#it’s just... there are so many more qualities...

[realcube]

— GOONER! FANBOY! KENMA

tws & tags ;; nsfw. mdni. camgirl! reader. filming. objectification. vaginal. oral (f! receiving). praise. light impact play. light daddy kink. body worship. squirting — hcs into long fic (wc: 5.6k) part one.

GOONER! FANBOY! KENMA who keeps track of your viewership and subscriber trends more than you do.

FANBOY! KENMA who is, hence, the first to notice your uneasy sub count and lower-than-usual engagement. of course, being a famous streamer himself, he is familiar with slow periods and realises that current trends aren't a direct reflection of the quality of your content. he's certain that due to how sweet you are, and how successful your account is overall, your views will pick up in no time.

FANBOY! KENMA who is surprised and disappointed when your views, in fact, do not pick up.

FANBOY! KENMA who figures that — although it's nice that there's less trolls and spammers in your livestreams now, and that he doesn't have to bid against thousands of other fans for a private show anymore — the suspended growth of your channel cannot be a good thing. firstly, he doesn't enjoy imagining a sweet, gentle girl like you struggle financially, or struggle in any sense of the word. secondly, if your explicit content creation doesn't continue to provide a steady and decent stream of income, you'll probably abandon it, similar to how you stopped making gaming content. and of course, that would be kenma's worst nightmare.

FANBOY! KENMA who is this close to transferring someone's yearly salary straight into your bank account, just so he can implore you to keep making porn. but he unfortunately realises not only is that solution unsustainable, but it's also on a level of absolutely pathetic that he has yet to reach.

FANBOY! KENMA who is more concerned about your channel than he is his own. even if his gaming content were to suddenly lose motion, he'd still have his stocks and company investments to fall back on — but what do you have? shamefully, it keeps him up at night thinking that he soon might never see your gorgeous pussy plastered over his monitors again. or hear those cute moans as you mewl his (user)name over and over during one of your private shows.

FANBOY! KENMA who doesn't have to fret for long. on your main account, you send a text post to all your fans, admitting that your channel has been struggling recently. however, you weren't ready to give up so easily; you figured that in order for your account to blow up, you need to pull some sort of viral publicity stunt. something adjacent to sleeping with 100 men in one day, but unforunately you don't have the endurance for that. instead, you're looking for a popular, non-erotic youtuber to make content with.

FANBOY! KENMA is left aghast. not only at the vulgarity of your proposal, but also at how shockingly clever it was. by poaching a youtuber who doesn't already make nsfw content, you'll not only bring in their audience to your channel, but also a large portion of individuals who will want to see the content purely due to the curiousity and shock-factor alone. it was certainly the perfect scheme for a viral moment. the only glaring issue with your plan lied in the fact that there probably wasn't many popular youtubers who are willing to sacrifice their entire reputation, dignity and future sponsorships for a quick buck.

FANBOY! KENMA who is more than happy to end his youtube career for a quick fuck. especially from you.

FANBOY! KENMA who hesitantly messages you through his verified account, enquiring about the possiblity of a collab. he pays attention to the way he types and makes an effort to stray from his usual typing quirks, lest you recognise the way the types from the hours of private shows you've spent together. and the hundreds of comments he's left under your nude pics from his gooner account.

FANBOY! KENMA whose heart jumps in his chest when he receives a message back from you, which reads that you're delighted to get this oppertunity to work with him and you're happy to discuss setting up a date to meet in-person.

FANBOY! KENMA whose cock stiffens at the mere thought of finally seeing you in real life. getting feel those cute tits, and admire your gorgeous face up close. it makes him light-headed to think he might get to taste that tight cunt he's spent so many late nights drooling over. in fact, he struggles to even picture you in three dimensions — you're just so gorgeous with the most perfect tits, a small part of him suspected you must be some sort of hyper-realistic v-tuber.

but no, you're real. you're a real person and soon he's going to meet you in real life and feel the inside of that pretty hole that he's been obsessing over for years.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Main Street Flats. Room 605. It's on the sixth floor but the elevator is broken right now </3 see you soon!

his heart is pounding in his ears as he gently knocks on your door. despite streaming for audience of over twenty thousand viewers on a weekly basis, this is the most nervous he's felt since highschool. his stomach churned and pulsed, as he gripped onto the hem of his hoodie and prayed he wouldn't throw-up.

the worst part was his original fears would only spawn new ones; in the beginning, his biggest worries pertained to his desirability — what if you think he's too ugly and grimy to have sex with? — and his identity — what if you somehow recognise him from his gooner account and figure out he's perverted loser? it was an endless spiral of anxiety that halted when your apartment door swung open.

"oh, hi! you're here early." you sing, noticing him visibly stiffen at the sudden introduction. famous youtuber and twitch streamer , applepi : this guy was a big name in a the gaming sphere at the moment. admittedly, you didn't watch a lot of his content, but his influence and fame was undeniable. you revised for this meeting by binge watching his past livestreams, so you weren't going in totally blind — overall, he seemed like a sweet guy and the perfect candidate for your publicity stunt.

plus, he was so cute. his hair is long for a guy, and slightly bleach damaged, but it suited him somehow. his features were appealing to look at too ; piercing eyes that are almost feline. though they are currently widened to match his awkwardly startled expression.

or at least, that's what you thought. really, although you did surprise him a bit at first, the reason he was still stood staring at you in prolonged silence, was simply because he was soaking up your ethereal presence. he couldn't believe you were real and standing right afore him.

and you were exactly like your account promised. no editing or filters. that pretty face with those glossy lips that tempt in-person just as much as they do online. your perfectly shaped body was currently clad in a baggy pair of shorts and a low-cut tank top which exposed the bold curve of your tits and that salacious cleavage which was already starting to drive him crazy. was it bad that he already wanted to start sucking on those pretty tits? was he perverted for wanting to rip those shorts right off to see if your pussy was as cute and tight as it is online?

fuck, he's not even been here for a minute yet and already getting hard.

"uh— hello? kenma. you there?" you ask with a curious tilt of your head, since he seemed too stunned to respond.

snapped out of his trance, he hurriedly stammers out a reply, "uh, yeah— hi."

"hi," you repeat with a kind smile, "kenma. that's your name, right?"

"yeah." he mumbles, his cock throbbing upon hearing you say his real name in that melodic voice. he was so used to hearing you mewl and moan, it was kinda weird hearing you talk normally.

"why don't you come in?" you offer, stepping out of the way and softly gesturing for him to enter. he does so, timidly shuffling inside and examining your flat while you shut the door behind him.

he could help but gawk at his surroundings , having finally step foot in your home — it was like a place of mystery and myth. having seen snapshots of your flat in the background of your posts and videos, it was as though he was finally putting together the strangest puzzle. what he never sussed out earlier though, is that you live in a studio. still, he recognises the various parts from content. there, to his immeidate right, was your kitchen area, and the familiar countertop you are bent over in many up-skirt pics. in front of him, there is the large window which you frequently pose nude in front of , which would leave him seething at the thought of any pervvy window-cleaners catching a glimpse of you. against the adjacent wall, was your infamous desk with your pc setup on it, surely the one you would use to broadcast your rauchy livestreams. it felt terribly meta seeing the device in-person, along with your leathery gaming chair, which is shockingly prisitne, yet he seen first-hand how much squirt that thing has been covered with. finally , although he couldn't view it well from where he was standing, a few feet behind your desk was your bed. the main attraction.

"sorry, i don't have a living room or anything, but feel free to sit down here." you scramble to pull out one of the bar stools by your kitchen counter, and it grates against the wooden flooring, causing kenma to wince, "would you like me to get you a beverage? maybe a tea or something?"

cautiously, he sits down on the stool and his eyes follow your figure as you move round the counter into the kitchen to prepare yourself a drink, "water, please."

after removing two wine glasses from your cabinet, you fill each one with water from your filter, "yeah, i'm not feeling tea right now either. and coffee probably isn't advisable." you snicker to yourself, and kenma smirks.

he mutters his thanks as you hand him a glass, and you remain on the opposite side of the counter as you converse, "so, i was thinking we could shoot a video today?" you say, shockingly casual, then take a lengthy sip of your water, "is that okay with you, or do you just want to stick with photos?"

"a video is fine." kenma croaks, attempting to not choke on his water.

"great. my bed is just round there. i've set up some lights and a tripod too, so we should be good to go. oh, and clean sheets." you explain, trying your best to project confidence and praying that he doesn't pick up on how inexperienced you are — especially as you are meant to be the 'expert'. but your insistent lack of eye-contact and stammering might've given you away. "heh, i should admit, i've never done anything like this before."

kenma raises an eyebrow, "hm? i thought this is your job."

"sorta. what i mean is that i usually make, erm— solo content. i'm not used to working with others. not like this anyway." you idly fidget with the stem of your glass, beginning to ramble from sheer panic, "i mean, sometimes my friends might help me take pics. y'know, posing or getting the right lighting. but they don't feature in any, it's mostly just me. well, except for that one time, but yeah."

kenma was forced to sit there and grip onto the stem of his glassware and pretend like he didn't know exactly what you were talking about. (for your birthday, you released exclusive content, wherein fans could buy you stuff off your amazon wishlist and receive special photos in return. most of them were of you in your birthday suit, but a couple of the more candid ones showed you dancing in the club with your friends.)

"i'm new to this as well. but we'll work it out together." he reassures, in his silky voice that already has you rubbing your thighs together with anticipation.

"alright. i guess i'm done with my drink. do you want to just, erm, get started?" you inquire through gritted teeth, and he answers your question by simply getting up and following you to your bed.

before you plop yourself down at the end of the bed, and he perches beside you, the camera is first turned on and the lights are adjusted to suit. "i hope they are not too bright?" you ask, as you notice he sublty winces at the harsh illumination.

"it's fine." he shrugs.

"okay, i find this setting works well for me when i'm on my own. but let me know if you wanna change it."

well, kenma thinks to himself, if this is the lighting that makes you look like an otherwordly, divine spirit in all of your videos, then he must be able to put some faith in it.

"also, remember, the key to a good porno is lots of foreplay. think you can do that?" you challenge, and without hesitation, kenma nods.

"great, in that case, should we just start?" you suggest, toying with your own fingers, "don't worry about messing up or getting it right the first time. i rarely get the right footage in one take, it usually takes me three or four rounds before i get the perfect shot."

fuck, there's no way. as soon as the words exit your word, there's a horny pang that ruptures through kenma's mind, almost causing him to shudder. all the times he's seen you squirt at your desk , or orgasm uncontrollably on your bed, that's been the third or fourth take? to think, how swollen and sore your poor little clit must've been from all that stimulation, just to get the perfect shot for your viewers. you were too heavenly. and what he would do to give that sweet clit a kiss.

"kenma? hello?" you call out, as he appears to be lost in a daze once again.

"uh, hi." he jumps back to reality with a firm blink, "thanks. i'm down to reshoot as many times as we need." which is true, he's been working on his stamina and going on runs specifically for this purpose.

"that's great. but are you sure that you want to do this today? you seem a bit distracted."

he shakes his head slightly, "i'm fine."

"if you say so." you sigh, as you sit up and throw one of your legs over kenma's lap so you are straddling him, "the cameras are rolling, so let's go. don't hold back on me." you purr, arching your back into him and tugging him up by his hoodie's drawstrings into a deep kiss, which he is quick to reciprocate.

it's as though he was having some sort of out-of-body experience, like his mind just couldn't comprehend that you — the woman he's been fanning over and masterbating to for years — was finally on top of him. and he didn't need to empty his bank account for it to happen.

despite the surreal feeling, he tried his best to ground himself by slipping a hand under your shorts and squeezing a handful of your ass, reminding him that you were real and he could touch you. in fact, your lips even vibrated against his own as you mewl over the rough groping. he was more randy than you initially assumed, but that's not to say you didn't enjoy it.

as your lips weaved together in a sensual rhythm, his hand becomes increasingly eager and is able to locate your pantie-clad pussy under your loose shorts. his fingertips poked at and explored your soft folds, and he could feel the wet patch in the fabric where it was drooling for him. the camera would only show his hand stuffed between your thighs, but you knew how his slender fingers were toying with your supple cunt.

similarly, as you got lost in the kiss, his fingers drew towards your clit like a magnet to metal, even through the damp fabric of your panties. it was odd but also kinda a turn-on how familiar he was with female anatomy — you figured he must get a lot of action, or something like that. little did you know, he didn't know the first thing about women's biology , he was only able to find your clit so easily due to the fact he's seen so many of your livestreams that an image of your pussy is basically seared onto his prefrontal cortex. so, considering how much time he's spent watching you abuse that little nub with your vibrator, it would be shameful if he didn't couldn't locate your clit in under a second.

your lips were still dancing against his in a sloppy kiss and your arms were wrapped around his shoulders and your soft tits were pressed against his chest and was it just his imagination of could he feel those cute nipples poking him through your tank top? while you whined into his mouth, his hand adventured under your shorts and rubbed that spongy spot between your folds and you were so wet it was seeping through your panties and sticking to his fingers and when he moved to slap your cunt , he could feel the dip where that tight hole was and how the fabric clung to it and— and fuck, he needs to tear this shit off you.

you try to put on a performance for the viewers — make a little show out of tugging your shorts of for the video that was hopefully going to be viewed by thousands , if not millions of horny gamers. but kenma prevented you from doing so.

"hurry up." his fingers, which were previously digging into the supple flesh of your thighs, move to keenly tug at your waistband. although you were making good progess sensually pulling your shorts down as you sway your hips for the camera, kenma is far to impatient and you stumble as he rushes them all the way down your legs and carelessly tosses them aside.

he grabs a fistful of your newly exposed ass cheek and kneads it in his hand, pulling you back in and deepening the kiss once again. "you're so pretty like this.." he rumbles against your mouth, and you can't help but smile. "better than i imagined." maybe he shouldn't have said that, especially as he's trying to pretend like he's not a fanboy that's been routinely pleasuring himself to you for the last year.. but it's the heat of the moment, and it's so true. he could've never conceptualised how angelic you'd feel, how sweet you'd taste and how deliciously lewd you'd smell.

you're so soft and malleable and light, it's like if he held you too firmly you'd shatter, but if he loosened his grip you might dissipate into thin air. and he couldn't let that happen.

a low whimper is strung from his throat as you lightly grind hips down against his throbbing erection. the noise he made caused him to cringe a little, hence his hand instinctually gripped your ass harder, and it didn't help when you giggled quietly while littering kisses over his jawline and neck. no, that only made him even more self-conscious, and in a fit of frustration, he smacks your ass with all the strength he has in his arm. then, he does it again.

you squeal slightly and strighten up, clinging to his shoulder and looking down at his blank face with a pout. his hands massages the warm area upon which he delivered his merciless strike, squeezing at your raw skin. "sorry.." he says timidly, though the lustful and greedy glint at his eye suggests that he might not be so apologetic.

still, you howl with your back turned to the camera, "ow, kenma!" and he genuinely feels guilty for a split second, until you lean in and whisper into his ear, quiet enough so the microphone wouldn't pick up on it, "do it harder next time, please."

kenma's eyes widen, and the insenity of his erection has suddenly shifted from mild to unbearable. thankfully, you are there to lead the way, and you push him back so he is laying on the bed, and you crawl on top of him, pecking all across his neck while he desperately works on unzipping his fly. usually, he taking his clothes off in front of a camera and professional lightening would've caused him a decent amount of mental turmoil, but fortunately due to the extreme discomfort between his legs, he was able to bypass that phase and skip straight to the part where he is trying to shove his cock into your snug little cunt. the cocksleeve of his dreams.

but of course, you are there to interupt him by grabbing his dick with your cute hands and whispering, "remember what i said about foreplay." kenma presses his lips into a fine line, almost tearing up while attempting not to come undone right there in your hand.

you let go and shuffle forward so you're straddling his lower torso, and your pantie-clad pussy is sat on his lower abdomen. you take the hem of your fitted tank top and pull it up over your head, and out fall your gorgeous tits. just the right size and it's like your pebbled nipples were staring right at him, begging to be sucked and toyed with, calling out desperately for attention, crying out just like how they did online during your private livestreams together. except the only difference is this time, kenma can actually reach out and pinch those adorable nubs with his own fing—

"kenma!" you yelp, feeling the hot cum that was leaking down his shaft touch your lower back. fuck, he came. despite his effort to bite it back, upon seeing your perfect tits, his seed naturally came spilling out too, drooling down the length of his cock and staining his thighs and the part of your back and ass that had been situated near him.

"mph, sorry. you're too hot.." he groaned, in a low enough tone that the microphone probably couldn't have picked it up. you furrow your brows and look down at him with a disatisfied pout; though you can feign anger all you want, doesn't change the fact you were secretly endeared by how easily he came for you. he's like putty if your hands. not that this kind of treatment from men is foreign to you — you entertain gooner fanboys all day, it's kinda your job — but kenma wasn't one of them. no, he's a famous livestreamer and millionaire stock-trader, who most women would be delighted to have sex with but he's still so down bad for you.

but you're only a niche camgirl; he'd probably never even heard of you before you reached out to him about a collab.

your chest heaved as you were momentarily fixated on the feeling of his hot cum splattered on your back, running down your skin in drops, over the rotund globe of your ass and back down on to his lower stomach where you were sat. meanwhile, his narrow eyes explored your perfect figure some more. your pretty tits, the tempting dip of your waist, your erect nipples, your panties which clung to the outline of your damp cunt: of course, he's seen it all before online, but this was different. and so much better.

his hands traced your silhouette, sliding up and down the sensual curves of your body and cupping those perky tits. the words left him without considersation, "can i taste?" he croaked.

"of course." you hummed politely in response. however, you were lost in thoughts of your own, and were not paying attention to the way he was lecherously gazing at your tits. hence, you assumed he was referring to something else. and this misunderstanding only manifests when you shuffle forward, pull your panties aside and sit on his face.

but kenma doesn't protest. not only because he's suffocating in your pussy and can hardly speak, but also because he prefers it this way. he relished the oppertunity and grips your thighs, pressing them further down against his mouth.

his lips work against your folds, feverishly, lapping at your sopping labia and sucking on it — savouring at prisitine juices you have to offer. his eyes screw shut as he loses himself in your wet cunt, thrusting his tongue into your hole eagerly and devouring you like a depraved, starving man. and fucking loves it too, and this time he can't even bring himself to hide it; you can tell by the way he moans into your pussy and whispers all sorts of nasty shit under his breath about how your tight hole is going to rip his tongue off, or how you long he's been dreaming about eating you out.

and those are only the things you manage to hear over the obscene, wet noises his mouth is making against your cunt. you're not sure if it's from the sloppy make-out session he has with your folds, or if it is from his tongue repeatedly drilling into your sopping hole, but something is emitting a squealching sounds which you pray the microphone will detect.

"hah— mmh, t' much.." you whine, your fingers winding into his darkened roots as your squirm against his face, "you're so good, kenma."

"not done.." he grits, squeezing the meat of your thighs and burying himself deeper into your fluttering hole, "'m not done tasting you."

"but i'm close!" you blurt out, legs tensing around his head as a burning heat swirls within your abdomen.

"do it." he groaned, hips rutting into thin air as his tongue furiously pierces into your desperate pussy. "finish on my face.. please, baby, cum on me." at first it was a harsh demand, but the more your sweet pussy filled his senses, it became a plea.

soon, your first orgasm wracked through your shivering body, causing your walls to constrict around kenma's tongue, but that didn't stop him from him from kissing your hole as you climaxed. once you were finished though — your body relaxed and your pornographic shrieks fade into heavy breathing — when you move to pull yourself off his face, his hands grip onto your thighs and hold you in place. his lips then begin to move again as he reestablishes a rhythm to continue eating you out.

his enthusiasm, although cute, was lost on you as you keep trying to pull yourself off his face, to no avail. he whines, words muffled by his mouth locked to your pussy, "nggh, please, princess. 'm not done. let me go again. you're so tasty." his fingers cling to your supple flesh, unable to let you go.

you squirm against his face from the ticklish vibrations of his voice against your clit. yours hands grasp meekly onto his longish blond locks, idly massaging his scalp, "mm, but we need to keep going, honey. for the.." your breath hitches, and you mouth the final word, "film."

"fuck the video.." he groans, pressuring your cunt down against his mouth as he starts gnawing at your insides once again. his lips peppered sloppy kisses at your puckered entrance, then his tongue wormed through your restrictive walls and lapped at gummy spot within you, causing back to arch and an utterly pornographic moan to be yanked from you.

instictually, your hips began to rut against his face as your body revels in the feral way he eats out your pussy. "so good, baby.. can't get enough of you, please don't ever make me leave." he murmurs, stamina fueled by a lust-induced trance.

"think you c— ngh— kenma!" you open your mouth to tease him but your abruptly cut off by a string of moans and sobs that your body is no longer able to suppress. from the way his tongue laps at your puffy folds and his nose prods at your delicate clit, there's a growing desire in the pit of your stomach which is becoming increasingly difficult to hide.

"you like that ? feel good?"

originally you'd been trying to stay collected as this was only just the foreplay, but he was doing something to you, and you just couldn't contain yourself any longer. there you were on your bed riding his face and jutting your hips against him, craving friction and selfishly chasing your high without a care in the word for the man suffocating between your legs.

his whole arms were locked around your legs to keep you in place and his eyes were squeezed shut as he delved into your hole, pushing into you repeatedly while you called for to him. "kenma! please!" you pleaded to the ceiling. " 'm right there , please."

"anything for you. just cum for me, kitten. let it all out. finish on my face again." his tongue was too far up your hole and he was too immersed in your needy, juicy cunt to give a fuck about the cringy pet name. that's what he's always called you in his head — his cute little kitten, with innocent eyes and a hidden fierceness — even when he was just a fan , pumping his cock to your digital pussy on his screen. but now it was real , as real as your arousal smearing his chin and dripping down his throat.

and as real as the squirt gushing from your pussy as you climaxed, drenching his face and neck. his tongue was freed from your spasming hole but he continued to suck on and nibble at your pulsing clit, massaging your ass to coax you through your high.

it was euphoric, your pent-up stress releasing as a wave of bliss coarsed through your body. your muted screamed bounced off the wall as you revelled in the sensation, without a drop of care for your neighbours or those who might overhear.

as your coming down, the orgasmic dizziness begins to fade and your seneses sharpen, which is when you become conscious of a hot fluid dripping down your back. your brows furrow, and you try to reach your hand back to touch it but unfortunately your arms don't bend that far. that's when you hear a murmur of a dishevelled kenma from between your legs, mouth still brushed up against your clit, "erm, sorry. again."

you turn around to see that he came a second time, and now his cum has spurted all up his chest and some must've also splattered across your back, again.

all you can do is titter in response, shuffling off his face and kneeling on the bed beside him, "don't worry about it.." taking his slender hand in your own, you guide it towards your hips as you twist around and bend over on the bed, bracing yourself with your elbows with your ass in the air. "c'mon. 'm ready to take you." still riding your depleting high, you look back at him with your bottom lip captured betwen your teeth and a wanton glint in your eyes. "wanna hurry up and give it to me, daddy?"

even though a part of him reckoned you were playing it up for the camera, he couldn't help but relish at how needy you are. who knew fucking yourself stupid with a dildo and toying with your clit all day while livestreaming wasn't enough for your greedy little pussy? still desperate to get stuffed by him; a guy you hardly knew. god, it drove him crazy to think about.

he swiftly sat up and aligned himself with your entrance, smearing the head of his cock over your glistening folds and lubricating himself with your arousal. he couldn't believe this. his breath hitched at the sight , along with the realisation that he was about to enter the same sweet cunt that he's been dreaming about for ages. he salivates at the notion, wondering whether your walls would squeeze his dick just like he imagined.

there was only one way to find out. wasting no time, the distance between his hips and yours narrow as he buries himself into your creamy hole. his eyes screw shut and he clenches a fistful of your ass, experiecing an overwhelming level of satisfaction as your walls grip onto his length. "nngh, i knew this pussy was made for me.." he grumbles, torso going slack as he leans forward, body laying against yours, with his cheek pressed against the back of your neck — without an ounce of concern for the cum on your back which was now surely staining his chest further.

"mhm, n' you fill me up so good." you mewl, squirming back against him and appreciating the inches of stimulation it brings you. you're given some time to adjust to his impressive length, stretching your stubborn walls to fit him inside you while he remained stagnant, body caving into yours as he savoured the moment.

" n' you're so fucking tight too.. you're like a dream come true." he droned in his usual monotone voice, "don't think i can ever pull out of you. this is where i belong. deep inside you." talk about pussy-drunk; this is the most talkative you've seen him so far.

it took one or two more agitated squirms before he figured out you were attempting to covertly ask for more. as much as he was enjoying himself cuddling into your back while balls-deep in your cunt, he straightening his posture and slowly begins to rock his hips into you. starting a reasonable and moderate pace, and working his way up until he was hurriedly slamming his cock into your pussy over and over.

a staggered cry emitted from your mouth with every harsh slap of his hips against yours ass, along with the cruel pierce of his length against yoru cervix. your whole body was rocked by his brutal force, and your tits swung in such an overt way — easily identifiable by a potential viewer.

"hah— yes, ke— kenma! right— there—" the breathy words stumbled out of you, accompanied by a high-pitched whine of pleasure. "no— no one's ever— mph, fucked me like this!"

"you're taking it so well, kitten." meanwhile, kenma's focus was zeroed in on your ass, watching it bounce against him as he pounded into your sopping hole repeatedly. the juices seeped out of you — an unholy mixture of precum, your wetness and his saliva — and culminated in a ring at the base of his cock.

your gummy walls swallowed him whole and took him so nicely. hugging every inch of his unloved cock and showing him the affection he deserved. so tight, and so good for him. it almost made him feel bad for mercilessly drilling into you. "just like that. stay just like that, pretty girl." he heaved, as his fingers idly trail up your thighs until they reach your folds, wherein he begins to rub and pinch at your clit.

it was all just so much. his expert fingers; his fat cock; his warm body against yours. plus, you were still sensitive from your previous two orgasms. the rigid knot was building up within you so quickly. your body was tensing and he could sense you were close from the way your walls clung to his unforgiving dick. "please, ke— enma. i'm so close, i'm so fucking close."

"shh. i know, baby. n' i'm going to take care of you. so just relax." his voice his shaky yet so calming and remorseful; in stark contrast to the way his dick keeping ploughing into you, relentlessly bullying your poor cervix and your aching little hole. this was serious, as reflected by the severe glint in his eyes; this means a lot more to him just some stupid video. he's a man on a mission.

his length ravaged your insides yet it was stroking all the right places, just as his hands caressed your thighs and ass. "such a good girl. can't believe this pussy's all mine."

with that, you tossed your head back and let pure bliss encapsulate your trembling body. your arms gave out from underneath you but the overwhelming pleasure coarsing through you distracted from the discomfort of your face hitting the mattress. despite how your cunt clamped down on him, kenma attempted to still fuck you through your high, but all he managed was a few feeble thrusts and a single stroke of your clit before he came undone inside you.

your moans bounced off the walls and filled the room. it was hard to cope with the conjestive feeling of his hot seed permeating your insides, but you were given time to lay down and recover. and soon, kenma's twitching body collapsed on top of you and joined you.

his dick was still buried in your stuffed pussy , and he was a bit heavy on top of you, but you were far too worn out to utter a complaint about it. instead, you just laid there and tried to catch your breath, flinching occasionally.

until you eventually spoke up, "that was a good demo. i think we've still got a lot of practising to do though, before we're ready to shoot the real thing."

"sure." he replied plainly.

there was a beat of silence between you, in which you could hear kenma still puffing for air. to lighten the mood, you ask, "by the way, what's with the nickname? 'kitten' ; i've never heard that one before."

"oh, do you not like it?"

"no, i don't mind it." you say defensively, "well, maybe you shouldn't use it during the final take, but it's not that bad. certainly new. never been called that before, which is pretty crazy considering guys online have called me plenty of unique nicknames: pumpkin, sugarplum, even honey muffin — but not kitten."

"hm, i think it just reminded me of you." he explains flatly, "but now that i think about it, i guess 'bunny' might've suited you more."

"hm, how come?"

"cos of your halloween costume. remember?"

"oh, yeah!" you giggle at the memory; the year you went as a bunny was certainly a wild one. gosh, it must've been ages ago now.. you think to yourself. and suddenly, your heart rate begins to increase as a realisation comes crashing down on you:

"huh, it's strange you know that, though. considering the only people who know about that costume are my friends, and the fifteen people who bought the pictures off my account."

shit.

[fatfemmefreaquency]

also the doors you’d get from door guy would be a much better quality than whatever comes from a big box store—and while about 10-30 years ago the big box store prices were much more affordable, now that they have a captive audience they’re charging more than many of the few small remaining local shops I still visit

(or charging high prices for low quality goods even if they’re not quite at the price point for higher quality goods)

I live in a small-ish town with a local key cutter and locksmith who has been in business for 45 years (and who’s father owned the business before him)

you can get a key cut at the local shop where the guy is just truly a genius about locks and keys—he has more options for keys than I’ve seen anywhere else, ever—and it costs about $5 for a regular house key (more for the specialty ones)

he also is scrupulously honest about not copying keys that say “do not copy” and he uses his engraving machine to do a variety of stuff (want your house key labeled “house” and the storage key labeled “storage”? he’ll do that for you. but he’ll also engrave any bit of metal you bring in that’s suitable)

if the key doesn’t work due to poor standardization of the blanks you can bring it back and this guy will work with you to file it down or recut it until it fits—no charge unless a new key needs to be cut or he has to go see the lock in person to get the key cut just right

getting a key cut (done by a machine, not a person) at the local hardware stores starts at $6 for the blanks with an extra $2.95 charge or more for the machine’s operation

these keys are almost never a good match to the original, with lots of errors in the cutting—so they might just…not work. there’s no option to adjust this or request a refund. they cost more and they’re worse

unfortunately the local guy says that when he retires his shop will likely have to close—he has employees, he’s one of the best (and only) locksmiths in town and his apprentices are great at their jobs too

but if he’s no longer the leaseholder on the shop front, the landlord isn’t bound by commercial rent control laws any more, and can increase the rent to whatever price they choose

unfortunately rent rates are ridiculous now, and most small businesses can’t afford it. anyone who might want to take over key guy’s business could never afford the rent

One sad side effect of big box stores is that you just don’t get lifelong hyper fixation guy access like you used to.

Like yeah I can go to Menards and buy a door.

But it used to be I could go to the door store, and speak to a man whose sole passion in life was doors and who would talk about the history of door insulation patterns over the last 50 years without stopping to breathe.

That man is gonna find me the BEST door option for me.

Seriously my neighborhood had one of these. They were across the street from the lighting shop owned by the guy who could tell you the exact date, off the top of his head, that your property got electrical wiring based on your address.

Now these guys rarely get to own a shop, make a good living, and sell the very finest doors for decades. They’re relegated to Reddit posts which are informative but ultimately do not replace door guy having a door shop.

I don’t want to talk to some miserable, underpaid 20 year old who was in plumbing last week and in doors this week and doesn’t know a hammer from a hanger.

I want my door guy back.

[self-loving-vampire]

Many reasons why I'm not on-board with the whole misandry thing that seems to be getting popular among the types of trans women who get big around here, beyond just the fact that I think making assumptions based on gender is bad on principle or the fact that it gives off a bitter sort of energy in a lot of posts.

It's also that in my view there is not really much of a meaningful difference between men and women, especially at the individual level human relationships operate at. Whatever combination of traits you associate with women also exists in some men, and vice versa. The same actions don't become different based on the gender of the person doing them either. A lot of this stuff just strikes me as profoundly sexist, and not even strictly in an anti-men way but also in the sense that it once again reinforces the predator/prey binary of traditional sexism, as radfems always do.

It also highlights and centers gender in a way I find extremely off-putting. I don't want to get any kind of special treatment just for being a woman. I don't want people to assume I am "safer" or more morally upstanding based on gender. I truly don't see myself as being on a different level from cis men (or cis women!) in any way, at least not more so than I do from humans more generally.

I profoundly dislike it when gender is treated like a definitive quality of my life that should color everything I am and everything I do, even if this is done "benevolently".

[awakefor48hours]

I'm seeing rumors I don't like so here's some reminders. Sources under cut.

MD was not "cancelled" or "over-shadowed" by TADC. Liam ended MD because he felt like he was done.

Gooseworx herself has even said that TADC and MD aren't in competition with each other. They're kissing, in fact.

Gooseworx has also made it clear that TADC is only going to be 8 episodes and judging by what Gooseworx has said about a season 2, you're probably more likely to buy a winning lottery ticket than she is to making a season 2 to TADC so don't hold your breath about it.

MD's finale took longer to come out because Liam and the crew wanted it to be the best it could be. It had nothing to do with TADC's popularity. This is also a good thing because it means that Glitch values quality over quantity.

Despite selling who knows how many Pomni plushies, Glitch is still an indie animation company of 100 staff members (and I don't know how many of those staff members are janitors or something) and they don't have unlimited funding. They're taking on more projects and that just means it will just require more time and effort for other shows to come out.

With the information that we have, we have no reason to believe that Glitch is secretly running a cut-throat environment where all the creators are constantly mean to each other. Stop making things up.

Screenshot 1 | Screenshot 2 | Screenshot 3 | Screenshot 4

[darkmatilda]

𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the weight of distance presses heavier with each passing day, the ache of absence stitched together only by hour-long phone calls like a fragile sutures on a wound that refuses to close. so you choose his birthday — the perfect day to cross the miles in silence and secrecy, and surprise spencer on his special day.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: glasses!reid x baufemale!reader, long distance relationship, early seasons team, so our queen elle is here, lots of team interactions overall, both reader and spencer's pov, height difference, kissing until his glasses fog up xx

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 5k

𝐚/𝐧: literally started writing this over two months ago so i hope the first half doesnt differ too much in quality from the second one :/ the soul who’s the first to catch the tiny subtle mr darcy reference gets a cookie!

You admitted it without a trace of embarrassment – every time you called your long-distance boyfriend, you waited for him to pick up with your forehead almost glued to the screen and your lips frozen in a half-smile, ready to bloom across half your face the moment you saw his face.

Automatically.

The word nonchalance wasn’t foreign to you, but you deeply despised it. You had no intention of pretending it didn’t matter whether he picked up or not, or that you hadn’t rearranged half of your quite busy day for that shared moment. You weren’t going to pretend that hearing his voice meant any less to you than it actually did, just to maintain some kind of image or out of fear of being too much.

No, that definitely wasn’t your case.

If anything, you leaned toward paranoia — that you weren’t doing enough to take care of your relationship stretched across nearly 4000 miles and separated by the Pacific. That you weren’t trying hard enough. You had a set time for one call a day; usually, by then, you were already comfortably tucked under the covers and reporting in for duty (though duty was a very poor comparison—unless we’re talking about the duty of petting small fluffy puppies. yes. kissing the heads of twenty fluffy puppies was almost exactly like your daily call with Spencer).

But that one daily call usually wasn’t the only one. You reached out to each other spontaneously throughout the day, depending on your schedules and the plans of that particular day. On weekends, you watched movies together, he read a book aloud and you exchanged thoughts only when his calm voice reached the end of a chapter, or you played chess online. The bare minimum to fill the void left behind by the distance.

A void that was, however, ravenous—and seemed to deepen with every passing day. It wasn’t a graph line with rises and dips. It kept steadily taking up more and more space inside you.

And that’s how you came to the conclusion that even hundreds of books read aloud by Spencer wouldn’t be enough to dissolve it.

Not when his voice came through a phone speaker.

Not when it wasn’t followed by his breath, tickling your ear.

And that realization pushed you toward a certain…spontaneous decision.

But more on that later.

Your call was finally answered, and a premature, involuntary soft smile curled your lips before his face even appeared on your screen.

“Hey, handsome…” you began with your usual line, fully prepared to relish the blush that would bloom on his cheeks like cupcakes with sweet cherries on top—

but instead of your favorite treat, you were met with something entirely different.

Seeing Derek’s face, clumsily close to the front-facing camera and moving in a way that strongly suggested he was fiercely struggling to keep hold of the phone, snapped you back to attention like an athlete catching their footing.

“Hello, conventionally handsome man, long time no see. Anyway, where’s my handsome man?”

“Morgan, I’m serious, give me—”

“Hey, kid, how many times have I told you women don’t like possessive men? Let me talk to her for a sec…”

“I’m not possessive, I just…”

“You’re right, long time no see,” Derek cut in, completely ignoring his friend—his words, his attempts to wrestle the phone back from his hand. You kept your gaze fixed on the corner of the screen where a part of Spencer’s face occasionally slipped into the frame. Your lips were still curved in a smile, but shifting your focus to Morgan took effort. “What’s up, former-new girl? Don’t look too happy to see me.”

“Oh, I’m very happy to see you. In fact, the sight of you has turned this rainy Amsterdam day well, not exactly sunny, but let’s say we’ve moved from a downpour to a drizzle.”

“You’re welcome—that’s what friends are for. So? You in the mood for a quick chat with me?”

“Morgan.”

“Hmm, gladly,” you replied, tapping your free lip in mock thoughtfulness. “Let me just check my schedule to see when I might be available. How about next Friday?”

“Next Friday?”

“Morgan, I swear—”

“Oh my God, stop torturing them already,” cut in a woman’s voice you recognized instantly, and almost in the same moment, the phone moved from Morgan’s hand to your friend Elle’s.

She gave you a smile—a fleeting one, just a flash of sincerity—before replacing it with her trademark bossy expression. “Another second and they’ll both shrivel up from longing. Here you go.” She handed the phone back to its rightful owner. The first thing you saw were his eyes behind the glasses, aimed at her, full of grateful warmth. “You both owe me one. But since one of you is currently unavailable and clearly unable to repay it, you owe me two favors, Reid.”

A nod.

 “Goes without saying.”

You just managed to catch Morgan’s disappointed sigh at having his thoroughly entertaining game cut short, before you found yourself finally, completely one-on-one with your boyfriend.

He was watching the two of them—presumably leaving—until, at last, his gaze shifted to you. That tiny smile of yours finally bloomed into something fuller.

“Okay, I feel like I was interrupted earlier and I need to say this again, properly,” you said before he could get a word out. You took a breath, like you were about to cast a spell. “Good morning, handsome.”

You loved that kind of smile on his lips—the one that came with an involuntary tilt of the head, like its weight shifted evenly and pulled just enough to cause that barely noticeable movement.

“Finally. Good morning, angel.”

It warmed you every single time he used that phrase with you, and you couldn’t help but blink a little faster at the thought of hearing it in person after such a long time apart. But that was still the future, a vision. For now, there was the present, reality.

“Please, tell Morgan I didn’t brush him off because I didn’t want to talk to him,” you said. “But I literally have fifteen minutes before I have to leave and just wanted to call you real quick, because I won’t be very available later. I have a seminar.”

Spencer nodded because, of course, he remembered. But still, his brown eyes clouded slightly.

“You mentioned it. And well, of course I’ll tell Morgan you brushed him off because you didn’t want to talk to him.”

You almost snorted, but held it back.

“Hey, being my boyfriend doesn’t give you permission to use me for your personal revenge.”

“It doesn’t?” he asked with a face of innocence, fake curiosity, like he’d just come across a tiny footnote at the bottom of a page, an unknown piece of information.

“Well, usually no, but there are exceptions to that rule. For example, when the personal revenge might bring satisfaction to both of us. The second is when you ask nicely. Just please, don’t abuse that option.”

“I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises.”

“I’d make you pinky-promise, but that wouldn’t really work in our current situation,” you said, glancing at your own raised pinkie, the corners of your mouth tugging downward.

Then suddenly, they parted, struck by a thought. “Oh, right. I just remembered. What are you planning to do tomorrow?”

Spencer’s brow furrowed slightly.

“The usual, I guess? Go to work…”

“For your birthday, silly.”

This time, it was his lips that parted with a soft, dawning hiss of realization. You looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“Don’t even tell me you forgot your own birthday.”

Spencer shook his head distractedly.

“No, it’s not that I completely forgot. But if you think about it, it wouldn’t be that weird if I had. I don’t have any plans anyway, and it’s just going to be…you know, a totally normal day.”

You watched him for a moment in silence. You rarely faked emotions around him. But this time, you had to summon a thick mask of exaggerated disappointment—couldn’t let even the tiniest flicker of stinging excitement slip through.

“I wish I could be there for you so badly.”

That part didn’t need faking. The sincerity in those words rang clear. You saw your boyfriend’s jaw tighten slightly, and you wished you could reach out and rest your hand against it, letting your thumb brush toward his lips.

The silence that followed suddenly felt especially heavy. You knew Spencer was masking his sadness so you wouldn’t feel bad about not being there. He didn’t expect you to feel guilty—but he anticipated it. And, well, he’d be right. You would feel bad.

You forced a smile onto your lips—only because you wanted to see how, eyes fixed on your face, he’d unconsciously mirror the gesture. You’d learned that trick a long, long time ago.

“I have to run,” you announced with a sigh. “Seriously, I have to run. technically, I should already be out the door.”

“Don’t forget your umbrella.”

“It’s not raining anymore.”

“Yeah, but it’s supposed to start again right around the time you’ll be heading home. And there’s a cold front coming in from the North Sea, so maybe wear something warmer under your coat. I don’t want you getting sick.”

Spencer knew the weather in your city—on another continent—better than you did.

A moment of silence to let that fact settle. Thank you.

“If you’re right, I love you,” you said. “If you’re wrong, I still love you, but I’m also mad I had to lug around an umbrella all day.”

For a fleeting moment, he dipped his head, eyes squinting just slightly, a small smile on his lips.

“I love you too.”

*

Spencer had never been particularly fond of celebrating his birthday.

To him, birthdays were simply another way of measuring time like years, months, weeks, and days—only a little more brutal. They were like a mirror you woke up in front of one day, a moment of realization and reckoning—not so much with time moving forward, but with everything that had been left behind. The new year reflected what you had achieved and who you had become. Birthdays, on the other hand, felt like a celebration of missed chances, honored with the addition of yet another digit to your age.

Twenty-six. He could’ve done something far more impressive by now—and he didn’t mean that just as self-criticism. He was being objective. At twenty-six, Einstein had his Annus Mirabilis, his miraculous year, the year he developed the theory of mass–energy equivalence. With that knowledge in mind, Spencer had every right to feel a certain pressure.

But beyond all that, that day…he just wasn’t in the mood.

He had just been wondering what to eat for dinner when his phone started ringing.

A long-distance relationship had trained him to reach for it the exact second the ringtone sounded—and to experience that brief flicker of disappointment when the name on the screen wasn’t the one he was hoping for. Just like this time.

“Oh, Reid, how wonderful that you picked up so fast,” came Penelope’s voice on the other end.

“Garcia, hey. Something’s wrong?”

“Yes. I mean—no. I need you to drop by for a moment, is that okay? I mean, even if it’s not okay, it’s still probably better if you come. Not that I’m forcing you, but—ugh, just come over.”

Spencer was standing in his kitchen, phone pressed to his ear, and as her explanation spilled out, a suspicion started blooming in him. He considered himself a fairly perceptive person—and Penelope a very open book. So it was no surprise that, almost immediately, he had a pretty good idea of what was going on. He leaned his lower back against one of the cabinets, folding his free arm across his chest.

 “I’m not sure I can make it,” he said despite knowing full well that he could, and that he had the time. But he also knew that, on the other end, Garcia was probably exchanging panicked looks with the rest of the team, arguing about where exactly to hang the balloons in her apartment. And the image was amusing enough to drag out the moment. “For what?”

“I need your help. With something.”

“With what exactly?”

His friend let out something between a hum and a sigh—both thoughtful and panicked.

Meanwhile, Spencer waited patiently, smiling to himself and saying nothing.

“What am I supposed to tell him?!”Penelope’s voice came faintly from the speaker, as if she’d lowered the phone away from her mouth probably thinking that would keep him from hearing. It didn’t.

“I don’t know, make something up!” came a reply Spencer recognized instantly—Derek. A finger snap. “Lightbulb in the bathroom went out.”

“Oh, great! I love when your brain is the same size as your biceps.” She turned her attention back to the phone, voice suddenly loud and confident with her freshly invented excuse  “The lightbulb in my bathroom blew.”

Spencer wasn’t about to let it slide that easily.

“What wattage?”

“What?”

“What wattage is the bulb? LED or halogen?”

“Normal. It’s a normal lightbulb, Reid.”

“Are you sure it’s burnt out? Could be a wiring issue. Might be better to call a specialist to take a look. I’d rather not end up electrocuted. Especially on my birthday.”

“Jeez, tell him to stop being such a child.”

Penelope pulled the phone away again.

 “I can’t, then he won’t come at all!”

“I have an idea,” Spencer said suddenly, forcing her to scramble back to the call.

“Why don’t you ask Morgan to change it for you, since he’s already there?”

Garcia squeaked in panic. Then immediately broke into a cough, trying to mask the sound.

“There is no Derek Morgan here! Where would you even get that idea?” she squealed in a high voice. At the same time, a distinct snort of laughter echoed in the background. “That? That’s just the TV. Just…some dumb show with an annoying host. Ugh, I should really turn it off…”

The snort that echoed in the background this time didn’t belong to Morgan. It belonged to Elle. A quiet, distant argument broke out between all three of them, and Spencer didn’t understand a single word of it. He cut in at the moment he considered most appropriate.

“I’ll be at your place in 30 minutes.”

Complete silence.

“You’re coming? Seriously? Guys, he says that— I mean, ymm, great! See you!”

Before she hung up, he still managed to hear her deep sigh of relief that the conversation, in which she had to show off her conspiracy skills, was finally over.

Spencer slowly pulled the phone away from his ear, remaining for a moment in the silence that followed. Of course he had intended to show up from the very beginning. He might not have felt excited at the thought of his birthday, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the surprise his friends had put effort into preparing. It wasn’t his dream way of spending the day, but there was a reason that dream scenario remained in the realm of dreams—its realization was simply physically impossible. But a not-so-surprising surprise party ranked high on that list.

He hesitated over what to wear. In the end, his gaze settled on the shirt he'd gotten from no one other than you. You liked how that soft, muted pink color both slightly contrasted with his wardrobe and still somehow fit perfectly into it. You also used to say it brightened his face.

Spencer pulled it on, tied his tie, and sent you a photo. He wanted you to know that even though you were far away, he was still wearing your favorite clothes.mHe didn’t expect you to reply right away.You’d already had the birthday call, during which you gave him wishes you’d been crafting for two weeks. You delivered them at machine-gun speed with all your enthusiasm, then repeated them more slowly so he’d have a chance to actually understand anything.

Your reply came just as he was leaving his apartment.

my boyfriend sending me an outfit check??? never thought I’d live to see that day

He was just turning the key in the lock, the light from his phone casting a glow onto his face, letting the gentle smile on his lips break through the darkness slowly wrapping around the stairwell. He pressed the handle again to check whether being distracted had made him forget to lock it. Then he dropped the key into his pocket and slowly started down the stairs. 

Not quite an outfit check. Just tangible or well, virtual, proof that I really like this shirt and I’m not wearing it just because you told me to. The team’s throwing me a surprise party and I figured it’d be perfect…

here his fingers slowed

…it’s your favorite, and in its own not-quite-explainable way, it makes me feel like you’re here.

The reply probably came in before you even finished reading the whole message.

so an outfit check?

wait what kind of surprise party is it if you know about it??

u’re so sweet. also you look so good in that color.

He wanted to text back, to explain how he even knew about this surprise party, but another message came in.

sorry cant really text rn just getting off the tram :( hope u have fun at the party kisses call u later

He was a little surprised, since you usually took the later tram home, but maybe you just had your own reason for coming back earlier. Maybe he’d ask about it later, when the two of you called. Spencer hoped he wouldn’t be too tired after the party to talk to you.

So he replied simply

Got it. Please, be safe.

The way to Penelope’s apartment passed very quickly for him. It occurred to him that he didn’t really know who would even be there. Definitely Morgan, Elle, possibly JJ, but he doubted that everyone had shown up—like, everyone everyone.

And if it turned out he was right, he didn’t intend to be even slightly offended—after all, it was understandable they might’ve wanted to spend the evening in a different way. He knocked on the door and didn’t even call out to come in, even though as he was approaching them, he had clearly heard voices coming from inside, which suddenly, as if by magic, fell silent.

He felt like rolling his eyes—in a positive sense. It was predictable. Of course it was. But it also filled him with a certain warm feeling.

He opened the door and stepped into Garcia’s apartment, heading for the living room. And that’s exactly what he did when he saw the entire team gathered there. He rolled his eyes, though that warm feeling grew stronger and made the decision on its own to stretch his lips into a broad, broader smile when he realized they really were all there.

They were silent, eyes fixed on him, Elle and JJ both holding a tray with a birthday cake with lit candles, but for some reason not bringing it any closer to him.

“Sorry, but I have to say this,” he began. “You’re so predictable.”

“Are we?” came a voice directly behind his back.

He didn’t exactly freeze in place, like he’d been hit with liquid nitrogen. His body transitioned into that state gradually — starting with his shoulder blades instinctively drawing together, long before his mind fully processed the situation or registered that voice.

That voice.

The voice he heard every single day through his phone or laptop speaker, desecrated by the quality of the device — which, even if it were the most cutting-edge machine built by NASA, wouldn’t be able to truly convey the tone of her voice, let alone force him to feel the kind of emotions that now crashed into him like a wave, drowning him.

Water filling his ears.

No, that couldn’t be — they had literally exchanged texts just moments ago!

His eyes locked ahead, all the team’s gazes fixed on him, waiting, expectant. Penelope, her hands tightly clasped together, resting just beneath her chin.

Spencer, not breathing, turned around — and only then drew in a deep, vital breath.

Vital, because he knew he was about to pull her into an embrace so tight neither of them would get a taste of air for a very long time.

Your eyes locked onto each other like two powerful magnets, desperately seeking one another — an instant click. Another instant click when both your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, lifting her feet off the ground. Click when his hands gripped your waist firmly, steadying you. Click when his face found its place in the curve of your neck, burying itself there completely, disappearing, hiding, drawing the curtains so no one else could interrupt this moment.

Click, because you were together.

Spencer drew in a shaky breath, entirely filled with your scent — a scent he seemed to rediscover after months apart — occupying his mind so completely that the words he had intended to say slipped away from him entirely. You took over the role of speaker instead.

“Happy birthday,” you announced tearfully, sniffling and pulling your head away from his shoulder so the tear rolling down your cheek wouldn’t stain his shirt.

The pale pink shirt. Your favorite shirt.

You pouted your bottom lip, trying to hold it together, but you couldn’t. Now that you were finally with him, the full weight of maintaining a long-distance relationship — the weight you had been pushing away to avoid sinking into sadness — crashed down on you all at once. But it was wild, unrestrained, and yet instantly found comfort in his arms, his scent, his presence.

You felt his chest cave slightly as he took in a breath and lifted his head to look at you. In the process, his glasses had been pressed all the way up his nose from where they'd been crushed between your neck and his face — the frames practically touching his eyelids — but neither of you thought about how ridiculous that must've looked.

His eyes immediately locked onto the tear that had slipped from yours. He wanted to wipe it away, but he didn’t want to let go of you either, so he settled for pressing a fleeting kiss to your cheek, brushing it away with his lips instead.

It earned a muffled, quiet laugh from you.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a hushed voice.

You blinked and dipped your head slightly, letting the tears pool without falling, then tilted it back up so you could focus on his face. Immediately, you had the impulse to adjust his glasses, which you did.

“Attending my boyfriend’s surprise birthday party,” you replied, sliding your hand down his chest and rising onto your toes to kiss him — briefly, because you could feel the eyes of all your friends on you, patiently silent and giving you time.

It wasn’t a good idea. The moment your lips brushed his, Spencer froze for a second, only to lean in for more right after. You barely managed to pull away, ignoring his disgruntled hum of protest.

“But I guess I’m the only element of this whole thing that was actually a surprise…”

You shot a meaningful look at Penelope, fully aware Spencer had known about some kind of party happening. The blonde defensively waved her hands in front of her, brushing off the implied accusation.

“Oh, you don’t get it. I let it slip on purpose so your entrance would be more spectacular! Our genius boy thought he had outsmarted our whole plan and then…” she gestured between the two of you, still tangled together.

This time, it was Spencer who shot her a look, full of disbelief at her words and amused pity. And, as it turned out, he wasn’t the only one — well over half of the people present mirrored his reaction.

To shake off all the attention suddenly weighing on her, Penelope snapped her fingers in the direction of Elle and JJ, who were holding the birthday cake.

"Those candles are practically melting! Don’t forget your wish, loverboy."

Your lips twitched the moment you heard that nickname, and you gave Spencer a light, urging pat on the arm still wrapped around you. You could still feel his hand gently tightening around your waist for a fleeting moment before he let go — his fingers performing a subtle flex before falling back to rest — and leaned down over the cake to blow out the candles shaped like the numbers 2 and 6.

He immediately tried to pull you back into his embrace, but you forced yourself to slip away, letting him get swept into the whirlwind of bear hugs from everyone else.

You stayed back, just slightly to the side, knowing you'd have time for just the two of you later. Your gaze lingered on his softly glowing brown eyes behind his glasses and the faint squint from the smile that simply refused to leave his face. The sounds of the room gradually faded away around you.

Surprisingly, you didn’t feel the slightest exhaustion after the long, connecting flights. And even if any fatigue dared creep its way into your body, it was instantly drowned out by what now burned in your chest — that warm, joyful feeling.

“Why did I even stress so much over picking a gift for him?” you heard from your left , Gideon muttering under his breath, but still loud enough for you to catch. He was staring in the same direction. “No matter what I gave him, the only thing he’ll remember from today is you.”

You exchanged a glance with him — the smile lingering only on your lips, but you could tell he shared it.

For the rest of the party, you and Spencer stayed within arm’s reach, always side by side, finally able to allow yourselves that closeness after so many months apart. Even later, as you made your way back to his apartment at night, hauling gift bags and a single box between you, he carried them all on one arm just so he could keep the other wrapped around you.

You clung to his pink shirt, occasionally rising onto your toes to press a kiss to his jaw or a smile, only to pull away again quickly — careful not to crash into a trash can or a lamp post along your path.

Clinging tightly to his side wasn’t exactly making it easier for either of you to walk. But Spencer didn’t complain. Even despite the fact that you were moving at the pace of a drunken turtle.

When his apartment building finally appeared within sight, you tilted your head back for a moment, breathing slower, more consciously.

“Tonight’s stars are so beautiful,” you remarked, staring at the faint, barely visible dots in the sky.

Spencer slowed his steps, lifting his gaze toward the sky, only to fully shift his attention to your face.

“Setting aside the fact that those are the same stars on the same day,” he started, in that scientific yet soft way of speaking of his, “which I’m quite sure you know…no, they’re not beautiful. Look again. You can barely see them.”

“They’re still beautiful,” you insisted.

You were two adults, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, loaded with birthday gift bags, arguing whether or not the stars were beautiful. Spencer stood firmly on the no side of that debate.

“Absolutely not. Artificial light sources in the city generate light pollution, which makes astronomical observation of the night sky difficult. If we were somewhere less urbanized—”

“But we’re here,” you cut in softly, your face still tilted toward the sky. “We’re here together, which makes them beautiful to me. Besides, beauty is a relative concept. Which I’m quite sure you know.”

His quiet sigh, the gesture of surrender. Instead of trying to convince you of something he simply couldn’t convince you of, he just pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Fine, you win, my little relative concept.”

Already on the staircase, your melancholic mood vanished entirely as you pulled him into a kiss he couldn’t escape from. Not that he wanted to, but he had to — if he actually wanted to dig the key out of his pocket and let you both inside. So while your hands clung to the back of his neck, his fumbled through his pockets — the same ones, because he was far too distracted to remember which ones he’d already checked and which he hadn’t.

“Wait—”

“Can’t—”

“Find—”

“The key—”

Slipped from his lips in the few short moments they weren’t covered by yours. You couldn’t care less about his key struggles — you’d been away from him for months, and you fully intended to kiss him for every single time you’d wanted nothing more than exactly that, but had an ocean between you instead.

Eventually, Spencer gave up and fell silent, returning your kiss with his entire being, both of his hands cradling your cheeks perfectly. You wished your skin was made of plaster, able to preserve the shape of them on you forever. You heard his short, muffled whimper and cracked your eyes open, just enough to notice that his glasses were completely fogged up.

His glasses fogged white, his cheeks flushed pink.

You giggled at the sight, making his face match the color palette of his shirt even more. One of his hands slid down from your cheek and drifted toward the small pocket on his chest. “Found the key,” he announced.

It immediately slipped from his fingers and hit the floor with a clatter.

His sigh, your next giggle, and both of you bending down at the same time.

A head collision and two groans.

You burst into open laughter and took full advantage of the fact that he was bent down, reaching for the key, to press a soft kiss to his hair—the very spot where you’d bumped heads. You left a trail of kisses along his head, wandering across his forehead, brushing the tip of his nose, slowly claiming his lips.

Meanwhile, he blindly fumbled with the key, trying to aim it at the lock without breaking the kiss for even a second.

You weren’t sure there’d be enough hours in the night to fully make up for all the time you’d been apart. Especially since you yourself still couldn’t quite believe this was happening. That you were seeing him again. Kissing him again.

Finally, after what felt like real, dragging hours and simultaneously exactly 4.24 light-years traveled in mere minutes—the sound of the lock turning.

[deathspeaker]

Zack Snyder is an incredibly shallow person with a very purile and childish worldview.

He famousy once claimed he could write Batman getting raped in jail and said so with pride. Seemingly incapable of recognizing why that statement might be problematic, or weird, or say more about him than anything about Batman, or just how stupid the whole idea sounded, and how extremely weird it is for him to be proud of that idea.

Zack Snyder openly has talked about how he dislikes Superman, doesn't get him, finds the very idea of him to be 'childish' because to him, hope is childish. Someone with power choosing to be good doesn't make sense to him, it's extremely alien to him. Again, these say things about him more than Superman. As it does about anyone who fails to understand Superman, a very easy-to-grasp character who is nonetheless extremely deep.

I'm not the biggest fan of Gunn, especially his older work. It stank of dark irony and the kind of bitterness cis-white-men are weirdly attached to. He's gotten significantly better! But that still lurks in his work in ways that always detracts from the overall fun.

But so far, everything I've seen of the upcoming Superman? I'm hopeful! Happy! Excited!

I HAAAAATED Man of Steel, deeply. As a film, and especially as a Superman film. It really showed how fucking STUPID DC was for hiring him, how little thought they put into it and how much they were just chasing after 'Grimdark' bullshit without consideration.

Zack Snyder is best when he's making his own original movies. They are really rather dumb but enjoyably so? His work for DC was all some of the worst crap, not the worst movies ever, I've seen too many terrible movies, but fundamentally NOT quality movies. Writing, cinematography, directing, music, sound mixing, all of it. Not good. Not the worst, but just bad.

not to shit on zack snyder again but it's really funny that he tried to make a big, grand, complex moral quandary on where superman should stand when he saves people around the world and then james gunn is like "he wants to do it because he thinks it's the right thing to do". sometimes going simpler means you get to the crux of what the character is all about much more efficiently. like wow it's really that easy

[crescencestudio]

Hi! I was wondering, will the full game cost money? I’m assuming yes because of how much work is being poured into this. Also, do you have a price range for the full game?

SO...... THIS IS ACTUALLY SOMETHING I WANTED TO TALK TO U ALL ABOUT AND I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO SUMMON THE COURAGE FOR IT FOR LITERALLY THE PAST IDK HOW MANY MONTHS...... I WAS GONNA TELL U ALL ON MY BDAY NEXT WEEK SO U COULDNT BE MEAN TO ME WHEN I ANNOUNCE IT SKXISOOSOS BUT I GUESS ILL JUST SAY IT NOW...... (sorry anon im using ur question as an excuse to make an important announcement)

Yes, Alaris will be paid, and it will be $15 USD ($12 USD for Early Access)

NOW..... FOR THOSE OF U WHO HAVE BEEN HERE A LONG TIME..... i know i have said in the past i was planning on alaris being $5-$7 but i cant emphasize how many times i was told by gamers and dev friends alike to increase the price. ppl literally BEGGED me bc i was Severely underselling myself and my work. even now with me making the price $15, ppl have been telling me its still undervaluing the worth of the game.

i know $15 is much more than i said the game would be and for a long time, i wanted to keep the price low for accessibility reasons. but as time has gone on and the amount of work i've put into this game has increased, it seemed less and less fair for me to price the game at $5-$7. having worked on the game for 5 years now, that price would literally be compensating me $1/year which just kinda..,.,. feels like someone spit in my face KXKSOSOSSO.

on top of that, i'm at a different point as a developer than when i first started alaris. when i first started the game, it was my first game ever, i wasn't in it for any kind of commercial success and i just wanted to make a silly little game with my little fingies. but five years down the road, a lot has changed. i've invested way more time and effort into this game than i originally had expected, the player base has gotten bigger than i would've imagined, and my experience as a dev has come a long way. the product is just different from what i had first imagined, and as someone no longer completely inexperienced, i also see myself differently (in a good way)!

alaris has always been my child but it's more than that now. it represents five years of growing as a developer, and i think the art assets and writing rly showcase that. i honestly think $15 is an extremely fair price for the game given the amount of content in it. it's partially voice acted, has 60+ backgrounds, will have 50+ CGs, 15 character sprites, 350k words, 6 routes, like... the list goes on ykwim. and compared to other vns of similar lengths/quality, $15 is more than reasonable.

i know some ppl will say they can't afford this which is totally fair, and i do plan on eventually having sales on the game so that it can be around that $5-$7 price (much later down the road). but i hope you all can understand where i'm coming from as a developer and someone who does have their own bills and life expenses to pay for. and more than that, i hope you can support this decision as a player who also sees the same value in the game that i do <3

[behindthemirrorofmusic]

Remembering Michael Jackson today. Michael was a big fan of Musical Theatre and The Phantom of the Opera was his favourite production which he visited many times. Andrew Lloyd Webber has often talked about the times he spent discussing music and theatre as well as various projects with Michael. Here is an article he wrote about this in 2009.

"I first met Michael when he came to see Phantom of the Opera in New York when we'd just opened in 1988. He was clearly interested in the piece. He saw it several times and used to come backstage, often without the entourage that followed him around in later life.

The story got to him. I think he had a connection with the lonely, tortured musician. He found the idea of somebody working through music and having a girl as a muse very intriguing – and he loved that there was illusion in the show.

Michael became interested in playing The Phantom himself, in a movie version of the show. We talked about it a lot, but we'd only just opened and, at the time, I felt that it was too early for it to become a film. I felt his interest in Phantom was because he was interested in doing something theatrical himself.

He was a highly theatrical animal. I remember him saying to me that he'd seen Cats and how happy he was that dance was making a comeback in the theatre. He certainly talked about theatre a lot, and when he was last in London, he went to see Oliver!. Of course, he was a great showman himself, but he found the whole stagecraft of musicals extraordinary.

Seeing clips of Thriller on the news this week reminded me what an extraordinary dancer he was. He really brought dance and staging into the pop world, through his videos and concerts. Nobody before him had really done anything much like that. He was ahead of his time with all that he did.

I saw him a couple of times in concert. Thriller was probably the best stage event I've ever seen. From my musical-theatre perspective, I could see that he was bringing a completely new vision about dance to the stage. A tremendous amount of what he was doing then you see in musicals now.

Musically, Michael was also different to anyone before him. He was clever at taking pop hooks and using them in original ways, developing them theatrically. It's an influence that is now everywhere today. I remember listening to a Justin Timberlake album and hearing Michael's influence.

Young people still keep coming to his music because so many of his songs are classics. In the history of pop, Thriller will possibly stand out more than Sergeant Pepper because there were even more stand-alone hits on it. It's right up there with the all-time great albums.

Similarly, I would absolutely put him up there with the all-time greatest performers. I've seen most of the top rock acts – I saw Elvis several times – but with Michael's concerts, his showmanship was consummate. Very few rock singers have such quality.

Everybody was so looking forward to seeing what he would do when he came back to London. From what I was hearing, he was going to push the boundaries of what we'd seen in a rock arena much, much further.

The debts, all the court cases, and the trouble he got himself into, it was all so sad. But you can probably say already that his music has transcended all of that. Nothing sticks to him. In the end, the music will always survive."

[thetrasha]

Hey, Tasha!

I'm the anon who requested the ideal types and the Corazon fluff (I have made many more requests than I usually do on other blogs so now I don't even know what to say to get you to identify me anymore lol)

Well since it looks like I'll keep making requests, I feel it necessary to apologize if my English is weird sometimes. I'm actually just an alien trying to learn human languages 👽 and that's also the reason why my requests are usually so vague 😔🤚

Anyway, my ask today is: What do you think about the Straw Hats' love languages?

Hello anon (✿◡‿◡)

Well, if you want an identifying trait, you can choose any emoji you like and I'll create a tag for you :D Love to see so many anons return to me time and time again, means I'm doing something right LOL (and I love those requests! So don't worry about sending them in frequently, it's fine and I appreciate it)

Your English is literally perfect, so don't apologise!! Well, it's not like I can be an authority on this either😭 My first language is German, I'm just a bilingual goblin but I hide it pretty well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I hope you like this one and take care~~ ╰(*°▽°*)╯

Love Languages

STRAW HAT EDITION

LUFFY

PRIMARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Physical Touch

Luffy loves to wrap himself around your frame like a human scarf. His rubber arms aid him in circling themselves around you multiple times – he just feels so needed when he holds you, and it eases his worries. He’s lost great many things, but he’d never actually want to miss you from his life; that’d be the final blow. He’s so happy that you’re there to reciprocate his hugs, kisses, random cuddles and play off of his silly antics. You’re his safe haven, which means he’s more likely to touch you more enthusiastically; you can feel that grin of his approaching before his arms snap around you, his voice screaming your name soon following suit…

SECONDARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Gift Giving

Now he’s by no means the type to shower you with lavish gifts, but Luffy’s definitely the type to hand you some random shell he’s found at the beach or a cool charm he’s bought at the local market just because he’d think you’d enjoy these things. He’s not one for grand romantic gestures, but those small things do add up over time and your collection of knick-knacks is thus ever-growing. In his mind, he wants to share his life with you, so attaching every positive emotion and unforgettable memory to a little trinket is what sharing is all about. One day, you’ll lay in his arms and reminisce in memories – just because you’re holding a really smooth rock he’s found on Amazon Lily…

Luffy would melt if your primary love language was Physical Touch.

He needs someone who reciprocates his touch just as enthusiastically, someone who’d make him feel secure in his empathetic nature. It will lay his greatest anxieties about abandonment to rest.

ZORO

PRIMARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Acts of Service

Zoro always aims to take some weight off your shoulders. You’re his one and only, but he has trouble voicing his thoughts since he’s a firm believer that actions speak louder than words. He doesn’t want to make empty promises; he’s a go-getter so he’s just going to do anything he feels would benefit you. Whether it’s as simply as turning off your alarm clock or as complex and emotionally charged as protecting you in battle – he doesn’t care. In fact, he would lay down his own life to preserve yours if it came down to it. Once Zoro swears loyalty to someone, he’s in it for life and nothing could ever stray him away from his chosen path.

SECONDARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Quality Time

If it wouldn’t be for the entire crew nagging him and forcing him into a community, Zoro would be solitary in nature. He’s autonomous and self-sufficient, always ready to defend his independence and his great ambitions, but he’d throw that instinct away if his friends or partner as much as asked for his presence. Despite his rougher side, he’s incredibly honourable – he is there when he is needed. He believes that your relationship has such a strong foundation because you both keep reinforcing that bond with that undivided attention you give to one another. The gestures aren’t big and excessive, but they’re steady and secure. Everything he does reminds you of the essence of him.

Zoro would melt if your primary love language was Words of Affirmation.

He needs someone who recognises his efforts and put things into words that he’s often too repressed to say. Hearing that you’re proud of him and grateful for his time will feed his soul for weeks.

USOPP

PRIMARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Gift Giving

Usopp engages in many endeavours that make him a bit of a MacGyver. His creations may not look like much, but they are incredible pieces of engineering. He often just lounges about in his workshop to think about what to tinker on next… and that’s how you slowly start creeping up in his mind. You’ve become so important to him and he doesn’t have the means to treat you how he thinks you should be treated, which is exactly why you’ll have Usopp gifting you little crafts he’s made that make your life a little easier.

SECONDARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Words of Affirmation

Many people don’t believe him when he’s trying to genuinely express himself, but you had never once doubted him. That alone encourages him so much yet you also appreciate his compliments and words of encouragement? Usopp would seek you out all the time, just to hear your opinion on various things that pertain to him, always offering his own commentary in return, too. Overall, he’s quite good at communicating and finds a healthy way to show you his love in your relationship. Every time, without fail!

Usopp would melt if your primary love language was Quality Time.

Usopp’s always been made to feel like a brazen liar while trying to cope with the loss of two parents. Deep down, his need for community and deep connection is fuelled by the idea that nobody could ever possibly want to be with him. He, who is neither brave nor great but just… Usopp. Your undivided attention on him would startle him. You really want to be with him? He… cannot comprehend it, but he’s grateful.

SANJI

PRIMARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Words of Affirmation

Praise and kindness really make Sanji’s whole week – and it means so much more if he can dish it out freely without having someone question his motive for that comment or act suspicious towards him for a mere compliment. As a hopeless romantic, he craves to voice his thoughts and thus makes about three to four love declarations every day, but you don’t even mind. You entertain him with a smile and then you brush a hand through his blond locks, looking at him with a shine in your eyes that makes him blush…

SECONDARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Acts of Service

Sanji naturally takes care of others even if it comes from a place of self-pity and insecurity – it is still hard-coded into him to look after his loved ones and make they day-to-day life a little brighter by making everything run a bit more smoothly, but he takes it up an entire notch with you. You are his love, so… you get nothing less than the royal treatment. He’s there at your beck and call to pay you back for the incredible experiences you’ve given him. He’s hopelessly and madly in love with you, so he’s doing it all. From opening doors for you all the way to helping you out in big ways, like swooping in to defend your honour in front of a villain (enemy pirate – he’s dramatic, okay…), Sanji’s willing to do it all.

Sanji would melt if your primary love language was Acts of Service.

He needs someone who would have the same innate desire to watch him enjoy his day and take some of his pain away. He’d actually cry if he was the one getting pampered.

FRANKY

PRIMARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Words of Affirmation

Franky truly sees you for who you are and would become your personal hype man if that’s what you wanted and needed from him. He’d ecstatically comment on everything he likes about you and listen to anything you’d say, promptly declaring that you’re super great and that he counts himself lucky to have been able to woo you. This man would swell with pride if anyone asked him whether he was your boyfriend. First of all, he’s happy that anyone noticed. He’s big on PDA, so anything he deems subtle may be quite obvious to most other people, but second of all, he intuitively views you as his equal and wants to include you in every conversation, especially if you’re more reserved than him. Franky would encourage you to commit to it all – wear whatever you want, you’d look super good either way, eat that slice of cake, you want it, don’t you? and, most importantly, of course you’d be welcome in his workshop, he’s been dying to show you this cool thing anyway!

SECONDARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Quality Time

For someone who lives in the fast lane of life, his intellect guarantees a plethora of knowledge and a natural curiosity for the inner workings of the world. He prefers to share his quiet moment with you and dedicate his time to you, uninterrupted and unbothered. Those date nights are usually filled with excitement and leave you laughing for the rest of the night. He’s the life of the party, but you’re his world.

Franky would melt if your primary love language was Gift Giving.

Franky would be happy with anything you give; after all, you used your super awesome brain to associate this cute object with his likeness, so it’s automatically a sweet gesture in his book, ...but those rare, deeply thoughtful moments count the most. They’re tokens of your love and he’d be a fool if he denied that his mechanical heart was overheating at that. He gets emotional.

BROOK

PRIMARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Quality Time

Brook, more than anything else, wants to make memories that last a lifetime or two. Your one on one time is absolutely sacred to him – romance is something he’d never thought he’d get to experience ever again; after so much has been taken from him, he truthfully believed that anything he had left was his soul and nobody would want to spend their limited time on this Earth with something as grotesque as him… but you do. You don’t believe that your time is wasted on him at all, so he eventually musters up the courage to take whatever he can get. Brook is so, so close to you, always ready to make time for you, always ready to take you somewhere special and make the experience worthwhile… He’s an artist and his visions for the time you share are as bright and vibrant as his soul; there’s never a moment where you don’t forget the doom and gloom everybody has to deal with sometimes.

SECONDARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Physical Touch

Even though there’s not much softness to him anymore, he loves trailing his fingers over your warm skin and he’s also quite cheeky and lovingly squeezes any of your supple flesh he can find, just to hear you utter a sound of surprise and let your eyes wander towards him. Brook is unbelievably happy to know you don’t mind that he doesn’t have any tissue to cushion the snuggles he loved to hand out unexpectedly. You just roll with it… and it makes him feel so alive and normal.

Brook would melt if your primary love language was Physical Touch.

He would actually let out ugly sobs if you decided to exchange physical contact with him frequently. It fuels the fire that sings for you every day, it is euphoria, it is a renaissance – no, a revelation! Brook wouldn’t have ever thought that someone like you, someone so clearly out of his league, would love him so, so much, but he laps your attention up, always smiling down at you.

JINBE

PRIMARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Acts of Service

He knows just how hard life can be; he’s had a lot of life experience and has seen the good, the bad and the ugly. Life has its ups and downs and everybody has their individual background, but he’s always wanted to help you grow past your burdens. He’s a great listener, gives great advice and is just generally helpful, so this is definitely how he’d approach your love life, too.

SECONDARY LOVE LANGUAGE: Words of Affirmation

Jinbe is a natural at empathising with others and affirming their greatest strength. With you, it comes so easily that you don’t even realise that this is him expressing his love sometimes and instead just another part of his personality, but the depth of his words sometimes truly strike you. They’re always profound. It’s not a compliment said in passing just to cheer you up, he wants you to recognise you for who you are and choose the path that’s best for you. Also, he often straightforwardly tells you that he loves you. As someone who doesn’t offer much PDA, Jinbe makes up for it with words that don’t just whisper his affections. He’s proudly declaring those words for anyone to hear.

Jinbe would melt if your primary love language was Quality Time.

He knows that spending time all by yourself is a rather rare occurrence when you’re at sea, but he appreciates your efforts to make it happen so much. It makes him feel wanted and desired in a way he’s never been before and he just has to smile at you whenever you dive deep into his own personal story, wanting to learn more about him – it delights him and he knows that you remember everything, he sees that sparkle in your eyes.

[hazard-haze]

Eddie and Volt headcanons (no player)

Soooooo

My brain has decided this shit is my new hyperifxation

And that these are my new comfort characters

But I heard that everyone was getting a hate ending with them and guess who got friendship with them first tryyyyyy! So uh, skill issue/j heres some headcanons for ya'll :)

-He doesn't do it often because he knows Eddie hates it, but Volt can 110% pick up Eddie and will abuse this power if he needs to

-Eddie is Volt's anger translator. It usually goes something like this:

Volt: "We are sorry you weren't satisfied with our service, but this is the best we can do and I'm going to have to ask you to leave now."

Eddie *passing by behind him*: "Pay your fucking tab and get out!"

-Volt cannot keep his hands still, he tries to play it off suave-ly (?) by just tapping his fingers and running his hand through his hair repeatedly but when he gets really excited or angry about something he will wave his hands with big, fast, eccentric gestures.

-Volt wears eyeliner, sometimes Eddie helps him put it on.

-Eddie is very talented at most things he does, fixing, building, mixing drinks (he can even do some tricks with shakers), and there's a plethora of odd things he's picked up throughout the years. However this makes him get pretty frustrated when things don't work out the first couple times he attempts something. While not the main reason, this is part of why he was so frustrated and irritable during most of his main plot. Volt sometimes has to remind him that it's okay to not have everything figured out immediately, or pull him from his work if he's starting to stress out or exhaust himself too much.

-On the topic of pulling Eddie from his work, that is a feat. Volt full well knows he can't just ask Eddie to take a break, usually he has to either ask him to do something easier as a favor, or blame the break on himself.

"Oh Eddie, I know your in the middle of something but could you wipe the bar down? I have no time before we open."

"Eddieeeee, I have no one to watch the new season of Cougar vs Cougar with! Would you take a break to and come watch it with me? Please! Just for a little bit! Just one episode!" (They got through like 2 1/2 before Eddie passed tf out)

-Oh yeah, Volt loves reality TV and Eddie pretends to not be at least a little invested.

-Eddie can draw. Volt cannot. Volt is very jealous of Eddie in this regard.

-Infodumpingggggggg. They infodump to one another without even realizing it, it is so much of how they communicate. They will ramble and bounce ideas off each other, mostly about the club but about other stuff too.

-On the flip side. They can also communicate by saying pretty much nothing, just through brief glances. I think it would partly be because they are literally split from the same thing but it's more in that way when you widen your eyes slightly at your bestie and that equates to like a full paragraph of text.

-Eddie is short af, Volt is tall af.

-Volt makes fun of Eddie for being short

-Like seriously ya know that audio that's like "I know we don't always see eye to eye" "that because your too short to do so"

-Eddie will get revenge. He can kick/punch really hard but he can also come up with some other very clever ways of revenge. Do not mess with the guy who has access to the tools.

-Neither of them really like just hard liquor. Volt likes sweeter drinks and Eddie likes quality craft beers. If either sees the other drinking something like scotch/whiskey they can usually assume somethings wrong.

-Volt has sooooo many ideas for the club, several of which are not exactly... possible. Eddie has to be the one to break the news to him that No Volt we can't break down the retaining wall of the bar and turn it into an inanimal fish tank. Why? Because without it the roof would collapse!

-Volt's love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation

-Eddie's love language is acts of service.

-Going deeper into that, Volt loves physical touch, as previously mentioned. Eddie however does not. But they make it work, Eddie can tell when Volt needs a hug or just to have someone next to him, Volt can tell when Eddie is getting overstimulated or just needs space.

-They both have their ears pierced. Volt did it for both of them.

-Eddie actually quite likes talking to people, I mean he's definitely tended the bar at some point, he just doesn't like talking to annoying people. He's sarcastic and his humor is a bit deadpan and he's more reserved, but he 100% can be very funny and hold conversations very well with patrons and even better with friends.

-That being said, bro does not chat while he works on maintenance. If anyone, including Volt, is working with him, he isn't saying shit unless its telling them what to do, or looking over their work. If someones lucky they get a "Good job."

-Neither have ever been a fan of the dark, but they especially would not be after the black out.

-They both hate silence, I mean they work in a night club, at this point it just feels unnatural.

-Kinda already mentioned this but Volt gets quiet angry and Eddie gets loud angry. If Volt goes silent, you know you fucked up. On the opposite end, it will sometimes be assumed that Eddie is mad because he's being quiet but that just how he is, if Eddie actually is properly yelling you know he's upset.

-Nerve damage babyyyyyy. It is all up Eddie's arms, contributes to why he's not super touchy because his arms get that awful pulling, itchy, pain when something touches them.

-Volt can get some nasty fatigue. The electricity fluctuates? Bro is immediately drained, head rush, migraine, the whole shabang.

-Not really headcanon but neither of them are good at admitting they need help or at accepting it when its offered.

-They both know each others triggers tho, and make sure to tell the other to rest when they need to. Neither take their own advice.

-Eddie hyperfocuses like crazy. If he sits down with his tools, something to fix and no one around he will not move from that spot for hours.

-Volt is always jumping from project to project, person to person, never slowing down. There's a lot to do in the breaker box and he is more than happy to juggle all of it.

-Both of them forget to sleep because of these facts. and eat (do they eat?). and talk to other things. and talk to each other. and-

-They would be cat people. Volt has definitely brought up getting an inanimal from Mateo but Eddie is always hesitant (even though he would 100% end up loving it to bits if they got one)

----

Ya'll I think I'm a loser. Instead of being out on a night off I am sitting in my bedroom writing headcanons about an actual breaker box in a dating sim that I'm not even attracted to, I just think their silly. What is my life T-T

[absolutebl]

My Favorite BL from each country VERSUS the BL I think actually best reflects that country's style in 2025

Japanese BL

My top pick for JBL (live action yaoi)?

Seven Days

Honestly? I did dither over whether to hand this title over to I Cannot Reach You, but I had to go with my heart and the earlier offering. I like that this show is not only the best the Japan can do, but also the best they once did, too. Seven Days is the greatest heritage BL anywhere on earth. Fight me, I dare you.

Best current rep of JBL?

Miseinen: Mijukuna Oretachi wa Bukiyo ni Shinkochu aka Our Youth

Lots to pick from here, Japan has been doing great work over the last few years. Although, as one expects from them it's beens about 50/50 soft BLs versus harsh ones, with lots of spice and some challenging concepts thrown in to keep us on our toes. While I prefer my BL gentle, I think these days Japan is actually strongest in the BL sphere when they go sharp and edgy. They seem to handle difficult concepts with the most honesty and consideration, so.... Our Youth wins.

Thai BL

My top pick for ThBL?

Until We Meet Again

UWMA will always be my favorite Thai BL. I can't imagine it ever getting unseated. But it's incredibly atypical for a Thai BL because the story is so very strong. And story is not Thailand's strong suit.

Best current rep of ThBL?

Your Sky

Yes we are getting more prestige and chaos BLs like Pit Babe these days, but those are still less common than the classic uni-set fluff. Thailand's strength remains vested in its consummate chemistry and gentleness with its characters. It's not that soft BLs are the best Thai BLs, it's that soft is Thailand's most successful BL bailiwick. I was very very tempted by both Wandee Goodday and ThamePo since one major trend in Thai BL lately is that it's moving into the workplace, but GMMTV's filming quality is too high to accurately represent for Thailand.

I felt the need to go a little pulp with this pick, since pulp is still what Thailand primarily produces. Thus Your Sky is a clear winner as it reps for both the now (green flags, yay!) and the enormous back catalogue of Thai BL.

Korean BL

My top pick for KBL?

Semantic Error

Korea occupies more 10/10 spots in my heart than anyone else, but this was still an easy pick. Out my many KBL favorites (Color Rush, Light On Me, Our Dating Sim, Semantic Error, To My Star) there is only one 10/10 that I have called, frequently, Korea's pitch perfect BL. The pinnacle of smoothly executed pristine romance, I'm handing Semantic Error the crown with confidence.

Best current rep of KBL?

Love For Love's Sake

Another easy pull, Love For Love's Sake showcases the way Korea is pushing to explore interesting (slightly darker) concepts while staying true to their signature style and aesthetic. This was the only KBL in 2024 to get a high mark from me. So as more recent KBLs go, this is it.

2024 was not a great year for them, IMHO. But it would have been hard to beat the bumper crop that was 2023.

Taiwanese BL

My top pick for TaBL?

We Best Love

Always and forever. Like Thailand, Taiwan has only managed a 10/10 rank once, for this series. Despite the fact that, if pressed, I would call Taiwanese BL my favorite. WBL is just everything I love about Taiwan's messy, slightly unhinged, high drama, high domesticity, high chemistry, style of BL. Someday, we all hope, they will be able to repeat this magic. (Which I, frankly, can't say about Thailand and UWMA.)

Best current rep of TaBL?

See Your Love

I might call Kiseki: Dear to Me closer to Taiwan's typical style these days, but that aired too long ago now. So I am going to pick SYL partly on the basis of its recency. But also this is an ABSOLUTELY darling show. The cheekiness, the chemistry, the charm, the fashion, the classy way it handles content other countries simply can't or won't tackle (like queerness, mental health, or in this case, disability), the slightly bonkers plot (kidnapping, really?), and the utter squee that is gay domesticity in spades? Quintessential Taiwanese BL.

Vietnamese BL

My top pick for VBL?

You Are Ma Boy

I dithered for between this and My Lascivious Boss, both from 2021 which I think can now be considered the heyday of VBL. I like them both about the same, but the seme in this one is less red flag so I went with YAMB.

It's pretty classic VBL in that is is very messy with its story and characters, great on chemistry and domesticity, and while often fun there will always be elements that make us wince, whether it's a trigger or not. VBL is, in a word, clumsy but there is a raw chaotic good to it that I enjoy. I miss that a lot.

Best current rep for VBL?

Mr Cinderella

This was a real challenge since I have DNF'd most VBL over the last few years. The most recent one I actually enjoyed was 2022's Mr Cinderella. Higher production values and experienced BL actors plus two charismatic leads with good kissing and comfortable body language made this Vietnam’s objectively best BL to date. Frankly, it should occupy both slots.

Pinoy BL

My top pick for PBL?

My Day

My Day is my favorite PBL. Although Gameboys and Like In The Movies are rated just as high, My Day is the only VBL I ever rewatch. It's just so much FUN. All are from 2020, which it I guess means that was the heyday for PBL. Sigh. I miss it, too.

Best current rep for PBL?

Tie The Not

As many BLs as I have DNF'd from Vietnam I have dropped twice as many from the Philippines over the last few years. Tie The Not is a 2023 offering that came as close as anything over the last 5 years to winning back my heart. It missed the mark a bit, earning only a 7/10 but there was a small part of me that hoped it represented a resurgence. It did not. Still, it is the best we have had from them in a long time.

Chinese BL

My top pick for CBL?

Addicted

This remains one of my favorite BLs, and one of the best made and most truly heart wrenching out of China. It is great... if you ignore the ending. And that too is a very CBL thing. There is something about the cold atmosphere and rural setting plus the honest uncensored living conditions that really get to me (and probably got to the CCP as much as the boys kissing.)

Best current rep for CBL?

Meet You At The Blossom

This is hard because I don't know exactly where we are, but we are displaced out of time at the moment it feels like 2015 in CBLandia, not 2025. Either time period there is no way this can last. Appreciate Revenged Love while we got it because... yeah, it is representative of CBL - but CB as it might have been in 2020, and probubly won't be in the future. That's if it is allowed to finish it's run.

Look, we have had so little real CBL for so long, smattered with some censored bromance and sneaky only-international stuff, it's been a mad unpredictable ten years. As often happens when art is interfered with by waring factions of censorship and commerce.

All of this to say, I chose Meet You At The Blossom not because it's representative of modern CBL (there is no true modern CBL since it was never allowed to evolve), but because it's such a strange fabulous flaming creature. Like an IRL phoenix, we must appreciate it for this moment in time, before it combusts once again.

That said the best thing we have seen out of China in a very long time is actually Secrets Happened on the Litchi Island, which everyone should go watch immediately. And I do mean everyone.

But it isn't really BL, it's something more like an art installation meets fever dream with BL trappings that some of us are lucky enough to catch on YouTube. You should catch it.

Others worth mentioning

Stay Still

2023 BL from Hong Kong

What to say about this offering? It’s different, a mix of early CBL, Taiwanese shorts, and Pinoy visuals. It felt like the story was 2 independent shorts that had been lengthened and then smooshed together, and I wish they'd been approached as separate and tighter entities.

Nevertheless, this was a complex little piece, interesting in a sweaty grungy way, with a certain aura of queer authenticity that made it simultaneously tense, unpredictable, and refreshing. I’m not sure I would necessarily call it BL, but any county’s early foray into the genre usually starts out this way, so perhaps nascent BL? Worth watching, especially if you enjoy stuff from the Philippines and Taiwan.

Began Beginning

Burmese BL from 2024

Childhood best friends must come to terms with their own identities and true feelings for each other when a new boy comes to town, putting them into conflict with their families and ultimately, each other. For the first half of this show there’s a lot of sitting across from each other and talking about life choices over yummy food and then going to tourist spots (mildly boring and not particularly important to the plot). It changed tone about 2/3 in to be way more of a coming out family drama about forced marriages and homophobia. And then at the very end it changed again, becoming a full on soap opera with kidnapping, crazy characterization shifts, and rescue missions.

All in all? It was a wild raw creature to consume. No kisses since this is Myanmar, but a very romantic end, so I think maybe actually worth your time? I'm certainly glad I watched it.

Pure Vanilla

Singapore's 2023 microfilm

This is a short sweet offering from Singapore. It's a bit awkward acting but the tats are real and the feel is genuinely soft and queer. At the time it aired I said that I wished Singapore would give us a full proper BL.

Well, I got my wish as Sparkle in You Eye is airing right now - but I'm very much NOT sure about it. I prefer the Summerdaze style of BL from Singapore, not that they have enough BL to have a signature style yet.

Still it's nice to have them serving up... something.

Anygay, that's if for now.

This post dated June 2025, not responsible for BLs unfinished as of the time of this post. Favorites, both old and new, can always be unseated.

(source)

[cloudbends]

So. skip and loafer chapter 72 thoughts. lives were changed.

it's something i say endlessly, but what truly works so beautifully about shima and mitsumi's dynamic is that, first and foremost, its constituted on both of their genuine admiration and appreciation of each other as people, and as forces in each others' lives that make them strive to better themselves and become worthy of the other. i think their last interaction in this chapter encapsulates this perfectly on both ends.

shima, since the beginning of this manga, prominently never initiates physical touch. he simply doesn't do it with anyone other than mitsumi, and then when he very rarely does, it's in incredibly significant moments. given both of his social status that he sorely hates, and our newfound knowledge of his relationship with his mother, characterized by trauma of abuse, it makes sense - his wariness of physical touch crystallizes his wariness of showing vulnerability and exposing his true self to others. the first to come to mind is in chapter 11, when he grabs mitsumi's hand - it's a similarly sudden gesture that symbolizes shima's rare vocalisation of his feelings for her:

Considering these two moments are 60 chapters apart, it's incredible to see just how much both of them have grown. how shima's beautiful character arc culminates in fulfilling himself and letting his emotions out after bottling them for the vast majority of his life, and how coming to terms with his past and re-finding his passion allows him to come to terms with his feelings and act on them - because he finally feels like a whole enough person, worthy of the person he admires and loves. Shima had to have gone through his arc - open himself up on stage and gain some sort of closure from his mother, allowing to "be a kid again" as he ought to be instead of forcing himself to adopt the facade of maturity, in order to, for once, he acts on a whim - to show his genuine appreciation for mitsumi which he's only been able to internally ruminate over.

I think the significance of this gesture for mitsumi cannot be understated either. It's been established many times over that just as shima struggles with wanting to catch up to mitsumi, mitsumi has had similar feelings of inadequacy in comparison (see: "i always knew it was too much for me"), and it's been apparent that she's been somewhat walking on eggshells ever since their breakup. while of course mitsumi has self esteem and it's one of her great qualities, she is also significantly characterized by insecurities - thinking she wants to be important to shima one day, thinking, after the breakup, "of course this amazing person was never within reach for someone like me". which might make one insane given how absolutely important she is to shima. this is why she purposely chooses to shy away form approaching him at first, regardless of how mesmerised she's been by his performance - he's surrounded by people which, she assumes, are more important than her - and so she settles for staying in the back, but wishes to tell him how genuinely great he was. so in this sense, mitsumi is posited in a similar position to the one shima has been - they're both constantly struggling to become worthy of the person they admire. shima, having been so emotionally paralysed to the point he couldn't convey his feelings to mitsumi properly, probably fed into her subconscious feelings of his being out of her reach.

That's why that moment is so incredibly cathartic for both of their character arcs. shima, having finally come to terms with both his feelings and his past, is finally taking his turn to externalise his feelings like mitsumi did before, while mitsumi finally gains the appreciation and recognition she's been subconsciously missing. finally, they (hopefully) realize their outmost importance to one another - shima caught up to mitsumi not just in having fulfilled himself or (at least in his own eyes, as we all know he always was) being worthy of mitsumi, but also in voicing his feelings for her. and i'm so proud of him !!! the writing being so careful and nuanced around it just, yet again, shows the masterful understanding of human relationships in skip and loafer. i love these two so much

[melancholicstation]

being JFK jr.'s assistant: a collection of headcanon's!

authors note: many apologies if this is illegible, i didn't have time to edit, also tried something new with the formatting of the moodboard. let me know your thoughts, feelings etc. for context this is set in NYC, early 1995, with assistant!reader working to aid in the start-up of john's political magazine 'george' ahead of its september release!

the interview process is most ardently held at harry cipriani's

john get's the chicken spezzatino al curry with spiced rice, and you get the cucumber salad with avocado, cherry tomatoes, and corn...

which was intentionally picked by you as it was the least expensive thing your eyes could scan on the menu as you weren't sure that your current waitress salary could sustain a cipriani-bill type of hit.

(little did you know, john had every intention of picking up the bill at the end of the interview)

you get the job with little fanfare, i get the feeling that john would try to keep it professional-ish initially (though I feel he would keep a pretty casual atmosphere with his employees)

i feel that john would throw the craziest work holiday party ever to existence!

and that's where i would posit you and John would hit it off and maybe engage in a few cheeky workplace clandestine touches/neck kisses/murmurs of praise that could be regarded by outsiders as a normal boss/employee dynamic

there's definitely some on-and-off period between you and john, mostly caused by you because of your (valid) reservations over the power-dynamic and not wanting to screw up a very high paying job in the city

however, i feel that through you learning john and his personality and temperament your worries about toxic dynamics that could fester fall to the wayside!

once the media gets a whiff of your relationship with john, it's lady di when she first started her courtship with king charles—levels of paparazzi and media attention from the gossip rags and daytime television shows

this is the energy of the pap shots: very much giving a chic defiance against ever giving the paparazzi the attention they so clearly court:

he would be very protective of you in the media, especially since you never intended to be thrust into such a harsh and unforgiving spotlight when you first applied for the administrative position at the magazine

he would absolutely bargain information about himself to press just to give you a break in the media (which is saying something as he seemed to genuinely loathe press intrusion)

despite not having time to actually prepare him a meal for him to eat at the office (since you have, y'know, an actual job to do) you order him a jambon-beurre from rigor hill market,

and attach a handwritten note (something soft, and tender, and embarrassing saccharine) using the leftover parchment concealing the lunch

i'm picturing assistant!reader's style to oscillate between 90s minimalism and couture avant-garde due to her career in print magazines. think masculine pieces (suits, loafers, polo's, ringer tees...) that give a feminine edge because of the painstaking couture level tailoring that reveal the reader's shape:

a daily uniform to the george magazine office would be: a poplin sky blue tuxedo shirt (unbuttoned to the second button to make it more dégagé) for the top, a menswear-inspired tailored prada jacket to throw atop, the matching prada trousers for the bottom.

for the accessories i feel that while the silhouette and basic clothing articles are minimalist, assistant!reader would get a bit playful and more outré!

assistant!reader would NOT fall for the birkin bait however she would be fan of hermēs because of their craftsmanship and dedication to "old-world" quality control. she shops semi-frequently (cause i know our john-john is giving her a mammoth salary for an assistant living in NYC)

she has an SA (sales assistant) who knows her family members birthdays, and always sends a courteous card in honour of the occasion

i distinctly feel that assistant!reader wouldn't go for a kelly (or the aforementioned birkin) but instead perhaps she would go for a hermēs 'bolide', 'plume', or a 'lindy' in more muted colors that are still kind of reminiscent of mid-century paint swatches

here's a few cursory examples of the type of colors assistant!reader would be seen traipsing around the city with: rouge de coeur, rose jaipur, vert anis, vintage bambou, ultra violet clemence, orange H clemence, bleu aztec clemence (just to name a few, lol!)

i definitely don't think she would add any keychains around the bag—the silhouette of the leather would undoubtably speak for itself

(and she certainly would not attach a labubu to ANY of her expensive leather goods... seriously what are you people doing? you are under spells people! spells!)

reader assistant definitely has an account like @/lizzybenz on tiktok (i am utterly entranced with her and her sense of style/restraint of taste. she does quick outfit videos and keeps the rest of her life pretty private and that's such a vibe all the time and definitely assistant!readers vibe)

i feel like you and john's relationship would be pretty esoteric and hush-hush towards the media and people you both didn't know intimately.

that is, unless the relationship starts to get truly serious: an engagement is present/impending, or you move in together...

if that ever were to occur (you two moving in together or getting engaged) i'd picture it to be years later from the genesis of your relationship in a era where you've moved on from being john's assistant and work in a higher position either at 'george' or another publishing house in the city! (just because the assistant boss power dynamic could get annoying at best and noxious at worst)

i'm imagining that you two, in the early stages of your courtship, would go to the cape or perhaps somewhere closer to home base—amagansett.

the picture's would be reminiscent of this nature: (disregard the iphone quality—imagine it to be the much more flattering nineties film quality)

you habitually steal johns shirts to wear around the house

it's so bad to the point where he genuinely believes someone might creeps into the apartment at night with the primary intention to burglarise specifically his graphic t-shirts and no other valuables.

here are some delightful examples of what i'm picturing (some are links to ebay listings, others are brick and mortar, and others are simply digital): left, middle, right

he encourages you to buy some of your own so you do (at bergdorf ) and they tend to have more of a feminine silhouette such as: this, this, and this.

but you mostly use them for public, more casual outings and still you use his t-shirts for you to slumber in and to traipse around the apartment,

which he feigns to be annoyed at but he really isn't...

in fact it might even strike a possessive strike in him that had prior been left dormant in previous relationship's of his

so random but that man would be amazing at imitating bird sounds!

i just feel that in my heart #my truth

which makes sense, at least to me, because John seems like the type to very much peacock around his girlfriend to get her attention! as he is ought to do.

authors note: anyways, i didn't know where to end this, so I'm ending it here. off to have some earl grey and vanilla ice cream! sendinggentlenessandbountsoflove,

as a cute side quest, i made some outfit formulas that i could picture assistant!reader wearing for different occasions! hopeyouenjoy!

□ rudimentary solo polo-bar date

□ for rainy days (literally for rainy city days)

□ a harry's cipriani rendezvous with john

□ winter washington meet with the family

□ fashion after-party

love, melancholicstation

tags: @rocker-chick-7 @ultr4v1ol3nt @violetharmonsfavgf @strip-weather-forecast @darcyspirits @fortheloveofjos @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @h-l-vlovesvintage @bluelancergirl @snowsgames @salvatoresablondie @dulcegal @kennedyism @bloxholden35 @kimcrystal123 @absurdlyvintage @jackiesgirl @remotewatch @stargiirl27 @strryhaze @bluevelvetsunset @recentremreports

[alexbkrieger13]

https://www.theguardian.com/football/2025/jun/26/pernille-harder-denmark-euro-2025

P wrote an article 😊

I went back to the team where it all started. I am able to be the role model I never had

I recently spent time coaching 80 girls at FC Midtjylland, the team where I began my career but had to leave in my teens as they had no women’s team.

i will be on a plane on Monday with Denmark heading to Switzerland to take part in my fourth Euros, but before the tournament I went back to where it all began for me, to Danish side FC Midtjylland. I was there to spend time coaching 80 girls from the age of eight to 13.

More than 20 years ago, I began my own journey there and things looked very different then. There was no women’s team and no women who played football. For me to go back as a role model these girls gives me a lot of energy. There is no better way to ground yourself than to be reminded where you came from.

I’m really happy I am able to be that role model I didn’t have myself, but most importantly it’s fun. I love being around these young girls, some who are really good and all who are just happy to be on a pitch.

There was no future for me at the club and when I was about 14 I had to move to another one an hour’s drive away. Now, these girls are in here early – maybe a little too early – and are already started in small talent teams with high-quality training. They are being given an opportunity to develop in a way my generation was not.

In 10 years’ time, these girls are going to be so good. I was lucky I had parents who were supportive and willing to take me to a team I could play in, but there were a lot of girls who didn’t have the same opportunities and support. It’s crazy to think about how much talent was wasted. Now, these girls can play and train in the city they come from and the setups around them are of a much higher quality.

I can see the growth in the talent pool and the quality of the young players coming into the national team or the Denmark youth teams. The technique and control of the ball is so much better than that of my generation when we were coming through. It’s very interesting to see they have a natural understanding of the game as well.

It would be easy to think I would feel slightly envious of what is available now and it would have been interesting to see how good I could have been if I had the same setup. However, I gained in other ways from having to try to figure out for myself how to get better as a player.

View image in fullscreenThe Guardian named Pernille Harder as the best female footballer in the world in 2018 and 2020. Photograph: Susan De Klerk

They have different challenges though. There are a lot of things that are more difficult for them today. There is a lot more pressure from social media on the newer generation. That can affect their game, make them worry too much about making mistakes and then they’ve grown up constantly comparing themselves on social media and trying to get likes and follows. These are not good things to have in sport: you need to be confident in yourself and be able to play without fear of criticism or comparison.

It’s weird reflecting on the platform football has given me. When I was a kid I never would have considered I would be able to advocate for women’s rights, equality, the environment, for young people and speak up on so many other issues. These are the things you don’t realise you will reflect on as being as important – if not more – than the titles won. That platform wouldn’t exist without the titles, but even when I reflect on those, I spend more time thinking about the moments with teammates rather than lifting the trophy.

There is always pressure in major tournaments, but when women’s football is developing so quickly across Europe, knowing the effect of a good tournament more widely back in Denmark adds more pressure. If we get to the knockout stage and if we do well there, that is something that brings the country together. In the past few years there has been more and more attention on us so if we do well it could be hugely positive for the development of women’s football.

There is no denying our group is tough, with Sweden, Germany and Poland in it. We had a tough end to the Nations League, a 6-1 loss to Sweden, who we play in our first game in Switzerland, but I don’t think that loss has taken too much of our confidence from us. It’s motivation to show it was just a one-off.

Having played them so recently we don’t have to spend too much time on tactics and formations, it’s about being ready from the first minute, it’s about all 11 players having to be on it, it’s about the duels and it’s about the energy. When we play against the better teams it is as much about the mentality.

There is a personal edge to the game for me. Although we have played with and against each other many times, it is very special that I face my partner, Magda Eriksson, at a Euros for the first time.

How do we interact before a big game against each other? I don’t talk about our tactics and she doesn’t talk about their tactics, but we know each other pretty well and so do the countries. It’s hard for our families though – they get very nervous about us playing against each other because they want the best for both of us. That’s the difficult part, you want the best for each other, but not in that moment.

[narcissistic-witch]

Otto?... out of quite literally anyone else? That rule fucker? Sigh..

Not that I'm mad, just shocked.

*Slight scowl having an idea who said this* First off, no need to insult the man like that!

Secondly, Otto is the only man, aside from Hadrian, that I ever really bonded with! He has many qualities that have attracted me to men in the past!

*Huffs softly and mutters*

Though if I am being honest, I have no shot with him… He deserves so much more in life. That man is a fucking saint for Notch’s sake!

[aristenfromwarsaw]

OC Layers Tag Game

Thank you @bhaal-battle-beer-bard for tag ! I love tag games like this! You Saulus is amazing, I love her ❤️.

🌹LAYER ONE: THE OUTSIDE:

Name: Aristen Rosegrove / Aristen Rosegrove-Ancunín.

Eye Color: Elven blue 3.

Hair Style/Color: Tamiare from mod "Kay's Hair Mod" by Perseidipity. Color: Gold Blonde 3.

Height: 165 cm.

Clothing Style: Aristen loves dresses, elegant clothes and jewelry. And that's how she usually wears everyday. She also likes nice sexy clothes and lingerie, but that's only for Astarion 😈. She loves blue.

Best Physical Feature(s): Certainly her beautiful blue eyes and long, thick hair, which she styles with magic.

🌹 LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE

Fears: that someday it will become Dark Urge again; losing Astarion and other close ones.

Guilty Pleasure: lazing around in bed (usually with Astarion) while eating sweets and reading stupid books.

Biggest Pet Peeve: people who judge others without careful analysis and people who don't realize how dangerous vampires can be.

Ambition for the Future: help others as much as possible to cleanse themselves of sins and developing magic.

Render by @brabblesban

🌹LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS

First Thoughts Waking Up: "am I myself and do I feel the urge to murder ? or "Astarion, why did you and the cats take up more than half of the bed, and I'm lying on the edge again? "

What They Think About the Most: magic, Astarion, her past.

What They Think About Before Bed: about her foster family, cats and Astarion❤️.

What They Think Their Best Quality Is: her magical abilities.

🌹LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?

Dogs or Cats?

Single or Group Dates?

To be Loved or Respected?

Beauty or Brains?

🌹LAYER FIVE: DO YOU?

Lie: "yes, like most people".

Believe in Yourself: "I know that I'm pretty and I have great magical abilities. But at the same time I hate myself so much".

Believe in Love: "If it weren't for love, I wouldn't be dead.

Want Someone: "I only want Astarion. And cats, I love cats".

Shot by @mordeawearybone

🌹 LAYER SIX: HAVE YOU EVER?

Been on Stage: "no, it's not for me".

Done Drugs: "no".

Changed Who You Were to Fit In: "I dreaming of not being Dark Urge and not having a dark past behind me. But I know that will never change and I have accept it".

🌹LAYER SEVEN: WHAT’S THEIR…

Favorite colors: blue and pink.

Favorite animal: cat.

Favorite book: she doesn't have a favorite, she likes many genres, romances, adventures or crime stories.

Favorite game: she likes card and board games the most.

Shots by @dancunin.bsky.social on Blue Sky

🌹LAYER EIGHT: AGE

DOB: daddy Bhaal didn't leave a birth certificate 😅. She celebrates her birthday on the day she was taken from the temple of Bhaal.

How Old Will You Be: Aristen is the eternally young demigod. If no one or something kills her during her adventures, she doesn't have to worry about death and aging.

Does Age Matter: Aristen is eternally young and her partner is a 200+ year old spawn vampire, so age is just a meaningless number for her . 😅

🌹 LAYER NINE: FINISH THE SENTENCE

I love: "my beloved Astarion".

I feel: "bad, because of my past. I feel like people only see good and beauty in me, when they should see evil and rot".

I hide: "self-hatred, sad"

I miss: "all my loved ones who have died or will die, and I will still live and remember them."

I wish: "not be who I am. But I won't change that. So all I want is to be by your side through thick and thin. Look into your red eyes for eternity, because only love for you can save me."

No pressure tags: @andromedaancunin @oonalovesastarionssimpleplan @twilight-sanctuary ❤️