#i need to focus. i need to focus on myself for a bit. i need to make a fucking doctors appointment god forbid

[stealingpotatoes]

What's your opinion on Barriss and her story in Tales of the empire?

I liked it!! it was still a bit messy and needed more time or focus to work better, but it was LEAGUES better than morgan's episodes. my 2 pet peeves were "why was 4th sister 4th when she was clearly there before trilla (2nd) and reva (3rd)" (@just-prime pointed out they seem to have run out of inquisitor names LOL) and barriss' designs (partly cause head covering where???) or at least her inquisitor and episode 6 designs. both were so mid but i did a little sketchbook redesign of her inquisitor fit i watched it to heal myself

[sturniolo-fall-enthusiast]

Meet the Parents

Request: Hii🩷 can you maybe make like a fic where reader is matt’s girlfriend and friends with the triplets and after like a few months of dating Matt she meets their parents in Boston and she’s like nervous and stuff and they all try to calm her down and their parents and other brother end up loving her

The triplets are going to visit Boston for a little bit and Matt invited his girlfriend of five months, the girl immediately accepting the invitation. The general idea of meeting the rest of Matt's family and seeing where he grew up was amazing at first, but now that they're about to leave, she has nothing but anxiety coursing through her.

"What if your parents totally hate me? What if they think I'm not good enough and you deserve much better?" Y/N rants off any question that comes to mind.

"They won't think that." Matt insists. "I've talked about you countless times and my mom already loves you."

"So your dad might hate me." Y/N says.

"He doesn't hate you either." Matt says. "Stop psyching yourself out, sweetheart. I know you're nervous, but it'll go great. I promise." He kisses her on the forehead.

"We're back!" They hear Nick yell out, the other two triplets having gotten an Uber to go pick up some food for the group, Matt needing to stay and pack.

"Come on." Matt grabs her hands, pulling her to her feet. He leads her out as she continues to wrack with nerves.

"I'm not gonna be able to sleep tonight. I could totally embarrass myself and they'll hate me forever." Y/N whines.

"Baby..." Matt tries.

"What are you talking about?" Chris frowns.

"Y/N's nervous about meeting mom and dad." Matt says. "Despite me assuring her that it'll all be okay."

"They've been looking forward to meeting you." Nick says. "Mom will probably be attached to your hip all day asking questions and gushing over you." He laughs.

"Yeah, they ask about you whenever Matt talks to them." Chris says.

"What about Justin? He could totally hate me. You're his little brother, it may not--"

"Justin will be fine." Chris promises.

"Long as you and Matt are happy, that'll probably be all they need to be happy." Nick says, his brothers nodding in agreement.

"It'll be okay." Matt promises, cupping his girlfriend's face. "And if you're too nervous, I'm right there the whole time. I promise." He pecks her on the lips.

"Can you guys save that for later so we're not throwing up during our meal?" Chris pleads.

"Shut up, Chris." Matt rolls his eyes.

---

They're at the airport in Boston, waiting on the boys' parents. Y/N barely got sleep and has been anxious the whole day, Matt doing his best to calm her nerves by making her focus on things other than meeting his family.

Matt grabs onto Y/N's hand, intertwining their fingers and gently squeezing.

"They'll love you." Matt assures.

"Hey, there they are." Chris points. "Oh, Justin came." He smiles.

Y/N stands back, watching with a soft smile as the boys reunite with their parents and older brother.

Her smile falters for a moment when the attention is turned to her and Matt quickly wraps his arm around her waist, gently squeezing her hip in reassurance.

"Mom, dad, Justin, this is Y/N." Matt introduces, a grin full of love directed to his girlfriend.

"Hi, sweetheart. It's so nice to meet you." Mary Lou immediately greets her with open arms, pulling the girl into a hug.

"Hi." Y/N softly replies, gently hugging the woman back.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N." Jimmy smiles, giving her a quick hug.

"Hey, nice to meet you." Justin gives her a small wave, Y/N returning it with her own wave.

"Nice to meet you guys, too." Y/N smiles.

"Oh, we've heard so much about you. I can't wait to learn more." Mary Lou smiles. "Come on, let's get you guys something to eat and get home."

"Sweet." Chris excitedly whispers at the idea of eating.

"Y/N, what food do you like? We can go out somewhere." Jimmy offers.

"Oh, uh... I-I'm okay with wherever." Y/N smiles.

"She loves Italian food the most." Nick speaks up.

"Ooh, perfect! There's a really good place we all enjoy, you can try it." Mary Lou grins.

"Can't wait." Y/N nervously smiles, reaching for Matt's hand.

"All right, let's go, boys." Mary Lou urges.

"See? Not so bad." Matt quietly says.

"It's only the first five minutes. I could still totally fuck up." Y/N insists.

"You won't. It'll be amazing, promise." Matt tells her, kissing her cheek.

After lunch, Y/N's anxiety had finally started to dwindle after spending time with the triplets' family and being able to converse with the three just as easily as she can with the boys.

[666writingcafe]

Level Six

Content Warning: sub!/needy!Lucifer antics ensue, possibly OOC?

It all ends in Lucifer's room.

Upon reaching his bedroom door, I notice a note taped to it. Reading it reveals that as soon as I enter the room, I must remain in there for thirty minutes. If I succeed, I'll earn my star.

I stick the note in my pocket, take a deep breath, and open the door. The sight that greets me makes me audibly gasp. Lucifer's wrists and ankles are tied to the bed, leaving him quite vulnerable to anything that wants to have their way with him. That, combined with the fact that he's naked and hard, tells me that this is going to be a long half-hour.

"MC." His voice is higher than usual, making him sound a bit whiny.

"Lucifer?" I walk up to the bed, resting my hand on the nearest post.

"Is this how you want me?"

"I mean, sometimes," I answer honestly. "I just want to be able to take care of you from time to time. You have so much on your plate, and you rarely get to relax."

"I suppose that's true." Lucifer sighs. "I'd be lying if I told you that I've never wanted to do something like this."

"Yeah, with Diavolo."

"With you," he corrects. He's never this candid with me. Not unless he's under the influence of something. Yet, when I question him about it, he tells me that he's completely sober.

I don't know who blushes more: me or Lucifer.

"Frankly, I'm surprised," I respond. "I didn't think you were the submissive type. Not willingly, anyway."

"Only with people I trust completely."

"I'd imagine that's a rather short list." He hums affirmatively.

"You're one of maybe five in my entire existence that I've felt comfortable sharing this with." I feel like my heart just leapt up my throat, making it impossible to speak. How in the world did I manage to do something like that? While I'm proving to be rather powerful, I'm still only a human.

"Quit it," he states.

"Quit what?"

"Thinking that you're unworthy. I don't make these kind of judgements lightly, MC. If I didn't think for a second that you'd be able to handle this appropriately, I wouldn't have agreed to indulge you in this particular way." His red eyes stare deep into mine, making me gulp. It reminds me that I'm dealing with the literal Avatar of Pride and not just some handsome guy off the street.

I have to distract myself. I can't give in now, not when I'm so close to completing this whole test.

I walk away from Lucifer, choosing to sit in his desk chair.

"MC, please." Ignoring him, I pick up one of the books off his desk and begin reading.

"MC!" Oh, he definitely sounds needy. And desperate. I take a deep breath, summoning as much self-control as I possibly can.

"No."

"Ple-ease!" Is he crying? "I wanna be your good boy so bad!" My hand grips harder on the book's spine. If he's acting, then he's nailing it.

"I can't." I hear him whimpering.

"Master, please." Oh shit. He's going there. "Give me an order. I'll do anything you ask me to." Glancing up from my book reveals a wide-eyed, flushed, and panting Lucifer. He looks so pretty right now.

How much time has passed?

"I would under any other circumstances, but not now."

"Whyyyy?!"

"Because I'd fail this part of the test." I try to focus my attention back on the book, but I hear Lucifer struggling against his restraints.

"Behaving like a brat isn't going to get you what you want, Lucifer." I'm surprised the thought escapes my mouth.

"I don't care. I need you, Master. I'll be so good for you."

"You're not being good right now." Would Asmo and Solomon consider this cheating? I hope not. I'm just trying to distract Lucifer--and myself--until the thirty minutes is up.

"If you untie me, I'll give you everything you ever dreamed of."

"Tempting, but no." His subsequent whining slowly turns into white noise, and I'm actually able to focus on the book. Not that I'll remember anything that I'm reading, but as long as I'm able to block out Lucifer, then I should be able to pass.

Suddenly, I hear a timer go off, indicating that the thirty minutes are up. I'm hesitant to move, though. Knowing Solomon, he's hoping to lure me into a false sense of security and then ding me for giving into my desires. Just out of curiosity, I start the stopwatch on my D.D.D. and continue reading.

Sure enough, another half hour has passed by the time Solomon enters the room. Waving his hand, he summons a sheet to cover Lucifer's naked form before walking over to me.

"I must say, I'm impressed, MC," he tells me as I close the book and set it back on Lucifer's desk. "I thought for sure you would have fallen for that." I shake my head.

"I figured it was a trap." Solomon smiles.

"Hold out your hand." Once I do, he causes the star of chastity to appear on the magical crest. He then guides me out of the room and gently shuts the door.

"Who's going to untie Lucifer?" I ask.

"The same person that tied him."

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan

[heavywithourbabies]

8 months with as much bed rest as possible. The sentence went through my head over and over again and I couldn’t help but smile like the cat that caught the canary. I pulled the car into our driveway and stopped the engine. 8 months. As much bed rest as possible. That didn’t mean total bed rest. It didn’t mean you couldn’t do anything physical. Just a limited amount of activities. I got out of the car and stretched and noted how much you wish you could probably do the same. Even the simple pleasure of driving and then freely stretching your limbs and back after. I went around to the back of the car and started to unload the massive amount of groceries that had put a serious dent in my wallet. Not that I cared all that much. Growing a baby took a toll and you needed the calories. Even if your tastes shot around wildly at a moment’s notice. Savory. Sweet. Salty. Healthy. Loaded with fat. I didn’t mind the ridiculous amount or cost. If this was the price to keep you this way I would happily pay a thousand times over. “Daddies home” I thought and laughed to myself. It was almost impossible to dampen my spirits these days. 8 months. And AS much bed rest AS possible. I walked through the front door and cheerily called out “Babe I’m home!” The only answer was a low moan coming from the bedroom upstairs. I sauntered in and started to unload the food. I knew it was a bit cruel but I couldn’t help but ask “Hey are you here?” I was grinning ear to ear waiting for the answer.

“You know EXACTLY where I am.” Came a cranky voice from upstairs.

I finished putting away the food and sighed deeply. I knew from the first date it was supposed to be you. We made each other laugh and connected on so many levels but for me it was your body. It was a shallow thing but it couldn’t be denied. The extreme curves, the thick thighs and dainty ankles, the pillowy soft breasts ready to fill, the ample rear….. and the hips. God, I couldn’t get enough of your beautiful wide hips. So perfect in every way. the first time I saw you naked I could hear your body screaming what it wanted. Take me. Fill me. Make me more womanly. Place your seed in my empty womb and let me do what I was meant to do. ….How could I say no? How could I resist something turning you into the perfect vessel for my children. It was if you had been hand crafted to grow heavy with child and I couldn’t deny it…. I just didn’t know just how well you were designed to grow heavy with my babies.

I felt the usual pangs of guilt and the remorse over the career you had to “place on hold”. You claimed you never wanted this but your whole body certainly took to the process easily enough. And the wedding. What a sordid affair that was. I was over the moon but I could see the threat of tears in your eyes all night in that huge dress you found. Barely able to stand for the length of the ceremony as we rushed through it. I knew you were miserable but this was everything I wanted. You were mine, completely. And the whole world could see just what my seed had done to you. What you were helpless to stop. I pushed the thoughts away as I made my way up the stairs. It wasn’t such a bad deal after all. I had money. You and the baby (and all the ones to come later) would be well taken care of. So what if it wasn’t you calling the shots for your own life anymore? It was your fertile body and I working together. We just needed you to get with the program. Maybe today was the day to finally tell you that going back to work wasn’t going to happen.

I gently opened the door and smiled when our eyes met. “Hey sweetie. You look amazing.” I purred. “No, I don’t.” You sigh as you try to heave your heavy body up. I watch you struggle into a comfortable position and I have to force myself from getting rock hard. Your belly and massive breasts dominating your poor body steals all the focus in the room. “I look like a cow whose belly is an inch in diameter away from making me look like a whale.” You say with a bit of a snarl and I hear the annoyance and fatigue in your voice “ And these tits…. Jesus, look at what you did my tits. They’re so heavy and won’t stop aching. I look like a fucking water balloon.”

It broke my heart that you couldn’t see how beautiful you really were. Somehow I needed to get that through to you. You would be spending most of your time like this anyways so better to learn to love it. “True, you may be as big as a house, possibly a Mcmansion, but you’re my McMansion and I think you are the sexiest thing on the planet.” I saw you glare at me and I gently smiled. Poor thing. She thinks this is temporary. I made my way to the bed and sat down next to you, all smiles like the kid who got exactly what he wanted on Christmas. “Wanna foot rub while you tell me all the reasons why being massively pregnant sucks?”

“I can’t believe you think it’s even cute or nice to call your extremely pregnant and uncomfortable wife something like that.” You snap. “So, you want me to tell you all about why being this pregnant sucks? Even though I’ve been doing nothing but laying here in bed, feeling every little movement and growth, being uncomfortable, with my insatiable appetite, eating non-stop like a pig? Are YOU serious right now?”

I liked it when you were a bit angry but I would have to tread carefully. As much as the hormones running rampant in your body were working well for me they could also kill the mood at a moment’s notice. “ok, poor choice of words. I admit it. I know this sucks. And I know you hate it. But 8 months is a hell of a lot closer to the finish line than 4 or 6.” I gently grab one of your swollen feet and pull it into my lap. Even moving this little makes you groan a little. I set to work massaging it, hoping your body and I can work together to course correct the situation.

“I do hate it. I just want to give birth so this can be over and done with. Then I can go back to work.” You said in a huff.

“You just gotta hold on a little while longer.” I press my thumb deeply into the arch of your foot and try to hit the pressure points. When would I tell you going back to work was a pipe dream? Now? While I made you cum later when you were begging me to make you feel good? There wasn’t a great option for it. You let out a painful groan as our son twists and moves in your achingly full womb. I took one of my hands off your poor foot and place it on your heaving belly. I never really get used to how dense it feels. Your skin is hot to my touch as I try to soothe you and our baby.

You moan a little at the slight bit of relief and say "Why can’t we just schedule the C-section? The faster he’s out of here, the easier it will be for me to get back to work. My friend just texted me about a position that’s going to open up in a few months, because someone just put in their notice, but will stay until they train their replacement.”

I sighed. Better to give up the ghost now I suppose. I leaned in close and kissed your massive swell. “Because you’re not going back to work babe. You’re never going back to that job or any other besides this.” I smiled warmly at you as you looked at me with confusion. Was there panic in that stare? “This is your life now.” I said softly. “I’m sorry but it is what it is. You were meant for this and this is only the start.”

You pull your foot back from my hand, trying to also move away from my other hand and lips which are both on your giant maternal swell. But with my baby weighing you down it’s difficult to move quickly. “I’m sorry that you think that’s how it’s going to be, but once this baby is born, we’re hiring a nanny. I’m going back to work. And I’m getting my tubes tied.” You said point blank trying to take control back in the situation.

“No, you’re not” I say simply enough as I start to kiss your gravid belly. “In fact, as soon as you’re ready I’m going to make sure there’s more of my babies in your womb.” My kisses start to go lower and I can almost feel the heat coming off between your legs. I smile. You say one thing. Your body says another. “That’s why I made sure you got pregnant in the first place. I need you to understand your place in all of this.”

“Excuse me? What do you mean you got me in pregnant in the first place? You did this on purpose?” You ask, raising your voice. “You don’t get a say on whether or not I tie my tubes. The doctor will do whatever I ask them to.”

“Maybe” I say as I start to kiss the underside of your swell. My hands now roaming your perfectly vast belly and wonderful hips. Your struggling making me hard. The weight of my child pinning you down. “Or maybe you’ll finally realize what I know and what your body knows. You were meant for this. Anything else is trivial.” I pull the blankets back to expose you. I know you don’t even bother with pants or underwear anymore unless we have to try and heave you out of bed for an appointment. “You’re meant to be full of babies. ” I smile at you as I part your thicker and softer thighs. I can feel you strain against me but it’s barely a struggle. I look down between your legs at the thicket of hair that has grown wild as you try to buck and heave away from me. “Doesn’t this feel right?” I ask as I lower my head between your legs and start kissing gently up your inner thighs.

“No…” you say, your breathing growing shallower as I kiss your supple skin. “Leave me alone, you know I never wanted this and you forced this baby on me.” I know you’re trying to deny me now but then why are you moaning that way? How can I suddenly smell your want in the room?

“ Forced him on you?” I ask as my kisses inch further up your soft thighs. “I’ll admit to trying to get you pregnant on purpose but I certainly didn’t force your body to take to it so quickly.” I was right near your sex then, I could feel the heat coming off of you in waves. Like the rest of you, it had also swollen over the months and the once cute little pussy had been turned into a heavy mound with thick full lips. I gently licked the space between and despite your protests you whimpered. You desperately tried to grab at my head, my hair, anything to pull me away but you can’t get a good grip with your expanse of a belly in the way. “ It’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you… your wide hips, your large breasts, the fact your body took to my seed so well…..you were meant for this….” Just as you begin more protests and I feel you getting ready to try and kick me away I gently drive in with my tongue. Strands of your juices cling to your hefty lips as I part them. Your body and I are in synch again. “You were meant to be a mother.” I say before I eagerly set to work.

[exaltedfuzz]

Hi! Do you have some personal HCs regarding how Lana dealt with the grief of losing her parents? She'd known them her whole life compared to Ema, and I love to think about (read: make myself sad about) how she managed to balance that and trying to do the best by her only remaining family.

Hello! Honestly, if a question contains “do you have some personal HCs regarding [...] Lana”, the answer is almost definitely yes, and this is no exception! Thanks for the ask. I’ve got a couple scripts in early stages around this very topic, so I don’t want to spoil too many of my thoughts in case I ever want to make a comic about them, or something. (Honestly, I should just write fanfic at this point… I have a rough piece of prose writing in the works that I'll attach part of under the cut... A little teaser.)

Around the time Lana would have had to start taking care of Ema, I think I’ve settled on it being most likely between 16 and 18, since I think if she hadn’t had to stay put for Ema, she’d have moved away to go to uni. So she’d be in a pretty tense time in her life anyway, with exams coming up, and whatever teenage stuff she was dealing with. I imagine that when she got the call saying that her parents were dead, she didn’t have much time to grieve alone before Ema was asking what was wrong, and her focus had to very quickly switch right onto making sure that her sister was ok. In general, I think the thing with Lana is that she’s massively self sacrificial, so her coping mechanism became doing the best possible job she could for Ema, and in that, there wouldn’t be much time for grief between making sure Ema was fed, making sure she was getting good grades so she’d manage to get onto a law course (so she could earn good money to put Ema through college), making sure she could drive, so they could shop and get places…

Here she is...

I think one of the biggest struggles in the early days was learning how to drive. She would have probably been about to start lessons, or just started, (if we assume she was 16 or so) and her parents just died in a car crash. But she’d just have to get on with it, because it was necessary. (She doesn’t have the best record with cars, does she?)

Since Ema says she “used to be so gentle, always smiling”, I think that this was the image of her that Ema experienced most often, so it’s safe to say that she was really patient with her. Ema was probably the only thing that kept her going at a lot of different points in her life.

I expect there would have been some really rough moments though, once Ema was off to sleep and she was alone in a house much too big for a teenage girl and a baby. I like to think that they at least got to inherit a house. (They deserve a little bit of a break, don't they?)

Here's a doodle of her in the first few seconds of having to acknowledge the fact that she's on her own. This is based on a line from the thing under the cut.

And, as promised, here's a little bit of writing. Rough and underdeveloped, I think, but hopefully enjoyable.

The landline didn’t usually go. If it was important, her parents would call her cell. But it did go. Three times, consecutively. She could recall it all. Ema, sitting up at the table with her, eating her pot of yoghurt and drawing in the back of Lana’s notebook. Lana’s textbook laid out in front of her - this was the one thing she didn’t remember. It was physics, that much she knew, but she just couldn’t bring herself to care about whatever was on that page after the rest of what she learned that night. She was smiling, Ema was too. She couldn’t keep her sticky little hands off of Lana’s pens and pencils. It was achingly normal. So familiar. Her parents would have a conference, or a party, or a theatre trip planned, and she was old enough to look after Ema, so she did. She was good with her.

So when they told her to not wait up, to make sure Ema got a little snack if she was hungry, to call them if she needed anything, it was normal. Another night in, another night of making sure Ema didn’t get too curious about what all the fun things under the sink were, another night of studying, another quiet night. She liked them. Sure, it was hard to be saddled with looking after the most curious baby to ever have little hands to grab with, and it was hard to not feel like she was missing out whenever her friends would go out, while she was here, eating carrot sticks and cucumber to try to encourage Ema to follow suit - those days still tasted like hummus in her mind. But it was a labour of love, and Lana was happy to sacrifice her time for her baby sister.

She tried not to be bitter. She didn’t want to be, because Ema was such a joy. But when she’d sit up at the table, nose in her books as always, and she’d hear all the fawning over the youngest Skye, she did feel left out. When Ema was born, Lana stopped getting so many little treats. Her parents used to take her out with them to these excursions. It was a lot of fun to get to talk to the scientists who worked with her mum, she loved seeing the crappy plays that the amateur dramatic society put on, she’d always end up getting sweets and snacks when her dad took her to the shops, and it just kind of stopped when Ema was born. It was a hard time for Lana, but she couldn’t resent Ema. She had a silly smile, and little hands which wanted nothing more than to squeeze Lana’s fingers, and poke around at her face. Holding Ema in her arms while she conducted her first scientific experiments on the elastic potential of Lana’s nose almost made her cry.

She told her parents then that she wasn’t ever going to let anyone hurt Ema, and she’d done her best to make good on that promise until her life was once again torn out from under her feet with the SL-9 incident, and she found herself constantly hurting Ema all on her own in her self absorption. She never forgave herself for that. Ema did, though. She was always so excited to come and see her on the other side of that visitation room, and she still told her everything, like Lana made sure she knew she could. Her eyes looked sad, though. Lana had watched those eyes as they changed from barely betraying any conscious thought, to when they quirked half closed with Ema’s newfound sarcastic smirk. Lana wasn’t quite sure she liked that. Her baby sister was older than she was that night by now, and she definitely didn’t seem like she could handle looking after a kid. What must Lana have looked like?

She knew what she felt like, that’s for sure. Of course, she stood up, with a sigh, on the third repetition of that irritating ringing, and held up the phone to her ear. She was so ready to tell whoever was on the other side that they didn’t need double glazed windows.

“Hello?”

“Is this the Skye residence?”

It was cold. Maybe they did need double glazed windows. Lana hesitated before she responded.

“Ah, yes?”

“Am I speaking to Miss Lana Skye?”

“...Who is this?”

There was too much blood rushing through Lana’s head for her to really hear what the response was.

“Sorry, could you repeat that last bit?”

“There’s been an incident involving a Mr. and Dr. Skye.”

She didn’t care about the rest of whatever he said. Something about investigation being open, something about intensive care, something about an escort car to the hospital being arranged. She could not speak, and her eyes failed. She leant forward, one hand white knuckled around the phone, the other now beginning to bleed with how Lana was chewing at her thumbnail. Ema was still babbling on the other side of the kitchen-diner. She never wished Ema would shut up, but she didn’t want to hear her making these silly noises as if their lives weren’t about to become impossible.

Lana was about to put Ema to bed. It was late. She didn’t remember the time. It was easier that way. She was supposed to be giving a presentation tomorrow at school, and she wanted to be sharp and awake for it. She wasn’t really planning on staying up much longer herself. Certainly not to wait for her parents to get back. She supposed they never would, now. She recognised the way this officer spoke from all the stupid cop shows she watched. She didn’t need it spelled out for her. She mumbled out a thanks, and hung up.

She always hated crying. She couldn’t stand it. The way her breath sounded as it shuddered out of her made her feel weak, and she wasn’t weak. She couldn’t ever afford to be, and that was all she could think of. Lana didn’t notice Ema getting out of the chair and unsteadily walking over to her, and her little grasping hands reaching for the hem of her jumper managed to ground her again. She looked over her shoulder at her sister. Eyes so wide and full of questions, all of which Lana realised, in that moment, she would have to answer. She must have scared her with the way her eyebrows furrowed and the way she grit her teeth, because Ema pulled a little sad face at her.

“Why are you crying?”

Ema wasn’t really that helpful sometimes. Lana swallowed, and looked for an answer. She tilted her head up, closed her eyes, and covered them with her hand, before breathing.

All she could manage to choke out was confirmation: “I’m very upset.”

What a useless statement.

Ema wasn’t ever satisfied with one answer. She just kept asking why. Lana knew that you had to be honest with kids when they had complex questions, so she picked Ema up in her skinny arms and held her while she explained. Usually, she was delighted to explain everything about the world to her sister, but this was hard. Not as hard as seeing Ema’s little pout as she tried to comprehend, though.

As she sat in the escort car on her way to the hospital, as if their presence would miraculously bring their parents to life, she kept holding Ema. She kissed the top of her head and tried not to cry on her soft hair. Her stomach turned as she thought about what the last thing her mum had said to her was. It had escaped her mind until now, and she wished she could let it escape her mind forever.

"No boyfriends over, alright? Be good. Love you. See you in the morning."

She supposed she'd never get to tell them now that there never would be any boyfriends. It was selfish of her to care about something so trivial, so she tried her best to push it to the side. Ema never had to know, either. It wasn't important.

She didn't end up giving her presentation. Or going to school, for the next few days. Ema was at home, so Lana was at home.

[cherryluvss]

Clitwarming >>

Just imagining myself lounging around at home while my s/o is working tirelessly at their desk. They haven't taken a break as they know they have to get this work finished but they're nowhere near done.

So I decide to waltz myself over to their home office and take my usual spot under the desk, but I simply place my chin on the base of the chair between their legs, like a puppy craving attention from it's owner.

"I'm sorry baby but I'm so busy right now, you're gonna have to wait a bit okay?" they coo, cupping my cheek with their hand and showing a sincere smile before putting all their focus back onto the computer screen.

But I want to be the one that helps you out, helps you relieve some stress without having to move from the desk.

"Can we try something? I promise it won't be too distracting, trust me" I whisper faintly, perching up slightly on my knees and trailing my fingertips along their exposed thigh.

It's getting late so all they're wearing is an oversized shirt, luckily that makes it easier for me see what I want.

Before they can even get a word in I place my soft lips around the hood of their neglected clit, my tongue just resting peacefully against the bud of nerves. I won't make any sudden movements though, like I said, I won't be too distracting.

The sweet sound of their breathy gasp as they look back down at me, their thighs closing in on my head to prop it up.

Every now and then I feel them rock against my tongue, their wetness seeping into my mouth with each one whilst I stay put.

That's all I'm here for after all, to keep their clit warm in my mouth whilst they use my tongue whenever they need some added friction.

Also helps keep my oral fixation at bay😉

[crabsnpersimmons]

"Slow down, Sunshine. You're not falling behind and you are loved for more than what you do for others."

[inkerii]

So I couldn't help but browse the THG tag bc those books own my whole heart. I actually check it now and again, and it's been interesting see how opinions have changed over the years, especially in regards to Gale and Peeta. Going through the evolution of them as just potential love interests to being far more complex than I could have expected has been a wild ride. Crazy how this reads different than from when I was a preteen.

That said, I wanted to give my unsolicited two cents on my boys, because though I have been enjoying the discussion on Peeta and Gale and what they mean to the story, I also feel like reducing them to Peeta = peace and Gale = war is far too simplistic... and oftentimes unfair to one or both of them.

See, I don't think Peeta and Gale are peace and war/destruction. They're compassion and indignation.

Peeta worries about the other tributes, or their families, or how to repay people like Rue and Thresh for what they did.

Gale is indignation at how the Capitol treats its citizens, it's anger at the injustice of inequality and brutality.

Both are needed in a story like THG. You can't have people like even Peeta not say something like "maybe we're wrong about keeping things quiet in the districts", you can't have him not drop the baby bomb, you can't start a revolution without Gale's indignation at the status quo. At deserving a better life but being denied it, at having your kids be mercilessly killed for literal sport.

However, if you start a rebellion and loose sight of your compassion, you end up no better than the people you're fighting against. Gale wasn't a bad person, imo. His heart was in the right place. He was flawed, yes, but so is everyone in this series. Gale, most importantly, lost sight of the line between fighting for the people he cared about and fighting against the people who hurt him.

Reducing Gale's indignation to just revenge and hatred ignores so much of what he stands for. Who hasn't seen laws passed that dehumanize people, who hasn't been angry and furious when someone is elected who fundamentally hates everything you are, who doesn't think some people need to pay for the atrocities they committed? There's a little bit of Gale in every single one of us - and it's important that it's there, because that's what gives us strength to challenge the status quo and make life better for the future generations.

But. You can't let it take over. You can't loose sight of your compassion or your empathy.

That's where Peeta comes in. Peeta is the voice in your head that worries about how many good lives will be lost when they give themselves up for this cause. Peeta is the worry about the people caught in the crossfire. Peeta is rebuilding when it's over and believing that the next generation will have a better life than your own. Peeta is being kind, even to people who may not deserve it.

And Gale... Gale looses sight of his compassion, and he doesn't realize it until it smacks him in the face when the bombs go off and Prim is gone and he's too far gone. Meanwhile, Peeta advocates for the end of the war even though it means the status quo remains - and regardless of what he believes himself, I don't think Suzanne chose him to say those lines by chance. It means both mindsets have their flaws: too kind and things that shouldn't remain will never be challenged and changed, too angry and you may loose sight of what you're fighting for.

And that's just how Suzanne uses her characters, both of them, all of them. Just look at who is with Katniss depending on the situation:

- Katniss chooses to "rebel" after Gale is brutally whipped. She kisses him.

- Katniss realizes that in order for D12 to rebel, everyone would need to be in on it, and she realizes most of them are not like her, that they're scared and she understands, emphasises with them. Peeta walks by her side.

- Katniss finally does it though, shoots the arrow at the force field, and Peeta is taken from her, it's now Gale by her side.

(You can't start a rebellion without indignation, and sometimes you HAVE to do it or things will never change, regardless of the inevitable pain that will come along.)

- Katniss is righteously angry at the Capitol bombing a hospital full of innocents to make a point. Gale remains there.

- Coin twists people's compassion into an army to fight for her own personal gain. Peeta is hijacked and looses his sense of self.

- Katniss and Gale go to District 2 and even though she tries to be like Peeta, she's still shot- reinforcing Gale's views, the person who was with her during that sequence.

- Katniss is angry at Snow, Katniss goes to the Capitol to kill him. Gale is there.

- Katniss gets in way over her head and realizes she is responsible for the death of most of her squad. She shares the lamb stew with Peeta, and later cleans his wounds.

- Finnick dies and she's at her lowest up until that point and all she wants to do is give up and give in to the anger. She kisses Peeta and begs him to stay with her.

... Claiming that Gale is destruction ignores the fact that he's with Katniss through her own moments of strength. Her desire to change things, to fight back, is as important as her compassion. Mockingjay just brutally shows you what war does to your indignation, to your compassion. How easy it is to cross a line between righteous anger and revenge, or how your sense of empathy and compassion can be manipulated into something monstrous by others, or by all the terrible, brutal, painful things you see.

How easy it is to loose yourself- and that goes for both of them.

Peeta and Gale aren't static characters, they go from representations of sentiments regarding an injust government to what happens to those feelings when an extreme situation such as war breaks out. All of that, by the way, while dealing with this duality themselves, because they are still characters who think and feel and struggle and have flaws of their own- and while I love what they stand for, I've seen too many comments that pin everything into what they mean, that they forget that Peeta and Gale are still people, they aren't perfect metaphors. They're human.

Ultimately, Katniss doesn't really choose peace. She wants peace, yes. But what she chooses is compassion. empathy. hope. There's a time and place for anger at injustice. There's a time when fighting back is the right thing to do. There are even times when you wanna give in to your despair and lash out. But if you want peace, then you have to choose Peeta, because Peeta represents what you need to focus on to achieve that peace. You have to let go of the anger or you won't ever rest. So Gale leaves, and does not come back... And yet, Katniss still has her moments of indignation, of making a stand, even as he goes - she still casts her vote at that meeting, she still shoots Coin. Katniss does not abandon that part of who she is. It's just not her main drive anymore.

So then she goes on to make the choice, every single day, to be compassionate to others. To have hope. To rebuild. Of course she chooses Peeta.

... Idk, man. These boys are so much more than what I see them so often reduced to. They're in all of us. There will be times to stand and fight, and times to show mercy and be kind. We just need to find that balance, as Katniss eventually did.

[skunkes]

i have soooo much more i cld say abt him, and have explored more thru other doodles, but quick summary of talon's whole deal, which is subject to change still as he's only almost 2 yrs old as an oc

[enden-k]

hi, not that i take "requests" anyway (i explained i sometimes doodle it when smth inspires me to) but heads up that i wont draw any more on sfw here for the time/dont expect me to draw all things you throw at my head. im currently working a lot more than usual bc im assigned mentor + ill prob be busy with zine work in free time so when i do draw smth else, its prob just whatever i feel like or for other blog so i wont get too distracted w too many other things and mess up my schedule

so, pls dont clog my inbox with "can you draw--" anymore

[icewindandboringhorror]

boy in silly sitting positions compilation

[cathalbravecog]

Mity I doodled (mostly from memory) earlier instead of studying for finals

[wandixx]

I made a prompt some time ago and my brain couldn't let it go so I want to write an actual fic about it. But I need your help to do it.

You can find the prompt I'm talking about here. To summarize it quickly because I know it ended up kind of long. Dani was traveling around the USA and met/befriended some people, heroes and villains include. And then she left to see another place. It wouldn't be a problem if before she left, she said goodbye. She didn't so now they she got kidnapped and are panicing.

I have some ideas, some serious chaos I mentioned (about 2500 words and counting) or super serious chaos if things'll go properly, who knows, some Dani hangs out with Duke during his patrols and is low key his sidekick (5500 words and counting, everything on paper because why not?), both in much different places on a timeline, untouched but thought about idea for Dani and Conner clone budding AND one bit for when she met Flashfam and one when she asked Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy for autographs for Jazz and Sam.

But here is a thing. All I know about DC is from dpxdc tag and some fics on AO3. Also from dpxdc of course. So it means I don't know a jack shit about people outside of Batfam.

So, what I'm asking for is, if you have ideas who else Dani could mess with or/and links to fanfics with your favorite characterizations or character analysis here or on AO3, any way of communication you are comfortable with is open, please send it (maybe not in actual mail that would be both creepy and unreasonably expensive)

I can't exactly watch movies/cartoons because I fear my computer wouldn't survive that (I had a moment of black screen two times in the last twenty minutes and three more temporary freezes, how is this thing still running, and how it became my most reliable internet connection device?)

Anyway, send the links I beg you

[stormlight-archive]

Im never free

[midnightrings]

Siena and her opera performances - a short character study

So, I thought I might share a short little analysis of the operas Siena performed, as I’ve not seen anything like this on here before and I’ve spent some time digging into those operas for my fanfics.

I want to post a whole character analysis of Siena at some point, but the operas play an important part in highlighting Siena’s character and her relationship with Anthony, so I thought it might be interesting to dig a bit deeper into those performances. Especially when it comes to a character like her (who barely got any screentime), those few seconds of her performing make a nice addition and add some depth to her character and storyline.

I won't focus much on the opera Siena performs in episode 1 – Gluck’s Iphigénie en Tauride – as it's not as interesting as the other two, because there doesn’t seem to be much of a connection to Siena’s character or her relationship with Anthony per se. Unlike the other operas, the focus in this scene is clearly not on her – she’s mostly just in the background, with two very short closeups, so we see that it’s her that is performing on stage. There is a deleted scene between her and Anthony according to the published script of that episode:

However, while I think that deleted scenes and such can make for interesting footnotes during an analysis/interpretation, I don’t like taking them too much into consideration – after all, there might be a good reason why this was deleted.

So the actual scene we see doesn’t really highlight anything in regards to Siena’s characters besides the fact that she’s an opera singer and that this is one of the only times we see her wear some brighter colors – while she’s on stage, playing a character. The other two operas she performs in episode 3 and 4 are much more focused on her character and storyline, especially her performance of I Capuleti e i Montecchi in 1.03 – this is the only time we see her perform without any of the other cast members present.

However, that’s not the only difference between Iphigénie en Tauride and the other operas. I Capuleti e i Montecchi and Les contes d'Hoffmann are also anachronistic. Iphigénie en Tauride premiered 1779, while I Capuleti e i Montecchi premiered in 1830 and Les contes d'Hoffmann in 1881.

People tend to make fun of historical inaccuracies or dismiss them as mistakes, but most times, anachronism is on purpose. I think it’s safe to assume that everyone working on this has been aware that those operas would not premiere until decades after season 1. The operas were clearly chosen for a reason.

Les contes d'Hoffmann by Jacques Offenbach (1881)

Les contes d’Hoffmann (The Tales of Hoffmann) tells the story of Hoffmann, who choses to give up on love and devotes his life to art and poetry instead. It's based on three short stories by E. T. A. Hoffmann, and some are probably familiar with the movie, but just to roughly summarize (also because there’s some important differences): At the beginning of the story, a prima donna named Stella invites Hoffmann to a meeting in her dressing room after her performance. Before the meeting, Hoffmann recounts his past great loves to his students. The opera consists of three acts, each telling the story of one of Hoffmann’s previous loves. After recollecting his stories of heartbreak, The Muse can convince Hoffmann to give his love to her (poetry) instead of visiting Stella.

There are many parallels to Siena and her relationship with Anthony here. The most obvious one is the prima donna part – Stella represents Siena. While there might not be direct similarities within the story or between Anthony and Hoffmann, the ending to Hoffmann’s story is still in some parts similar to Anthony’s. The opera ends with Hoffmann declaring that he doesn’t want to love anymore – which sounds quite similar to what Anthony says at the end of season 1.

Siena is obviously not performing the entire opera – we only see her sing “Belle nuit, ô nuit d'amour” as the courtesan Giulietta – who tries to fool Hoffmann into falling in love with her.

Storytelling-wise, it obviously does not fit Siena’s story at this point – she is not trying to fool Anthony into falling in love with her, quite the opposite. Though it does work well as a juxtaposition, especially when we see Siena noticing Anthony’s stares and she slips out of her role. There’s a clear contrast here between her performing as a devious courtesan and looking almost flustered as a result of Anthony’s gaze.

And although Siena at that point doesn’t want to seduce Anthony in any way, the piece still beautifully represents the actual scene that takes places here: Anthony longingly staring at her the very moment he recognizes her voice – almost as if under a spell (a very horny spell). Even when Violet tries to distract him, he cannot help but look in Siena’s direction. He’s completely enthralled by her here – similarly to how Hoffmann was enthralled by Giulietta. And similarly, both relationships are doomed to end unhappily.

Adding onto that, this is also the only time that we see Siena on stage where she represents exactly who she is: a courtesan. During the other two performances, she’s wearing bright, pastel gowns – very different from her usual style. The costume she wears here is also different from her usual style, which is fairly plain otherwise – but it does highlight the role she plays within society.

I find it quite interesting that this is the only time we see Anthony and Siena interact with one another during one of her performances – and one of the only times we see them interact in public altogether. This scene clearly shows the class difference between them: Anthony attending a ball as the lord he is, while Siena performs for everyone else’s entertainment, playing a seductive courtesan. They are present at the same place, yet they can’t talk to one another – there is an invisible wall between them which is highlighted by the positions they take within that scene as well as the clothes they wear. Had Siena performed any other part of that opera, she would probably have worn a pretty gown and those differences would not nearly be as noticeable. But she’s performing as a courtesan and as a result, this might be the most visible representation of her and Anthony’s differences and main conflict.

Returning to the actual story of the opera: At the end, Hoffmann explains how his three previous loves – Olympia, Antonia and Giulietta – all represent Stella. They show different aspects of the prima donna: the musician, the young girl and the courtesan. As I said, Stella represents Siena, and so do all of the other characters. In this scene, we see her visually represented as the courtesan. The show highlights this several times, especially during episode 3 when she talks to Genevieve and then later visits the gentlemen’s club and is inviting Simon to join her the next evening. Her need to find a keeper that can protect her and provide for her plays an essential role within her storyline.

Then, she’s obviously also a musician – a good amount of her scenes consist of her performances, and her character is defined by those performances. And, in the end, she’s also a young girl – and the show ensures to highlight that part as well. Through showcasing her vulnerability and emotions, we can see that she is not that different from the other young women in the show, like Daphne and Marina. They are all young, dealing with heartbreak and making decisions to secure their future. And this is in my opinion what sets Bridgerton apart from other stories of its genre. Usually, a character like Siena would only be the musician and courtesan – either sidelined or vilified. The show humanizes her, however, by granting her screentime to show her pain and struggles and even, to some extent, her innocence – which is especially well done during her performance in 1.03.

I Capuleti e i Montecchi by Vincenzo Bellini (1830)

As you can probably guess by the title, I Capuleti e i Montecchi tells the story of Romeo and Juliet. I don’t think there’s a need to summarize the story, and I also think it’s pretty clear why this particular opera was chosen: Romeo and Juliet originated the star-crossed lovers trope – which is the exact trope Siena and Anthony would fall under.

There are many things I love about that scene – it’s just all around a brilliant scene, not just in relation to Siena’s character. Though I will obviously only focus on how it relates to her character here.

The aria Siena performs is “Oh! quante volte” – Juliet waiting for Romeo, begging for him to come for her. It’s quite emotional and allows for Siena’s character to express her own emotions throughout her performance.

First, I adore how beautifully this ties in with the next scene. For one, because it sets up the atmosphere and essence of Siena and Anthony’s relationship – the tragedy of it all. The scene with Anthony in Siena’s dressing room underlines how this is not meant to be a love story with a happy ending, and the performance right before that amplifies this. Their story is doomed to end unhappily. And, similar to Romeo and Juliet, it is not merely a tragic story about love – it’s a story about the dangers of defying societal norms and duties and your own identities within that society.

But the dressing room scene also shows the clear differences between both stories. When Anthony visits her, Siena choses to reject him. She might have been emotional during her performance, but when Anthony showed his face, Siena did not act based on emotions but was very much rational in her words and actions. Because Anthony is not Romeo, and Siena is also not Juliet.

I also love how this performance builds a beautiful contrast to Les contes d'Hoffmann. Instead of a courtesan, Siena is playing an ingenue, wearing a pretty gown and looking all around sweet and innocent.

As the opera is in Italian, Juliet is obviously called Giulietta – just like the courtesan from Les contes d'Hoffmann. I have no idea whether this has been an accident or was done on purpose, but it’s a wonderful parallel. In both operas, she’s playing two very different women who happen to share the same name.

It underlines the differences between both roles but also draws a connection – which is Siena’s character.

By society, Siena is seen as the Giulietta from Les contes d'Hoffmann: the courtesan whose intentions are dubious and malicious. When Siena performs as I Capuleti e i Montecchi’s Giulietta, we can see a more vulnerable side of her as she openly cries on stage. We see her heartbroken and emotional, letting her guard down completely for a moment. In the end, it’s merely a performance. But Siena uses this performance to allow herself vulnerability – a vulnerability she is not usually allowed.

Those different performances do an excellent job at showcasing Siena’s character and also her main conflict and the different roles she plays. The chosen operas add some wonderful depth and insight into her character and I absolutely love how the shows has implemented them.

[clits-and-clips]

Since writing the affirmations and starting manifestation again, I've actually been in a much better headspace. It's crazy how things align, and you end up where you need to be, especially through pain