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drakkensystem · 2 years

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My Personal Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Headcanons

Section 1: They're all queer as fuck

Part 1: All of the turtles are trans/genderqueer in some fashion

Real life facts: For most turtle species- including alligator snapping turtles, box turtles, and red-eared sliders but NOT including softshells (we'll get around to ol' Donnie boy in a minute) you can determine the sex of an individual by looking at the shape of their plastron (aka chest/stomach).

Males always have concave (inward curving) plastrons

Females' plastrons are convex (outward curving), flat, or bumpy. For most species the shape varies from individual to individual, but female plastrons are never concave.

Tldr: concave (inward curving) plastrons = biologically male; any other plastron shape = biologically female

Now, let's look at our 3 (non-softshell) boys' plastrons

First, Raph

Raph's plastron is flat with a bump on top (aka, not concave). Therefore he is AFAB (or should I say AFAH- assigned female at hatching?).

Now I headcanon that he is a binary trans man. When Raph was very young, Splinter realized that Raph didn't like something about his deadname so he asked him about it and eventually got the turtle tot to admit that it felt wrong for him, that it felt more like a girl's name. To which Splinter said, "Are you not a girl?"/genuine and Raph said no, he feels more like a boy. So Splinter was like, "ah, my mistake. I guess you need a boy name then- how about Raphael?" (this would match the Renaissance name he gave his other son) The little turtle thought very hard for a moment. It felt right. "Raph likes that name". Splinter chuckles "Raphael it is"

Then when Donnie and/or Leo had trouble remembering to not use his deadname (Mikey was just learning to talk at the time, so she only ever remembers Raph's name being Raph), Raph would subtly remind them by referring to himself in the 3rd person, and after a while the habit stuck.

Speaking of his brothers:

Mikey, the youngest but the second one to change names and come out.

Here is Mikey's plastron

Flat = Not concave = Mikey is also AFAH.

I said "come out" but Mikey has always known that he was neither a girl or a boy, but rather- both? Or neither? Honestly she doesn't bother to try to figure it out and usually just identifies as "queer as ginger beer, baby!". If pressed for more details about his gender she shrugs and says "genderfluid". Mikey uses mirror pronouns.

When Leo began teasing Mikey about how girly her deadname was (Leo dealing with his own gender dysphoria in an unhealthy way, as per typical of the slider) Mikey decided to change his name for 2 reasons 1)on some unconscious level she understood why Leo was teasing her about the name and he thought if he had a different one it would make Leo less uncomfortable and 2)she was in the middle of a hyperfixation on (the Renaissance artist) Michaelangelo's art and the idea of being named after one of the best artists of all time made him do a happy-stim dance. Incidentally, Mikey is the only one who doesn't care whether anyone knows his deadname (it's Kitsu- a Japanese name meaning "tangerine/orange" because "you bring the sweetness and brightness of this sunny fruit into our lives every day")

Splinter found out that Mikey wanted to change her name and, not having any kind of concept of genders beyond male and female, (and thinking back to his experience with his eldest) came to the conclusion that Mikey was a boy. Mikey tried to explain it to him once, but when Splinter's eyes glazed over Mikey decided she didn't care if his Dad thought of her as a weird kind of boy.

He once had a phase where she decided he wanted to come up with his own neopronouns and landed on "orangeh/orangir/orangehs" (pronounced identically to the english words "orange", "oranger" and "oranges"). Honestly Mikey only kept it up for as long as orangeh did to see the twitch on Donnie's face every time Splinter forced the softshell to use the correct pronouns for his little brother ("But those are ALREADY REAL WORDS with a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT MEANING!" "Nuh-uh, I made new ones! :P" "They are pronounced EXACTLY THE SAME!" "Purple, respect your brother's gender identity and call him what he- I mean Orange- wants to be called or I'm taking away your soldering iron for a week!" "GAAURAGH! FiiINE! I will use orangehs DUM-DUM little words to refer to orangir even though orangeh is only doing it to annoy me >:( !!" *Mikey grins smugly*)

Incidentally, this was when Splinter started referring to them by their colors because his neurodivergent ass had trouble remembering to not use his sons' deadnames and if the pronouns were going to change too? That was more than he could handle. But Splinter was dead-set (get it ;) on respecting their gender identities so colors it is (thank God he had already color-coordinated them)

Ah, Leo. Leo Leo Leo

As we can see here, Leo's plastron is not concave, ergo he is also AFAH (also biologically male red-eared sliders' markings often fade as they reach adulthood and their skin produces more melanin, while biologically female sliders retain the same bright coloring they had as hatchlings. But since some male sliders don't get darker skin, we're not going to count this as proof of his gender assigned at hatching. Evidence? yes. But proof? No)

When Raphael came out to their dad, Leo became extremely jealous of his older brother because of Raph's name change because of the extra attention Raph got from their Dad. And, ironically, this only made the red-eared slider firmer in his insistence that he wasn't an "icky boy :P"- he was NOT (!) going to copy his older brother even though he kinda wanted to.

So Leo dealt with his gender dysphoria in other ways -

becoming ultra-competitive ("just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I can't cream you, DonTon!" "Bring it on then, twin sister" *Leo just gives a wordless scream of rage*)

teasing every single one of his siblings about gender stuff every chance he can (except Raph- the first time Leo implied that Raph wasn't a "real boy" Raph ran off crying and Leo was grounded for a month- with no pizza)

developing that characteristic, deflectingly cocky personality

when things were really bad he became aggressively angry (when this happened he usually got it out by sparring with Raph or Donnie no, not because Leo's jealous, why would he be jealous

When Mikey changed his name, at first Leo became insanely jealous found Mikey to be even more annoying than usual until one day Dr Feelings, in her first ever appearance (*internally* "I only changed my name in the first place to try to make Leo feel better, but now Leo's feeling even more upset! Wait, that's it- feelings. I'll be Dr Feelings") , told Leo that if he was so jealous of Mikey and Raph changing their names, why didn't he just change his?

An argument ensued with Dr Feelings trying to get Leo to tell him what's wrong until finally Leo blurts out:

"Because! It's not like it would stop everyone from calling me a girl anyway!"

"...But if you asked us to we would"

*one existential crisis later*

"Raph, Donnie, Mikey: I have an important announcement to make... I'm not a girl, I'm a boy and my name isn't [deadname] it's Leonardo"

"Did you pick that because you wanted to match how the rest of us are named after famous artists?"

"Or because Michelangelo's greatest rival was Leonardo Da Vinci? :D"

*His twin knew it was because he was going through a Leonardo DiCaprio fixation but other than giving his brother in blue a smirk, Donnie kept his mouth shut*

*sweating* "...Yes, of course that's why"

Raph took it upon himself to make sure that Splinter knew to respect Leo's new name and pronouns and the family has never looked back.

Now, let's swing back around to the autistic softshell.

Now, softshell plastrons are not sexually dimorphic in shape (tangent - is it actually sexual dimorphism when it is actually directly related to mating?) Anyway, our best metric here is shell pattern.

The pattern on a biologically female spiny softshell's carapace (back shell) will change as she reaches sexual maturity. Male spiny softshells retain their hatchling pattern their whole lives.

So, let's look at DonDon's shell pattern as a hatchling and as a teenager.

Donnie's shell still has the same basic pattern it did when he was a baby, so he must have been amah. But don't let those he/him pronouns fool you: Donnie is non-binary.

When his older brother Raph admitted to their dad that he felt more like a boy than a girl and then Splinter gave Raphael a new name, it set gears turning in little Donnie's head.

Donnie asked Raph about his feelings regarding gender and then had a conversation with Splinter- ostensibly to explain why he should call Raph "Raph" and how someone who (from Donnie's perspective) used to be a girl was now a boy. In actuality of course, our little scientist was gathering data about gender and how gender works.

His conclusion? More data is necessary.

So he watches his other siblings. He sees how Leo seems obsessed with gender and is also just, kinda angry, like all the time. He notices how Papá begins to use he/him pronouns for Mikey.

Then when he sees Leo's impassioned coming out speech, he finally arrives at a few conclusions:

1)Your gender is not necessarily tied to your physical sex (and the people who think otherwise are dum-dums whom he will keep away from his siblings at all costs)

2)Some people have very strong feelings about gender.

3)These people's strong feelings about gender are what determines whether they are a boy or a girl

4)Therefore, since he doesn't have strong feelings of being a boy or a girl, he must be neither.

5) Since he's not a girl he sees no point in changing his name and/or pronouns - honestly it would just confuse Papá and besides, with things as they are, he and his brothers' names are all matching.

When Donnie gets exposure to the queer community on the internet he finds out about nonbinary genders ("ah, an explanation for Mikey's confusing babbling about gender") and then xenogenders and suddenly everything clicks into place.

Donnie begins to quietly collect gender labels into a super-encrypted, password protected for-Donnie's-eyes-only document: slowly at first (if he isn't 100% sure that it vibes, he doesn't add it to the document). But then eventually Mikey's carefree attitude about gender rubs off enough that he begins adding anything that vaguely fits (this, of course, necessitates turning his list into a table so that he can add another parameter for each entry- namely, how much does it apply- and then organize them by said metric)

If you ask him what his gender is, he has a spectrum of responses based on how familiar with xenogenders you are.

0 - "Sure, you can use he/him pronouns for me"- for those who lack the context of there being more than 2 genders (aka, Splinter)

1 - "I'm nonbinary, which means I'm neither fully a boy nor fully a girl but he/him pronouns are fine"

2 - "I'm a xenby (that's xenogender+enby) with some masculinity in my gender identity"

3 - "I am a mascuon neurogender gendercollector. My other lead genders include, but are not limited to: autigender, purplegender, techgender and vibrogender"

4 - literally just shows them his gender-collection document- only 2 people have ever had this privilege: Mikey and April. The latter of whom accidentally saw it briefly over his shoulder before even knowing that he's nonbinary/trans, but when she was cool about it made him trust her enough to info-dump about his gender to her (as he does semi-regularly with Mikey when there has been a significant update). Unlike with Mikey, he hasn't info-dumped to April about his gender more than once (she tried, she really did. But she could only pay attention for so long before her eyes started to glaze over)

Some of Donnie's other gender labels include (but are not limited to) darkwebgender, deepwebgender, genderwhat, neurbinary, nesciōgender, rouene, stebaonic, stimgender, void hoarder, xumgender

Queer Headcanon Part 1 | Queer Headcanon Part 2

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queer-advice-hotline · 5 months

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hii!! apologies in advance for the long ask- i am a rambler.

i’m genderfluid (any/all pronouns, afab (relevant to the discussion)) and so the idea of physically transitioning is. weird for me. because while some days i definitely want to be Shaped Different, i’m usually neutral and sometimes even euphoric to exist in my current body. because of this, my transition has been mostly social- i kept my name, got more pronouns, and started dressing in a way that made me happy- and i’m pretty chill with it! i don’t plan on starting t or anything permanent like that. HOWEVER, i’ve been looking at photos of people post-top surgery and there’s a part of me that REALLY wants that. i’m pretty happy with how my chest is at the moment (i don’t bind, and i don’t need to wear bras so no big dysphoria there), but i for sure have days where i wanna be completely flat chested. something as permanent as top surgery wouldn’t work for me, though. my “goal body” changes all the time. however, i still wanna be able to look at my chest, see myself (trans) there, and be proud of that part of me. i think even moreso than the flatness, the thing i’m most jealous of with top surgery photos is the scars. i know for a lot of trans folks the scars are a “downside,” but i’ve always found them gorgeous and a wonderful symbol of trans joy. i’d love to be able to keep my chest shape, but have top surgery scars as well. i’m considering getting them tattooed, but there’s a few things i’m still hung up on.

1.) i don’t know whether i’d want the scars to look realistic or more cartoony. i’m worried i’ll pick one and wish i picked the other.

2.) it still won’t be socially acceptable for me to be shirtless in public because i’ll still have visible boobs and i resent that idea

3.) i don’t really just want an imitation of the scar, i want Top Surgery Scars. if i get them tattooed, there won’t be any actual scarring. it’ll be visual, but the tactile part is important to me, too- the raised skin and all that that you can actually feel.

4.) i have a fear of needles, and finding a tattoo artist who is both willing to tattoo top surgery scars on me AND help me accommodate that fear sounds like a very tall task. also, i’ve never had a tattoo and don’t know how i’d respond to it!

i’m a chronic overthinker (if you can’t tell) and before i can even start to put this plan into action i manage to completely overwhelm myself with these worries. i know i want this, i have for at least a year now, but i have no idea how to go about getting it. how would i start looking for the right artist? better yet, is there some procedure i could get that actually gives me the scars without changing anything else? i know some people do scarring stuff for gender reasons, but i have no clue if it’s an option for me. any advice about any of this would be great. thanks so much! <3

There a few options I've found to recommend to you:

Intentional scarring for aesthetic purposes definitely exists, if that sounds like what you want. For that I would recommend look up some information on intentional medical scarring, there are websites where you can read for some information.

You can get breast reduction surgery, to get the actual scars while keeping some of the shape.

If you decide to get top surgery, you can get breast forms, to keep the shape when you want it, while being able to be shirtless, like you said you wanted.

Tattoo artists can definitely accommodate a fear of needles, that's super common. For that, call find some artists whose work you like, via social media, the internet, however you like. You can call the tattoo shop, email, or dm the artist to get in contact with them and explain your fear and what you need for that, as well as what you want done. they will be able to explain if they can/will do that and what accommodations they can offer.

As for the cartoon vs realistic tattoo, that's a personal choice, but having it edited or redone is always an option.

#1-800-queer #queer advice hotline #advice calls #gender calls #queer #long distance calls

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eolewyn1010 · 6 months

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Reading Percy Jackson TLT was an ordeal for me 2 - Characters

While I can repeat my disclaimer here that I only ever read The Lightning Thief (a translated version, no less) and won't try with the rest of the series, that's still about all of the slack I'm willing to cut Rick Riordan. I don't feel this is a good book, so get it off my chest I shall. Let's get down to business, and when I say business, I mean character work.

Is anyone here not a plump stereotype?

I have real difficulties to find a character here that has more depth than a cardboard cutout. I mean, let's forget about the main trio for now, but is there anything to Chiron beyond Wise Mentor? Oh, yes. The gaslighting. He wants Percy to go to Camp Half-Blood anyway. What is the point of telling him that he hallucinated shit for months?? That's an inexplicable dick move for someone we're supposed to see as a positive, caring mentor figure, but it's not the same as giving him depth. Nevermind that he was introduced via "sometimes he had an expression in his eyes like he was hundreds of years old", which... I said I hate this sort of oh, but it couldn't POSSIBLY be THAT foreshadowing. It's lousy. It's about as subtle as "this guy is EVIL, you see? He took money from an orphan charity fund to buy himself a bigass house with golden toilet seats!" It sounds like something from a cartoon.

There are a couple characters who have a little more groundwork to them than that - I appreciate Percy's mom and the subversion built up with Hades. I do not appreciate pretty much everyone else. People who are evil are obviously and obnoxiously evil (and in case of Medusa and Echidna, so obviously that they make Percy and Annabeth look dumb as fuck). They are also so stupid that you wonder how they function in their jobs (animal smugglers who feed lions with vegetables and herbivores with meat? Come on; they want to sell these animals alive). And Riordan's evil = ugly shorthand gets old really fast. Honestly, it already got old with his bully back at his human school. It also brings up a serious moment of confusion when Percy describes recognizing Ares because Ares looks similar to his daughters at the camp - except... Percy says Ares is "sort of handsome". He went out of his way to tell me how ugly Clarisse and the other bully girls are. So. Looks good on a guy, but not on the girls? Is that sexism or what? I wouldn't put it beyond Riordan for reasons I will go into when talking about mythology. Then there is every character we're supposed to hate using the same slur: "Freak." Can't you think of anything more creative? Especially coming from Ares, it sounds weird: Why would he think of demigod kids, of which he has a few of his own, on the same terms their shitty human step-parents do?

Annabeth, the know-nothing know-it-all

And then there's Annabeth, the deuteragonist. Also, the one where the set-up stereotype falls completely flat. See, we're supposed to think she's that smartass girl who knows everything better to the point of being annoying, kind of Hermione but with a terrible attitude. She's often described to look like her mind is going a mile a minute, she's Little Miss Exposition when Chiron is not around, she knows the world of the Half-Bloods and Immortals since she was seven; she has it all down. Well. Except several situations don't make her appear very smart at all. She ignores Grover's warnings when he says he can smell a monster, just as Percy does. She looks down on Grover for no reason (except maybe Fantasy Racism, which is a really bad trait for someone who has lived around satyrs and the likes since she was seven). She doesn't pick up on Medusa knowing Percy's name without being told. She prioritizes her being hungry over caution with strangers, just as Percy does. She leaves him alone with strangers when their instincts tell them both it's a bad idea. For someone who's oh-so-bright and level-headed, she fails the most basic logic.

Let's also mention Annabeth's big passion, architecture. It doesn't look very good when I know after the first vague description of Camp Half-Blood that Rick Riordan doesn't know shit about Ancient Greek architecture beyond having watched a few toga movies in his time. Because he repeats this lack of knowledge in a character who he claims knows better. Granted, the reason why I know better is because I'm minoring in Classical Archaeology, and most of the readers probably don't. But here's the thing: If you wanna write an expert in a field, you should really read up on the field. Ideally, let an expert edit the relevant parts of the text. "Write what you know" doesn't mean "hands off of non-you experiences!", it means "do your research"; it's a point of respect towards your reader not to assume they know nothing anyway. I don't know why he insisted on this being Annabeth's major interest - I mean, I do know; he did because it's a basic trait of Athena's and Riordan isn't very creative in character-building. The St. Louis Gateway Arch as an example of impressive architecture for a CLASSICALLY educated architect?? You've gotta be kidding me.

The other thing about Annabeth is that I just. Don't. Like her. She keeps being rude to Grover. She never explains anything to Percy and then complains about his ignorance. Her bitchiness is persistent and unprovoked. The reason she gives him for why they shouldn't get along doesn't even make much sense - because their parents dislike each other? The respective parents in question are barely even involved in their lives! What kind of a lame justification is that? You aren't your mother and Percy isn't his father, and parentage is not a personality (except when it kind of is, but I'll get back to that). And it takes so long for her to do anything likable... yet her constant insults don't count as bullying because, you see, she is pretty. Honestly, for at least half of the book, this seems to be the only justification why she isn't put on the same level as Clarisse. She tells Percy it's his fault the bus got blown up because he fought against the furies who made the bus blow up? Make it make sense. And then she bitches at him again because if he dies, she won't get to fulfill her mission successfully. Yeah. She just made her alleged friend's possible death about herself. Awesome.

This ship is sailing without me

I know a few things about the Percy Jackson series as a whole, for example that Percy and Annabeth are going to be an official couple sooner or later. There is the ship-teasing in this book already, and I assume it'll develop onward from here. Hm. I'm so not on board of this ship. I know a bickering romance when I see one, and this doesn't look like one. Because 1) the admiration and positive feelings seem largely one-sided for Percy, and 2) the insults and sarcastic retorts seem largely one-sided for Annabeth. This is not a balanced dynamic. It feels like Annabeth has made it her hobby to shit on her supposed love interest and be as unhelpful as humanly possible, but he compliments her at every turn, and she expects him to bow to her bossy attitude. And Percy outright says at one point that she talks to him and Grover the same way she talks to a dog. Bad news: The Cerberos scene was the only moment when I sympathized with Annabeth, and that statement severely undermined my sympathy.

But, say it with me now, she is pretty. So of course she's nothing like those nasty bullies, the daughters of Ares. And also, she blushed and was embarrassed when she was supposed to walk into that love tunnel with Percy to retrieve a MacGuffin, for fuck's sake; he didn't ask her for smoochies! "What if anyone sees us?" my ASS; you are 12-year-olds alone in a closed-down theme park; if anyone sees you there, they'll ask you what the hell you think you're doing on other people's property, you stupid bint!, so there! Yeah. No. I really hope for the future books (blindly; I will not read them) that they'll get to something that feels more mutual, because whatever they have in this book is far from cute. It's tiresome.

Consistency whomst? Don't know her

I have real difficulties to get a grasp on the main trio. Even Grover, whom I do like best among them, has a few moments that just make me go, "huh? How does that fit with what we have been told?" For example, at some point in the camp Percy and Grover are whining something about weaving baskets. It makes sense that Percy, the action-oriented 12-year-old from the human world, would think weaving baskets is the lamest shit ever - it makes zero sense for Grover to look down on it. He's lived in this world his entire life; what does he think how everything works if no one is taking care of the everyday jobs? What does he think how the camp is running if no one does the necessities?

Also. Does Grover have a good instinct for monsters, or does he not? He is the first to warn of Medusa, but with Echidna, it's suddenly Percy who gets a bad feeling. Percy also tells us that Grover is his best and only friend, then treats him as an idiot to make fun of half of the time. They cast a POC to play Grover in the series, and I swear to God, if they have a boy of color running around there eating garbage and mainly being present to be mocked by the other two protagonists...

Then there's Percy's attitude about people. Which also makes sudden switches from one adventure to another. The bus stunt with the furies? Fuck the other passengers, amirite? They can have all the trauma they can get; who cares if they get hurt. Afterwards, Percy talks about them in a supremely eye-rolling manner when the bus has crashed and everyone is panicking and there's probably injuries. But during his little touristic trip in St. Louis? He's suddenly all hero and wants to rescue people. Then he lets wild animals, including a fucking lion, on the loose in the middle of a city full of people, and snarks at Cerberos squishing dead people even deader. Does he care about humans, or does he not?

Even Annabeth, as consistently dislikable as I find her, had me go, "what?" Throughout half of the book, I was suddenly told that she's, like Percy, dyslexic. And narrator Percy says it in a manner of, "I had forgotten that she was also...", so I was like, "did I forget it as well?" and went back to look it up. I hadn't forgotten. It wasn't established before that point. Don't gaslight me, Riordan.

Where's my protagonist at?

While I liked Percy in the beginning, I found it increasingly difficult to emotionally connect with him. That started with the death of his mother. Besides Percy mentioning her on a few occasions, it didn't seem like he was grieving. His distress about her loss was very brief, and yeah, I get his whole angry-12-year-old spiel, but he's still a kid who just lost his mother? The only parent he loved? Eh. On the other hand, his ties to Camp Half-Blood are vastly oversold. He says it feels like a new home after a couple days; leaving it pains him deeply... after all of. Two. Weeks. How am I supposed to believe that? In what way was it more of a home to him than his human school? Where he also had a friend and some bullies, and his mom was not there? Even after the mission, the time he spends at the camp is just skipped. Zero connection for me as the reader. On the more amusing side of this, Charon in the Underworld singing a Barry Manilow sing confuses me less than Percy, a 12-year-old millennial, recognizing a Barry Manilow song.

And sometimes I'm just wondering what the hell is going on in Percy's head. He describes the situation at Medusa's shop as increasingly uncomfortable - but he ignores the warnings of Grover and then Annabeth, and he allows a stranger to take a photo of them? CREEPY! Has his angelic mom not warned him about strangers? That seems wildly counterproductive. He tries to put it to his not remembering the Medusa myth in that moment and not connecting the dots, but I'm not buying it. She's all, "everyone loves children", and he doesn't go, "ew, stay away from me"? And after that, the very next situation he has a bad feeling about? "Nah, it's okay; I can stay alone with some weird stranger. You guys go ahead." *facepalm* Beating your reader over the head with something like that comes at the detriment of your characters' apparent intelligence. And the confrontation with Luke reinforces that. You don't have that many friends, Percy! And you refused to even consider the possibility of Grover or Annabeth being the one to betray you! To then cheerily prance away with an obviously troubled Luke doesn't look smart.

Lineage is not personality

Last but not least, why is this something that Riordan and Rowling gotta have in common? It frustrates me to no end - the assumption that you can easily sort people, in this case kids, into personality categories. And in Riordan's case, the personality traits are determined by their lineage. It's not Slytherins; it's the children of Ares who are cruel bullies. Annabeth the smartass is not a Ravenclaw; she's a daughter of Athena. The impulsive, fearless protagonist is not a Gryffindor; he's a son of Poseidon, one of the Big Three. Oof. This makes things very easy for Riordan, and it makes things very flat. Aphrodite is the goddess of beauty, so her kids are vain and useless (yes, I am planning to shred this via a look at mythology). Demeter is the goddess of nature, so her kids are gentle little flower children (same). Kids of Hermes cannot be trusted because he's a trickster. Kids of Hades were the fascists of last World War. Not only do these categories not work because Riordan's takes on mythology are at least very one-sided and superficial; he also tries to hammer home that who your parents are will determine your personality. It's a way to simplify characters, and a notion I loathe.

#I'm not gonna tag this as Percy Jackson because the fandom would have my head for it #personal opinions #this got way salty #got this out of my system #books

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pioneeroverc-my-5000th-sideblog · 1 year

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Summary of March:

Bouncing between focus and being completely scattered. Mental health very poor. Managed to take some time to play games without feeling guilty about it, which was good. No scenes again because I still always think of either these big elaborate ideas that are a day+ of actual work (and so don't get done) or just 'sketch of character doing nothing so I can try to get their likeness'. Really need to find out how I can add perspective backgrounds to portraits or something lol

Still reducing workload until I get onto something I can actually complete in a month.

Plan from February:

All monthly/weekly goals for the year ✗ no backgrounds

10x 5 minute What Am I Scared Of sessions (inc photo drawovers) ✓ don't know how much it helped though!

Thumbnail/sketch for K/ylux calendar ✗ might drop out of this

DAB Lesson 7 - redo form intersections ✓

DAB Lesson 7 - 4 vehicles ✓

FEH design ✓

Proko - review notes ✓

Proko - next body part ✗ took notes for this, started doing initial tracing

April plan:

3x 100 comp

5x scared

DAB Lesson 7 - 2 vehicles

Proko - shoulder bones

DrawThis - 2x 2h videos

Rough sketches for all 5 FEH alt ideas

1x background sketch/screencap study (1h timer)

1x simple form studies (1h timer)

Look at how FEH artists handle small details/trims with lineart ✓

notes and improvements from finished stuff:

USE PHOTO REFERENCE FOR EXPRESSIONS and try more open mouths ✗ no expressions this month. fuck, do more hair studies ✗, use photo reference to figure out stylised ¾ eyes ✓ still haven't figured it out though, push unhorizontalness ✓, try to unstiffen poses before doing lineart (separate pass)✗ but this did improve from the unhorizontalness thing

guy: eyes too sunken in OR far side of face/chin sticks out too much, folds on shoulder don't take into account that there actually is a shoulder there, arm is completely straight, pose is pushed a bit too much but I actually don't mind that

m/ichalis: lines REALLY messy (due to rushing to finish for a self-imposed deadline), eyes too flat/centreline of nose doesn't stick out enough, flat jaw area (mouth doesn't imply any curvature to mandible area), ears on rabbit aren't oriented correctly (v hard angle though), collar thickness is different on either side, hair doesn't follow contours of head at side (common problem), pose doesn't make any sense but was the only way I could think of to get the rabbit into frame so I guess I can let it slide, temple area shaded way more 3D than the rest of the face and looks weird

s/eth: nose/mid-face too long, drawing details like trims with lineart looks weird, hands not 3D, sword doesn't quite fit comfortably into hands (copied hand reference too faithfully), wasn't sure how to do top contours for thigh high boots because I didn't know exactly how the slightly raised leg worked or interacted with pelvis, also wasn't sure how to handle material on tunic moving with raised leg

a/yra: back chestplate thing too curved (looks like turtle shell), sword pose impractical, sword blade looks really thick and not sharp at all, tree in background too abstract - doesn't look like tree (holes in foliage make it look like a flat shape stuck onto the trunk), hair looks like it's stuck together, Small Other Eye Syndrome

a/rvis: TOO DARK, shading inconsistent with lightsource (looks like facing him but the background is a rimlight), not fully lineless or lined - lazy, shading on nose really bad because of the light coming from the direction it is, hair doesn't follow contour of shoulders/chest, do like how lost edges were executed though

v/alter: drew leg armour without really knowing how it would fit over the leg (couldn't figure out how to make the cutout not dig into the thigh) and so had no idea how to shade it either, shapes on knee guard inconsistent between sides, silhouette very static/horizontal, arm at his side looks really awkward (I did intentionally want it by his side and not in a more dynamic pose but it looks like he's pushing it down), glow isn't glowy enough, colouring messy (I did clean up the lineart though which is a good step forward)

ACTIONABLES: USE PHOTO REFERENCE FOR EXPRESSIONS and try more open mouths, do more hair studies, use photo reference to figure out stylised ¾ eyes AND NOSE, push unhorizontalness, see how other (FEH) artists handle trims

5MIN SCARED IDEAS: find good hair examples and trace, find ¾ photos and trace eyes/nose, trace torsos for gesture, review/learn leg muscles, trace thigh high boot opening contours from actual photos

#end of month

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pretending-ican-write · 3 years

Text

Tinder but make it your girlfriend

I'm so sorry I haven't posted anything in agesss but I've been very much preoccupied with university and writer's block but this came to me after reading @sour--disposition 's fic on a similar idea!

In this, the reader is a mcyt/streamer and Tommyinnit's sister and dating Ethan.

Y/H/T (your hometown)

Y/A (your age)

Y/H (your height)

You were sat in the green room, idly scrolling through twitter responding to replies from fans and your friends, waiting for one of the crew to let you know it was your turn. Everyone else had already had their turn, returning to recount the lines used by the boys through laughter.

Originally you weren’t meant to be in the video but one of the girls had pulled out last minute so the boys had asked you to fill in the spot. As Ethan’s girlfriend you’d agreed to take part because you thought it would be funny to be involved instead of just being behind the camera.

Emma came back into the room, drawing you out of your thoughts, “good luck Y/N, I think you’ll need it.”

You smiled at her before getting up to follow the crew member into the shoot room. As soon as you walked in, the boys cheered. You stepped onto the footprints and looked at the camera to introduce yourself.

“Hi. I’m Y/N, from Y/H/T and I’m Y/A,” you looked at the line of your friends in front of you, “do your worst boys.”

Simon stepped up to the cut out first, trying to hide his smile, causing you to smirk back at him.

“Hi. I’m Simon, I’m 28 and I’m taller than Ethan,” he deadpanned, looking straight at you.

Alongside the other boys, you burst out laughing at Simon’s line, as Ethan made noises of insult from further back.

You stopped laughing enough to respond, “I mean the thing is, you’re right. So I’m gonna go for yes.”

The laughter resumed as Simon went to the right, flipping off your boyfriend as he went when JJ went up next. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what your friend was going to say.

He looked at you, “I’m JJ, I’m 27 and um, I’m not a weatherman but you can expect a few more inches tonight.”

“Oh God I feel sorry for your girlfriend, “you replied with a small laugh, “I think you might be exaggerating with a few inches there JJ.”

JJ put his hand to his chest, staggering back into Stephen at your response.

“It’s a hard no for me JJ. Not sorry,” you decided, dramatically swiping your hand to the left.

He moved over to the left, with an overdramatic pout, “I will never recover from this Y/N.”

“I’m sure your ego is big enough to survive this,” you smiled at him sarcastically, “who’s next?”

Stephen stepped up to the footprints, “I’m Stephen, I’m 25 and- you know what? Nah.”

You looked at him in shock as he went over to JJ whilst the others descended into laughter, Simon falling over and a couple of the others leaning on each other for support.

You pointed an accusing finger at him, “you know what? I expected that from Freezy but not you Stephen. I’m disappointed.”

“What did I do for this slander?” Cal protested.

“We haven’t got the time to explain that,” Lux laughed.

Tobi was next up, “Hi Y/N.”

“Afternoon.”

“I’m Tobi, I’m 27 and I’m 6 foot tall.”

You looked at him with amusement, “Ethan how tall am I?”

“Y/H,” he replied with a matching look.

“I thought so. If you’re 6 foot Tobi then I must fucking snow white,” you answered, pointing him towards the no side, “that’s just a bold faced lie.”

After Tobi came Callux who you knew was gonna be using a pick up line, “give us your worst then Lux.”

“The standards are high Y/N?” Asked Simon, currently the only when who you’d said yes to.

“We’ve established the bar is in hell, I’m dating Ethan,” you deadpanned, smirking at the laughter that followed.

Cal began after you’d all recovered, “I’m Calum, I’m 29. I have 206 bones in my body. Want to give me another one?”

You nodded, “yeah sure. Come here and I’ll break your leg in 2.”

Lux looked at you in complete shock whilst you just stared back at him, “off to the left you go Luxxy.”

Following him was Vik, “I’m Vik, I’m 25 and I play minecraft.”

“I mean I think Tommy would disown me if I said no but because you’re also an mcyt I feel I’m legally required to swipe right,” you explained, gesturing to the right.

Finally it was the turn of Ethan. He stepped up to the cut out and looked at you. You stared straight back at him, not breaking eye contact.

“Are they having a fucking staring contest?” Exclaimed JJ.

You nodded, “and I won.”

“I’m Ethan, I’m 24 but I’m pretty sure you know that. If you swipe left then I’ll no longer give you access to my wardrobe.”

You sucked the air in between your teeth, “see as funny as it would be for me to swipe left that is not something I’m willing to risk.”

You put your hands in a heart as he joined the other boys. He smiled back to you and you knew you’d be stealing the very t-shirt he was wearing later.

As Freezy stepped up you took a sip of water from the bottle in hand, “Hi. I’m Cal, I’m 26 and I’m also taller than Behzinga.”

Ethan put his middle finger up at Freezy which made you nearly spit the water from your mouth. You managed to swallow the water before pointing a threatening finger at your boyfriend warning him to behave.

“It just isn’t funny when you steal the joke Freezy. But I guess that’s why most your content isn’t,” you mused, siding him to the left.

He staggered into JJ who brought him to the floor as he ‘died’ at your take down.

“You’ve managed to kill 2 of them today Y/N. I hope you’re proud,” Ethan huffed.

You nodded, “yeah and now I’ll steal all their subscribers. Thank you KSI for your help, Freezy less so.”

“Can we have her removed from the set please?” JJ complained, “she’s destroying all of us.”

Vik shook his head, laughing, “it’s hilarious.”

“Only because you’re on the other side of it, fam!”

A crew member called out to you all, “can we move on to Harry please.”

When your best mate stepped up with his upside down notebook you burst out laughing, “I’m sorry Bog. Please continue.”

“Um, I’m Harry, I’m 24 and I actually have a poem for you.”

“Let’s hear it then.”

Harry cleared his throat to read, “Roses are red, the sun is bright, Y/N can’t play bedwars, she is so shite.”

“Insulting her doesn’t work,” shouted Stephen.

You flipped him off, “shut up Stephen. See I have some issues here. On one hand, you’re insulting me Harry but it’s also true. Plus, I actually wrote that poem Harry.”

The others 'ooed’ teasingly at your point before you continued, “but because it’s you I’m gonna say yes.”

He gave a little cheer and joined the others on the right, fist bumping Ethan.

The last one left was Josh, who you were praying wasn’t going to say anything weird given that you saw him like a brother.

“I’m Josh, I’m 29 and… no I just can’t do it. It’s too weird,” Josh laughed and walked to the right.

You breathed out a sigh of relief, “I’ll be honest I’m quite glad for that.”

With the boys all sorted to either side, the shoot was finally over and you were all free to go back to your flats.

You arrived back at your apartment to take a shower and change into Ethan’s t-shirt with a pair of leggings before joining him on the sofa to order takeaway and pick a movie.

He slid his arm easily around your shoulders, pulling you into him, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. You closed your eyes, the exhaustion of the long day finally hitting you.

“Thank you for being in the video,” Ethan murmured in your ear.

You smiled into his shoulder, “it was fun. Any opportunity to take the piss out of the boys.”

#sidemen #sidemen imagine #behzinga #behzinga x reader #ethan payne #ethan payne x reader #sidemen x reader #mcyt

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

The Kind of Girl You Take Home to Mom (part 3 - FINALE) | Andy Barber x reader

(part 1) (part 2)

summary: andy knows how to take what he wants, and he wants you.

word count: 5.6k

warnings: SMUT, subtle dubcon elements, loss of virginity, infidelity (obviously), wedding ring kink (shocking!!! jk),

a/n: wow, after all this time I FINALLY finished this series. sorry it took so long. I still have an alternate ending that I want to write... but I wanted to go ahead and get this out first. thank you everyone for your patience! I kind of expect this to flop despite being the most requested thing ever, but idgaf.

“Honestly? I always had this weird fear that he was going to try to seduce one of my girlfriends.”

For the second time that day, you choked.

“Wh— are you okay?” Jacob gasped, running over to you as you coughed up water.

Your attempt to respond was useless as you could only sputter and cough, trying to communicate that you were fine with a casual wave, but only managing to flail your arm wildly.

“Was it something I said?” he pressed.

“No, I just—” you wheezed, but interrupted yourself with another coughing fit as your eyes watered from the lack of air.

He slapped your back to try to help you along but it wasn’t very effective, just adding one new source of pain to your predicament. I always had this weird fear that he was going to try to seduce one of my girlfriends, that was what he’d said. What does that even mean? Did he mean it like “I always had this fear, for no good reason,” or did he mean it like “I was always afraid of this, and now it’s come true”?

The way Jacob was looking at you— kind, concerned, patient— it didn’t seem like he suspected you of anything. He probably would’ve led with that if he knew something, right?

When your airways finally cleared and you were able to start catching your breath, you finished getting ready for bed quickly and hopped into bed. You couldn’t handle any long conversations with Jacob, though you tolerated some cuddling before you fell asleep.

You dreamt that night that you were drowning. Andy was holding you, his arms wrapped around you from behind as he pulled you to shore. Or was he pulling you under? Either way, you figured you’d had enough water in your lungs for one day.

You probably should’ve let them win at Scrabble… you just couldn’t help yourself.

“I have…” Jacob trailed off as he counted in his head, “177 points.”

“209,” Laurie announced, reaching over to rub Jacob on the shoulder sympathetically. “Sorry, honey.”

“384,” Andy grinned, setting down his pen and pad triumphantly and looking to you for your score.

“Um,” you stalled, almost embarrassed to say now. “I got, uh, 559.”

Laurie and Jacob erupted into sputters of confusion, demanding that you recount your points as if they hadn’t all seen you play ‘quixotic’ on a triple word space.

“Good game,” Andy murmured with a soft smirk as he stood up and left the table. You smiled back at him quickly, the other two too busy recounting the numbers on your pad to even notice.

So, that was the end of board games for the night. Jacob suggested a movie but you just knew that would just be you and him cuddling under one blanket… while Laurie and Andy cuddled under another. You weren’t sure you could take that. Instead, you decided to read your book outside— even though you figured Laurie was disappointed you didn’t want to do anything more social. Complimenting her beautifully landscaped backyard eased the blow, though.

It was hard to get comfortable on the patio couch, not because of the couch itself but because you knew it wouldn’t be long until somebody bothered you. When you heard the door open, you were a little disappointed to see Jacob approaching you.

“Hey,” he smiled, sliding in next to you on the couch and wrapping an arm around you.

“Hey,” you greeted in reply, slightly flat in your affect as you immediately dove back into your book.

“You’re feeling okay, right? We could go for a drive if you need some space,” he offered, rubbing your shoulder gently.

“No, I’m alright,” you mumbled. “You know me, I like my peace and quiet when I can get it.”

“You… like them, don’t you?” He must’ve sensed that you didn’t understand what he was referring to at first. “My family, I mean.”

“Oh! Yeah, that’s not the issue, really. I know we’re going back home tomorrow but I still need to decompress a little bit. I’ll be more social tonight, promise.”

When you looked up at him, his face was closer than you’d anticipated. It reminded you of when you two met, at a party where the music was so loud that you’d had to stand about this close to be able to carry a conversation. Well, technically that wasn’t the first time you met, because you had him in one of your classes that semester, but it was the first time you’d talked. He was fun, he was new, he was friendly. I can’t stay long, I’ve got a test in the morning, you’d yelled your explanation. You’re gonna ace it anyway, he had dismissed at the time, so you should stay and have fun! You deserve to have fun.

Maybe that was what had made you attracted to him: you couldn’t think of anyone else who had been so worried about what you deserved. But now, Andy was added to that list. You hated to imagine that Jacob had inherited that nature from his father. Is he treating you right? Andy has asked you that night, and you really weren’t sure even now what the answer was. He certainly wasn’t treating you poorly, but was that enough?

Back in reality (and not in your whizzing, anxiety-ridden thoughts), Jacob leaned in and kissed you softly. The kiss was just like him: patient, gentle, but also somehow energetic. It was… nice. Comfortable. Feeling a surge of boldness, you set your book aside and leaned into him, pushing the kiss a little deeper.

He let out a tiny little noise, nearly a moan, as your tongues began to slide together. His hand reached up to cradle the back of your head— you remembered that he did that a lot when you were making out, but all those times felt so foreign now. Your hands reached up to rub against his chest through his t-shirt; that dark maroon one he wore all the time, so much that it was forming a few holes at the hem. His hand slid down to your back and—

“Am I interrupting something?” Andy’s voice tore you both from the moment and from each other’s arms.

“Dad!” Jacob protested, sounding particularly immature with the way his voice rose to a shrill yelp of shock.

“I was just coming out here to let you know that your mother wants your help with dinner,” Andy explained, “but I wasn’t going to let an opportunity to embarrass you like that go by.”

“You never do,” Jacob sighed, giving you a quick kiss to the cheek as a goodbye as he stood up and walked inside. You felt Andy’s eyes on you as you looked to the ground awkwardly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. A few seconds after the door was shut, he spoke again.

“I couldn’t let you two get too hot and heavy, and besmirch this innocent patio couch.”

“You’d better not be mad at me for kissing my boyfriend,” you frowned as you stood up. “That’s the most normal thing that’s happened all weekend.”

“I’m not,” he assured, beginning to step closer to you. “Jealous? Slightly. Not that I see him as competition or anything.”

“Uh, you probably should,” you disagreed, raising your eyebrow in a mix of confusion and challenge.

“Honey, I saw you kissing. It was nothing to write home about,” he laughed. “He doesn’t seem to realize that, since he brought you here. Can’t blame him—-” he stepped closer to you and ever-so-delicately brushed his fingers against your arm— “but you know you can do better. You know nobody can make you feel like I do.”

“Andy,” you murmured, trying to step back as you glanced to the window by the backdoor, through which the both of you were clearly visible to anyone who sat in the living room. It was empty now, but it was too close for comfort. “Someone could see…”

“They’re in the kitchen, don’t worry,” he soothed, leaning down to ghost his lips over your cheek and neck, “nobody’s gonna see us, angel, s’just you and me…”

You didn’t want to, but you melted into his touch anyway. Just those little circles that his fingers drew on your back made your entire body erupt in shivers. “Andy,” you found yourself whispering as if you needed to remember who was doing this to you.

“I’m gonna fuck you tonight,” he whispered against your ear.

Your breath caught in your throat.

“Are you scared?” he teased. “Afraid my cock’ll split you in half?”

Embarrassed, you nodded.

He grinned, pulling back from your neck to force you into a deep, dominating kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck and clung to his shoulders, eagerly allowing his tongue access as it pressed into yours. A little moan escaped you, causing him to pull your body even closer. You had worried that kissing the two of them in a row like this would lead to an inevitable comparison, which would be beyond disgusting. But nope, this kiss made you forget that you’d kissed Jacob at all. Not that that exactly stopped it from being disgusting.

You knew if you didn’t stop yourself now, you wouldn’t be able to soon… and you really needed this kiss to end before you two got caught. Pushing on his chest, you pulled back with a sigh.

“We shouldn’t—” you began.

“No, you’re right,” he agreed with a reluctant nod. Still, you missed his touch now that it was gone. “We’ll have plenty of time for that later. It’s just hard to keep putting on a happy face when all I want is to grab you and bend you over the table and—”

“Oh god, you can’t talk like that,” you laughed nervously. “You’re gonna drive me crazy, I swear.”

“Haven’t I already?” he smirked.

You nodded, because he was completely right. With a quick wave, you opened the door to step into the house. He called your name, getting your attention as you turned around. In his hand, arm outstretched, was your book. “Almost forgot this,” he smiled.

“Right, thanks,” you nodded, taking it and going back inside.

You spent the rest of the day reaching new heights of anxiousness. Shaking your leg, chewing your lip, scratching your wrist— how could you relax after what Andy had said, how could you act casual? You were just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the obvious opportunity to arise and for Andy to be inevitable like he always was.

You weren’t sure how he did it, but he did. He got Laurie and Jacob to leave you two alone in the house. With his influential career, he was probably used to getting what he wanted, but you hadn’t anticipated that he was so good at the hard work it took to get those things.

He got you, though. Not that that took all too much hard work.

“Enjoy the movie you guys!” you told them as they were making their way out the door. Jacob leaned in for a goodbye kiss, and softly asked one last time if you wanted to come.

He pulled your shirt up over your head, and you hadn’t even gotten it all the way off before he undid your bra with a quick motion. You hated to think about Jacob in that moment, but those few times you’d fooled around with him to this extreme, that part of the process had taken quite a bit longer.

When your breasts were free his hands latched onto them instantly; the rough pads of his fingers felt good against the sensitive skin, and his hands were so damn big. You felt your back arching into his touch.

“Can’t wait to get my mouth on these,” he purred, “but I need to see all of you first.”

You yelped as he picked you up and tossed you back onto the bed. He took off your socks first, which made you feel a little hot for some reason, and then reached down to pull at your shorts. You lifted your hips to make it easier, looking up at him and gnawing on your bottom lip nervously.

As he tossed your shorts and underwear aside, you suddenly felt very naked compared to his clothedness. Probably because you were completely naked and he was completely clothed. He smiled down at you before grabbing your ankles and resting them on his shoulders, starting to kiss up your leg slowly while never breaking eye contact.

You whined impatiently. “Andy, please, need you…”

“Shh,” he soothed, “we’ve got time baby, I finally got you all to myself and I’m gonna savor it.”

His lips moved up your calf and thigh, but irritatingly skipped anywhere salacious to get straight to your hips and belly. “Hnng, Andy—”

You choked on your words when he licked over your nipple, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth. It instantly hardened between his lips and he smiled. “Baby, you’re so sensitive,” he cooed against your skin as he kissed his way to the other and did the same.

Your hips bucked up and made contact with his clothed thigh; you let out a high-pitched moan and did it again, rubbing yourself against his suit pants. The rough material sent shocks of pleasure through you as Andy smiled and left little love bites along your neck.

"Look at you, such a needy little girl," he tsked. "Rubbing your cunt on me like a whore. You're gonna make a mess, baby."

"'m sorry I just— oh, fuck," you sighed, your head falling back onto the pillow with a soft thud.

"It's only fair," he shrugged. "I don't mind spending the rest of the night with your come on my slacks. So long as you spend it with my come still in your cunt."

You gasped, trying to imagine how you would hide that from Laurie and Jacob…

But you couldn’t keep on that train of thought for very long as he started to kiss down your stomach again.

“Please, Andy, need— fuck, I need you to— um, taste me, please,” you whimpered.

“Hmm, beg a little more,” he smirked.

It was a long line of nonsense after that; some barely-intelligible string of ‘please’ and ‘Andy’ with a little flair of embarrassing whining. He laughed a little before he finally did what you’d asked, latching his lips onto your swollen clit. Your back arched instantly as your hands clenched at the comforter beneath you.

It wasn’t at all like you’d imagined it would be— it was so warm, and he alternated between surrounding you with his mouth and teasing you with the tip of his tongue. You let out a long, deep moan when his tongue slipped inside you, twisting and massaging your walls so perfectly. Your hands carded through his hair, accidentally tightening and pulling when he licked right over your clit. He didn’t seem to mind, though, just moaning against you and doing it again and again and again until your legs were quivering.

Just as you were about to tell him that you were close, he instantly pulled away to speak. “I can tell you’re close,” he purred as if he’d read your mind.

“Please, don’t stop,” you begged, but he continued to sit up and started to open his belt.

“It’s not time to come yet, honey. It’s gonna feel so much better when you come while I’m inside you— for both of us,” he grinned.

As his sweater was discarded and his trousers were pushed down, you bit your lip. You weren’t sure you would ever get used to seeing his cock, especially when it had leaked enough pre-cum to leave a wet patch on his boxer briefs.

He was on you the second he’d finished stripping, caging in your body with his, growling as he started to kiss your neck. You whined and arched your back, your heart racing as you tried to cope with the fact that this was happening, this was really happening. It was surreal, or maybe it was more than real— you were going to lose your virginity. To Andy fucking Barber.

“I think you’re ready for me, don’t you?” he asked teasingly, his hips moving forward to press his cock against your inner thigh. You nodded as you swallowed thickly, gasping as he reached down and started to rub his swollen head through your folds.

“Please…” you sighed, even as your chest tightened with distant fear.

You had wondered if what he'd said about his marriage to Laurie being sexless was true. It certainly would be a convenient lie to garner your sympathy and make him look better. But you had no doubts it was the truth when he pushed his cock into you; he moaned like a man who had dreamed of this moment for years, who had been so deprived of affection for so long.

It hurt less than you’d expected, although it was certainly overwhelming.

“Oh fuck, Andy,” you moaned,

“Say my name again, baby,” he demanded with a groan.

“Andy!” you repeated, a little louder right as the tip of his cock hit so deep inside you that it hurt— and for some reason, you wanted him to do it again.

“Fuck, you need to be quiet, or the neighbors’ll hear you,” he hissed as he pumped into you deeper and faster. “Can you do that or do I need to choke you to shut you up?”

You whimpered from fear at that idea and he laughed a little.

“Don’t act so innocent, baby, I know who you really are: you’re my dirty little slut.”

“No I’m—” you began to disagree. A quick slap to the face, not too hard but stinging nonetheless, shut you up.

“You know you are,” he hissed, “so say it.”

You could barely carry this conversation, his cock filling you so completely that you couldn’t think about anything else. “Andy, I—”

“Say it.”

You gulped but managed to pant between heavy breaths, “I’m… I’m your dirty little slut, Andy…”

He grinned and began to move faster, deeper, somehow. You clutched at his shoulders, kissing him and groaning into his mouth. When his hips slammed into yours, you moaned louder than maybe you ever had before. "You want it rough, honey?” he taunted. “Want me to fuck you hard?"

"Yes, please!" you sobbed, your voice hoarse and desperate now.

He grabbed your hips and made good on his offer of brutality, and then some, making you nearly scream. He kissed you again, perhaps in an attempt to keep you quiet, although it didn’t work that well, as you mouth fell open with every cry. His teeth captured your lip as he growled above you, holding your hips up so the angle was perfect to send his cock right into the end of you, so deep— too deep, in the most perfect way.

His cock stroking against your walls was indescribable; each thrust made your entire body erupt in shivers. The stretch was difficult but you loved it, you loved the way his body pushed yours to its limits.

"Gonna come inside you, honey," he moaned, "gonna fill you up so good, gonna mark your body with my come and make you mine."

"Oh god, Andy, please," you sobbed.

"You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” he encouraged.

“Yes, so close—” you cut yourself off as you choked on nothing, you entire body beginning to tighten and seize up as pleasure spiralled higher and higher.

“Just like that, come on my cock,” he demanded, but you couldn’t do anything else even if you tried— the coil snapped as your vision went spotty. Just as you started to close your eyes, he held your neck and stared down at you. “Look at me when I make you come.”

You struggled to keep your eyes open with the intensity of sensation washing over you, but you didn’t want to know what would happen if you disobeyed. Those blue eyes pierced through you as you shivered underneath him, and with your walls constricting his cock just felt even thicker inside you. “Andy,” you whimpered, your fingers and toes erupting into pins and needles as you felt him flexing inside you— and he must have been coming in you in that moment, with the way he sighed and his thrusts pumped deeper yet more erratically.

Warmth spilled inside you as numbness decorated your extremities and fogginess clouded your mind. You lost focus as he collapsed beside you— even when he pulled out, you still felt full, due in part to his come inside you and in part to being ruined so thoroughly by him. Maybe you’d feel normal again tomorrow, or next week, but right now it was impossible to forget that you were fucked, in every sense of the word, by Andy Barber.

He pulled you into his arms and kissed your neck slowly, his breathing slowly returning to a stable pace as his chest pressed against your back. He was mumbling something about how you were his girl, how you did so good for him, but you were already drifting into sleep even though it was barely nine o’clock.

You woke up the next morning in the guest room with Jacob beside you, who informed you that he’d found you already asleep when he got back from the movie he’d gone to see with his mom.

You left just a few hours later, waving goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Barber as Jacob pulled the car out of the driveway.

three months later...

The sun was just starting to set as you made your way home after your last class of the night. Campus was gorgeous at this time of day, but you weren’t really taking the time to notice it as you focused instead on how wonderful it would feel to kick your shoes off, slip off your bra and slide into bed. What you didn’t anticipate when you unlocked your dorm room’s door was to find Andy sitting on your bed as he waited for you. You shut the door quickly so none of the girls mulling about the hall would see him.

He looked so out of place in your dorm. He was so… adult, and yes, everyone there was an adult, but he was a whole new level of adulthood compared to the other residents of the honors dorm.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you reminded him.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” he questioned casually.

“Because your son is on the other side of the hall,” you explained, unamused. “What if he sees you here? What if he sees your car in the garage?”

“You worry too much. I don’t give a fuck if my son lives nearby, if I wanna visit my girlfriend then I’m gonna do it.”

He’d never used that word for you before— or at least, not in front of you. It made you feel nervous, glancing to the floor as he stepped closer towards you. "I think I'm too young to be your girlfriend,” you decided.

"Perfect age for a mistress, though."

You stammered as you tried to balance the way that word made you feel sick with the way it made you feel aroused. He lifted your chin with a finger, his other hand pulling you closer at the waist. "Are you trying to act innocent, honey?” he smirked. “Do you think I didn't realize that it turns you on?"

"Wh-what turns me on?"

"The sneaking around. The secrets, the lies; the fact that it's wrong, forbidden, taboo. It's why you haven't broken up with my son yet and it's why you stare at my ring all the time— yes, I noticed."

You frowned, crossing your arms impatiently. “I haven’t broken up with Jacob because my relationship with him makes a great cover for my relationship with you… I’m doing that for us. And do you think I like the ring? I hate that stupid chunk of silver, seeing it on your hand makes me so livid because it just reminds me that I don’t have you all to myself and—”

“Baby, you know I’m all yours,” he purred, kissing down your neck as your back began to arch. “Meanwhile, I have to share you with him.”

You were amazed that he could refer to his own son with such disdain, but then again, you knew how jealous he could get.

“If you’re mine then take the ring off,” you suggested between panting breaths.

“If you’re mine then take it off for me,” he countered. His left hand was travelling up your neck and you grabbed it by the wrist. He pulled back to look at you as you brought his fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of them before sucking on his ring finger, deeper and deeper, until it was poking down your throat and the ring was at your lips. Lubricating it with your spit and spinning it with your tongue, you used your teeth to pull the ring slowly off of his finger. He gasped a little as you opened your mouth and displayed it for him on your tongue, before spitting it out and across the room; it made a tiny little clinking noise as it hit your floor.

“Fuck,” he growled, the sound deep in his throat and dripping with desperation.

It felt like his hand never left your neck that night, like he was trying to claim you in every way he could all at once. He was so possessive over you, ironically. It was hard not to feel like your whole life was waiting. Waiting for the semester to end so the next one could begin. Waiting to graduate and get a job and finally begin your real adult life. Waiting for the marks Andy left on your skin to fade so you didn’t have to wear a turtleneck in June.

Waiting for Jacob to find out, like he inevitably would.

Waiting for Andy to leave Laurie, or at least do something to make it seem like this was going somewhere.

The thing about Andy was that he had this magical ability to make you stop worrying, in a way nobody and nothing else could. When you were apart, reality would set in again and you’d decide you needed to confront him the next time you saw him. It wasn’t even that you needed him to commit to you, specifically, you just needed to know what was going on— because how could he stay married through all this? He needed to leave her, not for you but for himself. You would get yourself all worked up and then he’d show up and soothe you until you forgot what you wanted to say in the first place. When you were together, the future didn’t matter anymore, and neither did everything that was wrong about what you were doing.

It was like living in a dream, a really strange dream. You were drowning in him, just like you’d known you would, but you didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want to stop the secret dates when you gave your friends and boyfriend some excuse about having to study, the rendezvous in the back of his car, the midnight phone calls where he was whispering so his wife wouldn’t hear.

You figured that after all this time of being a good girl— the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the perfect girlfriend, the kind of girl you’d take home to mom— you deserved to let go. You deserved to have fun.

#andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you #I FUCKING FINISHED IT #stay tuned for the alternate ending

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lustbile · 3 years

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What Are The Odds?

JungwooxReader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: semi public (restroom) penetrative. some grabbing and groping @ the beginning.

Note: if you’ve never played what are the odds here’s a very brief explanation. Person A wants something from person B. Person A asks what are the odds, person B says a number, for example 25. Both person A and B say a number between one and the given number and if they both say the same number person A wins. I know some people do extra rules sometimes including numbers divisible by 2 or something idk but i don’t care. 💜

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“Jungwoo, get your hand out of my pants.”

It was a harsh command, your words coming out quiet but sharp as you spoke through your teeth. Your less than forceful grip wraps around his wrist, and your foggy mind weakens the way you push at his wandering hands.

“You’re not wearing any pants,” he counters, far too serious for your liking and his greedy fingers desperately trying to dig deeper into your underwear shamelessly.

“Oh so a skirt gives you permission to be a pervert,” you swat at his hands again, huffing and pinching his skin as you turn every direction in search of your friends coming back, “they’re going to be back literally any second so can you please behave?”

—

“You’re no fun,” he finally obliges, his tone completely joking as he accepts defeat but not before pinching the skin of your belly in retaliation, “if they walk over and my hand is in your underwear, I think that’s their fault for being friends with us.”

Exactly on the queue of your hand connecting with his shoulder in an annoyed wack, you see your friends returning to the food court table you two sit at, completely oblivious smiles on their faces as they balance trays of food.

——

“What are the odds?”

“Hrm?” a small sound of confusion slipping out from around the mouth full of food you’re struggling to chew.

It was a small lull in conversation and everyone started to trickle into their own side conversations that had prompted Jungwoo to lean over and breath hotly against your ear with the sudden and confusing question. He had an issue with bringing you into the middle of a conversation that he had started only in his head, luckily for him you had a tendency to find it a bit charming, but at the moment your mind was occupied on willing yourself not to choke.

“What are the odds,” he speaks slower this time, as if a change in pace adds any context in the slightest. You finally look more at him, and notice that he’s all twitchy where he sits, his hands wringing together as he seems anxious and giddy for something to happen, “that you follow me to the bathroom right now.”

“For what?” you ask with a faux ignorance, only partially hoping it’s not for the reason you’re thinking.

“What do you mean for what?” he asks a bit louder than he probably intended, pulling the attention of one of your friends momentarily, but an eye roll and a shake of the head from you perfectly portrays ‘don’t worry, Jungwoo is just being Jungwoo.’

“You know exactly for what,” he speaks in a tone that makes you feel like you’re being scolded, but after a rough swallow, you can only smile at his dramatics, “so what are the odds?”

You huff quietly, dropping your fork clattering onto your plate to add dramatics, your bottom lip becoming your own personal chew toy as you glance around the relatively empty food court and preoccupied friends.

“Fifteen,” you finally respond after a moment of him doing nothing but glaring at you in anticipation. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to follow him and cause some chaos, but you feared saying ten would look too eager, and twenty just left more of a chance of it not happening than you wanted. Yes, you wanted to leave it to fate, but there’s nothing wrong with manipulating fate just a little.

“Fifteen,” he confirms with a grin, his legs wiggling beneath the table as he turns to face you more, his shoulders slouching and his eyes widening as he waits for your completely undivided attention to lay on him before counting down.

“Three, two, one....”

“Eleven.”

It’s in their air, same word, same number, but two different voices speak it. With a sinking heart, but warming belly, you throw your head back with a sigh when you realize he’s won.

“Excuse is up to you, since you’re such shit at what are the odds,” he taunts, only one dial of annoying away from calling you a nerd and taking your lunch money, “but you better be in the single person bathroom in ten minutes or you’re in trouble.”

He stands, giving some unnecessarily detailed explanation about where he was going before tripping over his feet towards the bathroom he’s been eyeing since the idea popped into his brain. You can only sink down into your seat and glance at the time on your phone as you wait for the perfect moment.

——

It was exactly eleven minutes after Jungwoo had disappeared that you decided to stand yourself, hoping he actually found a way to follow through on his earlier threat.

You mutter something about drinking too much water this morning, and a promise to check on Jungwoo if he still wasn’t out when you were done in hopes to mask what you’re really getting up to do. The chorus of acknowledging grumbles and a few playful ‘have fun’s seemed to be reassuring enough, and with a tug at the hem of your skirt, you're scurrying towards the bathroom you saw your boyfriend disappear into not long ago.

You stand at the door for a moment, pushing it another minute past your time limit partially to make the boy on the other side of the door squirm, but also to wrap your mind around what you’ve let him convince you to do.

It’s when you hear him quietly hiss in pain from messing with something he probably shouldn’t be touching at all, that you let out an airy laugh through your nose and lean against the locked door.

You knock gently at the door, whispering a taunting ‘guess who?’ in between taps, and before you could step back, he swings the door open, and you’re stumbling in.

“I said ten minutes,” he wastes no time scolding you for your poor listening skills, his hands grabbing for your waist and pushing your chest against the wall, “ten minutes is a perfectly reasonable time to come up with an excuse and follow your boyfriend to the bathroom to fuck isn’t it? So what could have possibly taken you so long?”

“Well, Jungwoo,” you start, fully prepared to pull something incredibly stupid out of thin air to use as an excuse, but when he presses his hips against your ass and you feel just how excited he had gotten just from his wandering hands earlier, you begin to stutter over your words, “m-maybe I just umm lost track of time?”

“Lost track of time?” he asks in a sarcastic and even borderline bitchy tone, “definitely doesn’t have anything to do with a little threat I made without even thinking earlier would it? Pfffft no how could it?”

You can’t even bite back, deliver the same level of idiotic sass that had attracted you two to each other in the first place. Not with your face pressing against the cold wall and his hands moving faster than you can process down towards your thighs.

He lets out quiet grunts of appreciation when he starts to push your skirt up and around your hips, a big evil smile crawling across his face when he sees that he had guessed perfectly correct, and you were in fact wearing his favorite pair of panties. (He swears he could pick them out from millions of pairs just from the way the elastic bites into his wrist.)

You’re pressed tighter against the wall, your panting breaths almost syncing with his own when he starts to roughly grind his denim clad crotch against you. His lack of snarky comments from the ways you’ve started to whine tells you you’ve lost him, and your thighs start to shake and tremble as you squeeze them together tightly, trying to relieve the pain from your sudden neediness and impatience.

“Jungwoo come on,” you whine, swinging your arm aimlessly behind you to swat at him, “we don’t have all day, they were already getting weird about how long you were taking before I left.”

“Fuck okay,” he says with hesitation before pulling away enough to shove your underwear down to pool around your ankles while muttering to himself.

You begin debating in your head whether or not you should touch yourself, before answering yes, you absolutely should, when you hear him struggling with his belt.

The first minuscule touch of your middle and ring finger touching your clit makes you gasp and press your forehead against the wall, the circling motions falling just short compared to the way he knows how to touch you and you can only huff in frustration from the stupidity of your own hand not knowing exactly what to do.

It’s the sound of his jeans falling around his knees and a small clicking of a cap that pulls you from your inner grumbling, but it’s the cold shock of the jelly on his fingers pushing between your thighs that makes you jerk your hand away from your body to mirror the other laying flat by your head.

“Why do you have lube?” you ask in shock and even a bit of arousal from how much curveball he could be, but you’d never admit the second part willingly to his face.

“I think the better question is why don’t you?” he asks with an air of arrogance as he pulls his fingers away and begins to audibly coat himself in the substance, “looks like im the prepared one between us for once.”

“Yeah prepared for something you weren’t even sure was going to happen.”

“Yeah but you’re letting it happen aren’t you? Loser,” regardless of the name that he throws at you, he seems to have lost his patience with the back and forth you two have started. So with the last last syllable still slipping between his teeth, the hand he doesn’t have wrapped around himself grabs you around the waist and he’s shoving himself almost completely inside you.

You don’t have time to muffle the surprised moan that falls from your tongue, instead all you can do is pray no one was close enough to the bathrooms to hear it as he starts to rock his hips against yours.

“Can’t judge me for the lube now can you?” it was rhetorical, but even if it wasn’t you would have been able to answer him. With the second thrust into you, he had already been able to seat himself fully into you, the size of him still shocking you to this day and you can only clench and squirm against him.

His hands are clumsy as the trace around your body. His non dominant hand struggles to push under the hem of your shirt to grasp at your chest, while his other dips below the skirt he was so thrilled you had chosen to wear in search of the space between your thighs.

His breath is hot and quick pants when he leans his chest against your back and pushes his face into the crook of your neck. You almost feel like you’re suffocating from how much he begins to surround you and you really for the life of you cannot think of a worse placed to pass out in than a food court bathroom with your boyfriend fucking your brains out.

It’s when his own fingers dig into your clit and his warm tongue drags up the side of your neck, so you remember the existence of your own hands. You shove one up your now stretched out top to tangle tightly with the one he has kneading your chest, while the other slams tightly against your mouth to muffle the moans and squeaks that now beat against it.

“I wanna make you come so fucking hard,” he grunts in your ear with every ounce of honestly he can pull from his chest, his hips showing you exactly how truthful he is with the way they thrust roughly against you, pushing and pulling you apart in a way that makes you feel like he’s trying to take you apart at the seams, “wanted that since I saw you put on that cute little skirt on this morning. You just live to taunt me don’t you?”

You can’t answer, too afraid that taking your hand even the slightest amount away from your mouth will expose to the whole food court exactly what’s happening behind the closed door. Instead all you do is push back against him, trying hopelessly to match his thrusts and getting a sharp bite to the soft skin of your neck in retaliation.

“Better come quick before they think we got lost in here,” he says too coolly, his ability to not sound like he’s on a brink of orgasm when you know for a fact he is almost driving you up the wall. But unfortunately, his words and the fact that you're just as much, if not closer to your finish than him, has you melting back into his chest.

Even when your thighs begin to tremble, and you accidentally step back onto his foot, his fingers don’t stutter in the slightest. The arm pushing against your chest keeps you from squirming away from him, and even with your thighs trying to push him out, he keeps his fast and unrelenting pace on your hypersensitive clit.

You’re pushing up on your toes, his one foot still getting crushed under your weight, and your neck inhumanly arching to lean your head against his shoulder as you start to come. You can hear the faint growling noise you make from behind your hand, but your mind is too busy blanking out to control anything that comes from your mouth.

You feel your eyes watering as his fingers keep moving against you to carry you through your orgasm, his own finally creeping up and making him shove himself fully inside you as he starts to come.

The feeling of him spilling inside you creates borderline unbearable waves of aftershocks to wash across you, and you can feel your body fluttering around him as you try to ruin his brain just as much as he did your own. It’s almost like a small competition sparks between you to fight against your own pleasure just to simply torture the other, but eventually once your both sporting lines of sweat on your hairlines and aching shoulders and back do you silently call it a truce.

The small room suddenly feels too hot for either of you to be anywhere close to it, but you’d rather scream than let him take his hands away from your body. You’re more than glad to shove his fingers away from your buzzing clit, but you still keep it wrapped tightly in your fist the way you do to his other.

When he pulls out you feel a disappointing emptiness but an even more embarrassing rush of fear of the evidence of his orgasm leaking onto the floor, so all you can do is whine and squeeze your thighs back together again while you and him both catch your breaths.

“Come on,” he whispers, and that and the way his hands smooth over your burning skin is almost sweet, until he swats at your ass harshly before he starts to pull his jeans back onto his hips.

“Didn’t feel like I was in much trouble,” you loudly sigh in both faux disappointment but also to help even your breathing, “guess you’re all bark and no bite puppy boy.”

He glares to the best of his ability, but his still animated brows and pouting lips makes him look hilariously cute, “you think you’re getting punished in the bathroom? Absolutely not, I’m a man of class and respect.”

“Man of respect? You just fucked me in a public toilet after a game of what are the odds.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lies, weirdly focused on redoing his belt and avoiding your eyes, “anyways we should probably go, they probably already think the chicken I got was bad or something.”

“You go,” you push him aside gentle before you begin a awkward trip towards the toilet in the corner, “I’m going to get rid of the mess you made and pee all you’re gross boy germs out so you go and please try to come up with an excuse that won’t make us both look like freaks okay?”

“On it captain,” he salutes to you before ducking out in a way that makes you question if you really truly let him just put his dick inside you, but with a growing need to pee you push it aside to waddle with haste.

It’s not until you shuffling back to the table in what you assumed was a discreet walk of shame do you realize he’s done the opposite of what you asked, as when you finally reach within hearing range to the table you’re immediately met with jeers and taunts about you and your boyfriend being insatiable freaks. But at least Jungwoo has the decency to look a little ashamed and maybe even a dash of apologetic.

#nct smut #jungwoo smut #nct 127 smut #nct imagine #jungwoo imagines #kpop smut #nct oneshot #jungwoo oneshot #nct fic

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nukenai · 2 years

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idk just some shower thoughts ranting about my experiences with my gender identity & body growing up and how Weird it was. I try very much not to be like Listen To My Cis Feelings About Shit! but, idk maybe it’s stupid to say but I deeply struggled with my body for most of my life so it’s just kinda about that

growing up I always had long hair because I was told I looked like a boy with short hair. I was into typical “boy things” and people would wonder why I wasn’t More Of A Girl.

This will get only slightly TMI but I like. Did not hit puberty?? Idk. Like when I was 15 or 16 I finally got my period, and my face started breaking out absolutely nonstop until earlier this year, but I literally never experienced Body Changes. I am completely flat chested. I don’t have wide hips. I never “developed”. ~*Biologically*~ I’m female but I always felt ugly and misshapen because I never got an Adult Body like everyone else around me.

I was... bullied a lot for it. Kids in my one science class in high school hand-wrote me a letter telling me that my clothes were ugly and there was something wrong with me for wearing them (a t-shirt and jeans). They asked me, graphically, if I was secretly a boy because my body didn’t look like a girl’s and I didn’t have boobs. My own mother bought me padded bras because “You need to have a little something”, and would angrily ask why I didn’t want to wear makeup to “look better”.

I felt so awful about my scrawny, non-shaped self that I only wore t-shirts and jeans with light hoodies for my entire school life. A couple times I would wear dresses at dances and stuff and people were shocked that I even owned things like that.

I didn’t NOT want to be a girl or anything. The opposite. I wished I was prettier and could wear nice things, but nice things didn’t look good on my body. I wanted to be a beautiful princess but I just wasn’t beautiful and no one wanted to look at me. I never had any boyfriends or anything in school because no one was interested in me, remotely. Not a single person ever expressed real interest in me and while I didn’t particularly WANT a relationship, it really... hurt my feelings that no one would even be interested. My mom told me she felt that I “missed out” for not having boyfriends in school and pressured me into a “relationship” with a friend that expressed a crush on me post-high school, that lasted for 2 weeks bc I was miserable. We are still good friends and everything is fine now. [I am also still good friends with every person I was in a “real” relationship with as an adult but I have realized it is Not For Me because I am unable to really reciprocate Romantic(tm) feelings and I really, really hate being touched a lot of the time! I like hugs! But skin-on-skin contact, even like, hand-holdilng, is extremely uncomfortable to me and being kissed repulses me! Even on the cheek, man. Even by family. I’ve really offended family members my entire life, mostly my mom, because of this. She would always touch me and kiss me without permission and it has just ALWAYS upset me. Sorry mom.]

Only in college did I start trying to wear clothes that made me feel nice. I wore a floor-length skirt to a writing class one day with a nice blouse I had. My professor got distracted in the middle of saying something because he was so surprised to see me dressed nice - it was a nice day out and he said I was dressed like a “spring flower”. Everyone in the class started very kindly commenting that I looked really nice and seemed happy and they hoped I’d wear clothes like that in the future because I always seemed gloomy when I wore just hoodies and jeans.

Idk when the switch really happened. After my mom died I guess. I cut all my hair off and now I can’t stand it being past my shoulders. I realized that I wasn’t in high school anymore so nobody gave a shit if I looked weird in clothes, I should just wear what I wanted. I started wearing shorter and shorter skirts and dresses on hot summer days, and I realized it was really nice to wear clothes like that. I didn’t just have to stare at them in the store anymore.

I have the same body I did when I was 15. I weigh the same. I never got any boobs or hips or anything. But something changed when I became an adult and I started buying cute dresses and short-shorts. I’m 30 now and I still wear my tiny dresses and skirts. But also I wear my graphic tees with my jeans and either way I feel great. I sorta came to terms with this being My body and it doesn’t matter what other people think. I don’t love it... not yet. But, I finally actually love being a girl.

I’ve seen “gender euphoria” discussed as exclusively a trans topic and I never want to overstep. But I’ve endured 15+ years of severe, what I could really call dysphoria, over just... what my body was. I didn’t know what i wanted it to be, but it wasn’t THIS mess. And now, at almost 31, I’m finally kind of happy in my skin. I finally got treatment for my breakouts - at 30 - and even though I’m covered in scars, I feel like I’m finally taking ownership of my body.

So idk like I said this is just ranting about my own personal experiences. Again I absolutely don’t want to overstep or be like “yeah I totally get what it’s like to be trans” bc I don’t and never will. But it makes me just sort of think, I’ve come to really be able to like myself and my expression of myself. Why wouldn’t I want that for my trans friends? And even people who aren’t my friends? I think it’s an amazing feeling that took way too long for me to find, and everyone should be able to feel like this, whether they’re wearing dresses or jeans or short-shorts, man who cares.

I also don’t get periods anymore due to the birth control I’m on for a medical condition, so I get so extra weirded out by fucked up TERF shit degrading ~*Womanhood*~ down to biological functions and body structure. Like, I don’t have breasts, or wide hips, or a menstrual cycle. But I’m a woman and I know I am. This whole “Define a woman” shit is so bizarre because why should we have to? How about we let people define themselves?? I don’t feel threatened by transwomen because I think everyone should be able to enjoy finding themselves like I did. I know all TERF shit is just lies and posturing and making shit up because they’re insecure psychopaths anyways. And I might be a slight psychopath but I’m not insecure about who I am. And someone defining themselves as a “woman” in a way that’s different than me is kind of none of my business! I just. I guess I literally don’t care how other people are defining/presenting/etc themselves because it’s not? Me? I just want other people to be happy in themselves because I know what it’s like to be MISERABLE in myself, and it’s feels like being trapped in a nightmare. And having other people torment you because you’re not Their Idea of whatever you should be... it’s awful. Fuck it and fuck them.

Too many people have asked me “have you gotten your hormones checked?” when I tell them I’m AroAce, and I don’t feel like explaining that lack of sexual attraction =/= lack of sex drive and my sex life or lack thereof is so profoundly none of their business. Sometimes I wonder, maybe I DO have some kind of hormone issue. But I also could not give less of a shit! I don’t care because I’m happy in who I am and my gender/sexuality stuff. I don’t care if there’s something “wrong” with me by dumb medical standards from boring people who think I should have 3 kids by now and ask me things like “are your parents sad you aren’t giving them grandkids?” Well, my mom died 11 years ago and my dad told me a while ago that he “doesn’t think marriage and relationships are for [him]” so maybe he’s Aro too! Bottom line: who cares mind your own business

Anyways I guess the tl;dr is. I can’t wait until the warm weather comes back, so I can wear my super short slutty little dresses that people would love to tell me I’m too old to wear. Sorry, can’t hear you over all the compliments I’m getting on my sick-ass Wind Fish tattoo! And my legs look fuckin nice, hell yeah! They’re nice legs! I ride horses and have moderate muscle definition exclusively in my legs! WHOO!

Also if you ever compliment my appearance, my clothes, or anything about me, I will remember it absolutely forever, and you have no idea how much it means to me. If you’ve ever said I looked nice or I’m pretty or you love my outfit, I remember it and it is such an important memory for me.

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beth-yeet365 · 3 years

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“We’re not finished” - bws

Pairing: Bradley Simpson x reader

Summary: you’re Tristan’s cousin and you’re as close as brother and sister. When he says that he has an extra room in his flat that he shares with his bandmate, Brad, you decide to move in... What’s the worst that could happen?

Word count: 2.1k+

Warnings: some alcohol consumption, Brad being forward which ight cause ome awkward situations, like one or two curse words and mention of boner ;)

Disclaimer: I don’t know if any of this is true either way it’s an imagine so don’t expect anything that’s super true... also you play drums like Tris but that is because that’s the only instrument I can play lmao and you’re 2 years younger than Tris so that makes you 3 three years younger than Brad

It all started with a facetime call with your favourite and only cousin, the one and only Tristan Evans.

You’re moving into his flat that he also shares with his bandmate Brad. They had extra room and you have been complaining about how expensive rent is in London to live on your own and you don’t want a creepy roommate so Tris saved your ass and offered the room.

Moving in wasn’t as hard is you’d expected. Mostly because you had the other vamps helping you carry stuff to the flat.

You of course carried some of your stuff up but not being the strongest person in the world made it pretty difficult.

You especially needed help with carrying your electric drum kit cause that shit’s heavy.

“Right, Y/N, I think you’re pretty settled in.“ Tristan said, carrying the last box into your new room.

“Yeah, but I still need a bed to sleep in.“ You said.

“You can sleep on the sofa tonight and we’ll go to IKEA tomorrow.”

“Yeah from what we’ve witnessed from the times you’ve visited us on tour you can sleep pretty much anywhere,“ Connor started. “And definitely not as tall as Tris so you’ll fit anywhere.“ He then added, laughing as the other boys laughed at his comment.

“Ha ha, go on mock my height when you don’t have an awful lot yourself.“ You fired back, patting his shoulder.

“She’s got you there, Con.“ Brad said to him chuckling to himself.

“Oh, you can’t talk either, Bradley.“ you told him.

“You wound me, darling.“ He acted offended and put his hand over his chest in mock hurt.

“Hey! Don’t be flirtin’ with my baby cousin!“ Tris exclaimed jokingly.

We all laughed and decided to drink some well deserved beers after carrying all the boxes up.

Soon enough James and Connor left to go home to their own places.

You started to unpack the boxes with your clothes and putting the closet and dresser that were already in the room.

While unpacking your clothes you came across a small cardboard box you keep all your printed out pictures of you visiting the boys while they were on tour. You were like a sister to all of them.

You took the pictures out of the box and looked at all of them while sat on the ground. They were all a mixture of selfies with all the boys, pictures of the places you’ve been and pictures have taken of you playing drums. All of the good memories.

You smiled at all of them and moved to collect them and put them back in the box when a voice spoke.

“You always look so concentrate and content.“

You looked up to see Brad leaning on the doorframe of your room, arms crossed in front of his chest.

He looked good. He always does though.

To be honest, you’ve had a huge crush on him ever since you stepped onto the tour bus when you were 19 and he was 22.

“Sorry, what?“ You asked in confusion.

“When you play drums you just look concentrated but also content and happy.“ He said while pointing to the pictures of you playing, then moving to sit across from you on the floor.

“Well playing drums is such a reliever, you know? It’s just you and the sound of the drums.“ You explained to him.

“Yeah I get that.“ He said nodding. “It’s the same when I start singing or start playing guitar or piano.“

“It’s one of the reasons why I brought the drum kit with me just in case I get tired of you two.“ You said with a joking smile.

“Very funny, Y/N,“ He said. “Well I’m happy you brought it.“

“Why?“ You asked the curly haired boy in front of you, while you absentmindedly sifted through the pictures.

“Because it’s hot.”

You snapped your head up to find his brown orbs staring right back into yours.

You could feel the blood rushing to your face.

Clearing your throat just to do anything to relive the now awkward tension in the room.

“Where’s Tris?“ You diverted the conversation from the awkward situation from before.

“He popped over to the shop to get something I didn’t quite catch.“ He answered and moved to stand up.

“Oh.“ Was the only thing you could say, mentally hitting yourself.

he was now standing up, looking down at you and offered a hand to help you stand up from the ground. You gladly took it and he practically heaves up.

“Y/N-“

“I’m back!“ Tristan hollers from the entrance of the flat. “Where are you guys?“

“Coming!“ You shout back at him.

Dammit, Tris.

Sleeping on the sofa wasn’t as comfortable as you’d hoped.

It was weird not being able to move freely because of the backrest on it but at least you had Jesse to cuddle you while you were on your phone.

Jesse is Brad’s golden retriever and a national treasure to be preserved.

She proved to be very cuddly at 1 a.m.

You then noticed you were thirsty so you decided to get up and make some tea in the hopes that would make you sleepy enough for you to sleep after.

You never noticed how noisy turning on a kettle was until you had to turn it on in the middle of the night where everything seems noisier.

When the kettle boiled you found a random mug and some classic English breakfast tea in one of the cabinets.

“You awake, too?“ A voice startled you.

You jump in fright and turn around only to find Tris.

“Jeez, could’ve announced your presence without scaring me.“ You tell him, putting the tea bag into your cuppa. “But yeah I’m awake how else would I be making tea?”

“Don’t get smart on me,“ he playfully scolds you. “Why you awake, though?“

“Simply couldn’t sleep.“

“Sucks, but now you have me to keep you up as well.“ He smiles at you and walks to the kettle making himself a cuppa.

“Oh gee, am I supposed to be happy?“ You ask him making him roll his eyes at your questions.

You both moved to the sofa and sat down to talk.

Late night talks with Tris were always the best especially since you were so close and therefore could talk about everything from playing drums and nerdeing about that to mental health.

“Okay, Y/N, I have a question for you.“ He tells you making you furrow your eyebrows. He doesn’t really announce that he has a question unless it’s something or serious.

“Shoot.“

“Do you like Brad?“

Now that was a question you didn’t expect. Like never.

It caught you off guard, making it difficult for you to answer his question.

“What would you say if I told you I did?“ You ask him back.

“I would tell you to fess up ‘cause you both like each other.“ He responded.

“Is it really that noticeable that I like him?“ Your eyes widened with your ask.

“Umm, if it wasn’t you guys’ obvious flirtin’ it would be you completely snappin’ out of it and getting distracted when he walks into the room.” He explains making you put your head in your.

“Oh my God does he know?“ Your question comes out muffled because of your hands. You also avoided his amused gaze in embarrassment.

“No no, he’s just as oblivious to your feelings as you are to his.” He informs you, making you relax. You also decided to ignore Tris’ confirmation of Brad’s mutual feelings for you.

“I’ll tell you what,“ Tris starts again. “James, Con and I all agree you’re good for each other but I’ll go back to bed so you can sleep ‘cause you look like you’re tired now,“ he continues and moves to collect your mugs. “and say goodnight to you.“ he finishes when he put the mugs in the dishwasher.

“Goodnight, sleep well Tris.“ You tell him and he kisses your cheek.

“Sleep well, Y/N, we’ll try to keep it down when we wake up later on.“ He tells you and he proceeds towards the hallway

“Thanks.“

You lay down on the sofa again with Jesse coming to lay at your feet and you were out like a light.

You were aching.

You had been assembling a bed, a desk and a chair from IKEA with Tris, Brad, Con and James since you came home.

IKEA manuals were gonna be the death of you.

Tris, Con and James had gone out to the shop to get some champagne to celebrate you officially moving in since you also got your own copy of the key to the flat from the landlord.

Brad had stayed behind mumbling out some excuse for not going.

You?

You had stayed behind because you still had to move things into your room and make your bed and all that fun stuff.

“Need help?“ Brad’s voice interrupted your movements in making your bed.

“Um, not right now but thanks.“ You answered politely.

You felt awkward as you remembered what Tris had told you during the night. Even though you had ignored them you still acknowledged them.

He’s just as oblivious to your feelings as you are to his.

You finished making your bed with Brad’s burning gaze on you.

A phone pinged and both of you reached to check your phones.

“Tris says that they’re gonna be late ‘cause traffic’s bad.“ Bard said.

You could only nod in acknowledgment as you read the same text but on your own phone.

“Well what do you wanna do?“ He asked, desperately trying to break the awkward tension.

“I’m quite tired, actually,“ you confessed. “Assembling really drains the energy outta ya, ya know?“

“Yeah yeah, I get that.“ He answered and looked around your room. “Should we see if we made the bed as good as the one in the shop?“ He suggested.

“Smooth, Bradley,“ you laughed out. “But yeah, let*s.“

You both jumped onto the bed.

“This is almost better than the one in the shop.“ He says, wiggling around.

“Yeah it is.“ You hold your hand up for a high five which he high fives and let’s his hand stay there, moving to thread your fingers.

You smiled at his actions and reciprocated.

He released his hand and moved it to your face to brush some hair out of your face, making your face heat up.

You decided to make a bold move and move your face just mere centimeters away from his face.

You were both breathing hard in anticipation, trying to figure out who would kiss who first.

Fuck it, you thought and kissed him.

He immediately caught on and moved on top of you, his arms caging your head.

It felt amazing.

Lips moving together, teeth clashing, tongues exploring your mouths.

You threaded your hands in his hair and tugged at it eliciting a moan out of him.

On of his hands started moving from its position at your head down to your waist making you giggle cause you were ticklish.

He moved away from your face agonizingly slow.

“That was-“ he started saying but looked at loss for words. “Wow, just wow.“

“Yeah,“ you agreed.

You couldn’t think straight as his now swollen lips moved down to kiss your jaw and neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He would suck, then lick your skin to soothe it.

To say the boy was talented was an understatement.

You could feel him smile against the skin on your collarbone when he found that spot that would’ve made you fall if you were standing up.

“We’re home again!“ Tris’ holler interrupted your little session, making Brad groan and fall on top of you.

“We brought the champagne!“ James then hollers.

You both moved away from each other and sat up.

“Coming!“ Brad yells back at them which you were grateful for because you didn’t trust you own voice.

“You go ahead,“ Brad tells you. “I have to just sort something out.“

You snicker at him.

“We’re not finished,“ you tell him before walking out the door, smiling like an idiot ‘cause you couldn’t contain your happiness and the feeling of bliss.

One thing you forgot before greeting them was checking yourself in a mirror before greeting the guys.

“Hey guys!“ You greet.

“Uh, hey Y/N,“ James greets you back, holding back a chuckle.

Connor turned away to try and calm his laughter.

“Brad! Why does Y/N have hickeys down her neck!?“ Tris shouts while walking to your bedroom.

The smile fell off your face as James and Con couldn’t contain their laughter anymore.

Oh shit.

#bradley simpson #bradley will simpson #brad simpson #brad simpson fluff #brad simpson imagine #brad simpson imagines #bradley simpson fluff #bradley simpson imagine #bradley simpson imagines #brad simpson x reader #brad simpson x you #brad simpson x y/n #bradley simpson x reader #bradley simpson x you #bradley simpson x y/n

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dukebeelthazar · 3 years

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Blood Omen 2 Review

Hey everyone!

I know it's been a while since my last post, but Taonpest and I were busy finishing our Legacy of Kain Marathon with Blood Omen 2. And I've beaten Blood Omen 2, hell, I've COMPLETED IT by drinking every single character's blood and opening every chest from every chapter! And to anyone who wants to make a LoK marathon, do yourself a favor and skip this game. There's nothing for it.

When I started playing BO2, I thought it was fine. I thought it was one of the most basic action game you would find on PS2 and I was fine with this. But that impression of low-budget yearly action game soon dissipated and became motoneous, frustrating and overall boring. Just to make things clear, I played the PS2 version of the game which is apparently considered the worst port of that game. And you wouldn't know how overjoyed I was when I read that.

One thing that strikes the eye is the graphics. They're okay for a 2002 PS2 game, but, the atmosphere, the aesthetic. There's nothing LoK about it. I know it's technically supposed to be a transition between Blood Omen and Soul Reaver, but to me, it looked more like a WarHammer Fantasy look-alike. The characters are...what they are. Kain and his massive man-tits looks pretty okay, but Vorador looks like an estranged cousin of Shrek who decided to live in the sewers instead of the swamps. Janos looks good. Another thing that sort of annoyed me were the FMV cutscenes. Soul Reaver and its sequel had beautiful FMVs that set the tone of the game and hyped you up. Unlike Soul Reaver, BO2's FMVs were made with the in-game models which makes some shots absolutely ridiculous. Once again, I like to think this is a budget stuff that happened.

Then, there's the actual game and story. Gee, I wonder what the plot could be this time. Oh? It's another revenge story, what a surprise. No surprise here, the story is not only barely existant, but somehow, even the dialogues are actually terrible. All that poesy and Shakespearian-talk from the previous entries? Gone. And it tries so hard to be serious that it's actually hilarious.

The actual gameplay can go fuck itself. The fighting mechanics especially are the biggest pain in the ass. It's clunky and unresponsive and most annoying of all repeating way too much. Every single fight (with the exception of some bosses) are down to the exact same method. You parry 3 to 5 attacks, dodge, attack, knock your enemy down, wait for him to recover, rince and repeat. So imagine spending hours doing the exact same thing with boring puzzles and frustrating platform sequences. I did like the Eternal Prison however with its claustrophobic approach that kinda reminded me of Resident Evil. And then Magnus came in, and what could have lead to a Nemesis-like encounter just fell flat because the AI in this game is as dumb as a brick, which means there are no actual consequences for you to mess around with Magnus. This leads to the boss fights, and if you've played any Legacy of Kain game then you won't be surprised when I tell you that they suck. If Soul Reaver's bosses are on the same level as Crash Bandicoot then Blood Omen 2 is Wrath of Cortex. They are that bad.

I guess I should also mention the sound. Just so you know we played the game in French. Jean Barney and Benoît Allemane reprised their respective roles from the previous Soul Reaver installments (Vorador and Janos for Barney and Kain for Allemane) and it's great to hear them again. We also get VAs new to the franchise like the amazing Phillipe Dumond (voice-over actor of Keith David in French) as the Sarafan Lord and basicaly almost every male NPC from the game.

Unlike SR1 & 2 however, I thought the French Dub to be very hit or miss, making the poor dialogue looking even more dumber than it already is. I like to think this because of direction issues (voice acting for video games in France is very different than in the U.S or Japan) because you couldn't sound as deadpan and monotone as Uma. Maybe this is an adaptation choice? I don't know, but this makes her death scene almost funny to watch. Allemane is playing his dialogue in his usual Kain-fashion (though slightly less "jovial") but some of his lines sound wrong. And then, there is the actor that actually outshines Benoît Allemane: Phillipe Dumond. This man is 90% of the game's dialogue and each time, he delivers especially as the Sarafan Lord. There's also something weird around the end of the game where Vorador changes voice actors in the same cutscene or even mid-sentence. I think the voice-acting for this game was rushed.

That's all I'll say about Blood Omen 2. This game made me feel empty. It actually made me wish I played games I don't like because I think the problem comes from me and not the games themselves.

Blood Omen 2 is a 3/10/. Stay out of its net, brethrens.

P.S: I wish I could stream games, but I don't have the setting nor the actual physical place to do it.

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queen-ofsunflowers · 3 years

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DadWorth AU: Part 4 (Trials & Tribulations)

Unlike the previous parts, this is mostly just shenanigans since Kay and Miles at this point are starting to work on bettering their relationship after their reunion in Farewell, My Turnabout. So it’s fun and kind of angsty times because Phoenix still falls off a bridge. Miles is present for most of the cases, excluding Stolen, but his appearances mostly take place in the background.

< Part 3 | Part 5 >

Turnabout Memories

Kay’s junior year at Themis starts and the students are given a chance to look into previous cases for a project that they have to do. Kay decides to do the one that inspired her to be an attorney. Or at least, for her to start following Mia’s career. Which if anyone remembers from part 1, was the State v. Wright 2014.

At the time of the case happening, Kay didn’t recognize the defendant’s name. But now... Now she knows who it is. So she goes directly to Phoenix to get an explanation. In front of just about everybody.

Today is Embarrass Phoenix Wright Day.

If you’re wondering, Kay is absolutely stunned by the fact that Phoenix ate the necklace. She knew it happened, but it’s only now hitting her that the defendant who swallowed the bottle and the amazing attorney who so far has been the only one to beat Miles and her semi-mentor figure are the same person.

The Stolen Turnabout

With Miles out of the country, Kay (and maybe the boys klavier and sebastian too, I’m not sure) is dragged down to Lordly Tailor by Maya, and that’s where things go from there. She’s kind of surprised that it was the urn that got stolen, picking up pretty quickly that it wasn’t worth that much in the first place. (Though this might be due to her involvement in 2-2, so she knows that it has been broken before.)

Kay stands with Phoenix on the matter of whether or not Ron actually stole the urn. According to her, the guy “couldn’t even pickpocket a blind man”. Pearl kicks her in the shin before running out of the detention center. Maya and Kay have gotten pretty close to each other because of the events of Farewell, since they were kidnapped and that’s some strong bonding there. So, Maya’s hurt by both of them believing in Ron’s innocence, but with Kay’s involvement, she quickly starts to think that they might be right sooner rather than later. Still, since it hurts, Kay takes Maya’s place temporarily on the first day of investigating.

Things that happen here are Kay starting to steal stuff herself. For example, she swipes the blackmail letter on the first visit to the DeLite’s apartment. (”kay, we’re defense attorneys. we don’t steal.” “but you take evidence all the time. how is that not the same thing?” “...moving on--”.)

Kay can’t stand Atmey, especially when he starts rambling on the way he does. She both states that Gumshoe’s a better detective than he is (some of that being bias, but still) and calls him out when he claims that Miles has called Godot the best prosecutor in the country. Miles doesn’t even know who he is. Phoenix finds her interactions with him slightly hilarious (it’s a sixteen year old girl tearing an eccentric a-hole a new one, after all.)

Kay’s able to stand co-counsel for the entirety of this trial due to it taking place completely on a weekend. Which means she also gets to meet Godot. He’s... To her, he’s flat out weird. He’s Cyclops with a caffeine addiction. And he’s not able to avoid her snark either.

She gets really happy when they get the Not Guilty verdict on the first day, and her relationship with the Feys gets patched up, too. And then all that goes down the drain when Ron is arrested for murder. More investigation is needed.

When it’s revealed that Ron is actually Mask ☆ DeMasque, Kay feels kind of bad over the remark she made the day before since most of those thefts were kind of impressive to her after she read about them. That’s about as much as what happens during the investigation. She really gets into the whole phantom thief stuff, much to Phoenix’s dismay.

When it comes time for the trial, Kay feels so much satisfaction in catching Atmey. She hates him so much. She doesn’t, however, like the fact that Godot keeps throwing coffee at the defense team.

I should note that Kay thinks that Godot’s voice sounds familiar, but she can’t place why at this time. It’s been YEARS since the events of Beginnings, and they didn’t even interact. Kay just watched the trial and heard him speak. So, that whole mystery is still under wraps for now.

Recipe for the Turnabout

Kay, Klavier and Sebastian are at Wright & Co. when Gumshoe bursts through the door, scaring the crap out of the three of them and Maya in the process. She, much like Phoenix, is confused as heck as to what he’s talking about when he tells them about the phony trial. She can also vouch for what happened and the fake Phoenix. (I have plans for what happened there, i just need to watch/play the game there myself...) So everyone is confused, and this warrants some footwork.

Phoenix Wright ends up being followed by a group of teenagers during his investigation. This has been going on for a while. He’s accepted it. It’s part of his life now.

When it comes to Tres Bien, Maya’s not the only one who gets roped into working there. Through misunderstandings, Kay gets pulled in as well. The guys kind of just run off, leaving the girls in their unfortunate situation for now.

Phoenix is stuck with the boys for the time being, which leads to some pretty fun and interesting interactions, including their reactions to meeting Tigre for the first time. Sebastian’s just confused because Tigre is taller, older and the only thing about Phoenix that he shares is their hair style. Klavier verbally voices this, just going off on how the hell anyone could mistake the two. (and loses his shit at the cardboard badge. from a distance, yeah, but seriously?!)

When they eventually come back to the restaurant, being the stupid teenage boys that they are, Klavier and Sebastian find the situation Kay is in hilarious. Klavier takes a picture of Kay in the Tres Bien outfit because “everyone needs to see this”. (Everyone mostly being Ema, whose in Europe.) Kay tackles him to try and get him to delete the photo, but he doesn’t. It becomes Kay’s contact picture in his phone.

whether or not kay continues to work here after the case is still up in the air. her and miles’ financial situation is pretty good, but kay’s also the independent type, so i feel like she’d want to save her own money for things instead of having to ask for it.

It’s lucky that at this point the girls are saved from their forced jobs, and Phoenix brings them down to the park, where things go as they do in canon with Maya channeling Mia to get information out of Kudo. Phoenix just kind of pushes Kay behind him while Mia does her thing, because if Miles ever found out he let Kay do something like that, he would never forgive him. It does lead, however, to this interaction here:

“and what have we learned today?” “take what you got and exploit the men who think with their di--” “okay! let’s get back to the investigation, shall we?!” “...klavier, why are you looking down at your chest?” “huh? just thinking.”

listen, klavier doesn’t button up his shirt all the way for a reason, and this is why.

Kay gets a bit ticked off that the prosecutor is Godot again (something that the guys predict because she complained about her hair smelling like coffee for days after being in the splash zone of the last trial). Fortunately, she doesn’t have to be here since the trial primarily covers school days. However, the Themis Trio does help out with the investigation when they’re free, taking a look at Blue Screens while Phoenix and Maya handle Tres Bien. They regroup when its time to head to Tender Lender.

Things go pretty much the same from there until the end with the confrontation with Tigre at Tres Bien. There’s another change here since Tigre and Armstrong are outnumbered. Phoenix still gets punched, but its not Tigre who grabs the medical papers. It’s Sebastian in a moment of panic. This basically leads to them playing keep-away with the papers as they try to get out with them and get away from Tigre. It doesn’t work out, though, because eventually as the papers are returned to Phoenix and the gang goes to flee, Tigre grabs and pulls an off-guard Kay back. It’s an exchange -- the papers for the girl. (think that one situation in ablaze but without the threat of getting shot.)

But that’s not what happens because like in canon, Gumshoe comes to the rescue. And he is more pissed off than before because that’s his pseudo-niece. Phoenix and the kids run out of there as soon as they can. Later that night, Miles asks about the bruises on Kay’s arm from where Tigre had grabbed her. She’s not sure what to say.

Miles gets involved in the background of this case due to Kay’s injury, helping out Gumshoe when it comes to getting the bottle analyzed (and getting assault added to the list of crimes Tigre is charged with.) Both him and Kay are pleased when Tigre gets arrested.

Turnabout Beginnings

We already covered this case in Part 1. Kay was in the audience watching. Primarily, this is mostly skipped aside from Kay mentioning it to Phoenix very earlier on. I’m talking like... last part early during Reunion. Thinking about that while in the hospital sparks his interest in taking a look at it via Mia’s case files.

Bridge to the Turnabout

With Miles out of the country, Kay is free to kind of do whatever. Because she’s friends with Maya, Pearl drags her up to Hazakura, partially against Kay’s will because its cold and she hates the cold.

She faintly recognizes Iris because as said before, she sat in on Beginnings. She knows what Dahlia looks like. However, because it was so long ago for her, she doesn’t quite remember why. She does play into Larry’s whole artist thing, but refuses to call him Laurice. (”okay... good for you, larry.” “laurice!” “i’m not calling you that.”)

As for Elise, the most that Kay knows about her is that she’s an author. Though, unlike Maya, she does take note of how similar she looks to the painting of Misty, as well as Maya and Mia. (maya must’ve noticed some similarities herself, but why she didn’t say anything is a mystery to me.)

Kay’s starting to think that this trip might not be so bad... until everything goes to shit when she’s woken up by a scream. As a result, both she and Phoenix head out to the courtyard and discover Elise’s body. Unlike Phoenix, however, Kay has her phone on her. She’s not able to tell him this, though, because Phoenix is already running to the bridge. She gives chase, trying to catch up.

Things go on as normal. The bridge is on fire, they meet up with Larry. And Phoenix runs across the bridge. He falls. Kay screams.

Kay and Larry both find and pull Phoenix out of the river. Larry calls the police while Kay is trying to calm herself down and keep Phoenix from possibly dying. The only person she can think of to call is Miles. So yes, in this version of the story, Kay handles the phone call to Edgeworth, so things are a bit more well explained on that end. Not entirely, because Kay’s freaking the fuck out, but a bit better.

The police arrive, Iris is arrested and Phoenix is taken to the hospital with Kay riding in the ambulance as well (after some heavy persuasion.) She’s at the hospital all night, and is there when Miles arrives. He’s relieved that she’s alright, especially after the phone call he received from her last night. It’s pure luck that Phoenix survived the fall with minimal injury and a cold. Kay calls him stupid in at least seven different ways when they’re finally let into his room.

Kay is still freaked out over everything that happened the night before, so she sticks by her dad’s side. She’s there to straighten out Larry at the detention center and explain the magatama in a bit more detail than a fever-hazy Phoenix since she’s seen him use it multiple times before. Alon

Basically, Kay is the Maya to Miles’s Phoenix here. Miles doesn’t want her to be on the case with him, but she does so anyway. She claims it’s because she’s the defense attorney in training and she knows more about it than he does since she was there, too. During the investigation, Kay finds out about Pearl and Maya being on the other side of the bridge and gets worried as heck for their safety.

She’s also the one who handles getting Franziska to prosecute. Kay lies and says that Phoenix had a pretty big case on his hands that still needed a prosecutor, and Franziska took the bait. Needless to say, Fran’s a bit ticked off when she discovers the truth.

But the best part about this is father-daughter standing at the bench together. It is a lot of fun banter between them and Franziska, too. And Kay gets another Larry-Induced headache when he testifies on the stand. Though, due to what happened with Goodbyes, she trusts him to some extent and his trying to figure out what the heck actually happened.

When the trial gets out and Phoenix is back in the saddle, Kay calls him stupid again for investigating while sick. She works in tandem with both him and Miles for this part of the case. Yeah, she’s part of the investigation team.

She’s relieved when they finally find Pearl on the other side of the bridge (Kay gets a small hug from Pearls, have that visual.) She, like everyone else, is confused about why Godot is there. Unlike the others, however, Kay is incredibly close to fighting a man about twice her age when he starts going after Phoenix for his involvement in Mia’s death.

When the earthquake hits, the first thing Kay’s mind goes to is her dad. She races to find Miles first before anything else. She’s lived with him since she was ten years old. She knows about his fear of earthquakes.

After discovering the locks on the door, Kay does follow Miles out to the garden. He does get a hug from her, since she’s not sure what else to do at the time. Compared to last year, it shows that they’re doing a lot better. She’s also there when Phoenix comes by and manages to figure out the Hawthorne connection pretty quickly. She leaks the information to Phoenix, despite Miles’s protests. (”i’m not a prosecutor, so i don’t have to keep my mouth shut.”)

When it comes to the trial the next day, Kay’s in the gallery with everyone else since Phoenix claims that he has to do this alone (another thing that Kay calls him stupid for.) She’s on the edge of her seat the entire time -- watching as Phoenix unmasks and stands before the spirit of the woman who tried to kill him. And after exercising her from Maya’s body, Kay claims that she’s no longer phased by anything weird that happens in court.

Though, she is surprised when Phoenix accuses Godot of the crime. She doesn’t like the guy as much as the next person -- he’s a huge jerk -- but what? As the mystery begins to unravel, she starts to see how he got there, she’s kind of awestruck. She never expected Phoenix to come into his own like this. In the end, though, Godot confesses and things go pretty much the same way as they do in canon.

After all is said and done, Kay promises that she’ll become a defense attorney as great as both Mia Fey and the amazing Phoenix Wright. Phoenix will deny that this ever happened, but he did start to tear up a little upon hearing that. He becomes her mentor after the events of this case. It’ll become an important factor in Kay’s decisions later on that year... right around April.

And that’s it for the trilogy! There are some more parts that I want to add on, such as the ripples all this has created in the later games -- the investigation games especially.

#ace attorney #ace attorney au #dadworth au #kay faraday #phoenix wright #klavier gavin #sebastian debeste #maya fey #godot #diego armando #larry butz #miles edgeworth #franziska von karma #mia fey #furio tigre #luke atmey #ron delite #dahlia hawthorne #kay edgeworth au

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volturicangetit · 4 years

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A.V- Good idea

Summary: Due to a one night stand with Alec after your sister’s, Bella, wedding you get knocked up. You meet Alec again during a confrontation with the Volturi. Maybe your son can have a father in his life after all.

Request: YES/no Anon: Can you do an Oneshot were the reader is Bellas sister and she meets Alec Volturi at Bellas wedding and they spend the weekend together and when Bella comes back pregnant the reader is pregnant with Alec's baby and during BD 2 Alec finally gets to meet his son and the reader again who is now a vampire and she leaves with Alec to raise their son?

A/N: this is a little different form what I normally write. This is a fem!reader since the reader is pregnant. I didn’t use any femine pronounce but the reader is pregnant so.....

Warnings: birth, mention of blood? pregnant!reader

Wordcount: 3054

Your sister is getting married at the young age of eighteen. You support her fully in her choice, of course. You can see how much she loves Edward and you want her to be happy. But the rumours that Edward knocked her up and that's why they are getting married were bringing out the worse in you. You stand a good couple of feet away from other people as you sip on a glass of champagne you stole from an unattended table. It was your third glass already and you can feel the bubbles getting to your head, though that's the whole point of alcohol. You watch as Bella and Edward happily dance with each other. A smile spreads over your face at the sight of your careless sister.

"Enjoying yourself?" a voice asks. You turn to your left to face a boy. He's about your age, maybe a bit younger. The brown of his eyes is obviously fake but you keep your mouth shut about it. You nod at him. he holds his hand out and you shake it. "I'm Alec. I'm....a cousin of the Cullens," he says. You nod.

"Y/n Swan. Bella's my sister," you say while you point at her. A smile spreads over Alec's face. "You don't look alike," he says. You laugh as you nod. You and your sisters didn't even look like cousins or neighbours. His eyes dart down towards your champagne glass. You hold it up to offer him some but he shakes his head. Apparently fun didn't run in the Cullen family. "You're from Italy, right?" you ask before taking another sip from the bitter bubbles in your glass. Alec nods. He looks around him before pointing at a blond girl talking to Carlisle and Esme.

You follow his finger to look at the girl. She has the same young face as Alec. They look like brother and sister but that's probably only because he pointed it out. "That's Jane. We're twins," he says. You snort at him as you shake your head. "You don't look like twins more like...step-siblings, maybe," you say. Alec playfully swats your arm while he laughs. You two stay talking for what feels like hours. While he stays sober, you down another couple of glasses of champagne. When the night ends, you all gather at the driveway to wave Edward and Bella goodbye for their honeymoon. You're a bit too intoxicated to stand on your own and since Alec has been by your side since you met him, he's the unfortunate soul who has to keep you upright. You have one arm slung over his shoulder while you use the other to wave at your sister. You're head is resting against his shoulder while his arm is wrapped around your middle to keep you standing. You let out uncontrolled giggles and hiccups.

When Edward and Bella have finally driven off to their mystery honeymoon, you say your goodbyes to your parents. They both want to go home since Charlie is tired and Renee has a flight to catch in the morning. You and Alec stay around for a bit. You've moved from the crowded party to sitting on the opposite side of the house on the forest floor. The alcohol has loosened you up and given you a boost of confidence. Somewhere in the night, you had wrapped your arms around Alec. Now you two are sitting propped up against a tree while cuddling and stargazing. While Alec points at different constellations you are showering him with compliments while letting your fingertips trace of your cold skin.

You let your fingers run over his jaw while he's explaining the Orion belt. You turn his head so that he's now looking at you. His eyes stare into yours. You glance down at his lips. You want to, no, have to kiss him. You lay your other hand on his cheek as you pull him towards you, closing the gap between you by pressing your lips against his. You expect him to pull away but instead, he deepens the kiss. His hands roam over your body. You groan into the kiss.

Alec pushes you down slowly so that you're now laying on the forest floor. He hovers over you while continuing to kiss you. One of your hands lays flat on his chest while the other is on the back of his head playing with his hair. You lace your fingers through his soft locks and give them soft thugs, causing pleasure-filled groans to escape from Alec's throat. "Do you want to stop?" Alec asks as he moves to kiss you neck. You shake your head.

"No," you mutter. "Please don't stop.". Alec smiles against your skin as he moves up to place kisses onto your jawline. "And no, I'm not just saying that 'cuz I'm drunk," you say, beating Alec to his question. He lets out a laugh as he starts kissing you on your lips again. You push him lightly and he gets the hint letting you roll you two over so that you're on top. You straddle him while you continue to kiss him. Boy, were you in for a big night.

____ Pregnant. You stare blankly at the paper Carlisle handed you. You already took five tests at home but you wanted to be sure. When you're dealing with a vampire baby you can't be to curtain. You also couldn't go to a normal doctor so you opted to go to Carlisle instead. "I didn't know this was possible," he says softly. You nod at him.

Tears build in your eyes. From happiness. You are pregnant. There is something alive in you. You made life. From fear. There is a vampire baby in you. How is that even possible. Is it going to kill you? From anger. Alec had been ignoring you. You tried calling him but he hasn't answered any of your calls. Sure, it was a one night stand. But that little Dracula got your knocked up. "Can I...Am I going to die?" you ask Carlisle. You look up at him and his non-beating heart breaks at seeing your teary eyes. He lays a comforting hand on your shoulder as he shrugs.

"We don't know. We didn't even know this was possible," he says. Esme rushing into the room causing you and Carlisle to wipe your heads towards her. She has a phone in her hands. "Bella is also pregnant," she whispers. You scoff as you sink back in your seat. You finally let the tears fall from your eyes. They burn as they run down your cheeks. "The Swan's are back at it again," you say. "Getting knocked up by sad vampires.".

_____

It was weird being pregnant at the same time as your sister, though you had completely different views and experiences. Bella's baby was giving her hell. It was draining her. Killing her slowly. While you looked like a normal pregnant woman. Your skin is glowing as your hair is bouncier than normal. Some part in your hopes that it's because your baby is human and not a vampire. But you know that can only be a dream. You tried getting rid of it, or he, or she. Or whatever your child might be. But it was all much more difficult when you're dealing with a potentially immortal child.

You spent most of your time with Rosalie. She is delighted to have one, let alone two, pregnant woman in her life. She has always dreamt of having children of her own. And since Alec is still ghosting you after nine months now, you have talked to Rosalie a lot about how to raise your child. You have decided that if you make it out alive, you would raise your child together with her and Emmett. If not, she and Emmett would take care of your child. Rosalie is running her hands over your belly while discussing plans about a nursery while you hear a scream coming from the other side of the house. "I'll go look, stay here," Rosalie says before running to where the sound came from. Within a second, she's back. Her brows are furrowed as worry is written all over her face. "Bella's in labour," she pants.

You try to get up but Rosalie shakes her head and softly pushes you down. "You can't get up. It'll be too stressful for you and the baby.". You smile at her while you lay a hand on your stomach. "Rose, please. She's my sister," You say. "I want to see what I'm in for as well.". Rosalie nods as she helps you stand up. Your legs are wobbly but you still manage to slowly make your way over to the room Carlisle has prepared for labour. Alice rushes past you and out of the house with Jasper. Esme stops you and Rosalie from entering the room. You can hear your sister's pained yells coming from behind the doors. Esme shakes her head.

"You have to stay out, I'm sorry," she says. You nod. You understood. The Cullens grew very protective over you and Bella and they don't want to put either of your babies at risk. "I'll go get you when the baby is born," Esme promises. You thank her before shuffling back to the living room with Rosalie. You, her and Emmett sit there for hours while watching movies to block out Bella's screams. It hurts you to hear her in so much pain. Finally, after hours, Carlisle walks towards you. Blood covers his hands and part of his shirt. Emmett and Rosalie immediately tense up as the metallic scent of blood spread through the room.

"She didn't make it," Carlisle says. Your heart freezes. You grip the pillow laying next to you so hard you think it might explode. You're sister died. "Edward bit her. She'll change but it's going to take longer than normal.". She died. Your hearing cuts out. Your mind blocks everything out except for one thing. One fact. You're sister died. Silent tears start pouring down your cheeks as your shoulders start to shake. "I'm going to die too," you whisper. Carlisle's shoulders drop. Rosalie makes her way over to you and pulls you in for a hug, being careful with your baby bump. She calms you down as ugly sobs wreck through your body. Your sister died and you're next.

___

Pain. That's all you can feel. White, hot, searing pain that numbs everything else. You grip onto Emmett's hand as contractions wash through your body. You're so focussed on not passing out that you don't hear Carlisle telling you to push. Your body does it naturally though. You want this baby out of you. You want this pain to end.

For eight and a half hours, you've been in labour and now, it's finally over. With one final push, the pain is suddenly gone. The screaming of a baby fills the room. "It's a boy," Carlisle says. A boy. You have a wonderful baby boy. Rosalie immediately grabs ahold of your wrist. She would be the one to change you.

"Wait, I wanna...I wanna see him," you mumble. Carlisle walks over to your side and hands you your son. Thankfully, his eyes are a normal human colour, not red. He looks like his father. Same hair, same nose. You give him a quick kiss.

“Hello, Charlie Alec Swan," you mumble before handing him back to Carlisle. The moment the baby leaves your hands, Rosalie's teeth sink into your skin. The pain of the change combined with the longing pain of birth become too much for your body as you finally pass out.

___

Winter was here. You could feel it by the crispness of the air and the freezing night. It would only be a matter of days before the Volturi would arrive. You treasured every moment you got with your son. He wasn't growing as fast as Renesme was. While she was growing every day, your son was growing like a normal human baby. He hadn't shown any interest in blood either, giving you more and more hope that he was just a normal human baby. But you couldn't be sure until he got older. For now, you just spent all your time with him. He had just taken his first steps and was now crawling and walking all over the place. Luckily, you had two vampires to help you.

You and your son are enjoying some outside time. You're sitting moss-covered floor next to the Cullen's house, where you are now staying. Your dad knew about your pregnancy. You told him it was just the outcome of a one night stand, which was true. He was so happy when he learned that you had named your son after him. It did him good to have a grandson. One that didn't need to be covered up with a whole "adopting-our-cousin" story. Charlie runs over to you while laughing. He's gently holding a snail in his hands as he shows it to you. You look up at the sky when something cold hits your cheek. You soon realize that it's snowflakes. The cold, white flakes dart down from the sky. It's time. The Volturi are coming.

_____

You didn't want to be here. The plan was that you and your son were supposed to stay at home but you thought that it could be a good idea to come along. Since your son wasn't as vampire-like as Renesme is, it could be good to use that fact to convince the Volturi. You all patiently wait for the Volturi to arrive. You hold your son in your arms as you talk to him to keep him entertained. Sure, he could stand on his own, but you want to keep him close, just in case. With a loud whoosh, the Volturi arrives. They are with many more than you are. Aro's eyes dart over all of you, stopping at Bella, Edward and Renesme. He calls them forward and he checks to so if Renesme is human, which she partially is. The three of them walk back to you all. You think it's finally over but then Aro calls out to you.

"I see that Bella isn't the only Swan with child," He says as he points to you. He holds his hand out for you and you immediately understand what he wants. Rosalie goes to stand in front of you protectively but you place a hand on her shoulder and reassure her that it's fine. You walk over to Aro with your son still in your arms. When you reach Aro, you let him grab your hand. He giggles as he looks through your thoughts. "How are you still alive," he asks you as he stares intently at your child.

"We knew what to do for his birth," you say coldly. He giggles as he looks up at you. You nod at him for approval as he reaches out for your child. Charlie cries out in panic and hides his head against your shoulder. You shush him softly. "It's okay, it's okay," you whisper to him. Charlie still shakes his head. Aro retracts his hand. "It's alright, I don't want to upset the young Swan," he says with a disgusting smile. It causes waves of nausea to run through your stomach. "Where's the lucky father?" Aro asks. You quickly look behind him at Alec. He's staring at you and your child. He can see the resemblance between him and Charlie. "Right there," you whisper. Aro clasps his hands together in front of his chest. He takes a step aside.

Alec quickly walks closer to you. He now stands in front of you. " Is he..." he begins. He's too afraid of the answer to finish his sentence. You nod your head. You already know what he was going to ask. "His name is Charlie. Charlie Alec Swan," you say. A smile spreads over Alec's face at the name. He holds his hand out for Charlie. He wraps his small, chubby fingers around Alec's slender ones. A surprised gasp leaves Alec's mouth at the feeling of the child's skin.

"He's warm isn't he?" you say with a proud smile. Alec nods. "I'm sorry," he begins. "If I would've known....I would have helped. I'm such an asshole.". You shake your head. You lay one hand on top of his shoulder while using the other to support your child.

You give him a sympathetic smile. "You aren't an asshole," you say. Alec shakes his head but before he can disagree, you continue talking. "You didn't know. But you still can be a part of his life, if you want to.". Alec nods happily. "It would be an honour. I would be happy if all I could do was change his diapers. I'll do anything.". You laugh as you slap his chest playfully. You wrap your second arm back around your child. You look up at Alec. "Wanna hold him?" you ask. He nods happily as he opens his arms. You carefully hand him your child who immediately cuddles up against Alec. You giggle at the sight. "He likes you.".

Your moment is interrupted by Aro. "A family reunion," he says in a vomit-inducing tone. "Oh, how I love happy endings.", You pull Alec along with you to take a couple of steps away from Aro. You had forgotten about Aro and his vicious ways of keeping his guards at Volterra. You weren't going to leave Forks. You weren't going to leave your dad, your sister or the Cullens. Not even for Alec. Aro sees your defensiveness. "Of course, we'll let Alec stay with you," he quickly adds. "Right, brothers?".

Marcus and Caius both nod. "He needs to be there for the...baby," Caius says. A wash over release comes over you. You wrap your arm around Alec's middle as you look at your son. "Looks like there won't be a fight after all," Aro says. A content smile sits on Alec's lips as he watches his son in his arms. Maybe coming to the 'fight' was a good idea after all.

TWILIGHT TAGLIST (OPEN): @scuzmunkie @thanossexual @prettyinblack231 @kpopgirlbtssvt @cullens-stuff @thanossexual @jelly-fishy-babie @puer-de-infinitate @awesomebooklover17

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buttmuncher91 · 3 years

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a lot of advanceshippers love to say such bs about Drew even to this day. Drew is not my favorite character & it’s fine to prefer advanceshipping over contestshipping and I kinda like advanceshipping , but some of the things they say are ridiculous! This is not bashing on all advanceshippers or advanceshipping in general, this is just some quotes (not exact) I’ve seen that I’ve had problems with.

”Drew is a jerk! Ash would treat her right!“

Both would treat her just fine! Drew watches out for her & tells her when Harley is tricking her, saved her friends & brother when she was busy, saves her friends, cheers her up when she’s down, & they both calmly talk to each other when alone.

Besides, there are some things to point Ash being a jerk to her too! Ash yelled at her because he was butthurt he had no boat to get his next gym badge & skips out on watching some of her contest when May even watches him battle regular trainers.

And it’s not like May is an innocent angel herself. She yelled at Ash & Drew for no reason, had her torchic attack Ash, & forced Ash to agree to let her travel with him by bringing up her bike.

I know May & Ash have developed a lot sense than, but so has Drew & y’all are just stuck viewing him how he reacted at the beginning.

”May hates Drew & loves ash!“

She doesnt hate Drew. At the very worst, she sees him as a friend & has seen him that way by “Who, What, When, Where, Wynut.” Like I said we seen them talk a lot when they run into each other & heck, she even ditched the group, including Ash as he was talking to her, to talk to Drew when she saw Drew. So tell me again how she loves Ash way more than Drew lol!

And in ”Spontaneous Combustion“ May blushes at Drew after he waved and walked off. May never blushed around Ash, even when some weird couple accused her of being Ash’s lover. And there was nothing in that scene that indicates her getting red met something else. She wasn’t sick, doesn’t look mad, didn’t do anything embarrassing, etc... so it looks as if she really likes Drew.

”Drew is a flirts with any girl & would cheat on May, but Ash would never cheat on her!”

You people have nothing to back this up. Drew had fangirls gushing all over him? May being Norman‘s daughter and probably because she’s referred to as hoenn princess, has a lot of fanboys! In fact, Ash is more likely to cheat on May then Drew dispite him being oblivious, as Drew showed 0 interest in his fangirls & ran from them. If he was such a flirt, he wouldn’t run from fan girls, but would try & you know, FLIRT with them. Drew also showed 0 interest for other girls, & only teases May. You advanceshipper fanbrats (not saying all advanceshippers are fanbrats just the advanceshippers who think this) only pretend he is to make up reasons for May to reject Drew.

”He only likes May for her rack, & wouldn’t care for her if it was flat!“

Talk about reaching. Drew only stares at her FACE! He never stared at them, & the anime gave her chest 0 focus. He isn’t just some creeper. Despite not being interested in her, he treated Breanna nicely & she was flat. He may just have puppy love/a crush on her, but saying he’s just trying to win her because of her rack is complete bs!

”Think about it, Drew & May would make ugly babies!”

Based on what? Cuz Drew has green hair? As someone whose least favorite color is green (okay, okay dark/forest green is pretty), I think this is a stupid claim. Even with a weird hair color, there’s a chance the child could be cute, & really beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Hair color is NOT even close to a huge factor to what separates not ugly to ugly. And they don’t have to make babies if they do get together. They can just choose to adopt to help out those who need a home or just happily be with each other with no children at all.

”Drew is in less episodes with May than Ash, so advanceshipping is better & will be canon!”

🤦‍♀️Misty has the most screen time with ash. By this cruddy ”logic,” Misty & ash (so far) are canon. Yes, misty has much more screen time with ash than May. Misty had all of Kanto, Orange Islands, AND Jhoto with ash... as well as a cameo with ash in Hoenn, and TWO separate cameos in Alola. And at this point, May could have spent more time with Drew. It’s been 4 regions that Ash hasn’t even thought of 1 of her Pokémon after all this time. I’m no pokeshipper, but let’s be real here.

And most of the time Ash & May are on screen, it’s them focusing on their goals/Pokémon. They cheer & encourage each other too, but it’s mostly friendship stuff. Could something happen later on between them to spark love? Sure. But nothing in the anime ever pointed to that. And you can literally say that with Ash and... ANYONE! Like Ash could grow up, met back up with Roxie & they could fall for each other.

When Drew appears on screen, you mostly see hard evidence for contestshipping, weather on Drew’s side, May’s side, or both. Yes, there’s evidence on BOTH sides that they like each other. At best, advanceshipping looks one-sided on May’s side. And even then, it mostly looked that way in the beginning of AG. There’s way more evidence that May likes Drew & vice vesa than with ash & May, even with “less contestshipping hints!“ A lot of hints for shippings are overblown. Not just advanceshipping hints, but poke/pearl/negai(actually never mind, negai is under looked & over hated)/amour/etc... are over blown & it’s just ash being his usual nice/childish self. With Drew, it’s obvious he likes her as how he constantly stares at her, teases her, gives her red roses (& says they’re for beutifly), etc... While I think I covered how May likes Drew enough already. And yes, this could just be a kiddy crush for the both of them, but in the end there’s still harder evidence that Drew & May like each other.

Plus there are a lot of canon fictIonal couples who had less screen time with each other than other characters. Naruhina, ichihime, Hinny, gochi, etc...

“Drew never saves May’s life, unlike Ash!”

So? May never even tried to saved Ash, like she did with Drew!

Ash has also saved: Angie (who has a more confirmed crush on ash), Dawn, Pikachu (3x I can think of), Chinchar, Lillie (or at least attempts to help a lot of times), Celiebi, Erika’s Gloom, Serena, Misty’s sisters Pokémon, a ton of CotDs & their Pokémon...

And what of those who saved Ash? Misty, Sabrina’s... family photographer, Gary, Iris, Clemont’s father, Zeroara dude, a ton of officer jennys, Pikachu, a lapras, Paul, Drew (ya keep on hating him if it werent for him Ash Brock and Max would probably be dead in that crate Jessie, James & Meowth trapped them in so not even advanceshipping could happen).

“Rivals can’t be dating!”

Where did you get this bs? Even in the pokeani IN THE AG SERIES this has been proven false. Watch Pasificlog Jam again. Who put you in charge of how couples should work anyways? If a writer wants to have rivals hookup in their story, than they have that freedom to have the rivals hookup regardless how upset you get over it.

“Ash & May kissed in a banned episode, so advanceshipping is canon not contestshipping!”

Come on guys, they’re 10. The anime creators aren’t gonna have two 10 yr olds kiss on the lips. Its really creepy some person came up with this. No, it’s not creepy cuz I don’t like advaceshipping (I actually like some aspects of it). Again, it’s creepy because they’re 10. If they were like 13+ yrs old, it‘d be okay, but NOT 10. Plus, even Japan is very sensitive when having kissing on the lips happen with kid shows. Even with adults, they censor it/show something else as the kiss happens & just imply it happened. Expecally how they view kissing on the lips in the first place, they ain’t having 2 ten year olds kiss.

And there would be NOTHING to imply that they where going to kiss. Around this time this episode that they kissed claimed to happen (episode 357), Ash & co. where heading to fortree. Nothing ever was implied from the both of them even want to kiss each other. They just where supportive friends of each other with no hinting there where secret feelings or developing feelings from ether of them. Theres also nothing beyond that episode that implied the kiss happened. Because if it did actually happen, I’m sure something like that would impact the next few episodes, but nope no mention of any kiss nor do ash & May act any differently around each other in 358 and beyond. So even if it did happen, it was going to more than likely sink the ship, like it was some akaward thing they did because they were “under the mistletoe“ & afterwards just agreed to be friends & forget about it. The pokemon anime was always about friendship, adventure, and Pokemon themselves, never romance.

Also episode 357 is “Take This House and Shuppet!” not “A Kiss Under the Mistletoe!“ The Japanese episode is the same as the English barring names & episode number.

Were do you get such a sorce for this info? “my friend’s japanese friend who talked to the director of the AG anime & saw it!” or some other ridiculous unreliable garbage like that? Give me actual sources with interviews from the writers talking about this supposed banned episode. Bet you can’t, unless it’s fake & unreliable. If it existed, it would have floated up by someone from Japan. After All, even if for 20 mins that episode should’ve existed if it was just banned. Like “Electric Soldier Porygon” was banned completely & only aired one time in Japan. However, there are places that you can watch the episode despite it being completely banned due to putting a lot of children in the hospital from seizures. That was older than the supposed advanceshipping kiss episode as ’Electric Soldier Porygon’ is a Original Series episode in Kanto the 38th episode. No one can find this supposed advanceshipping episode nor is it even listed in the banned episode list. It should be harder to find this older banned episode than it should be to find this supposed banned kiss episode.

“Why should May choose Drew over Ash? Ash is like a literal god!”

What? Yes, he’s befriended every legendary & come back though poketears, save the world so many times, has arua abilities (he rarely uses), & whatever else, but it’s not like he seems that BA or whatever. Ash not aging seems over focused on, when in reality NO ONE is aging. It took him 7 regions to win 1 league (a questionable one at that), can’t remember Pokémon he seen before & sometimes forgets what he learned, & needs saved by others sometimes. Some god, can’t even rescue himself. Besides, who knows what Drew has done on his adventures. Drew has also saved Ash, Brock, & Max from trouble, isn’t Drew awesome saving someone ”like a god!”? Drew also has beat him in a battle as well, is that y’all’s problem?

And where is Ash’s voice in all this? It’s like this in all this anti-Drew bs. “Drew is just this terrible creature who possesses all 7 deadly sins & is the creation of Giratina & thus May hates & so does everyone else! However... blessed by Arceus himself, we all just know not dense Ash Ketchem is waiting to sweep May off her feet & save her from the demonic spawn that is Drew who is lusting after her bewbs😡” (<-original ideas, do not steal jkjk). Like there’s NOTHING to indicate ash wants her. And do you think this of May as well? Like do y‘all think May is just this perfect, sweetest, most divine woman in the pokeani that only Ash “blessed by Arceus“ is the only guy that should be blessed by such an angel? 🤣

Look, I like Ash & I like May. But even with my favorite characters I wouldn’t go as far as to think so highly of them that it makes Helga’s obsession with Arnold look like nothing. And just because Ash is more amazing with more feets & whatever, doesn’t mean May has to love ash or that Ash has to choose may because Drew doesn’t measure up to him.🤷‍♀️ Just think about it, should Timmy’s mom go with Dinkleburg? After all, he is smarter than Timmy’s dad, has more money & is more successful than he is. And Wandesemo is more popular, not stupid, & mostly competent unlike Casmo. Should Wanda dump Casmo for him? Of course i understand wanting the best person to end with you’re favorite character. But that’s not how love works & in the long run isn’t fair to both Ash & May (& Drew, but I know you haters don’t care about that).

#pokeani #Advanceshippers #contestshipping #Drew #Shuu #May #Haruka #Pokémon #Ash #Satoshi

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okay-victoria · 3 years

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Random Personal Rant

For anyone somehow here not from the original thread, this started off me getting asked what finishing school is and me getting shit off my chest that is only mildly relevant about how I could both be of the social class that gets sent to finishing school and grows up on welfare.

With an understanding that in many parts of the world it wouldn't qualify as so, as far as the US goes, my dad is from what counts as a very old money family from Baltimore & Philadelphia. Both his siblings went to college and one now owns a major hedge fund, and his sister is married to a C-level executive at a huge conglomerate. His parents went to college. His grandparents went to college. All eight of his great grandparents went to college. My dad...did not go to college. He was not about that life, and while I don't mean it as an insult, when I say his primary occupation until I was ~5 was a drummer in a mediocre band I mean that he opened for a lot of great acts, and if you lived in the Boston to Atlanta area in the 80s you may have heard him play, but he was never a huge national name. But he wasn't an amateur band playing for free at some random local gig either.

My mom grew up on a chicken farm in a Mennonite family in Pennsylvania but also completely rejected her heritage and became a model, sort of like my father, of mediocre status. Not Giselle Bundchen, but had national contracts and if you have a Graco ad/box from 1990-1993 you might see both me and her on it. They met because my mom's friends placed bets, one each, on who could sleep with a member of their favorite local band first and my mom picked my dad and...my mom was actually supposed to go be a model in Tokyo and found out she was pregnant with me and couldn't go 😂

So, after my parents had two kids back to back with a third on the way and determined they needed lifestyles more in line with having three children, they became much poorer than they originally were because my mom stopped working and my dad, with a barely-passed-high-school education but needing a true "day job" worked day labor in construction. My dad's father was too proud to give us money/help if my dad didn't beg for it; despite having eventually four young children my dad never did so we ended up on all the state assistance programs one could imagine. My grandma jokes that dinners at my parents house were BYOC - bring your own chair, because we didn't own any.

My mother and paternal grandmother had no such pride issues and I live in eternal gratitude that my welfare childhood was not as crappy as it should have been because my grandmother would have my mom accompany her on grocery runs and buy us food without my father or grandfather knowing, and every Christmas and birthday my grandparents/godparents could give us the one big ticket gift all the kids wanted that year. But, on the other side, I once got stung by a bee inside my mouth because my brother threw a hairbrush through a cracked window at me and broke it and we couldn't afford to fix it for about two years and a hornet got in one day and rested himself in my coke can (my parents were the very American type that fed me coca-cola in baby bottles at age 8 when I was jealous of my younger siblings lol).

It is hard not to believe in "toxic masculinity" when two men warring over dumbass pride issues would rather their children/grandchildren go without food than suck it up and decide 'help' isn't the worst word in the English language, and you know you've only been saved by two women who came from totally different backgrounds and entirely disapproved of each other but reached out the hand to shake when it came down to toddlers getting the short end of the don't-bend-the-knee stick. It wasn't that either of the men were bad people, I loved them both and got along great with both, but on a societal level I feel they were socialized in a very fucked up way if that was the end result, as both claimed "male pride" in these instances [my dad took multiple thousands of dollars I'd saved from working during college from me during the 2008-2010 financial crisis and didn't tell me and that was the reason I was given for why I hadn't been informed/asked, because it would be too emotionally difficult for an adult man to ask a young woman. My graduation present was them repaying me 1/3 of the money they'd taken from me without asking because I'd like, trusted them when it had been in a joint account that was a holdover from when I was <18 and couldn't have my own bank account].

While in some ways my parents on the surface achieved the American dream of going from nothing to a bunch of money, the real factor in play was that my dad's father was the bank. My parents had no credit and couldn't get real loans. My dad worked construction and during the two major periods that flipping houses was very lucrative, he never had to get an actual loan or pay actual interest, he just had to ask his father to pay out cash and then repay him at a flat 2% interest rate that didn't even accrue over time, just...whenever you are ready, repay the value of the loan + 2%. Because my father was doing something productive, in these instances, my grandfather was happy to pay, because it wasn't giving away money, it was loaning it. I had a very weird situation of mostly being poor but like also getting taken to the "big donors" events at the Kennedy Center and my grandparents regularly buying me a dress as a child worth more than my mom's wedding dress and also needing to pretend I fit in with these people.

And look. When I say "these people"...honestly, by and large, most wealthy people, whether inherited or not, are not the assholes you want to imagine. Most of them are extremely nice. Most of them are generous when it comes to the less fortunate who are in their personal sphere of being. Most of them are just really out of touch. The 100% kindest of all of them that I know once relayed to me that she thought people would be happier if once a year they did what she did...go to the airport with a purse packed full of absolute necessities, buy a one way ticket to the most appealing destination on the flight board, buy your clothes and book your accommodations after you'd arrived, and come back after you felt you'd 'centered' yourself. She didn't understand why there were so many unhappy people who weren't taking this very obvious route to being happier. I didn't quite know how to explain that saying "most" people couldn't afford to do that either financially or from a job/career angle didn't even cover it, as "most" sounds like 70% instead of 99.7%.

I was both my parents eldest son and eldest daughter in the worst combination possible. I was the eldest son because I was the most stereotypically male of all my siblings, in everything from desire to physically fight the battles I was given to dislike of shopping/fashion to lack of emotional connection to my relationships, so I can now fix your average household plumbing/drywall/electrical issue better than most "city" guys I interact with and remain less clingy to them in the process. I was also very much the oldest daughter from a responsibility perspective, I managed our household and from age 10 - 24 managed the finances of our family business, my mom almost died giving birth to my youngest brother after a ruptured uterus that should never have happened in the first place if we had adequate insurance to get her a non-emergency C-section (I was just past 9 years old at the time) and I was informally withdrawn from school for two years to take care of the family when she couldn't because there is no paid parental leave in the US and we got double-fucked by the medical industry because she got a bad "mesh" put in and then had to have a further surgery to repair that which we also had to pay for and didn't have the money to win a lawsuit over.

I don't know quite how to put this, but in the deepest fuck you of the universe, my rich-immigrant-ggggg grandfather's money led to him owning banks, insurance companies, etc, and the family cashed out in a big way when their ownership was bought by and merged with what is now Cigna, one of the biggest US healthcare insurers, and my nuclear family specifically got screwed by the American health insurance industry, but anyway, we were the people selected for that karmic comeuppance so if you want to feel schadenfreude at my expense, I'll allow it without begrudging the sentiment, my family might have fucked up your family’s life too, not just their own.

I got up twice a night to feed my brother because my dad had to sleep unmolested in my room to get to work and my mom was too weak to carry my brother or even hold him against her while she nursed so I had to hold him up to her. Adjusting to living in a city and hearing lots of random noises all the time was not easy when I'd had mom sound instincts from age 9.

I learned to drive the fall my youngest bro was born because my mom couldn't and I had to get my middle brother to preschool and go the grocery store on my own. While I hold absolutely no ill will towards my father or grandfather for this and given that about 1/3 of my paternal family either has an autism diagnosis or should, I fully feel the struggles they both went through to be communicated with, my father wouldn't ask for help, and my grandmother that lived 20 minutes away couldn't give enough help because my grandfather refused to do a single dish on his own as that was outside their "marriage contract" type agreement and she couldn't ever stay with us overnight when there wasn't a clearly-communicated need, so they let the burden fall on a 9 - 11 year old child and that really shaped a lot of my life in both good and bad ways. My youngest brother is 22, and we have only just climbed out of the medical debt his birth left us with between my dad's life insurance and my oldest brother and I paying for the extra cost of out-of-state college tuition.

The irony of all of this is that because my father died before his father, when my grandmother dies, my siblings and I will all inherit enough money (as a non-blood relative my mom, despite keeping her vows to part at death and not having remarried in eight years, is cut out entirely) to make this a non-issue, but my grandfather couldn't conscience spotting his unluckiest child some money in the end of days to pay for my youngest two brothers' education and take that worry off my father as he was dying. The day before he died I had to hold him down in bed to keep him from trying to climb in his truck to go to work because he was so anxious about trying to provide for us in spite of his father having fuck you money, because his father didn't think it was fair to the other siblings (who, at the time, still owned a major hedge fund and were married to a C-level executive of a huge conglomerate). A day and a half later I went back to my job because at the time I was then the sole provider for the family and didn't want to risk asking for the standard week's bereavement leave when I knew I was capable of showing up at work the next day and was fresh out of college so hadn't built up a reputation yet.

My father worked the day each of us was born, so I suppose it is only fair and he smiled at the choice. In spite of what it may seem, I gave a baller and very heartfelt speech at his funeral to all his rich friends that over and above everything, he'd taught us how to be happy with our own lives no matter what, and multiple of them emailed my mom in the aftermath to say they'd reassessed their relationship with their children in light of it, although...tbh I kind of doubt that lasted and they probably changed nothing 😅. The last good talk I had with him, two weeks before he died [his liver was going and it sent toxins to his brain that de-personed him after that and he no longer recognized me as his daughter, but as his sister], I reassured him that though we would all be sad he'd gone, we'd live on just fine without him because that's how he'd raised us, and according to my mom that was what gave him the final bit of peace he needed. Although honestly, I don't think I will ever see the strength in another human again that it took my grandmother to sit next to him and stroke his hand and tell him to close his eyes and imagine he was happy on a beach and die, for God's sake, because he was unaware and in pain and just prolonging it for our sake by then.

That type of obsession my grandfather had with assessing his children and grandchildren on the basis of economic productivity and a very black and white idea of "fair" is one you don't easily forget, I promise you. My hedge fund uncle is currently positioning himself to screw us out of our inheritance because of janky writing in the will and I'm doing my fuck all best to gain the wherewithal to go toe-to-toe with this cold motherfucker in court as the oldest and representative member of my happily much nicer and softer younger brothers who I want to remain that way not because I even care that much about the money, I know what bills affect your credit first and what you can put off paying and all of us have good enough career prospects to do our own thing, but just because I want to give the middle finger to a man that was a multi-millionaire and drew lines on his milk and orange juice bottles when I came over so he knew if I drank what my parents couldn't afford when I was approximately six. Anyway, ask me why I support major reforms in wealth taxation. I don't care who it goes to, just not that guy, you feel?

Having expendable income was very exciting for a bit after I started working but once I got to the hateable point of assessing my annual bonus and internally complaining that I'd spent the money I should have spent on a Sauternes cellar to drop five digits on bedset materials (to be fair they are drop dead gorgeous, very comfy and the factory pays a living wage for people to handmake the sheets/duvets/pillows to people in San Francisco, which is not cheap, so maybe I did more good than harm with that), I two seconds later nodded to myself and went "the government needs to confiscate more money from me". The narrative is always that the "undeserving" will use it for dumb things they don't need like iPhones or refrigerators...?...but like...I could also have gone to Bed Bath and Beyond and bought a very nice sheet/comforter set for at most a tenth of what I paid so am I really spending it responsibly either....?....who is going to get more joy out of this misspent money....?....not me, that is for sure, I probably would have had more fun going to BBB and laying on all the demo beds and buying something there.

My lifelong dream, which may become possible if/when I do have something of an inheritance, is to provide food security for one of the many towns in the US were most residents don't have it. It's the thing I remember the most distinctly over the years. I never could quite believe it when I got to the point that I could just...pay to eat at a restaurant. One of the most disappointed my mother has ever been in me is when I was twenty five and confessed I actually had no idea how much a gallon of milk cost in a city grocery store besides that it was probably between $1 and $5, because I didn't have to know. For now I make a weekly drop off of my excess produce to a mom group I met under somewhat weird circumstances but I was walking through the cut-through that went through the low-income housing back to my apartment at like 2 AM on a Saturday and these moms were out there partying and smoking weed with their kids all strapped in strollers around or the older ones watched by a rotating member of the group and I felt very safe and like these moms had a very good vibe of both living their own lives [seriously for mental health parents but in most cases specifically mothers need to be able to keep up relationships with people their age] but keeping their children safe and accounted for while doing so and trying their fuckin' best against all the odds to figure out how to make that happen when life had dealt them a shit hand.

...anyway, looping way back to the original question of what finishing school is, when I was almost done with middle school my dad had built a legit construction business that then very quickly took off because we lived in a commutable zip code to the now-rich-in-their-own-right people he went to high school with who trusted him to redo their homes. We eventually moved to that zip code but I stayed and commuted back to my old high school. But, i was a pretty wild kid which my father appreciated for a long while because I would follow him around on jobs and enjoy doing physical labor, but once I was mid-puberty and also he had to maybe show me to his high school friends that did not fly.

I snapped - not broke, snapped - my left thumb and my parents had to trap me like a wild animal to get me to go the hospital. Then I got a deep cut that partially injured a tendon in my leg and at eleven I tried to beat the shit out of my dad to prevent him from picking me up to strap me in the car and go to the hopsital. Next I got a deep splinter due to my eternal-barefoot tendencies and it wouldn't come out so got infected and I refused to go to the doctor [another weird back story but I was minorly sexually assaulted [[to be clear, not raped or anything big traumatic]] when I was eight and had to stay in hospital for a week and my parents couldn't be with me all the time so I have a permanent heebie-jeebie about going to the hospital, not true anxiety, I will go if I know I need to and I don't breathe heavy or anything, and I'm actually not permanently weirded out by sex or anything, just doctors in hospitals specifically I kind of unconsciously try to justify not needing to the extent I can rationalize it] and my dad was tired of my antics so he was like "fine if you don't go I will slice your foot in half with a Swiss Army knife to get it out" and I called his bluff and laid down on the floor, stuck my foot on his lap, and he didn't really know what to do when a barely fourteen year old girl called his bluff so my brothers watched in fascinated but horrified awe as I got my foot sliced open spectacularly so that the infection/splinter could come out and I didn't even make a sound out of spite despite it being quite painful to my recollection almost twenty years later.

They saw me cry from pain exactly one time when while trying to break up a fight between all three of them (it was over ice cream) I got pushed and my ankle got dislocated and what actually made me cry was snapping it back in place and they realized it was not a joke. These dumb assholes that I love have ragged on me for "skipping" chores the day after I was in the hospital because the day before that I had to spend 18 hours running Thanksgiving as a good sub-hostess like I didn't have a serious infection that needed treating and couldn't rest because none of them were up to any task beyond peeling potatoes.

After the Swiss Army knife incident, my dad's discussion of sending me to finishing school became real, which I knew when my mom made me take a walk with her and talked about it. Finishing school is like...etiquette school....? In ye olden day when finishing high school was not the norm for anyone, wealthy men finished high school and wealthy women often went to "finishing" school to have a combined education on being a proper lady but also being able to hold a decent conversation with your presumably-educated husband, so it wasn't entirely etiquette non-academic. It was more just like "what a rich man wants in a wife" school, which was sort of household management and knowing enough about cleaning/cooking to correct the staff if they fucked up, how to be a polite hostess, and how to not entirely bore him when you were alone together and had done your five minutes of sex or whatever so actually had to have a conversation. In modern times it has obviously expanded to be less bleak.

I said miss me with that, I can be a girl on my own, so I went full throttle into the girliest sport they offer in high school and ever since have gained the inestimable advantage of knowing how to also use femininity to my advantage, which I am very grateful to my parents for making me learn. It would be great if we lived in a world where that didn't count, but it did/still does, and they really set me up to operate in all the worlds.

It is weird for me to tell the story to Internet strangers because it's one of those things that makes your parents sound terrible and abusive in the general tone of the Internet nowadays, and while I support gender nonconforming children I don't remember my childhood or parents that way. But, I feel like the bits and pieces of my life I've given don't always make a ton of sense together without the context, so here it is, and in the end, I think a number of parts of it are areas where you can probably understand where it makes me have the opinions I do when I write.

Anyhoo, this makes my life sound far worse than it is, I actually have a great life and I am not unhappy with it at all and feel I was on the whole blessed with many more turns of luck than unluck, so, please, do not take this as a depressed artist rant, it is more like a rant of a very energetic person who rants about a lot of things all the time and didn’t need to come out but just did because the question was asked and the time was right with my life being in a bit of flux to think about how I got where I am and where I want to go and why.

Always remember no matter what problems it seems like I have, if I didn’t solve them on my 2 year round the world traveling hiatus I took from working, it’s my own fault, I definitely had the time and money to solve them and just chose not to.

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