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rustedhearts · 9 months

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Raise Hell (Nascar!Steve x fem!reader)

summary: nascar driver steve harrington is a hot mess. literally. but when he keeps coming into your diner, staggeringly drunk and adorable, you can’t help but grow fond of him.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

hot wheels masterlist main masterlist

tags: nascar!steve, reader is referred to as ‘bunny,’ just fluff and flirting.

author’s note: i don’t know much about the mechanics of nascar because i’m more of a formula one fan, so some of the racing terms/descriptions might seem a bit more f1. sorry!

raise hell, praise…harrington?

talladega, alabama, summer 1995

In Talladega, a girl’s got two things to be: a country beauty queen, or stuck at her high school job. Stupid or stuck. You were stuck—specifically, stuck balancing trays of sweet teas and cokes, and burning your palms on the underside of steaming hot burgers and flapjacks. Stuck in the same stupid powder blue uniform and frilly lace apron you’d been swearing since you were seventeen. Sometimes, you started to wonder if you were no longer stuck—just plain stupid.

But two years ago, Nascar saw a new face on the tracks: one Steve Harrington. Donned ‘Pretty Boy’ for his princely good looks and boyish charm, he burned rubber like nobody’s business, and Alabama’s been in an uproar ever since. You normally didn’t welcome midwestern men with such open and loving arms in a place like this, but as the folks say: he’s one of us, honey.

And one of you he became. He even had the slight slur of a southern twang to prove it, and you came to hear it firsthand when he sat at the end of your counter one night last October, bleary-eyed and pink-cheeked.

“What can I get you, Hot Wheels?” You hadn’t meant for the name to slip, but once it was out there, you couldn’t take it back.

Luckily, Steve just laughed. Slumped on his palm, draped over the counter full of old crumbs and sticky syrup, he pointed toward a laminated menu beside him.

“You guys sell fries?”

You gave him a basket of hot, golden french fries fresh out of the fryer, salted to perfection by yours truly. When Steve saw them sitting in front of him, practically overflowing in their red plastic, newspaper-lined confines, his eyes got huge. He devoured the basket in five minutes flat. You turned your back to clean the coffee pot, and when you went to check on him, offer a glass of water to rouse him from drunken stupor, he was gone.

Sitting in his empty, grease-splattered basket were two hundred dollar bills. It’s still the largest tip you’ve ever gotten on such a small bill to date (or…on any bill).

When Steve Harrington stopped by the diner, you went home with a thicker wallet, a swollen heart, and a burning blush on your face.

You always heard his arrival before you saw his face. The smooth, low grumble of his Ferrari engine. His headlights blared through the blinds on the diner windows, whipping with effortless expertise into the front spot near the door. The headlights cut off, and moments later the door chimed as his lean figure stumbled through.

Designer sneakers scuffing the floor, black leather racing jacket with endorsement patches ironed on neat gleaming beneath the white fluorescents of the diner. He smelled like gasoline and boozy cologne—or maybe that was just the booze. Steve's favorite bar was just up the road: a swanky wood-paneled joint with a mechanical bull, and girls just out of college in skimpy denim shorts and leather cowboy boots. He always left with pink-tinged cheeks and a sway in his step, and though you disapproved of getting behind the wheel under the influence, you didn't mind that he raced all the way here just to get to you.

Tonight, like every night, he strode straight toward the counter and took his seat on a squeaky metal stool at the end.

He patted the counter, shot a finger gun at you, and smiled a half-cocked grin. "Hey, pretty girl."

Cheeks blazing, you rolled your eyes as you collected the coffee pot—freshly brewed just for him—and his basket of sizzling, golden fries. You placed the fries in front of him and flipped over a porcelain mug, pouring a steady stream until it pooled around the rim. No room for cream or sugar: how Steve liked it best. He was already five fries in by the time you placed the coffee pot back.

"Hey, Hot Wheels. Catch anythin' good tonight?"

Elbows pressed against the counter, you leaned over the stack of sticky menus and extra ketchup bottles to flash him your sweetest smile. You always laid it on real thick for guys like him. None of 'em tipped like Steve did, and none of 'em were nearly as handsome. None of 'em made you laugh like Steve did. Jesus, how stupid was that?

"Nothin' worth bringin' home, Bun," Steve sighed, head falling to his palm as his fingers made quick work of delivering fries straight to his mouth.

"Better luck next time." You shrugged, though you knew what this game was.

"No," Steve mused, eyes narrowed with a twinkle of mockery, lips coated in shiny grease and flecks of salt. "No, I don't think so. Know who I'd love to take out, though?"

You pulled away from the counter, that familiar flutter in your chest. You reached for the damp rag previously soaked in lemon sanitizing spray, wiping at the crumbs behind the counter. Steve always came in right when you were closing up. The first time he stumbled in, you threatened to kick him out, but something about those stupid puppy dog eyes and that sly, halfway smile made you stop. You always agreed to close on weekends, just to stay back and clean up after the strays and Steve Harrington. The diner was quiet, only the buzz of old lights and the distant whoosh of cars on the road keeping you company until he appeared.

"Who?" you asked, eyes flicking his way as he munched on his fries. The newspaper in his basket crinkled with his eager snatching.

Steve lifted his head, movements slow and bleary, and in your periphery, you could see it follow your every motion. His jacket made his shoulders look broad and big. You could smell the cigarette remnants still on his hands when you moved in front of him again.

"Come on, Bun," he huffed, that poor, sweet attempt at an Alabama drawl clinging to every word. The way he said your given nickname made your heart squeeze.

"Come on, what?" You flashed him a smile, pursed lips and scrunched nose, and he shook his head amusedly at it. He thought you were so beautiful, even in this ridiculous 1950s getup, hair frazzled and face gleaming with heat.

"When are you gonna let me take you out, sweetheart?" he pouted, hand bumping his empty, grease-stained basket when he dropped it to the counter.

Though your insides were stirring and the back of your neck felt like someone was giving it a pinch, you spun on your heel and reached for the coffee pot again, feigning an air of cool ease. You never wanted a man to have the upper hand on you, no matter how pretty that man might be. Your daddy taught you better than that.

Pressing close to the counter, you held the pot midway in the air, hovering, and caught Steve's eye. His were all whiskey brown and muddy green, more hazel than anything. It was only at this moment that you heard the Willie Nelson song humming on the jukebox in the corner. His lips parted when your eyes narrowed, catlike and dreamily charming.

You inched closer, leaning in like you were fixing to whisper a secret. "When you come in sober, Mr. Harrington."

You topped off his untouched coffee, placed the pot back, and sashayed toward the tables to wipe them down (for the second time tonight). Behind you at the counter, Steve gnawed on his lip, head tipping to admire the backs of your thighs where they caught the plump flesh of your ass beneath your shorts. He scoffed to himself, snatching the mug thrumming with heat, slurping at the potent black liquid.

If sober was what you wanted, sober you would get.

♡ ♡

Nascar was always on channel two, and when your manager Rod was working, he insisted on playing it on the tiny television behind the counter. He paced between the office in the sticky kitchen and the space behind the counter, munching on peanuts and sipping a jumbo Pepsi from the morning.

"Rod, maybe you should have somethin' else to eat." You whooshed a platter of burgers and fries over his head as you rushed toward your table.

"Nah, I'm waitin' for that-that Harrin'ton kid to come on," he excused, motioning toward the tv with a salted peanut palm.

You bit back a grin, sliding the plates onto the table for your eager customers. Wiping your hands on your apron, you headed back to the counter and leaned on the other side.

"What, excited to watch his engine crap out again?” you teased, giggling at Rod’s offended expression before flouncing off toward the kitchen for your break.

“That kid might not be from here, but he’s one of us now, Bunny!” Rod called after you, accent thick and slurred loose.

You waved a hand, eyes rolling. “Why d’ you think I give him such a hard time, Rod?”

You heard his hoarse chuckle as you hopped up on the empty steel tabletop in the kitchen, snatching a soggy fry from a half-empty basket. The cooks all murmured about a table that sent back a burger (there’s always one), and asked you about your shift today. The occasional ‘how are the kids,’ and ‘your garden holding up well in this heat?’ ensued, but most of them knew that when you had a moment to yourself back here, you preferred it in silence.

Billy, a line cook a few years older than yourself, whizzed by with a greasy silver spatula and a plate of perfect, crispy grilled cheese. He slipped it onto your lap as he passed, eye dropping in a wink, before he returned to the grill. You grinned in thanks, picking up the warm, shiny sandwich.

You were halfway through the first triangular slice when a holler jolted you on the table. You dropped the slice, rushing to place the plate on the table and skitter into the dining room again. Head whipping around, you searched for some sort of disaster—a hurt child, a choking customer—and found Rod screaming at the television, red-faced and glistening with sweat.

Huffing, you collapsed against the counter. “Rod, what the hell?”

Rod didn’t tear his eyes away from the television as he smacked his hands together. “Aw, come on! His car’s crappin’ out, he’s gon’ have t’ leave the race.”

You shifted toward the television, preparing to scoff at the urgency of Rod’s statement when sparks skidded over the track on the screen. Even in their pixelated form, the sparks were bright and sharp as a firework on independence day. You watched the cherry red car bounce, jostling the driver inside—clear cause for a biting backache. The car veered left, then right, then toward the off track where Steve stopped it.

Rod cursed, slapping his knee and shaking his head.

“Got-damnit,” he shrilled, easing up from the stool. “When’re they gonna put ‘im in a car that actually drives?”

Rolling your eyes and attempting to ignore the ball of worry the size of Texas aching in your chest, you slid away from the counter and headed back toward the kitchen where your food waited.

“When are you gonna get t’ work, Rod?”

“Eh.”

♡ ♡

That night, you soaked the linoleum in lemon cleaner and scrubbed at the vinyl booths, lights dimmed to keep customer count low until you actually closed. Rod left a few hours ago, and only a handful of cooks lingered in the back, shooting the shit and sharing smokes. You liked having the dining room to yourself while you closed up, humming along the radio and watching the road through the windows. You fantasized about a life with enough money to never wipe a table again.

Given the day he had on the track, the last person you expected to see that night was Steve Harrington. So when the door chimed open and shoes squeaked across the freshly-cleaned tile, you whirled around with a customer-approved smile in preparation for a sweet but curt “we’re about to close.” However, the customer service facade dimmed at the sight of that familiar pretty face and those colorful ironed-on insignias.

“Hey, Bun.” He sounded breathless and beat.

"Hey," you squeaked, dumbfounded by the sight of him.

The outline of his helmet still sat on his face: aggravated red lines indented around his eyes, across his cheeks and nose. His hands, Ferrari-red and raw, trembled as they swept through his tousled hair. "Mind if I sit, Bun? Long day."

Which is how he ended up slumped in a clean booth, head of slick locks thumped against the glass. It felt odd to see him in an actual seat instead of his usual at the bar, but he needed the rest. You could only imagine the sort of strain a car going 200 miles an hour while jerking around had on someone.

You slipped into the kitchen, and with a meek and quiet plead, had the cooks make one last batch of fries fresh for Steve before they left. Just enough for the driver to get his strength back up and feel at home again. The fried pile of grease glistened and sizzled in their plastic confinement on the way out of the kitchen, a cold glass of Pepsi fizzing in your other hand.

You brought them to the man still drooped in the furthest booth, head tipping to find his eyes. "Steve?"

"Hmm?" Blearily, the racer sat upright and blinked at you.

Flashing him a fond smile, you pushed the basket of fries closer to him. "Food."

"Oh."

He munched on the crispy golden potatoes for a while in silence. The back door clinked with the absence of cooks. You thought about getting up to flip the sign over to 'sorry we're closed!' but you couldn't find it in yourself to leave the table. Eventually, you slid into the booth across from him and watched him eat. He sucked down the Pepsi through a striped straw like a toddler gulping apple juice.

"Why did you come here tonight? I mean...you're in no shape, Hot Wheels," you remarked, watching him rub his fingers free of salt.

Steve's eyes flickered toward you below his brows, chin tipped toward his food. He straightened up when he saw you watching, giving his shoulders a shrug. He smelled like scorched rubber, gasoline, and a bit of bourbon-whisky.

"Had a shit day," he muttered, eyes returning to his fries with urgency. "Knew seein’ you would cheer me up."

A flutter disrupted the rhythm thumping in your chest. You felt it in your throat, too, settling like indigestion. You swallowed harshly to clear it away, easing the wonderment in your face with a little grin. Steve went back to finishing the thin strips of fry remnants sitting at the bottom of his basket.

Stripped free of liquored charm and that 'pretty boy' suave, Steve Harrington actually seemed...sweet.

"Hey, Hot Wheels?"

Steve looked up, lips glassy with grease. "Yeah?"

"You can take me on that date now."

♡ ♡

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and-then-there-were-n0ne · 3 months

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I read this week that Instagram is pushing “overtly sexual adult videos” to young users. For a Wall Street Journal investigation, journalists created accounts that could belong to children, following young gymnasts, cheerleaders and influencers. The test accounts were soon served sexual and disturbing content on Instagram Reels, alongside ads for dating apps, livestream platforms with “adult nudity” and AI chatbots “built for cybersex”. Some were next to ads for kids’ brands like Disney.

This is something I’ve been trying to get across to parents about social media. The problem is not just porn sites. They are of course a massive concern. Kids as young as nine are addicted. The average age to discover porn is now 13, for boys and girls. And many in my generation are now realising just how much being raised on porn affected them, believing it “destroyed their brain” and distorted their view of sex.

But the problem is bigger than that. Porn is everywhere now. TikTok is serving up sex videos to minors and promoting sites like OnlyFans. The gaming platform Twitch is exposing kids to explicit live-streams. Ads for “AI sex workers” are all over Instagram, some featuring kids’ TV characters like SpongeBob and the Cookie Monster. And there’s also this sort of “soft-porn” now that pervades everything. Pretty much every category of content that kids could stumble across, from beauty trends to TikTok dances to fitness pages, is now pornified or sexualised in some way for clicks.

I think this does a lot of damage to Gen Z. I think it desensitises us to sex. I think it can ruin relationships. But beyond that, I also believe a major problem with everything being pornified is the pressure it puts on young girls to pornify themselves. To fit the sex doll beauty standard; to seek validation through self-sexualisation, and potentially monetise all this like the influencers they’re inundated with.

Which, of course, puts girls at risk of predators. Predators who are all over TikTok, Instagram and Snapchat. Predators whose algorithms helpfully deliver them more content of minors and steer them towards kids’ profiles. Predators who are taking TikToks of underage girls and putting them on platforms like Pornhub.

And this is even more terrifying because adolescent girls are especially vulnerable today. They are vulnerable anyway at that age—but today they have far less life experience than previous generations of girls did. They are extremely insecure and anxious, and much less resilient. Combine this with the fact that they are now more easily exposed to predatory men than ever before in history, and served to strangers by algorithms. And another thing: girls are also able to look way older now. They have AI editing apps to sexualise themselves. TikTok filters to pornify their bodies. And access to every kind of make-up and hair and fashion tutorial you can think of to look sexier and more mature. I don’t think enough parents realise how dangerous this situation is.

Which is why I find it so frustrating to see some progressives downplay the dangers of all this. Those that dismiss anyone concerned about the pornification of everything as a stuffy conservative. And somehow can’t see how the continual loosening of sexual norms might actually empower predatory men, and put pressure on vulnerable girls? That seems delusional to me.

Let’s just say I have little patience for those on the left who loudly celebrate women sexualising themselves online, selling it as fun, feminist and risk-free, but are then horrified to hear about 12 year-olds doing the same thing. C’mon. No wonder they want to.

But I also find it frustrating to see some on the right approach this with what seems like a complete lack of compassion. I don’t think it helps to relentlessly ridicule and blame young women for sexualising themselves online. I don’t think it’s fair either. We can’t give girls Instagram at 12 and then be surprised when as young women they base their self-worth on the approval of strangers. We can’t inundate kids with sexual content all the time and be shocked when they don’t see sex as sacred, or think sex work is just work! We can’t give them platforms as pre-teens where they are rewarded for sexualising themselves and presenting themselves like products and then shame them for starting an OnlyFans. We can’t expose them to online worlds where everything is sexualised and then be confused why some of Gen Z see their sexuality as their entire identity.

And again, on top of these platforms, girls are growing up in a culture that celebrates all of this. They are being raised to believe that they must be liberated from every restraint around sex and relationships to be free and happy, and many have never heard any different. Celebrities encourage them to be a slut, get naked, make/watch porn and make money! Mainstream magazines teach them how to up their nude selfie game! Influencers tell millions of young followers to start an OnlyFans, and pretend it’s about empowering young girls to do whatever they want with their bodies! I can’t say this enough: their world is one where the commodification and sexualisation the self is so normalised. It’s heartbreaking. And cruel that anyone celebrates it.

So sure, young women make their own choices. But when we have children sexualising themselves online, when girls as young as 13 are using fake IDs to post explicit content on OnlyFans, when a third of those selling nudes on Twitter are under the age of 18, I think it’s safe to say we are failing them from an early age.

I guess what I’m trying to get across is this: it’s tough for girls right now. It’s tough to be twelve and anxious and feel unattractive and this is how everyone else is getting attention. It’s tough to constantly compare yourself to the hyper-sexualised influencers that the boys you’re interested in are liking and following and thinking you have to compete. It’s tough to feel like the choice is sexualise yourself or nobody will notice you. The sad reality is we live in a superficial, pornified culture that rewards this stuff, and in many ways punishes you if you’re modest and sensitive and reserved, and a lot of girls are just trying to keep up with it.

We need serious cultural change. We need to wake up to how insane this all is, how utterly mental it is that we allow young girls anywhere near social media, and how we’ve let the liberalising of sexual mores escalate to the point where pre-teens are posing like porn stars and are lied to that it’s liberation. And where we need to start is with an absolute refusal from parents to let their kids on these platforms.

So please. If the relentless social comparison and obliteration of their attention span and confusion about their identity wasn’t enough, this has to be. Don’t let your daughters on social media.

#social media #freya #freya india

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celestialtarot11 · 3 months

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If you were a celeb, what would your vibe be? 💋🎬🌟 professions, careers etc 😍✨

Hi friends! Today we’ll be looking into something pretty fun! Your vibe as a celeb 💅🏻 enjoy and feel free to comment like and reblog 💗

Pile 1: Hi there pile 1’s! 🤗🌟 For pile 1 I am picking up you would be a singer or a musician of some kind. I’m seeing RGB lighting in a concert, slow dancing from you itself, holding the microphone and it’s a jazz kind of vibe. Slow and sensual, but enough to grip you because of the tantalizing way you sing 🤍 some of ya’ll may have beautiful voices! For some of ya’ll you have an indie vibe and keep it fun, lively, and sometimes sensual in the concerts 💅🏻 I also see you guys would have an awesome costume designer capturing a retro vintage style of dressing. Very dreamy colors, makeup, and visuals that is alluring. I feel you’d have such an alluring appearance and you’re private as well, you may not post personal information to the public but mostly share your band, music, and travels 🤗🤍 I absolutely adore this pile because this is my kind of music 😍 if ya’ll had a band already I’d book tickets! You’d travel to popular places like LA and the West Coast, NYC, Boston, I also heard Oregon…? That may resonate for a few of you 😂 But you love your fans and you’d have a close relationship with them, and i feel as a celeb your music is incredibly important. I feel like you’d make a lot of music based on romance & love and capturing how that feels. I feel like you’d be the celeb to bring back that teenager in us and thats why fans love you! 🤗💗 you cultivate a powerful community because you bring together nostalgic feelings & memories. I feel like people would definitely admire you a lot, and they’d love if you held Q&A sessions so they got to know your history with music, how you started, and how you met your band 👏 You’d have such a sex appeal too because you appear dreamy, comfortable, radiant and yet private 💋✨ some of yall may not be into music but modeling too, and you’d have a very dreamy appearance and unique look! Thank you my pile 1’s! Feel free to support by liking commenting and reblogging 🤍🌟

Pile 2: Hi there pile 2’s! We’ve got some influencers up in here in terms of health & wellness. Also fitness. I feel you guys would encourage your fans to eat healthier, and you’d do intensive research into healthier foods and holistic medicine 🌟💗 and as a result people really like you because you give them alternatives to medicine and popping pills 😂 also because I feel like you have a beautiful visual appearance. You appear put together, clean, professional and fun! You have a light hearted yet determined aura and people feel attracted to that 💅🏻✨ some of ya’ll might vlog & talk about your day, and people are invested in your workout routine, diet, and health! And also some of yall may have dogs so your fans would love them 🤗 I also feel like ya’ll would do wonderful creating your own wellness products and selling fitness related gear, people would love that! Especially those with disabilities that still want to work out. There’s something about you and how you create wellness products that are unique, they are designed for people that struggle or need help. I feel you hear your fans and you want to deliver results that are efficient and effective. I feel you’d work wonderfully with children too, and may pair up with organizations catered to the disabled and poverty. So people see you as incredibly humble, helpful, and supportive! You’re incredibly engaging with your fans & community and open to feedback! I feel like you’d be a great motivation speaker too, not because you’re aggressive but because you’re calm, efficient, and reliable in your tone. And you validate people’s experiences and feelings! People are drawn to your reassuring, gentle and determined personality 🤍🌟 you’d do great marketing fitness products too, or makeup products as well! If you’re into makeup you’d model and your fans love your reviews, they love how you do your makeup with precision and you’re unique with it too. You have innovative makeup ideas that people never thought of and it turns out beautiful 😍 I also feel you’d have something unique about your appearance and people cant forget it! It makes you stand out & beautiful 🤗💗 Overall you’d be open with your fans, inclusive, diverse and focus on educating them with health or tips for beauty 💗✨ so maybe you’re south asian and you want to make south asian makeup for those with olive undertones! That would be catering to a specific demographic! And people would greatly appreciate you because of how inclusive you are 🌟 thank you pile 2! Feel free to like comment and reblog for support 🤍

Pile 3: Hi there pile 3! So happy you’re here 🤍🤗 Lets get on with it shall we? Some of yall may have a welsh accent 😂 anyway! I feel like yall have great jokes and would be known for your comedy. Maybe you blow up as a meme at first and then you get into acting 💅🏻 and people are taken away by your skills and effort! You are effortlessly hilarious and yet intentional, and you’d be recognized for it. I feel you have a lot of charisma as a celeb too, because you’re natural at getting people to like you. You’re very good at conversation and with one conversation you’d have someone gripped. Especially an interviewer. I see a lot of people interviewing you & wanting to get to know you. Huge audience, and you love it all! Sometimes anxious, but eventually you and your PR form great bonds so they know when to pull you out 😂 but anyway, I feel like you’re a natural at understanding what to do, how to do it, and you’re overall amazing! You’d do wonderful in movies and tv shows! Some of ya’ll could also be a runway model, and behind the scenes your humor is what gets you noticed and you go on to have your own page, where you sell to your own fans any product 💗 and I feel like you’d keep a healthy distance with your fans! I also feel you’d have such a striking appearance especially your eyes, theres something very different and unique about the color or intensity. It leaves interviewers forgetting what they said 🤣 but they definitely are hooked! You have a lot of sex appeal and you may not realize it, but people do. People also create sexual fantasies of you in their mind & they daydream about you. You could take care of your body a lot and people admire that! Thank you pile 3 feel free to comment like or reblog! 💗🌟 thank yall so much!

Paid Readings 🤍✨

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eustasskidagenda · 6 months

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Hi! I love your writing! Can I ask some headcanons with Kid, Sanji, Zoro, Law et Luffy going to the beach with their S/O, please?? Tysm!

Hello sweet anon! Thank you for requesting, it was fun to write. Hope it will match your expectations ☆

☆ Kid, Sanji, Zoro, Luffy & Law going to the beach with their s/o

CW : g/n reader, funny, fluff, Kid is cursing but I guess no one is surprised, Kid is a savage, really vague mention of sex for Sanji, slight cursing for Zoro + mention of alcohol,

WC : 2,3k

Kid

Heavy stomps, mumbling curses, regular sighs and grunts full of irritation. Yep. It was your idea to go to the beach. Kid would never go to the beach by himself because he hates all the screaming children and the sand between his toes. And, the sun could ruin his make-up. So he would act all grumpy, wondering what he has done to end up in such a situation.

"Goddamn, y/n, come back, you didn't put your sunscreen" Of course Kid thinks about his skin all the damn time, he's such a beauty-influencer when it comes to make-up and skin care. If you neglect to apply sunscreen to your body, he will bark at you, grab you by the wrist, and do all the work himself. And then, you'll have to help him, especially when it comes to applying sunscreen to his back. He won't let you know he loves when you run your hands down his back and along his always tensed shoulders.

"I've seen this place before you, fuck off!" While planting violently your parasol on the ground, barking to the poor innocent guy who tried to set his stuff at the place Kid noticed in first. "It's my beach."

He's so possessive with everything, help.

Actually, Kid likes one thing about the beach: he can brag about his big man boobies. No shirt, just his glorious bare, toned chest. Every time someone looks at him with jealousy or admiration, he feels so proud; his ego is never satisfied with this. He's perfectly aware of how shaped his torso is, and he's really proud of it.

Every time someone looks at your body, he feels really pleased with himself. Even if they try, they won't be able to have you. But on the flip side, he's also upset when he realizes that everyone can see your beautiful shapes. His arm would be wrapped around your waist. All. The. Time.

Kid being Kid, he would smash all the sandcastle made by the children. Prepare yourself to get in trouble with all the mad parents around there, while their children are crying because "the big scary man told me I'm a piece of shit who don't even know how to build a sandcastle" You better watch Kid tightly before he stuffs their mouths with some sand to make them shut up.

"Come on Kid, it's just a child."

If you try beach sports, he will make everything a competition. Avoid playing volley beach with him, because if you team up and lose, he will smash the ball into the winner's face. "Now who's the loser?"

If someone tries to sell him an ice cream, he would scowls madly. Does he look like someone licking some fucking ice balls full of sugar? Ugh. It's so ridiculous.

He doesn't wear armbands because he thinks he's too good for them. "I don't care if I can't swim, I won't use those damn armbands."

Honestly, Kid hates how weak he is in the water, so he would stay away from trouble. The ocean makes his voice weak, even his strength is leaving him. And, even if his eyeliner is waterproof, he doesn't want to risk ruining his make up. "I fucking hate water"

Would end up using his DF to find some metal around and build something with it while you're swimming. It looks like he doesn't care, but secretly, he watches to make sure you're safe. And if you're drowning, then, he'll run to save you so yes, congrats, now you're drowning together.

Luckily, Killer is not too far.

Killer deserves a break.

Sanji

Oh, damn... going on a beach date with Sanji is not a good idea. All the women in swimsuits would overwhelm him. Sanji, as he is, wouldn't be able to handle all the women around him, even though you are the prettiest of all the people around.

But the moment you take off your clothes and replace them with your swimsuit, his eyes would be on you all the time because you're the most mesmerizing person in the whole universe.

He's so proud to introduce you as his s/o to absolutely everyone, yes, even that one person sleeping peacefully under their parasol. "Have you seen how beautiful y/n is?"

Of course, he would help you apply sunscreen to your skin. Enjoy the massage because his hands are so heavenly smooth and divine. He would clearly take advantage of the situation to place some soft kisses along your collarbone, shoulders, neck, jugular, and down your spines.

It's clear that Sanji brought his own food to the beach. You can enjoy fresh drinks, ice cream, waffles, cakes, fresh salads, and juicy fruits just for you. He wouldn't let you buy some ice cream from the trader because it's probably disgusting, full of sugar and chemicals. Your body is a temple and cannot be contaminated by non-premium quality food.

He's probably causing the parents to be angry because he's smoking. But Sanji is nice, so if it was asked politely, he wouldn't mind stubouting his cigarette.

While you're tanning under the parasol, Sanji is probably laying next to you, with a book explaining all the fish he could buy in the town.

If you decide to go swimming, of course, he's going with you. As the kind person he's, he wants to make sure you're safe, and if you uncomfortable with your body, he wouldn't mind using his own body as a shield, so no one but he can look at you.

He's a pure romantic, so prepare yourself for some lovely hugs in the water, with him holding you tight and his hands roaming all over your wet skin. Sweet kisses on your neck. He's not against taking things further, but he's romantic and all the screaming children are ruining the mood. But during the night... yes, he's definitely not against swimming at midnight.

And if he finds some ugly, green, gummy seaweeds, then, he'll take them back to the Sunny. "Marimo, don't let your children alone at the beach."

Zoro

"Oi, y/n, where are you?"

Well, have you already seen Finding Nemo? Remember about Marlin always asking "HAVE YOU SEEN MY SON?" Now, you're Marlin and Zoro is your Nemo.

Do not leave him alone for more than two seconds. Do not leave him buying ice cream for the two of you. Otherwise, the date is ruined. The only thing you will do is ask everyone 'Have you seen a big man with big boobs and green hair?'

Maybe he'll find the one piece before the end of the day.

"I wasn't lost, your indications weren't clear."

Zoro's obliviousness means you need to pay close attention to him. Stay close to him and everything will be okay. He's in good shape, so people are probably looking at him with admiration, jealousy, or whatever thoughts come to mind. But he doesn't give a damn, and is probably thinking people are looking at you because you're mesmerizing in your swimsuit.

He doesn't care about the people wearing swimsuits around him. It's not an event for him. "I won't nose bleed like this shitty twirled-brow."

He thinks the beach is a good opportunity to train himself. While you're relaxing under the parasol, he's training in the sun. Burpees, push-ups, and even some yoga are used to work his breathing and stability.

Once he's done, he's all sweaty and wants to swim a bit. If you don't follow him, he'll be swimming until he finds a new island.

If you're too lazy to swim, he'd be okay with carrying you. If a jellyfish tries to bite your thigh, then, the poor creature is doomed and would end up as a dinner for the crew when you'll get back to the Sunny.

He prefers alcohol over ice cream, of course. It's the best thing to enjoy after swimming and training. While he's drinking, he likes when you rest your head against his chest. On the other hand, he's a bit flustered because Zoro cares about his privacy. But you're too cute, he can't push you away.

Arms wrapped around your waist while you sleep together. Perfect date for Zoro: training and restlessness. No one would dare trying to steal your stuff because Zoro is used to standing guard on the Sunny, so he would react really quickly.

At the end of the day, he got the biggest sunburn ever because he forgot to apply sunscreen. Poor Zoro.

Luffy

It's like going to the beach with your overly excited dog.

He's yelling excitedly, jumping everywhere, laughing loudly, and oh, good luck, he's already running away. You tried to catch his wrist, but it just stretches his arm beyond its limits. Good luck in finding him.

Well, honestly, if you want to find Luffy, just try to figure out where the food is. He's probably eating some waffles and ice cream, or more precisely, emptying all the stands of their food.

"Oh Y/N, you're here?" He speaks with his mouth full, obviously.

Luffy is selfish with food, but he would let you have the last waffle because he loves to see you smile.

As Zoro, he doesn't give a damn about people in swimsuits.

If a child has a better rubber ring than him, he's sad. "Y/N, we need to buy a better one! What about this one?" While displaying an extravagant beetle rubber.

He's so happy, with it. Prepare yourself to pull him out the water because while he's watching to find some fish or play with some seaweeds, he would end up falling overboard like the overexcited child he's.

But drowning wouldn't destroy his joy. Be ready for the sandcastle episode after the rubber ring one. He wants to build the best one. But have you seen his nonexistent artistic skills? His creations wouldn't look great, that's all we can tell. Please, help him building a pretty sandcastle, he's so sad. Poor baby.

"Don't get a sunburn, y/n." While lending you his straw hat.

"Y/N, have you seen those crabs? Y/N, have you seen how funny this seaweed is? Y/N, have you seen this stone? Oh, Y/N, this cloud looks like Zoro, don't you think?"

He wants to catch all the crabs and winkles he can find. And would probably end up organizing a crab fight. If his favorite one loses, then the poor baby will be sad again. He's so fluffy when he pouts.

He is eager to try and do everything with you. So you better follow him, because going to the beach with Luffy means you'll never be able to rest peacefully under the parasol. He's too energized to sleep peacefully.

And if you're sleeping, he would bury you under the sand, so when you wake up, your body is totally covered up, the only thing you can do is moving your toes and head while Luffy laughs loudly and proudly. His laugh is so endearing, you can't be angry with him.

"Gum-Gum… ice-cream stolen"

Prepare to run away from the guy who is mad at him.

Overall? Not relaxing at all, but funny as hell.

Law

If Luffy is like an overexcited dog, Law is like a cat forced to bathe. Have you already tried bathing a cat? Do you end up with scratches? It's nothing compared to Law.

"Bepo, don't sharpen your claws on the deck!" "What? But it's not me. It's Law, Y/N decided to bring him to the beach. They had to drag him to the ground.

Yes, Law probably hates the beach. It's a noisy place with noisy people, the food smells bad, the children are annoying, and the sand is irritating. And please, the sea is like the toilet for the fish and all those disgusting people. He's so pissed off to be here.

"Why me, Y/N-ya?"

"Aren't you happy? The sun is beautiful today! You need to take some breaks from your work."

His sole response would be an annoyed scowl.

Ain't no way for him to wear a swimsuit. He's conserving all his clothing, even the hat. And he's standing under the parasol with his arms crossed. All the people around are probably avoiding him, and that's for the best because a 'room, shambles' could happen really fast if they dare to make a comment about his non-appropriate clothes.

Law would remind you to apply sunscreen on a regular basis. And he wouldn't mind applying it himself. He loves the feeling of your skin against his palms, it feels like heaven.

He would remind you to drink water frequently. And to wet your neck before swimming. Certainly, he's watching closely the entire time. He may be mad, but he cares about you. Prepare yourself to have a shadow following you everywhere. If you're too far from him, he'll use his DF to bring you back to him.

"Please, help me, my child needs a doctor!" He's annoyed as hell. Even at the beach, work is still pursuing him. Of course, if someone asked for a doctor, he would help. He's frustrated because he can't take care of someone and keep an eye on you at the same time.

If you give him onigiri, he will look like a child: pouting while eating silently.

"Y/n-ya, don't touch this, it's a toxic seaweed.", "y/n-ya, come here, you have to stay hydrated."

He would lend you his own hat if you forgot yours, while he's standing under the parasol. "Do not lose my hat."

No swimming for him. He'll stay away from the cursed water. Just like Kid, ain't no way for him to wear armbands. And if you Try to throw some water on his face, he would look like a wet cat: shocked and angry. Beware, he yowls.

Overall? You had fun. And even if Law acts annoyed all the time, secretly, he would love to have a break day with you. On his desk, he would keep the beautiful shell you found on the beach and give it to him.

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stellar-skyy · 5 months

Text

COURT GOSSIP — Furina x reader.

i. SUMMARY: Fontaine has a lot to say about Furina's lover. (Now with a part two!) ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: Very very slight spoilers for the 4.2 archon quest, brief use of pet names (darling). iii. NOTES: Angst, reader doesn't actually make an appearance but they are talked about throughout, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 2.1k words. iv. A/N: Angst bc i lost the 50/50. This probably isn't as good as I wanted it to be, but I'm tired and I was sick of rewriting things.

They called the relationship a lot of things. Scandalous, shocking, shameless. Shameless wasn’t the right word. Furina had plenty shame, but the taste of love had left her too excited to worry about repercussions. Careless, was more accurate.

If she had more care, she would be home by then, curled around her lover, laying with her ear pressed to their chest so she could hear their heartbeat. She wouldn’t be pacing back and forth and wearing grooves into Neuvillette’s office’s carpet.

“It is going to be alright, Lady Furina. Sit down.” Neuvillette said calmly. He was sitting still, hands folded in his lap, and to the ordinary eye he looked perfectly at ease. But Furina hadn’t spent five centuries with him without learning his mannerisms. The stiffness in his shoulders, the twitch of his eyebrow, the way his words sounded a touch too sharp; it was obvious he was just as concerned as she was.

“It’s not! Do you know what they’re saying?” Furina hissed. She threw the newspaper across his desk, letting it land in front of him with a smack. The photo of the two of them—her arms wrapped around their neck, while they kissed her cheek—took up almost the entire page, only broken up by the title.

Exclusive: Who is Lady Furina’s secret paramour?

“I must say, this is quite a poorly titled article.” Neuvillette frowned, looking closer. “The word ‘paramour’ is archaic by itself, but more than that it already implies a scandalous relationship. The word ‘secret’ is superfluous.”

“That’s not the point!” Furina practically wailed. “Look at what they’re saying!”

“Hmm… ‘Who is this mystery partner, and how did they catch the attention of the Archon herself? Is this unknown lover strategically targeting Lady Furina to attempt to obscure the justice of Fontaine?’ Ah, I see. They believe your partner to be seeking you out to gain influence of the court system.”

“How dare they! To think they would stoop to such a level to accuse my—”

“It is alright. I have already scheduled an official announcement to acknowledge the concerns and quell the rumours.”

“It’s not only that! The people are losing their respect.”

“…I am afraid I do not understand.”

“For me! They—” Furina halted. “I—I heard them today. They think of me as just some love-stricken girl. Archons above—” Neuvillette chose not to point out that she herself was an archon. “I couldn’t stand it...”

⋆ ✩ ｡ ° ✩ ° ｡ ✩ ⋆

It had been a pleasant morning; so pleasant that once Furina had detangled herself from her partner’s arms, she decided to take a walk.

As she strolled through the streets, the sounds of the city beginning its day and the singing of birds mingled together in a strangely beautiful symphony. They competed for the attention of whoever happened to be listening, with songbirds chirping and crooning from the tops of buildings, directly above the sounds of vendors and other salespersons trying to sell their products.

“Fresh lavender melons, straight from Inazuma!” A fruit-seller called, holding a basket filled with bright purple fruits.

Ah, Lavender Melons. They were a fairly new sight in Fontaine, only appearing after trade with Inazuma was reestablished. Perhaps she should purchase a bunch.

“Extra, extra!” a young newsboy yelled out, waving a newspaper above his head. “Read all about the latest Fontaine news, from the Fontaine Gazette! Hear about the case that divided the Chief Justice and Lady Furina!”

The newspapers were always embellished, but the Fontaine Gazette was a particularly egregious example. Not a single word in that paper was without exaggeration. Though, it was entertaining at times to look over the stories and laugh about the incredulity of it all.

She strolled over to listen to the boy’s calls, idly looking past the rows of newspapers and magazines. She withdrew one from the stand, a gaudy looking magazine with bright red headlines screaming in her face.

The Spina di Rosula in shambles! it shrieked. Such a crude form of entertainment, the misery of others. It was good Fontaine had enough reputable newspapers to drown out the crows and calls of garbage like that.

“Extra, extra! Lady Furina has a secret lover? Read all about it here!”

In a second, the magazine in Furina’s hands slipped onto the ground, and she felt her breath catch in her chest.

She had to have misheard him; it must be a terrible mistake. She’d been too careful to hide them from the spotlight, keeping them away from the public’s claws. If they’d been discovered, the media would stop at nothing to tear them to shreds. Not to mention how she’d look if their relationship was found out—the Archon of Fontaine, falling head over heels for a mere mortal.

Furina had snatched the paper right out of the young boy’s hand. As he started protesting, she quickly threw a handful of Mora at him and bustled away to read the paper. Behind her, two ladies gasped and leaned over to whisper to each other.

“Is that Lady Furina?”

“I’m surprised she can show her face… I wouldn’t have the courage.”

Vultures, the lot of them! Had they no shame, gossiping about her from six feet away, like she couldn’t damn well hear them?

Their chatter faded to static and white noise in her ears, as the newspaper unfolded to reveal the story she’d been fearing. In it, the photo showed two lovers were caught in an embrace, one hidden in the other’s shoulder. The other was turned at just the right angle to show herself to the camera, grinning down at her partner with love in her eyes.

Furina stared in horror as her own face stared back at her.

⋆ ✩ ｡ ° ✩ ° ｡ ✩ ⋆

“Furina—Ahem, Lady Furina,” Neuvillette paused, blinking at his mistake. Oh dear. He must be on the verge of a breakdown, if he was already messing up her name. “We must begin the conference soon. Shall we leave?”

“I—I suppose that would be prudent,” Furina said shakily, straightening her back.

The trip to the Opera Epiclese was filled with silence. Furina stared at her hands in her lap, picking at the edges of her gloves, while Neuvillette gripped his cane tightly and periodically shot her concerned looks. The only words that were spoken were after they had arrived.

“Are you ready?” Neuvillette asked, hand curled around the curtain separating their backstage room to the front balcony.

“No,” Furina whispered hollowly, before smoothing her features into neutrality and stepping onto the stage.

“Hello, my dears.” Her lips moved of their own accord; voice disconnected from her mind. “I am here to address some rumours you may have heard. If you have been following the news, you would know that some pictures have been spreading of me and another individual. Since then, there has been a number of gossip floating around the court, very little of which is based on fact.”

“Tch, she’s already trying to avoid the blame.” A particularly loud audience member commented, loud enough for Furina to hear. She hesitated for a moment, before continuing.

“This person is as many have suspected,” Furina breathed out. “A romantic partner.”

“Ms Furina!” A young man—notebook and pen in hand; a reporter, likely—yelled out. Furina bit back the haughty That is Lady Furina to you on her tongue. Arrogance wouldn’t serve her well in this performance. “People have been saying that this ‘lover’ of yours is a threat to the integrity of the justice system. How do you respond to the allegations that they are using you to sway the court?”

“T-That isn’t true! They—”

“How can we trust the Palais Mermonia if the Archon is being influenced?” A voice in the front row whispered loudly to her friend.

“If she’s that weak to the charm of a random person, then what does that say about her judgement?” Another responded.

“I—” Furina stuttered out. “P-Please, calm yourselves! I can explain myself if you just wait—”

“Is this really what Fontaine is coming to?” That pesky reporter yelled out, only stirring the chaos further. The courtroom erupted into noise, all overlapping opinions drowning out any conscious thought of hers.

“Childish—”

“Unprofessional—”

“Not fit to lead—”

“—If she’s so distracted by love.”

If the first words were a punch in the gut, the last were certainly a strike straight to her skull. She flinched, her resolve cracking enough to let the throes of panic wash over her face. It was all too much: the lights, the noise, the audience.

But she was used to commotion. She had been acting for centuries.

In the drama, she had almost forgotten her place; the Court of Fontaine was her stage, and she was the leading actress. The citizens before her were the audience to her performance, and she was damned if she wasn’t to put on a show for them.

With a deep breath, she slipped right back into the façade, smoothing over the cracks in her mask with inhuman poise.

“They say the true tragedy of godhood, is one never gets the chance to live like a human.” Furina smiled coyly, playing up the eccentric goddess act that she had been cultivating for centuries. “So many experiences we are robbed of; growing up, falling in love.”

“You wanted to be human?” An audience member called out. Young woman, nervous expression. Perfect extra for Furina’s show.

She turned to stare her in the eyes, coy grin lighting up her features. “Tell me, dear. Have you ever had a lover of your own?”

“M-me?!” She squeaked. “Oh… I-I haven’t really had a girlfriend. B-But I have been in a… relationship of sorts.” The audience member spluttered and blushed. “A… summer fling, I suppose.”

“Well, wouldn’t I be a fool not to chase a summer fling of my own?” Furina tilted back her head with a laugh, letting her voice boom across the Opera with the confidence that left the audience hanging on her every word. “Oh, my dearest citizens. Do you think so lowly of me to think I’d let a brief bit of romance keep me from my duties? That I would be blinded by something so silly as love?”

“You don’t love them?” Another nervous audience member asked.

Yes, Furina wanted to scream. I love them more than I have ever loved anything in this world.

“Ah, love. Such a novel concept.” She loved them, she did. Oh, how she hoped they would forgive them for this. “The only love I hold is for my people and my nation! I need no lover, when I already have the love of my beautiful Fontaine.”

“I believe we have strayed off-topic,” Neuvillette said, smoothly shifting their attention to him. “The Court of Fontaine retains that this individual carries no influence over Lady Furina, the Palais Mermonia or the Fontainian justice system. This… relationship is something inconsequential that has no effect over Lady Furina’s work, and is not of a concern to Fontaine’s citizens.” Damn right it wasn’t their concern. “To put it frankly, this person is of no significance at all.”

Only Neuvillette was close enough to hear the sharp gasp that escaped her.

“This conference is hereby adjourned.”

They were going to hate her.

How was she supposed to look them in the eyes, after telling an entire courtroom that they were of no importance to her? The love of her life, the one who brought light into the world and a smile of genuine joy upon her face with just their presence. She imagined them watching the court; hearing her words, feeling them strike against their skin like blades.

They were going to hate her, and she would let them.

She would let them hate her, if it meant the public would forget their name. The moment they disappeared from the light, then the rumours would disappear just the same.

And a part of her—a small, barely noticeable, inconsequential part of her, but a part of her nonetheless—breathed a sigh of relief at the knowledge that her balance hadn’t been overturned. It was selfish, she knew that, and the thought disgusted her as much as it brought her comfort. That part whispered that it was for the best, not just for them but for her as well. Her reputation was secure, they were quietly pushed away from the light, and the scandal would die down quickly.

Furina stumbled backstage, stomach spinning. She leaned heavily against the wall, eyes squeezed shut, dreading the moment she would have to go home and face her lover after what she had done.

“Oh, darling.” She murmured. “Please forgive me.”

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

#✒️ — writing #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#favoniuslibrary #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #gi x reader #furina x reader #genshin furina x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #furina angst #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #furina x gn reader #furina x gender neutral reader

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theweeklydiscourse · 24 days

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It’s not Nara Smith who bothers me, it’s the people who suddenly develop an allergy to critical thinking the moment anyone points out that she’s a tradwife influencer.

Many people get aggressively defensive when you point out that she’s making money off of her TikTok account and selling a curated image. When people defend their uncritical consumption of her (and other influencers) content, they’ll talk about it as though her TikTok account is merely a hobby that shows her everyday life. They’ll say that we should respect her right to choose that lifestyle and that it just so happens to win her popularity and monetary gain.

“But feminism is about choice isn’t it? What ever happened to letting people enjoy things?”

No, feminism isn’t about choice and that’s why you learn about the harmful consequences of choice feminism in literally any introductory gender studies course. That mindset does absolutely nothing except uphold the status quo and discourage thinking critically about our choices and the societal factors that influenced them.

It’s no coincidence that this particular image of a beautiful, visibly affluent young woman with three young children is gaining popularity in our current political and cultural climate. It’s no coincidence that more and more influencers are buying into this specific image of the homemaking wife while obscuring the invisible labour that goes into such a task. It’s not surprising that in a time where women’s economic anxieties are growing, that the leisurely affluent lifestyle of an influencer homemaker is becoming increasingly popular.

#feminism #tiktok #Nara smith #tradwife influencers #TikTok discourse #intersectional feminism #choice feminism

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hitlikehammers · 2 months

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a Valentine's-flavoured cuddly-loose-lipped-secret-spilling-hopped-up-on-cold-medicine!Eddie

(and his ever-devoted boyfriend Steve who he's been crushing on since high school but that part's a secret was a secret)

for @thoroughlycollected: featuring the (actually kind of horrible) way schools would sell carnations for $1 or something for Valentine's Day to anonymously deliver to your crush

It turns out that Eddie under the influence comes in a variety of flavors.

High Eddie is languid, touchier than he’s normally prone to which is fucking saying something, and weirdly philosophical. He talks about alternate universes beyond the Upside Down as a meta-something concept. He theorizes how maybe he died in another dimension but some weird particle-subversion-something-something-whatever couldn’t survive re-sublimation in the Right-Side-Up and honestly when the big-brain bullshit skirts the edges of Eddie’s mortality Steve is here for all of none of that part, because Eddie’s heart was beating under Steve’s hands the whole goddamn time, sometimes maybe coaxed by Steve’s hands but from the moment Steve found him and Dustin to the moment he let go at the hospital he didn’t not feel Eddie’s heart beating, and he knew that not least because he would have come apart at the seams if that’s happened, he would have crumbled entirely for losing, or almost-losing, or thinking even close to losing the potential, the promise between them they’d barely skirted but that’d rooted heavy and at home in Steve’s chest already and fuck, fuck—

When Eddie philosophizes in general usually Steve just hangs on his every word, mesmerized by the beauty of him top of bottom, inside and out: somehow all Steve’s. But when his philosophizing leans toward that Steve’s own heartbeat does some weird shit that the weed can’t claim whole credit for and he grabs Eddie hard every time and kisses him until he’s dizzy with it, until they both are, until Eddie’s reduced just to blinking for at least five whole minutes and by that point High Eddie’s on to another topic altogether.

Which is for the best.

By comparison: Drunk Eddie is a lovelorn bastard, a little bit teary with it sometimes even, but always clingy and a touch extra possessive, sappier than he gets on even his most sappy days. One time he told Steve that no, he couldn’t let him go to take a piss because, and Steve remembers this word for word: there’s stardust in my body that’s in your body and that shit’s like magnets, Stevie, like magnets or whatever so my heart’s like pulled to your heart and if you go away without me ever you’ll rip my heart out—because like, a guy remembers that kind of declaration shouted into his ear over the music at a bar that’s safe enough that they’d get away with the excuse that Eddie was plastered, for the way he was hanging on Steve, but thank fuck the lighting was shitty enough that no one could see the flush on Steve’s cheeks, and thank fuck even more that no one could see his magnet-heart and how pounded something wild for the way Eddie draped over him and pressed full against his chest and nuzzled under his chin and made the kind of declarations that Steve had kinda been searching and hoping for all his life.

Drunk or not.

But then there’s another flavor, a specific one: and that’s medicated Eddie. And that Eddie, that cough-medicine-soaked-to-the-gills Eddie?

He’s an adorably giggly little fuck, is what he is.

“I’ll feel better by Saturday,” he lolls his head over to Steve’s shoulder where they sit beside one another, Eddie properly bundled in three blankets with a Sprite in hand. “Pinky-promise,” he slurs a little, but it might just be the stuffed-up nose doing the heavy lifting on garbling his words, and then fuck, of course the dipshit reaches up to seal the deal like the absolutely irresistible goofball he is, and always: snot-coated and all.

“Just rest up, babe,” Steve pulls him close with an arm around around his shoulder, dropping a firm kiss to his forehead: still warmer than Steve would like, in all honesty: “forget about Saturday,” and he means that with his whole chest, because fuck reservations and flowers and boxes of the chocolates Eddie likes best from the city—his boyfriend is sick, his boyfriend is hurting, and there is kinda not a single more important thing than that, than attending to that and making it hurt even the slightest bit less of he’s able, if it’s in his power.

“But we had,” Eddie sniffles heavily, loud and almost painful-sounding; “we had plans,” he whines, and turns toward Steve with overbright-eyes, far too watery:“our first,” he says it like it’s a heartbreak unto itself, bottom little quivering, and fuck.

Steve smiles though he hurts for Eddie right now so hard, want to take all the aching into himself it to spare this beautiful man for a fucking second, just he reaches and traces lilting patters around Eddie’s eyes, his browbone, his jaw, slow down to press soft at his lips:

“You not planning on having many more?” Steve asks soft, a little playful, a little leading: he likes to hear it, and often: that Eddie’s in this as deep and true and Steve is. For the long haul.

“All the more,” Eddie sing-songs sniffily, which is both pathetic and adorable, tugs at Steve’s heartstrings and the corners of his lips alike; “alllll of the more, Stevie-baby,” he draws out in promise, crosses his heart uncoordinated for feeling fuzzy with his cold and being fully cocooned in blankets and again: adorable and pathetic and perfect.

The man’s fucking perfect, even when he’s all stuffed-up and curled sick on the couch.

“Got you the best presents,” he adds on dreamily with a little chuckle, the high-pitched airy kind that float in the air between like bubbles; “so much better than all the other ones,” he adds kinda petulantly, pouts full around the words and maybe it’s the cough medicine, or the fuzziness Steve knows well comes with both the cold itself and the remedies to help alike; he brushes his lips against Eddie’s forehead just to be safe and Eddie giggles a little and leans full-bodied into Steve, unbalanced for the swaddling of most of his frame and that just makes him laugh all the more: he’s no more feverish than he had been, which was admittedly barely, just more than Steve liked, but: yeah.

Yeah, that’s…he kinda guesses it all could combine to have Eddie spewing kinda nonsense, and he probably should just smile and pull his boyfriend closer in his arms and cuddle him some more but he’s both curious and concerned, which turns out to be a potent mix, so:

“Other ones?”

“Mmm,” Eddie hums long and warm as he snuggles up to Steve a little closer, and Steve stretches an arm around him wholly, settles him flush to his chest: “but shh, don’t tell, okay?”

And Eddie sounds breathless, which piques Steve worry alongside the bright flush he finds on Eddie’s cheeks when he looks down: his eyes are fairly clear and…no, forehead’s still the same temperature, not clammy or anything, and Eddie’s just preening as he lazily tips his face up to receive more kisses, mostly unaware that Steve’s attentions serve any other purpose than loving on him.

And , well, no: they really don’t, it’s just the love’s multi-layered here, just now. It’s love, and it’s devotion, and it’s dedication to Eddie’s general wellbeing all wrapped into one. So: yeah.

“Swear,” Steve decides to play along, hoping for clues as to just how loopy Eddie’s ended up for one end of the sick-stick or the other; “what’s up, baby?” he draws circles over the harsh jut of Eddie’s clavicle, little massages that Eddie eats up with a dimpley grin as he sighs, back to the dreamy-tone again:

“Flowers.”

Steve buries a little smile into Eddie’s tangly tresses, because like…

“You got me flowers?”

No one’s ever really gotten Steve flowers.

“Noooo,” Eddie giggles and shakes his head under Steve’s chin as he buries closer into Steve’s chest, stretches Steve’s already mostly unbuttoned shirt out to damn well nuzzle the fuzz of curls beneath, and he makes this fucking…soft little half-whine that’s almost a purr, that vibrates straight through Steve’s ribs and his heart goddamn flutters, fucking hell—

“But that’s a great idea, can you remind Eddie tomorrow?” he pulls back with those fucking button eyes so big, as he talks about himself like he’s another person with such innocence then chuckles, burrowing against in Steve’s chest:

“I’d love to buy you good flowers, the nice kind, not the ones in a ten-gallon bucket sitting getting brown,” and his voice is all frown but…adorable, fuck, he’s such a fucking adorable drugged-up sicko, Steve can’t really handle this shit.

“And it was so sad,” he sniffles against Steve’s chest, and hell if Steve knows if it’s congestion or something like…mounting? Because he’s so sad? “The white ones, because they got brown so fast and, and,” and his words get caught up as his lungs rebel, as he sneezes, shakes from his core and Steve’s hands grab for him, tighten around him fiercely and Eddie gives into that protective instinct in Steve like clockwork, magnetic and automatic and Steve loves him so goddamn fucking much.

He presses his lips to Eddie’s temple as Eddie catches his breath and groans a little; kisses his over-warm skin just because.

“Carnations,” Eddie sniffles once he gets his bearings back enough; “are symbolssss,” he draws out long like a sloppy hiss; “of devohhh,” and he coughs a little, and pouts at being interrupted so he huffs heavier on the last syllable: “shun.”

De…devotion? Fucking…carnations?

Shit, Steve hasn’t seen a carnation, at least not knowingly; not since—

“And white ones mean pure,” Eddie rambles, all nasally but indignant anyhow, somehow; “so white carnations would be pure devotion,” and Eddie untucks himself from Steve’s chest for a second to look at him straight on with a little wobbly grin.

“You didn’t even notice, did you,” Eddie says, and there’s no sadness in it; but fuck, Steve…

Steve might fucking, like, start fucking crying.

Because he knows exactly what Eddie’s talking about, now.

“I noticed,” because it was the fucking carnations, the last time he thought about them: Hawkins High School, where they decided to hold up the horrible preteen tradition of anonymous flowers delivered for Valentine’s Day, so three people could be reminded they were the top of the fucking food chain with a pile of crushed flowers still dripping from their buckets of water, the little colored-paper tags soggy with the writing unreadable, while the rest of the school got to feel less-than when they got nothing, and Steve got more than his share even in the years after he toppled from on high in the social hierarchy, but they’d never mattered to him, they’d kinda made him feel uncomfortable. Except—and he could never explain it, but it was predictable, it happened every fucking year—in the collection of reds and pinks there was always one that stood out, all on it’s own.

A white one; Steve never even caught that they’d gone brown at the edges.

“Every year I noticed,” he exhales, and breathes Eddie in from the top of his head because, because—

Every year? Meant…meant every year. Freshman on up.

“My heart used to do this thing,” Steve murmurs against Eddie’s scalp, kinda; and yeah, it’s basically doing the same goddamn thing right now, a little trippy and dizzy and just…it’d scared him a little.

He recognizes now it’s how his chest feels when what he’s doing, where he is, who he’s with, who he holds inside tight close with him: it’s how his chest feels when what he’s doing is right.

“When I saw the white ones,” Steve whispers, and kisses against Eddie’s hair again, and again, because god; “only one person ever sent those.”

“Sometimes I’d have to run, like, hide in the gym showers so no one would know it was me,” Eddie matches his whisper, almost conspiratorial as he reaches out for Steve hand and Steve’s more than happy to meet him, to grasp tight, so tight; “hated gym, did you know that?”

“Oh, I had no idea,” Steve deadpans as he nuzzles Eddie’s hair, while Eddie goes back to nuzzles his chest, and Eddie’s breathing starts to even out and Steve thinks maybe he’s asleep, but then—

“Stevie?”

“Yeah, baby?” Steve wraps his arm around Eddie a little tighter.

“You’ll remind me about the flowers?” he asks, so goddamn soft; “wanna buy the best white carnations you’ve ever seen in your whole life.”

And Steve promises, yeah, of course—except: he kinda thinks maybe he already got the best ones years ago, again, and again.

He won’t discourage more of the very best, though, so long as Eddie’s the one next to him, handing them to him face to face, no hiding anywhere, just: them.

Pure devotion.

✨ ao3 link here

permanent tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #established relationship #established steddie #domestic fluff #valentine's day #sickfic #but like: eddie's a sniffly-cuddly-bundle-of-cough-medicine #and steve is a doting and caring and adoring boyfriend about it #secret time: eddie's been crushing on steve since high school #high school carnation sales #secret admirer #happy ending #or: happy-SAPPY ending #stranger things

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xiakato · 10 months

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Interview With The Pop-star - KARINA

“Giselle has great taste in her toys,” She crosses her arms, a smirk plastered on her beautiful face, “always the best.”

“Nice to meet you too, Karina,” You sat across from her, your own skin became milky over the weeks as you adjusted to your new lifestyle.

“So proper,” She giggles, leaning forward giving a good view of her cleavage, “She told me how good you are, made me even want to give you a ride.”

“I’m honored but we have things to do before I would even consider that,” You place down the recorder, “Now, Karina, let’s start with the interview.”

“Are you going to ask the same boring questions you asked Giselle because if you are, I’m leaving.”

“Who’s your favorite prey?” You watch as a sadistic smile crawls on her beautiful face, her fangs slightly grazing her lip.

“Male Idols, so easy to entertain, so easy to drain them of the tasty blood coursing through their veins. They usually are the sweetest, besides children but I don’t go for them. I have morals unlike that crazy one that runs that orphanage.”

“Who runs the orphanage?”

“Oh sure that you will meet that beauty soon, truly sad she’s a bit crazy. Well more than a bit crazy.”

“I see, tell me about your turning,” You watch as her carefree attitude shifts, the air is tense.

“It’s nothing special,” She shifts in her seat, appearing to be uncomfortable under your sharp gaze. You study her body language, the picking at her nails that only started when you asked her.

“If it isn’t anything special.. Why won’t you tell me?”

“I’m sure Giselle already told you, after all she’s the one that turned me,” Karina’s eyes shift from side to side, avoiding yours.

“She hasn’t told me anything, so tell me,” Your eyes slightly glow under the low light, something you learned that you had to influence other vampires. That whoever gave birth to the heinous thing you’ve become deemed worthy to control over those unworthy. She stops shifting in her seat, staring into your eyes like a deer in headlights.

“H-how do you have the power of an Elder?”

“It seems that I’m a favorite,” You simply smile, “Now tell me.”

“It’s not so simple as being a favorite Y/n,” She looks worried, worried for you? Not in the slightest, worried for yourself. She only ran into Elders, a handful of times during her years lurking in the night. The terror, the fear she felt in her veins, as their eyes stared down at her like she’s the lowest form of life, “How Y/n?”

“You certainly like to throw my name around,” The glow gets brighter and her attitude dims.

“Sorry, sir,” Her voice was a fraction of what it was at the start of the interview, “To answer your question. It was winter of 1758, it was the Joseon period under the rule of King Yeongjo. I was working hard, taking any job I could get even if I had to sell myself to politicians. Earning money for my little brother. You see, he was sick so I tried my best to earn enough for his medicine,” She looks up at you, you simply nod along, listening to her, hanging onto every word that comes from her. She sits on her hand to stop picking at her nails, “Until one night, I met her, Giselle, her skin as white as the falling snow. She said that she could cure my brother, of course for a cost. She turned him into a vampire and gave him to her, the one that runs the orphanage. She turned me to one as well, so she could have someone to hate her as much as she hates herself.”

“Have you seen your brother since then?”

She nods, “He works for the crazy one, as her butler of sorts.”

“At least you’ve seen him,” You smile at her, watching her cheeks turn slightly red.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure Jimin,” You turn off the recorder, placing it in your pocket.

“Why do you have the power of the Elders?”

“I don’t know, it was something that I figured out I could do, Giselle seems to know something but of course you know her never saying anything.”

“You’re going to have to be careful, vampires like you come around before. They were killed quickly as they threatened the hierarchy.”

“Of course I will be, thank you for the warning Jimin,” You pat her head as you walk towards the door. She grips on your sleeve.

“Aren’t you forgetting something Sir?” She asks looking up at you, her shining brown eyes clouded with the vampiric lust you’ve grown accustomed to.

“What might that be?” you ask even though you knew the answer, you wanted to hear her say, beg for it.

“Fuck me,” her voice dripping with lust, as she pulls you towards the bedroom. Her skirt finds itself on the floor within a few seconds. She soon joins it, kneeling down in front of you stroking you through your trousers. Her eyes half lidded, you feel her hot breath as she kisses your shaft as she unbuckles your belt. Pulling them down, she smiles as she comes face to face with your cock, “I’ve been wanting this so badly,” She peppers kisses down your shaft, “So big and thick,” She licks back up to your tip. Her soft hand slowly stroking as she watches you, “I need this in me.”

“I don’t know if you do Jimin,” You smirk as you watch her perfect lips pout, her hands still stroking.

“Just call me how you want to, don’t hold back sir,” She slaps her cheek with your cock, “Call me a slut, call me whatever you want Sir, make me your toy please I need you to.”

You can’t help but smile down at her, your eyes glowing bright red, “Suck it,” You command her, she smiles brightly yet shakes her head, “Suck it, little slut,” She takes you into her mouth, her spit dripping out as she opens her mouth, her tongue swirling around your tip. Her eyes close as she takes in your taste, her moans as she takes in deeper and deeper into her mouth and throat. You watch as she masterfully takes care of you, leaving no inch of your cock left untouched. Her eyes open as she takes you fully down her throat, no gag reflex as she stares up at you. She smiles as she pulls your cock out.

“How’s that Sir?” She asks as she kisses your tip repeatedly. You pull her up to her feet by her hair tossing her onto the bed. Her giggles fill the room, her excitement shown as she lifts her ass in the air for you. Looking back at you, you can see the expectation in her eyes, “Please Sir, fuck me please!”

Her pussy glistening in the light, waiting for you to stretch her. Your cock slips in with ease, you watch as she grips onto the sheets. Her moans fill the room as you get your rhythm, “Fuck,” You mutter under your breath, gripping onto her ponytail.

“G-give it to me Sir, Please I want you to break me please~” She pleads, you piston into her watching her ass bounce as you fuck her.

“What a dirty slut,” You scowl as you pull harder on her ponytail, making sure she feels every inch.

“Only for y-y-y-you, I’m your slut,” Her arms give out, you hold her upper body up by her ponytail, as you feel her body start to shake, her pussy tightens as she squirts all over the sheets and the floor.

You let go of the ponytail, taking in the sight under you. One of the most sought after idols in the industry, underneath you shaking like a used slut. You slowly thrust into her as she comes down from her climax.

“F-f-fuck,” She manages to get out as she looks at you from the side of her eye,”Give me that cum Sir, please fill me to the brim.”

Not one to leave a request unfulfilled, you start to piston her into the bed, her pussy tightens around your shaft. She takes you dare you say better than Giselle does, her hands grip onto the sheets till her knuckles turn white. She bites onto the pillow as she feels you reach every depth she thought no one could get to. Her eyes roll back, your hand gripping onto her hips, pushing down giving yourself more room. You push, to what she thinks is to her womb, filling her with rope after rope of your cum. You slowly pull out as she shudders, smiling as she feels your cock rest on her ass, still hard.

“Sir, how about you join me in the shower and I’ll get you nice and cleaned up, yeah?”

#smut #kpop smut #aespa #yu jimin #aespa karina

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1-danid · 10 months

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Dating Teen Vi

Dating Arc 1 Vi would include..

Vander loving you as another kid. You may have your own patents but he still sees you as one of his children. Meaning he gives Vi the talk instead of you because he feels she'll need it more.

Teen Vi is 100% shy when it comes to PDA. She will hold your hand in public but that's about it. On the rare occasion when she's a bit jealous she may give your check or lip a kiss but it's rare.

When it's just the two of you or 3 of you powder can see her soft side. She'd go all out and be attacking your face with kisses and love.

At this stage you guys wouldn't know your love language so expect a bit of everything at this stage as you're trying it all out for the first time.

I don't think she can cook, no one in that band can. So often you'd cook meals for the group and bake treats for her and Powder.

If you go on the "jobs" with the group, Vi would be protective of you. Yeah she knows you can kickass but she doesn't want to lose you or to get you hurt.

Also Mylo would be annoying cause she'd stop for a sec to admire your beauty and he'd be like

" I could do better than that. She's just showing off at this point."

You'd flip him off whilst flipping to another building. And when you get to wherever you are going to rob she'd let you take personal things for yourself and not to sell. Honestly she wouldn't care what you do she'd just watch you for a minute with a love sick smile on her face.

The others would 100% tease her about it. And she's blushing a bit and playing it off. They'd believe for the first few times until it becomes a daily routine.

She'd get you little gifts when you don't do jobs together and surprise you with them

If you don't go on jobs with the group you'd originally babysit Powder. Keeping her distracted and happy while the others are out risking your lives.

You weren't a fighter so you never asked to go to jobs. However you did learn how to treat basic ailments to help Vi and Claggor when they got badly hurt.

Vi would 100% get you little gifts from the jobs she does without you surprising you with them. She'd be like;

"We were out at this one house, and I saw something. It reminded me so much of you. It was perfect and beautiful so I thought you should have it."

And then she'll give you a beautiful necklace. Or something romantic that you appreciate because of your relationship.

You'd bake her cupcakes whenever she's had a hard day and you think she needs to relax. The two of you will just cuddle as you sing a soft song to her. For example, falling for you by peachy!

Because you're always baking her sweet stuff and 'cause she loves your cake and cups she calls you…

CUPCAKE

I'm not sorry for that. But on the note of pet name's teen Vi will call you anything to see you flustered.

She just loves you so much and you love her too

She’s definitely the big spoon and powder loves you more than vi (you didn’t hear that from me)

Like she see Vi as her hero but she sees how Vi looks at you and see you as Vi hero

You’re literally the coolest kid in Vander’s house

Plus you can work the bar, you have a lot of free time, so you’re able to earn a little for shifts at the bar

When Vi leaves powder behind you’d both have a big cussing 100%

Like you know how scared and confused Powder is and refuse to go and help because Powder needs support as well

Powder (bless her) would 100% influence you and beg you to bring her to the fight

One look at her puppy dog eyes, and you would cave and bring her in once she promises to stay hidden

You’d bring her and miss all the signs and when the bomb goes off, you’re their trying to protect her

Vi slaps (I refuse to write the p word) both you and her sister

Cue another heated argument you’d slap her back and cuss her out for touching you and Powder

And you’d break up.

So pissed you tell her to “fucking go to hell Violet.”

And she pretty much does, you’d try your best to comfort powder

Trying to stay strong for her, yet you’d let a few tears fall at your newly broken heart, your loss of home and your loss of your friends

You don’t notice Silco and when you do you don’t trust him fully.

But you know you and Powder need a place to stay so when he accepts Powder’s hug, you lower your guard

Moreso when you see a familiar face, passed out Sevika eases your nerves

You never do find out what happened at the warehouse, but you do know you lost everyone except Powder

You wonder if you’d ever see Vi again as you take on the older sister responsibilities for Powder’s sake

A/N

I hope you enjoyed this. I feel its better than the version i posted last time. To old moots this is not a goodbye. THIS IS A REVAMP!!

TIL NEXT TIME MY LOVES

-Dani

#‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ dani writes ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿#vi league of legends #vi arcane #arcane vi #arcane vi x reader #vi arcane x reader #vi x reader #vi x fem reader #arcane x female reader #vi masterlist

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skyepixels · 1 year

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Respect PartyCoffin's Wishes and Privacy!!!!

If you have seen @partycoffin's latest post, then....right now, I really feel for them. I just saw their post now.

There's so much I want to say, but I feel that even words of positive reinforcement aren't going to help them through this.

But I can say something to the people, the fandom, who are part of this, who have helped make Welcome Home what it is now.

Please respect their boundaries and their rules of engagement with Welcome Home. Period. To go even further:

If you see a fake social media account posing as them, report it on the website you found it.

If you see someone selling merchandise, report their account too. No matter how much you want their merchandise, it doesn't help @partycoffin or the fandom to do this.

Give them the time and respect they deserve. They are a person; they have their own boundaries, and if you have any ounce of care in you, you should respect their wishes.

Even if it means that they have to take Welcome Home off the Internet entirely and let this rising fanbase die, then that is what I will respect because I do not want them getting hurt in the process.

Tiktok, I feel, is the worst factor in all this, not because of the people creating beautiful or meme-like work but because of how the platform's algorithm works in sharing content that you've viewed, connecting it to what your friends viewed, and I've also noticed A03 being a terrible influence on NSFW content too, and it honestly breaks my heart to see it.

Yes, this is the internet, the wild west of memes, rule 34, and an incredible lack of privacy. You can inevitably expose yourself to many dangers and unwanted attention by sharing something you love with the world. They cannot control everything they see, but you can control what you see and change things!

Most importantly, we participate in a parasocial relationship when interacting with @partycoffin, meaning that no matter how much we love and care about them, we will never honestly know what they're dealing with daily or who they are as a person! Parasocial relationships have boundaries, and that means giving them the space to recoup, be offline, and not interact with their communities.

Welcome Home has given me joy and love for many personal reasons, even though I don't know the characters yet! But if it dies due to a lack of boundaries and respect for its creator, then so be it. I will treasure my time with their story as it sits and, like time itself, move forward, remembering this story as a beautiful possibility of hope and love rather than one of hate.

#Using every tag I can to get this out there!!!!#partycoffin #skyepixels #welcome home #welcome home fandom #welcome home wally #welcome home arg #welcome home theory #welcome home fanart #welcome home puppet show

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lisaiese · 29 days

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Penacony, Art Nouveau & Art Déco

As a Cultural Heritage major, it was inevitable for me to notice the huge Art Nouveau and Art Déco influence in Penacony.

The most evident example is Robin's poster:

It is reminiscent of artworks by Alfons Mucha (1860-1939), who often drew illustrations for advertisment, for example Bière de la meuse (1897), created to sell beer. Robin's poster is also an ad, which serves to promote the singer and her next performance for the Charmony Festival.

We can see the detail of the hair: in both illustrations it is observable how the ends of the hair curve in almost a decorative manner. In addition, both the figures are accentuated by the use of a thicker countour line.

Next, I wanted to point out the overall architecture of Penacony (particularly the architecture in Golden Hour).

Let's start by saying that Art Nouveau has its basis on a movement called Arts & Crafts, invented by William Morris (1834-1896). Morris wanted everyone to be able to own beautiful and durable objects (somewhat going against the values of the Industrial Revolution) and so Arts & Crafts was born. Therefore, Art Nouveau is mostly known for its decorations, architectures, jewels, furniture, vases, lamps etc. Art Déco can be considered an off-spring of Art Nouveau, as it spread in the 1920s and became the style to go in the USA in the 30s. The main difference between the two is that: Art Nouveau is more graceful, "spring-like" and utilises more sinuous lines (in fact, Mucha is Art Nouveau), while Art Déco is more geometric and is characterised by stronger colors.

For instance, the grand theatre in Penacony and the other structures/objects in the following pictures can all be considered Art Nouveau, let's compare them with real life examples of Art Nouveau:

And these can be considered Art Déco:

To conclude, I love how Penacony was created, both on the stylistic aspect and the gaming mechanisms aspect (like, the 3d rooms are so cool). I just wanted to write about the fascinating artistic references in Star Rail, it's just a natural consequence of the fact that I am majoring in Cultural Heritage I suppose.

#honkai star rail #star rail #hsr #mihoyo #hoyoverse #penacony #robin hsr #art #art nouveau #art deco #1900s art #architecture #ignore me ranting about my special interests

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tbposting · 8 months

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As I get older I realize more and more how incredibly helpful it was for me to get exposed to queer erotica when I was young. Had some friends who were furries and through them I got to see various kinds of queer erotica, which sexualizes and loves the human body in such profoundly different ways than cishet porn and erotica does.

It was helpful because it helped chip away at the idea of normativity, the idea that there is one central ideal towards which all things must strive.

Not in a "queer porn made me enlightened!!!" kind of sense, but in the sense that once the time came that I was ready to start confronting my internalized self-hate and body shame and insecurities, I had some ammo to work with. I wasn't going up against it alone - I could point to this art - gay male art, lesbian art, furry art, art from the transgender perspective, all of it - and know that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

I still had to do some work to accept it, and internalize it, but I could know because I had evidence that, yes, there are people who desire bodies like mine, and who love those bodies earnestly and viscerally.

And regardless of whether I am attracted to those people in turn, whether I want to date them or sleep with them, it means that that insidious little voice which is drilled into the back of our heads telling us that our bodies do not meet the standard of quality that qualifies us for love is, quite simply, wrong. Beauty ideals are not a universal value, and they arise from no necessary truth or rational principle, they are a series of deliberate choices made by cultures, influenced by the culture's values.

And when that culture is struggling with a history of white supremacy, with a history of systemic sexism and homophobia, when that culture is dictated in large part by the whims and interests of billion dollar corporations intent on selling Products & Services™, the choice of beauty ideal is neither neutral or healthy, and you can unmake that choice for yourself, and find something better.

Anyway, I guess my point is that porn is good for you actually, especially the gay stuff. Replace all the Marvel movies you watch with filthy Ao3 fiction and furry smut.

#inb4: none of this is an argument that you should enjoy being fetishized #inb4: I am extremely obviously kidding with that last line leave me alone #give disney as little space in your head as you can though; they hate your body literally no matter what it looks like #also i do not want to hear any fucking thing about “evolutionary biology” on this post sit your asses DOWN when the humanities are talking #“um actually humans genetically prefer symmetry since it indicates fitness” no we literally do not have you ever met a real person #humans stumble ass-backwards into one another's orbits; we are at the mercy of our strange gravities #have a fucking experience; make yourself a person not a statistic #tb blog

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 9 days

Note

If I may add my two cents about the Coral Sea thing

I think the cities that are closer to the surface and in brighter areas, like the city with the museum Yuu and co went to, are much safer and less deadly since they are tourist heavy spots and well, you don't want to scare off tourism income. They aren't perfectly safe of course, but safer. And I think those areas are also heavily influenced by human/beastman culture and preferences (*cough* also beauty standards *cough*)

And the cities that are deeper down, with little to no tourists from up above, are much less serene and a lot more dangerous. The culture of "kill or be killed" is much more prevalent, but there is still a societal structure.

[Referencing this post!]

Yeah, I think that’s a fair view that considers both perspectives while also still adhering to the general “rules” of the TWST world (ie there is a degree of real-world logic in how cultures develop).

This take would also make sense when put alongside in-game lore dropped about coastal areas and relations improving ever since the mermaid princess and human prince’s union. According yo Floyd’s Beach Wear vignettes, merpeople sometimes emerge from the sea and do trade with stores and businesses set up near them. A lot of these areas developed kind of a “touristy” culture themselves and sell food, land accessories, and souvenirs for merpeople to take home with them. (The twins’ parents even partake in this!) Land creatures like humans gain profit from this tourism and merpeople get to know more about another world. That means that not only does land culture have its ways of spreading and influencing the merpeople, but the merpeople also have ways of influencing how land culture changes too. This reciprocal, “goes both ways” relationship is indicative of how cultures irl influence one another through their interactions. It’s very interesting to think about!!

The proximity to land probably also plays a role in how the different areas of the Coral Sea are shaped. The photic zones are closer and hove more “direct” access to new ideas. Meanwhile, the benthic zones are farther away, so it’s more difficult for land influence to trickle down there since it’s a challenge to meet with and learn directly from those same land creatures. Maybe a human drops a trinket all the way to the bottom of the sea and a merperson picks it up + wonders about it, but that’s basically the full extent of the exchange. A merperson would have to be curious and actively go out of their way to learn and be a “part of that world”, as it were, such as via the land boot camp program or going up to explore the shoreline themselves.

But of course, even if the dangers in the immediate area increase (thus forcing adaptation to this harsher environment), that doesn’t make the merpeople in one area “less civilized” than those in another area, humans, beastmen, or fae. Merpeople are still people, and they have their humanity and their own social structures and civilizations, regardless of photic, benthic, or what have you.

#twisted wonderland #twst #Jade Leech #Floyd Leech #Tweels #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #twst theory #twst theories #twisted wonderland theories #twisted wonderland theory

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dresshistorynerd · 1 year

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Favorite Historical Architectural Styles

Since I've done my favorite historical fashions, I thought it would be fun to do historical architectural styles too. I want to write more about architecture too, but I've started thinking should I do a separate blog for architecture and architectural history or should I just do it all here? I think it would be better in a way that I wouldn't have to worry if anything I want to write is too far from the actual topic of the blog, but then again, there is a lot of overlap, especially when it comes to Arts and Crafts movement (which I'm currently writing my thesis about and which I definitely will talk a lot about), and also I would have to manage yet another blog.

Anyway, I'll again do this from oldest to newest. I will limit myself to western styles (except when we get to Modernism all styles are very international), even though there's a lot of non-western styles I enjoy, but it's what I know most about.

Perpendicular Gothic

I love Gothic architecture in general and the several first entries will be my favorite sub-styles of it. I love the the way Gothic Cathedrals try and so often succeed to feel like forests. I love how the structural elements are used to create the aesthetic. I love the organic visual elements. I love that it's such a unique style in Western architecture. And I love the amazing craftsmanship that went into it.

I'm particularly a fan of English Gothic because of it's insanely beautiful and complex ribbed vaults. From English Gothic my favorite though is the Perpendicular style, which was basically the English late Gothic. It's characteristics can be seen in the second pic. It has the stretched arch and the very flowing and organic traceries. I do include here the rest of English Gothic too, since even though the Perpendicular style is my favorite of them, all if it is still one of my Gothic favorites.

German Late Gothic

As it's becoming clear I love Late Gothic architecture in general the most, and in the geographical axis I also love German Gothic. Early and High Gothic were mainly divided into French and English styles and the French style dominated in the continent, just being altered a little to the local building traditions outside of France, but during late Gothic it diverged much more strongly into different styles.

German Gothic also has beautiful complex faulting (though less insane than English) and it also has that same pursuit of massive height French Gothic has. Those combined with that Late Gothic's more streamlined flowing and organic aesthetic, some of the German Late Gothic cathedrals really sell that feeling of standing in a forest.

Finnish "Gothic"

I have a soft spot for the Finnish Medieval stone churches, which are not nearly as sophisticated or detailed as the other European counterparts, but still made with beautiful craftsmanship and they have some cool own features. It's very far from the European Gothic traditions, as you can see, but that's still the influence, hence Gothic in scare quotes. I love the simple outward appearance with the exposed thick stone walls, the details of the gable that worked as the calling card for the building master and the very steep roof. Like everywhere at the time, the roof in these has wooden structure, which is frankly super cool. It was not a simple engineering problem to make a roof that steep and massive at the time, but the structure works so well there's 600 year old roofs with the original logs still working perfectly well. I also really love the original medieval murals in them, which were painted over during the Reformation (you can't have color in a Lutheran church damn it), but thankfully some of them have been restored from under the paint.

Finnish "Renaissance" Log Churches

Renaissance also didn't land in Finland similarly as it did rest of the Europe. When Renaissance was going on in Europe, they still were building those "Gothic" churches here. These log churches were based on Scandinavian version of the Renaissance church, but they didn't really look like Renaissance churches, and were kinda it's own thing continuing a lot of the aesthetics from those Gothic churches. This is a highly specific style, but I just think they are so cool and pretty? Like they really made a CUPOLA out of log.

Arts and Crafts Movement

Arts and Crafts Movement didn't have exactly a style, rather a design philosophy that was more important than specific style. There's of course a lot of stylistic similarities in the works of the different members of the Movement, because they had overlapping sources of inspiration and were influenced by each other, so we can think of it as a style. I could, have and will talk about them for hours, but briefly now: It was a moment in latter half of the 19th century and early 20th century and their goals were reviving craftsmanship skills and professions, socialism, opposing industrialism and abolishing the hierarchy between fine arts and applied arts. They were very much influenced by Medievalism and Gothic art and architecture, though unlike Gothic Revivalist, they took more from the guiding principles than the aesthetics. They basically started Modernism and lay ground to all the Modernist architecture's main principles, like form follows function.

Art Nouveau

Art Nouveau was directly influenced by the Arts and Crafts Movement and was the first mainstream Modernist style. I especially love the more toned down Finnish Art Nouveau, or Jugend as it's called here, but I do love the style more broadly too. I'm not that into those almost Baroque style versions of it though, with barely any straight lines. I love the round doors, the stylized floral patterns and the use of light.

Organic architecture

This has to be my favorite modernist/post-modernist (?) style. It's direct successor of Arts and Crafts movement and it's also more of a design principle than a unified style. There is some stylistic similarities, but it is stylistically very diverse philosophy. It was most prominent during the 20th century, but it always stayed in the sidelines, though there are still architects who might be considered practicing organic architecture. Organic architecture is all about living in harmony with nature, taking inspiration from it, designing the building to fit the building spot and the surroundings, extra care taken in to preserve the nature already there, and using local natural materials when possible. My favorite architects are Raili and Reima Pietilä, who were most prominent organic architects in Finland. (I almost moved into apartment designed by them, but it was in pretty bad condition, so it wouldn't have unfortunately been worth the price.)

Brutalism

I know it's not for everyone and it's not easy to make it work but when it works, it really does. It was born in 1950s during the reconstruction era. Brutalism is not just concrete though. The point is to show the raw materials and the structural elements. Technically a lot of Gothic and Arts and Crafts architecture is then brutalist. Timber frame architecture? Also brutalist. I'm only half joking, of course the style itself is also very bare and, well, brutal, but I love it for the same reasons. I really love bare textures of materials and exposing the materials of the structural elements. And I do actually really like the texture of concrete. Though I will say concrete is destroying our world and we should use it as little as possible. But we should also protect old buildings and keep using them rather than built new ones, so I feel fine admiring the old brutalist buildings. The best brutalist buildings combine materials very intentionally and make works of art with the light.

Bonus - Favorite contemporary architecture: Traditional methods

As we're living in the post-modern times, there's not really unified and specifiable styles or architectural ideologies anymore. They all kinda flow into each other and architects don't organize themselves into clear groups based on style and design philosophy. So it's hard to put into words the style I like in contemporary architecture. There's been growing interest in studying traditional structures and methods, learn from their sustainability and incorporate them into contemporary architecture. They are techniques that have been developed through trial and error on the span of centuries, so we really don't have to reinvent the wheel here. Traditional methods of a given area have also been developed for that area and it's climate, from the materials available there, so they also push us to use local materials. Typically these traditional structures are very simple, often made from solid material, which makes them easier to built without construction error (a huge problem in modern structures), and easier to fix and maintain, when inevitably there is issues. Also they are beautiful, definitely more so that steel and glass. I love solid brick structures, log structures, timber frames, natural stone, rammed earth and all of them, especially when these beautiful materials are left bare.

#architecture #architectural history #historical architecture #history #art history #modern architecture #gothic architecture #brutalism #arts and crafts movement #art nouveau

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