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fluffywings13 · 5 months

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So a lil JJK something lol!

Keep in mind that Itadori is around 6 years old in this one and that's the reason for the childish nature he has.

Ler Sukuna, Lee Itadori

“And what game, my fiery little sprite, are we playing today?” Ordinarily Sukuna wouldn’t be caught dead treating a human, his Vessel or not, in such a familial manner. But this was no simple human, no typical Vessel, and he carried him back to his Throne secure and cared for in his arms. This is his Little One, not simply his far too young Vessel, Sukuna never fathered children and not for lack of the desire but for who would bed with him and carry to term and delivery willingly–even if one could birth half cursed children and survive–the notion that this is his son is not on the mind. But he can’t help the paternal nature their relationship began to take along the way. “What silliness do you desire this night?”

“Silly Smoochies!” Yuuji is far too elated at the ever kept promise of Friday nights post supper time has concluded and he’s returned to his room for the evening being their time to be silly and play together. “The kissy game!”

A rather tactile game, it was one of the boy’s most asked for playings between them, because he knew Sukuna wouldn’t deny him. He hasn’t denied him any of these rather touchy games in nearly an entire year. “Gotta lose the shirt then, cub, we’ve played this game before. You know the night shirts gotta go.” The boy shrieks with laughter as they whirl around dramatically, Curse body sharing with him falling back on the wide seat of his throne with an overdramatic flop, they’ve long since passed through any disdain for the other. “You gonna take care of that problem or am I gonna have to do the extra work in doing it for you?” Little Yuuji shrieks with even more giggles when fingers spider up his sides. “Gotta make your choice quick, little guy.”

Yuuji’s well aware of what’s going to happen next when he says– “You!” He lives for these times, for these moments, he never got to really have them with his own mama or papa. They got taken away from him by strangers he vaguely remembers certain random features of before they could really get along. Mama and papa had been fighting for a long while before they left forever, but they had just started getting along again, things were slowly starting to get better.

Then they were dead. He remembers seeing them. Their bodies. Crying. Wailing between them soaked in their blood screaming his demands to know why the strangers had hurt mama and papa so badly before he was dragged away.

That’s when he met Sukuna. Well, shortly after, there was a lot of pain. Even more pain. Abandonment that leads to even more aches and pains. Then he’s waking up in a strange place with a tall man standing above him.

Ryoumen Sukuna.

Sukuna never tried to replace papa, never once indicated he intended to do so, they had a distinct relationship in that they shared similar affections that a papa would to their son and a son would in return to their papa. But the Curse never took on the title of papa, not truly, he remained Sukuna and ‘Kuna, sometimes when Yuuji was in big deep trouble or the King was being a big mean tickle monster he’d become papa because he was weak to the term and the brat knew as such. But they knew where the other stood in each others lives and saw no reason to change or adjust accordingly.

Yuuji was an Orphan due to Unfortunate Circumstances that Sukuna knew the finer details of but refused to divulge and found his hand forced into action when the boy kept badgering about the matter to the point of a Tantrum. He’s not so Old Fashion to find all such childish outbursts needing to be met with harsh firm reprimand, Yuuji was young and has gone through far too much in such a short time leading to Tantrums to be expected of him, it had been when the boy had dared to have slapped him that he’d been promptly draped over his knee and his bottom felt the wrath of the real only true Parental Figure he had in his life for such a poorly made decision on his part.

“You want me to take care of the little shirt causing issues for your favorite of our games?” Of course, Sukuna knew that the request was going to be made before it was even said, he’s most happy to oblige as a benevolent Spirit. “What is it the elder brats are saying these days?” Yuuji squeals when long fingers crawl just under the hem of his nightshirt. “I understood the assignment.” Nails likes claws skitter up his sides slowly and the boy squees in a fit of giggles, the feeling like tickly bug legs creeping and crawling all over, it drives him crazy as it usually does. “You didn’t bring any nasty insects into my Domain, did you now, squirming like you are as if they’re crawling all over you.”

Tickly bugs work their way around his torso, keeping the child in absolute stitches, and then the night shirts torn off and the real desired silliness for their pre-scheduled Silly Time Night is to begin. Yuuji screams loudly when they roll over, the Curse settling him safely at his side, he’s laying completely on a soft duvet and the man’s kimono with Sukuna half rolled over with him.

If anyone, absolutely anyone, says anything about what the King Of Curses did next….

The adorable scamp wanted to play the game he so aptly entitled ‘Silly Smooches’ and who was he to deny his unspoken declared Prince Of Curses such a simple request from him. One word about the actions on his part that had the child at his wits end trying to declare which of the kisses ‘Kuna gives him he favors most as the King unashamedly burrows into that little left underarm with an undetermined number of kisses until he gets the answer to the inquiry that had been posed and it would be the last word that the fool ever spoke. He’s eaten plenty of humans in his lifetime so consistently pressing his lips to the little one’s little armpit is next to nothing on the level of what most others might consider to be of the upmost disgusting sort.

For inquiring minds, the most favored of Sukuna’s kisses, as spoken from the giggly breathless recipient of them himself. Those given to his lower tummy are the most favored of his kisses.

#ler!sukuna #jjk itadori #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #jujutsu sukuna #ticklish!itadori #ticklish yuuji #jjk tickle #jujutsu tickling #secretly soft sukuna

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muzzleroars · 10 months

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What if the Ferryman warms up to V1 quicker than they forgive Gabe so when the two have to fight something/someone the Ferryman's idols priortitise V1 for the blessing instead of Gabe. He would be so upset! Maybe they try to teach V1 to carve it's own idols (out of wood, they don't trust it with the real stuff)

How would the Ferryman warm up to V1 in the first place? Did they just want to figure out why Gabe fell for it in both senses of the word?

(reference to this!)

ANON YOUR MIND....i can absolutely see this being the case because the ferryman is in a very difficult and unique position with regards to these two. i went into detail in that previous ask on their issues with gabriel after his fall, but with v1, initially all they see is the machine that corrupted him. in some ways, they want to shift the blame entirely so they can preserve something of gabriel's image in their mind, but they come to know v1 for the exact reasons you say - they want to understand what happened. gabriel was a paragon, a luminous angel fully dedicated to god. how did v1, in a matter of hours, change his entire perspective, how did it not only turn him blasphemous but capture his love and affection as well? the ferryman by turns is insulted, angry, jealous, and the only way they can deal with that is to get to know and possibly understand v1 even if all they can feel for it at first is disgust.

the ferryman is guarded in approaching v1, a bit concerned for their own faith if it was able to so thoroughly shake gabriel's, but v1 is difficult to engage initially. it shows a mild curiosity before ignoring all of the ferryman's attempts at conversation, stark expression giving nothing away before it leaves to find better stimulation. of course. it's not made to be social, it doesn't seek out companionship nor prioritizes it in any fashion as a war machine. and while the ferryman can observe it, can begin to see behaviors they never expected to find in its curiosity and playfulness, it does nothing to answer their questions nor lessen their frustration with it. they have to engage with it on its terms, how gabriel must have when they met and when it changed him...and honestly the ferryman's anger has mounted long enough despite their uncanny ability to bottle their emotions. their challenge to v1 is the first time they see it respond fully to them, instantly drawing its weapons without moving to a more proper setting or even waiting for the word "go". it's not a complete surprise though, and the ferryman braces against it as they know implicitly that this machine must have defeated gabriel since that's the only way it would be standing now.

and as this is v1's true language, the ferryman finds themselves astounded by what it says: there is true art in its movements, boundless creativity guiding its whole body, a fervor that before they could only understand as religious but now put into battle. this is what gabriel saw, what he felt. so small but lightning fast, learning every second of the battle and adjusting, adjusting, tailoring all its movements, weapon choices, strategies to its opponent and its opponent alone. special-made, a battle just for two. how odd, feeling like you're the only one in the world when it locks onto you. and for v1, its interest in the ferryman takes hold when it sees how they fight, the strength and precision they manage despite appearing so frail and retiring. why didn't they show it this first? why waste time trying to talk? they can spark its need for physicality, a partner in battle that can hold its attention and make it work for its victory. v1 does end up battering the ferryman perhaps too much, but it stops when they fully yield and thank it for showing them just what they needed to see. they take the time to patch themselves up and think on what it showed them, wondering if that was enough to steal gabriel from heaven.

however...now they've attracted its attention lol v1 begins to investigate the ferryman, reversing their previous roles - they keep catching it out of the corner of their eye, scuttling around behind them, watching them with its brightly glowing optic that somehow looks much more inquisitive now. they start talking to it again to bring it closer, explaining the maintenance of their ship or singing low songs to it which it sometimes gives responses to with little electronic chirps. and despite knowing what it did to humanity, to hell, to gabriel, the ferryman was human once and well...there's an undeniable, deeply human pull toward a curious little robot. they begin to show it their artwork, how they paint and sculpt, absolutely handing over the tools to v1 at some point to watch it roughly carve the most rudimentary little figures of things its seen, people it knows. slowly it grows on the ferryman, watching the passion it approaches everything with, how it's impatient but how it delights in novel experiences, how brightly intelligent it is, far beyond the ferryman's capabilities in many things...despite everything about it that should be to the contrary, it's charming in its own ways. made by humanity, but not human, not fair to condemn by the same measures. the ferryman, religious as they are, does not believe that it can necessarily be held accountable with how it is removed from god - sinful men made this, and it had no say in its purpose.

this moral reasoning is what breaks down the barrier between them and ultimately leads to the idol problem. while gabriel knows by then that v1 has taken an interest in the ferryman, he doesn't understand how it's reciprocated until v1 is blessed by an idol to both of their shock. v1 adjusts quickly to it - invincible, unstoppable!!!! it can perform all the most ridiculous tricks, the ones it's only simulated (to poor results) because nothing can touch it!!! it cleans up the rest of the battle single-handedly as gabriel stays rooted to the spot, only moved when he's rudely checked by an enemy as if only to remind him he doesn't have the privileges v1 currently does. and i think this is point at which gabriel comes to really understand how hurt he is by the ferryman's rejection, how he felt so secured and entitled to their devotion that he believed the ferryman would totally forgive him if given enough time...but this shows how badly wounded their relationship is, how terribly hurt the ferryman has been in a way gabriel should have known. his natural emotionality wants to lash out but he knows he must control it, the feeling selfish and unfair to the ferryman or to v1 - instead he needs some time to self-reflect, to deconstruct even more of that angelic self-righteousness he still carries, and find it in him to truly be humble if he wants to mend this rift (which he has time for, as v1 is arguing with the terminal that THOSE POINTS COUNT. GIVE ME MY POINTS!!!!! and the terminal REFUSES to cash out bc v1 essentially used cheat codes)

#the argument lasts for hours and the terminal wins #though v1 puts a 'kick me' sign on it as revenge. asshole!!!!#ANYWAYS....LONG AGAIN but there was a lot to go through here #this fully makes gabriel face he is no longer a being meant to be worshiped in a very literal way #and it does make him realize how he still on some level felt above others despite his position #(he does feel a little vindicated by the terminal's decision tho)#(aw you didn't get your p? :( that's too bad honey your tricks were so cool :( <- lying)#cake answers #v1 #ferryman #fallen gabriel #rise and fall au

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shreddiman · 1 year

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OHHH!! yall aint ready for this!

I WROTE A ONE-SHOT >:D

Care

Sebastian x M!Reader

!conext¡ the skull mines are my enemy and i wrote this based off that! this is my first real one-shot, so id love any feed back! ENJOY <3

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I woke to the white light of Harvey's Clinic. Worried murmurs were muffled from outside the room as my eyes adjusted to the blinding light.

I knew what happened, and though I was covered in bandages the only thing hurting was my ego. Shame and embarrassment suffocated me, and it only got worse when Harvey walked into the room, Maru at his side.

My face paled at that and I kept my head down as I stared at my lap. I was about to get lectured, again, and in front of her no less.

And for the record, no. I dont have a crush on her. Even her dad had assumed it, giving me the old fashion "stay away from my daughter" threat talk. I was tempted to tell the man I was gay, but when gossiping to Maru about her dads many issues, she was thankful i hadnt.

adding that to the list. . .

"Y/N! oh thank goodness you are awake, it took you longer this time round. You werent holding out on me now, were you?"

Maru gave a look as I glanced up, my silence caused a flicker of frustration across her face as she crossed her arms over her chest. My mouth formed a thin line as I looked back down at my lap.

"Hm, 'This time around'? What do you mean by that Harvey?" Her voice was sweet, but I can tell without looking there was a bitterness in her tone. All those times I bumped into Sebastian, Robin.. hell maybe even Demetrius, her father, and lied to them about my state of health? Well the cats of the bag now.

"Oh you dont know? This kids a wreck! Goes out to the mines, comes back half dead," Harvey turns to me, a stern look on his face that I catch a glimpse of as he sits down on his stool.

"Listen kiddo, I dont know what Im going to do with you. You really gotta be more careful. Let me do one last check and then Ill send you on your way, alright?" He bent down a bit to catch my eye, I reluctantly nodded and laid back to allow the doctor to do his thing.

It was raining, and it only dampened my mood. I was aching all over, the pain medication Harvey had give me for the time being a weight in my hand as I shoved them into my pocket.

It was still early, and with so much time in the day it felt useless to go home and rest.

The walk to the beach was short, my mind elsewhere as my body moved on basically auto pilot.

The change from wet sand to slippery wood is what caught my attention, and I nearly missed the figure standing at the end of the dock. Sebastian was there, hair damp and flat as his cloths looked darker than usual from the rain. He mustve been out there for awhile.

Thinking about it, one of the first days I had moved here, I found him sitting in nearly the same spot. He talked about how weirdly calming it was, even in the unforgiving downpour. At first, I had laughed at the thought. Being cold and alone in the rain? I couldnt see how thatd bring comfort at all.

Yet, here I was.

I hadnt even said anything, approaching his side as I sat down on the wet wood. I felt his eyes on me, but the feeling grew more intense as I suddenly felt my arm being tugged. I whipped my head toward him in surprise, seeing his concerned expression as he examined my wounds. I felt my embarrassment return.

"What the hell happened to you?" He asked, looking up from my bandages, that were starting to fall apart from the rain, and at me. I wanted to look away from his gaze, feeling shameful but the stern look he gave made me feel like a kid who had gotten caught.

"..Mines. I wasnt as careful as I shouldve been." I say, blankly. I doubt that no matter how sorry I was, he'd be off the wall upset that I had lied to him. I just didnt want anyone to worry about me, I didnt want to think about how difficult it would be to explain the concept of this stupid game I was playing with life.

He dropped my arm, a look of slight betrayal on his face. Taking a deep breath he slumped down beside me, his arms crossed over his chest. Just like his sister, heh.

There was silence for awhile, the rain filling in the gaps of unspoken words. I knew Sebastian wanted to be angry with me, maybe he felt since I was physically injured he'd spare my feelings.

"I wish you wouldve told me, how dangerous it was."

Spoke too soon.

"I know, Im sorry. Your sister gave me the dirtiest of looks when she saw me at Harvey's." I gave a weak chuckle, even with the gray sky's I had hopped to lighten the situation, if only a little.

The lack of reply made me feel uncomfortable, so I continued to ramble on,

"I didnt want people worrying over me. I know thats terrible to say, and impossible to wish for- we're humans, it's natural to worry, to"

I paused, almost as if my own words were surprising me.

"to... care."

I held my arms out in front of me, seeing the damage done beneath the bloodied bandages. The image before me getting blurry as my eyes filled with tears. I opened my mouth to speak, but I wasnt sure I trusted my voice.

"I didnt think.. people cared about me that way. Hell I, I think Im afraid of it. Of people caring. Maybe, I dont deserve it,?" I basically whispered my confession, my shame coming back to hit me 10x harder when I saw Sebastian stand.

This was it, this was the crushing reality I had been waiting for. I wouldnt shut up, and now I made him uncomfortable. Maybe I can understand why Shane prefers his drunken'd state.

All that doubt washed away as Sebastians hand came into view.

"Cmon, lets get out of the rain. Youre starting to shiver."

I was shocked, but obeyed regardless. Taking his hand he pulled me up, wrapping his arm around me to hold me close. I felt the color return to my face, he was out in the rain for as long as me, if not longer and he still radiated off heat like he was a mini heater.

It wasnt long till we reached his house and walked down to his room.

"Stay there."

He stopped me outside his door. Before I could ask why, a clean pair of cloths was presented in front of me, "Bathrooms upstairs to the left, past the kitchen. Change into those and come back when youre done."

I stared at him in disbelief. I wanted to ask so many questions, but all I could muster was a soft,

"Why?"

He stared for a moment, a soft smile stretching across his face as he placed a hand on top of my head.

"Because I care."

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aggressively exists, vibrates, kicks legs!!

SO, did you enjoy it :)? im lowkey very happy with it but ngl i barely do this good at writing so dont expect a part two 💀

(unless you ask nicely..maybe)

ANYWAY THANKS BYE LOVE YOU MWAH

#sdv sebastian #oneshot #fanfiction #stardew fanfic #stardew valley #male reader #x reader #sebastian x reader #sebastian x farmer #im feral for the emo

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goddesssin111 · 2 years

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FOR EVERYONE WHO WANTS TO KNOW “WHEN DOES THIS GET EASIER”

As someone who has been consciously working on ignoring the 3D and believing what I decide will be true instead of what appears to be true for over 2 decades, I want to answer this question honestly. It gets easier the same way anything gets easier: with practice. You have to actually do the work. What this means is, that when you get into that ideal mental state where you just *know* that you're going to get everything you want, you stay there. You don't let the events of the 3D world knock you off from that. How? BY NOT LETTING THE 3D KNOCK YOU DOWN. There's no easy 3 step process. You have to get control of yourself. You see something that seems bad. Right now your mind is just a wild stallion bucking like crazy instantly. You have to WORK to get that stallion under control. You catch the thoughts, and the reactions as they are happening. You talk yourself down. You remind yourself that you don't know what things in the 3D mean in terms of your manifestation. You sit through some nasty emotions without opening your mouth and letting someone have it. You sit through some anxiety and fear without making any decisions, or wildly veering off course mentally. You let it pass.

You feed yourself empowering thoughts. You tell yourself that you can handle anything. You remind yourself that you MUST HAVE FAITH. You slipped and freaked out for a minute/hour/day? YOU CATCH YOURSELF AND STOP. And you do it again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. You never stop. You change this about yourself. It's vital to this entire thing. YOU CAN DO IT.

You commit to this - getting control over your mind. IT IS THE ONLY WAY. When you choose to start the work of getting your mind under control is up to you. But if you don't, your life will continue in the fashion it has up until now. Maybe at first you're successful 1 out of 20 times. It doesn't matter. You have to persevere. The other option is giving up. And some people will have to give up and have their lives get worse before they figure out that giving up doesn't lead anywhere good. I didn't stop giving up and hiding from the world and having to dig myself out of messes until I was 30. It gets easier when you truly accept that it's never the answer. No one ever truly comes to save you. The world doesn't stop spinning. You end up in a worse position. Eventually it stops being an option. That makes doing the difficult work of changing your mind a little easier.

It will be easier for some than others. Personally, I hit the ground running in some areas and didn't get around to cleaning up my mind in other areas until 5 years ago. There were long breaks in there. It's like training your body. Some parts are easier than others and it's not a one and done. It's an ongoing process that continues throughout your life and it'll be individual to you personally.

Another tool Neville gave you is revision. Catch yourself and revise. You don't have to do it at the end of the day, or after something seemingly irreparable has already happened. Excuse yourself if you need to, go somewhere quiet and revise what just happened. Do this over and over. Every time your mind starts going to the dark place because some event just happened. THIS WILL BECOME A HABIT. It will eventually become second nature to you.

Support from others is great, but it's also a bandaid. It's others comforting and encouraging you when you need to develop the skill of comforting and encouraging yourself. For some people this is very difficult (I am/was one of them). The real magic happens when you start being mentally self-sufficient and there is no better time to start exercising that muscle than right now. No one can do it for you, no amount of tips/tricks/techniques can do it for you. You catch yourself reacting, you pause, you keep your mouth shut, you keep your hands to yourself, you don't make any decisions, you don't take any actions, you breathe and calm down, find the words to go right back to where you were before this "event" - that half the time turns out to be nothing of significance - happened. And you keep doing it until you catch it faster and faster and eventually you no longer find yourself having long drawn out reactions that derail you and ruin your entire day/night/week/month - this is what "detachment" is in this context - which is a reward in and of itself, regardless of if it gets you your manifestation faster.

If this post is for you you will know it, I hope it helped you.

"The purpose of practicing detachment is to separate us from our present reactions to life and attach us to our aim in life. This inner separation must be developed by practice. At first we seem to have no power to separate ourselves from undesirable inner states, simply because we have always taken every mood, every reaction, as natural and have become identified with them. When we have no idea that our reactions are only states of consciousness from which it is possible to separate ourselves, we go round and round in the same circle of problems - not seeing them as inner states but as outer situations. We practice detachment, or inner separation, that we may escape from the circle of our habitual reactions to life. That is why we must formulate an aim and constantly notice ourselves in regard to that aim." — Neville Goddard

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astrxlfinale · 9 days

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Why can it never be truly placed? Where each movement, appropriate jab to the fleeting style of her voice sitting on the crevice of monotony to lively glimmers just-- brought something back.

An experience gained but never truly happened all the same. It fell upon that border that likely danced a fine line between the mortal realm and Aeonic realities.

Nonetheless would he grip that sensation with a spiritual hand, steel clad in the way it's held.

Caelus would watch as her figure danced with grace that seems to detach from this land fashioned by dreams. Coasting by reality, delving to that hidden beyond as ivory and briefly dashes with violet fury, a decisive fate runs red amidst the applause of sparking limbs cleaved. Even as the cascading rain of glass fell all around them, seamlessly devoured by his aura imposed by The Destruction, it'd be that amused thought that's noted by Acheron that makes his nostrils immediately flare. A tinge of disbelief at that damnably cocky note she made.

"Get real. ...." An amused scoff follows, a hidden history of camaraderie momentarily flourishing. "Penacony has been a little lacking in entertainment. If I'm bringing along some company, naturally I'm going to pick up that slack twofold wit'cha." He adds in. Could what they share be an illustrious and envied 'meal' for what crawls from the shadows? A bastardization in many degrees from snazzy figures and automatons purposed to bring a dazzling gleam. What veils them like twisted shawls was a need to drag any and all into their nightmares.

To tear souls from bodies.

Just as another figure ripped from the shadows, a violet die being cast with their foul face, the path that Caelus blazes would burn gold as he's immediately by her side. A cerulean current dances by his side, an apt swing of that infamous bat solidified their entire being to a fate of being atomized, well before that burst of remnant energy crashed into a nearby wall. That would be the provocation that introduced a swath of the Dreamjolts. Hints of that crystalized violet, raging and volatile emotions clinging to their figures as a pale light sighs into their surroundings as they remain back to back.

"Manage. Be a little more honest, all these 'What ifs' are getting a touch more motivated. Come what may."

Infuriated by the promise of a future that nightmares could never claim, it lead the horde to immediately jumped them in a singular swoop of motion.

"We'll be having our time out here!"

Gnashing reptilian teeth, sound waves, to dream charged bombs of glass soda bottles being launched as missiles, for anyone else this fate would look perilous. Yet, what hums contently within the Trailblazer is a leveled calm that bonds seamlessly with his ferocity. One hand would lash out, snagging one of those bottles before violently changing it's course, using the abrupt momentum to uppercut the cooking reptile intending to take a bite out of his companion. Fizzy determination would rocket him skyward, leading to a Shoryuken-esque uppercut that sent it barreling at supersonic speeds to some airborne opponents.

Only then would he alter course, allowing his bat to viciously swat away some surrounding blasts, the altered course of a freefall charging that excitement as they'd become blurs upon the battlefield. Amidst this whole debacle, he still kept an eagle eye on Acheron's performance.

"How about you stop holding back a little bit! Since when were you a sweetheart to your enemies!?" As if he could talk right now!

Basking in the chaotic dance of combat by the Galaxy Ranger's side also felt so blissfully, painfully familiar.

@iceiclehorned from X

#iceiclehorned #| Threads #JUST U WAIT #I'ma think up a tag myself!#in the meantime #They got got a performance to make due with

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discountalien-pancake · 1 year

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Kay i have rainboxed and i have half a spoon and that’s gonna have to be enough, so if you spot any typos, no you didn’t. Let’s get on with it. Body talk under the cut, as usual. Here’s why spanx is evil and needs to die.

Modern elastic shapewear is the underwear equivalent of “no make-up makeup.” It, at its core, is about trying to look “naturally” slimmer. It is enforcing the ideal of a body with no lumps or bumps or fat rolls, but more importantly it is reinforcing the idea that that is how your actual flesh and blood body is supposed to look. Which is never going to happen! It is making you chase after an impossible ideal while making you feel bad for being unable to achieve it! Elastic shapewear is evil because it makes you feel guilty about not having the “right” body for what you want to wear.

Elastic shapewear makes you feel like a failure for not being able to naturally maintain a certain shape through diet and exercise. They are literally guilt-tripping you constantly. I fucking mean it when I say shapewear is evil.

The reason this isn’t a problem with historical corsets is that the point of a corset was not to look natural. A point of a corset is openly acknowledged artifice. It’s fake and it’s not pretending to be real. It’s not trying to convince you that that is how your real, actual, flesh and blood body is supposed to look. The shape of the clothes going over it is the shape of the corset, and not the shape of your body. The shape of the corset and the clothes is what was fashionable, and not the shape of your fucking fleshpuppet body. I’m going to keep repeating this because it’s important!!

Putting on a corset was like putting on a pair of shoes. No, that’s not the real actual shape of your foot, and it’s not trying to be! You were not expected to have the perfect body. You were not expected to physically look like a mannequin. Clothes were not designed with the expectation of the wearers being human coat-hangers. Shapes came and went out of fashion, but they were silhouettes and not sizes.

A lot of women and fem-presenting people talked about how covid changed their relationship with makeup, because they spent so much time with their faces covered by masks. No one could see your face, and so it didn’t matter what your face looked like under it. The fact that it was socially acceptable to hide your face was so freeing for so many people.

But shapewear does the literal fucking opposite of that. It is worn with the premise that your body is flawed and needs to be corrected so that when you wear these tight, clingy modern clothes that show every lump of your figure, you look effortlessly skinny and lump-free. It’s just as artificial as corsetry, but the catch is that you’re expected to actually look like that. It’s fake that should be real, according to society. And if you don’t look like that, it’s because you aren’t working hard enough, so why don’t you shove your defective fleshpuppet into this horrible thing so you can trick people into thinking you’re not a failure of a human being (heavy sarcasm)? It’s horrifying that this is the mindset that pervades society without most people ever consciously realizing it.

In an ideal world, we would stop caring about whether someone has fat rolls or if their stomach bulges when they sit down. In this imperfect world, where people spend way too much time staring at each other and judging other people for their perceived “life choices”… shapewear is just evil. It is a “solution” to a “problem” that doesn’t exist and only makes you feel worse for failing a test that is rigged.

#pancake talks textiles #kind of.#corsetry #idk how coherent this is #it’s late and im tired and also angry and annoyed #and i am feeling rage towards diet culture and modern fashion #i just want spanx to burn in hell #the whole shapewear industry is just making money off of making women and fems feel more insecure about their bodies

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blissmontage · 5 months

Note

🌹

I'm thinking of you laying there on the bed of a dimly lit room, in your flirty little skirt just waiting for someone to take you.

I start slowly getting closer to you starring you down, letting you know just how bad I want you. You start to feel the tension in the room escalating and I can hear your breathing pattern changing. I’m now just next to you, I start softly running my hand up the inside of your leg, inner thigh all the way to your stomach. I pause, take a glimpse at you, I want to see how you’re reacting to my touch. We briefly lock eyes and that’s my signal, your insistant lustful gaze has betrayed you. You haven’t uttered a single word but your body has now made it clear, you’re enjoying this moment and you sure as hell don’t want this to stop.

So I pick up where I left at, I start to run my hand on your body once more reaching for your hips, I lean my head closer to yours, gaze at your face for awhile. I slowly run my other hand trough your hair, down your neck and shoulder. Your skin feels so soft. I decide to play with the strap of your bra for a while, trying to figure out if I should take it off just now, as I push your strap to the side of your shoulder. And in that moment, as I begin to undress you, you start to feel particularly vulnerable, the intimacy of the moment is very shooting, isn’t it.

As I make my way up your upper back with my hand, you start to blush, your cheeks are turning red and you are submerged by a wave of burning desire, and you probably haven’t even noticed but your hips instinctively moved closer to me.

I have you stand up for me as I begin to wonder just how to dispose of you.

Should I start by making my way up, slowly grazing the exterior of your of thighs with the back of my hand ?

Or perhaps I should start by standing firmly in front of you, pinning you up against the wall, staring you right in the eyes.

Yeah.. I like the sound of that.

So I get real close to you, you start to take a step back. I keeptrying to get closer and you match my pace, for every step forward I take you take one backwards. Our eyes are locked and you start to grin because you know what’s coming next, it’s almost like we’re dancing really. But now I have you cornered, your back’s against the wall. So I lean in real close to you, guide your arms above your head, let out a couple of warm heavy breathes onto your neck.

You have me seduced, I can barely contain myself. Having you there hands up against the wall, it’s a bliss but you realize there's no going back. It's just you and me baby girl, in that moment you become entirely mine.

I have you spread your legs open for me, just a little bit.

I’m taking my time with you, contemplating that beautiful body of yours.

You're eye candy to me, and I'd make sure you know that by the way I looked at you. Let you know how every single one of your curves draws me just a little bit closer to the edge.

..I’m thinking about just how hard it is for me to contain myself, but you're worth it, I want to take all the time in the world for you.

I take your cheek in the palm of my hand and slowly move my lips closer to yours, only to deny you of that kiss at the last moment and get close to your ear.

Whisper something along the lines of

"you know.. I'm really enjoying this. Knowing that you're mine to take. Having your body under my control, all of you, at the mercy of my touch. Yeah that's right, I want you to surrender your body to me, surrender to my touch, precious. »

Of course I'd have started to run my fingers around the string of your panties, playing around with them, teasing you.

…Should I push them aside and reach for the promised land like your body is begging me to do ? Or should I continue to tease you and just pull your panties upward just a bit, have them spread your lips open for me..?

I'm honestly curious what is going on in your head that you thought sending me this was a good idea in any form or fashion? The sheer effort that this must have taken you is honestly has my hackles up. Being objectified in your delusional fantasy isn't a compliment. It just gives off the vibe that you are daydreaming about turning my skin into a lampshade.

#asks #blocklist #like this is embarrassing #you should be embarrased

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destinyc1020 · 2 years

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Tbf I see some of the other TZ blogs I normally love, casting shade on anyone who they think remotely poses a 'threat' to T or Z's exclusive supremacy, anyone remotely in their orbit and white. That means shading Austin, Sydney, Timmy, Maude, JE, even Jake G, Jennifer Aniston, Reese, whoever doesn't align with the orthodoxy of Tomdaya Supremacy. A lot of it is quite hypocritical because they body shame e.g. Sydney and say she's using her boobs to get ahead, but Z's tactics for rising to fame (showing up everywhere, using her figure and fashion) were somehow aceptable while's Sydney's strategy is not? To me they are exactly the same.

The only actresses they consider as non-threats and acceptable are Florence (although that is about to change now that she's single and in a movie with Z) and Amanda.

Mmm....I'm not sure which Tomdaya blogs you're referring to Anon lol, and I haven't even seen any other TZ blogs mentioning/discussing these other people, but ummm.... I'll just take your word about that I guess??

LOL at "Orthodoxy of Tomdaya Supremacy" 😅🤣

***Take a seat Anon, because this is gonna be long....

Anyway..... Did it ever occur to you that maybe some blogs just don't like those other actors/actresses (for WHATEVER reason) and it has absolutely nothing to do with Tomdaya/or Tom and Zendaya at all? 🤷 Just a thought....

RE: JE... I think most people probably dislike him mainly for the fact that it's pretty clear that he did Z wrong, he seems to have done MANY girls wrong in the past, and his personality in general just isn't all that likeable (no offense). 👀 I don't know the guy personally, so obviously I can't really speak to how he truly is lol, but he low-key comes across as a douche... Just being honest! He poses and models in his underwear (which, hey...no judgement there!), but then goes and complains about how he HATES being considered a sexy heart throb, and complains about not getting good roles that are on his talent level. Like, okay??? You can't have it both ways lol. He also bad-mouths his previous filming projects (especially TKB) ALL the time in interviews.

RE: Sydney... Some fans don't trust Sydney because she was liking thirst tweets about Tom when she works with Zendaya who she KNOWS at least dated the man at some point in the past... It was just sus. (REAL TALK) Yet again, with Sydney.... She's another one.... She poses half naked all the time, takes off all of her clothes for her films (again, NO judgement!), but then complains that she's not being taken seriously as an actress. 👀

Look, if you're gonna go nude, fully embrace it! It's a CHOICE. No judgment. But then to do that and then complain that you're seen as a sex kitten.... Idk... Seems kind of contradictory to me.

You can't even compare Sydney and Zendaya. Zendaya doesn't go nude for her roles, and even if she did, she hasn't been complaining about not getting good roles or being seen as a serious actress for doing so. Z was hustling to get noticed early on in her career, but I don't ever recall her complaining about it. And Timmy?? Who's threatened by Timmy??😅 If anything, it seems some fans are foaming at the mouth wanting a Timdaya romance lol.😅🤣 Most fans know that Timmy and Z are just buddies and are cool with that.

And these other people you mentioned....Jennifer Aniston??Reese? What?? Like, which blogs are hating on Jennifer and Reese?? Are you sure these people aren't just sharing their opinions about actors/actresses and this has nothing to do with TZ at all? I don't even see why Jennifer's name was mentioned lol. She's not even in Tomdaya's age bracket lol 😅 Where are you getting this info from?

Besides... RE: Sydney and Florence.... If you want to know why perhaps some Tomdaya fans aren't gushing over them, then you might want to blame that on Tomdaya ANTIS who have been trying to cram Sydney and Florence down our throats for years as being the women that Tom will one day leave Zendaya for.... (which is even laughable to even consider 🙄). So if some Tomdaya fans aren't really "fans" of Sydney and Florence, then maybe that's why? Some antis try to push any white girl as being a "match" for Tom, even when it doesn't make ANY sense whatsoever, and it's also very disrespectful to Tom and Zendaya and their relationship. So, blame the Antis for that one Anon. That might also be why SOME (notice I said some) Tomdaya fans don't care for Timmy either. So many antis and Timdaya shippers trying to cram Timmy down our throats claiming that Zendaya is going to cheat on Tom with Timmy (again...LAUGHABLE 🙄).

So, blame the Antis for that one anon lol. 😅

ANYWAY....

As I've already said here before, I'm not "threatened" by anybody.... I feel like there's more than enough room in Hollywood for a LOT of actors (and actresses) to be GREAT. 😊 I like a LOT of various actors and actresses in Hollywood for various reasons (as I'm sure you all have noticed), so there's nobody who I feel "threatened" by, nor do I feel the need to hate on other actors/actresses just to raise Tom and Zendaya up. To me that's silly. 🙄 TZ aren't the only actors or actresses in Hollywood that I like in other words. I just appreciate a LOT of people's work (I'm a huge movie fanatic after all), and I'll give credit where credit is due. Plain and simple. 🤷 I only give my honest opinions here on my blog...as I've stated time and time again. 😊 Nobody has to agree, but one thing I'm always going to be is HONEST about what I feel. Now, granted, how I feel about a certain matter may not be the reality of what's going on, but I'm always brutally honest about my thoughts/feelings about a particular actor/actress.

I'm not even a "Tomdaya Blog". I've mentioned before that I'm not a Tomdaya blog. Tomdaya is nowhere in my blog title lol. 😅 I blog (and reblog) about anything that I find interesting. Tom and Zendaya are just a large part of that, but I also have interests in other actors/actresses/films etc as well! 🤷

Like I said, I can't speak to other blogs....And I hate when blind claims are made without even so much as a link for proof so that I can see what is being referred to.... ��

But overall, everyone is entitled to their own opinions on their OWN blogs... Plain and simple. 🤷 It's their right to post whatever they want on the blog that THEY own. If you don't like it, then maybe take that up with them, or just don't follow? Idk... Seems like a simple solution to me. 🤷

#I apologize for the lengthy dissertation

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celtics534 · 2 years

Text

In Your Warmth I Forget How Cold it Can Be Chapter 12

God Knows What is Real and What's Fake

I’m very excited to share this chapter! I hope you all are ready for some action!

The next (and final) chapter won’t be posted next Saturday like normal. Time is not on my side to get it done in time. But I promise to post it as soon as possible :)

Read on: FF.net or AO3

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Harry's fingers tapped a manic rhythm against the steering wheel. He hated this feeling. It felt like he'd abandoned her. He knew that was his protective nature, but there was a sinking feeling in his gut with every kilometer he drove away from Ginny's parents. Harry couldn't explain it. It was a bad feeling, all based on a wave.

That wave.

His mind kept playing it on repeat. Her body had been so stiff that Harry could see the tension across the yard. The lack of enthusiasm had also sent him on edge. It had been like... like she was nervous.

He couldn't figure it out. She had been so excited, practically skipping to the front door. Then that door had opened, and everything had changed. What would cause her attitude to shift so drastically?

Stopping at a sign, Harry looked both ways before crossing the intersection. The dark winding roads were hard to navigate at night. He kept his speed slow for any sudden bend in the path. It made the supposed five-minute trip, to the guest house he'd booked, a nearly eight minute trip. That fact brought Harry some comfort. Ginny was only eight minutes away.

A lot could happen in eight minutes.

Harry groaned as he parked in the small car park. He needed to stop. He would never make it through the night if he kept thinking like this. Everything was fine. Riddle was locked away. Kingsley's team had Riddle's men on the run. No one would be looking at him or Ginny.

He forced himself to take three deep breaths, releasing them slowly. His heart raced in an unsteady rhythm, slowing to a manageable tempo. It was all in his imagination. All these dark thoughts and images were something his mind created because it was twisted from all the shit he'd seen. Ginny was safe at her parent's house. She was gonna spend her night hugging her mum and comforting her dad.

It was painful, but eventually, Harry managed to get himself to leave the car. He collected his overnight bag from the backseat and went into the reception. A pleasant older gentleman greeted him with a toothy grin.

"Welcome! You must be, Mr. Potter." His words had a slight lisp to them, but Harry found it oddly charming.

"Yes, sir."

The innkeeper waved his hand. "No need for the sir. Call me, Tom. We've not that formal around here."

Harry's had to hold back his grimace at the name. Riddle had forever tainted it for him. Instead, Harry forced a return grin on his face. "Thanks, Tom."

Tom's smile grew. "Alrighty! So here is your key." He held out and old fashion skeleton key. "You'll be up on the third floor, second door on the right."

Harry eyed the slightly rusted key for a second before taking it. He'd never used a key like it, only seen it in films. It made him think of a medieval castle or rickety garden gate. Tom cheerfully chatted about the best local pub (which he owned) and other hot spots. Harry barely listened as they made their way up to his room.

"Will you be wanting anything to eat tonight?" Tom asked once they reached the third floor.

It took Harry a long moment to focus on his guide. "Um... no, I'm all set. I'm just going to go straight to bed."

Tom nodded, giving another of his broad grins. He waved a hand down the hall towards Harry's room. "Well, if you need anything, please call down to the counter or come down. My wife and I are happy to help."

Harry thanked the man before heading to his door. It took a second for the old key to ease into the lock. Fortunately, the room was more modern than the security (though not by much). Harry dropped his bag on the corner of the double bed. He collapsed perpendicular onto the mattress, hearing the groans and squeaks of the old box spring.

His eyes shut on their own accord as he allowed himself to take a moment. Then his fingers reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. The bright screen lit up, showing the time.

Thirty minutes. It had been thirty minutes since he'd left Ginny standing there on the step of her parents’ house. Thirty minutes since she'd walked through the kitchen door.

That wave. Fuck, that wave still nagged at him. It had felt so... forced and painful. She should have been happy and excited. Loose with the joy of seeing her parents. But instead, she'd been stiff as a board.

Harry started drumming his hand against the bedspread at that rapid pace from before. Fuck... Fuck, he needed to hear her voice. He told her to call in an hour, but there was no way he would make it another thirty minutes. Tapping rapidly at the screen, Harry pulled up Ginny's contact.

He watched the screen as the speaker echoed around the room. One ring. Two rings. Three. Four. Five. It kept going for eleven rings before his call was sent to voicemail. The tinny automatic voice that answered made Harry's heart hammer. He ended the call and instantly redialed. Again he was met with the annoying automation.

His body jerked up as he stared at the phone. His fingers closed so tightly around the device Harry could feel it start to bend. It took a conscious effort for him to loosen his grip. She would have answered his first call. She knew how nervous he was about sending her alone, so she would have paused whatever conversation she'd had to tell him she was alright. Ignoring the second call....

Harry was running out of the old house and was peeling down the road before Tom could even figure out the loud commotion coming from the staircase.

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Just thirty-two minutes ago, Harry had taken the English backroads at a cautious, slow pace; now, he was taking them like a Formula one driver. He took a sharp right way too wide. If another car had been on the road he'd hit them head on, but Harry couldn't slow down.

That wave.

That wave was the last image he had of Ginny and he'd ignored his instincts. He'd driven away and all the while she might have been going into... Goosebumps rose across his body as he went around an S curve.

If something had happened to Ginny... if one of Riddle's men had come after her... Harry didn't know what he'd do. He'd never be able to forgive himself.

Harry pressed his foot to the gas pedal as he hit a long stretch of straight road. The car accelerated quickly and dangerously. He was two minutes from the dirt road that led to the Burrow. Three minutes from the little parking area beside the garden. It had been thirty-five minutes since Ginny had waved at him. Thirty-five minutes where some fucking bastard could have...

"Fuck!" Harry yelled into the silence of the car. His rage and anxiety came bubbling to the surface. He was losing his mind! He needed to see Ginny with his own eyes before he could calm down.

He took the turn onto the dirt road, not slowing. The violent bumps jerked his car, but Harry didn't succumb to them. His speed didn't drop below eighty.

When the Burrow finally came into view, Harry could see the kitchen light still glowing warmly. There were also lights up across the house. He skidded to a stop, nearly hitting the old farm fencing that kept cars from driving on the grass.

He turned off the car, enveloping the garden back into darkness. Harry grabbed the gun, holster, and ammo he'd placed into the glove compartment with quick, efficient movements. In less than thirty seconds Harry was out of the car, shoulder holster on, and approaching the house. He moved to the kitchen window first, peering inside.

Nothing.

No one.

The room was empty. Harry stared for a moment longer. Why would the light be on if no one was there? He was about to back away when something caught his eye. His heart climbed into his throat when he realized what it was.

A leg.

It was half hidden behind the table and chairs, but Harry could clearly tell it was a leg. If he'd have to guess a man based on the trouser pants and the large foot.

Harry moved quickly to the side door he'd seen Ginny disappear into. He pulled out his phone, quickly calling nine-nine-nine. The moment the operator came on, Harry started to explain. He kept his voice low as he covered all his bases: his title, the location, possible crime, three potential victims, and possible injuries.

"I will be entering the premises armed. Please inform responders of my presence. I will stay on the line, but I'll be putting you on mute."

"Detective Potter, we have a response team fifteen minutes out. Please wait outside of the —" Harry turned the volume off the call with one button. He slid the phone back into his pocket. The call had taken valuable time, but Harry wanted back up on the way in case things were worse than he imagined. Taking one more second, Harry pulled his gun out of the holster, checking to make sure the chamber was loaded before slowly opening the door.

From his window perch, Harry's view had been limited, but he could see the entire room from here. He could see the chaos that had reigned. Broken china littered all over. There were scattered pieces of a chair strewn across the floor that went into what Harry assumed was the sitting room. But it was the prone figure that got Harry's attention.

The older man lay in a small puddle of blood. If Harry had to place a guess, he'd say it was Ginny's father. Harry could see the large gash that stood out prominently across the man's pale forehead. The wound didn't look too deep, but as Harry moved in closer, he could see a red stain spreading over the white night shirt.

Harry moved fast, falling to his knees and checking for a pulse. After a long, terrifying moment, Harry found one. It was thready, but there. Harry found the source of the blood on the man's shirt. A long knife wound ran down his side. Based on Harry’s experience, the man had been sliced and then bopped on the head, knocking him out cold.

He looked around before finding a clean dish towel and pressing it over the cut. The man let out a weak groan, and Harry let out a sigh of relief. Harry was about to look around for something to hold the makeshift bandage when a scream came from upstairs.

A woman's scream.

Harry swore under his breath. He needed to stop this bleeding, but someone was in trouble upstairs. Without any options, Harry took the man's arm and pressed it against the cloth. Praying Ginny's father wouldn't move before help arrived, Harry jumped to his feet and rushed to the stairs.

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The old floors of the Burrow amplified every step Harry took, no matter how lightly he walked. The creaking and groaning made Harry wince. He was certain whoever had attacked the Weasleys would know exactly where he was.. that they were planning on jumping out and killing him on the spot. But Harry couldn't stop. He needed to get to whoever screamed. Ginny was somewhere in this house.

At the third landing, Harry cleared a small bedroom to the right and a bathroom to the left. Both empty and showing no signs of being recently occupied. The house had six stories; Harry knew that because Ginny had told him all about how her parents had continued to add floors as they added kids. She'd told Harry the house somehow magically remained standing, giving off Leaning Tower of Pisa vibes.

He started down the thin corridor where a single door stood ajar. Blood pounded in his ears with every step, making it hard for him to listen. But the closer he got to the door, the louder it got. The whimpering. Someone was in that room and they were not okay.

With his heart slamming hard in his ribs, Harry eased himself against the door before pushing it open with his shoulder. He swept left then right, holding his gun steady. No one hid in the corners. No one lay in wait along the wall. But there was someone in the room.

Harry met brown eyes just like Ginny's and knew this had to be her mother. She was bound to a chair, her mouth gagged with duct tape. Harry had to bite back his anger as he noticed how her clothing had been ripped and tinged with blood.

"Molly?" He kept his voice quiet and calm, approaching slowly. Her body had begun to tremble as she stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. Harry slid his gun into the holster before raising his hands. "Molly, my name is Harry Potter. Detective Harry Potter."

Surprise, confusion, and relief filtered across her face in quick succession before her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Harry couldn't blame her. He would be warry of a stranger after whatever had happened here.

"I've been... with Ginny for a month," Harry told her, hoping to bring some credit to his name. "I ran into her in the street, and I've kept her with me. To protect her from —" From this exact situation. Guilt turned in his gut, but he forced himself to stay on task. "If I tell you something personal about Ginny, will that help you feel more comfortable about me?"

Molly's deep brown eyes stared at him long and hard, clearly trying to tell if he was being honest. Finally, after a long moment, she nodded. Harry released a long breath. "Alright... alright. Ginny told me about how the first time she brought a boy home, the twins put itching powder all over the bloke."

It took a moment for Molly to remember Ginny's ex and what had happened to him. Harry could see the exact second when the memory came back to her. Her eyes started filling with tears.

Harry took that as his invitation to move in and untie her. He pulled out his pocket knife, sawing into the rope. It took longer than Harry wanted, but eventually, he got Molly free from her binds.

He folded the knife, sliding it back into his pocket. "Molly, I'm going to take off the duct tape. It's going to hurt, but please don't scream. I'm gonna do it quick. One pull."

She nodded, her eyes still bright with unshed tears, but he could feel the determination flow off her. Without hesitating, Harry peeled a corner of the tape off her skin and then pulled it quickly.

Molly winced but bit her tongue as the tape fell to the floor. Harry helped her to her feet, ensuring no significant injuries. Based on his primary check, she was worse for wear but nothing life threatening.

A million questions went through Harry's head. Who had done this? How many were there? How did they get into the house? But only one took priority. "Where is Ginny?"

"I — He —" Molly sucked in a deep breath, clearly struggling to contain her fear. "He took her upstairs... up to my room, I think."

"That's on the next floor?"

She nodded. "It's the door on the left."

Harry straightened his spine. "Is it just the one man?"

Again Molly nodded. "I have no idea who he is but... but he tied Arthur and me to chairs. Snuck up on us while we were sleeping." Her voice started to tremble in time with her shoulders. "He hit Arthur on the head so hard."

"Your husband is downstairs. He has a knife wound in the side and a head injury. You head down there and keep pressure on the wounds. I've already called for backup. They should be here any minute."

Molly swallowed so loudly he could hear it. "And you'll go get Ginny? You'll save my baby?"

Harry pulled his gun back out of the holster. "Nothing will stop me."

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With slowly, steady steps, Harry approached the master bedroom. The door was shut, but he could see the light beam coming from the bottom. There was another flight of stairs to his right, but Harry focused solely on the door. He placed his head against it, trying to hear anything over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears.

Nothing.

No voices. No footsteps. No breathing.

Nothing.

Swallowing the fear of what he would see, Harry grabbed the handle. The door swung open with ease. The bedroom wasn't overly large, only containing enough space for a dresser, a queen size bed, and a single chair. A single chair that had ropes lying around it.

Harry's heart pounded violently against his ribs. She'd been here... she'd been tied in here, but now... but now she could be anywhere.

"Fuck!" The curse slipped from his mouth as he swung a vicious kick at the chair. He'd missed her. Ginny had been here, and Harry had failed to save her. Now he had no idea where she was. Her kidnapper could have snuck her from the house while Harry had tended to Molly.

"Fuck." This time, the word came out like a sob. Tears started clouding his vision. He'd failed her. She was now at the mercy of some unknown psychopath. A psychopath with a vendetta.

Blinking rapidly, he forced his vision to clear. He lifted his head from the cut ropes, staring dolefully through the window. That's when he saw it. A figure dragging a wiggling body.

He rushed to the glass, trying to get a better image. The kitchen light bathed the garden enough to show him atall man with —

Harry was out the bedroom door before anything other than her name echoed in his head.

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Too long. It took too long for him to make it down the four flights of stairs and out the kitchen door. He sped past Molly, who knelt by her husband's side. There wasn't time to answer her question of where he was going. Harry had to get to Ginny before she was dragged into the woods. Before, she was lost to him.

He left the door open as he sprinted across the lawn. They were almost to the large cluster of trees. From his distance, Harry knew reaching them would be a struggle. They were a good fifty meters away. He was fast but not fast enough to get to Ginny before she was carried into the dark forest or her kidnapper injured her.

Ginny was still fighting the man. Her body jerked wildly, her feet digging at the dirt in an attempt to slow their progress. Her kidnapper had her in a choke hold, his back to the trees as he hauled her.

"Ginny!" Harry yelled her name, hoping to let her know he was there. That he would get to her. Harry refused to think any other way. She was in his sights, and he would be damned if he didn't save her.

At his voice, Ginny's head jerked in his direction. He knew she couldn't see him, not his face at least. At best, she could see his shadow as he sprinted in the kitchen light. But he swore her eyes had somehow found his. His call didn't just get Ginny's attention. Her kidnapper paused to find the source.

It was then that Harry's heart stopped. Ginny's body went limp and fell to the ground. Her neck! Her kidnapper must have snapped her neck. Harry's knees wanted to buckle, slowing his pace. Ginny's attacker swore loudly as he went to grab her, but Ginny was faster. She rolled away from him, gaining speed as momentum started. Her course took her towards a garden bed.

Harry's heart only started beating once she was four yards away from her attacker. His feet, which had felt like lead, suddenly felt lighter, letting his pace pick up. Harry was only twenty meters away when Ginny's attacker reached her. His hands gripped her shirt, hauling her to her feet.

"Fuck you!" Ginny's angry screams carried across the dark night. Harry watched in shock as Ginny's attacker dropped her. She fell harshly to the grass, scrambling up to her feet. Her hands were wrapped around something that she started wielding like a bat.

A shovel, Harry realized. She'd found a shorter shovel and had used it to hit her attacker. Pride rose in his chest as he watched his woman prepare to take out anyone who came near her.

Riddle. Harry recognized his cruel snarl as he got within five meters of Ginny. Riddle had somehow found the Burrow and attacked Ginny's family.

The way Riddle stared at Ginny, the venom and hatred would have made a lesser person quake in their boots. But not Ginny. She straightened her spine and tightened her grip on her makeshift weapon.

Harry skidded to a stop a few steps back from Ginny. He pointed his gun at Riddle. "Don't move! I won't hesitate!"

Riddle turned his hostility on Harry. His fingers twitched as he glowered at Harry. "You can't shoot an unarmed man."

Harry lifted his weapon slightly higher, the barrel pointing straight at Riddle's chest. "Try me."

Ginny started backing to stand beside Harry, her weapon still ready and eyes still locked on Riddle. The moment her shoulder bumped his, the weight on Harry's chest lessened. They stood five meters from Riddle, armed and ready.

It was in Riddle's eyes. Harry could see the fear and resentment in the cold depths. He could also see the desperation. Riddle's intentions were clear a second before the man had his back to Harry and was running.

"Ginny, wait here!" Harry said as he started after Riddle. This time Harry wouldn't let him get away. Riddle would not escape. He would not get the chance to come back and harm Ginny.

Adrenaline made Harry's feet move faster than before. He was gaining on Riddle. Four meters. Three. When Riddle looked over his shoulder, he was guaranteed to see Harry's determined expression even in just the moonlight.

Riddle sprinted into the woods, ducking in and out between trees. Harry kept hot on his trail, still gaining distance. Two meters. With a burst of speed, Harry jumped, tackling Riddle's back. Riddle landed hard in the dirt, the wind getting knocked out of him as Harry fell on top of him. Harry kept his weight pressed on Riddle as he rose into a better position.

"Tom Riddle, you are under arrest." The satisfied smile that curled Harry's lips made his cheeks hurt. Riddle started struggling under him, but Harry pressed his knee hard into the small of his back. "Just fucking try it."

"Harry!" Ginny's voice came from somewhere to his left. "Harry!"

"Here!"

Ginny sprinted over to them. It was hard to see her in the moon's minimal light, but Harry would recognize her hair anywhere. "I have rope from the shed."

Harry could see the bright yellow cord in her hands. "Hand me some. I'll tie his arms. You can get his legs." They worked in quickly, locking Riddle's hands and ankles together. Riddle's curses and obscenities echoed off the trees as they tightened the cord. Once he was certain Riddle wouldn't escape, Harry rose to his feet.

"Well." Ginny's voice trembled. "This wasn't the homecoming I was expecting."

Harry tore his eyes from Riddle, who continued calling them every name in the book, to look at his girlfriend. She stood statue still as she watched Riddle's wiggling form.

"Ginny." Her name came out like a dying man asking for water. He lost sight of her as his eyes blurred with tears. There was no stopping them. He could feel the wetness slide down his cheeks as he turned to wrap her in his arms. His nose went into her hair, inhaling the scent he feared he never would again. "Ginny."

Her arms came around his back, holding him just as tightly as he held her. She didn't speak. Instead just held him as he held her. They didn't need words. They needed this.

"Just you wait!" Riddle yelled. "I'll be back! You think you've won, but you haven't! I've got —"

Harry cut off his rambling with a sharp kick to the side. "Shut up." He slowly released Ginny from his arms, but kept one hand on her waist. Harry needed physical reassurance just for another moment. "We should take him back to the house. The police should be here by now."

Riddle grunted and tried to shift from where he was tied on the ground.

"Move another inch and I'll aim that shovel at your balls," Ginny declared, giving Riddle a sharp look.

"I'd listen to her," Harry warned. "My woman's not afraid to fight back."

Riddle stopped squirming to glare at them with hatred. Harry's hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer as if he still couldn't believe she was there, that she was whole and safe and his arms. When she rose up on her toes to press a hard lingering kiss to his lips, he relaxed.

"I love you." When she fell back on her heels, her voice took on a tone of determination. "Let's go. I want to see him be the one in shackles this time."

Harry took her hand in his. Her warmth spread from his fingers across his body. With Ginny by his side, Harry forgot about everything they'd just been through. All that mattered was her. Them. She was his warmth and he never wanted to be in the cold without her again.

#hinny #Harry Potter #Harry and Ginny #harry potter fanfiction #harry X ginny #hinny fic #hinny fanfic #in your warmth i forget how cold it can be

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gwennafran · 1 year

Photo

Pale Lights - Chapter 23 Trial Participants Lineup Fanart

Massive rearrangement of everyone as the diving crews finally are official.

New info is added. Finally some actual info on Yaretzi.

Inyoni got moved to the section we after this chapter really didn’t want to see her in. EE, why are you doing this to me? That was one of my favorite designs with the nice cool scar! :(

Minor art updates:

Small Ishaan art update as he’s no more sickly looking / pale.

Angahrad got a small update with an added sword belt.

Wardrobe changes: Zenzele was noted to have a coat, so I updated his look to something more Baroque than Renaissance. Also gave him a tricorn as that is a Malani fashion trend, so seeing how I was taking his wardrobe in a more modern direction it seemed fitting.

Yaretzi got a full wardrobe update. Of course, as we all know Yaretzi is super plain and easy to not notice at all. While wearing basically a full bard outfit of stripes on the top and a patchwork skirt (Yes Tristan. I am judging you and your choice of how to describe people). Anyway, I had fun finding some historical Aztec references that fitted to that exact combo. Almost. The skirt is woven to have the pattern rather than actual patchwork. No extra full body art, but I know exactly what she’s wearing. Except the shoes. I’m assuming she has shoes, though. Even if only Aztec nobles had them in real life and everyone else were barefooted. ;)

Isabel was noted to wear skirts this chapter. The outfit we last heard described did not have skirts. I’m therefore assuming she changed her outfit even if we didn’t get a thirsty description from Angharad. Probably she dressed a little up again now she can expect to not track through the wilderness. You think Yaretzi had me geeking out with a two-hour research session? Yeah, no. This is me properly geeking out in a whole different way. Isabel is running out of luggage room for more new clothes. Seriously, a full gown like the first she was wearing takes up room for a full bag and is easily 7 kgs of fabric. And don’t even get me started on transporting big hats. This outfit is done reusing a bunch of items she has worn in earlier art. The yellow satin bodice is the same as the last outfit, but she has dumped the jacket and added “mix and match” sleeves. I figure she has a skirt to match those sleeves, but the layers below that skirt would be the same as used for the yellow brocade dress from the ship. The hat is from that first dress on the ship as well. This means it all in all only is one third extra outfit dragged along. Instead of a full one.

#Pale Lights #Fanart #Cast Overview #character designs #gwennafran art #seriously the shoe thing is the sort of over the top you wouldn't believe in a fictional work #yet it really was a thing #wtf?

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sian4chatsworth · 8 months

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Paloma Elsesser

Model Paloma Elsesser joins Precious Lee and Jill Kortleve on the cover of the April issue of British Vogue, under the tagline the "new supers". The trio are a powerful force within the industry, who all share a vision for purposeful fashion and imagery and ask for a more thoughtful and inclusive approach. Paloma is one of the most influential models on the circuit, and was named Model of the Year by Models.com in 2020. In the April issue, she describes confronting an industry that is largely white and thin-centric, and getting to a place where she feels supported "alongside my sisters and the game".

The Brilliant Women Who Brought London Fashion Week To Life

The mood was high on female empowerment at London Fashion Week, as designers cast women of all ages, ethnicities and sizes to model their condensed collections, born during the reflective period instigated by the global pandemic.

Devyn Garcia

youtube

Devyn Garcia is very much of and defining the moment, inspired by and moving into the space opened up by models and fellow i-D cover stars like Precious Lee and Paloma Elsesser.

They’re a generation of models broadening what we see in fashion, and Devyn has found herself emerging into the spotlight, effortlessly encapsulating the new mood of freedom in fashion.

Paloma: I wonder also whether the fact that you’re dealing with social media as you start out, has that affected you at all? How do you see yourself? How do you see your body? Your identity?

Devyn: I personally don’t like social media. I find myself comparing myself to other girls - whether it’s the work we’re doing or how we look. We all have our days where we feel super confident. In general, I love the way I look, I love this little mark on my body. And then some days I want to crawl into a hole and just lay there. So I do still find myself comparing myself to other girls where it’s like, oh, why isn’t my stomach as flat as hers? There’s another side of it too - that a picture never captures how you look in real life at all; whether it’s a picture from a professional photographer, or just something taken on an iPhone. Sometimes you look smaller. Sometimes you look bigger. You don’t look like that.

Zoe Elyse

Signed with Wilhelmina Models, Zoe Elyse's career as a petite model has garnered her a following of over 75k followers on Instagram. Known for her quirky style and edgy personality, Zoe interlaces her work with her personal life in an act of transparency.

The petite model explained in an interview with Dazey Lady that becoming a model at her height was a difficult road to head down. "It doesn't happen overnight and the let downs I've experienced only push me forward and help me grow." Zoe's passion for the industry and support from her family kept her eyes on the prize.

Now, Zoe posed for a Teen Vogue campaign and has modelled for Refinery29 to Dolls Kill. She continues to push onwards and truly believes modelling should be based on skill, not body requirements.

"Have fun and don't take yourself too seriously."

Crystal Renn

Having overcome her eating disorder, Renn is now on a mission to foster self-esteem in young women of all sizes.

A lot of people know about your before and after modelling careers, what do you like about modelling at your current size?

“I don’t have to worry about my weight. I’m not someone who says everyone should be plus or everyone should be thin. I fluctuate. I am what I am. And I don’t think I should gain weight for people. I would never take back my experiences because I learned that at a very young age and that’s helped me in all areas of my life. I think this job has the potential to change young girls and to make them into well-rounded human beings if it’s done right.”

What do you see for yourself in the next 10 years?

“Many, many things! I’d really like to design a line for fuller figured women. I think it would be extremely positive for them because I probably have a different taste in clothes than most of the plus-sized clothes that have been put out there and I’d like to offer that to them in some way.

Harvard Referencing:

Fig 1. MONDADORI PORTFOLIO/GETTY IMAGES. (2022) Paloma Elsesser walking in the Andreadamo spring/summer 2023 show. [Photograph] Available from: https://www.vogue.co.uk/news/article/paloma-elsesser-facts [Accessed: 6th September 2023]

Fig 2. ELIZA SYS. (N/A) "It's The Perfect White Tee" [Online] Available from: https://issuemagazine.com/zoe-elyse/#/ [Accessed: 25th September 2023]

Fig 3. LE SEGRETAIN/GETTY IMAGES. (2010) SAINT TROPEZ, FRANCE - MAY 11: A model walks the runway during the Chanel Cruise Collection Presentation on May 11, 2010 in Saint-Tropez, France. [Photograph] Available from: https://www.glamour.com/story/crystal-renn-hits-the-runway-f [Accessed: 26th September 2023]

SPEDDING, E. (2023) 5 Things You Didn't Know About Paloma Elsesser. [Online] Available from: https://www.vogue.co.uk/news/article/paloma-elsesser-facts [Accessed: 6th September 2023].

NEWBOLD, A. (2020) Meet The Brilliant Women Who Brought London Fashion Week To Life. [Online] Available from: https://www.vogue.co.uk/fashion/article/real-women-london-fashion-week-casting [Accessed: 6th September 2023].

www.youtube.com. (n.d.). Fashion Model Devyn Garcia Discusses Body Inclusivity And Beauty Standards. [online] Available at: https://youtu.be/crFrs297Piw?si=BysJHh12dILOGsEq [Accessed 22 Sep. 2023].

ELSESSER, P. (2021) Devyn Garcia: “I didn’t want to be a typical curvy girl selling a T-shirt.” [Online] Available from: https://i-d.vice.com/en/article/qjbbww/devyn-garcia-interview [Accessed: 22nd September 2023]

DAWSON, N. (N/A) Top 10 Petite Models Changing The Game. [Online] Available from: https://thephotostudio.com.au/all/inspiration/10-petite-models-changing-the-game/ [Accessed: 25th September 2023]

HUFFPOST. (2010) Crystal Renn is Big on Beauty and Brains: Why This Positive Plus-Size Model is Poised to Change Fashion. [Online] Available from: https://www.huffpost.com/entry/crystal-renn-is-big-on-be_b_527831/amp [Accessed: 26th September 2023]

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