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pedroscurls · 25 days ago

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training partners (pt. 7)

summary: you and hugh navigate the new aspects of your relationship while filming continues, and it includes consistent gym sessions. meanwhile, someone from your past reaches out to you. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: bit of angst / smut (18+), implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), brief insecurity and mention of age gap, smut (public sex - in the gym oops!, unprotected p in v, oral - m receiving) no use of y/n. word count: 3.7k a/n: and we're back with these two in the gym! i just love writing hugh in the gym as it's the only way i can live out my fantasies of ever meeting him in the gym myself lol. hope y'all enjoy - we're gonna slowly transition into some angst... so stay tuned! this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part. - next part.

You’re looking down at your phone, staring at the picture Hugh posted last night of the both of you. You can see the comments and have read quite a handful already. You know what to expect, but it still doesn’t lessen the hurt that you feel in the pit of your stomach when you glance over the negative comments.

And most, if not all, mention the age gap. It had never been an issue to either of you, but now that other people have taken notice, you can’t help but wonder if Hugh thinks the same.

He’s calling out to you, a bag slung over his shoulder as he’s dressed in a navy blue tank top and shorts. You’re both scheduled to meet with Ryan and Shawn at the gym for a quick session before filming continues tomorrow. You had jumped at the chance to join them, yearning to be at the gym and get a good workout in.

“Hey, you ready to go?” he asks, extending a hand out for you to take.

You nod and take his hand, dressed in a pair of leggings and one of his t-shirts. You lace your fingers with his instantly, following him out of the hotel room and towards the hotel’s gym. Your mind weighs heavily on the comments you read earlier, glancing over in his direction to see if maybe he’s seen the comments too.

But if it bothers him, he doesn’t show it.

Hugh smiles down at you, releasing your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to his side. He presses a soft kiss on your temple and holds you close to him, hand running along your arm.

“I love you,” he whispers.

You bite your lower lip, smiling to yourself. It just feels like everything that had been bothering you that morning disappears at his words, at the look on his face.

“I love you too,” you reply, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“You doing okay?” Hugh asks.

You nod, though you know that he would be able to see right through you. When you both stop at the doors of the hotel gym, he brings a hand up to rest on your cheek.

“Are you sure?”

“Just thinking, that’s all.”

“About last night? About what I said?”

You shake your head immediately. “No, no. Not that. Just–” you sigh. “I saw the comments on the picture and I know what to expect, but it doesn’t mean that it hurts any less. Reading what they have to say about this, about us… I know it shouldn’t matter, but it does.”

Hugh nods in understanding, sighing quietly. He’s learned to drown out the comments, to pay no attention to it, but he’d be lying if he said that there are times where it still gets to him. He wishes he can shield you from it, to protect you from all the bad in the world, but he knows that isn’t possible. He just hopes that it doesn’t deter you from this, from him.

“Does our age gap bother you?” you blurt out.

Hugh’s eyes furrow in confusion and he shakes his head. “No, it never did.” he brushes his thumb across your cheek before he drops his hand back to his side. “Does it– Does it bother you?”

“No,” you answer instantly. “I just saw some comments and–”

“Baby,” Hugh sighs quietly. “There will always be comments about this, about you and me… But I promise that it doesn’t mean a thing to me. All that matters is that you’re here with me,” he says softly. “You’re all that matters.”

You sigh and nod in agreement. “I know… And I know that this is the price you have to pay for being in the public eye. I’ll try to ignore all the outside noise.”

“What you’re feeling though is valid, baby.” Hugh reassures. “I just want you to know that I love you, that isn’t going to change.”

“I love you too, you whisper, standing on your toes to peck his lips. “We should probably head inside. I’m sure Shawn and Ryan are already waiting for you.”

Hugh nods. “We’ll talk more later, okay? And if you need someone to spot you, you know who to ask.”

You smile. “Yeah, my training partner,” you wink.

“Damn right,” Hugh grins.

—

Luckily, your trainer had sent you a workout routine while you’ve been gone. Hugh had gone off to workout with Shawn and Ryan at the other end of the gym and just like always, your eyes drift over to him repeatedly when he begins to curl the dumbbells, his biceps flexing.

You had just finished your dynamic stretching when you take note of the heavy bag at the corner of the room. You smile to yourself in excitement and begin to wrap your hands and then sliding on your boxing gloves. Your music is blasting in your ears and it provides just enough of a distraction that you remain focused solely on the bag in front of you.

With every exhale, you deliver a quick jab and cross to the bag, staying light on your feet.

Hugh’s eyes immediately move over to you, eyes widening at the sight of you. He had no idea that you could move around the way you do and hit the bag like you are doing now. There’s something in the way you move, the way you hit the bag with precision that makes Hugh excited. Seeing you like this in a completely different element in the gym turns him on and he tries not to think about taking you in the bathroom and–

“Hugh, you’re up,” Shawn says, pointing towards the bench.

“Oh,” Ryan grins. “Someone’s a little distracted,” he winks. “You never told us she could box.”

“I actually didn’t know,” Hugh mumbles. “She never told me.” He moves to lie back on the bench, head lifting just slightly to look at you. You had taken a break, eyes locking with his and you grin. It takes everything in Hugh to not just end the workout early and take you back to the room.

“She’s actually pretty good,” Shawn points out with a chuckle. “Now, come on and finish your set, Hugh.”

You take a long break to watch Hugh continue to press the weight above his chest. You bite your lower lip, eyes taking in his frame and his muscles flexing with each movement. You hear the timer go off, indicating that your rest is over. You wait until he sits up, eyes once more locking onto yours and he winks.

God, he’s thinking the same thing you are.

Turning back around, you continue to finish the rest of your round with punches and hooks, not realizing how much you need to hit something to get rid of the lingering thoughts that remain.

When the final round is over, you see Hugh approach you, already drenched in sweat. He rests his hand on your lower back, gently pressing a kiss on your temple as he whispers quietly.

“You continue to surprise me, baby.”

“Yeah?” you ask, turning to look up at him.

“You never told me that you could… do that,” he says, pointing to your gloves and then the heavy bag. “Since when?”

You let out a quiet laugh and remove the gloves, setting it back in your bag as you move a hand to rest on his chest. “Been doing it for a few years now,” you answer.

“You’re good,” Hugh’s voice lowers, eyes gazing at your entire frame. “You look good doing it too.”

You feel the heat in your cheeks as you bite your lower lip. “Been staring at me, huh?”

“You’re distracting,” he grins. “Thought we already established this.”

You roll your eyes playfully and lean up to press your lips lightly on his. “Could say the same about you. I just want to bite down on these arms,” you tease, hand moving from his chest to run along his bicep.

Hugh flexes instinctively, hearing you let out a quiet gasp. He smiles to himself as his hand on your lower back lowers until it rests innocently on your backside. “You still have the rest of your workout to do?” he asks, eyes darkening with lust and want.

“Yeah,” you reply, biting your lower lip. “That was just my warmup and–”

“Take a long rest with me?” he interrupts.

“Shawn and Ryan are literally waiting for you, baby.”

“They can wait,” Hugh says, head dipping lower until he brushes his lips across the side of your neck. “Or they can just continue the workout without me. I don’t need to workout. I’m already fit for the role and–”

“Okay,” you interrupt. “Should we go back to the room or–”

“Bathroom.”

“The bathroom? Wait, are you serious?”

Hugh nods and brings you flush against his front so that you could feel the bulge beneath his shorts. “Very serious, baby. I need you now,” he whispers.

You nod quickly and then pull away only briefly to unravel the hand wraps, setting it back into your duffle bag. “I’ll meet you in there then.”

Hugh smiles and leans down to peck your lips. “See you in a bit, baby.”

You quickly hurry to the bathroom down the hall, stepping inside as you bite your lower lip. It’s small, but spacious enough that Hugh wouldn’t feel too cramped.

Hugh then turns to Shawn and Ryan who are both looking at him with a knowing grin. “Yeah, yeah, we got it. Just keep it down,” Ryan chuckles.

“Just continue the workout without me and if you guys finish before–”

“Before you do,” Ryan winks. “Don’t worry, Hugh. We’ll probably leave after this set.”

Hugh nods, “Thanks, mate. I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Then, he turns on his heel and makes his way down the hallway. He knocks on the door and sees you open it. He grins to himself and steps inside, an arm snaking around your waist immediately as he shuts the door and locks it behind him.

“Hi,” you giggle, arms moving to wrap around his shoulders. “Missed you.”

“Hi, baby,” he grins, leaning down and beginning to pepper kisses along your jawline and down the side of your neck. Hugh’s hands move down to grasp your backside in his large hands, squeezing each cheek as he brings you flush against him. “Missed you. Need you,” he mumbles.

“You got me,” you whisper, letting out a quiet whimper as you feel his hardened length press further against your midsection. Gently, you rest your hands on his chest and push him away from you. He furrows a brow at you, back resting against the wall. He’s about to say something, about to ask if you’re okay, but you drop to your knees in front of him. “Let me take care of you.”

“Baby, you don’t have to,” he mumbles. His eyes flutter when you bring your hands to tug down his shorts and boxers, letting the articles of clothing pool at his ankles. Hugh lets out a sigh of relief and he reaches down to grasp his base, tugging on it a few times before he feels your lips wrap around his tip. “Fuck,” he whispers.

You slowly push his hand away and replace it with your own as you suck the head of his length, feeling the taste of his precome on your tongue. You feel his large hand rest on the back of your head, urging you to take more of him. You happily oblige, lowering yourself to take more of his throbbing length into your mouth. You can taste his sweat and precome mixing in with your saliva as you begin to bob your head.

“Baby,” Hugh whimpers, trying to pull you away from him. “I won’t be able to last long if you keep– Ah, fuck me,” he groans, feeling you take him whole. The tip of his length hits the back of your throat and he hears you gag quietly against him.

You then pull away from him, smiling up in his direction. Your hand slowly strokes the base of his manhood, lips brushing against his swollen tip.

“Alright, baby,” Hugh groans, gently lifting you to your feet. He brings you to stand in front of the mirror above the sink as he moves behind you. You rest your hands on the edge of the sink as Hugh kicks your legs apart and roughly tugs your leggings and panties down your legs. Gently, he rests a hand on your lower back and sees your slickened sex. He lines himself up at your opening and slowly thrusts inside, your walls warm and tight encompassing him inch and by inch.

You try to hold back your moan, trying to remain quiet as your hands grip the edge of the sink tightly. Hugh grips your hips, pulling you back onto him as he groans to himself. You always feel so good around him; he doesn’t think he’d ever get tired of this, of you.

When he fills you to the hilt, Hugh gently pulls you to stand upright against him. He brings his arm around your waist, hand sliding up your abdomen as he reaches up to grip your breast into the pit of his palm.

“Hugh,” you moan, biting your lower lip to keep the noise down. Hugh makes it difficult, his hips snapping against yours from behind followed by his hand kneading your breast. It’s a mixture of sensations and his free hand comes down between your legs, fingers finding your bundle of nerves.

“Hugh, oh god, I–” he delivers a sharp thrust, which elicits a loud moan to leave your lips. He smirks to himself, hand moving from your breast to cover your mouth. Hugh’s lips hover near your ear, grunting quietly against you.

“Shh, baby,” he groans. “Don’t want anyone to hear us…”

“Fuck me,” you moan against his hand, gently biting down on him to keep yourself quiet.

“I am, baby,” Hugh growls, his thrusts becoming more erratic as his other hand quickens its movements on your clit, rubbing you in circles. He feels your body begin to tremble against him, your walls quivering around his length. He knows you’re close and so, he quickens the pace of his thrusts. While he was trying to keep you quiet, his movements make it very clear and very obvious what you’re both doing in the bathroom.

His skin slaps against yours and he can hear the loud squelching with each thrust. You’re so wet that it dampens the hair at his base. The sounds are so obscene that anyone in the gym can hear exactly what’s going on; he just hopes that Shawn and Ryan had left and no one was in the gym except for the both of you.

“Hugh!” you matter against his hand, moving your own to reach down to grip his forearm. You push back against him, feeling the tip of his manhood kiss your cervix. It’s enough to push you over the edge, your body shaking against him.

Hugh doesn’t last long as he usually does after you reach your orgasm because he delivers another couple of thrusts before he releases deep inside of you. He drops his hands to your hips, holding you flush against him as his eyes flutter closed. Hugh rests his forehead against the back of your shoulder, chest heaving as he pants heavily.

“God, I love you so much,” he whispers.

You smile, involuntarily squeezing your walls around him before you feel him pull out. You slowly turn in his arms and bring your hands to his cheeks, lightly pecking his lips. “I think I’m spent,” you laugh quietly.

“I’d say it was a good gym session, what do you think?” Hugh’s eyes lower down to your legs, seeing his release slowly drip down and out of you. He watches you reach down to gather his release on your fingertips, bringing it to your lips and sucking the remnants of it.

You grin up at him, eyes gazing into his. “Yummy.”

Hugh growls. “You’re naughty.”

“Only you can bring out this side of me,” you admit.

“Good,” Hugh smirks. “Only me.”

“We should head back to the hotel room and clean up,” you smile.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. But I’m not done with you yet, baby.”

—

Throughout the week, you continue to come to set with Hugh. Each night, you spend a good hour editing the pictures you’ve taken for the day. You find a good routine with your schedule, even going so far as to scheduling a few engagement photoshoots.

You continue to go to the gym with Hugh and most of the time, you’re both distracted by each other that it feels like neither of you get anything done.

And as the weeks go by, Hugh continues to take more and more pictures of you and the both of you together. The comments about the age gap still exist, but they lessen overtime when his fans see how happy Hugh is. You’ve also learned how to pay no attention to the comments either.

The love you have for Hugh only gets stronger as each day passes. Hugh takes every chance he gets to tell you that he loves you, that he’s crazy about you and you never have to wonder how he’s feeling about you, or about this relationship. Since you’ve been with him, you find that Hugh has shown you a love that you deserve, a relationship that’s healthy.

There’s a weeklong break that the cast and crew get before continuing to film and you take this time to spend as much uninterrupted time as you can with Hugh. Now that your relationship with him is out in the open, you no longer need to hide it and it feels so freeing to be able to hold his hand in public, kiss his cheek or give him a hug without worrying about getting caught.

You finally feel like things are falling into place, like you’re finally finding your way back to yourself.

Hugh’s in the shower when your phone rings. You reach for it and don’t bother to look at the contact number before answering.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Your heart drops and you pull the phone from your ear to see the contact number listed. It’s an unknown caller, which makes sense because you had originally blocked his number from your phone after the breakup.

“Jack, what are you–”

“I miss you,” he interrupts. “I see that you’ve moved on pretty quickly after our relationship. Are you happy?”

You stand up and move outside to the balcony, leaning against the railing as you fidget with your fingers. “You shouldn’t be calling me.”

“I shouldn’t have ended things,” he sighs from the other end of the call. “I’ve done a lot of thinking and–”

“No,” you interrupt. “You don’t get to come back into my life and say all these things.” You’re so focused on the call that you don’t hear Hugh step out with you.

He can see how tense you are, how your body is beginning to tremble with unshed tears. You’re beginning to fidget and pace back and forth, so he reaches out gently to rest a hand on your lower back. When you turn around to face him, he notices the look and expression you have. You’re visibly upset, tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks, and your breathing picks up.

“Who is it?” he mouths.

“Don’t call me again,” you say to the person on the other end. “I mean it.”

Ending the call, you toss your phone onto the small table and immediately wrap your arms around Hugh. Once you feel his strong arms envelope you, you begin to cry silently into his chest. He rubs your back, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Baby, what’s going on?” Hugh whispers.

You shake your head, just wanting to hold onto him and forget the conversation you just had with your ex-boyfriend. The same ex-boyfriend who you had a toxic relationship with. The same ex-boyfriend who you had given up everything for and didn’t get anything in return.

“Jack– He–” you pull back, hiccuping in between sobs. “He called me and–”

Hugh’s brows lift upwards as he reaches up to wipe your tears away. “What– What did he say?”

You can’t even bring yourself up to say it. Instead, you just shake your head and look up at him. “Can we stay in today? I’m sorry. I know that we had plans…”

“Whatever you want, baby,” Hugh interrupts. “Come on.” He brings you back inside the room and lies down on the bed, pulling you immediately into his arms. “Whenever you’re ready, we can talk about it. I’m here to listen.”

“I told him that I’m happy with you, that I’m in love and–” you bite your lower lip, clutching Hugh so tightly that you’re afraid to let go. “He just said some hurtful things and maybe– Maybe it’s true, but I just…”

Hugh tightens his jaw. He feels frustrated and angry for you, that this man still had the audacity to come back into your life and treat you the way he does. He reaches down and cups your cheek, gently pecking your lips. “Hey,” he whispers. “They’re not true. Whatever he said, they aren’t true.”

“He’s here,” you blurt out. “Maybe I should go back home. Back to New York, and–”

“No.” Hugh interjects. “You’re staying right here with me. With Shawn, with Ryan.”

“But–”

“No,” Hugh repeats. “I’m not going to let this man think he has this much control over you, d’ya hear me, baby?”

“Hugh–”

Hugh shakes his head. “He doesn’t get to hurt you again. I’m not gonna let him. You’re with me, baby.”

You don’t respond, your mind already drifting to the things that Jack said. You hate that he has so much authority over you, how one simple conversation can flip a switch in you. You look up at Hugh, taking note of the seriousness in his features, the concern in his eyes. You love him so much, you truly do, but maybe Jack’s right. Maybe Hugh does deserve better than you would ever be able to give him.

---

taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1

@wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf

@needz1nk - @fandomxo00 - @godlypresley - @kythefangirl25 - @callsignyourmom

@sue8724 - @squishyfruitloop - @sylviavf - @emotrash1 - @dissentientss

@sir-thisisadndserver - @absolutepie - @millajay - @itsallyscorner - @haytchee

@wolverigrl - @its-in-the-woods - @d3ad2you - @definitely-not-chill

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman fiction #real person fiction #rpf #real person fanfic #real person fanfiction #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x fem!reader #hugh jackman x f!reader #hugh jackman x female reader #hugh jackman x you #story: training partners

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bethanythebogwitch · 21 days ago

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Wet Beast Wednesday: abalone

This is a Wet Beast Wednesday post, but it would also be applicable for Mollusk Monday and maybe even Flat Fuck Friday. Today I'll be introducing you to the abalone. The squat snails have some strange features that set them apart from their fellows in the shell squad. Unfortunately, over harvesting of abalone for their meat and shells have put many abalone species in danger.

(Image: an abalone attached to a rock. It is a snail with a large, broad, and flat brown shell. A muscular foot attaches the animal to the rock. Around the body is a membrane covered in tentacles that reach out around the body. End ID)

Abalone are marine snails of the genus Haliotis (not to be confused with halitosis) that can range in shell diameter from 20 mm (0.8 in) to 300 mm (12 in). The number of species is a matter of some debate. There's a lot of variation in morphology within species which led to many species being incorrectly classified as multiple species. The most accepted number appears to be 56 species and 18 subspecies. Abalone shells are highly flattened and the spiral can be hard to see, making them look like large limpets. They have no operculum and cannot withdraw into their shells like other snails can. Instead, when threatened they suction as hard as possible to an object. The shells have holes in them on one side which are used for respiration, waste disposal, and release of gametes. As abalone grow, the number of holes will change with some being filled in and new ones forming. The interior of the shell is covered in nacre. This substance, also called mother-of-pearl is valuable for its polished, iridescent appearance. Abalone use the nacre to make claw-shaped pearls. The shell is composed of microscopic bricks of calcium carbonate glued together by a protein structure. When pressure is applied to the structure, the bricks slide against each other and the protein glue stretches. This helps absorb the energy of blows and makes the shells very resistant to cracking. The shell structure of abalone has been studied to make sturdier body armor and ceramics.

(Image: an empty and polished abalone shell, seen from below. The shell is lined with shiny and iridescent nacre. The nacre color varies with species, but in this case is blue-green. A line of holes are on one side of the shell. End ID)

The majority of the shell's interior is filled with the muscular foot, which the abalone uses for locomotion. The foot is attached to the shell in the center. Around the edge of the foot is a structure called the epipodium. This is a frilled membrane lined with sensory tentacles. When an abalone is relaxed, it will extend the tentacles to examine its surrounding. When threatened, the tentacles retract for safety. Along the edge of the shell is the mantle, which produced the material for the shell. Abalone will grow larger throughout their lives, with the mantle continuously making new shell. At the front is the head, which has sensory tentacles and a mouth that contains a pair of oral tentacles use for finding food and the radula. The radula is a tongue-like structure lines with sharp teeth. The teeth scrape algae off of rocks and into the mouth. The teeth are arranged in rows that move forward like a conveyor belt, allowing worn out teeth to fall out and be replaced by fresh ones. The head is near the newest-formed hole and the anus is next to the rearmost hole.

(Image: an abalone seen from below, with the foor removed and anatomy labeled. The organs circle around a central muscle that the foot attaches to. A small head is in the front while the epipodium rings the body. Source. End ID)

(Image: an abalone's radula, removed and next to a pencil for scale. It is a long, thin structure lined with rows of tiny teeth. The front end is stained brown with algae. End ID)

Abalone live on coasts worldwide, with the exception of the North American Atlantic coast, South American Pacific Coast, and the poles. Most species live in cold water, but tropical species are known. They spend their times feeding on algae. Abalone shells are usually covered with life, including algae and sessile animals like tunicates, sponges, and tube worms. The hitchhikers combined with the upper shell's dull appearances serves as effective camouflage. During mating season, males and females release gametes into the water. The number of eggs a female can produce increases with size and can be up to 11 million per season. The larvae start out in a swimming form before metamorphosing into non-swimming juveniles called spat. Abalone reach sexual maturity young and at a small size.

(Iamge: dozens of abalone spat in a tank. They are miniature versions of the adults, but have nacre on the outside of the shell as well, giving them a shiny turquoise color. End ID)

Abalone have been hunted by huamns for millennia, with the oldest evidence of use being a 100,000 year old "workshop" found in Blombos Cave, South Africa, where abalone shells were used as storage for ochre mixtures. Throughout their native ranges, abalone have been harvested for their meat, nacre, and pearls. The shells are often used for jewelry, as decorative inlay, and, in some cultures, as currency. The foot is edible and considered a delicacy in some cultures and a staple in others. The value of abalone has led to worldwide overfishing, resulting in many species being endangered. Captive farming has become a major industry in many places to meet the abalone demands. Farming began in China and Japan in the 1950s and 60s and the majority of abalone farms are still in east Asia. Because of overfishing, the majority of the world's abalone supply now comes from farms. Sport fishing is legal in many parts of the world, with 25% of the wild harvest coming from Tasmania. Many places require permits and have catch limits, but poaching remains a major industry. Collection of abalone is usually done with a blunt scoop called an abalone iron that can pop the animal off of rocks. It has to be blunt because abalone blood does not clot and any cut will lead to the animal bleeding to death. Overharvesting and increasing ocean acidification are the largest threats to abalone. Places where abalone are reintroduced to the wild have seen increased biodiversity and environmental health.

(Image: a carving made by the Haida people of British Columbia, Canada. It reselbles a face with a tall hat or head with a small body carved on it. Abalone shells are used for inlay,, cut into rectangles with the nacre facing out. End ID)

#wet beast wednesday #abalone #snail #snails #sea snail #mollusk #molluscs #marine biology #marine life #biology #ecology #zoology #animal facts #informative #educational #image described

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munson-blurbs · 1 year ago

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

Summary: A trip to the thrift store becomes overwhelming for Harris, and you and Eddie have to work as a team. But the real test of your relationship's strength is the crisis that unfolds days later.

Warnings: financial insecurity, school lock-in, missing child, police presence, mention of kidnapping, mention of drug addiction, blood (no gore)

WC: 8.5k

Chapter 19/20

Divider credit to @saradika

Eddie has already been awake for two hours when the phone rings. One part of parenthood that he hadn’t anticipated is that children do not understand the concept of weekends. Harris had flung himself out of his racecar bed promptly at 6:30 in the morning, crawling under Eddie’s sheets and poking his nose until he woke up.

“Har, go back to sleep,” Eddie had grumbled, the last word extended in a whine. One cheek was smushed against his pillow, muffling his complaint. “It’s Saturday; you don’t have school.”

In response, Harris pursed his lips into a perfect pout and used his thumb to peel Eddie’s eyelid open, getting as close to his face as possible. His morning breath was tinged with the scent of chocolate; Eddie groggily made a mental note to better supervise his nighttime teeth brushing routine.

“‘M hungry.”

That’s how Eddie finds himself pouring his third cup of coffee while his son keeps his eyes glued to the TV screen, watching Doug stutter and stammer in front of Patti. Eddie smiles, a blush creeping into his cheeks when he realizes that that’s probably what he looks like around you.

“‘Lo?” He cradles the receiver between his ear and his shoulder, wincing as he clumsily clinks the carafe into place. There isn’t enough coffee left to slosh over the side, a small miracle in and of itself, although he’ll have to brew some more if the caffeine doesn’t kick in soon.

“Hey, baby.” Your voice is sleepy yet sweet, smoothing all the creases of the morning. “Did I wake you up?”

Eddie laughs and takes a sip from his favorite mug, the one that proudly declares #1 Dad. It’s stained and chipped, but he’ll never throw it out. Wayne had bought it for him on his very first Father’s Day; ironically, Eddie had bought him a #1 Grandpa mug that year, probably from the same kiosk at the mall.

“Not even close,” he says, tongue flicking to the corner of his lip to catch the drip of coffee that’s pooled in the crevice. “Someone was up bright and early this morning.” His gaze flits over to the bowl of Cheerios snug between Harris’s criss-crossed legs, mostly uneaten despite his earlier protests that would make an outsider believe he was starving. “How was your sleep?” he asks, swinging back to your conversation.

You switch the phone from one ear to the other. “It was good. Would’ve been better if you were next to me, though,” you add, twirling the cord around your forefinger. If you could, you would capture the safety of his embrace and bottle it, releasing a bit each time you craved his gentle touch. “I might’ve even let you be the little spoon.”

He balks at this with a playful scoff, nearly spilling his coffee with the sudden movement. “Yeah, right,” he chuckles, licking the side of the mug before the bitter liquid can slide off and hit the ground. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Admittedly, his skepticism is rooted in truth; whenever you do get the chance to cuddle in bed, he’s always the one wrapping his arm around your waist, often taking the opportunity to snake a hand up your shirt and let the pads of his fingers brush over your breasts. It isn’t always a display of sexuality or desire–though you can’t say you mind that–but a connection, a way of ensuring that you stay close.

“Just a few more weeks until we get to find out for ourselves,” you tease, though he needs no reminding. Only sixteen days remain until you officially move in together, and he’s not ashamed to admit that he’s counting down. “Speaking of which,” you continue, glancing at the clock, “I was wondering if you and Harris wanted to do some furniture shopping for his new room.” You knew that he would be keeping his racecar bed; it’s unlikely he’ll part with it until he’s outgrown it completely. “Y’know, a new dresser or nightstand or something.”

There’s an extended pause on Eddie’s side of the line. You think the call dropped and are about to hang up and redial when you hear him say, “I, um…I don’t get paid until next week…” He nervously scratches the countertop with one fingernail.

“Oh.” You grapple with a response, trying to strike a balance of empathy without condescension. “Well, I was going to surprise you, but I sold some of Grandma’s old—”

“No way,” Eddie interjects, firmly but not harshly. “I’m not having you spend your money on me. We can just wait until payday.”

“I want to buy this for Harris. I…I probably should have cleared out Grandma’s room months ago, but I couldn’t. I mean, I could, but it felt wrong because I had nothing to put in its place.” You don’t care that you’re babbling on, forging ahead with your impromptu monologue. “It would’ve been too empty, but with you and Harris here, it won’t be empty anymore.”

Eddie tucks his thumbnail between his teeth. “Are you sure?” he prods, not wanting to sound ungrateful.

“Positive.” You’re much more assured in your reply. “If she knew Harris before she got sick, she would’ve spoiled the hell out of him, anyway.” The moment she saw him happily digging into the Oreos, she would have ensured that the cupboard remained stocked with Double Stuf. “In a way, s’like she gets to spoil him now.”

You can sense Eddie’s resistance tempering with an audible exhale. “He’s an easy kid to love, that’s for sure,” he muses, buying time to process the influx of emotions flooding his body. There’s the obvious gratitude that you’re so eager to take care of his son, but it’s cut with the insecurity of him not being able to do so. If you’re going to buy Harris furniture, it should be because you want to, not because he can’t. What if you hold this against him? What if, in the future, there’s an argument and you fire back with a retort about his shortcomings as a father?

Except…you have never done that. Ever. Not that night in the emergency room, or when you’d found out about the CPS report filed that evening. Not even when Eddie had made it his personal mission to tear you down, pulling insults from the depths and hurling them at you with reckless abandon.

You hadn’t brought up the way he’d helplessly panicked when confronted with the possibility of Harris’s learning disability, or how he’d let anxiety overtake him when he officially received a classification. With everything the two of you had endured, you’d never once echoed his anxieties about his parenting abilities; it was quite the opposite. With you by his side, he feels as though he can take on whatever challenge life chucks at him.

“Eds? Is everything okay?” Your tone is thick with concern; Eddie realizes that you probably think you’ve upset him. “We don’t have to go—we can do something else, or��”

“Sweet girl,” he says in one exhale, both to reassure you and to remind himself that you’re his, and he’s yours. Love surges through the phone lines when he speaks. “We can pick you up in an hour, if that works? I should be able to wrangle Harris by then.”

“Y’sure?” And, Christ, how his heart sinks when you shrink inward, reflexively making yourself smaller when you’re worried that you’ve offended someone.

Eddie doesn’t answer you directly, instead, calls out his son’s name. “Hey, Harris?” He frowns when Harris completely ignores him in favor of watching the cartoon. Using his free hand, he cups his mouth in a makeshift megaphone, amplifying his voice. “Harris Wayne Munson!”

The sudden sound jolts him out of his TV-induced stupor. “Huh?”

“Go get dressed and brush your teeth; we’re gonna go shopping with Ms. Sweetheart!” Eddie grins as Harris turns to him with a wide smile of his own. “C’mon, let’s go!”

Harris jumps up without further hesitation, inadvertently tossing his bowl from the makeshift table of his legs. Milk splatters, instantly soaking into the carpet, and the Cheerios topple out and land in a soggy pile. “Nooo, my bref-ist!” His big eyes well up with tears. “Daddy, you made me drop my bref-ist!”

“You, uh, wanna deal with that?” You can’t hide your amusement at the usual Munson chaos.

“Probably should, huh?” Eddie jokes back, stretching the phone cord as far as he can and reaching for the paper towel roll. “I love you, babe. See you in a bit.”

“I love you, Eds,” you tell him. “And Harris, too, of course.”

Some more static and shuffling; then, an energetic voice greets you. “Hi Ms. Sweetheart! Daddy made me drop my bref-ist,” the little boy reports.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Har.” You’ve perfected the art of mustering up sympathy for children’s not-soearth-shattering issues, a skill that every preschool teacher must possess. “Why don’t you help him clean up? That way, I can see you even faster.”

Harris pauses, mulling over his options. “Yeah, okay! Gotta go! Bye!”

You hear the clunk of him struggling to replace the phone on the hook, followed by Eddie saying, “Let me say good-bye before you hang—” click.

Pulling your own receiver from your ear, you stare at it with mild amusement. Never a dull moment with my boys.

Your boys drive up to your building just over an hour later. You stand up from the bench outside the entrance and smooth down your shorts where they’ve creased.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” Eddie lets the pet name roll off of his tongue. He wants to kiss you as you slide into the passenger seat, but he withholds his affection for Harris’s sake. It seems silly, considering you’ll all be living together, but he doesn’t know how his son will react to the romance aspect of it. Will he be happy? Excited? Disgusted by any display of affection?

You give his hand a subtle squeeze, turning around to greet Harris. “Ready to shop till we drop?”

“Till we drop?” Harris wrinkles his nose, glancing between you and his dad. “Why would we drop?”

“It’s just an expression,” you explain, catching a glimpse of the smile tugging at the corners of Eddie’s mouth. “Just means that we’re going to shop until we’re too tired to shop anymore.”

“I never get tired,” Harris declares, sticking his legs straight out so his flexed feet push up against the back of the driver’s seat, nudging Eddie slightly forward. “Grampa Wayne calls me an ‘Energizer Bunny.’” He bounces up and down in his booster seat to prove his point.

Eddie reaches his right arm around, keeping his left firmly gripping the wheel, as he moves Harris’s feet from where they’re planted into his lower back. “So, Har,” he starts, easing his weight onto the brake as he approaches a red light, “we’re gonna look for a new dresser for you, and maybe a nightstand.” He takes a deep breath as he delivers the news: “That means we’re not making any pit stops for toys. Got it?”

You want to interject, to let Eddie know that you don’t mind splurging on a small treat for Harris, but you bite it back. Whether or not you have the spare funds is irrelevant: this is the boundary he’s set for his son, and you have to respect it, regardless of your desire to spoil him.

Harris, however, does not accept the announcement as readily. “Not even, like, a little one?” he presses, holding his thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart. “Even if I’m really, really good?” He gives a hopeful smile, eyes blinking expectantly.

Eddie looks at you, serving as your cue to provide your input. You nod your approval, trying to hide your delight in being asked to make a parenting decision, regardless of how menial it may seem. He peers up through the rearview mirror at his son’s waiting face. “If you’re really, really good,” he acquiesces, features pinching into a grimace when Harris’s exuberant squeal echoes through the sedan. “You have to use your inside voice and stay next to us the whole time. Deal?”

“Deal,” Harris confirms. “Deal, Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Deal.” Laughter bubbles up inside you and you let it spill out uninhibited. You know that telling a child he can get a toy is an easy part of parenthood, but you silently swear to never take for granted being included in that choice. Harris joins you, though he’s not quite sure why he’s laughing, but your joy is contagious.

You lean your head against the car window, listening to the buzz of the radio filling the silence. Harris hums along, more on-key than the average five-year-old, which you can safely attribute to him having a musician for a dad.

“I’m not getting a new bed, right?” Harris says with sudden urgency. “Because I wanna keep my racecar bed.”

“Mhm,” you affirm, smiling when Harris relaxes back against the headrest. “Your racecar bed will be in your new room, don’t you worry.”

“Okay.” That response satisfies him until he thinks up another question. “An’ you’re bringing your bed, Daddy?”

Eddie chuckles as he pulls into the Goodwill parking lot. He picks a spot close to the store, right next to a green Ford with a faded “Clinton ‘96” bumper sticker. “Um, no. I’m not bringing my bed.”

“So are you getting a new bed?” His eyes dart from side to side as he assesses the size of the car. “Where’s it gonna fit?”

“I’m, uh, not buying a new bed, either.” Eddie kills the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt, swiveling to face Harris, who is more confused than ever. “Ms. Sweetheart and I are going to share her bed.”

Harris kicks his feet, processing this new information. “But you didn’t get married yet,” he points out, “so how can you share a bed?”

You rest your palm on Eddie’s forearm in quiet reassurance. “Some people share a bed before they get married,” you explain simply, knowing that less is often more when talking to young children.

“When are you gonna get married?” he asks, more curious than meddling. “Because it’s taking forever. My friends’ mommies and daddies are already married.”

Eddie doesn’t acknowledge the fact that Harris essentially referred to you as his mommy; instead, he slowly exhales. “I’d like to marry Ms. Sweetheart someday, and I think she’d like to marry me, too.” He looks over at you with a sheepish grin, and you give his hand an agreeing squeeze. “But, for now, we’re just going to try out living together. How does that sound?”

“I guess that’s okay.” Harris isn’t completely thrilled with his dad’s response, but he relents anyway.

“While, we’re, uh, on the subject,” Eddie continues, the tips of his ears flushing pink as he carefully considers his words. He chews on the inside of his lower lip. Is he really doing this? Is he opening his son up to this relationship? “You know that Ms. Sweetheart and I love each other very much, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Sometimes,” Eddie continues with only some trepidation, “sometimes, when grown-ups love each other a lot, they hold hands o-or kiss. Would that be weird for you? If Ms. Sweetheart and I held hands, or kissed?”

You avert your gaze, partly from bashfulness but mostly so Harris doesn’t feel any pressure from either of you.

The little boy looks at the car’s ceiling, centering his focus on the overhead lighting. Finally, with utmost certainty, he declares, “just no tongue-kissing.”

You snort out a laugh while Eddie goes bright red and sputters, “where did you learn about that?”

“Young and Restless,” Harris reports nonchalantly.

Eddie rubs his eyes, pressing his thumb and forefinger to his lids until his vision blurs. “Remind me to tell Wayne to stop letting him watch the soaps,” he grumbles to you, turning back to his son. “Yeah, no tongue-kissing.”

You easily lace your fingers with Eddie’s as you walk through the front doors of the Goodwill. Harris starts making a beeline for the toys, but Eddie uses his free hand to pivot him in the direction of the furniture department. Harris huffs but complies, trudging alongside you.

There’s a bright blue nightstand on display that immediately catches his eye. “Look!” he points, smiling so wide that all of his baby teeth are on display, “can I get it? Please?”

Eddie smiles warily, flipping over the white tag hanging from one silver drawer handle. He breathes a small sigh of relief when he sees the price is within the range of what he’d like to spend; rather, what he’d be comfortable asking you to spend.

“Looks like we’ve got a winner,” he says, posture straightening with the announcement. He runs his fingertips over the surface, checking for any chipping paint or splintering wood, but the finish appears to be intact. “I’ll go tell someone to set it aside for us.”

He sets off in search of an employee, leaving you alone with Harris. You swallow the nervousness building in your throat. You spend nearly every day taking care of children, but you’re suddenly inundated with the memory of losing him at the flea market. Those few minutes when you couldn’t locate him were some of the scariest of your life.

And yet, it hadn’t prevented Eddie from giving you another chance.

“Are you excited to move in with me, Har?” you ask, reaching out to ruffle his curls.

He nods, then looks straight up at you so that you’re staring at his nostrils. “Ms. Sweetheart?” The position of his neck changes his voice’s pitch so it’s froggy. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Can you marry my daddy?” His eyes shine with potential. “And then you can be my mommy for real?”

You crouch down to his height, heart melting at his request. “Harris, I love your daddy very, very much. And I love you very, very much, too.” You poke his nose gently, and he giggles. “Being married is a big responsibility—”

“‘Sponsibility?”

“Mhm. Responsibility. It means a really important job.” You slide your heart pendant across the chain on your neck anxiously. “And your daddy and I want to make sure that we’re ready for that kind of responsibility before we do anything, okay?”

Harris nods, but you can tell from his crinkled nose and furrowed brows that he doesn’t fully understand. You can’t blame him; it’s an abstract concept, one that even you often have trouble comprehending. “But I can tell you one thing: whenever your daddy wants to propose, I’ll say ‘yes.’” You smile at the thought of Eddie asking you to be his wife.

“Is that where he gets down on one knee and asks ‘Will you marry me?’” You’re about to respond when he adds, “and then someone runs in and yells about being their long-lost ‘dentical twin?”

Yeah, no more soap operas for Harris.

Finding a dresser proves to be a much more difficult task than picking out the nightstand. Everything that Harris likes is out of budget, and everything within budget is too worn down or small. There’s one that’s in good condition and isn’t too pricey, but it’s covered in hand-painted unicorns.

“That’s for girls!” Harris groans, stomping his feet. The last word is stretched in a whine. “I can’t have girl stuff!”

“We can paint over it. Whatever color you want,” you quickly jump in, trying to avoid a meltdown, but your efforts are fruitless. Fat tears stream down his cheeks; he’s already determined that the dresser is tainted.

“No! No, no, no!” he howls, throwing himself on the floor. He smacks down on his tailbone, fanning his tantrum’s flames. He quiets for a moment, too shocked to cry, but then he’s screaming louder than before.

It’s as though he’s lost control of his body, arms and legs knocking into the lower shelves without care. You can’t block him in time before he knocks over a lamp—a Nickelodeon-themed one that would have been perfect in his new room, ironically—and it shatters on the ground. Ceramic splinters, scattering across the linoleum like roaches in the light.

People start to stare, some with sympathetic looks, and some glare angrily at the child daring to interrupt their shopping. Eddie’s face blazes, vision swimming as he wracks his brain for a solution.

You’re faster, slapping a few bills into Eddie’s palm and jolting him from his thoughts. He watches you scoop Harris off of the floor, trying to avoid his flailing limbs.

“Go get the nightstand and pay for the lamp,” you tell him, straightforward and precise. “I’ll get him to the car and calm him down. Keys?”

Eddie blinks, the information swirling around him but not quite penetrating the surface. It’s when you hoist Harris onto one hip and balance his weight in one hand, using the other to make a ‘gimme’ motion that it registers.

“Y-Yeah, sorry.” Eddie fumbles for the car keys and tosses them to you, the two of you working in tandem. A well-oiled machine. You nod gratefully, wincing as Harris’s foot makes contact with your thigh. “I’ll be right out.”

You’re able to bring him to the car, struggling to unlock it and hold on to Harris. After a few failed attempts, you manage to open the passenger door and sit him on the seat.

“Harris, hey, Harris?” you start, keeping your voice soft and even while trying to pull his attention. His sobs are slowing down but he’s definitely breathing too rapidly for your comfort. “Hey, bud. You’re okay, all right?” You extend your hand and he tentatively places his own palm on top of it. “You wanna give my hand a squeeze?”

He does it, the motion grounding him enough that he can focus on your body in front of him. You don’t want to touch him, knowing that his senses are already overstimulated from the tantrum. Instead, you relax as his squeezing grows stronger and his breaths gradually even out.

“There ya go, Har. Just like that.” You smile warmly. “That was a really big feeling, huh?”

“Uh-huh.” His voice shakes and hiccups. He swipes at the tears on his cheeks, smudging them into his skin.

You reach into the center console and grab a tissue, wiping the mucus from his nose and lips. “Good as new.” With no trashcan nearby, you shove the used Kleenex into your pants pocket. “Can you tell me what made you so mad in there?”

“D-Don’t want girl…girl st-stuff,” he stutters through ragged breaths.

There’s a time and place to discuss the optics of categorizing interests into ‘boy’ and ‘girl,’ but you know better than to have that conversation now. “Oof, that’s why you were angry! That’s a lot to handle.” You gingerly tuck a curl behind his ear. “But, Harris, did you see what happened when you started hitting and kicking?” He shakes his head. “Well, you knocked over a lamp and it broke. You could have gotten hurt, or someone else could have gotten hurt.”

Harris’s face falls as you speak, absorbing what you’re explaining. “I-I didn’t mean to,” he sniffles. “‘M sorry.”

“I know you didn’t mean to,” you sigh, “sometimes, when we have big feelings like getting angry, we do things we shouldn’t without even realizing.” You pause for a moment, biting your lip as you consider your words. “Do you want to hear what helps me when I have really big feelings and I can’t scream and cry?”

“Mhm.” He nods again, little tongue peeking out to swipe up the tears above his mouth.

“I take a deep breath and close my eyes,” you start, demonstrating both actions. Inhale for three, exhale for three, and repeat. “And then I picture myself being in my favorite place in the world.” You smile at him, blinking back the sadness that comes with memories of holidays at Grandma’s. “Wanna try it together?”

Harris responds by closing his eyes and breathing in slowly. “Good job, Har,” you softly praise him. “Now breathe out; make sure you’re thinking of your favorite place, okay?”

“Thinkin’ about the zoo,” he whispers, voice raspy from shrieking for so long. “Daddy taked me there and we saw so much animals.”

“Zoos are a lot of fun,” you agree with a laugh. “I’ve never been to the one in Hawkins. Maybe we can go over the summer?”

“Yeah! I wanna show you the flamingos!” His grin stretches across his cheeks “Do you like flamingos?”

Like most people, you don’t have a strong opinion on flamingos, but you respond with an enthusiastic, “I love them!”

“Love who?” Eddie’s voice breaks into the conversation. He’s rolling out the nightstand in a cart, keeping one hand on top of it to hold it steady. “Me?”

You laugh, opening up the back door so he can wedge the furniture next to Harris’s booster seat. “Yes, Eddie. I love you very much, don’t worry,” you tease, seizing the opportunity to inconspicuously check him out. His biceps flex as he maneuvers the nightstand, and you have to tear your gaze from his denim-clad ass when he stands up and triumphantly wipes his hands on his pants.

“C’mere.” He pulls you in, pursing his lips in an exaggerated pout and planting a smacking kiss on you.

While you giggle, Harris is not as amused. He claps his hands over his eyes and groans.

“No tongue-kissing!”

You’re wrapping up storytime, your students fidgeting with their shoelaces—some fidgeting with their friend’s shoelaces—eager to move onto the corresponding art activity Will has planned.

“Okay, we’re going to use our walking—” Your announcement is cut short by Principal Sinclair’s voice coming over the loudspeaker. Her tone is typically warm and excited, but the way she speaks so sternly sends chills through your entire body.

“This is a lock-in. All staff and students must remain in their classrooms until notified. I repeat, all staff and students must remain in their classrooms until notified.”

You breathe out, though you’re still concerned about the cause of the lock-in. It’s usually some kind of medical issue that requires emergency services to have unblocked access through the halls. You hope that whatever it is isn’t life-threatening.

Will locks the door wordlessly, and you repeat your directions to the class. The kids walk to their seats, asking non-stop about what a lock-in means.

“We just have to stay in the classroom,” you find yourself repeating, losing patience with each iteration. You’re thankful for small miracles; your class has already gone out for recess, which means you don’t have to break that news to them.

Will is helping the kids glue multicolored strands of crepe paper in the shape of a rainbow, complete with cotton ball clouds. You’re unclogging a bottle of Elmer’s when the classroom phone rings, startling you. You place the glue bottle on the table, promising Joshua that you’ll be right back, and answer it.

“Hello?”

“We need you to come to the office immediately,” the secretary’s clipped voice informs you. “Bring your personal items. We’ll send someone to assist Will.”

Stupidly, you nod before remembering she can’t see you. “Y-Yes, of course. I’ll be right there.” You hang up, tell Will the plan, and bolt out the door.

What the hell is going on? Why are they having me break the lock-in to go to the office? You hike your purse higher up your shoulder, trying to ignore the dread pooling in your stomach and creeping up your throat.

Something is wrong. Something is really, really wrong.

Your feet can’t carry you fast enough. You nearly stop breathing when you see Eddie pacing in the lobby, Marion and Paula standing off to the side and speaking with Chief Hopper. The two teachers wear matching worried expressions.

As soon as Eddie spots you, he’s charging over. “Oh, thank God,” he murmurs, throwing his arms around you and hugging you tight. You can feel the tears falling from his eyes, wetting the crook of your neck. His hands squeeze against your back and your shoulder blades as his body is wracked with sobs.

You weave your fingers through his hair, holding him as close as you can. You’re desperate to know what’s going on, but you doubt he could explain if he tried. Instead, you continue comforting him while Principal Sinclair walks over.

Her strides are long and purposeful, and she meets your own terrified gaze with her own. “Harris went missing during recess,” she says quietly, “and Mr. Munson let us know that you might be an asset in locating him.”

Harris went missing. Bile inches up your esophagus and you swallow it, wincing at its burn. “Why would he—” You stop mid-sentence; his motive is not important right now. All of your focus needs to be on finding him.

Chief Hopper approaches you and Eddie, tapping your boyfriend on the shoulder with two fingers. Eddie looks up, wipes his face with the heel of his palm, and clears his throat, but a fresh batch of tears threatens to spill over anyway.

“We’ve just collected statements from his teachers,” Hopper reports, looking down at his notepad. “They said that nothing seemed out of the ordinary, that Harris was just playing with his friends one moment and then gone the next.”

“No,” Eddie shakes his head. “No, something had to have happened.” Harris had wandered off plenty of times, like at the flea market. The difference was that he was easily found. “If you haven’t found him, then he’s either hiding, or someone…” The thought is too painful to finish.

Hopper looks over at the principal. “You’re certain that the playground is secure?” He asks her, not accusing, but waiting for confirmation.

“Yes, absolutely secure,” she affirms, nodding her head. “The gate can only be opened from the inside, so no one can access it off of the street.”

You know this, of course, but it doesn't bring you closer to finding Harris.

“We’ve taped off the playground,” Hopper continues, “and we’ve got a search squad going now. Considering that Harris has been diagnosed with a disability, we’re beginning this investigation right away.”

“Mr. Munson,” a second officer chimes in, “is there anyone who would be inclined to take your son? Perhaps a non-custodial parent or an estranged relative?”

Eddie’s blood runs cold. “His mom, um, isn’t in the picture. Never has been.”

Hopper cocks one brow. “Never?” he asks disbelievingly. “How soon after he was born did she relinquish her rights?”

“She, um,” Eddie swallows, rubbing his nose in embarrassment, “she never did. Never relinquished her rights, I mean. She just kinda split.”

“So there was no formal agreement that she could no longer be involved in Harris’s life?”

“N-No,” he stammers, shame seeping from every pore. He’d always meant to start the legal proceedings, but that takes time and money…and maybe a small part of him had always hoped she’d come around and do the right thing.

He looks over at you now, the way you’ve stepped into a mothering role like a puzzle piece. Like any parent, you’d made some mistakes, but you’re also the most compassionate person Eddie has ever known.

He thinks of the times he’d tried to make his ex get clean, to want to get clean, and to be there for Harris. The weight of disappointment caused his chest to ache every time she’d mumble, “I’m gonna, but not right now” or “I don’t need help.”

Perhaps it’s unfair to compare the two of you; after all, you hadn’t struggled with addiction. But Eddie can’t help himself. You’d loved Harris before you’d even loved him, he realizes. And he’d never had to ask you to.

“Do you have any contact information for her?” Hopper taps his pen against his notepad. “Nine out of ten times in these situations, the child is with someone they know.”

What about the ‘one’ time? What happens then? Heat pulses in Eddie’s cheeks, sweat beading on his forehead. He doesn’t need Hopper to answer the question; he already knows what that means.

“It’s from five years ago, so I don’t know if it’s still accurate.” He stumbles over his words, thinking about the last time he’d called her; it was the invitation to Harris’s birthday. “I don’t know it by heart, but I have it in my address book at home.”

Hopper gives a brusque nod to his colleague and to your boss. “We’ll give you a lift. And, uh, it’ll be good to set up your place as a home base.”

“Yeah, yeah, right,” Eddie mumbles, simply going through the motions without processing them. He’s on autopilot, a robotic version of himself. If he was able to fully absorb his surroundings, he would note the irony of him sitting in the back of the cop car because they’re helping him instead of escorting him to the county jail.

You don’t let go of his hand the entire ride there, your thumb rubbing the soft hairs on his knuckles. “We’re gonna find him,” you whisper reassuringly, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand.

But Eddie is too embroiled in his own thoughts, imagining every possible tragedy that could have befallen his son. As soon as Hopper pulls up to the apartment complex, Eddie is flying up the stairs, two at a time, unlocking the door as fast as he can. You run in behind him, watching as he flings loose papers and pens from a kitchen drawer. He’s kicked over the boxes he’s already packed; clothes and some of Harris’s toys are scattered across the floor like a poorly-designed booby-trap.

He holds up the tattered black book, flipping through it until he lands on the right page. “Here. Right here.” He frantically points to an entry at the top, fingertip jabbing into it over and over.

Hopper takes the book from him, careful not to rip the already weathered materials. He dials the digits and frowns when he’s greeted by the automated we’re sorry, this number is no longer in service, far too chipper for the circumstances. He tries once more in case he dialed incorrectly, but he gets the same message.

“Disconnected,” he says gruffly, hanging the receiver with a clank. “Is there anyone else?”

Eddie can only shake his head somberly. If Wayne got Harris from school early, he would have told him. He wasn’t even sure how much of Harris’s maternal family knew of his existence, let alone his location. If someone took his son, it was more than likely a complete stranger.

Hopper’s walkie crackles with static; you and Eddie stiffen with anticipation. “Hey, Chief?” comes from the garbled voice on the other end.

“I’m here.”

“We’ve got a kid here at the school who says he spoke with Harris Munson right before he went missing today.”

Eddie stands up, walking closer to Hopper. Part of you expects him to grab the walkie and try talking straight to the other officer, but he doesn’t.

Hopper presses the small black button and speaks. “Copy. Does he know where we might locate him?”

There’s a deafening silence for a few moments; no more than ten seconds pass, but it feels like a lifetime. Finally, there’s some information: “No known location; just says that Harris told him he was having ‘big feelings’ and needed to go to his favorite place.’”

“The zoo,” you murmur aloud, drawing confused looks from both men in the room. “When he got upset on Saturday—at Goodwill—I taught him to do some deep breathing and picture being in his favorite place, and he told me it was the zoo. But I…” you swallow, furrowing your brows, “I told him to picture it, not actually go there.”

“Zoo’s too far for him to walk, and no bus driver is going to let a kid that young ride by himself,” the chief points out.

You nod, biting your lower lip. “He might not be at the zoo, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t trying to get there.”

Hopper thanks the other officer and turns to you and Eddie. My guys are deploying the search party as we speak.” He takes a deep breath and makes direct eye contact with you and Eddie. “We’ll do everything we can to bring your son back safely.”

Eddie buries his head in his hands, collapsing back against the living room wall and sliding down to the floor.

You look over at the police chief. “Can we help? Join the search…or something?” Anything besides sitting around and waiting for answers.

“Absolutely. We’ll keep an officer stationed here in case Harris comes home.”

You nudge your foot against Eddie’s. “C’mon, babe.” You try to keep strength behind your words, to be what Eddie needs right now, but it gets harder with each passing second. “We’re gonna go look for him.” He looks up and notices that you’ve extended your hand, and he takes it, pulling himself up.

He doesn’t say a word, but he follows you and Hopper out the door. He’s gnawing on his lips so violently that some skin peels off between his teeth; flecks of blood dotting his usually perfect mouth.

“We’ve got some time before sunset, so that’s on our side,” Hopper says as he drives back the way he came. “We’ll start in the woods near the school, and we’ll move from there.” He peers back at the two of you through the rearview mirror with a determined gaze.

“My uncle,” Eddie says suddenly, no certain expression on his face. He’s practically catatonic when he talks. “I want Wayne to wait at the apartment. I need to tell him…” If Harris does return home first and sees police officers surrounding the place, he might get scared and run off again.

Hopper scratches at his beard. “We’ll let him know, all right? Don’t worry about that.” He radios the instructions to a colleague, who confirms them and signs off, before pulling into a grassy area and killing the engine. “Let’s go. If Harris is going to come out for anyone, it’ll be you two.” He slams his door and then helps you and Eddie out of the backseat.

Before you can even begin, you hear a group of people shouting Eddie’s name. You look over to see Jeff, Jess, and Robin waving and walking towards you.

“We came as soon as we heard,” Robin says, giving you and Eddie a hug. “We’re gonna help you, and we’re not leaving until we find him.”

Jeff offers a tight smile, one hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “We’re here for you man,” he promises, sincerity in its purest form. “Viv is gonna stop by later and I’ll take care of Ettie.”

It’s a kind gesture, but Eddie’s stomach sours at the thought of still searching later. He needs to know that his son is safe now.

Harris’s name is echoed over and over, bouncing off of trees and shaking the leaves as you and your friends call out for him.

“Harris!” you cry out, throat raw from your constant shouting. “Harris, it’s Ms. Sweetheart!”

“Harris!” Eddie’s voice is even louder than yours; the power behind it is palpable. “Harris, it’s Daddy! Please come out! You’re not in trouble!” he adds, cognizant of the little boy’s fear of making people mad.

Every squirrel that darts across the forest floor has you whipping your head around, heart leaping at the prospect of Harris emerging from where he’s hiding.

He has to be hiding; your mind won’t let you imagine what could happen if the wrong person saw him walking by himself, determined to get to the zoo…

“Harris, Aunt Robin and I will buy you any toy you want!” Jess yells. “And all the ice cream you can eat!”

The five of you take turns making promises to nobody; they’re secrets shared with the wind. Each unanswered call leaves you feeling more defeated, especially with the sun hanging lower in the sky. It will be dark soon, leaving Harris even more vulnerable than he already is.

Will joins the group a few moments later, bringing granola bars, water, and flashlights. You can only stomach about a quarter of your snack, having completely lost your appetite. Eddie doesn’t even bother to eat, fueled by adrenaline rather than food.

“Principal Sinclair is also looking,” Will tells you and Eddie. “She’s with Lucas and Erica over at Merrill Wright’s farm. It’s closer than the zoo, but he’s got some animals, so they wanted to check there.” He pauses, casting his eyes down for a second before looking at Eddie. “Everyone’s helping out with this. They all want to find Harris.”

Tears well up along Eddie’s lash line; he blinks them away to keep his vision clear. “Thanks, man.” He coughs to clear his throat, emotions forcing their way through. “That means a lot.” For a moment, he sees Will as he was when they first met: an overwhelmed little freshman, unsure of his place in high school, let alone in the world.

What if Harris never gets the chance to find himself? What if he doesn’t get to grow up and learn new things, make his own mistakes, figure out who he is?

You put an arm around Eddie, unknowingly pulling him from his intrusive thoughts. “Can you try to drink some water? Please?” You know better than to nag him about eating right now, but the last thing he needs is to get dehydrated.

He cracks open the bottle and takes a few sips, not realizing how thirsty he was until the liquid covers his tongue. He downs it all without taking a breath, the plastic crinkling as he siphons out every last drop of water.

“Take mine,” you tell him, offering it with the best smile you can possibly muster, but he shakes his head.

“You need it, too.” He’s not wrong, but you have no issue letting him drink from your bottle if he’s still thirsty.

You take a sip and pass it to him. “We’ll share.”

Another hour passes, the pink and orange hues becoming deeper purples and reds as the sky darkens with night. Some people start to call it quits, returning home to their own children, breathing secret sighs of relief that they have children to return home to. Your group remains intact; no one is even considering leaving until they physically cannot move any longer.

With just overworked flashlight bulbs illuminating your path, you continue trudging through the woods. Hopper’s shift was over hours ago, but he’s steadfast in his pursuit to find Harris.

Eddie’s exhausted physically and emotionally, feeling like every part of him has been drained and can never be replenished. His son is missing; he might have been kidnapped, and he doesn’t know if or when he’ll see him again. All he wants is to hold him again, to hear his little laugh as he tells a cheesy joke he learned at school, to watch him sound out new words or draw a picture or just fall asleep in his own bed.

Hopper’s walkie crackles; he clutches it tight and holds it so he can hear it clearly.

“Chief, we may have a sighting.”

A light flickers behind Eddie’s eyes; he doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but he can’t help himself. He listens intently as the other officer relays the information.

“Doris Driscoll just went outside to let her cats in for the night, and when they didn’t go inside, she went looking. Found them behind a bush, eating crackers out of a little boy’s hands. He told her his name is Harris. Matches the descriptions the father provided.”

Eddie grabs your hand, gripping it with whatever strength he has left. You feel a surge course through your veins as Hopper motions for you to follow him to his car. He turns on his siren and guns it down the road, swerving in and out of traffic to get to the old woman’s house as fast as he can.

Please, please let him be here, you silently pray, subconsciously screwing your eyes shut and holding your breath. The only thing worse than not knowing where he is might just be a false alarm that he’s been found.

Hopper slams on the brakes behind an ambulance parked in front of the Driscoll residence, their open doors allowing the fluorescent lights to stream through. Eddie watches, wide-eyed, as an EMT wheels a stretcher over to it.

A stretcher carrying Harris.

“Harris!” Eddie cries in simultaneous relief, exuberance, and fear. He instinctively reaches for a door handle, quickly remembering that he’s in a cop car and had to wait for Hopper to let him out from the outside.

You’re already crying; everything you’d been holding back to maintain a solid resolve for Eddie is crumbling as soon as you’d seen his son. You scramble out of the car, right behind him, and run to where the emergency technicians are treating Harris.

He’s awake and alert, and he spots the two of you right away. “Daddy! Ms. Sweetheart!” He tries sitting up, but a technician gently guides him to lay down again. “No, that’s my daddy and my almost-mommy!” he protests. “I gotta see them!”

You and Eddie reach him at the same time. He’s covered in dirt; it’s smudge along his cheeks, his arms, and his legs. He’s even managed to get some on the tip of his nose. Some blood is smeared on his right knee where he’s seemed to have scraped it, and the EMTs spray some antiseptic on it and apply a bandage before he can even feel the sting.

“Oh, thank God.” The words rush out of Eddie’s mouth, and he puts his palms on his son’s cheeks and presses kisses all over his face. “You’re okay, you’re okay…” He turns to the technicians, worry pinching his brows together. “He’s okay, right? There’s nothing wrong?” He pushes some of Harris’s damp curls from his forehead. There aren’t any visible bumps or bruises on his face, which eases a bit of his nerves.

One technician nods. “Right now, it seems like he’s just got some minor lacerations, but we’ll run the gamut of tests to rule out more severe injuries.” She looks over at the police chief, who stands a few yards behind you. “We’ll take it from here.”

Hopper gives a small, sad smile; it’s then that you remember that his own child had passed away nearly twenty years ago. She was only a little older than Harris is now.

Eddie follows your gaze with red-rimmed eyes, the realization setting in for him, too. “Thanks, Chief,” he says, just loud enough so Hopper can hear him. Hopper nods, placing his hat atop his head before walking away.

The EMTs check for any broken or sprained bones, shine lights into Harris’s pupils, and ask him a few simple questions to assess for a concussion. “We’ll have to take him to the hospital, just to be sure,” they say to you and Eddie, “but barring any extenuating circumstances, you should be able to bring him back home tonight.”

“Okay, yeah, okay,” Eddie breathes, crouching down a bit so he’s eye-level with his son. “Har, can you tell us why you ran away from school? You’re not in trouble; I promise.”

Harris looks down at the blanket draped across his lap. “I had really big feelings, and I tried thinking about the zoo like you told me,” he glances at you, “but then the feelings didn’t go away, so I decided to go there.”

You take his small hand in yours. “What were the big feelings?” you ask gently, free of judgment and filled with concern.

He thinks for a second, then states matter-of-factly, “Mad and sad.”

“Mad and sad?”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, wiping at his nose with his free hand. “‘Cause of Ms. Marion and Ms. Paula.”

You freeze, trying to regain your composure before Harris can pick up on your uncertainty. “What happened with your teachers, Har?”

“They were saying mean things about you and Daddy, and it made me mad and sad.”

At the sound of his title, Eddie speaks up. “Mean things about us?”

“Yeah, like, that Ms. Sweetheart is probably teaching you how to read, too,” Harris explains, “and I said that they’re lying, that you’re really smart and read to me all the time. And that Ms. Sweetheart isn’t your teacher; she’s my almost-mommy.”

Eddie clenches his fists, veins prominent as his body goes stiff. His anger isn’t at the insult, but at the way they could speak so brazenly about a child’s family, disregarding the hurt it causes. He doesn’t care what those women think of him, but he’s furious that they upset Harris.

“They keeped laughing and telled me to go play,” Harris continues, getting choked up at the memory. “I tried to do my breathing and my favorite place remembering with Charlie, but it didn’t work. And I got lost going to the zoo–the real zoo, not the one in my imagination–so I hided with the cats until the nice lady found me.”

You and Eddie share heartbroken looks, pushing aside your respective emotions as you tend to the little boy laying in front of you. “Get some rest, Har Bear,” you murmur, kissing the top of his head. “You had a long day.”

He falls asleep after a few minutes, constantly checking to make sure that the two of you are still by his side. As soon as his breathing steadies and his eyes remain closed, Eddie turns to you, exhausted and running on fumes. Wet brown doe eyes pleadingly gaze at you, lids heavy with sleep. You wrap your arms around him, unable to get close enough. He moves slowly, every action a delayed reaction, but he gradually embraces you, too.

“Stay. Please.” The words are muffled by the way his mouth is mashed into your scalp, but you hear them perfectly fine. “And if we get to go home tonight, come back with us. I need you both close to me.”

“Of course.” Your own lips press against his perspiration-soaked shirt collar. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.” You pull back ever-so-slightly, brushing tears from his cheeks. “He’s safe. He’s safe, and he’s here, and we get to keep spoiling and loving him.”

Eddie absorbs this as best as he can, mind still spinning as the adrenaline crash hits. There’s so much he wants to say, but for right now, he just carves out space in his body for yours. Your light whisper keeps him grounded, pulling hi away from the spiraling that usually overtakes him in times of crisis.

“I’ve got you.”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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heartshapedbubble · 10 months ago

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Ello can I request a Norton Fools good x fem reader where she came across the blown up mines and sees Norton (in his hunter form) she’s scared at first but starts to recognise him and slowly starts to approach him reaching her hand up to cub his cheeks ( bro this man needs all the love! )

HOO BOY i agree tho... his release made me regain my interest in norton🫡🫡

[not to be a scum but i'm still open for sanrio emma comms btw😭😭]

fool's gold: imagine...⛏️

cut for length!

paying the bills has become a hellish cycle. break your back to pay off the expenses, relax for the following twenty-ish days, and be sent into frenzy again, not knowing if you're going to have a roof over your head tomorrow or not.

you found yourself hopelessly skimming through newspaper, looking for any job offer possible that would easen up the burden on your wallet. The paper was plastered with offers from bars, post offices and restaurants, but those were a always gamble. will you get your wage or not? and if you will, when? too much effort for something so high-risk.

at last, a small offer in the corner of the page caught your attention. pressed in miniscule letters, it said: MINE RESEARCH. EMPLOYEES URGENTLY NEEDED. EQUIPMENT PROVIDED. underneath the text, an attractive number: $15,000 payed off immediately after the job is done.

not only could this solve the rent for the following 3 months, you'd also have some money left for yourself! you rang the number the second you got home and successfully scored the job, due to the urgency of the situation.

it took you a day or two to start thinking about the job. what do you exactly need to know for mine research? probably at least some physical strength and stamina, you thought. surely it can't be too complex.

you arrived at the mine right on time, the sun slowly slipping back into the horizon to let the moon take center stage. to your dismay, you realized no one else applied for the job. maybe this wasn't a good idea after all? crawling through the narrow, rocky terrain all alone doesn't sound like the ideal scenario. no living being in sight, and 20 minutes have already went by.

still, that money is way too good to pass up. you picked up one of the yellow helmets piled up at the entrance, prayed to whatever god out there that your flashlight has enough power to last the following 2 hours and mindlessly rushed into the collapsing mine.

for the following 10 minutes, your sight unfocused while your mind took the lead, in front of and all around you just rocks and grime, shadows dispelled by the flashlight held by your hip like a lance. only after a good 5 minutes of running did you realize that you, in fact, have no idea what you're supposed to do. what qualifies as mine research? mining, inspecting the ores, measuring the surface?

all sweaty and breathless, the tunnel led you to a large room inside of the mine, the roof extending towards what seemed like a pitch black abyss. carts messily thrown around, bumpy and unpolished geodes laying all over the place, when was the last time a living being stepped foot into this mine? it made sense that such a large sum of money was needed to attract volunteers.

you carefully moved through the rubble, trying to avoid stepping onto pickaxes and shrapnel splayed all over the ground. since you forgot about the gloves your bare hand now held onto the unpromising terrain, the other firmly squeezing the only source of light in this limbo.

the surface grazing your hand now seems like it became... smoother? no longer does it cut and pierce your palms. it's bumpy, but at least you're not risking an infection anymore.

moving inch by inch in fear of falling, the stone below changes its form. you don't even pay attention to the fact that you're now grabbing onto cloth and that, below your palm, a steady pulse is faintly beating.

it's already too late when you realize that you're not alone, and the stone below you starts to take shape and morph until it extends towards the ceiling, now towering over you, slouched like a ragdoll.

complementing the cold shades of grey, a face emerges from the shadows. pale, with defined cheekbones, although malnourished. only his bust passes as human, as below his collarbones there's nothing but a mosaic of pebbles and boulders forming his torso, arms and legs. it - or he, perhaps - is breathing with struggle, coughs interrupting his wheezes here and there.

you feel a sense of dread overcoming you. you freeze on the spot, but he doesn't budge, either. lifeless except for the fact he's breathing and his heart ticks like a machine.

you draw back a step, and he lunges forward, seemingly still not used to this monstrous body of his. he could harm me with ease if he wanted to, a thought suddenly manifests in your mind, and with newfound bravery you inspect the cryptid like a sculpture. your hand grazes over his bumpy and unfinished hands, tugs at the remains of his clothes around his chest. he groans, in annoyance, you assume, but doesn't resist. you climb up a cart to reach his face, your fingers pinch his stubborn hairstrands, inspect the cavity in which his other eye once laid. in a moment of either stupidity or courage you roughly pinch his cheeks - they're cold to the touch, but it's funny how naturally does his intimidating face mush like a little boy's. kind of cute. after a minute of cooing to yourself two of his rocky fingers gently pinch your wrists and put them back to your sides, but his one foggy eye doesn't divert its gaze from yours.

perhaps the flashlight can last an hour more.. you've just began getting to know him, and the mystery of the mine and his origin still lay cold for you to discover.

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utopya-cc · 6 months ago

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youtube

Preview) Passionate Gifts| Functinal Designer Bag

Hi everyone. I hope you are all doing well! I have some exciting things to share and show you🤩!

✨This is one of the most exciting updates that I have made. There is more to it than what you saw in the preview video. The video covers just the animation; there are a lot of other features!

Basically, the update will have a whole new mod! So please Try to read the full post. Don't skip to the download page; there are some important things to know before Downloading it and using it,

The New Animation:

Let's start with the animations. This interaction has multiple animations that they may play each time you perform it. (just some small cute variation to the main animation)

One major new thing with this interaction is that it's staring from the back. Your sims will come from the back to give the gifts.

The Pros are: I think it looks great, I think coming from the back adds to The intimacy and surprise element of giving gifts, But the Cons are the game interactions are all face to face, so doing it like this isn't the best and the smoothest way to do it,

The New Designer Bag Gift:

The Designer Bag will cost your sim $1500 Simoleons ( I think it's well worth it; more on it later in this post!). The new interaction is located in the passionate gift pie menu under the romance category, with its own Custom Icons.

There are 12 in total swatches/brands that you can get. I will show you some of them now and let you explore the others.

I first planned to make it into a one-box gift, and then you can change the swatch by build buy, but it was a little bit inconvenience for the gameplay, and I didn't like it that much,

So I had to push it a little bit further, and thankfully, I did manage to figure out how to add all of them (it was one of the main reasons that extended the release date),

So now, every time you give the gift, your sims may give and receive one of 12 different Designer Bags. Each bag has its own Package Box, and the gift will change depending on each swatch. So, basically, there are twelve new gifts in this update.

You can still change the swatch by build-buy, but I think it is more fun to let your sim choose. I have also added a small mechanic to lower the chance of giving Duplicate swatches if you already have that bag in your sim inventory.

(I just want to mention that I added a surprise animation when they see the prize tag! It's just a small detail that I thought it would look cute 👇)

The Interaction Outcome:

After performing the interaction, your sim will receive the Designer Bag and its own custom Package Box. Also, your sim will receive some Buffs and moodlets for both the target and the actor,

As I said, each bag Has its own custom package box. You can sell it for 20§ or decorate your house with it. It can also work as a pedestal for your bag. I have added a slot to it so you can put stuff on it:

The Fully Functional Bag:

Now, let's start with some more exciting stuff. The bag is fully functional🤩! You can wear it and rename it. It is also live draggable, so you can live-drag it whenever you want, and it comes with its own inventory.

First of all, how do you wear it? You can easily do that from your sim inventory! Just click on it and click on (Wear). You can wear it with any outfit you like!!

It will be shown in the queued interaction on the left side of the running interactions. You can remove it by canceling the interaction.

While you are wearing it, you can't access the bag; you have to remove it first, and then you can access it or live drag it.

By wearing the bag, your sim will get a confident Buff.

Also, wearing the bag will slow the decay of some of your sim needs. My idea behind that is that wearing a bag makes youre sim more organized and less likely to get tired.The modifiers aren't that crazy; I think with them, it's just more fun to remember to wear it before going on a walk or to the coffee shop.

I have also added some buffs to other sims around you. For example, they may be amazed by seeing your sim wearing a Designer brand, and your partner may feel flirty if they see your sim wearing their gift.

The bag is Live draggable; you can drag it anywhere you want and open it. Each bag will have its own separate inventory, which can store almost anything and help organize your sim's inventory better.

The bag will be fully functional. I am planning on some existing features for it, and I will post some sneak peeks soon, so keep an eye out for that.

There are twelve Bags for your sim to have. I mean, I can imagine that Wealthy Sims will have at least two or three bags, so I have added the (add-to favorites options); you can do that while the bag is on your Sims inventory, so you can keep track of youre favorite used bag while carrying multiple ones for your different Outfits. And you can also rename them!

Of course, you can also collect all of them just to fill and decorate your Sims' closet. So, I have kept the option of buying it from Build Buy. Most of the bag's features will work, minus some gift-related ones.

To access the bag inventory, You have to place or live-drag it first; you can't open it from the inventory.

Showering or sleeping will remove the bag automatically. (I am blacklisting the interaction where youre sim removes the bag by hand, so if I have missed something, let me know)

The sim who receives the Designer Bag Gift Will automatically be the owner Of that Bag,

DOWNLOAD:

#sims 4 #sims 4 cc #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims4 mods #sims4 animation #animation #the sims mods #mods #Youtube

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hatoheart · 27 days ago

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hey so I’ve said before I prefer to keep my blog a drama free place but

Oh well. It’s my blog and I can break my own rules as I see fit lol.

My background with Lily Orchard: I had been a fan since about summer 2019 (20 years old, I was born December 12, 1998) and had heard her talk about the various abuse she claims to have gone through throughout her life. With no reason to believe otherwise, I just accepted this. I bought into everything she said when allegations came out against her because I had already anchored my beliefs to things she’d said. It’s hard to dismantle beliefs that are so ingrained in you.

In June 2024 I made a tumblr post asking for actual evidence, and to be fair, I had plenty of people come to me in good faith. Unfortunately, I was unwilling to believe a lot of what I was sent, parroting the same excuses for them I’d heard Lily use. I like to think of myself as someone who’s objective and looks at things from every side, and yeah, I’ll fully admit I was not doing that at all here. I got dunked on a bit, rightfully so.

I was a member of Lily’s Patreon server from June-September 2024 (I only just joined Patreon itself in June 2024). I started as a $1 Patron before bumping up to a $5 Patron for access to the Patron chat. I wouldn’t say I was especially close to Lily, I certainly wasn’t part of her “inner circle”, and got reprimanded by her a few times for various minor things, but ultimately she trusted me enough to let me into the private “server regulars” chat she implemented a week or so before I left.

The first major crack came when she used me venting in her stream chat about my beef with KP as an excuse to drop her and Sai’s full names. I did not at all endorse that and was actually quite pissed at her for doing that. I value my privacy a lot, and I try to extend that courtesy to everyone else I come across online. I’ve got plenty of good friends online and I couldn’t tell you the real-life names of about 90% of them.

Ultimately, the incest game folder was the major incident that got me thinking. She did her best to debunk it, but it was just… such a flimsy excuse? It seemed like she was desperate to cover it up. I don’t know, I’d bought into plenty of things she’d said in the past, but this seemed… unbelievable. So after spending a few days conflicted, I looked back into the evidence I’d been given months prior. And it was… a lot. I lashed out at some people trying to help me during this time, and blocked someone who’d been very cordial to me in DMs. I was stuck. I didn’t know what to believe. I suppose you could say this was my breaking point.

Ultimately the evidence did prove overwhelming, so on September 13th, 2024, I quietly left Lily’s community. No big statement, no fuss, just quietly retracted my Patreon sub, unfollowed on tumblr, and unsubscribed on YouTube. I’ve been quiet for the past month, give or take.

And man, has hindsight been 20/20.

She frames everything as “my boundaries tho” so that she can excuse being rude to her fans. She consistently denies Tara Callie/Stockholm and other wrongdoings without any proof to back up her claims.

I’ve watched KP and Courtney’s videos. I’ve looked at Britt’s evidence. I’ve privately made amends with all three of them.

I had already planned on watching Joon the King’s video when it released. I was a fan of his prior and figured if he was covering Lily… then there must be something I was ignoring.

Part of the reason it can be so difficult to look into Lily’s past is because the resources aren’t neatly gathered in one place. Joon’s video does just that. An easily digestible resource for people to get the gist of who she is.

And I’m sorry to anyone I may have hurt on her behalf. I am not claiming to be innocent here, I knowingly dug my heels in while claiming to want evidence, and then refused to look at it. I’m sorry for the rancid shit I’ve said and done to people in defense of Lily.

But I’ve opened my eyes. I’ve stopped hiding from the truth.

I’m not going to discuss this further, as I’ve said I prefer to keep my blog a fairly lighthearted place for me to hyperfixate and shitpost. I’m not interested in dunking on Lily or harassing her (please don’t harass her), but just being transparent and letting everyone know where I stand as of right now. This needed to be said eventually.

#emily's ramblings #lily orchard

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moiraimyths · 8 months ago

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Howdy, fateful friends! Are you an artist or illustrator with an interest in visual novels?

If so: Moirai Myths, creators of the visual novel The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe), are in need of guest artists! More specifically, we're looking for up to two artists to help us with the content graphics ("CGs") for Maeve and Shae's upcoming routes. All of the details will be listed on our application form (linked below), but here is the gist:

This is paid work with 20-30 business day deadlines per piece!

Complicated revisions in the post-sketch phase are compensated!

You will be prioritized for future guest artist opportunities!

You will be featured/credited on Moirai Myths' website and in the game itself!

Sound interesting? If so, apply here:

Click under the cut for some F&Q 👇

Who are you? (I'm new here!)

Hi! We're Moirai Myths: a small, newish visual novel company based out of Canada. We're making a game inspired by mostly Irish mythology, which was funded on Kickstarter in 2023! Our game's got fairy politics, a diverse cast, a Gaeilge-to-English translation tool, and routes that can be played either romantically or platonically! Also horses. An ungodly amount of horses, really.

If that odd pitch sounded intriguing, perhaps you'd like to play our demo! It's free on Steam & Itch.io.

Why are you looking for guest artists?

When we originally launched our Kickstarter, the plan was to have our three in-house artists collaborate on the CGs in the same way our header image was. However, we quickly realized that adding CGs, even if they're done collaboratively, onto the existing duties of our artists was a tall order. Add to that the departure of our original sprite artist (who has since been replaced by our graphic designer), and we determined that having our in-house team work on CGs was simply not possible if we still wanted our first release to happen in 2024. So, rather than omitting CGs or adding them in at a later time, we came up with the idea of hiring guest artists. Overall this means our CGs will be a bit more varied in terms of art style, but we like to think of this as a positive! NDM's development will take a number of years to complete in full, so we hope our CGs will allow us to feature a lot of artists either within the VN/indie dev community already, or artists who aspire to work in gaming and are looking for entry positions.

How long will applications remain open for?

This application will be open until Sunday, March 24 at midnight (EST)! If we intend to extend past that deadline, we'll make an announcement about it.

I can't apply right now. Will you look for more CG guest artists in the future?

Definitely! As mentioned, NDM will take a while to develop in full, so this is by no means your only opportunity to apply. That being said, we suspect we're going to end up shortlisting a number of artists over the course of this application period, and we intend to keep a list of all the runners-up. So, even if you won't be able to participate this time, it might be a good idea to apply anyway just to remain in our contacts! Either way, this will not be the last time we have apps.

Will you be looking for guest artists outside of CGs?

Maybe! We already have two guest artists (Nefukurou and Madi Funk) working on sprites and CGs respectively, so it's always possible that we'll have other artistic needs later down the line. Likewise, we may also reach out to past guest artists for future work with us, whether it's on this game or something else!

You say we need to sign an NDA. What does that entail?

The non-disclosure agreement essentially means you will be legally unable to publicly disclose any confidential information you become privy to as a result of working with us. This would include personal information about the developers, as well as spoilers from the game itself. In addition do this, you will be expected to sign over the IP and copyright of any artworks you produce for us.

Can I still use my artworks in portfolios, even if I don't own the copyright?

Yes! We'd only ask, if your portfolio is a website, that you wait to do so until after your art has been made public by us, either on our social media or via the publication of the game. Our first release is anticipated to happen later this year, most likely mid-autumn.

How do you guys feel about AI? Do you intend to use it, or would you ever train an AI off of the artworks whose copyright you own?

No.

Making a game is expensive and time-consuming, but AI is no replacement for human artistry. We fundamentally believe that any advancements in AI should be used for the purpose of giving people more time to make art, not take away opportunities for it. Moirai Myths will never, ever use AI or train an AI off your work.

***

If you've got any more questions for us that we didn't think to include here, feel free to send us an ask!

#the good people #na daoine maithe #ndm #visual novel #interactive fiction #otome #english otome #amare #amare game #visual story #visual storytelling #romance game #otome romance #romance visual novel #dating game #dating sim #moirai myths

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hibiscuswrites · 8 months ago

Note

If you have the time, could I please request a HC/would include of Ray accidentally dialing the wrong number and it ends up being his future SO? Like maybe he’s in jail and they start talking by accident and it’s a super slow process but they begin to trust each other and end up meeting/falling in love? 🌺

This idea fucked. me. up.

He was just trying to call his boy

Blow off some steam

Shoot the shit before his time ran out and he had to go back to his cell

He was scratching at the paint on the phone while he waited, hearing the line click and expecting to hear the deep voice of his friend

But instead its a much softer voice

One he's never heard before

"Hello?"

And his brows knit because who the fuck is this?

He doesn't have to wonder long though

"Uh, hi. Ray was it? Yeah uh, you have the wrong number. Sorry. I didn't want to hang up before the call connected so you wouldn't waste your time calling again and again. Not sure who you're trying to reach but...this isn't them."

Your laugh is awkward yet...endearing

Soft and light

Such a contrast to what he hears in here

Not to mention, he hasn't had a woman laugh in his ear in quite some time

Even if it's through this shitty phone

He chuckles himself and leans against the wall

"Yeah, I guess not. Tony could never sound so beautiful."

You laugh again and Ray smiles on instinct at the sound

Shocked that you haven't hung up yet

You knew he was an inmate

The collect call always tells you ahead of time

So that meant you stayed on the call and accepted anyway

Just like you said, so he wouldn't waste his call time

And the thought is so selfless that he doesn't wanna hang up

He expects you to though

So he lies

"Well, they don't really let us call another number once we dial. We only get the five minutes with one number. If they don't pick up or we get cut off, tough shit. So maybe we could talk for the next...four minutes and 20 seconds?"

It's a shot in the dark and he's 100% expecting the line to click

"Oh, well...ok. Not sure what you want to talk about, stranger."

You laugh again and so does he

"What's your name?"

The silence stretches for a bit and Ray winces, feeling like he fucked it up

"Nevermind, it's all good. I'll call you Sunshine, since that's how your voice sounds."

He knows it is ridiculous

Spitting game to a girl he doesn't know and will never speak to again, but it's enough to pass the time

Your laugh is sweet like honey when it passes through the receiver and even though he has no idea what you look like, he can almost see you roll your eyes

"Smooth talker, I see."

"I try."

The rest of the call goes by the same, him flirting gently and you laughing until the automated voice signals that the call is going to end in 30 seconds

And against his better judgment, he calls again the next day

And you pick up again

The days pass like that, his light flirting and you entertaining him

He asks what you ate today and you tell him in elaborate detail to where he can almost taste it

Asks what the weather is like and your words are so vivid, it paints the picture for him to where he feels like he can see through your eyes

He longs and yearns for your voice and talks

Soon enough, you've been talking every day, him getting your name and stopping with the flirting once he realizes that he's actually into you

And the days turn into weeks

Weeks into months

You send him a picture of yourself, praying that doing so isn't a mistake

And he sends you one back of himself

You write letters to each other

Video calls when he can

He has another inmate paint a portrait of you and sends it as a gift

And before either of you realize, his release date is coming up

He extends the offer to see if you'd be willing to meet him, and even though he wants to, he wouldn't be hurt or offended if you refused

Proud and understanding of your apprehension

So he offers to meet in a crowded public place if you're willing and you are

Both of you sporting each other under the bright sun in the local farmers market

Your eyes brighter than he ever could've imagined

Your smile enough to make his heart feel like a puddle of warm butter

He stands before you and stuffs his hands into his pockets, itching to touch you but not daring to

"Hi, Sunshine."

And the twinkle in your eye as you gaze at him is enough to convince him that punching the number in wrong that day was the best mistake he's ever made

"Hi, Stranger."

General taglist

@titty-teetee @vibranium-soul @ateliefloresdaprimavera @glimmerglittergirl @hatterripper31 @lilac-tea-time @krysiewithak

Ray Merrimen taglist @effie365

#🌺 anon #headcannons #ray merrimen #den of thieves #ray merrimen x reader #pablo schreiber

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reikorun · 9 months ago

Text

KlubOutside Q&A 201-300 [Translation]

Translated by @reikorun

Q201.

2021.09.20

I like Luppi. I was absolutely overjoyed when Luppi made an appearance as a playable character in Blade Battlers 2nd which was released on PS2. In this game, Luppi's arms transform into tentacles and he could extend them to attack. I was surprised because there was no such depiction in the original work. Did sensei also supervise the settings for attacks in this game?

A201.

I can't recall so I probably didn't touch it. Luppi fighting with outstretched arms is so entertaining to me. I think that outlaw kind of feeling is one of the greatest qualities about games back then.

Q202.

2021.09.20

Of all the characters you have drawn, which one did sensei consider the most difficult to design?

A202.

Shun Shun Rikka, or rather the image of Orihime's abilities is the one thing which changed the most without quite clicking together. Initially, the story was that Orihime herself would grow Horns and sprout a tail, becoming sort of like a dragon girl.

Q203.

2021.09.20

Sensei, is there any character that you have drawn who makes you think "this guy is insufferable"?

A203.

There isn't. I draw while thinking “this is so scummy, that's the best thing about it.”

Q204.

2021.09.20

Does Kubo-sensei have any fetish? When I look at sensei's drawings, I can't help but speculate that you like slender wrists and long fingers, regardless of gender.

A204.

I don't have any particular fetish. I think it's because I draw illustrations using my own hands as reference.

Q205.

2021.09.20

Regarding Ichimaru Gin's eye color, I believe it was red around the early days of the anime, and then changed to blue in the latter half. What does Kubo-sensei think of his red eyes around this early stage? Also, as far as Kubo-sensei's canon is concerned, is it safe to assume Ichimaru Gin's eye color is blue?

A205.

In the early days, the checks were not being handed down to me so they ended up being red. For the record, the anime related mistakes were errors made by my editor at the time who didn't bring the checks to me. Because of this, I drew Gin with his eyes open on the cover of volume 20.

Q206.

2021.09.20

Rukia's visuals in the live-action adaptation has become quite a hot topic of conversation, but was the matter reviewed by Kubo-sensei?

A206.

I had made it clear from the beginning that I would not be involved with the live-action project, so basically the whole thing was given the okay. Even regarding Rukia's hair, there was a conversation where they said "we'd like to go ahead with this" so I assumed there was a clear vision but it turns out there wasn't. I don't dislike the movie itself. Renji was extremely good.

Q207.

2021.09.27

Kubo-sensei, to what extent do you supervise merchandise and so on? I'm very happy that a lot of BLEACH merch has been released recently.

A207.

I feel like I'm supervising the things my editor can't make a judgment call on. Speaking of editors, they try their best to avoid handing over supervision duties to authors so that they can allow authors to concentrate on their creations, but after the series had ended, I had some free time so my editor has started bringing me more supervision duties than before.

Q208.

2021.09.27

If it were to come true, would you ever wish for a BLEACH anime adaptation, which faithfully follows the original work, to be broadcast by way of a remake?

A208.

I think I would.

Q209.

2021.09.27

It seems that the 2021 art exhibition will only be held at one location in Tokyo, but would it be possible for you to consider holding it at a variety of other locations? I'm really looking forward to it, but I'm sure there are many people across the country who live a considerable distance away and can't make it. It's a wonderful opportunity, so I think it will be easier to visit if it is hosted in various locations. I think it's a really difficult task, but I would be grateful if you could consider it just once.

A209.

I also want to show the exhibit to my parents, so I hope it will be held in Hiroshima.

Q210.

2021.09.27

Even though Byakuya and Ichika-chan never interact in the original work, I can easily imagine Byakuya being an uncle. I wonder why that is?

A210.

I can imagine it too. Byakuya's face whenever he tells her "kamawanu*"…. (*It's fine/I don't mind)

Q211.

2021.09.27

In volume 58, chapter 518, when Grimmjow was trying to interrupt Urahara and Ichigo's communication, Urahara instructed Orihime and Sado to "use the you-know-what to chase him back outside the tent", but what exactly was the "you-know-what"? What in the world is it, that it can throw Grimmjow off balance to such a degree…? I've been wondering about this for a long time.

A211.

It's a device which emits a sound that Grimmjow dislikes.

Q212.

2021.09.27

Is Ninny-chan easier to draw than Noel-chan?? I was curious because there are more illustrations drawn of Ninny-chan!

A212.

This is because the clothes I want to draw tend to suit Ninny better. If you have big breasts, it's probably difficult to find clothes that suit you.

Q213.

2021.10.04

Ginrei is Byakuya's grandfather, but Kyōraku did not mention his name as a Shinigami who has been Captain for 100 years or more, so perhaps his career as a Captain was rather short?

A213.

I forgot to mention him! Let's just pretend it was Shunsui's blunder.

Q214.

2021.10.04

Do you find that characters of a certain age group are easy to draw, and conversely, characters of a different age group difficult to draw?

A214.

I'm not very good at drawing children or toddlers.

Q215.

2021.10.04

I have been curious about Tsubokura Rin-kun of the Shinigami Research and Development Institute. Rin-kun's hair wasn't filled in when he was in monochrome, I thought for certain he had pale blonde or white hair. However, in the anime his hair was dark brown … so as far as you are concerned sensei, what colors did you imagine when designing him?

A215.

Was that the color it turned out to be? The image I had in mind is a pale sepia-like color.

Q216.

2021.10.04

Isn't it too bothersome to draw Grimmjow's hairstyle??

A216.

It's too bothersome isn't it? I wonder if you could give him a stiff pompadour instead?

Q217.

2021.10.04

Do you remember the first game you ever played?

A217.

It's "GeGeGe no Kitarō - Yōkai Daimakyō" which was purchased for me together with the Famicom unit itself.

Q218.

2021.10.04

Do you get asked to draw portraits by acquaintances?

A218.

I have always refused all portrait requests from both friends and celebrities.

Q219.

2021.10.11

What is Kensei's specialty dish?

A219.

It's "Whole Pumpkin Gratin". The highlight for him is the part where he gets to use his bare hands.

Q220.

2021.10.11

When I saw the Playlist on KlubOutside, I was surprised at the wide scope of Sensei's music choices. How do you discover new music?

A220.

SoundHound is my recommendation.

Q221.

2021.10.11

Is the bellyband worn by the Shinigami Men's Association the same as the one worn by Kirinji Tenjirō?

A221.

It's different. The bellyband Tenjirō wears was made by Senjumaru.

Q222.

2021.10.11

Now that I think of it, what does "Whiskrs" mean? I looked into it, and although there are some existing terms, I couldn't find anything in particular with regard to its meaning. I don't know whether sensei came up with the name or not, but perhaps it envelopes some special meaning?

A222.

It's a modified spelling of the word "whiskers". I came up with the name, or to be more specific, it's originally the name of a store that exists within the BTW universe. Though, this still has yet to make an appearance in the story.

Q223.

2021.10.11

When you go out, have you ever had a fan recognize you as Kubo-sensei and then attempt to speak with you?

A223.

A long time ago, another author wound up uploading a photo of a drinking party I was with to Twitter in the middle of the get-together, the restaurant was identified from the photograph and I was ambushed. It was late at night and I was on my way home alone, so it was really scary. That was probably the one and only time I was approached on the street.

Q224.

2021.10.11

Sensei, have you ever felt negatively about your own work in the past? I am currently creating works with the goal of becoming a designer, but unfortunately I feel embarrassed to display even the things I have created very recently in front of others. How do you overcome this from your perspective, sensei?

A224.

When I first became a manga artist, I felt embarrassed when my editor read my draft right in front of me. If you are creating something that personally satisfies you, you're just not accustomed to showing it to the average person, so you have no choice but to show it to a bunch of people and get used to it.

Q225.

2021.10.11

Have you ever had a character Awakened in Brave Souls? If so, I would like to know which character it is.

A225.

It's Fierce Battle Aizen. Though, it's more like I just ended up Awakening him when I was targeting others.

Q226.

2021.10.18

In the work, it was never once stated from a reliable source that Tōshirō's Bankai comes undone once his petals dissipate, but what actually happened when his petals fell away during the period he had an imperfect Bankai?

A226.

Hitsugaya would injure himself after going through an imperfect growth.

Q227.

2021.10.18

When Rangiku had collapsed, Gin said "the fact that you passed out from hunger, it means that you have it too, right? Spiritual Power." and in Volume 11, there is a description from the exchange between Rukia and Renji that those with Spiritual Power feel hungry. But why didn't Hitsugaya realize he had powers until he dreamed of Hyōrinmaru?

A227.

Because his grandmother taught him that "only children get hungry.”

Q228.

2021.10.18

Why did Orihime's Rikka grow larger when Chad and Orihime returned from training in the final arc? I was curious because no one touched on the matter.

A228.

That's because Kisuke modified it to match her clothes (a cover was installed on the outside of the pins to make them difficult to break), but nobody said anything because they didn't think it was particularly worth mentioning.

Q229.

2021.10.18

When I was looking at "Hirako glasses" which was updated on the Gallery's Graffiti section, I became curious, what is that thing Hirako Shinji is holding in his mouth? Considering the hot drink in his left hand, maybe it's a cinnamon stick or something?

A229.

It's a cigarillo that he's holding in his mouth purely for fashion. I looked into it when I drew it but I couldn't find anything that matched the size I imagined.

Q230.

2021.10.25

Good evening! The work titled "maturity" in the gallery that was released on April 3, 2021, could that be Mayuri-sama?

A230.

It's Mayuri. When I tried to type the title "mayuri", I accidentally tapped on the wrong suggestion and entered that instead, I left it as it is because it's a pain to change it.

Q231.

2021.10.25

Did Ikkaku make the strap that Ichika has attached to her bag in JET?

A231.

That's right.

Q232.

2021.10.25

In BLEACH, how much influence did the ranking results of popularity polls have on a character's level of activity?

A232.

It's irrelevant. I'm the type who thinks "isn't that kind of thing discourteous to characters with few votes?"

Q233.

2021.10.25

Regarding the art exhibition, is it possible to increase the number of venues? I would absolutely love to participate, but due to the current situation, it is quite difficult to travel to Tokyo. Nevertheless, there are many fans of sensei and his work around the world. Although this is a very presumptuous request, I would be extremely grateful if you could consider it. Best regards.

A233.

I'll let my editor know! Murakoshi-saaan!!

Q234.

2021.10.25

Sensei, given that you play a lot of Dragon Quest, I was curious, is "Zaraki" - the district of Rukongai which Zaraki Kenpachi took as his name - based on the spell "Thwack" (*Zaraki in Japanese).

A234.

That's correct. Hold on, have I never mentioned this before?

Q235.

2021.11.01

Is there any reason why Kyōraku-san couldn't grace the cover of a tankōbon? I wanted him to have a cover.

A235.

It's just a coincidence. I wanted to draw it too.

Q236.

2021.11.01

Are Renji's tattoos only on the upper half of his body? Do they not continue down to his thighs?

A236.

They don't continue down. Wait? Have I never drawn his thighs before?

Q237.

2021.11.01

Is the double chant that Rukia recited during the fight against Aaroniero, simply the Sōren Sōkatsui chant split in two, with the Rikujōkōrō chant sandwiched in-between? Or does the substance of the chant change slightly depending on whether each is invoked independently or as a double chant?

A237.

It's a shortened version of Rikujōkōrō inserted between the full version of Sōren Sōkatsui. The effectiveness of the spells will increase if you perform both chants in full, but the time efficiency will decrease, so that would diminish the purpose of a two layered chant.

Q238.

2021.11.01

When a Zanpakutō is inherited from another person like in the case of Tōsen and Kenpachi, will the essence of its soul be overwritten? Or will it be made to mix with the essence of the previous owner?

A238.

Generally it is overwritten, but in some cases it may mix.

Q239.

2021.11.08

Were there any foreshadowing elements that made you go "ultimately, nobody noticed, huh?" up to the end of the BLEACH serialization? If so, is it likely there will be an opportunity to present it somewhere?

A239.

After I've finished playing a game or watching a movie, I like spending time alone thinking about what happened here and there or discussing with others about this and that. I want to create moments like that, so there are some parts where I try to depict things in a way that is not easily noticed, that's why unless someone correctly points it out, I try not to say much.

Q240.

2021.11.08

Why didn't Ryūken give Uryū the "ken" (弦) character in his name? ×[1]

A240.

Because he was thinking that he didn't want to let Uryū become Quincy.

Q241.

2021.11.08

How far have you progressed in Monster Hunter? If there is a monster that you like among the monsters that appear in this title, please tell me about it!

A241.

I haven't played in a while. In this title I like Goss Harag.

Q242.

2021.11.08

Can I post the photos from the gallery on social media??!?!?

A242.

I guess it's not allowed, going by the FC rules. You can post my dog from Deskside at least.

Q243.

2021.11.15

Have you ever had to change a scene you originally wanted in order to make the depiction more in line with Jump guidelines? If so, which scene is it and how did you truly want to draw it?

A243.

During the time Jump had a large circulation, extremely graphic depictions were not allowed, so I had to redraw some of the places where Mayuri appears. The first thing I fixed was the scene where his squad members die in an explosion.

Q244.

2021.11.15

There are characters for whom the theme music feels perfect, and on the other hand, others for whom the theme music is unexpected. By listening to each character's song, I feel like I am able to learn more about a character's inner being, it's so much fun! When deciding on a song, which does sensei place more importance on: the lyrics, or the melody?

A244.

It's only about the melody, sound and vocal quality. If it's the case that the lyrics also match, it's just a coincidence.

Q245.

2021.11.15

The market for e-books has grown larger, but when it comes to electronic and physical copy, people often say things like "you should buy the physical book!" What do you think?

A245.

Either one is fine. Even I read most of my manga electronically now. I like making paper books but I think physical paper copies will become more of a collector's item in the near future.

Q246.

2021.11.15

Kubo-sensei draws many animals, but are there any that you particularly enjoy drawing?

A246.

Right now it's dogs. Since owning a dog, I've started to grow fond of animals, so I feel like I may reach a point where I'm able to draw animals a little better now.

Q247.

2021.11.15

If there was an entrance song for Chad's boxing match, I wonder what kind of music it would be? If you have a song in mind that you can imagine for this scenario, please share the artist's name and song title with us.

A247.

It would be "Apache" by Michael Viner's Incredible Bongo Band.

Q248.

2021.11.22

An illustration of Tatsuki wearing a Shihakushō exists, did you originally plan to have her transform into a Shinigami?

A248.

The one I drew for Jump Festa a long time ago, right? That's just an illustration I drew for Jump Festa that one time.

Q249.

2021.11.22

It seems like Rukia often wears dresses in the Human World, is there some reason why? If you have any particular preferences regarding the clothing choices of the BLEACH cast, please by all means, tell us about it!

A249.

I'll give you three example reasons for why they wear what they wear:

Orihime's body type makes it difficult for her to wear a dress.

I wanted to make a physically active Rukia stand out by making her wear clothes that are ill suited for physical activity.

Rukia was wearing hakama in Soul Society, so she's not familiar with fitted clothes.

Q250.

2021.11.22

You may not remember this … but during an autograph signing session, I was the one who announced "I'm getting married to my boyfriend who I initially became friends with through BLEACH!" We broke up at lightning speed after that! (Peace sign.) But sometimes we hang out and are on good terms as friends. Now my question is, what is sensei's favorite color?

A250.

My condolences. It's orange.

Q251.

2021.11.22

In the JET Q&A segment, you replied that the Vice-Captains of the 13th Division ten years later would be Sentarō and Kiyone, but I believe Kiyone was also the Vice-Captain of the 4th Division, so does that mean that they are concurrently serving as Vice-Captains?

A251.

That would be a mistake. Sentarō is the only Vice-Captain of the 13th.

Q252.

2021.11.29

Please tell us how Unagiya Ikumi-san and Ichigo met in the first place.

A252.

Their meeting came about when Ichigo delivered Kaoru, a lost child (and Ikumi's son) back to his mother. (Ikumi encountered them en route.)

Q253.

2021.11.29

Ichigo remembers the time Orihime carried her older brother Sora to the Kurosaki Clinic, but does Orihime remember meeting Ichigo at this time? When Ichigo entered high school, he noticed that Orihime was the girl from back then, does Orihime realize that it was Ichigo who greeted her at that moment?

A253.

Ichigo is the only one who remembers. Ichigo remembers that scene clearly because he felt a strong sense of one-way sympathy for Orihime, who was on the verge of losing her family.

Q254.

2021.11.29

Sensei, what's the one thing that makes you think "I'm second to none when it comes to this!"?

A254.

My Mickey Mouse impression.

Q255.

2021.11.29

I got the impression that Aizen-sama was often drinking black tea at Las Noches, but I wonder if likewise he drank Japanese tea during the time he was in Soul Society in the role of a Shinigami? Or is it that Western style food and drink like black tea also exist in Soul Society, and he has been a black tea enthusiast since long ago?

A255.

I drew that because I wanted a scene where Aizen eats the same thing as the Espada, but when it came to eating, there were some characters (like Ulquiorra) who I didn't want to depict in a dining scene (at that point), so I merely chose black tea as a compromise, therefore it's not that I was paying any particular attention to tea itself.

Q256.

2021.12.06

Is it possible for a member of the Gotei 13 to transfer to another Squad at their own behest? Recruitment of Captains or Vice-Captains from other Squads has been portrayed, but what is the situation like for ordinary soldiers?

A256.

It is possible if they make an application and obtain permission through their superior officer all the way up to the Captain. However, If they don't have any accomplishments their superior will reject it so it's difficult for an ordinary soldier.

Q257.

2021.12.06

Do you have a favorite coffee shop?

A257.

The place I frequent the most is Hoshino Coffee. I want to go to Komeda but I haven't had the chance to go yet.

Q258.

2021.12.06

What kind of life did Ikkaku-san and Shino-chan lead in Rukongai? I'm not sure if they're related by blood or not, but are they still family?

A258.

They're ordinary relatives. The Madarame family are a distinguished family and Ikkaku is treated like an oddball.

Q259.

2021.12.06

What do you order when you use services like Uber Eats for delivery?

A259.

The thing I order the most is Starbucks' White Mocha. By the way, I don't use Uber because I had a scary experience in the past.

Q260.

2021.12.06

I would like a YouTube channel or something to be created for Uni-chan.

A260.

If I could get someone to do the editing for me, then I would like to make one to document my dog's growth, but I don't think I would update it often….

Q261.

2021.12.13

If you were to spend a day with any character from "BLEACH" or "BURN THE WITCH", who would you like to be with?

A261.

I seriously thought about it, but maybe being with Balgo would be the easiest….

Q262.

2021.12.13

Speaking in terms of BLEACH characters, who would you compare the breast sizes of Noel-chan and Cquntnire-san to?

A262.

It's more or less that I'm drawing Noel like Orihime and Cquntnire like Nel.

Q263.

2021.12.13

What is Kubo-sensei's favorite rock or metal band?

A263.

I haven't been listening to much metal lately…during my high school days, I liked ROYAL HUNT and IN FLAMES.

Q264.

2021.12.13

This is closer to a request than a question, but I would like for you to issue and sell, the currently trending, NFTs with BLEACH illustrations! If that were to happen, I would definitely buy them!

A264.

I'll let my editor know about this also. Murakoshi-saaan!

Q265.

2021.12.13

What is your favorite ice cream?

A265.

Lately, I've been liking HERSHEY'S Chocolate Ice Bars. It's also nice that each bar is small and just the right size.

Q266.

2021.12.20

I have a question regarding BTW Magic. In chapter 0.8 which is a one-shot, Noel-chan uses Absolute Dragon Shatter in Front London, but in chapter 1, numbered Pipers spells known as "Magic" made an appearance. As a premise, I believe that Magic and Absolute Dragon Shatter are alike (as they both use Witch Kits), I suspect that the reason why Noel-chan adopted this unnumbered attack method in Front London may be due to one of the following two points:

1. Magic is an attack method that utilizes the medium of Witch Kits to feed on a special energy similar to Reishi which exists only in Reverse London, on the other hand, Absolute Dragon Shatter is an attack method made for Front London, which does not require this special Reishi.

2. Given that it was an attack against a Disguiser Dragon who had remained hidden for ten odd years, Absolute Dragon Shatter was used as an arcane means and is considered the highest order of Magic or even a method surpassing Magic itself.

I'm really interested about the relationship between Magic and Absolute Dragon Shatter, will it be revealed within the story in the future!?

A266.

How insightful, I'm not sure whether or not I'll get to write about it in the future so I'll explain. In Front London, you can basically only use spells through items that are "charged" with magical power. The gun-pipe is not a rechargeable item, but Noel habitually fills it with magical power of her own accord, the release of that power is Absolute Dragon Shatter. Only Noel is able to use it.

Q267.

2021.12.20

The person Ichigo respects is Shakespeare. Given this fact, does it follow that this is a universe where eminent figures like Mozart and Napoleon existed?

A267.

Eminent figures certainly exist within the Soul Society too, but if I were to touch upon that, the manga would end up in a completely different place, so I didn't bring it up.

Q268.

2021.12.20

Do Szayelaporro's glasses have lenses? Since it's a mask, there should be no lenses so I assumed it was the frame alone. However in the anime, there were depictions of lenses reflecting the light and gleaming so I was confused!

A268.

There is no lens.

Q269.

2021.12.20

Were all the designs of the Zanpakutō which materialized in the Zanpakutō: The Alternate Tale arc, created by you, sensei?

A269.

I came up with some ideas and had an image in mind, Kudō-san designed them, I checked them. They pass for various reasons like being "just as I imagined!" or being "interesting because I wouldn't have come up with this design myself!"

Q270.

2021.12.27

Do you have a favorite character from Dragon Quest numbered titles or spin-off works?

A270.

It's King Grossner (Dragon Quest 10).

Q271.

2021.12.27

I heard that you like figure skating, Kubo-sensei, but do you have a favorite athlete?

A271.

It's Candeloro.

Q272.

2021.12.27

It is mentioned in the novel "WE DO knot ALWAYS LOVE YOU", that when Shiba Kaien died in battle, Isshin was the Captain of Squad 10. Why didn't Rukia, who was already serving as a member of the Gotei 13 at the time, realize that Ichigo's father was Shiba Isshin when she was freeloading off of the Kurosaki family?

A272.

There are two reasons for this: for one, his outward appearance was completely different. Secondly, he was a Captain from another Squad and she was a regular soldier, so they didn't have much point of contact in the first place. To go further, given that there is no way for a Shinigami to have children with a human (only Kisuke knows how), the idea that a "Shinigami may become human and produce children in the Human World" did not occur to Rukia.

Q273.

2022.01.03

I like the accessories (hats, sunglasses, etc.) and clothes that the characters are wearing in KlubOutside's Graffiti, they are exceedingly stylish. Is it possible to put them up for sale?

A273.

I will let the FC manager know about this. Totani-saaan!

Q274.

2022.01.03

Sensei, do you have any plans to publish, for instance, the yonkoma you drew for the magazine into a single book someday?

A274.

It might have been published in JET.

Q275.

2022.01.03

When you were writing BTW, who came to your mind first between Ninny and Noel?

A275.

Out of all the characters in BTW, Noel was the first.

Q276.

2022.01.03

When Rukia entered her name into the family register, it's assumed that she did not change her last name, but now that she has become a Captain, it means there will be two Captain Kuchiki, so how do the other troops distinguish between the two when addressing them? Is it possible that she will revert to the Abarai surname?

A276.

Many of the troops differentiate between them by calling them Captain Kuchiki and 13th Captain Kuchiki.

Q277.

2022.01.10

Did Zangetsu eventually return to being a single blade? The "Ten Years Later" version of Ichigo was implemented in the social game - Brave Souls, and he wielded the "Zangetsu which emerged from a broken Tensa Zangetsu" as seen in the final stages of the Thousand-Year Blood War arc. Zangetsu which was reforged into two swords for Hollow and Quincy, became one as Tensa Zangetsu in Bankai, so I thought for sure it would return to two swords once the Bankai is disengaged.

However, does this mean that Zangetsu did not return to two swords due to the fact that after activating Bankai, Ichigo's Hollow and Quincy powers were absorbed by Yhwach, and that his Bankai was damaged among other factors? Or is it that it's possible for Ichigo to wield both the dual swords and the single sword if he so desires?

It may just be game original staging to begin with, but I was intrigued.

A277.

Since I haven't described this in detail nor do I plan to portray the matter any further, I'll give you an answer. The two blades of Zangetsu are the "sword" and the "sheath". The correct form of a Zanpakutō is one that has a sheath, and there are only two swords without one: Sayafushi and Zangetsu. What fixed Zangetsu into its "correct form" is the dual swords state, and in Bankai Zangetsu is placed back in its sheath, what emerged after that sheath was shattered is the "True Zangetsu". The shattered sheath was absorbed by Ichigo, so I think he is also able to return to dual blades if he wants to, but I suppose that depends on Ichigo himself.

Q278.

2022.01.17

I've always wondered about this since reading volume 12, but was there a physical relationship between Aizen and Hinamori? I think it's more fitting for Aizen to not engage in this sort of thing, so I'm on the side that says it didn't happen.

A278.

I won't answer this because I think it'll be more fun to leave it unanswered.

Q279.

2022.01.17

Is Hōzukimaru a rare type of Zanpakutō which always requires the sheath for its Shikai.

A279.

That's right.

Q280.

2022.01.17

Kubo-sensei, when it comes to TVs, are you in favor of wall-mounted? Or do you prefer freestanding?

A280.

Mine is attached to a wall storage unit with an extendable arm.

Q281.

2022.01.24

Upon being granted a letter, does the Schrift allow abilities to manifest based on the nature of an individual? Or does His Majesty already know what they are before granting it at the epithet stage.

A281.

Yhwach can see words almost as if they were engraved on the individual's body. Those who are bestowed Schrifts, which were previously lost through death in battle and so on, are discovered from the words engraved on them and then given power.

Q282.

2022.01.24

Do Yōkai and Yōsei exist in the world of BLEACH?

A282.

It would be more fun if they did.

Q283.

2022.01.24

A color version of the BLEACH e-books exist, but does Kubo-sensei decide on the color scheme and such?

A283.

There are parts that I check and parts that I don't (I only check what my editor asks me to check), but even the parts that I do were decided upon rapidly in the intervals between my work schedule during serialization, so when I look at them afterwards, I often come to think "was this the kind of color I chose??”

Q284.

2022.01.31

Sensei, if you had the opportunity to be involved in a project in the future, what sort of creative work would you like to be involved in? (Live-action film, animated movies, manga, dramas, YouTube, etc.)

A284.

If I could get involved with the story aspect, then it would probably be a game.

Q285.

2022.01.31

If you could actually sell any kind of merchandise at the fan club shop, what kind of items would you want to sell?

A285.

Bracelets with the text from the opening poems.

Q286.

2022.01.31

Is the reason why Uryū was not affected by Auswählen connected to Uryū's grandfather?

A286.

There's a bit of a complicated setup regarding this, but it might appear in the anime adaptation of the Thousand-Year Blood War arc. (Depending on the composition.)

Q287.

2022.02.07

It has already been decided that the Thousand-Year Blood War arc is getting an anime adaptation, but will there also be an anime adaptation of the side story novels? I'd especially like to see "WE DO knot ALWAYS LOVE YOU" in the anime which depicts Rukia and Renji's marriage and the progress of Ichigo and Orihime's relationship.

A287.

Ah, I see. If there is enough room, then it may be possible.

Q288.

2022.02.07

Is it not true that Gigi is a girl? It kind of seems like Yumichika only said otherwise to provoke her.

A288.

Giselle is a man.

Q289.

2022.02.07

Who was the one to slash Rukia from behind during the first invasion by the Sternritter?

A289.

The plan is to depict this in the anime version.

Q290.

2022.02.14

Is the giant spoon used by Hikifune Kirio of Squad Zero actually her Zanpakutō?

A290.

That's correct.

Q291.

2022.02.14

During the performance of the ROCK MUSICAL BLEACH, Kubo-sensei personally talked to Tsuchiya-san, who played the role of Gin, about Gin's true intentions and purpose, as he was having a difficult time interpreting the character, and Gin's true intentions had not yet been revealed within the story at the time. I remember there was an episode which went something like that, but in so doing, did you also discuss everything which occurred with regard to Rangiku and Aizen? Also, did you not have any reluctance to divulge information which has not yet been revealed in the story?

A291.

I feel that we talked about things like how Gin viewed each character rather than the story itself. If it is necessary for the performance, then there is a possibility that I may also convey undisclosed information to the voice actors so it's not limited to this particular occasion.

Q292.

2022.02.14

Is the "table with English language BLEACH quotes suspended inside its transparent legs" which you wrote about in the cover flap comment of Volume 44, still being used? I would love to see photos of sensei's favorite furniture and more!

A292.

I use it when I'm composing my drafts at home. The tabletop is in disarray, so I hope a photo of the legs will do.

Q293.

2022.02.21

With regard to the role of a Shinigami, it involves cleansing Hollows of their sins by way of a Zanpakutō and sending them to Soul Society in peace, but was this role simply to extinguish Hollows until Nimaiya Ōetsu showed up?

A293.

It was only after the creation of the Gotei 13 that the role of a Shinigami was properly defined.

Q294.

2022.02.21

At what age did Chad get his tattoo? Was it when he moved to Mexico? Or did he get it inked in his own hometown in Okinawa? I would be grateful if you could tell us.

A294.

He got his tattoo in Mexico when he was 9 years old.

Q295.

2022.02.21

I heard that the Lost Agent of the Shinigami arc concluded earlier than planned, is that true? If so, I'd like you to tell us about the story you were actually planning to write.

A295.

You mean the rumor that I was planning to compose an episode for all the classmates but I got bored and decided against it? If so, then it's true. I feel like I mentioned that in a character book or something.

Q296.

2022.02.21

Have you ever wanted to draw Oiroke manga? (*Manga with light erotic content.)

A296.

I'm not confident that I'd be able to draw it well.

Q297.

2022.02.28

In the BLEACH PS2 game "Bleach: Erabareshi Tamashii", techniques such as "Hadō #20: Shōtenkyū" and "Hadō #26: Gōensai" made an appearance, but were these Kidō Kubo-sensei's ideas or the creations of the game staff? If it's the former, I'd also like to know how to write it in kanji!

A297.

I had no involvement with that so they're the creations of the game staff.

Q298.

2022.02.28

I really love the relationship between Ichigo and the store manager, Unagiya Ikumi, and you can sense in the air how Ichigo suddenly turns back into a child. Please tell us if there was anything you paid extra attention to when creating Ikumi-san.

A298.

Ikumi is a character that was born because I wanted to create a place for Ichigo where he could be himself outside the Kurosaki home due to a plot development, that is, the sudden loss of a place where he belongs in the Lost Agent arc.

Q299.

2022.02.28

In "BURN THE WITCH", it seems that each division is armed with a different type of weapon, but in the event that they change affiliations, like how Bruno encouraged the witches to do in the story, do they undergo training with new weapons?

A299.

They train with new weapons. It is also among the Director's faculties to ascertain an individual's suitability for a weapon and then offer an invitation to them.

Q300.

2022.03.07

Is the thing under Hisagi's left eye, tape? A tattoo perhaps?

A300.

It's a tattoo.

Translation Footnotes:

×1. 弦 means bowstring and is in both the names of Sōken (宗弦) and Ryūken (竜弦).

179 notes · View notes

thepaperpanda · 2 years ago

Text

Fondle Me || Neteyam x fem!Omaticaya reader

Summary: Your friendship with Neteyam came with a little benefit of fondling and sharing steamy kisses from time to time. Now, you are ready to take your relationship to another level

Warnings: smut & sweetness ❤🔥

Word count: 3390

Author: Rouge

A/N: prior to reading, it’s important to know that: the reader is female Omaticaya ✤ characters are aged up (Neteyam is 20, reader is 19) ✤ a few things are in Na'vi language ✤ despite being seriously injured during Skirmish at the Three Brothers, Neteyam survives ✤ you'll find a glossary underneath the fic

Divider by wonderful firefly-graphics

My first kiss is still fresh in my mind. The spring afternoon was steamy, and a deserted hut was muggy, despite the lack of doors that allowed the air to circulate. Sitting on the cot, I pondered who I would like to become in the future. In some cases, I needed time for myself, time I could spend thinking and losing myself in distant thoughts. After peeking inside, Neteyam sat next to me to ensure that I would not be alone. His prowess at finding me everywhere made it impossible for me to stay alone for too long.

As we sat and talked, we discussed everything, including our hunting classes and our teachers. Our friendship began at an early age, since his family was well known in the neighborhood. Neteyam was the first boy who truly became a friend to me. The tease he gave me was not aimed at hurting me, but rather at making me laugh or blush. His jokes suddenly came to a halt, and he looked at me in a completely different way he had never done before. Suddenly he leaned over and kissed me, just like that. It was a gentle, sweet, hesitant kiss at first, but once he was sure there was no resistance within me, his lips brushed more firmly against mine. In a soft, brushing motion, he kissed me again; Neteyam's tongue flickered over his lips and onto mine. After I sighed, he embraced me and we kissed again. Although we were both so young, only fifteen at the time, we were extremely curious about everything, especially corporeality. My mouth parted soon after, and his tongue snaked in and ran along mine. It was the first time I'd kissed anyone, and I felt my body reacting, even though I was slightly afraid. As I ran my hand through his dark hair, I felt a sense of comfort. The kiss deepened as we shifted. His hand reached down and rubbed along my breast, teasing the nipple through my clothing as I felt myself becoming wet. It was no secret to me that Neteyam's hands and mouth were turning me on. When Neteyam drew back and gazed at me intently, he traced my face with his hands before touching my lips with his slender fingers. When he stuck one in, I suckled it, and I realized I had made the right choice when I saw the look on his face: so blissful and primal. In no time at all, the finger was gone from my mouth and Neteyam kissed me once more, this time more hungrily, and I moaned into his mouth. A raised voice from his parents searching for him tore us apart faster than if someone had walked into the hut. As I jumped off my previous position, I cupped my cheeks as if I were cooling them down and wiping them off blush. As our eyes locked, we began a new chapter in our lives. We grabbed each other's hands and walked out of the abandoned hut. As we got outside, he squeezed my hand before releasing it; it was obvious that he wanted to keep a poker face so as not to draw unnecessary attention and questions, and I fully agreed with him. While waving at his mother, he walked away, somehow managing to hide his flushed expression from her. The first kiss I ever had was that one.

My memory of that moment is still vivid years later. The few moments we shared over the next few years - never extending beyond kissing and cuddling - proved that we were better as friends, regardless of how hot we felt together. Yet the more time passed, the less hesitant Neteyam became in showing his affection towards me; he wanted more, I was certain.

Neteyam pays me an unannounced visit one day and stands near my cot, watching me, completely silent.

My focus is on making arrows and I do not notice anything around me, humming a soft song my mother used to sing for me when I was a toddler.

“Y/N,” Neteyam whispers and only his tone breaks my state of thoughtfulness.

Looking up at him over my shoulder, I whimper, "Dear Eywa, you scared the hell out of me. Please don't do that again. What do you want, Net? You were on patrol with your parents, I thought.” As he places both of his hands on my shoulders, gently rubbing me with his long fingers, I stiffen. "I missed you, Y/N," he replies simply, but his voice has a dark quality to it.

I put the arrow down; my eyes are closed and I am enjoying his warmth and firmness of his touch - it is a feeling I have yearned for. I can hear a small shift behind me, and then, suddenly, I feel a hot sensation spill over the crook of my neck - his lips brush gently against my skin, leaving me breathless. “Neteyam,” I whisper, barely moving my lips.

As he bites my ear shell, he asks simply, "Don't you want to try?"

Turning my face toward him, I place one of my hands on his already flushed cheek - all I see in his eyes is an unfulfilled, primal longing. My voice is no more than a whisper as I ask, "Are you certain nobody will bust in here on us?"

"Yeah," he replies, nibbling on my earlobe once again, and I sigh profusely.

While I want to tell him this is not a good idea, the other side is far stronger - I crave him, and this craving cannot be silenced anymore. Oh shit, I think to myself after the contractions in my lower abdomen that are the pure sign of arousal building in.

It's clear that Neteyam knows exactly what he is doing to me, and his expressions make me confident he will not stop; that cocky grin of his dancing in the corners of his lips.

After resting my forehead against his for a few moments, I nod in approval. My waiting has been long, but I wanted to make sure Neteyam felt the same way about me as I did about him. On the cot, I let him lay me down; my eyes never left his.

A much-longed kiss is a real beatitude when he leans forward and starts making out with me. His hands move to the piece of clothing covering my breasts, and within the blink of an eye, he removes the piece of clothing covering them, leaving my chest bare, exposed to his hungry eyes. After undoing the strings of my loincloth, he throws it aside - now I'm completely naked in front of him and blush covers my cheeks even more. Neteyam watches my hips flexing in tiny circles as pleasure builds. As his palm brushes against my engorged clit, he cups my pussy with his hand, and I moan as my hips jerk. My soaking entrance is rimmed by his finger for a brief moment as he chuckles. I spread my legs for him as he dips his finger inside me, teasing me while my hands knead my breasts slowly. Neteyam's finger slips out soon, and he removes his hand, bringing it to his face so he can lick my juice from it before bringing it down to my mouth. Taking in a mouthful greedily, I enjoy the taste while pleasing him with my tongue and mouth.

As I cup him boldly between his legs, Neteyam's cock throbs under my hands. It feels larger than I remember, but I caress it lovingly and his eyes close as he enjoys the sensations I am bringing. His finger is finally removed from my mouth and he steps back.

I lay down, as Neteyam slowly undoes his loincloth and slips out of it, and I run my fingers along my inner thighs, caressing the outer lips of my pussy, watching him carefully. When I see his semi-hard cock, I lick my lips, and he smiles, knowing what I want.

Neteyam strokes my hair as I sit up and reach out and caress the hot velvet skin as I improve my position on the cot. It twitches and I watch it lengthens. I lick the head of his dick and he gasps. Just as I'd heard other women speak about those matters before, I swipe my tongue along his shaft while cupping one of his balls lightly in my hand. Neteyam gasps heavily.

I can't completely wrap my fingers around Neteyam's thick base as I finally suck the head fully into my mouth. Saliva runs down my chin as I fondle his balls with one hand and rub his dick with the other. I feel his hands on my head as I move my mouth back and forth, my tongue rubbing against the sensitive skin on his shaft. Before dipping down to lick his balls, I pull back and run my mouth and tongue down one side, then back up the other side of his shaft, earning a deep, animalistic grunt from him.

Grasping at my hair, Neteyam pulls me away from his balls and back to his cock.

My hands and tongue ran along his shaft, making him moan again as I sucked him in greedily. I take him in deep and suck him as I slowly pull my mouth back. I slip one of my hands down to play with my pussy, I am able to relieve the burning sensation built there already.

"Not yet," he orders firmly, taking my hand away. As I moan sadly around him in my mouth, he gasps, "Do it again, Y/N."

Neteyam's hips start to fuck at my mouth as I moan and hum for him. As my hand rubs faster and faster along the shaft, his balls begin to tighten up. I pull my mouth back to concentrate on the blood-engorged head of his cock.

He clenches his fingers around my head as he tenses up, grunting.

After the first stream of cum hits my back of the mouth, I choke for a moment, yet I swallow and continue to jack him into my mouth. My tongue pools with warm cum as he releases a few more streams. My cum-coated tongue runs along the highly sensitive head of Neteyam's dick while he moans and shakes, just for me. A few more spurts and he finishes cumming. Before I pull away, I lick his cum from my mouth and scoop up a few drops of it with one of my fingers as I doe-eye him, smiling innocently.

Using his finger, he wipes off the last drop of cum from the corner of my mouth and smears it across my lips. In the same way he kissed me the first time, Neteyam bends down and pulls me to my feet, licking my lips with his tongue.

Suddenly, my pussy twitches as his tongue licks up his own cum and dives into my mouth, slowly dancing with mine.

He gently pushes me back to the cot, murmuring, "Sit down." When I follow his command, he kneels down in front of me.

As his hands sweep down my legs, they are lifted up and thrown over his shoulders. My labia were lightly skimmed by his fingertips as they traced along the inside of my thighs. His breath runs through the sticky wetness of my arousal as he leans forward and breathes in deeply. I feel my hips buck slightly as his breath triggers my senses.

As Neteyam holds my hips still, he says lowly, "Easy. Mmmm, I love your scent, oeyä 'eve."

My senses are set ablaze by his words, so I whimper. I feel and hear him inhale the scent of my arousal, as if savoring it. Neteyam's tongue snakes out to scoop up the moisture gathered on the outer lips of my pussy before I can catch my breath. As he continues to lap, he hits all of my sensitive spots except the one I want him to lick; I moan loudly, closing my eyes. The pulse in my head, heart and clit is pounding as his tongue works its way between my folds and rim along the outer edge of my hot pussy, pushing in. Neteyam's nose barely brushes my clit, and I whimper as his tongue licks up inside me. I writhe on the cot as he giggles and pulls back. "Rutxe," I beg.

I can feel a tremor running through me as Neteyam asks, "Please what?" His voice is rough from arousal. "I want your tongue to fondle my cunt," I moan helplessly, grasping my nipples and pinching them hard.

Again, he chuckles as he presses his face back to my hot pussy, attacking my clit and making me shriek and moan as his teeth gently nibble it before he begins to suck on it, then I feel him inserting two fingers into me, stroking my velvety inner walls. He moves his mouth lower and his thumb strokes the highly sensitive nubbin as his tongue enters me again and again.

My orgasm peaks as Neteyam takes my hot clit into his mouth and sucks on it again, then begins to hum, sending shivers throughout my body - then I start to shudder. While my hips lift off the cot and I cry, I can feel my eyes roll back from the unbearable pleasure. It takes a few minutes for me to recover from that, as he lightly licks and nibbles at my pussy still, his eyes never leave my flushed face. As I finally stop shaking, he kisses his way up my slender body, nestling himself at the apex of my legs. I reach down and take Neteyam's cock in my hand - he's hot and hard again.

It's Neteyam's turn to moan as I rub the head of his cock along my slick clit; my body shivers in response, my lips parted as I watch his blissful expression. He takes my hand away and replaces it with his own when my juices coat the head of his cock. My legs wrap around Neteyam’s waist and help him slide deeper in as he guides his dick deep into me. Upon reaching the end, he lets out a husky grunt.

There has never been anyone who has filled me with as much as he does. The pulse of his body throbs in tangent to mine. My hips flex and Neteyam smiles before pulling out slowly. When his penis slips out, he bites his lower lip a little, then pushes in all the way back in with one powerful move.

As he continues pushing in followed by slowly, agonizingly pulling out, the feeling and sensation within me grow more intense.

My voice is breathy, "Nì'ul, Neteyam!"

A look of concern crosses his face as he looks down at me, stopping.

I doe-eye him while running the tip of my tongue along the bottom of my parted lips as my hair is spilled on the cot, my nipples are dark and hard, and my body is flushed with desire.

Even though he's already aware of the answer, Neteyam asks, "What do you want me to do, little one?"

"Fuck me," I plead, "I want you to fuck me, to possess me, to claim me yours."

With a dark chuckle, Neteyam picks up the pace, soon pounding into me hard; the cot is rocking back and forth with the rhythm of Neteyam's powerful thrusts. Upon hearing my moan, he dips his head down to bite and lick my nipples. Neteyam gasps and takes one of them into his mouth, sucking hard; I cry out and rake my nails along his back, leaving red marks on his sweaty skin. He shudders and moans. In order to grind his hipbone against my clit, Neteyam pushes into me as hard as he can, grunting sharply. As my hips twitch towards his, I pull him down for a hot, tongue-filled kiss. Once again, Neteyam picks up his pace; he rubs my calf with the free hand as he leans into the other one, frowning at the painful throbbing on his cock. “Y/N… Fuck, I-I can’t any longer…” With one arm around his neck, I pull him closer, and the other I wrap around his waist. I whisper, "Cum for me," directly into his ear. "Your seed in me is what I want, yawntutsyìp."

I watch Neteyam's facial expression changes as he begins to come. "Ma Eywa! Sran!" “Neteyam! ” I yell as my fingers work on my clit, rubbing it viciously and bringing the most intense orgasm to me. The first spurt of his cum lands inside my hot, clenching pussy and milks my inner walls. Neteyam pulls out of me quickly and he lands another one on my abdomen. More cum spurts and oozes out as he straightens up and strokes himself rapidly.

Watching me lean over for a soft kiss, he lies on his side. "It was fucking amazing," Neteyam murmurs. As his breath still needs to be calmed, he allows me to rest my head against his chest that rises and falls rapidly.

I lightly trace the edges of the old bullet wound left on his chest with one finger. "I'm glad you're with me, and that you're safe. I thought I had lost you then..."

Neteyam grabs the blanket situated nearby and covers us both. Taking my palm in his hands, he places a kiss on its surface. "Don't think about it anymore, Y/N. Nga yawne lu oer.” In the end, he turns me onto my side and spoons up behind me, and we fall asleep together; his warm breath bathing the back of my neck, sending some shivers down my spine.

I woke up some time later, alone. Taking a slow look around my hut, I find no sign of Neteyam; the only thing that reminds me of him is the sex scent filling the air. Whenever I think of Neteyam, I either smile or just sigh, feeling the warmth spreading throughout my body.

All of a sudden, my attention is drawn to something neatly wrapped in a piece of cloth lying beside my bed. A slight frown crosses my forehead as I slowly stand, tightening the blanket around my figure and picking the thing up to examine it closely. It is a handmade necklace decorated with lortsyal's wings - it's a fine piece of craftsmanship. My lips part slowly, and I exhale deeply, covering them with my curled hand. Gifting clothing or jewelry to someone means keeping them close to one's heart; it is a widely practiced act. Therefore, Neteyam has the same feelings for me as I do for him, I think to myself as I cradle the necklace close to my chest. I have never received a gift as beautiful as this one. With a smile I look in the darkest corner of my hut. A waytelem I made for myself gleams in the dim light of the eclipse while hanging on the wall. As I think about adding a bead to it, the bead telling the story of my relationship with Neteyam, a smile spreads across my lips. Although we aren't officially mated, I know Neteyam treats me genuinely and seriously. “Ma Eywa, please hear me out,” I whisper to myself, offering my sincerest prayers to our Great Mother. “The depths of my heart are filled with love for him. Please, please allow me to become his other half, Great Mother.” While I pray quietly, at the gleaming stars above, I don't realize curious eyes are watching me the entire time. I come quiet when I hear my cot cracking, and I smile to myself as I recognize the smell as my nose twitches - it's Neteyam's strong scent feeling my nostrils.

Curling my lips in a tiny smile, I turn to him slowly.

A warm smile spreads across his face as he silently invites me to join him, and I am delighted to do so. After wrapping me in his strong arms, he rubs my back and shoulders in long-lasting strokes. “Oeyä narlor ‘eve,” Neteyam whispers, kissing all over my face.

There is only one thing I know at that moment: I never want to part with him. For that, I'm willing to sell my soul.

Glossary:

oeyä narlor ‘eve - my beautiful girl

oeyä ‘eve - my girl

yawntutsyìp - darling

Ma Eywa - o Eywa

nga yawne lu oer - I love you

nì'ul - more

sran - yes (colloquial)

rutxe - please

lortsyal - shimmyfly

waytelem - songcord

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e-the-village-cryptid · 5 months ago

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I can't stop thinking about how utterly alone Bix is. Even surrounded by the tight-knit community of Ferrix, she is so isolated and lonely in terms of actual human connection.

As far as we can tell, she has no family. She's not older than her late 20s, but her parents are implied to be dead, seeing as she inherited their salyard. She's been running the place on her own for years, hired Timm a little while ago, started dating him probably since she's so busy she doesn't even have the time to meet anyone else. She avoids him as much as possible, she doesn't tell him anything about her life, and she only comes and finds him when she's been drinking and she can't sleep, uses him more as a distraction than a companion.

Her relationship with Cassian, once so close in their youth, has become strained and distant and he only shows up every few months, only when he needs to ask a favor. And in response, she pushes him away too, rejects his attempts to ignore the distance that's grown between them, not with any bitterness or anger, just a deep, exhausted sadness.

She smiles and greets her neighbors as she walks by, but the smile drops as soon as she passes. They all know her, but they don't know her, really.

Salman Paak knows the most about her operation, but even he doesn't know the details. He's not really involved; Bix was the only one to use the radio, and Salman met Luthen only once, then turned the operation over to Bix. Bix and Salman have a friendship that extends beyond just business, but they hardly ever get to talk; the first thing he says when Bix walks into his shop in episode one is that he hasn't seen her lately. She has ties to Brasso and Maarva and others in the community as well, but hardly sees them either.

Whenever we see her, she's perpetually in motion, always busy, always worried, always finding something to do with her hands, or somewhere to go, always having to do something, just to avoid the prospect of being still with her thoughts. She keeps moving to avoid that terrible quiet, keeps the noise dialed up as much as possible, just staying ahead of that crushing loneliness that envelops her life even when she's surrounded by people.

And of course, that's just the beginning.

She may not be thriving, but she's surviving, she's holding herself together, she's keeping an iron grip on whatever stability she can find in her life. But then— Timm's betrayal. And before she has time to process that, his lifeless body is tumbling down the steps before her eyes, and she can't reach him, and she's alone, and there's blood in her eyes and her head is spinning with a fresh concussion, and she's alone, and he's dead, and she's alone.

But eventually the Paaks find her and release her and drag her away and she drags herself up and cleans up the mess and tries to piece the shards of her life back together. And when Cassian shows up at her door, even knowing how dangerous it is, how the whole city is crawling with soldiers looking for him, she can't summon urgency or anger or fear. She's just too exhausted. There's only tiredness in her voice when she tells him he can't be here, only blunt resignation as she tells him of the dangers, only sadness and bone-deep exhaustion at this same distance, this same pattern, as he leaves again.

So she keeps going. And she takes care of Maarva and Maarva is dying but she takes care of Maarva and she tries to contact Cassian to tell him and she knows it's a hopeless, dangerous mission but she does it anyway. And so she's cut off from her only off-world connection as the radio is shut down forever, set adrift, but there's no time to think about it, because then she's being dragged into an interrogation room. And there's Salman, tortured and unconscious, being dragged away for execution, and the guilt is enormous, it's all her fault, but how could she have known that the punishment for owning a radio, just owning a radio that someone else used, would be to be tortured and killed, but of course it's still all her fault and the guilt is consuming but there's no time to feel it, she locks it away as she locks eyes with Dedra, channeling everything into the defiance she'll need to make it through this.

But there's no making it through this. There's no way to maintain her resistance or her dignity or even her mind and body, not as they were before. And when she's been alone with this torment for weeks, when can hardly stand, can hardly speak, her only solace is the distant beat of a funeral drum and the words of a dead friend. And then she's on a ship away from the only community she's ever known, her and Brasso and Wilmon and Bee and Jezzi all together but all alone, not looking at one another, not speaking to one another, just exhausted, just processing more than anyone could process in a lifetime.

And now what? Even as she heals physically, even as she can walk and speak again and begin to look forward, how can she possibly explain what she's been through? This torture that no one has heard of before, that left no marks save for the deep scars on her psyche, that sounds so implausible she almost questions the reality of it all herself. How can she possibly explain? Would they even believe her? What if they don't believe her? What if they don't understand? Or maybe it's even worse if they do, if they look at her with pity, if they treat her like she's fragile, if they speak to her like they don't quite know what to say.

Where can she go? She has to go back to Ferrix, there's no other option, she feels the pull of those ties that can never be broken. And yet, even with that deep need to return, what is there to return to? Most of the people she cared about there are dead. The idea of rebuilding her old life is almost laughable, how could anything ever be normal again? Could she even be normal again? This mind, this body hardly feel like her own now.

And yet one thing is always unchanging: she is still alone, always alone, just the same as before.

#made myself cry thinking about this last night so now you all have to experience it too #bix caleen #andor #an e original

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jellycrusher · 1 year ago

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Wolves and Lambs: Part 1

Alpha Max Verstappen x Omega fem!driver

Genre: Series, Omega verse, Enemies to Lovers, Romance, Eventual smut

Synopsis: Male Alphas are the ones who dominate motor sports all around the world, especially Formula 1. It is a well known fact. Females in general nor Female Omegas are never heard nor encouraged to join the sport since the 1950s. Well, up until now...

Word Count: 2.4k

Chapter's Premise: "How could I forget? The reckless rookie during FP1. Almost crashed into me."

Parts: W&L masterlist / general masterlist

"How does it feel to be the only female alpha here on the grid?" The reporter extends his mic to you during the last press conferences on the last F2 Grand Prix in Abu Dhabi.

Here we go again. "It doesn't feel any different. Everybody here puts out their all when racing and I do that too. Outside of race week, I could say that they're like my younger brothers. It's fun."

"Congratulations again for your promotion to Formula 1 for the next season. Do you have any expectations? Any goals coming in to next year?" At least this reporter is not sexist unlike the others.

"I have been the test driver for Aston Martin for almost two years now. I'm grateful that I've been given the seat alongside Fernando Alonso. Any expectations? I've seen how hard everyone works back in the factory. I hope we develop a better race-winning car. My goal is definitely to win a Grand Prix." You can't help but smile at the thought that your next career move is inching closer and closer now.

"Thank you very much. That's y/n y/l/n, everyone. Your 2023 F2 World Champion." You bid goodbye to the reporter while your Press Officer ushers you to the next reporter.

After your meeting with the Aston Martin Team, your assistant tugs your shirt to signal you to walk to Mike Krack, the team principal.

"Here comes our favorite female driver!" He enthusiastically opens up his arms to welcome you in a tight hug. "Are you ready for the next season?"

"All good. I'm itching to jump in the car and drive." You chuckle as he release you from the hug.

"Hello sir. I just would like to go through something with you." Megan, your assistant, clears her throat which caught the attention of your new team principal. "I just informed y/n that you are aware of her true classification. I want to know how do we handle it from here."

You freeze in your spot as you observe Mike's face. It was astounding that your team principal is still very much determined to add you to the lineup despite knowing that you are not an Alpha, rather an Omega. He assures that he didn't care about it but what he looks for in a driver is talent, grit, and passion.

All your former team in F3 and F2 were never made aware of this fact, even until now. You never had a problem with this secret since your heat haven't arrived yet. At 25, you were considered a very late-bloomer, Normally, one would have their first heat at around 17-20 years old. If you were asked, you prefer it to never arrive at all. Better that way, at least it won't affect you during your races if ever it comes unexpectedly.

Ultimately, you had to force your manager to be upfront with Mike Krack. She was hesitant at first but you knew it was inevitable. The first one is always unpredictable and is affected by your emotions. It's better if your contract stays intact and won't be affected by it.

"We'll keep it under wraps. Limit the people within our team. I know a few people in the media so if this gets out, we can control it. I'll do everything that I can to keep a talent such as yours." Mike pats your back as he noticed you keeping quiet at Megan's side.

It's a wonder that you were able to keep it a secret up until now. It's not that it's forbidden to have Omegas as drivers in motorsport. There were a few male Omegas and only one female Omega before. She drove for one season and retired on the next. It was a very brief stint. Since then, no female omegas were ever able to climb up to Formula 1. Well, not until you but it's a secret. For now.

Of course you want to make a name for yourself. Not just being the first female driver since the 50s but a female Omega. It's something to be proud of. Although, majority of the people are still against it and will surely doubt your talent before they even see it.

Most of the people in the paddock that are either managers, mechanics, presenters, race engineers, and PR officers are almost all Betas and a few are only Omegas; just to name a few. The drivers and team principals are almost entirely Alphas.

You remember Megan mentioned that two of the drivers on the 2024 grid are Omegas but you forgot the names. Well, she also painfully reminded you to keep your classification a secret from them so forgetting who's who is not actually a bad thing.

Back in your F3 and F2 days, whenever Alpha drivers would argue with each other and get rowdy, you could literally feel the effects within you. Shivers down to your spine, tightening chest, trembling hands. Used to having that kind of physical effect on you during those situations, you would just avoid any altercations with any of them.

You were dubbed "The Lamb" of the paddock, being the calm and collected driver out of all of them. In contrast to your nickname, you were like a wolf when you put on the helmet. You would obliterate every driver during every race, herding them to the side.

"I look forward racing alongside our new driver." You, Megan, and Mike swiftly turned your head towards one direction. The sight of the Spanish driver smiling made you freeze. "I've seen your lap times during one of the test drives at Silverstone. It's been the talk of the factory. You almost beat Max's record lap time on the track."

He's definitely an Alpha. The Alpha aura that the two time world champion exudes is definitely nerve-racking. Any other Omega should've felt this when they met him, for sure. It's good that you're used to being around Alphas that it's not obvious in your body language that you were affected.

You bumped fists with Alonso. "Let's not forget the impression you left on the other drivers on FP1 back in Abu Dhabi GP when 11 rookies joined the practice for the Driver Development Program. You drove my AMR23 like a beast and you were the only rookie who was able to put their car in the top 10. In P3, at that." Alonso chuckles, reminding him how the team radios of other drivers went when you were passing them on the track, as broadcasted.

"Thank you sir. Just wanted to show everyone who they might compete against." you replied.

"Oh you most definitely did." he smirks.

It was a comfortable welcome within Aston Martin. Even Lance Stroll, who took a break from Formula 1 to recover from his injuries due to a career-changing incident, worked with you and Alonso to work out the kinks in the car. Being the son of Lawrence Stroll, he won't leave his son out in Formula 1 in any kind of way. Plus, Lance is a familiar face back in karting days so his presence actually helps.

Days pass and it all felt like a blur. You were practically living in the factory when you made certain to be as hands-on as possible with the development of the car. When you sat in the car for almost 2 hours for the seat fitting, Megan basically bribed the other engineers to let you rest for once. The other employees nearby were laughing because Megan was pushing the other engineers away that you were hollering to come to you.

Come February, the day of the AMR24 reveal. It was the first event where you donned your green race suit in front of everyone. In the backstage, Fernando could notice the tenseness painting your face. Lance was also there with you two waiting. He smacked your back so hard that you almost cursed at him, warranting a loud laugh from Fernando.

The welcoming party for the F1 teams was held in Bahrain on the third week of February, just a few days before pre-season testing. Lance and Fernando accompanied you to a ballroom decorated elegantly from the floor to the ceiling where waiters are walking around to give hors d'oeuvres and champagne to people basically in dapper suits and sparkling dresses at every turn. F1 events never disappoint.

You gently push Lando and Fernando to leave you and to go mingle with sponsors and other people they know. Laughing at how close you got to the two drivers just after a few months of working with them. Fernando felt like a mentor and a father, while Lance felt like an annoying brother.

Multiple Alphas gathering in one venue is hurting your nose and making your head spin. As a temporary refuge, you occupy an empty seat at the bar and ordered an Amaretto Sour. It didn't take you two sips before somebody with a mild Alpha scent sits next to you. You look at the man through your periphery. Unruly hair so brown with soft curls and a gummy smile.

"Nervous on your first event?" he says, sliding his drink close to him after the bartender hands it out.

"Hm?" You swiftly turn your head at the man, still taking a sip from your drink.

"You're y/n, right? Aston Martin? I'm Lando Norris. I'm just wondering why a gorgeous woman like you is alone here at the bar?" he replies.

"Nice to meet you!" You offer your hand out to the Mclaren Driver and he shakes it. "Big events like this is not my thing. I'm just charging up my social battery right now. Fernando and Lance will likely pull me later to meet with our sponsors." You add while taking another sip to help mask the overwhelming scent of the venue.

"Tell me about it. It's an introvert's worse nightmare." Another man with an Australian accent pops up beside Lando, wrapping his arm on the man's shoulder. "I'm Oscar Piastri. Nice to meet you!"

Lando and Oscar turns out to be such a fun company to be with. They even introduced you to some of the drivers that were not so busy socializing with VIPs and sponsors; like Yuki Tsunoda, Daniel Ricciardo, Pierre Gasly, Esteban Ocon, Alexander Albon, and Logan Sargeant.

Lando was about to call Charles and Max when he spotted them from afar but you were quickly pulled away by Lance to do some rubbing shoulders with your team's sponsors.

"Hey! Why did you call me?" Charles pats Lando's back then proceeds to greet the others gathered around at the bar.

"I was going to introduce you to someone but Lance swept her away." Lando scoffs as he greets Max, who appeared behind Charles.

Max and Charles search the crowd for Lance and eventually spots the man with a gorgeous girl at his side in an emerald green long dress. "Remember the driver who got P3 in FP1 when we were in Abu Dhabi?" says Lando to the two men staring at your side profile while you were busy smiling and mingling with older men.

"Y/n Y/l/n, right? Aston Martin?" Charles said, still can't peel his eyes away from you.

"How could I forget? The reckless rookie during FP1. Almost crashed into me." Max sneers, turns back at the bar and orders a drink.

"Come on mate. Like you were not? You were too aggressive at that FP1. You drove like you were racing with us already. Even overtaking at the pit lane exit." Charles lightly slapped his hand on Max's chest, earning a laugh from him and Lando.

"Still. At the end of the day, she was too eager to prove herself that it came off as reckless." Max takes the drink that he ordered and turns back around to his fellow drivers.

"Come on, you were like that when we were young. Remember our inCHIdent?" Charles, Lando, and even Pierre and Alex laughed so hard at the mention of the adorable memory of Charles and Max's rivalry when they were young.

"Maybe you're just nervous that someone might be able to finally de-throne you from your seat, your majesty?" Lando chuckles.

"We'll see at the pre-season testing if she's all bark and no bite." says Max, staring at you like you're a lamb in a wolf hunt.

"The new season of Formula 1 is just around the corner. But before the lights go out in Bahrain, you'll see all teams hit the track in three rigorous pre-season testing days. It's the first chance to see how this season is shaping up."

It was so surreal to see your driver number 13 in big font on the side of your AMR24. This is the dream and it all starts with the pre-season testing. With only just one car per team to be allowed per day, it was decided that you will drive on the first and second day, and Fernando on the third day.

You could say that it was a bit difficult on the first day. The car was superb and fast, except for the porpoising. After driving almost 150 laps with all the porpoising and understeer, your back felt like cracked uncooked noodles. The makeshift bed in your room in the garage basically inviting you to sprawl down on it. Thankfully, the car got better on the second day.

Everyone was so busy to improve everything on the car that you barely mingled with anyone outside of your team. Even on the third day where Fernando was out on track, you were still discussing with the engineers on what to improve and what strategies to use on the first race in Bahrain a week from now.

After the pre-season testing, Megan made sure to empty out at least two days in your schedule to give you a break. You woke up at around 11 am and went down to the hotel lounge to spend some time reading. Oscar was about to go to the hotel restaurant but stopped when he saw you.

"What are you reading?" You looked up behind you when you heard a voice and saw Oscar in casual clothes.

"Nothing. Just something to pass the time." You replied as Oscar takes up the couch beside you. "Are you about to have lunch?"

"Yeah. Just waiting for Lando." said Oscar, keeping his eyes on you. Oscar paused for a moment, contemplating on continuing his train of thought. "I'm curious so I'm just gonna ask it now."

"What?" you ask, closing your book.

"Why are you hiding that you are an Omega?"

Next part: Part 2

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uncharismatic-fauna · 5 months ago

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Slip on the Common Slipper Limpet

The common slipper limpet, also known as the boat shell or the fornicating slipper snail (Crepidula fornicata) is a species of sea snail native to the North American coast of the Atlantic Ocean. In addition, it has been introduced to the eastern coasts of Europe and parts of the Pacific Northwest and Japan. They can reside in a variety of habitats including bays, estuaries, island shores, and rocky intertidal zones; their maximum depth tolerance is 70m (229 ft).

Fornicating slipper snails are noted for their unique mating methods. Adults typically live stacked on top of each other, with up to 12 to 14 individuals in a group. The largest, and oldest adults are at the bottom of the stack, while the younger, smaller adults are at the top. C. fornicata is a sequential hermaphrodite; new adults are all male, and will change into females as they get older or if they become the oldest in a stack of all males.

Breeding can occur between Februrary and October, although the peak season is in May or June. Unlike other marine mollusks, which are broadcast spawners, the common slipper limpet utilizes internal fertilization. The male closest to the female at the bottom extends his penis under her shell and fertilize up to 11000 eggs. These eggs hatch after about 3-4 weeks, and the planktonic larvae are released into the water. These larvae take 4-5 weeks to develop into juveniles, at which point they settle either on bare rock or on top of an established limpet chain. If it settles in isolation, the young adult immediately changes into a female; if it settles on a chain, it remains a male. Adults can live on these chains for up to 6 years.

Adult boat shells are rather small, ranging in length from 20–50 mm (0.7-1.9 in). The shell is distinctly arched, with a flat underside that gives it a slipper-like appearance. The shell can be white, pink, or yellow with red or brown streaks; older adults are often covered in algal growth.

Conservation status: The common slipper limpet has not been evaluated by the IUCN. Although they are commonly harvested for food, populations are considered stable. Outside its native range, this species is considered invasive and harmful to other limpet snails.

If you like what I do, consider buying me a ko-fi!

Photos

Dr Keith Hiscock

Sytske Dijksen

#common slipper limpet #Littorinimorpha #Calyptraeidae #slipper snails #limpets #gastropods #mollusks #invertebrates #marine fauna #marine invertebrates #intertidal fauna #intertidal invertebrates #coasts #coastal invertebrates #atlantic ocean #queer animals #queer fauna #nature is queer

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likeadevils · 9 months ago

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Reputation Timeline

This is a very long post that puts all the songs on Reputation in order of Taylor creating them. I’ve also included a few other songs she worked on while writing rep and quotes from Taylor and her collaborators talking about her process.

If you don't want to read all that, check out this playlist of the album in order or this playlist of her entire discography.

I’ve also added this color coded scale of how sure I am of the date:

Confirmed: There is some type of official source for the date

Inferring: Nobody has officially said “This is when we wrote it,” but all available evidence points to that date

Speculation: This date is based off pure vibes and guesswork and is highly likely to change.

Unknown: All that is known is the year (from the US Copyright Offices

February 13, 2015: Taylor's interview with Vogue is published (likely conducted on January 14/15).

"I don’t worry that I haven’t started the next record yet. I don’t worry that I don’t know what it’s going to be. I’m not worried that I have absolutely no timetable as to when it needs to be done. It could be two years from now; it could be three, it could be four. Or it could be one. You get these bursts of inspiration right at the moment you’re not expecting to. You just have to live your life, and hopefully you’ll take the right risks."

March 2, 2015: Taylor is photographed leaving a studio. (Note: I can not find a place that specifies if this is a recording studio, dance, photography, radio, or television studio).

May 20, 2015: Taylor's interview with Marie Claire is published (likely conducted two months beforehand).

Taylor is not even sure she'll have made another album by the time 2020 rolls around. "I'm not going to put out an album until I've made one that's better than this one and that's going to be really hard," she says. And how might her music evolve if she does find love? "If that does happen, I think I could find complexity in happiness," she says. "I don't think anything's ever simple. Just because you're happy in a relationship doesn't mean there aren't moments of confusion or frustration or loneliness or sadness. Hopefully, if I ever find some sort of meaningful relationship, I'll be able to still find inspiration, just through everyday ups and downs."

October 7, 2015: Taylor is photographed leaving a recording studio in New York.

November 13, 2015: Taylor's interview with Vogue Australia is published (likely conducted two months beforehand).

Every two years since 2006 she has released an album, followed by a tour, then moved onto the next one. But her latest album, 1989, might change plans a bit. “This album has produced more number ones than any album in the past, so we’re just going to go with it,” she says, going on to explain how the usual album cycle could be extended. “Then I’ll feel like I’ll need to give people a breather from me because at a certain point they’re going to get a little sick of hearing about me, so I’ll need to go away for a while then, depending on my gauge on how sick of me they are, I’ll decide when to put out the next album.” [...] “I’ve been learning every single day what the right amount of sharing [of her personal life] is, and lately it’s been not natural because this album is such a snapshot of my life – it was so vivid, direct and honest.”

April 20, 2016: Taylor interview with Vogue is published (conducted in February).

So what the hell are you going to do with the rest of your life, Taylor Swift? “I have no idea,” she says, with a sigh that’s more blissful than anxious. “This is the first time in ten years that I haven’t known. I just decided that after the past year, with all of the unbelievable things that happened . . . I decided I was going to live my life a little bit without the pressure on myself to create something.” Do not freak: Swift is not abandoning making music. Those who know her know this is chemically impossible. (“Her not being creative is one of the last things I’d ever worry about,” the musician and producer Jack Antonoff tells me later.) “I’m always going to be writing songs,” Swift says. “The thing is, with me, I could very well come up with three things in the next two weeks and then jump back into the studio, and all of a sudden the next record is started. That’s an option, too.” But probably not for the moment.

August 29, 2016: Taylor writes in her diary "This summer is the apocalypse."

Gorgeous: Sep. 1-5, 16, 17, 19 (Confirmed)

In the Making of a Song video, Taylor is seen wearing this outfit in her Nashville apartment, which dates the song to September 17. From there, the rest of the dates are just math.

King of My Heart: Sep. 6, 19, 20, 21 (Confirmed)

In the Making of a Song video, Taylor is seen wearing the same outfit in the Gorgeous video and the KOMH video. It's also the same outfit as a video she later posted to The Swift Life (RIP) where she talked about how excited she was to be working after a long break.

September 9, 2016: Gigi Hadid says "You know, [Taylor] is starting to go back to work in the studio again."

I Don't Wanna Live Forever: Early Oct. (Speculation)

In a teaser for the Making of a Song series, Taylor is seen in an unfamiliar outfit (black mesh top) with bleached hair and a thin gold choker that she was fond of in October 2016. She is not wearing her silver J pendant, which she got as a 27th birthday present (Dec 13, 2016). IDWLF is the only song with no video footage that was written in 2016. I don't recognize the studio in the clip, but she recorded IDWLF with Jack Antonoff, who is based in New York. Taylor was on the east coast until October 22nd, and was seen in New York between October 11-13.

Delicate: Oct. 24-26 (Speculation)

Taylor is seen wearing the aforementioned thin gold choker, with her post Sep. 24 haircut (straight across bangs instead of a side part). Since she normally goes into the studio with Max Martin and Shellback with a few ideas, and creates multiple songs during their sessions, I'm inclined to group this song with IDSB and place it in late October.

I Did Something Bad: Oct. 14, 27 (Confirmed)

In the Making of a Song video, at 4:18 you can spot a gold temporary tattoo on the inside of her wrist, similar to ones she was wore at Drake’s Birthday Party on October 23. Since she is seen working until sundown (She leaves LA on October 28) and had to be in Nashville 13 days priar (She was seen in New York City until the 13), October 14 and 27th are the only dates that make sense.

January 3, 2017: Taylor writes in her diary "I get all scared about the future because so much has changed in the last year of my life. I mean this time last year I was living in LA, getting ready for Grammys and now, I’m essentially based in London, hiding out trying to protect us from the nasty world that just wants to ruin things. We have been together and no one has found out for 3 months now. I want it to stay that way because I don’t want anything about this to change or become too complicated or intruded upon. But it’s senseless to worry about someday not being happy when I am happy now. Ok. Breathe."

Don't Blame Me: Jan. 10, 11, 12 (Inferring)

Taylor is seen wearing a similar jacket as she was papped wearing on the 11th in the Making of a Song video. (This is pure speculation on my part, but the mood also seems to be a bit lower than on other days). We know she was in LA around this time “for work.”

Dancing With Our Hands Tied: Jan. 11 (Confirmed)

This post explains the situation pretty well. There are multiple accounts of what seems to be a similar story. January 11th one of two times she is seen leaving the gym after a long paparazzi dry spell, the other being in July. Seeing as the song is produced by Max Martin, who is located in LA, and the July pictures are in New York, I’m inclined to agree with the original source.

Dress: Late January/Early February 2017 (Speculation)

Jack Antonoff: “Dress is my second favorite [from Reputation]. It's the first one we made for it." Taylor was mostly based in London in early 2017, but there’s two times we know she was in the states. The first is in early January, when Taylor was in California working with Max Martin and Shellback. The second time is in late January/early February, when she was in Nashville preparing for Super Saturday Night. My guess is this was written in Late January, mostly because she was on the east coast, but theoretically she could've done it earlier in the month, or even later in the year.

Look What You Made Me Do: Late January/Early February 2017 (Speculation)

In promos for the Making of a Song Video, as well as in Miss Americana, Taylor is seen with straight hair and her J initial necklace (dating the song to post-Dec 13, 2016). Her hairstyle (the deep side part) is very Mid-2016. For most of 2017, she seems to favor the straight across braids with strands on the side. Long story short (ha), the hair makes me what to put this as early in the timeline as possible. We know Taylor was on the east coast (specifically Nashville) in early February, preparing for Super Saturday Night.

New Years Day: 2017 (Unknown)

There isn’t any footage of this, but Jack Antonoff has said that it came together fairly quickly and unexpectedly while they were hanging out at his house.

...Ready For It?: May 2017 (Speculation)

In promos for the Making of a Song series, as well as Miss Americana, Taylor is seen with curly hair, her J necklace, and not her Sapphire Evil Eye Ring, which starts showing up on June 27th (We don’t know exactly when or why she got the sapphire ring). . Since the song partially focuses on whether or not her lover is ready for the media frenzy that surrounds dating her, I’m inclined to place this song in May, when her and Joe’s relationship leaked to the press. The song was recorded in Sweden, and we can assume she was in Europe between May 15 and June 1, 2017. (That being said, we can assume she is in Europe for most of the first half of 2017).

Call It What You Want: June 2017 (Speculation)

In the Making of a Song series, Taylor is seen with straight hair, her J necklace, and not her sapphire evil eye ring. Once again, I am tempted to put this after her relationship leaked to the press, probably in early June (She is in the states on the 1st and 3rd, and probably leaves sometime in mid-June).

End Game: Mid July (Confirmed)

Ed Sheeran has said that the song was written around July 14th, while he was playing in Connecticut and Taylor was in Rhode island. Ed: End Game was written - I was playing Mohegan Sun in Connecticut, and she has a place in Rhode Island, which isn't too far. So she hits me up like, 'I know you're in Connecticut, come around.' I go around, she plays me some of what turned out to be reputation, and plays me this End Game, and I was like 'Man, I really like this. Can I do a verse? Can I do a rap verse?' And she was like, 'Yeah, for sure!' So the next day, I remember, I was in bed, and woke up and got my laptop out, put the song, just looped it, wrote this verse, and I went in with Max Martin, who she did the song with, and recorded it. Then Future did a verse, and then Taylor wrote a verse and we did the video.

Getaway Car: July 2017 (Speculation)

In the Making of a Song series, Taylor is seen with curly hair, her J necklace, and her sapphire evil eye ring, placing the song sometime shortly before/after June 27th. We know she was in the states for most of July, and in New York City on the 17th and 24th.

This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things: July 2017 (Speculation)

In the Making of a Song series, Taylor is seen with straight hair, her J necklace, and her sapphire evil eye ring. For all the same reasons as Getaway Car, this song was probably recorded in July. The exact order of Getaway Car and TIWWCHNT is probably impossible for anyone not involved in the making of the song to know. I could see arguments for either order, but Taylor has said that reputation is in fairly chronological order, I’m putting it in order of tracklist.

So It Goes: September 2017 (Inferring)

Oscar Görres, a cowritter on the song, said he got a call from Max Martin, Shellback, and Taylor asking to use his track after he’d just had a child. According to social media, he had a daughter in 2015 and a son in September of 2017. The interview is a bit confusing, timeline-wise. On one had, Görres says “I’d just become a father,” but then he implies that Max and Shellback had already completed most of the album. (For context, English isn’t his first language). Personally, I believe the believe the September 2017 date. Multiple sessioners have said Taylor said all songs on the album were about her relationship with Joe, and the tracklists in the reputation magazines are out of order, suggesting a late change. Taylor has has also been known to add a song to the album incredibly last minute— most notably Forever & Always on Fearless, but also with Death By A Thousand Cuts on Lover, which had to have been written post April 20, 2019 (but that's for another album).

And that's all for this timeline! Check out my others:

TIMELINES: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights PLAYLISTS: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights • entire discography GENERAL: tag

#txt*#timeline*#taylor swift #sure let’s do it tonight why not

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