This is a PSA to any of my fellow chubby sweethearts out there:
Simon fucking loves every inch of your curves, is so obsessed with your body he hardly knows what to do with himself. He knows you're nothing short of a ethereal, and would happily spend the rest of his life worshipping you, and fuck, if he isn't going to give it his best fucking shot.
He loves the way his clothes envelop you, the hem of his shirt hitting your mid thigh, coaxing his hands to grab the plush of your legs between his fingers, warm and so, so soft. He loves the feeling of you sat on his lap, although it had taken you some coaxing at first, unsure and wary eyes avoiding his gaze as you mumble something about "hurting him", and Simon can't recall the last time he heard something so ridiculous, so he lifts you up, and deposits you straight onto his lap, a bemused smile forming at your adorably shocked expression. It's become both of your favourite forms of skinship ever since.
And he fucking adores your stomach. He doesn't give a single fuck about your opinions on it, he loves it because it's attached to you, because it's a part of a silhouette that has him on his knees and begging just for a second of your attention. He goes near feral at the sight of tummy spilling over the waistband of your panties, and you damn right near kill him every time you turn around and he's met with the sight of your ass peeking out from under alluring lace.
But more than anything else, Simon loves how he can make you feel safe with just his size alone. Over the past year, that arbitrary concern about crushing him or being too shy to wear crop tops has all but vanished, you know that he was made just for you, that he will always love you, absolutely unconditionally. And Simon will always be there to catch you when those pesky insecurities catch up to you once again, with tender kisses to your tummy, worship whispered into your skin so delicately, as though he hopes the words will seep through your pores.
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you know what, as Angels self-proclaimed cool aunt, i am going to do a very controversial thing and say hurt. her. i want to see Keegan destroyed and sobbing. i want keegan not being able to look at their kids for more than a few seconds because they look like her. i want him finding drawings that the little monster made of their family and just breaking down again. give. me. the. angst. (pretty please)
Well. I've been wanting to write this for a while, but I'll keep it short.
tw miscarriage
You think you're a good pregnant person. It was rough the first go round, mostly because you were doing it on your own, but now you have Keegan around. He's around all the time, you can't turn a corner without him being there. You can't lift anything or grab for things off shelves, you can't go to the store alone, and Keegan follows you to work with the little monster in tow. It's actually sort of sweet saying goodbye to your little family outside your office every morning. You kiss both of them and wave goodbye, knowing they'll be there to pick you up when you get off.
It's a neat little routine you fall into. You feel good, healthy and happy. Keegan's started getting up early, getting Ainsley ready for the day and making breakfast. He kisses your cheek every chance he gets, settles his hand against your stomach, pulls you into his lap to feed you, he's more affectionate, more attentive than he's ever been. You'd be a fool not to give into his care. You know what it's like to be on your own, so this time you're taking full advantage of him.
Your toddler climbs into bed between you and Keegan for stories before bed, and cuddles close against your side. When their eyes are heavy and Keegan finally scoops them up into his arms to cart off to bed they reach for you, wrap their arms around your neck and whisper a good night to you. Your heart swells with happiness as you kiss their cheek. Your baby. You're holding off on telling them the good news until you can show them a proper ultrasound. It'll make them happy seeing a picture.
You really shouldn't be so happy, you're only a few weeks in, not even showing yet. It's Keegan, you think, his excitement is infectious and you've never seen him so happy. It takes everything in you not to smile every time he looks at you, every time he touches you. It takes everything not to giggle and grab for him every time you remember that you're having a baby with the man you love.
Keegan wakes you up at the first scent of blood. Spotting, then a brilliant horrible red. Your stomach drops, then the cramps hit and you don't have time to mourn because it hurts. It hurts and there's no amount of tears you can cry into Keegan's shoulder that make it stop hurting. Keegan's lips press against your temple, his arms tight around you as he calls 999. You hold on just as tightly, your body shaking with an emotion you can't put name to.
It wasn't far along, you try to tell yourself, I didn't even know them.
It doesn't help.
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guardian angel neil pls bc I love him so much
WIP Wednesday (9/13) | Guardian Angel Neil AU
“Yeah, of course I was. I’m wherever you are.” Neil says, like it’s obvious. Andrew does recall the word ‘stalker’ popping up between them before. And if his job is to keep Andrew safe, it would only make sense for him to be there. But…
“I never see you there anywhere but here,” Andrew comments. And Neil has the audacity to look bashful.
“I sort of go invisible when we’re not up here,” Neil tells him.
“Oh. Of course,” Andrew says with a sigh. That makes so much sense. His figment is shy.
“I’m not supposed to let anyone else see me. You weren’t supposed to see me,” Neil says, picking at his cuticles, “but I fucked up that night.”
“Uh huh.”
“I’m glad you saw me though.” Neil smiles and gestures between them. “I like this.”
“There is no this.” Andrew hisses, trying to convince himself more than anything. His first friend since fucking first grade isn’t real. There is no this. There is no one, especially not a gorgeous boy in dirty shoes, sitting beside him. Not really.
“I just meant I like talking to you.” Neil says, looking a bit hurt. “It was so boring for those first few weeks.”
Andrew is quiet for a moment too long. Neil starts to stand up. “See you later.”
“Wait.” Andrew says. But Neil is already gone. Andrew wonders where he goes when he’s not here on the roof. Back into Andrew’s head, he supposes. Andrew sighs and lays back against the concrete for a bit before going inside.
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Star Dust, Angel Dust
Anthony Donatiello was going to be a star.
The dark cinema was buzzing. The joint was full of his family and friends- the place rented out just for them. Not that he thought his uncle’s meathead friends or his cousins cared much for motion pictures, unless they were the kiddie vaudeville types. They just didn’t have the taste Anthony did. Molly liked movies all right, but mostly because she knew Anthony did. She did anything he wanted, went where he went, liked what he liked; even if she didn’t, really.
He sat back in the big seat- his feet just reaching the floor. His frame was slight even at eleven, when most of the other kids his age were sprouting up and out. He was hardly any bigger than Molly was, the two of them identical pointy limbs and round, pinched-cheek faces. Though Ma said he’d hit his growth spurt any day now and be taller than all of them, and be on his way to becomin’ a big man like his papa.
Anthony wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. He loved his papa, sure. But when he dreamt of who he would be as an adult, it wasn’t his father’s stubbly jaw line and gruff voice he imagined.
It was Roman Novaro, with his slender frame and shiny hair. It was Colleen Moore and her wire-thin dainty eyebrows and shiny bead-embroidered dresses.
It was Clara Bow.
On the silver screen, Clara Bow’s big round eyes were pinched in anger as she was waving her cutesy little gun around (He didn’t know what she thought that little thing would do- he’d seen bigger guns in his pop’s bathroom), looking for all the world like she was about to jump out of the ten foot tall screen and into the room.
Clara was the ultimate star- she had the face, the legs, the smile. She was everything. People called her the “it” girl- on the cover of every magazine, in every department store window on posters for perfume and powder- and always, always with all eyes on her.
She was an angel.
Anthony had fallen in love with her the first time he’d seen her on screen with her thin painted lips and the way they quirked up in an impish smile. He’d made his mama take him to the cinema to see the movie three times. He practiced that smile in the bathroom mirror every morning for a week.
Ladies of the Mob had been a funny choice for a family outing, looking back. Not that he’d really known then that the family business was anything more than some vague investment company or something else equally as vague and boring as shit to an eleven year old. He just thought that maybe all investment companies came with family bodyguards who were also his cousins- and also cousins that weren’t really cousins but they called them that anyway. And didn’t every family have weapon stashes in every room of the house? His pops always said protecting his family came first!
Next to him in the dark, Molly elbowed him gently and held out the little bag of popcorn for him to take a handful. Her big blue eyes were still locked on the screen as Clara’s lover, the poor crook who Clara was trying so hard to make a better man, grabbed her by the arms and shook her passionately. Anthony felt the tension rise as their faces got closer together and her lover shook her again, the piano music swelling. The gun fell from Clara’s hand as she stared up at her fella’s furious face.
“Don’t you know I love ya, ya dumb broad?” The title card read.
Clara shook her head, moving her perfectly painted lips. Anthony mirrored her expression, copying the way she turned down the corners of her mouth.
“Well, you have a mighty good way of showing it.”
He yanked her forward with force until they were just an inch away, his mouth mumbling words that made Anthony’s tummy flip and his eyebrows go up in surprise just the same as Clara’s on screen.
“I’ll show you good.”
He crashed his mouth to Clara’s- Anthony didn’t have to look at his sister to know Molly had clapped one hand over her eyes. She still thought kissing was gross, the little baby. But he didn’t ever want to look away. In the darkness with stars in his little eyes, Anthony puckered his lips, instinctively copying Clara.
Someone was gonna kiss him like that someday.
*
“You're gonna be a star, Angel baby.”
That's what Val had told him when they first met in the corner of a hazy strip club. The moth demon had paid for private dances at the club, rented out rooms for days just to monopolize Angel's time and attention. And Angel took the compliment and the cash, batted his lashes and let Val flash even more bills than the day before or the day before. He was buying bottle after bottle without care. Hell, he was practically pouring the shit out on the floor. What did Val care? He could buy the whole bottling plant if he wanted. He had money, he had power, he had people falling at his feet.
So who could blame Angel if he fell, too?
Well. He sure as fuck could blame himself. He'd been stupid. Naive.
Val had been good to him, at the start. For a long while, Angel was a free man who went where he wanted and did what and who he wanted. And who he wanted was Val. He ate up the gifts; the clothes, the free meals, the sex- he was peppered with kisses and pet names and promises and in return when Val was mean, Angel told himself that was the shit he was into anyway. Even if he wasn't really into how Val did it.
And he wasn't mean outside of bed, anyway- Angel would never let that happen to him. He watched, tucked under Val's wing as he was cruel and ruthless to waitstaff, employees, dancers, bartenders. Didn't matter. That would never be him. He was Angel Baby, his star, Amorcito. He was special.
Stupid. Naive. And humble, as ever.
Anthony never got to be a star. But Angel was. His face was everywhere. His legs and ass were in even more places.
Just like Clara, he thought to himself with satisfaction when he looked in the mirror before a shoot, giving himself bedroom eyes and admiring himself.
Just like Clara? He thought to himself with a bitter pit in his stomach when he looked in a mirror after Val manhandled him. kissed him so hard it hurt. Talked over him. Didn't listen when he asked for a pause, a moment to catch his breath.
Breaks were not in the budget, on or off set.
Angel Dust was a star. But Anthony was curled up in bed, the only one who ever loved him right snuffling at his tear stained cheeks. He drew Fat Nuggets in tighter to his chest, letting him nuzzle his neck and snort sweetly.
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I was looking at Luke who is supposedly 5'2 and a lot of people HC Lucifer being 6'2.
Im an anime fan,and i was watching AOT with Levi being 5'2 and Erwin being 6'2, Levi comes up to Erwin's chest
There are cards where Luke is standing next to the demon brothers, and he just reaches below Lucifer rib, so this not canon and im only basing this off on that one card I saw
But Luke must be taller than 5'2
They are all Titans
Well, anon, I'm afraid I don't have any information about Luke's height... did they say he was 5'2" at some point?? I tried to find something about it, but all I could find was fan speculation.
But if we look at the official height comparison chart, it doesn't list numbers for their heights, but it does show us how tall they all are compared to each other.
Here's the one for the dateables plus Lucifer. Luke's hat is obviously giving him a little extra height here. I would say that line just below the top of the hat is where his head is at. And that line goes a little bit above the middle of Lucifer's chest.
My own dear sweet mother is 5'2" and I would say the top of her head reaches to about my shoulder. But I'm only 5'7". So if Lucifer is 6'2" here, which we don't actually know for sure, then I would say Luke is probably taller than 5'2".
Buuuut this is all speculation on my part lol. I have no idea what their heights are and to be honest with you, I am not very good at guesstimating this kind of thing, either.
All I know is that I imagine most of them are pretty dang tall, but I still imagine Luke as child sized. So I tend to think of him as even shorter lol.
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