tight fucking fit. He slid out of you experimentally, drawing a moan from your lips. You nodded.

“Yeah, baby. So good,” you freely admitted, panting all the while.

Ben’s hot gaze drew over you as he continued moving hard and fast inside you. He took in your every bare curve, the way hot breaths and sexy moans fell from your lips with every thrust, the way your hair fanned out underneath you and hung off the side of the sofa cushion, the way your hands still explored him and touched him, demanding, but still loving.

For that, it was all the more tantalizing against his skin, warming even the darkest places he tried not to show you.

And every drag of his cock inside you stretched your inner walls in the most delicious of ways. It wasn’t just that he was able to fill you to the fucking brim. He also just knew his way around a woman’s body. He knew you, and he knew exactly how to make you come undone. Even quick and dirty on your couch, he made you feel brand new. 

He was right, damn him.

The coil deep inside you snapped. Pleasure crested through you and made your inner walls squeeze him tight, fluttering and pulsing with warmth. You came hard on his cock, hard enough to milk his release shortly after for all he was worth.

His forearms fell to the cushion on either side of your head. You were basically being smothered, but for the moment you didn’t mind. You just held his sweat-slick body against yours while you both caught your breath, each of your heartbeats falling back into a steady rhythm.

He was always so damn warm. It was nice, considering how cold it was this winter, but the thought always made you a bit sad. It reminded you of the power housed in his chest, and every memory he caged there as well.

You laid a gentle kiss on his shoulder. In return, his lips found the side of your head and hesitated there.

“You’re not going to work,” he said. It was more an observation than anything else.

You laughed breathlessly and shook your head. “Nope.”

He nodded. “Let’s go out for breakfast.”

You could get behind that. Your kitchen was finally clean, which meant your kitchen was closed until further notice.

“Shower first,” you stipulated.

You felt Ben’s smile grow against your dewy skin. “All right.”

You sighed, and he guided you to your feet along with him. You had a feeling “breakfast” was going to be lunch by the time you and Ben finally escaped this apartment.      

AN: Lol hope you had fun with this one! Let me know if you'd like to see more of these two! 💚💚

Spanish Translations:

Es que él es bruto, mija. Es como un animal con ropa.

It’s that he’s stupid, my daughter. He's like an animal with clothes.

However, “bruto” can also mean brutish, crude, and/or like a beast, so it fits in more than one way. 😂

Sabes que, …

You know what, …

La sirvienta

The servant (or maid) (female)

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[coochiekrab]

Re: keeping loved ones antlers

Deer at least shed antlers once every season when young, I would assume the Last Rack would be kept by family, but how common is it to give a friend a shed after being close to them? A lover? If you also have to shed as fur bearing animals semiseasonally how common are fur lockets, a la locks of hair in a locket?? This raises so many questions for me and may alter my gender presentation what have you done you beautiful genius

Okay so in my furryverse, to avoid Aubrey Regularly having months of No Antlers/baby antlers due to seasonal shedding i made it so that adults very very rarely naturally shed their antlers (like every few decades,if at all) and the most common reason for someone losing their antlers is physical trauma, and they can just be cemented back on with OTC fixatives (or surgically posted in place if they have a huge rack or brittle antlers). In my head an Adult Deers Naturally Shed Antlers would only have sentimental value once that deer dies otherwise it would be like “peepaw wants you to have his work socks, go tell him thank you” lol

HOWEVER i do like the idea of kids having yearly shedding and would think it would be really cute for families to keep their babies first shed like baby teeth and maybe embarrassing their young adult deer child by showing their fiancée their silly gangly last teenage shed when they visit for Christmas….

[niloksilverart]

Ignore how inconsistent the art style looks lol. In the messy beginnings of writing my story  'Is this a Brother?' I actually tried to draw a version of this scene. It wouldn't stop haunting my WIPs every time I even thought about drawing so I finally made an attempt at finishing it because I loved my little casual Ingo on the couch in the background too much to let it sit in purgatory

Chapter 3

Even after settling in at home, Emmet couldn’t find a reason why the International police wanted to talk about his brother and even when the suggestion of someone having mixed them up was floated they couldn’t find any reason why Emmet would be in trouble either. Unfortunately, they could also rule out a scam as they had previously had brief dealings with the agent known as Looker due to the Team Plasma incident. It was definitely him and his preferred contact number.

After a moment of consideration, Emmet concluded that the only way they could get answers would be to call him in the morning as it is late and he is going to bed.

That plan is dashed as his Xtransceiver starts to buzz with an inbound call. With the remains of his customer service façade, he answers.

“I am Emmet. It is the middle of the night. What do you want.” Probably could have been better.

“Ah… My apologies but you would agree that this is something very important, Mr Emmet we found your missing Brother Ingo earlier today in Sinnoh.” Brightly explains Looker.

“My brother isn’t missing. I saw him earlier today. In his usual place. Home. In Unova.” Emmet bluntly states.

“Are you sure that the Ingo with you isn’t a Zoruark?” Looker asks a little thoughtlessly, not realizing what a massive Faux pas he committed by insinuating that a twin was a Zoruark, especially a Unovan twin.

A cacophony of offended voices washed over him.

“HOW DARE-“ “MR LOOKER!!”

Emmet is only stopped from hanging up the phone in offence by the sound of his brother's voice coming from an unexpected direction, the Xtrans on his wrist.

“That is a very inappropriate thing to ask of anyone!” The voice continued.

Yep. That was definitely his brothers ‘I’m very disappointed in you' tone. He had a brief thought that maybe his brother was pulling a prank and calling from another room but that was quickly disproven when a second less offended voice sounded from behind him.

“Are you okay in there?” Ingo asked, peering into the room from behind Emmet. It seems Ingo’s voice was also picked up by the call as they seem to stop at the second Ingo voice.

“You didn’t even check if this Ingo’s shoes were missing before trying to get our Ingo to wear them!?” An incredulous-sounding child pipes up somewhere behind Looker.

“Of course I did! I called Gear Station and asked to speak with Subway Master Ingo and they told me he was missing!”

Both brothers look at each other and then back to the distressed-looking agent seemingly arguing with a child just off-screen.

His brother Ingo decides to step more clearly into the frame.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I had an unexpected day off due to some scheduling mishaps, I still don’t see what that has to do with my shoes, however.”

[lightlycareless]

I was reading your scorned ex husband stories and they made me so sad(especially the second one) then I started thinking about the twin au and like what if the twins parent trap them in a different divorced au? Lol. Naoya is still a dick obviously for splitting up twins(seriously who would do that??) but maybe not completely irredeemable for Y/N to forgive him 🥺 Hehe this is just something silly I thought up and wanted to share

Hellooooooo

Heheh this got me watching the movie again, right in the nostalgia. It had been so long since I last saw it that I actually didn't remember most of it, but I do think however: how the hell did they think that was a good idea 🤣 gee, talk about parent of the year.

Anyways, some liberties were taken to make the story work, though the premise is essentially the same.

Also, these are the works anon is referring to :) Ex-husband 1 & Ex-husband 2. Now onto the warnings:

Warnings: none major. Naoya is an a_hole, as always. Naomi and Naori are adorable, but poor kids seriously :'(.

Happy reading!!

If Naoya does this, you effectively hate him from that point forward.

It is non-negotiable, you never want to see him ever again, especially after the cruel words he used to justify the separation of his children:

“I only ever cared about Naori anyways.”

You made it your life-long purpose to keep Naomi from someone as despicable as her father—though it hurt you to do so, for it also meant you’d be away from your beloved son; just 2 years into his life… you barely got to make any memories with him before he was stripped away from your arms.

But such was the divorce agreement: the two would keep one child, and out of their lives.

Naoya remains in Kyoto with his son at the Zen’in estate, while you move back to Tokyo, close to your family but distant enough to have your own apartment. Just the two of you, the little home you always wanted.

In an unexpected turn of events, Naomi and Naori would go on completely unaware of each other until enrolling in the same elementary school.

It was almost undetectable at the beginning since Naomi now had your last name—but once teachers and students alike began to realize their physical similarities, it became impossible to ignore.

“No… we don’t look alike.” Naori would quietly complain. Out of the two, he was the least enthusiastic about this advancement, doing his best to avoid the limelight due to his reserved nature.

However, that wouldn’t mean anything to Naomi: ever the bubble one, she was nothing but to have a new best friend that looked just like her!

“We’re almost like twins!” she gasped—same hair color, eyes, height… how could they not? “I’ve always wanted a baby brother too.”

“Well, I don’t! And I could be older too, you know? Besides, why would I want a sister that’s weak and ugly…?”

Intended to hurt her, Naomi only laughed at his words, for it would take much more than that to bring her down—one could even say that the two were reflections of their respective parents in that matter: the only contrast between the two, as a matter of fact.

“That’s not true!” she happily refuted, taking hold of his hand and heading to the playground. “Now, come on! I want to go on the swings, and I need someone to push me!”

Though Naori was greatly unwilling at first, he’d soon warm up to her, mainly because she was part of the few, if not the only, kid that didn’t bother him because of his shyness; always rushing to the rescue whenever bullies began to swarm him, as well as reassure him there was nothing wrong with being the way he was.

And if that wasn’t enough, the food Naomi began to share with him (courtesy of you, after much insistence from her part) effectively validated their friendship.

“When will you ever bring him over?” you tease, it’s the happiest you’d ever seen your daughter! And for that, you couldn’t help but feel glad and obligated to repay the favor.

“I don’t know, mama. Nori-kun tells me his papa can be quite strict.”

You chuckle.

“Well, I’m sure I can convince him next time the parents have a meeting at school.”

“His papa doesn’t go to school.” Naomi frowns, her words making you sad for the poor child. “Says he’s too busy.”

“Oh, that’s awful. Well, what about the mama?”

“He doesn’t have one.”

Your heart longs to comfort him.

If they only knew…

And as time went on and their friendship flourished even more, so did their interests for one another; beyond those of their favorite colors and toys, and more into… personal grounds.

Matters that had always quietly hurt Naori one way or the other since he could remember; more so since you had been nothing but sweet and kind to a figuratively unknown kid, which highlighted the fact he never had that one thing he always wished for.

What he might never have, since his father has long given up on it, considering the way he coldly changes the subject, or completely ignores it. Naori simply… doesn’t talk about it.

Until now.

“Why don’t you have a dad?” He dares to ask; it’s no secret that the one to pick him up at school is one of his father’s many subordinates, always changing, not enough to be interesting to the other parents outside of how rich (or a jerk) he must be to have employees pick up his child.

Compared to you, always spoken of fondly for the following reasons:

If it was Valentine’s Day, you’d send Naomi with a big box of candies so she could share with all the class.

Halloween was the same, even hosting small gatherings if the children wished to celebrate in a safe environment.

If it was a classmate’s birthday, you always made sure to send them a personal gift or attend their birthday party. Your gifts might’ve put some parents to shame from time to time, but it didn’t matter, you kind of grew to be some kind of celebrity thus a few always tried to be on your good side—or Naomi’s, so to speak.

Naomi’s birthday… well, some fought to be on the guest list.

In other words,you were an amazing for both kids and parents alike, enough to inspire Naori to daydream about what it would be to have a loving mother like you—to always be at the door once it was time to leave, patiently waiting for the moment your daughter would come into view and subsequently pick her up into a tight, warm hug, followed by a kiss and wide smile as you urged Naomi to tell you all about her day.

Or more importantly, wonder if you were open to adopting him.

“Oh… that—I… don’t know!” Naomi responds truthfully. “Mama never talks about him.”

“Have you asked her?”

“Once or twice, but all she says is that I should focus on my studies!

…

But I can see how sad she gets whenever I mention him.” She continues. “Mama isn’t very good at hiding “adult talk” and neither is my auntie, so I always get to hear how lonely she is when they talk about him! … and how she should try dating other people, or whatever that means, so she wouldn’t feel like that anymore.”

“I think is when you marry someone.” Naori tries to explain, Naomi scowls out of disgust.

She doesn’t like the idea of sharing her mama with someone else, grows somewhat jealous too.

Well, maybe if it was Uncle Nanami, he’s always been nice to her and her mama. Not Geto because she plans on marrying him herself.

And she supposes her papa too… but how could someone you love make you sad?

“I don’t want her marrying anyone.” Naomi shakes her head. “She’s happy with me!”

“But don’t you wonder about your dad?” he asks. “What did he look like? How did he meet your mom?”

Or how they fell in love?

Naturally. Because just as Naori, and even after you tried your hardest to distract her from it… she too longed to have a father. Someone to play with her after finishing all her homework, put her over his shoulders and let her see the world from his height, or protect her from the monsters that lived inside the closet…

There must be an answer to both of their mysteries—people don’t simply disappear.

And such, is how they assigned themselves a new mission; a task of the upmost importance, requiring all their attention and care if they wish to uncover why they only have one parent—and who was such peculiar character.

Anything that could hint such solution is a chance they’d take, however…

To Naomi, this endeavor proved quite fruitless, for any indication of your past relationship was effectively ripped from the evidence. Quite literally: thousands and thousands of pictures cut in half, neatly removing the person that accompanied her mother—whom she assumed to be her father. And that’s without mentioning your consistent disapproval of the matter. Naomi was right where she began.

This lack of advancement both frustrated her and placed more pressure onto Naori’s efforts, which shockingly, turned to be quite more than what they bargained for. Getting results neither could’ve imagined, not even in their wildest dreams…

“Naomi-chan… I’m not sure if you’re ready to see this.” Naori would caution as he placed down a large wooden box before her, filled with his findings.

“Why? Why not, Naori-kun?” she frets, surely it couldn’t be anything too outrageous.

…Could it?

Yes, it could. And it was.

Because beyond the astonishing realization that all the pictures Naori brought were in virtually perfect shape…

The fact they both recognize the people in the photo, Naomi’s mother, wearing that same bright eyed, wide smile look on her face whenever particularly excited. Happy—alongside Naori’s father, with his usual dyed hair, ear piercings, and striking eyes…

Holding two newborn babies—named Naomi and Naori such as the inscription in the back stated, alongside their birth time and date (Naomi is older, at last is known) …

Is what truly shocked them.

…

…

…

You. Naoya.

Naomi and Naori.

Mama and papa.

A family, for all intents and purposes.

What everyone around them proclaimed: siblings.

Naomi and Naori were siblings. Twins.

“Does that mean we—”

Naori nods. If it hadn’t been obvious enough by now.

Nonetheless, as thrilling as this discovery was, for it essentially made their respective dreams come true… another question arose. One that undoubtedly could not proceed unanswered.

“Why aren’t our parents together?”

Or most importantly:

“How can we get them back together?”

“But what if they don’t want to?” Naori frets.

“I told you already! Mama looks very happy wit him, and auntie says she’s very lonely too… besides, if they get back together that means we’ll finally be a happy family! And isn’t that what you wanted?”

Naori presses his lips together, nodding.

“I want a happy family too. I’ve always wanted a papa to play with!” Naomi continues.

“And a mom to hug…” Naori adds. “What do we do?”

First…

Get them together, face to face. In other words, talk. It’s how adults always preached problems got solved.

Since you had given Naomi the impression you’re not interested in anything pertaining to Naori’s dad, she had to get creative. Force you into a position where you wouldn’t be able to ignore her as you’ve done before—and one where Naoya would inevitably have to go to school too.

It had to be a convincing excuse, and since the two were children in need of dire solutions, their innocent minds led them to the most extreme resolution yet.

“I need you to punch me.” Naomi says, determined.

“Why?!” he gasps.

“Because I need to get hurt for mama to come, and if you’re the one in trouble they’ll have to call your papa, and then, the two will be here, just as we planned!”

“Can’t we do something less dangerous…?” Naori doesn’t like the idea of getting in trouble with his strict dad, as if he weren’t insufferable enough…

“No, Naori. It must be this!”

“But I don’t want to punch you…”

“Come on, we have to do it to have a family!!” she insists. “Or do you not want mama to make you food every day? To hug you too??”

He swallows.

“I do.”

“Then do it!”

And… he does. After taking a deep breath, clenching his fist and hitting Naomi in what she could only describe the weakest punch she could’ve ever anticipated. Surely, not enough to make this case convincing.

“Naori! You have to hit harder than that!”

“I—I tried!” he cries.

“No, you didn’t!” she cries back. “You didn’t even try!”

“Ye—yes I did!” Naori frowns. “It’s not my fault I’m not as strong as you!”

“Yeah, right! You’re a boy, you’re supposed to hit harder!” Naomi adds, smirking soon after an idea crosses her mind. “… Then I guess you don’t really want a mama.”

“I do want a mom…”

“No, it’s fine. I should’ve known not to trust you with something so important anyways—” she says, words that brush each and every one of Naori’s insecurities. “You’re just as weak as everyone else says…”

With a frown on his face, and a sour tightness in his chest, little Naori quickly clenched his fist and prepared himself to prove her wrong once and for all. Show that he wanted this just as much as she did—if not more.

Naomi was trying her best to get a rise out of Naori, everything necessary to motivate a genuine hit out of him and get their plan in motion—she never meant any of those words, intended to apologize after all was said and done, though she doubted it would matter once they got what they sought after.

But it was almost comical how it happened, how he miscalculated his steps, how far his hand had to travel to hit Naomi, and how he ended up doing far more than necessary: but convincingly so, in the end. Tripping over her and sending the two tumbling down, loudly hitting the ground in such a motion that had them scraping their skin, and of course, tears following suit.

“Maaaaaaa, I want my mamaaaaa.” Naomi intuitively cried, tightly holding onto the teacher as the two were sent to the infirmary.

Naori didn’t cry much for his father, he rarely did considering his prominent absence, but just one look at his teary face and trembling lip, and it was obvious whom he sought for comfort—the same one the school somehow convinced to come along and deal with this unfortunate incident.

As well as the supposed altercation that made way for all this to happen in the first place.

“No, what do you mean a fight??” You’re the first to arrive, demanding a believable explanation from the teacher. “That’s not—that doesn’t sound like my daughter!”

“I know, I thought the same… but that’s what the kids are saying.” She explains. “That Naomi-chan was inciting Naori-kun to punch her, and that she was even saying awful things to get him to do that. I don’t know what they were doing, if they were playing a game or… I don’t know; all of it is so weird—I’m sorry.”

You sigh.

“It’s fine. There’s no need to stress when it’s already happened.” You explain. “Is the parent of the child here already?”

“Should be soon, but I don’t know if he’s actually coming, Naori’s dad isn’t quite… present.”

You frown at the name.

“Naori? Wasn’t he Naomi’s best friend?”

She nods.

“It just makes everything even more unbelievable… really, what’s gotten to them?”

You hope to figure such when speaking to the poor child your daughter allegedly antagonized, after apologizing for such behavior of course. Which you’d have to deal with after returning home—Naomi… seriously, what could’ve possibly gone through her mind to incite such act? Was she being bullied? Did Naori suddenly decide he no longer wanted to be friends with her?

And why did his name appear to be so… familiar?

You’d figure it out soon enough when entering the infirmary, quickly scanning across the room for your daughter—only to freeze upon locking into Naoya’s; a much smaller, softer version of them, that is.

“Mamaaaaa!!” Naomi quickly cries when seeing you walk past the door, rushing to your side and hugging you tightly, the adrenaline of the whole succession still vivid in her mind. “Mama, it—it hurts a lot!”

Comforting her ought to be your utmost priority, but at the sight of your estranged child, the baby you were forcibly stripped away from… you couldn’t think of anything else but pinching yourself to see if this was a dream—if he was truly there, before you: flesh and bone. After so many years of distance…!

And naturally, hug him. Keep him so, so close to you and never let go; to make up for all the time you’ve spent apart and the things you never got to do because of his undeserving, cruel father…

Who stomped past the door soon after, equally freezing when seeing his estranged child, and ex-wife after 5 years of imposed silence. Startled, as if he hadn’t been the deciding factor behind it all.

Or perhaps, the reason why Naori enrolled in this school in the first place.

“Y/N.”

“Naoya.”

Looks like there’s much to catch up to.

Obviously, part 2 is needed. Essentially where Naoya will disclose more of what the hell was going on in his mind when pulling that stunt, as well as some angst. I have to. hahaha

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this little thing I wrote; I do love it when we indulge into domestic au... but not at the expense of the kids 😭😭😭 think of the children!!! lol.

Well, 0nce again, thank you so much for sending in this ask!! Now take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[aihoshiino]

Imagine if things never went wrong between Ai and Hikaru, and they ended up getting married and raising Taiki together alongside Aqua and Ruby?

i feel so sorry for all the anons who send me cute prompts and then get responses like this lol

SO!!! To be very clear anon, this is not me being Mad At You and while I do 100% sound heated and mad in this response this is because this is something I feel pretty strongly about but haven't really had an outlet to explain lol. But I actually personally really hate the trend in fandom of portraying Taiki as being raised by Ai and Hikaru in hypothetical happy end AUs and I don't think people are REALLY actually thinking about what they're presenting here.

Like... Hikaru is a rape victim! Taiki is a child produced by Hikaru being raped, as a child himself no less! He did not consent to that pregnancy! Hikaru is not Taiki's father in any sense but the purely biological and he clearly does not have any positive or fatherly feelings for him - his absolute meltdown at Airi and Uehara's funeral is implicitly triggered by the sight of Taiki and his continued existence being a symbol of Airi's violation of him. And if 15 Year Lie is anything to go by, we have every reason to believe that Airi was not above weaponising the fact of her pregnancy to make Hikaru feel complicit in and eternally soiled by what had happened to him.

I hate resorting to this kind of rhetoric but imagine for a second that we were talking about a female character here - you immediately, instinctively recognise how utterly insane it would be to present "raising the baby she was forced to conceive with her rapist at age 11" as a happy end for her so why is Hikaru not given this same grace? What happened to Hikaru is not any less traumatic or less of a violation just because his rapist was the one who got pregnant.

To be clear, it's not like I don't understand where this comes from - this setup tends to exist in scenarios where the characters are uncomplicatedly healed and happy and this also applies to Taiki. His life is so goddamn miserable that I understand the instinct to want to put him in what we know is a happy family and to imagine him, too, as happy and loved there.

But what happened to Hikaru and how Taiki was conceived are topics that cannot and should not be made uncomplicated. I can understand a discomfort or reluctance to engage with the topic of CSA even in a purely canon typical context but the solution to that is not to just handwave it away and refuse to think about its implications when directly engaging with the character who is a CSA victim. I think it's shockingly irresponsible even in just a fandom context to portray "raising his rape baby" as a happy end for Hikaru or to present even implicitly the idea that he has some kind of obligation or fatherly duty to Taiki, a child who was conceived without his consent.

[theorahsart]

robespierre argued with other deputies to save camille from arrest? 😢

Yeah, for quite a long time too 😭 For this reason I get a little worked up when random ppl on IG leave me 'Didnt Robespierre kill his school friend...' comments, because it seems like quite a reductive statement.

Many Jacobins were becoming very hostile towards Camille, and on various occasions in Dec 1793 - Jan 1794, Robespierre was publicly defending his friend, and Danton too.

When things got more heated, Robespierre started defending Camille in a less obvious way. Such as publicly reprimanding him (calling him 'a thoughtless child' lmao) and suggesting that his pamphlet be burned. This was a sort of lifeline he was giving, like offering people who wanted Camille arrested, a compromise of burning the pamhlets instead, and giving Camille some leeway because of his hasty personality.

And, according to Camille's wife, Robespierre rallied against Camille for 2 days straight in the Jacobin club, and yet worked hard to get Camille reinstated to the club after he had been removed.

We could assume from these actions, that Robespierre was probably beginning to fear that his own life would also be in danger if he defended Camille more openly. And Lucille (Camilles wife) writes this reflection on Robespierre at the time:

"When he didn't think or act according to the will of a certain number of individuals, he did not have all the power"

Camille never really took the hint though lol And I think probably assumed Robespierre had more influence than he actually did in the CPS. And so was brave enough to continue in writing his pamphlet, and remaining close to Danton.

I personally think maybe for a time, Robespierre also thought he had more control than he did- he was happy to approve of the initial pamphlets that got Camille into trouble- which he downplayed when things got more heated.

Apparently Robespierre didn't agree to the arrest of the Dantonists until 2 weeks before it happened, even though there had been pressure to do this for a while. Robespierre was still having meetings with Danton until this time to try and help find a compromise. A contemporary of Robespierre's, Tissot, said this of Robespierre's stance on the situation with Danton specifically:

"Robespierre did not want Danton's death, but he was easily frightened"

lol I think I would be too, when my fellow CPS members are calling me a traitor for being too soft on Danton, and trying to throw me out of windows 😂

And yeah, after Camille's arrest and death, things spiralled quite quickly for Robespierre- I struggle to think Camille's death didn't leave an impact or contributed to that. But ofc you can never know for sure u_u

[fanofstuff01]

We don’t have enough Lucifer angst in the Adamsapple church. It’s mainly Lucifer comforting Adam and don’t get me wrong I absolutely LOVE that, but.. Come on that man is a gold mine of angst.

The guy doomed and got thrown out of his only home, and away from his only family. (I’m not going into depth here I tried a few times and it always ended up being a rant lol)

For who? His wife yeah keep it in mind.

Oh and also at the same time he ruined the entire humanity and their chance at living in paradise, and literally created Hell. Not the place, from what we do know now, but the concept. He created the eternal punishment for souls that maybe, maybe would now be in Heaven if he didn’t touch them.

And since this is MY Adamsapple he also ruined Adam and Eve. Or at least, he thinks that way, after all those years. Even just the tiny sting of it, there’s still a self blame there again.

Again for his wife.

THEN, when Heaven came up with a solution to a possible rebellion, what did he do? Allowed them to kill any sinner. Why? -Well we don’t actually know it but this is already going to tie into an impossible ship shut up- He wanted to protect his family. And also was so disgusted and disappointed in what he gave to humans, what they decided to do with his gift.

Then, what happened? He disappointed his only child because of the desicion, causing her to go away too.

AND THEN, his wife, who may I remind you he damned an entire species for, went ahead and left him. We don’t know why yet but she seems pretty chill in the Heaven’s beaches.

But what we do know is, Lucifer 1000% feels guilt and blames himself for driving her away too. For losing everything he lost everything for.

And on top of all of it he lost the respect he had in Hell and his authority as a King, not to mention the only sort of friends he had (probably) again, because of what? None other than the Devil himself.

That guy hates himself and needs someone who also does to comfort him.

Preferably that someone is the one he ruined the most back then without even knowing the full length and story.

Ehe

[heavenlymorals]

Do you have any tips for how to write Arthur Morgan’s personality in general? I’m trying to write a fic but I feel like no matter what I do it somehow just makes him feel out of character haha. It’s probably since I’m writing one with a reader/oc character x Arthur. Like I don’t want to remove Mary from the story because she shaped so much of his character’s pain (since in my opinion I assume that Arthur probably got Eliza with child from a one night stand trying to bounce back after Mary had told him that she was engaged to some other man). But I also don’t know how to really write Arthur as he’s completely over Mary and how he is instead with someone he considers the love of his life, cheesy I know but I had too haha. I’m also trying to somewhat do a slow burn and trying to instead have Arthur seemingly brood over his love for the reader rather than how he did with Mary in the game.

I don’t know if this makes sense and feel free to ignore it LOL

Ahah here goes nothing- my consensus on a general understanding of Arthur Morgan-

I think the biggest thing that people should focus on when writing Arthur is his personality differences between men and women. There is a pretty clear divide between how behaves with men compared to how he behaves with women. It can change slightly between how close he is with the people, but it's pretty much the same.

With women, Arthur is very respectful and chivalrous. He even gets mad at other men if they don't behave accordingly. He is more interested in them as well in the sense that he'll listen to their dreams and hobbies and either add to the conversation or encourage them in some way that seems more meaningful, even if it can be at times superficial, just a way to be polite. However, he is no push over. You know that meme that's like "Me and my girl don't argue, she tells me to shut the fuck up and I do"? Yeah, that is NOT Arthur. He can raise his voice, call them out, etc etc. when he feels disrespected in some way or if the person is doing something stupid. We see this with Mary, Sadie, and Abigail. He is also more likely to talk about his emotions with women, but not really BE emotional. Idk if that makes sense, but I don't know how else to say it.

However, Arthur is more inclined to be disrespectful to women who don't fit into his view of life and the status quo of the time (ie. Prostitutes, masculine women, etc.)

Honestly, just think of that when writing him with your oc (I'm going to assume they're a woman 😭). Is Mary a big part of Arthur's character? Yes and no. He can obviously make time for her, but she isn't controlling his every action and thought process. His main focus is the collective of the gang and once the gang is safe, that's when he'll actively start looking for love because that's when he'll have the time and energy for it.

Now with men, Arthur is much more rough. He is very much a suck it up kinda guy with other dudes. There is clearly a hierarchy in the game and he enforces it, especially with the men underneath him. He forces them to work, doesn't take their excuses really, will call them out, will be mean, and will even make threats (ie. Sean). He likes men who are hard workers and are always on the go (Lenny) and is more likely to be jovial, open, and willing to talk. He also will take NO shit from other men and that will either leave the other man read to filth or a black eye. Arthur also does not disclose feelings of fear or inadequacy to other men, but he will show more active emotions like joy or anger.

Honestly, whenever I feel like writing Arthur, I just think of the average older American outdoorsman and it helps me out pretty well. Chivalrous and respectful with expectations and a no bullshit attitude.

Hope this helps and happy writing 🫶🏼

[avopumpkin]

Your Time To Shine: New Horizons

Your Turn To Die × Animal Crossing: New Horizons

I was bored and decided to put too much effort into assigning ACNH characters to YTTD characters. No one asked but everyone will get it anyway.

Sara got Maple (It's kind of sad that Maple didn't get Maple, but oh well...). I just thought it would be a good choice for Sara. And also Maple's education hobby was a deciding factor for this.

Reko got Cherry. I don't think I have to explain it. Cherry also looks like NaoReko child. She got sisterly personality and music hobby. It's a perfect character for Reko.

Nao got Poppy. Poppy just reminded me a little about Nao, so I decided to go with this choice. 💖

Kanna got Lily. I can't explain it but I just felt it with my soul, lol. And because they're both really cute and they both will take over the world soon. <33

Joe got Kevin. Kevin just looked a little like Joe. Plus, in ACNH he got a jock personality, what gives me Joe's vibe, so I went with Kevin.

Keiji got Kyle. Do I need to explain? Just look at his eyes. His cranky personality is visible from far away already.

Q-Taro got Rory. Red hair and jock personality? Yup, that's him. It's a shame Rory didn't have fitness hobby. An alternative choice was Mott, who is a jock and got a fitness hobby, but Mott didn't really give me Q-Taro's vibe.

Gin got Dom. I was thinking for a while about who Gin should get. And in the end I decided to go with Dom. This rainbow spiral also reminded me and @goldyluna about rainbow infinity symbol, what is also a symbol of autism, so it was a deciding factor for me. Also, Gin and Dom are cute, so they're perfect.

Kai got Chief. A cranky cook that looks like he would also be your bodyguard. This is them.

Shin got Wolfgang. I must admit, it was kind of hard for me to choose someone for Shin. Especially because I really wanted personality to be at least similar. So I decided to choose Wolfgang, who is cranky. ✨ And for me he kind of looks like Shin.

Mishima got Cobb. I don't think I have to explain. The looks. The personality. The hobby. It's full-blooded Mishima. Jock whose hobby is education. It's him in another universe, in universe of crossing animals.

Alice got Lobo. Similarly to Shin, I had some trouble with choosing someone for Alice. But in the end I think Lobo is a good choice for him. ✨

Sue Miley got Kitty. No special reason behind this, I just thought Kitty would be a nice choice for Sue Miley. :3 meow

Tia Safalin got Deena. Very cute, both liking education. Tia is Deena and Deena is Tia.

Maple got Merry. They both look like a nice company for some tea. Also, Merry's fringe gives me Maple's vibe. <3

Gashu got Brewster. I had no doubts about it. True gentlemen. They are the same person.

Rio Ranger got Marshal. I also don't have any reason for this choice. I just saw Rio in Marshal, so chose him. B)

Meister got Wilbur. My reason for this was really simple as well. I just thought Wilbur is a good choice for him. <3

Midori got Redd. My beautiful, manipulative, cunning boys. <3 Midori for sure would be Redd in ACNH, selling fake arts.

Transmaru Ranmaru got Cashmere. Please ignore the fact that Cashmere is female. Or don't, because we support trans Ranmaru in this household. 💅

Anzu got Rosie. Rosie gave me Anzu's vibe, so I went with this choice. <3

Mai got Tangy. My peppy girls. <3 When I first saw Mai while playing YTTD, I called her a waffle, so food related character is a perfect choice for her. >:3

Hinako got Queenie. Queenie's colours, eyes and hair resembled Hinako. I'm glad that it was my final decision. B)

Kurumada got Rasher. They both look so similarly. They're both cranky. ✨ I think Rasher was a nice choice for Kurumada.

Hayasaka got T-Bone. They both look like businessmen, the colours are also perfect. I truly believe T-Bone is just Hayasaka in ACNH.

I was trying to choose characters that are at least similar from personality and looks, but it was not always possible. I still had fun doing this, so I'm sharing this little project of mine. I wasn't able to say much about some of them because I just had a feeling about certain characters, and that's why I wasn't able to give arguments for some. But well, it was just how I felt and I'm sure some of you would choose someone completely different. And I'll be happy to hear your opinions about it. <3

[dramashutup]

Idk if this is intended but like, once again i gotta comment on how this kinda fits with how Sanha and Dal both were more comfortable anticipating other people's needs than their own

Like, Dal doesn't get that validation from the person she needs it the most, her mum, that she's perfect just the way she is. The lawyer that her daughter is. The emphatetic, and kind her daughter is. And as a result Dal thinks she's just not enough.

Sanha doesn't talk about himself much, reassuring everyone, even his mother that he's alright even when he's not. Even when his shoulder hurts so much from the burn. Even when he also misses So Jung because he does, she was also his sister. Even tho he also missed his mother, the way she used to be motherly towards him when he was younger; he never said any of it.

Juwon noticed that. And despite all his assurances, she wondered.

Hae Jun notices it with Dal too. That she's a sweet, kind person and he wants to know more about her.

Ah well me and my child-of-trauma noticing brain lol

[hyperfixationcritter]

So I'm still thinking about Mel and Viktor in a Soul Eater au 😂

I've only watched the anime so I'm going more based on that, but I know/looked up in the past what happens in the manga when it comes to the fate of Crona and Maka.

I still think it'd be interesting to have Viktor in a Crona-like role in the story given his whole transformation arcs that, despite my MANY criticisms of how it was handled this season, are integral to his character. I'd want to find a way to give him more autonomy though, at least later down the line. I can picture Singed playing a role like Medusa but in a more oddly chill kinda way because of how he is as a character instead of actively malicious and sadistic like Medusa (he'd totally try to create a new Kishin just because). That and they're both characters who just keep making it out scot-free for either the entirety of the story or for a long ass time (depending on if you're referring to anime or manga Medusa).

Mel's relationship with Ambessa and her own secret magic made me reconsider if I wanted to incorporate some Medusa and Crona elements with them instead but I decided against that for a couple of reasons. Viktor being the one set up as a calamity in canon, fit better with a Crona-like role for this au whereas Mel is chosen by the Black Rose to be their silver bullet against him. Plus, Mel working on the council in Piltover would translate better to working in the Death Weapon Meister Academy.

Also, because of the theories around Mel and Ambessa being Kindred blessed and canon stating/implying that she has a secret magic parent, I think it'd be cool for her to either be a child of death like Death The Kid or blessed in some way by Kindred who'd take the role of Death in Soul Eater. Alternatively or additionally she could be half witch and the Black Rose could play the role of witch society in this au that tries influence Mel given her position in the Academy and witch heritage. I feel like there was a character in the Meister Academy that was secretly a witch or half witch but I can't remember. That's where the alternate/additional idea came from tho.

I've said it a bajillion times, but there's so many parallels and similarities between Mel and Viktor and because of my off hand comment about it being cool if, in a different/more high-stakes magic oriented story, they channeled some Crona and Maka energy... it'd be really cool to me personally to explore some of that in this au.

This way I can also shoe-horn in a Mel reaches out to Viktor's soul or vice versa moment like my fanart lol XD (that episode where Maka reaches out to Crona is still one of my favorites 😭💖 especially when they paralleled that moment later down the line).

Also, I'm thinking Jayce would be Mel's weapon in this au because I feel that just fits for them, Mel being the meister and him being the weapon, since she was the main patron of hextech and he works in a forge.

When I have more thoughts about this, I'll post them too. I'm considering how the black blood plot point could affect Mel and Jayce like it does with Maka and Soul. I'm also thinking about what other characters in the show would be weapons, meisters, witches, etc. so I might make that developing list a separate post or just reblog this again and add onto it.

[gaiuskamilah]

pleeeeeaaaase tell me more about aerin being groomed by the dreadlord !!! (analyses, headcanons, anything you want)

minor spoilers for b3 ahead! also cw for discussions of grooming and canon-typical abuse, a brief mention of rape, mentions of books where rape & grooming are big topics (lolita & my dark vanessa). this got really long lol

so it's pretty much established that aerin was already very much isolated from people at a young age due to a number of factors, his fear of and abuse by baldur (and arlan) being the primary reason for that. he was also a meek and shy child who wasn't as popular in court compared to baldur. aurinae also died early in aerin's life, leaving him without the one figure who actually cared about him.

all this contributes to aerin being extremely vulnerable to the dreadlord. (minor spoiler) in b3 aerin mentions that he was nine when the dreadlord first started speaking to him. when you're a young vulnerable child like him, it's easy to fall prey to someone who seems like they have your best interests at heart. his family was either dead or resented him, he's the spare who people don't care about - the dreadlord's promises sound really good! we only got little of the dreadlord himself throughout the books, but i like to think the dreadlord did not actually care about him, only using him as a means to an end as he was a vulnerable child in a position the dreadlord can exploit.

(spoiler) aerin also mentions that the nerada stone was given to him after an incident where he accidentally used shadow, and that most shadow magic was done with the dreadlord's help. to me, the giving of the nerada stone is like a predator going "don't tell anyone, it's our little secret, okay?" i like to think this little secret between the two of them makes aerin feel special, and wanting for more, even if keeping the secret very physically hurts him (as mentioned in b1). what a lot of people don't seem to understand is that a lot of the times groomers make their victims feel special, and that causes a lot of mixed feelings from the POV of the victim. they do genuinely start to love their abusers, and from that line of thinking i like to think that aerin similarly has complicated feelings for the dreadlord (as does nia have for the temple of light, kamilah & adrian for gaius, etc etc).

with all this done i also like to build more on the idea of aerin's isolation. another thing that tends to be ignored is how the structures around the victim actually assist in perpetuating and providing avenues for the abuse to happen. in lolita (i keep mentioning this book on my blog, lolitapilled forever i fear), humbert tells dolores that she has nowhere else to go, that if she reported it to authorities etc they would shame her and mark as rotten forever and insitutionalize her and she'd never have a normal life ever again -

“While I stand gripping the bars, you, happy neglected child, will be given a choice of various dwelling places, all more or less the same, the correctional school, the reformatory, the juvenile detention home, or one of those admirable girls’ protectories where you knit things, and sing hymns, and have rancid pancakes on Sundays. ... if we two are found out, you will be analyzed and institutionalized, my pet, c’est tout. You will dwell, my Lolita will dwell (come here, my brown flower) with thirty-nine other dopes in a dirty dormitory (no, allow me, please) under the supervision of hideous matrons. ... Don’t you think that under the circumstances Dolores Haze had better stick to her old man?”

which he isn't exactly wrong about! if aerin had opened up to the people around him about what was going on, what would they do? if he went to his family, they'd shun and hate him even more. if he went to the temple, they'd brand him a heretic and also shame him even more (minor spoiler again-in b3, this is what is implied to have happened to nia). none of these institutions, the family & the church, would have ever had his well being at heart. they are the same institutions which shunned (family) him in the first place and would have shunned (church) him anyway because he didn't and wouldn't have been able to live to their ideals. again, family and religion aren't ontologically pure things - they're institutions which often exist to perpetuate the status quo.

that's to say that i personally hc that aerin has a lot of mixed feelings for the dreadlord. taking this line from my dark vanessa (also a book i love so much) -

“It only accelerated after that, once he knew I was ok with it—and isn’t that what consent is, always being asked what you want? Did I want him to kiss me? Did I want him to touch me? Did I want him to fuck me? Slowly guided into the fire—why is everyone so scared to admit how good that can feel? To be groomed is to be loved and handled like a precious, delicate thing.”

the thing is, aerin did want the things the dreadlord seemed to promise. no one else was left to treat him nicely. he loved that the dreadlord could give him the power to change his circumstances. and it felt good! he admits in b2 that he didn't regret killing baldur! him wanting that doesn't make him any less of a victim, but i think a lot of discussions around this tend to overlook this feeling, because it's a lot less easier to swallow than the typical Huge Evil Perpetrator/100% Unwilling Victim narrative that tends to get pushed around a lot. (i also don't like how people seem to be assigning morality to grooming. anyone can be groomed, and acting like the victims always have to conform to this perfect standard does not help at all actually)

so. anyway. i'd love more things/discussions about aerin and an interpretation where his feelings for the dreadlord are more complicated. where he accepts that the dreadlord took advantage of him, but he also can't find it in himself to FULLY hate the dreadlord, that sometimes he misses the dreadlord, sometimes he can't stand to remember how the dreadlord physically hurt him for over a decade in order to keep their little secret (can be read as a rape, imo, though it's not as overt as the dreadlord literally taking nia's body, which @puredoesnotmeankind @livelaughlovecassie and i like to read it as). the dreadlord potentially holding the fact that he was the one who's helping and "caring for" aerin over aerin's head. complicated feelings!! messy interpretations that are more true to complex human feelings and whatnot. i'd love that.

[rey-jake-therapist]

Excuse me ? "it's you who started it", are you twelve ? You're accusing me of things that other shippers have done, so tone down your voice please.

Yes it was me who posted this comment, I won't deny it. It was in this post, that commented on a post quoting an article that claimed that Galadriel was "done with Sauron" and that Celeborn was an extremely important character in the story of LOTR and that it was imperative that the show would introduce him now. YES I called certain Celeborn stans delusional not because they ship Galadriel and Celeborn lol but because they often make him a much more important than he is, and are also often vocal on how that now Galadriel will "step back", her life will turn around him. This is just not going to happen. And YES I called this take in particular delusional because

1) Galadriel is not done with Sauron, wether you ship it or not it will always remain a very important connection the show

2) Celeborn is a side character, he's not important. Is he important for Galadriel ? Of course he is, he's her husband, the father of her child. But in the overall story? No, he isn't, and no, it's not crucial that he shows up in the story now. But if he does, he does ! I won't stop watching the show because Celeborn appears.

3) and yes some Celeborn stans are often very annoying and agressive, you just proved it. That's why I said what I said in the screenshot. For the record, it came just a few days after certain Celeborn stans blamed Haladriel shippers for chasing Charlie Vickers away from Instagram, while they had nothing to with it, as it was proven. So yes, I was pissed, and I don't do it often but this day I generalized. It was wrong, but since you're just doing exactly the same thing to me by accusing me of things that other people did, I can't say i feel very guilty.

Idgaf about your ship, and i don't think I said anything remotely negative about it in this post, did I ? I called it 'boring', but I also said that most marriages are boring, as 'uneventful'. I find it boring as a subject to watch and analyse, okay ? Christ, I even called my own past relationship 'boring', and I loved most of it ! I don't think it's being anti shipping to say that I'm not obsessed with the daily routine of a married couple to the point of imagining their life together or write fanfic about it.

All that you accuse ME of saying (I say 'me', because I'm the one being personally attacked here. I don't represent the Haladriel fandom as a whole, mind you) : sorry bro, wrong target, because I never called any of C/G shipper 'delusional'. Some of those who use their ship to attack mine annoy me, yes, but I'm also well aware that it's not the majority of the shippers who do that (I know there are fellow shippers that claim that most C/G shippers are fake, but I. am. not. them.)

I also never called any shipper 'puritan incel' for wanting a wife and a husband to be reunited. Not only it will happen, but it HAS to happen. I'm not an idiot, I know how the story ends and it ends well for your ship and really not well for mine. I'm totally cool with it, I even love my ship for this reason, among others.

Also, you're a former Reylo

Ahhhhh again, wrong target bro, I'm not at all a former Reylo, never been a Reylo. I had a vague interest for it at some point, but it quickly passed. And I'll even confide you one thing : I'm always profundly annoyed when I see Haladriel being claimed as another Reylo, because these dynamics are for me extremely different. Sauron is not Kylo Ren, for which I'm very grateful because I can't stand the guy (sorry my Reylo friends, but it is what it is. Love on you though).

Don't start talking me about fandom etiquette when you're the one attacking me. The comments you screenshot were adressed in a post that didn't tag your ship or your beloved Celeborn, so you found it because you wanted it. People are allowed to express negative opinions on a fictional character, and you are allowed to block them if you don't like it. THIS is basic fandom etiquette. Every day I find the worst takes on characters I love, and yet you don't see me whining in the mentions of whoever posted them. Most of the time I just shrug it off and scroll down, because I'm a grown woman !

However, I don't support any of the behaviours you're accusing me of having. I'm not for attacking real people over their like of a ship or of a fictional character.

I'll leave you time to read this answer, then I'll indeed block you because I don't need this kind of nuisance. Go find somebody else to pile on, because you got the wrong person here, clearly.

Why is it so hard to understand that Sauron being the villain and downright evil is precisely what makes Saurondriel a fun and interesting ship to play with ?? I mean it's so amusing to see people clutching their pearls over the fact that many viewers (women mostly) find this dynamic attractive, as if the point of shipping was not often to have FUN playing dolls with fictional characters who if they existed in real life, would have no business being together. Unlike real life toxic relationships, the fictional ones are HARMLESS. Unless you can't dissociate fiction and reality and don't see that Galadriel is a fictional character, there's nothing harmful in shipping her with anyone else than her husband.

I'm not sorry to say I don't see why I should ship Galadriel with her currently dead husband, while Galadriel herself doesn't seem to give a shit about him at all (in the show). Seeing some people bemused that no more fans ship her with Celeborn as if a relationship being canon made it automatically fun to ship is a bit funny, to say the least.

I don't see any fun in imagining scenarios where they live their very normal marital life, raise their very normal kid and sometimes have dinners with their very normal family. Why don't more people ship Galadriel and Celeborn ? Because it's boring that's why. I see boring married people everyday in real life already, my own marital life was mostly boring as well (except when my ex decided it was "put you down for no reason" day.... I preferred the boring days), why the hell would I care for fictional boring married people ?

Don't get me wrong, It doesn't mean that I don't want Galadriel to have this life ! I want her to be happy, of course, but see what's great with Saurondriel is that I KNOW that it will never be a threat to Galadriel's life with Celeborn. I KNOW that he'll come back at some point, I KNOW that she'll have this peaceful marital life, and us shipping Galadriel and Sauron will never change that because it's already written.