#//capping at 4! unless i feel like more

[littledovesnow]

a growing family | part 4

a/n: the finale!!!! i had so much fun with this mini series, i hope you love it!

warnings: childbirth (but traumatic), idk... hospitals? inaccurate medical stuff (i worked in a hospital but i don't know shit about medicine!!!!)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

-----

Following a few Peacekeepers back to the train, you and Coriolanus talked softly about the conclusion of the tour.

“How did you like to see my old stomping grounds?” He asked, referring to the quick stop you two had made in the Hob so you could use the restroom.

“It certainly looks like the place that could draw a crowd.” You smiled, thanking the Peacekeeper as he helped you into the train.

Coriolanus walked dutifully as you more-so waddled down the aisle to the private car. “Are you feeling okay?”

He had noticed you taking more breaks while walking, discomfort on your face.

Nodding, you toed off your shoes and lounged with your feet on the opposite bench, letting your husband rub them once more. “Just ready to get these babies out of me. I feel like a beached whale.”

Coriolanus laughed, looking out the window as the train began the two-day journey back to the Capitol. “I’m sure they’re excited to be out in the world, have more space to move.”

You snorted, letting your head roll back and lean against the plush booth. “How long do you think we have until they come?”

“A couple more weeks, I hope. It’s still a little early.” Coriolanus chuckled as you let out a moan when he got a particularly rough knot out of your foot. “What are you thinking for dinner tonight, my love?”

You two continued the conversation while you both watched the trees go by, content in your last days alone.

-----

The following morning, you woke before your husband, smile coming to your face when you saw the Capitol’s skyline in the distance.

Slowly rising from the bed, you paused for a moment when the world went off-kilter.

You stood and walked over to the exit of the private car, moving into the dining one for something to drink, never understanding why your mouth was so dry when traveling on the train.

 “Goodmorning, ma’am. How are you feeling?” A Peacekeeper asked, soft smile on his face as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Tired. How about yourself?” You replied, eying the mug of coffee with envy.

You two kept a quiet conversation until the door opened once more, Coriolanus entering the car.

“You could’ve woken me; I would’ve gotten you something to drink.” He chastised, pressing a soft kiss to your head.

Rolling your eyes, you smiled as the Peacekeeper left to give you and Coriolanus some privacy. “Coryo, I’m going to be holed up in a bed for weeks in a few days, let me get movement while I still can.”

Coriolanus tsked as he looked over what would be served for breakfast shortly, smile coming to his face when you pulled his free hand into your own, fiddling with his wedding band. “How are the babies doing?”

Shrugging, you looked out the window as the snow-capped mountains drew nearer. “They’re getting anxious, certainly hope they’re both in the correct position now.”

Coriolanus chewed on his lip as he hummed in agreement, not wanting you to experience surgery if it could be avoided. “We shall see, you’re meeting with the doctor the day after tomorrow, correct?”

Nodding, you sipped the tea that was placed in front of you. “Unless I go into labor beforehand.”

The elephant in the room was finally mentioned, and Coriolanus’ frown returned.

“Coryo, you know as well as I do that there’s a high possibility we’ll become parents before the end of the week. I want as much as you do to wait until it’s safer, closer to the due date, but twins come early a lot.”

Nodding, the blonde took a long sip of his coffee. “As long as you’re all okay, that’s all that matters.”

-----

You woke to a loud screech, groaning into Coriolanus’ chest as the train stopped moving, stationed back at the Capitol.

“Good morning, welcome home.” Coriolanus whispered, voice hoarse with sleep.

“Good morning, Coryo.”

Both of you getting up, albeit you at a slower pace than Coriolanus, there was a small crowd cheering when you two disembarked the train, publicity-trained smiles on both of your faces.

Several reporters for the Capitol News had come to the station, vying for questions about the tour and wondering it’s success.

You sucked in a breath while Coriolanus spoke with Lucky Flickerman, keeping your face neutral as you interrupted the conversation. “Excuse me, Lucky, but Coriolanus and I have prior engagements we need to get to.”

Coriolanus sent you a look as you dragged him away from the cameras. He leaned down to ask you a question, voice soft to keep it off of the microphones. “What are you talking about?”

Looking up at him, you sent him a tight-lipped smile. “I’ve been in labor since four this morning. We’re going to the hospital.”

-----

You groaned in pain as your OB/GYN walked into the room, smile on her face. “Didn’t think we’d be seeing each other so soon, my dear.”

“Well, we like to keep you on your toes.” You grumbled, letting out a sigh as the pain dissipated.

“Where’s Coriolanus? I expected him to be stationed next to you the entire time.”

Laughing, you watched as the doctor put some bands over the bump to monitor the twins. “He stepped out to call Tigris and my mother. He should be back shortly.”

Moving to examine you, you looked on the monitor to watch the babies’ heartbeats.

Coriolanus re-entered the room soon after the examination ended, smiling at the doctor when he noticed her, though when he saw the tears brimming on your lash line his smile dropped. “What happened?”

“Baby B is still in a breech position, we’re going to have to do a C-section.”

At the doctor’s repeated explanation, Coriolanus was next to you in an instant, clasping your hand in his own. “It’s going to be okay, dove. You’ve got wonderfully trained doctors, the best in all of Panem, you’ll be fine.”

It felt like a whirlwind while you were being prepped for surgery, contractions getting worse as time went on.

Coriolanus stood next to you, wanting nothing more than to help take the pain away, willing the pain away.

“Mr. Snow, we’ll be going to operating room shortly. We don’t normally allow this, but you are able to sit in the surgery with us. Meet your children.”

You frantically looked up at Coriolanus, nodding rapidly. “Please, please Coryo. I need you, I can’t- I don’t want to do this alone.”

Coriolanus nodded, allowing himself to be layered in the sterile gown and booties, nerves skyrocketing as if he was the one on the table. “You’ll be okay, my love. It’s going to be okay.”

There was an oxygen cannula pressed against your face, IV into your arm, short curtain set up on top of you, inhibiting your view of the doctors at your other end.

Coriolanus pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, salty with the sweat still beading along your skin.

You felt the pinprick of a local anesthetic, the sounds of medical instruments being picked up and jostled, and the low voices of the surgeons and doctors birthing your children.

“You doing good up there, Mrs. Snow?” One of the surgeons asked, glancing up at your stats.

You nodded, too afraid to speak.

“Alright, let’s meet Baby Number One.” Your OB/GYN smiled, and a piercing cry erupted into the room. “Welcome to the world, Little Girl Snow.”

“A girl, we have a girl, Coryo.” You looked over at Coriolanus, ignoring the pressure in your head.

“We have a girl, love.” Coriolanus smiled, tears threatening to spill over.

You heard one of the machines behind you beeping more incessantly, the voices of the doctors growing muffled and distant.

“Coryo, some-something’s wrong. I feel- something is wrong.” You mumbled, words slurring.

Coriolanus felt his heart drop onto the floor at your admission, head snapping to the doctors who had started to rapidly soaking blood up, and he could pick out a few phrases from their rapid chatter, the words “obstetric hemorrhage” sending chills down his body.

“What’s wrong, what’s going on with my wife?” Coriolanus yelled, terror on his face.

“Mr. Snow, you’re going to have to head to the waiting room.” A nurse spoke, ushering him out of the operating room.

He saw one of the doctors pressing his fingers onto the second baby’s chest, while a handful of other surgeons and doctors focused on you, and Coriolanus had never felt fear quite like this.

-----

Four hours had passed since you were ripped from Coriolanus’ sight, four hours since he last saw his children. “A boy and a girl, Mr. Snow. Congratulations.” The nurse had said, smile on her face.

How she could smile in the face of a man whose wife could be dead, he’ll never know.

Coriolanus’ knee was bouncing a mile a minute as he awaited any news on your state, on the babies, on anything.

“Mr. Snow?”

His head shot up when he heard a soft voice call his name, and he saw a nurse approaching, hesitant smile on his face.

“Is my wife okay?” He asked, eyes frantic.

Nodding, the nurse lead him to a private room, away from any prying eyes. “Mrs. Snow is stable. She experienced a large quantity of blood loss during the birth, but with some transfusions, she is stable and should wake up shortly.”

Nodding, Coriolanus let out a sigh. “The babies? Are they- can I see them?”

The nurse paused, and Coriolanus saw a tick in her jaw.

“What’s wrong with my children?”

“The boy, I’m not sure if you’ve decided on names yet, but the boy will need to be monitored for a few weeks here. His lungs weren’t as developed as his sister’s, but with some supplemental oxygen and time, he should be a fighter.”

“My daughter, is she okay?”

“Would you like to meet your daughter, Mr. Snow?”

The nurse lead him to the nursery, motioning for him to sit in one of the rocking chairs. “Newborns do best with skin-to-skin, if you unbutton your shirt, I can place her on your chest.”

Coriolanus quickly undid the buttons, ignoring the nurse’s gasp at the few bruises on his chest from back on the train, and gently placed the newborn in his arms.

The baby was smaller than he expected, having never held a newborn before, but he felt enamored by her, by his daughter. Already, he was wrapped around her little finger, wanting nothing more than to give her the world.

“She has her mother’s eyes.” Coriolanus whispered, soft smile on his face as he rocked slowly in the chair.

Looking up at the nurse, Coriolanus asked about you, when you would be awake and ready to meet the twins.

“It’s hard to say, some mothers wake up shortly after birthing. Others, ones who had complications not unlike your wife, it can be a few hours to days before they wake. Rest assured, your wife is being monitored closely, and you will be able to bring your daughter to meet her mother.”

Coriolanus nodded, blinking back the few tears that threatened to leak.

He was thankful you two had decided to have the hospital facility to sign NDA contracts, not wanting his soft side to be released to the public.

“I’ll let you two bond, just press that green button when you need anything.”

Coriolanus thanked her, looking down at the small baby in arms.

“Welcome to the world, little one. You and your brother aren’t going to have to worry about a thing, I’ll make sure of it.”

-----

Coriolanus looked at himself in the mirror of your hospital room’s bathroom. The man staring back at him did not look like the Coriolanus Snow who was on the presidential election posters that were recently debuted to the public.

No, the man staring back at Coriolanus had greasy, unkempt hair, stubble popping up along his face, and bags under his eyes. Tigris had stopped in with a change of clothing and something to eat, knowing her cousin wouldn’t eat if it meant leaving your side.

The twins were recovering well, the boy’s lungs growing stronger with each passing day.

You were now Coriolanus’ top priority, you still haven’t woken from the emergency surgery and complications from days prior.

The doctors were unsure of why you hadn’t woken yet, speculating your body needed more rest than you let on, the tour taking a toll on your body.

Coriolanus walked back to the chair on the side of your bed, cracking his neck as he sat down and took your hand in his.

“The babies are doing well, doctor’s speculate we’ll be able to take them home in a few days. We have to name them first, and I know we decided on what to call them, but it feels wrong to sign the certificates without you there.”

The blonde man had taken to talking about his day, explaining things the twins were doing, hoping you would wake up and respond to his ramblings.

The only response he got was the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, the only thing keeping Coriolanus sane.

A knock on the door drew Coriolanus out of his stupor, tight smile coming to his lips when he saw Tigris.

“How is she?” The older Snow asked, dropping a small box of baked goods on the table next to your bed.

“The same.” Coriolanus croaked, voice raw from the nights he spent crying, hoping you didn’t suffer the same end that his mother did.

It was as if Tigris could hear his inner monologue, as she hugged her cousin tightly. “She won’t be like your mom, she’s going to wake up, and she’s going to raise those babies down the hall, and she’s going to be your First Lady.”

Coriolanus nodded, dam breaking as tears escaped his eyes, racing down his chin to meet each other.

-----

Two weeks after you had become parents, Coriolanus had to make an appearance in public to show the Capitol he was still strong, and he would be Panem’s next president.

He was sitting next to Lucky Flickerman, answering lukewarm questions and entertaining the premise that he was running on a full night’s sleep, not the coffees he had been all-but bathing in.

While the show was at a break, one of the Capitol News associates came over to the two men, serious look on his face. “Excuse me, Mr. Snow.”

Coriolanus looked over to him, Lucky frowning that his story had been interrupted.

“Mr. Snow, I’ve just gotten a call from a Tigris Snow? She said that you’re needed at the Capitol Medical Center urgently.”

Coriolanus felt the blood rush to his ears as he left the station without a single look back, commanding his driver to what had become his second home at this point.

-----

Footfalls echoing off the walls, Coriolanus’ eyes were wide as he turned the corner and entered the room that had become familiar over the last weeks, the room seemingly brighter when he saw your smiling face back at him.

“Love.” Coriolanus sighed, rushing to your side, kissing you as if he was starved.

You kissed back just as eagerly, only breaking the kiss when you felt your stitches pull. “Hi, Coryo.”

“Hi, dove.”  

-----

a/n: the end <3 maybe you'll see this beautiful family in some future fics!

[heyitsmeyourfavoritechick]

* ˚ ✦Capricorn observation* ˚ ✦

• Like any earth sign they like a timeless look or something fitting to their environment (messy environment messy look, clean environment clean look, picking up what I’m putting down?)

It also kind applies to when they’re looking for love interests.

• Very “old school” probably has a collection of some kind, maybe along the lines of retro memorabilia or collections of antiques (that they only think looks good) or they’re place looks bare because they could never spend money on “that pointless crap”

(I’ve almost met a lot of Capricorn placements who collects comic books.)

• They could never spend large amounts of money unless it’s apart of their “whole master plan” aka they will do anything to get ahead in their job or career even if it means hurting your feelings or taking your position!

That’s earths sign kinda of competitiveness.

• I personally feel like thrifting was invented by a Capricorn or the Russian mail order bride service, both ends mean business for one common thing, not love…. But money.

In some cases it means love.

• Capricorn in love is like a strong tree trunk if you appreciate it enough and have enough patience.

Can you stay all 4 seasons?

• Can you handle a Capricorn’s depression or seasonal depression because they rather get the bag than celebrate holidays including if they live far away from family.

•Free time for Capricorn means learning/ planning how to get more money when they DO have free time (which is never, they’re always busy) or tinkering around trying to make something (crafty) or fixing something that needed to be fixed 6 months ago.

They procrastinate a bit here and there.

• Just like a cancer they like they’re space and personal space but not carrying they’re home on they’re back like cancer, that’s what they lack and leads them to depression, dating a cancer can help them gain that nostalgia back for them but won’t solve there depression! (Don’t use water signs as emotional body bags.

• They do love the used, daddy issues, mommy issues people, because earlier on their life or childhood they had to grow up fast and never really shown love or proper love towards them. So they do the same.

Whata cycle Capricorn!

• They mentally think like a teenager but have a body like a 80 year old. Having back pains in highschool? And problems with they’re knees?

• Do you have crooked teeth? Deep voice? Sometimes raspy? Small face features but a long nasal cavity? Did you ever have those gold/silver caps in your teeth while growing up?

• The males are into older women, and women are into younger guys.

• Shy when it comes to love but very confident when it comes to money.

• Once when you have everything why do you feel like you gotta keep searching?

•How does it feel to chase something you don’t even know what your chasing?

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Sundae Tropes - Milestone Event - CLOSED 🍨

Well, hello everyone! I can’t believe it’s finally happened but we’re celebrating a milestone! 300 followers?! Like what? I want to thank each and every single one of you for supporting my little blog. I love the interaction and going forward, hope to have more engagement with everyone. To celebrate, I thought I’d throw together a little event. This is intended to be an 18+ event, so minors MDNI. Welcome to Sundae Tropes! Open to all my followers and moots!

Give it up for the talented @actuallysaiyan for the super cute banner!

Rules

🍨 Make your sundae!

1. Pick a flavor of ice cream 2. Choose 1 or 2 toppings - One per group 3. Pick a man (or woman) from either Bleach or JJK 4. Please note the waffle cone option if none of the toppings appeal to you

So for example, your request could look something like Chocolate with whipped cream and caramel with Renji.

🍨Please note: Since this is meant to celebrate my moots and followers, I will not be accepting anon requests. Anyone who follows me and wants to submit a request, but are shy to have their name show up, please DM me, and I will add your request to the list and reach out to you separately when I’m done writing, without responding to the ask publicly. 

🍨 The reader will by default be written as female unless specified otherwise. Please have a look at my rules for characters I don’t write. All characters are either written as adults or aged up.

🍨Also, since each fandom has certain characters more popular than others, I’m capping the number of requests I receive for these characters. 

🍨This will be open for a week (closing April 12th). 

🍨I will be writing a good number of these and will be feeding all requests into a random generator to pick what order I’m writing these in. 

Flavors

Vanilla - High school sweethearts 

Chocolate - Boss/secretary

Strawberry -  Enemies to Lovers 

Rocky Road - Teacher/student

Cookie dough - Strangers in a foreign city

Coffee - Friends to lovers

Moose Tracks - Fake dating

Mint chocolate chip - Soulmates

Butterscotch - Forced proximity

Cookies and Cream - Marriage pact

Fudge - Captor/Captive

Peanut butter - Secret Billionaire

Butter Pecan- Love Triangle (pick 2 characters)

Birthday cake- Amnesia/Mistaken identity 

Cotton Candy- Secret Admirer 

Cherry- Return to hometown/reunion love 

Toppings (pick up to 2 - one from each group)

Group 1

Sprinkles - Threesome (pick 2 characters)

Whipped cream - Creampie, Breeding Kink

Crushed Oreos - Clit spanking, Nipple play, Bondage

Marshmallow -  Teasing, Edging, Toys

Kit Kats - Exhibitionism, Dirty talk, Hair pulling

Maraschino Cherries - Praise kink, Lingerie, Blowjob

Strawberries - Passionate/romantic sex, Emotional bond

M&Ms - Virginity loss, Soft sex, Sweet talking

Group 2

Banana - Doggystyle

Reeses Pieces- Cowgirl

Chocolate-covered pretzels - Missionary

Nutella - Butterfly Position

Caramel - Thirst Position

Gummy bears - Facesitting

Brownie bits - 69

Chocolate chips -  Lotus position

Kinks and fetishes not your thing? Want something fluffy and SFW? Add a waffle cone to any flavor! Pick a waffle cone prompt from the list below:

A waffle cone request could look like: Vanilla waffle cone #4 with Gojo

"I'm going on a blind date." "In hopes of them actually being blind?"

"Is there something I can do to make it easier?"

“Don’t you dare walk away right now!”

“Do you miss us?”

"I trust you with all of my heart."

“I have the feeling that you’re trying not to kiss me and I give you permission to just do it.”

“Do you want my jacket?”

"You're all my favorite things about the world concentrated into one person”

"You hugged me like your personal pillow."

“Oh, just shut up, I’m not blushing!”

“Morning cuddles are the best part of the day.”

“Of course I know the way you like your coffee.”

"My heart dances every time I look at you."

Why is your stupid face just so kissable?”

“Your laugh is contagious.”

"I never believed in love at first sight before I met you."

all dividers by @/ cafekitsune Prompts from @/ creativepromptsforwriting

[wishful-seeker]

Hi! Really like you "Tips on how to avoid being unintentionally ableist" post but is it possible to make plain text version?

Am not sure what the color text says

(Plain text just means regular size + no color text + not cap lock)

Of course! Here ya go:

Tips on how to avoid being unintentionally ableist:

1. When a disabled person says they cannot do something, and you wish to offer solutions, do not make a solution that involves them powering through pain, or something thats not accessible to the disabled.

Example:

Disabled person: "washing dishes hurts too much and i cannot do it."

Abled person: "what if you did one dish at a time throughout the day?"

This statement is not respecting that this disabled person just said they "can't". Always respect that. No matter how simple the task would be for you.

Example:

Disabled person:" i think ill use plastic silverware so i don't make dishes."

Abled person: "plastic is bad for the environment!"

This statement shuts down the most accessible and disabled friendly option that this disabled person can actually do because of the abled persons personal beliefs. This is not helpful, and ableist.

Better yet, instead of offering solutions, ask them directly "is there anything you need that you do not have that would help you do this?" This allows the disabled person to think about what would work, and they will always have a better idea of what would work than you do.

To add on to this, when we say we have no more energy to solve a problem or do a task, or change our lifestyle, we mean it.

2. If you feel discomfort when a disabled person is talking about their health, good and bad, that is ableist. Your discomfort is coming from a place that deams disabled peoples very existence as a bad thing and you need to fix that.

Example:

Disabled person:" this week has been rough pain wise, ive been through a lot, felt like my body was on fire. Lucky i got new meds though and i think they're helping!"

Abled person: "can we talk about something else, this is a bummer."

Disabled people should be able to exist freely without worrying about your personal comfort. Do you really think its appropriate to tell someone in constant pain that their life is making you uncomfortable?

3. Do not treat disabled people as tragedies, do not romanticize their old life or put their current one down.

Example:

Disabled person: "yeah my life is pretty difficult sometimes, ive lost a lot but i still have happy moments."

Abled person: "it makes me so sad to see what disabled people go through :(. You used to love rock climbing and running, i would love to see you move around more again."

This statement is putting more value on the disabled persons abled past, and ignoring their life as a whole.

4. Do not avoid speaking to disabled people because it hurts to see your loved one disabled.

For example: my grandmother avoids conversations with me because it hurts her to see me in pain. While she has good intentions it leaves me being unable to be close to her. This is very isolating to the disabled.

5. Do not stop inviting your disabled friend/loved one out even if they are never well enough to attend. Unless we specifically ask you to stop asking if we can go out, good chances are we want to know you still care because again, disability is very isolating.

6. When a disabled person says certain things in their health have gotten better or worse, do not challenge this because you don't see a difference.

Example:

Disabled person: "yeah things are getting a little better"

Abled person sees disabled person using their wheelchair like usual: "i thought you said you were getting better?"

Better and worse are usually small changes only the disabled experience, its not like abled people healing from a broken arm. Better to a disabled person could mean they can stand for 10 more minutes.

7. Do not expect disabled people to ever be abled again, and again, do not put more value on an abled life.

Example:

Disabled person:"I have been using a wheelchair for 2 years."

Abled person: "oh you're young, im sure you'll be walking around in no time!"

This statement invalidates and ignores the disabled persons current life by hoping they get a more abled bodied life. Its fine to hope disabled people get better, but you don't get to decide what better looks like.

Hope this helps, stay punk.

Is this okay?

[childes-w1fe]

♫𝑮𝑶𝑹𝑮𝑬𝑶𝑼𝑺♫ | Childe x Fem! Reader

❝𝙊𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙡𝙪𝙚 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚, 𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙄 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙞𝙚.❞ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

𓇼𓍢ִִ໋🌊🐚˖✩࿐࿔˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚

Attending a prestigious university near your hometown, you live alone in your mansion by the vacant, serene seaside. You spend your extra free time playing video games to distract the raging waves of your loneliness.

Your life hadn't been smooth sailing for the majority of your childhood, and now, you could finally thrive, peacefully.

However, when you arrived back home after another morning of classes, the normal comfort of your home was replaced with a cold-tense feeling that flagged every warning sign in your body.

So when a muscular arm held a cold-translucent spear up to your neck when you moved to exit, you slowly turned your head to look at your captor, ignoring the sting from where the water blade was beginning to draw blood.

A shiver ran down your spine when you caught a glimpse of bright ginger locks and ocean-blue eyes.

Now, you had a reason to be scared

𓇼𓍢ִִ໋🌊🐚˖✩࿐࿔˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚

❝Whisky on ice, Sunset and Vine— You've ruined my life, by not being mine.❞

𓇼𓍢ִִ-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

𝑨𝑼𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬✎

✧.*Thank you for reading my Childe x Female reader! Update times aren't confirmed, as I run on a schedule of when I can update. Please keep in mind that I'm currently in high-school and have many classes a day. One could even say I spend more time at school than I do at home. I am very busy and that's not even including what I have to to outside of school. Not to mention if I get sick, or my mental health. (I do have depression.) Also—please don't ask for updates, in a rude way, of course. I don't mind if you only ask once, as I will give you an answer anyway. 

✧.*I do not own Childe, or any other Genshin Impact characters included in this story. They belong to Mihoyo. Any of the art used in this story isn't mine unless I specifically state otherwise.

✧.*Trigger warnings will be provided at the beginning of each chapter. Including lime. I'm not so sure if I'll be writing lemon yet, but we'll see.

✧.*The reader in this story is female, or what you would call afab, and uses the pronouns She/Her and They/Them. If this doesn't apply to you, I apologize. As a Demi-girl, I feel more comfortable writing a female protagonist.

𓇼𓍢ִִ໋🌊🐚˖✩࿐࿔˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 

"Gorgeous," by Taylor Swift 

❝Whisky on ice, Sunset and Vine, You've ruined my life, by not being mine.❞

"Paper Rings," by Taylor Swift

❝I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings.❞

"Ocean Eyes," by Billie Eilish

❝Can't stop starin' at those ocean eyes. Burning cities and napalm skies—Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes.❞

"Bust Your Knee Caps," by Pomplamoose

❝Jonny don't leave me, You said you'd love me forever. Honey, believe me—I'll have your heart on a platter-❞

"Somethin' Stupid," by Frank Sinatra 

❝The time is right, your perfume fills my head—The stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue, And then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you"-❞

"High School Sweethearts," by Melanie Martinez

❝Can we just be honest? These are the requirements—If you think you can be my one and only true love..❞

"Do I Wanna Know?" by Arctic Monkeys

❝'Cause there's this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat-❞

"I Wanna Be Yours," by Arctic Monkeys

❝At least as deep as the Pacific Ocean—Now I wanna be yours-❞

"Supermassive Black Hole," by Muse

❝I thought I was a fool for no one—Ooh baby, I'm a fool for you-❞

"Panic Station," by Muse

❝Oooh 1, 2, 3, 4 fire's in your eyes—And this chaos, it defies imagination. Ooo 5, 6, 7, minus 9 lives—You've arrived at panic station.❞

"Teeth," by 5 Seconds of Summer

❝Call me in the morning to apologize—Every little lie gives me butterflies-❞

"Sucker For Pain," Imagine Dragons

❝Walk slow through the fire like, who gon' try us?—Take my hand through the flames—I'm a slave to your games—I'm just a sucker for pain-❞

"Him and I," by G-Easy

❝Cross my heart, hope to die—To my lover, I'd never lie-❞

"Animals," by Maroon 5

❝Baby, I'm preying on you tonight—Hunt you down eat you alive-❞

"Paralyzer," by Finger Eleven

❝Well, I'm not paralyzed, but I seem to be struck by you. I wanna make you move because you're standin' still. If your body matches what your eyes can do.❞

"Dance Macabre," by Ghost

❝How could it end like this? There's a sting in the way you kiss me-❞

"Kiss The Go-Goat," by Ghost

❝It ain't always what it seems—When you cling onto a dream—it ain't always there to please you. But he's the guy you wanna do—And you know that it takes two, luckily he wants to do you too.❞

"The Death of A Bachelor," Panic! At The Disco 

❝The lace in your dress tingles my neck, how do I live? The death of a bachelor—Oh oh-❞

"Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time," Panic! At The Disco

❝Five thousand people with designer drugs—Don't think I'll ever get enough—Champagne, cocaine, gasoline, and most things in between-❞

"Miss Jackson," by Panic! At The Disco

❝A pretty picture but the scenery is so loud—A face like heaven catching lighting in your nightgown-But back away from the water babe, you might drown-❞

"Wolf in Sheep's Clothing," by Set It Off

❝Beware, beware, be skeptical—Of their smiles, their smiles of plated gold—Deceit, so natural, but a wolf in sheep's clothing is more than a warning.❞

"Rasputin," by Boney M.

❝There lived a certain man in Russia long ago—He was big and strong, in his eyes a flaming glow-❞

"Killshot," by Magdalena Bay

❝Something chronic—Bit demonic—Sin and tonic—Stupid promise—Can you make my heart stop? Hit me with your kill shot baby-❞

"Smooth Criminal," Micheal Jackson

❝You've been hit by—You've been hit by a smooth criminal.❞

"I Was Made For Lovin' You," by KISS

❝I was made for lovin' you, baby—You were made for lovin' me. And I can't get enough of you, baby—Can you get enough of me?❞

"Island In The Sun," by Weezer

❝When you're on a golden sea, you don't need no memory—Just a place to call your own—We'll run away together—We'll spend some time forever—We'll never feel bad anymore.❞

"You Give Love a Bad Name," Bon Jovi

❝Shot through the heart—And you're to blame. Darlin', you give love a bad name-❞

"Maneater," Nelly Furtado

❝Everybody look at me, me—I walk in the door, you start screaming-❞

"Partners In Crime," by Set It Off

❝You'll never takes us alive—We swore that death will do us part—They'll call our crimes a work of art.❞

"Rock Your Body," by Justin Timberlake

❝Don't be so quick to walk away—Dance with me—I wanna rock your body—Just wanna rock you girl.❞

"Criminal," by Brittney Spears

❝But mama I'm in love with a criminal—And this type of love isn't rational, it's physical-❞

"Dangerous," by Left Boy

❝Dangerous, ooh!, that sounds good yeah—Talk to me baby, like I'm your dude-❞

"Once More To See You," by Mitski

❝In the rearview mirror, I saw the setting sun on your neck—And felt the taste of you bubble up inside me, but with everybody watching us, our every move—We do have reputations—We keep it secret—If you would let me give you pinky promise kisses then I wouldn't have to scream your name atop of every roof in the city of my heart.❞

"There's Nothing Left For You," by Mitski

❝There's nothin' left for you—Nothin' in this room. Try and go outside—Nothin' waits for you. You had it once before—Not anymore—So go on to that sweetheart's door and find a new you.❞

"Recently," by Liana Flores

❝Hand in hand—The flowers understand that we're fine, you and I—Hands are tied. I don't mind—I'll make you be okay—And frequently I picture myself walking straight into the sea, laughing as the waves come rolling to my knees—What a place to be.❞

"Here With Me," by d4vd

❝I don't care how long it takes, as long as I'm with you I've got a smile on my face.❞

"Golden Hour," by JVKE

❝I was all alone with the love of my life. She's got glitter for skin—My radiant beam in the night.❞

𓇼𓍢ִִ໋🌊🐚˖✩࿐࿔˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

𓇼𓍢ִִ໋🌊🐚˖✩࿐࿔˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚

⋘ 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡... ⋙

1%

15%

45%

85%

100%

ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ!

→𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : "Gorgeous," by Taylor Swift

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

❝You should think about the consequence Of your magnetic field being a little too strong❞

𓇼𓍢ִִ-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

𓇼𓍢ִִ໋🌊🐚˖✩࿐࿔˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦

Dust arose from the old book you opened, the pages were fragile from many years of wear and tear. 

You borrowed it from your family's overly large library, which looked like it belonged in a rustic castle, not a mansion located on a cliff near the sea.

Running your fingers over the decrepit pages, your eyes followed the faded words one by one.

"Το μέλλον," The title read. 

Despite only being 10, you were far more intelligent than most children your age.

You knew a few different languages and took multiple advanced classes in school. 

Though your family still didn't think you were good enough.

A frown spread across your face at the thought, the rainbow shimmer inside of your (e/c) irises, which your family also thought was odd, grew slightly cloudy.

Shaking your head to dismiss the looming sadness crowding your head, you looked at the title on the dusty book closer.

From what you could tell, the words read, "The Future," but in Greek.

Flipping through the pages, you skimmed over the sentences, seeing nothing interesting, until a certain tragedy plastered onto the top of a page caught your attention.

"The flood?"

Pressing the book harder onto the table, you leaned in closer, analyzing every word inked onto the paper.

Around 9 years ago, a disastrous flood wiped out a majority of the town you lived around 40 minutes away from.

Buildings were damaged, some almost beyond repair, and many families moved to get away from the aftermath. Others, however, weren't so lucky.

Nowadays, a town like yours, next to a large beach with white sands and crystal blue water, would be bursting at the seams with people and greedy contractors trying to sell out the locals. 

But the flood prevented that from happening.

And now, only locals remained in the now-rebuilt beach town, which looks almost brand new.

A major part of you was thankful for nature protecting your little slice of paradise from those who didn't belong.

The words on the pages described what happened during the flood in great detail, and the more you read, the more disturbed you became.

This book had to be multiple decades old, so why did it describe the tragedy so perfectly?

Lost in the rapid currents of your thoughts, the familiar sound of stilettos clicking against wooden floors startled you out of your daze.

You jumped and almost fell from the latter you were leaning against.

Jumping down from the latter, and almost twisting your ankle, you opened a random drawer at the bottom of the bookcase and shoved the book in it.

The large door to the library opened with a creak, as the sound of heels against the floor ceased.

"What are you up to?"

You turned around quickly, a guilty smile plastered on your face.

"Nothing Mother— I was just looking for a new book to read..." A worn-out sigh left your mouth, as your hands moved to brush the dust off of the expensive material of your dress.

She raised an eyebrow, a sour look overtaking her face. "Mhm. If only all that reading you've done would help with your studies." Your mother placed her hand on her hip, tapping her sleek-black stiletto against the wooden flooring.

You frown, feeling yourself lose patience. "Is there something you need?"

"It's Ma'am to you. And yes, there is. Your father is hosting a party with his colleagues and I don't need you looking trashy in front of business." She walks up to you as you back up into the bookshelf, cowering as you feel a manicured nail press against your shoulder.

"I've commissioned a designer dress for you, it's hanging in your room. All you have to do is to sit still and look pretty. Don't mess up."

Your frown deepens. "Yes Ma'am..."

She looks you up and down, the sour look remaining. "Good. Don't disappoint our family name."

Flipping her hair, your mother removed her nail from your shoulder, a crescent mark evidence of her anger, and walked away, not bothering to shut the door as her quieting footsteps furthered away. 

Sliding down onto the floor, you sighed, your silk dress draping around you and flowering onto the floor. 

"What I'd give for peace."

𓇼𓍢ִִ໋🌊🐚˖✩࿐࿔˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚

After some time on the floor to regain your bearings, you dragged yourself up, exiting the library and walking up a flight of stairs to your room.

Despite your parents' coldness toward you, your room was beautiful and made you feel at peace every time you were in it.

Your bed sat at the bottom of your room, and a spiral staircase led to a second floor where your vanity among other things was.

A dull murmur left your mouth, as you opened the door to your large walk-in closet and flipped the light on, your eyes landing on the dress that lay on your closet's island.

Stepping closer, light and almost unsure, you admired the dress, eyes twinkling at the pretty fabric.

Even if you felt bitter towards your parents, you couldn't deny their obvious talent in fashion. 

Against the light from your closet, the shimmery silver fabric or the gown sparkled, along with the light tint of (f/c) covering the material. The top of the dress fit a modest sweetheart neckline where the sparkly fabric was crossed over the other, with off-the-shoulder sleeves that draped off the shoulders from the excess material. A dark silver belt wrapped around the waist.

Smiling brightly, you picked up the dress and twirled around, an energetic giggle leaving your mouth.

"Maybe today won't be so bad after all."

Setting down the sparkling gown, you pulled the zipper down on the dress you were currently wearing and pulled it over your head, tossing it onto the floor to focus your attention on your new dress.

You patted down your petticoat and turned toward your attention to the gown lying on your island, carefully undoing the zipper.

With barely concealed excitement, you slipped the gown over your head, putting your arms through the sleeves and fixing the dress over your petticoat. 

Your breath halted as you slowly walked over to the large mirror at the end of your closet.

The dress fit you perfectly and shimmered every time the light hit it, resembling a diamond in the sunlight. 

A wide grin spread across your face as you clumsily stumbled out of your closet, leaving the door open and the lights on, and dangerously rushing up the spiral staircase in your room. 

You approached your vanity and plopped down in the chair in front of it, opening one of the drawers and grabbing a few makeup products out of it. 

A lopsided attempt at doing your makeup, you noticed, groaning and rubbing more eyeshadow onto your eyelid in an attempt to fix your mistakes. 

Though you were better at most of your age makeup, you still had a lot to learn.

A knock on your door startled you out of what you were doing, and you almost dropped the brush in your hand. 

Your eyes widened and you placed the brush back onto your vanity, almost falling out of your chair. "--Coming!"

Shifting came from behind the door as the knock increased in volume. "Ms. (Name)? Are you alright?" 

The voice coming from the hallway caused you to sigh in relief. 

Untangling your leg from the chair, (a result of not paying attention to your surroundings,) you walked over to your staircase and carefully, this time, walked down to your door. 

You grabbed the door handle and opened the door, coming face to face with your maid, Arabella.

"I'm fine Ari–what's with that face?" 

She stared at you with wide eyes, before her face twisted in a way that made her look like she was in pain. 

Covering her mouth with her palm, she averted her eyes, attempting to not laugh at your predicament. 

"Arabella?"

Arabella shook her head and calmed herself down, sighing and stepping toward you, placing a hand on your shoulder in sympathy. "Ms. (Name)...while I don't doubt your talents for a moment, I do believe you need some help with your makeup."

Now it was your turn to stand there fish-eyed. 

Bashfully, the floorboards seemed most interesting as you looked at the floor, nodding in embarrassment.

She smiled at you and grabbed your hand, leading you up the stairs and guiding you to sit in front of your vanity. 

"I'm guessing you favor a certain color, hm?"

Recovering from your embarrassment, you nodded, grabbing one of your many eyeshadow pallets and opening it to point at your favorite color. 

"What a wonderful choice. This color suits your complexion."

Arabella grabbed a makeup wipe and held your chin as she wiped your makeup off in a gentle manner. 

"Now–let's start fresh."

Grabbing a brush, Arabella began to lightly apply makeup to your face.

You hummed in pleasure at the soft motion, feeling yourself becoming sleepy. Who knew getting your makeup done could be so relaxing?

With a swift hand movement, Arabella applied a small amount of eyeliner over the shimmery eyeshadow you were wearing and then spun your chair around to face the mirror of your vanity.

"You can open your eyes now Ms. (Name)."

Peeking your eyes open, you grinned widely, beaming at the beautiful art on your face. 

Arabella noticed your silence and began to worry. "Do you like it? I can redo it if you don't–"

"I love it!"

You rushed and engulfed her in an energetic hug. 

She stumbled in shock before laughing and hugging your back, patting your head. "Now Ms. (Name). Let's not mess up your makeup just yet."

A huff left your mouth as you snickered, "Alright," you paused and let go of Arabella before smirking, "By the way, you can just call (Name)."

Arabella gaped before shaking her head. "Ma'am–"

"I see you as a friend. There's no need for formalities." 

She gave you a warm smile. "Alright then, (Name)." 

You giggled and she flicked you on the nose, rolling her eyes playfully. "It's almost time for you to greet your family's guests."

The calm expression on your face dampened and you frowned. 

Arabella noticed your discomfort and gave you a reassuring smile. "You'll do great, I know you will," Reaching into the pocket of her apron, she pulled out a necklace and placed it against your neck," If it helps, I found this on the floor of the library when I was looking for you. When I saw it I immediately thought of you."

You looked down at the necklace and gasped when you saw a beautiful white-gold ring, set with large ruby crystals in the center and adorned with a few navy crystals along the rim. Flipping the ring over, you looked at the band, which had a narwhal carved into the thick part of the back and the letter A carved into the thin part of the band. 

It sat perfectly on your collarbone, and the weight of the metal felt like it was meant to be there. Not to mention how the ring felt warm against your upper chest, and when you tried to remove it, frigidness would wash over you.

You smiled genuinely at your friend. "Thank you, Ari. For everything."

She pinched your cheek and lightly shoved you towards the door. 

"Don't mention it." Arabella brushes off your dress and tucks a wild strand of your hair behind your ear. "Break a leg."

The nervous smile on your face shifted into one of confusion. "What?"

"It's an expression. You'll do great anyway, I know it."

Before you could press her even further, she pushed you out of your room and shut the door behind you. 

A shaky sigh left your mouth and you made your way down the hallway, walking down two flights of stairs and reaching the entrance to the living room. 

You spotted your mother's authoritarian figure standing in front of the doorway, arm linked with your fathers, who was laughing proudly, raising a glass of whiskey to toast. 

Slinking quietly toward the entrance, you tried to slip inside to a corner where you wouldn't be noticed, but when your heels made a noise on the floor, your mother's sharp icy blue eyes turned towards you.

She gave you a look and you begrudgingly walked up to stand beside her.

A fierce whisper left her mouth. "You're late."

You gulped, cold sweat began to form as you could feel her free hand wrap around your wrist, her sharp nails threatening to break the skin. 

"But you didn't say when to—"

"That's enough. I don't want to hear your excuses. The only thing you can do to atone for your mistakes is sit still and look pretty. Got it?"

"Yes, mother.." You nod, tears threatening to ruin your makeup.

"Good."

She released your wrist, but the mark remained, already red and irritated.

Your father had finally finished his speech and looked toward where you were standing. He seemed surprised to see you there but frowned when he saw your watery eyes. 

He unlinked his arm with your mother and placed a hand on your shoulder, patting it softly. 

You smiled through your tear-blurry eyes.

Everything would be okay.

𓇼𓍢ִִ໋🌊🐚˖✩࿐࿔˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚

The party had ended after a few more hours after the tipsy stragglers left. 

With a renewed pep in your step, you gratefully left the living room, rushing up the stairs to the second floor to run back into the library.

Pushing the door open faster than you usually did, (and with the weight of the door, you'd be sore tomorrow,) you rushed toward the drawer you remember stashing the mysterious book in. 

Flinging open the drawer, you found the book just where you had left it,

A relieved sigh left your mouth. "Thank goodness."

You pick up the book and stuff it under your petticoat, making sure it won't fall out.

Shutting the drawer, you ran out of the open library, not bothering to look and see if someone was inside the hallway to witness your odd behavior.

Another flight of stairs later and a few confused maids, you had made it back to your room and locked the door.

You sat the book on your nightstand, deciding you'd read more of it after you got some rest.

Quickly taking of your dress along with your other items, you took your makeup off and lunged into your bed, snuggling into the silk covers as you drifted off to sleep.

But, what you didn't realize is that the book had fallen off your nightstand, hitting the floor and opening up to reveal a read and gold mask.

𓇼𓍢ִִ໋🌊🐚˖✩࿐࿔˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚

❝𝙊𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙡𝙪𝙚 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚, 𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙄 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙞𝙚.❞

🐚 ྀ࿓(Childe/Tartaglia/Ajax x Female Reader)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @strawberrysunr1se 4/10/24

𓇼𓍢ִִ-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

[project-sekai-facts]

Well just based on the news I think the February lim slot has to be a unit event unless they don't care about finishing the rotation before 3.5. January lim could go either way, but because of WxS World Link, that only leaves January lim, February slots 1 and 2, February lim, and March slot 2

Haruka is guaranteed to be one of the perm February slots. Honami could either be January lim or February 1. I think Ena is more likely to be the February lim than Toya is, especially given how the MV types line up. I mean they could do three 3DMV unit events in a row (with a mixed event in there somewhere) since the last 3DMV would end up in March if they do that, but it feels a little more likely they'd do the double 3DMV events and then the next 2DMV. Ena also hasn't had a lim banner with her as the focus (all of her unit events and both of her mixed events have been perms)

I don't know. WxS World Link kinda messes everything up, and the lim schedule is a mess

okay so first off after the stream it occurred to me that i did a big stupid and Honami 4 cannot be the lim banner this month. Lol. Because that would've required them to announce 3 event songs this wandasho channel.

So Toya4 is Toya/Kohane/An lims end of february. Calling it now. Ena I have my doubts about because you could do Ena/Mafuyu/Kaito because both girls are desperate for lims and n25 kaito will be the next vsinger lim, but considering Mizuki has never been rateup on an Ena unit event and also has the most lims in the game right now, I think a Ena/Mizuki rateup for ena4 is most likely.

I will admit I'm still very stuck on things. At the very least it's pretty much confirmed that Hona4 is slot 1 and Haruka4 is slot 2 for february.

Given Emu skipping the rateup she should've had on the current event i'd say she's most likely to be the lim event (plus i think it's too close to akito's last lim when lots of characters have gone nearly a year w/o, and kanade is capped on 4* cards rn). If we look at the characters who need a lim within the next 4 lim events, we have Toya, An, Ena, Mafuyu, Honami, and Emu. Emu already has been featured on mixed events with Ena, Honami and Toya, and we can rule out An based on the likeliness of Toya4 being lim. Emu/Mafuyu works, since they have an established connection, and n25 kaito should be the next vsinger lim and he works with mafuyu.

Also I've seen multiple JP specs that Akito will be the 3.5 event, which makes a lot of sense now that i think about it. it's either kanade, emu, or akito, and miku usually has a 4* on the .5 events. out of those characters, two of them already have a lim miku for their unit. so you could do something like, akito/miku and then maybe ena? i know she was lim on last year's .5 event but there's that 12 month limit thing that's been pretty consistent. plus, pre-established connection. honestly you could probably put Honami on there too because she has a connection to Ena.

then kanade perm mixed after 3.5 god knows who the cards would be on that.

it's patchy, but here's a visual demo of what i'm thinking rn. with this i'm also assuming Ichika/Saki 3.5 fes and Tsukasa/Emu summer fes. mainly based on the fact the WL gacha will end only 8 days before 3.5 (minori and shiho could get away with it because they at least had two weeks between cards). also saki will need a lim more than emu by that point under the assumption that next event is emu.

[notyour-valentine]

The Boy in the Window 16 ~ Tommy Shelby X Reader (Series)

Chapter Summary: (Y/N) grappels with the aftermath of her decision and tries to get on with her daily life, which isn't made any easier by the rumours that have begun to circulate

Notes: Have we all recovered from last time? I'm not sure I have...but onward we go. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Here, you can find my [Masterlist] and the [Series Masterlist]

Warning: Canon conforming mention of violence. (18/21+). Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Expect spoilers for Peaky Blinders Season 1-4.

Wordcount: 4371

Part 16

[Previously]

(Y/N) had never expected it to be easy. She wasn’t naive, but not even in her worst nightmares had she thought it would be this awful. 

She had thought that with enough discipline she’d get through it. After all, loss was no stranger to her. And she had always found the strength to somehow go on.

No matter what life had thrown at her, no matter what threatened to drag her down and rip her apart, she had somehow always found a way to bite down and get on with it. Mostly, she had just drowned herself in banality, focussing on nothing but the day to day. 

But the trouble was, he had become her day to day, so even if she tried to block out any thought, to focus not nothing but the menial tasks of her daily life, she could not escape it.

In fact, it only ever made it worse. 

He had become such a large part of her reality that her subconscious refused to accept the fact that he was no longer here. 

She’d drag her tired body, exhausted from the night she’d spend staring at the ceiling, downstairs after only a few hours of restless sleep and in her fatigue, she'd make breakfast only to realise later that she had taken more than just two plates out of the cupboard, more than two cups, more than two spoons. 

All these little items weighed more than a ton whenever she had to put them back unused. 

When she had been folding clothes, she had stumbled about a stray sock and found herself staring at the stupid monogram - C.S. 

It wouldn’t be missed, not by the man who had paid for them and not by the boy who had worn them.

He probably had a whole drawer of socks, besides, he had always groaned when she had reminded him to wear warm socks, preferring to run barefoot even on the coldest of days. 

Unless they wanted to go ice skating.

There was no use in sending the sock back, and so she kept it folden in her bedside drawer. 

A stupid, single sock with no use and no purpose, marked with the initials of the previous owner and stained with her own tears. 

She’d tidy up the toys and feel the ones grow heavy in her hand which he had considered his favourite. They were old toys, not comparable to the shiny fashionable ones he would have in his playroom, but he had liked them, had played with them, had given them life. 

And now they were just lying there looking as lost as she felt. 

(Y/N) still hadn’t managed to adapt her cooking. Why, she could not tell. 

She hadn’t been as foolish when it had been the other way around, when she had begun to cook for three or four, but now there were always left overs that would remain and mock her for her folly. 

(Y/N) had never realised how few two really was until she sat with Emma alone at her kitchen table. 

It had never been big, but it had never felt so empty before. 

But the worst part was the moments in which she truly forgot.

When she was out with Emma, an icy fear would grab hold of her and she’d search the street for blond hair and soft hands, for the dark peaked cap, and the perfectly fitted coat.

She’d feel the kind of terror that threatened to rip her heart out of her chest only to realise that he was not there because he was not here anymore. 

No Italians, no vendetta or dangers just…life had taken him from her. 

And her weak, foolish heart couldn’t handle it. 

Emma knew it too.

She hadn’t understood why Charlie had left, no matter how many times (Y/N) told her that he had gone home. 

She still asked for him, every day, every night. 

Once, Emma had flicked through her story book, only to stop at the page that showed the illustration of the Princess' loyal horse. 

Charlie had hated that story, had wailed so loudly her ears almost fell off when she had read that the horse had been killed. 

He had made her change the ending after that, but there was no changing the ending now and so Emma’s little fingers traced the fur of the white horse before pushing at the pages angrily as if she wanted to put as much distance between herself and the image. 

(Y/N) couldn’t blame her, though. After all, she would lie awake at night wondering if he was alright, if he was healthy, if he was eating well. 

One time there had been sudden rainfall and her only thought had been the desperate hope that the boy hadn’t been riding when the skies broke, else he could’ve gotten a terrible cold. 

Of course, there was no way she’d ever know. She had no right to know. 

So she would just spend her nights in her bed, staring at the ceiling, trying and failing to fight the memories and thoughts that made her throat close and her eyes burn while she shuddered. 

(Y/N) never remembered to heat a brick for her bed now that it was cold once more. 

And once she realised, she often no longer had the strength to get up and go down. 

Besides, she deserved the cold, and the empty bed and the pain. It was punishment for her sins. 

If only it didn’t hurt Emma so. 

The fact that her daughter was unhappy, wasn’t lost on her. 

She had grown quiet in his absence, and she was never quiet unless she had been ill. 

In the months and weeks past she had gotten used to a playmate and had somehow forgotten how to play all on her own. 

(Y/N) had deserved her own heartbreak, but Emma hadn’t. 

And that was a kind of pain that she couldn't endure.

~

Her fingers stroked over Emma’s hair.

Instead of looking at her, her fingers kept pushing the small ball so that it only rolled a few inches, before rolling it back with the others.

“After church,”, she told her, trying to sound as light hearted as possible, “we can go to the church green, how does that sound?”

Emma only shrugged. 

(Y/N) pressed a kiss to the top of her head and sighed as she got up. 

They weren’t late to church, but the eyes followed them anyways. 

It wasn’t a new sensation.

Whenever she went to Mrs Cook for new work or to Mr and Mrs Davies for her groceries, people would have watched but since it was over, she somehow felt more vulnerable under the eyes that followed her and the whispers she would leave in her wake. 

By now she did not doubt that they knew.

A child that came with the Shelbys and happened to leave with them as well?

Even if she had somehow managed to deny that, she had forgotten that Ethel Laddler’s sister lived across from the Shelbys in Watery Lane. 

(Y/N) wasn’t as naive as to think that she would have kept the sight of her and the children arriving with Tommy Shelby to herself. 

No, she felt these gazes and she knew what they meant. 

Luckily Emma was too small to notice.

During the prayer time, when all eyes were closed and all hands clasped she not only prayed for Emma, and for her own dead, but for Charlie and his father too. 

How could she not?

But perhaps she shouldn’t have done, because (Y/N) felt a decade older when she opened her eyes again, and a lifetime more wery. 

“Go,”, she told Emma after the service was done.

“Don’t you want to play with your friends?”

They were glad to see Emma, but her daughter who was usually fidgety during church in expectation of the time after only went with slow and dragged steps. 

With a sigh, (Y/N) sat down on the bench and tried desperately not to think. 

But of course, that never worked. 

Her thoughts, if given even a little leeway went to them at once. 

It had only been a few days, but to her it was a lifetime of misery.

Every minute of every day, awake or asleep, she felt the strain of their absence, the cold emptiness they left behind. 

It would get better, one day, she knew that from experience, but right now that reality felt as far and as unreachable to her as the silvery light of the moon. 

But it always did, at first. 

She had been here before. She had endured it before. 

Only this time she had no right to her grief, which somehow made it impossible to bear. 

Her eyes began to burn once more and perhaps that was why she let her attention drift away from the children for only a moment. 

It snapped back immediately when she heard shouting.

“No!”, Emma shrieked, stamping her foot angrily. 

“No, no, no!”

Robert was in front of her, arguing with as much intensity and reaching out to grab something Emma was holding, turning his back to her. 

She shoved him with all her might. 

Surprised by her ambush, Robert fell, just barely catching himself with his hands.

Still on the ground, he turned and kicked at her.

“Alright, that’s enough!”, (Y/N) called.

She had abandoned her spot on the bench and had pushed past the crowd of children.

“Emma, Robert, stop, both of you!”, she ordered, pulling them apart. 

Robert was startled by her sharp tone but Emma reached down and wretched something from his hands, rage burning in her eyes. 

She had her hand on Emma’s back as she pulled her away.

“What was that about?”, she demanded to know as soon as they were out of earshot. 

“Hm?”

“He’s stupid.”, Emma snarled, her hands clutching the little toy to her chest.

“He’s stupid and I don’t want to play with him!”

“You can’t call other people stupid, Emma.”, she said. "It's not nice."

“But he is, Mummy, he is!”, Emma insisted. “He doesn’t know any of the games and doesn’t follow the rules!”

“What games, darling?”

Emma fell silent, her lips forming a pout as she glanced at the toy in her hand.

“The games we used to play.”, she muttered. “Charlie and me.”

(Y/N) forced her eyes shut for a moment to gather the strength for a response. 

“Emma,”, she began slowly, crouching down to be of an eye-level with her.“There are more games than the ones you played with Charlie, other games that are just as fun.”

Emma stamped her feet again, close to tears.

“But I don’t want other games, Mummy, I want our games!”, she argued.

“Then teach them to Robert and the others.”, she tried once more, only to see her daughter shaking her head before she leapt forward and into her arms. 

With a sigh, she wrapped her in an embrace. 

“Why can’t I have Charlie?”, she whispered, her voice breaking. 

“Because he’s gone home, Emma.”, she told her for the millionth time. “He’s gone home and he’s not coming back.”

There were no tears, just Emma burying her face in the crook of her neck and her leaning her head against hers. 

I know, she wanted to tell her, I know, my darling. I miss him too. 

But she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. 

It took a whole while before Emma decided to leave her arms again and only then with reluctance, and only to play a skipping game with the other girls.

“We all know where she picked up that sort of behaviour.”

The sneer made her skin crawl even before she could see the glee in the eyes of the woman that had spoken.

Ethel Laddler was standing right next to her, with Mabel Sloan and Gertrude Jackson, each trying desperately to suppress their delight - and failing. 

“Do you now?”, (Y/N) asked.

She was too tired to be annoyed by them and that caused them more irritation than her anger would have done. 

“Oh yes.”, Mrs. Jackson said. “Everyone knows.”

(Y/N) chose not to speak. Instead, she just looked at them, waiting. 

Mrs Laddler clicked her tongue.

“Must’ve been a harsh disappointment to you,”, she said, “after all you tried.”

“What I tried?”, she asked, raising her eyebrow. “What exactly did I try?”

Mrs Sloan snorted and Mrs. Jackson clicked her tongue. 

“Everyone knows,”, she said, “even the Quakers sing songs of the harlot that took Tommy Shelby to bed. But it seems he doesn’t seem to pay as much as he used to.”

With that, she looked her up and down with nothing but gleeful disgust in her eyes. 

“Perhaps not worth the money this time.”, Mrs. Laddler added, unable to hide her smirk. 

“Is there a problem here?”

She turned the other way to see Father Callitch standing there. 

He was a kind man, far younger than the priests they had before and filled with ambition to make the best of his grim posting. 

Hardly any of the good ones stayed long in this part, but he tried, working hard to build something with the community and she had always liked him. 

“We were only saying goodbye to Mrs Hale, Father.”, Mrs Laddler chirped. 

“Goodbye?”, Father Callitch asked, turning to her. “Are you leaving?”

“We expect so.”, Mrs. Sloan added gleefully. “The church circle, at least.”

He raised his eyebrow, looking from one to the other slowly. 

His eyes only softened when they returned to her. 

“I heard of no such thing, Mrs. Hale.”

“She must.”, Mrs. Jackson insisted, spitting the words. “With unchristian behaviour as hers.”

(Y/N) swallowed hard, but it was the priest that answered.

“Unchristian behaviour?”, he asked, faining ignorance as he sat down on the bench beside her. “Forgive me, Mrs. Jackson, but I fail to see where in the scripture it is frowned upon to take in a child in need of aid. Or can you think of a passage?”

His words were polite, but there was a sharpness in his gaze neither (Y/N) nor the other women failed to notice. 

“That is not what we mean.”, Mrs. Laddler argued, shifting on her feet. 

She no longer sounded as confident as she had a moment before. 

“No?”, Father Callitch asked. “What then do you know, Mrs. Laddler?”

His emphasis carried enough weight to make her purse her already thin lips. 

“Hm…thought so. But thank you for reminding me, Ladies, to make the next sermon about the unchristian practise of spreading rumours and casting stones.”

(Y/N) didn’t fail to notice the faint hint of a smile on his lips as the three of them took their leave, calling their children away with them. 

“How are you, Mrs. Hale?”, he asked after a while. 

She glanced at her lap and sighed.

“Why did you do that?”, she asked sharply. “Why did you defend me?”

“Because it is what I believe to be right.”

She always hated how calm some people’s voices sounded, especially when her own mind was spinning out of control. 

“Do you?”, she asked, turning to look at him.

He had the face of a scholar, with thinking lines and sharp eyes. 

If he hadn’t been a priest, he could have been handsome.

“What if you were wrong?”, she asked. “What if all they said was true?”

She turned her eyes away because in spite of everything she could not look into the eyes of a man of the church and say what she had to.

“What I really was Tommy Shelby’s whore?”

The words had sharp edges that cut her up inside as she forced them out. 

A murderer’s whore…a gangster’s harlot…a peaky blinder’s bitch. 

She had heard them in whispers.

Callitch, however, didn’t seem to be shocked in the slightest at her choice of words. 

“Well,”, he sighed, “It is not my place, or anyone’s place to judge.”

But everyone seems to be so very good at it anyways. 

His hand found hers and gave it a squeeze. It’s warmth was surprisingly comforting.

“Besides,”, he said softly, lowering his voice so only she would hear.

“You were put in an unjust, impossible position, Mrs. Hale, one which is only to be pitied."

He gave her hand a little squeeze.

"Your strength to endure it, is to be commemorated. We all know that Mr. Shelby will not be denied.”

It took a while for (Y/N) to understand the meaning of his words, but when she did, she pulled her hand out from under him.

“You all think he’s nothing but a monster.”

It wasn’t a question, but he answered with one.

“Don’t you?”

~

She had just dumped the dried laundry on the kitchen table to fold when she heard the knock on the door. 

Not today, she thought, glancing at the clock.

It had been just as horrid as the day before, and the one before that and (Y/N) saw no reason to deal with anyone anymore. 

Besides, it was almost half past eight and Emma was already in bed. Since she didn’t expect anyone, she saw no use in even looking who it was. 

But when the key turned in the lock, all fatigue melted from her bones and she jumped back, all the terrors of the weeks past rushing back in full force.

A mad fear gripped her as she ran out into the corridor, without a plan, without a weapon, only to huff in realisation at who was there. 

“How the hell did you get in here?”, she demanded to know.

“Took Tommy’s key.”, Lizzie said with a shrug, entirely unimpressed with her reaction.

Staring in wide-eyed disbelief, (Y/N) watched Lizzie take off her coat and place it on the hanger.

“Do I get tea or do I have to do that myself too?”

In the end it was (Y/N) who had made the tea, after hastily throwing all the laundry back into the basket half unmade to make room. 

“So,”, Lizzie said, taking the ashtray from the windowsill and placing it in front of her as she lit her cigarette.

“You've looked better.”

(Y/N) didn’t even dignify her remark with a reply. 

Lizzie of course, looked glorious, in a purple silk blouse and a black skirt, with amethyst stone earrings. (Y/N) must’ve looked like a crone next to her, like an ugly duckling next to a swan.

“How’s Emma?”, Lizzie wanted to know. 

“What do you want, Lizzie?”, she asked, starring at the untouched cup of tea in front of her.

The other woman sighed as she tapped the top of her cigarette.

“Well, I’m here on business.”, she said, clearing her throat. From her purse, she pulled out a folder stamped with the Shelby logo. 

“What do you want to get to first, the house or the foundation?”, she asked as if (Y/N) ought to know what that meant. 

Her eyes were filled with expectation, while all she could offer her was confusion.

“What house?”, she asked. 

“Your house.”, Lizzie said unimpressed. “Warburton House.” (Y/N) only blinked. 

“This…is my house, Lizzie, you know that.”

She rolled her eyes impatiently and pulled forth a copy of some files. 

It was a parish filing in the village of Arrow in  Stratford-Upon-Avon district, confirming ownership of a property called Warburton House on her. 

The name, the date of birth, everything was entirely in order.

“But this isn’t right.”, she argued. “I don’t…how would I…”

Lizzie scoffed.

“Do you never pay attention to the things you sign?”, she asked sharply. 

Shame crept up (Y/N)’s cheeks. 

“I don’t understand…”, she admitted. 

“The papers Tommy asked you to sign, remember?”

How could she not? 

She had been sick to her stomach with fear once she had known, and he had told her only at the last moment. Otherwise she never would have gone through with it. 

He had wanted it and so she had signed them.

“Did you read them?”, Lizzie demanded to know.

“I…I thought they were about Charlie.”, she stammered, knotting her hands in her lap. 

She muttered something under her breath in disbelief as she brought the cigarette back to her lips.

“Course they were about Charlie.”, she insisted, “making sure he’d be alright. That you’d be alright.”

A manicured and red painted finger tapped the paper right where the name of the property stood. 

Warburton House. 

There was no street name or number. Just Warburton House. 

That wasn’t calming in the slightest. 

“Well,”, (Y/N) said after a while. “That was before. He will have changed his mind.”

She hadn’t expected him to contact her again, but at the same time she had thought he might have tried at least. She had said all that had to be said, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any things left that she wanted to say and a part of her had hoped that perhaps he’d feel the same way, even if it was impossible. 

“He hasn’t.”

“Has he told you?”, she asked, trying to stop her racing heart. 

“Fuck no.”, Lizzie said, inhaling once more. “There’s just the list.”

“List?”, (Y/N) asked. 

“Whenever he disappears he leaves a list.”, Lizzie said, leaning back in her chair. “A list of orders to be followed to the letter. This is why I’m here. The list.”

“What do you mean, disappears?”, she asked. “Where is he?”

Lizzie shrugged.

“No one fucking knows. He had the party, announced he was going on holiday and off he went.”

“Is Charlie with him?”, she demanded to know. 

Lizzie shook her head, which somehow calmed her, but not much. 

Tommy missing…

That couldn’t be good, especially at a time like this when he had a restless mind and a drained body. But at the same time, Lizzie didn’t seem all too surprised. Perhaps that was something.

“Anyway, this is on the list.”, she said, tapping the file once more.

“You’re to move out in a week. Mover’s been called, even though the house got full furniture so just tell them what you really want to take with you and get packing."

“What?”, (Y/N) gasped. “I’m not moving!”

“It’s on the list. Good luck telling them no.”

She shook her head in bottomless disbelief. 

“Lizzie, this is ridiculous. I can’t just move to some place I’ve never been to. This is my home.”

Lizzie leaned forward and took her hand.

“I know the house.”, she told her softly. “It’s got gardens with flowerbeds and a vegetable patch and a few trees. It’s a good place to live and a good place to grow up in.”

(Y/N) bit the inside of her lip and shook her head once more, but before she could argue more, Lizzie pulled out another stack of papers. 

“Now, about the foundation. Here are the files.”

She placed them in front of her, so that she could not escape the large letters that spelled out SHELBY FAMILY FOUNDATION. 

“This has nothing to do with me.”, she insisted sharply. 

“Yeah well,”, Lizzie said unimpressed, “25% increase of non-taxable donations to charities. Two new institutes for destitute children in the city. Expanded work with the local community and an annual budget for projects with the local churches for those in need in Small Heath. Ring a bell?”

That (Y/N) could not deny. 

“Those are Tommy’s plans.”, she argued. 

Lizzie’s eyes dug into her as she nodded. 

“Yep. Well, here are the plans. Go on. Look at them.”

(Y/N) opened the file as if the paper could burn her. 

The plans were rough, yes, but they made her heart beat faster. 

Those that were already formed were good. An expansion on schooling, on healthcare, on support for war widows and war orphans. And generous money yet to be allocated somewhere in the community. 

“Welcome on the board.”, Lizzie said as soon as she lifted her eyes again.

“Lizzie, no.”, she said, shaking her head.

In this, however, Lizzie didn’t seem to fight her.

“Well then, too bad for the community.”

With that she closed the file.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, she asked. 

Lizzie leaned back and smirked slightly. 

“Tommy’s thought you’d try to be difficult so he made it simple. All this either happens with you on the board or not at all.”

(Y/N) slumped back in the chair, rubbing her temples.

All this was too much information in too little time on her already tired brain and she had to take a moment to just gather herself in this whirlwind Lizzie had brought into her kitchen.

“Are you serious?”, she asked suspiciously.

Lizzie’s look told her all she needed to know. 

“But I have no experience. I don’t know anything.”

“Either with you or not at all.”, Lizzie repeated. “It’s your choice.”

What kind of choice is that?, she thought bitterly. 

(Y/N) shook her head. 

“That's blackmail!”, she insisted. 

“Look,”, Lizzie snapped, leaning forward and pointing at her, “Life’s not about what you deserve, it’s about what you take and you’ve just been given a chance.”

Her voice was uncommonly stern, like that of a school teacher, or her mother a lifetime ago. 

(Y/N) swallowed hard. 

It seemed too good to be true, but that was because it was. 

She couldn’t accept this.

Tommy might talk big now but he truly wanted to help the people to and he would do it, with or without her presence. 

She was sure of it.

“Seriously, (Y/N)!”, Lizzie hissed after over a minute of silence. 

“Lizzie, I already told you-”

The other woman cut her off impatiently.

“At least give me your perfume or another scarf of yours, if you’re too stubborn for the rest.”

“My scarf?”, she asked with a frown. 

Lizzie nodded, forcefully putting out her cigarette.

“You left one in the bag with Charlie’s things.”, she explained. “He’s been sleeping with it every night since he got back until one of the maids washed it. And now he's been screaming the bloody house down for two days straight because it no longer smells like you.”

End

~

Part 17

Thank you for reading! I’d be very grateful for feedback of any kind!

Taglist: 

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @watercolorskyy @books-livre @chlorrox @quarterpastmidnight

Tommy Shelby Taglist:

@knowledgefulbutterfly

TBITW Taglist:

@kaitebugg03 @esistmon  @chlorrox   @theshelbyslimited  @budugu  @woofgocows  @orkwardx0 @judig92 @100percentamess @kabbuu @esposadomd  @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere @starsnsecrets @lady-loves-a-lot @katiepie67 @acoolnight @chaotic-onigiri @ohshititsfenharel @muhahaha303 @globetrotter28 @xoprincessmel @shittingonyourgrave @pessimisticbiitch @elisa20beth @simran-preet19 @majesticcmey @akiisbae @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @vodkainthecoffee @pearlstiare  @jk-acc @cutecurly-hair @lovecleastrange @kishie8  @kirenia15 @burninggracesandbridges @nervousmumbling

[otakween]

Digimon Tamers: Brave Tamer - Final Thoughts

Phew! If you're wondering why I've been quiet for a bit, it's because this game took me 3 weeks to beat. It was kind of grueling at times. It definitely assumes that you played the previous 3 (or 4 if Anode and Cathode count for 2) games and does NOT baby you at the start. It definitely wasn't my favorite game in the series, but the fact that it did away with the terrible old Jogress system earned it a lot of points in my book. There are still some Wonderswan games to play, but I think that's really it for Ryo games! Thank goodness :)

Notes:

Major downgrade from D1 Tamers visually! D1 was so colorful and exploring the world was actually interesting. Brave Tamer follows the Digimon World 2 strat of making every single dungeon pretty much identical and the hub world is bland as heck as well. You don't even need to travel to get to the dungeons you just walk up to the same hole every time. Lame.

Thank God this game lets digimon level up and evolve normally. It basically follows the Pokemon style of evolution. In previous games there were bullshit level caps unless you jogressed a zillion times. This game still has that dumb mechanic where your digimon devolves into a baby. I get that that happens in the show, but it felt pretty silly in the game. They get back to normal pretty quickly after a few battles.

Digimon recruitment is limited to borrowing digimon from digidestined from the various anime series. What an awkward concept. Ryo comes out of nowhere to save the day and then each partner digimon is like "See ya partner, I'm ditching you for Ryo!" I'm just imagining the characters that are left partner-less facing certain doom after Ryo leaves lol. Maybe it's one of those situations where they're only gone for a few minutes due to dimension hopping.

The card slash system (based on the Tamers universe of course) was interesting, but kind of annoying to figure out. After I got a handful of strong cards I couldn't be arsed to keep trying new jogress combos.

Speaking of taking the lazy route, I didn't use the majority of the digimon I recruited once LOL. It's more efficient to just stick with the same digimon for the whole game unless you want to spend a lot of time grinding, so that's what I did. I ended up with only mega-level digimon at the end which is frustrating because MegaloGrowmon and Taomon were at level 30! (They upgrade to mega at 31).

The bosses were strangely easy in this game (except for one that took me like 5 tries). What made it hard were the frickin' labyrinthine dungeons (the last one is TIMED! Evil). I have a terrible sense of direction IRL and in video games so the dungeons in this game were torture for me. You have to traverse up to 5 floors and sometimes there are so many dead ends and roadblocks that it takes what feels like an eternity. Also, there are random battles every 2 seconds that increase the suffering. In the later game I planned my route ahead of time by figuring out where the boss was on YouTube and mapping backwards from there. Here's a screenshot of me and my map in MS Paint:

(By the way, I always play Wonderswan games in windowed mode or else they look wonky. This time, that really came in handy).

I had to use multiple guides to figure out some of this game because the most popular walkthrough wasn't very good. It barely gives you any instructions on getting through dungeons, which was what I really needed.

Most scandalous part of this game was when Millenniummon called Ryo his lover (koibito)? Whaaaaa...?

I didn't realize that this game is a prequel to Tamers so I kinda did things out of order, whoops! I didn't realize that Cyberdramon was supposed to be the outcome of a Monodramon/Millenniummon jogress. Makes me want to rewatch some bits of the anime...

There was so much dramatic build up for the final battle and then it was so easy? I didn't even need to use the 10 low-level healing items I stocked up on. Oh well, guess I was well prepared.

Of course there's a post-game where you can scan all the digimon you missed, but that just seems silly. They're not partners in this game, they're cards. If I can't a raise a digimon I don't really see the appeal in collecting them all. (I mean I guess I wouldn't see the appeal in raising them all either, but the cards seem like even more of a waste of time).

The Wonderswan games have always been my fave digimon games but this one felt simultaneously half-assed and overly complicated. I'd give it like a 5 or 6 out of 10. Let's call it a 5.5.

[sowoozoo-7]

Love, Lust & Litigation | Ch2 (JJK, KNJ)

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader x Namjoon

Genre: lawyer!AU, coworkers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut

Rating: M (18+) whole fic, this chapter PG-13 (I guess)

Warnings: some swearing in this chapter, nothing explicit

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Unfortunately, you have developed a massive crush on your new boss. Even more unfortunately, your equally attractive coworker is also harboring massive crush on your boss. AKA Jungkook and reader both pine for big, sexy brain Namjoon. 

A/N: Aaand here she is! Chapter 2! It took me a while to finalize this draft, mostly because I was on a trip with my bff, but also because I was, well, procrastinating. I don't do well without a deadline, so I'm going to try to post a chapter every week on Saturday until the fic is done! Look out for Chapter 3 in a week :)

mlist | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | interlude | ch 6

Your newest client sits across a large conference room table from you, Namjoon, and Jungkook, flanked by two impossibly large bodyguards holding equally tiny dogs. She’s one of the most popular singer-songwriters of the moment.

An indie artist filed a lawsuit claiming that your client copied lyrics verbatim and stole the melody from a song of his after attending an intimate showcase. To your ears, the songs sound vaguely similar, but you’re no music expert. 

In the press though, the indie artist has spun it as a David and Goliath story. The court of public opinion is firmly on his side already. 

“It’s a bullshit case,” says your client, rolling her eyes. “There’s only so many ways you can string the words ‘I,’ ‘love,’ ‘you,’ ‘so,’ and ‘much’ together in a song. And everyone knows that all modern pop songs have the same four chord progressions anyway.” 

Namjoon nods, taking notes on his legal pad. “We’ll take the case, but there’s no guarantee the judge is going to rule in our favor. These plagiarism cases can be very unpredictable.” 

“Right, but you guys are the best right?” She takes one of the fluffy dogs into her lap and starts petting it. The dog makes direct eye contact with you as it starts to pant.  

Namjoon lets out a little laugh. “We are, but we’re not miracle workers. We can’t guarantee a win even in the simplest case. But we do guarantee our best with some of the best lawyers in the field.” 

He caps this off with a little smile, one that makes his eyes look kind and his dimples pop. 

The songwriter melts a little and she honest-to-god starts twirling her hair around her finger.

“Well, if it looks like we’re not going to win the case, I’m not above settling with this guy.” 

You look over at Jungkook in confusion. She was adamant that she wouldn’t settle at the top of the meeting. He mouths back, The Namjoon Effect.

Ah. Yes. You can relate.  

“Understood.” Namjoon gives her another smile as he closes his legal pad. “And unless there’s anything else you would like for us to take into consideration…?” 

“I think that’s it.” 

She gives him a coy smile as he gestures her out of the conference room. "Thank you so much for your time."

Namjoon turns to you and Jungkook once she's gone down the hallway.

“Right. What’s our angle?” 

You and Jungkook look at each other in surprise. High profile cases usually go to Namjoon and you assumed this one would too.

You only ever play the “What’s our angle?” game when the case will go to one of the junior associates. The game is simple. Whoever has the best pitch gets the case. It's a brilliant move on Namjoon's part, really. It taps into you and Jungkook's natural competition and it makes you think out of the box to win cases. You’re keeping an informal tally in the back of your planner and so far, it’s an even split. 

This time, Jungkook beats you to the draw. “We still have contacts in the music industry who can be expert witnesses. With these two songs, it’ll come down to the specific instrumentation, composition, and lyrical flow.” 

You can feel the case slipping through your fingers — you haven’t been at Bang & Associates long enough to have a long list of contacts yet and Jungkook minored in music composition in college. He has all the advantage here and he knows it. He smiles, like he’s already gotten lead on the case. 

You shake your head anyway and speak up. 

“That’s an important component to the case, definitely, but it’s not the determining factor. There’s been an increase in these types of cases, with two high-profile cases in just the last six moths and countless others that flew under the radar, and the trend I’ve seen is that the outcome depends on precedent and how IP laws fit around the specific musical particularities.” 

Jungkook clenches his jaw, his tongue playing with his lip ring. Both of you wait while Namjoon deliberates. It’s all part of the game, one that Namjoon takes seriously. He considers every facet and it takes him unbearable minutes to make a decision. You've learned to not second-guess your pitches and to be comfortable in the silence.

This time, though, you don’t have long to wait. He nods and points at you. “Good thinking. You’re taking lead on this case. Jungkook, I want you on support. Normally, I’d take this case, but I have the class-action suit on my plate, and I can’t spare Jimin or Hoseok. Bring me your complete plan by COB tomorrow. Send me a calendar invite for a time that works for both of you.” 

You want to grin and do a little victory dance, but you nod instead, in a way that you hope looks level-headed. 

“Will do. Thanks, boss.” 

Namjoon's eyebrow twitches at the title and he gives you a look you can't fully parse. He leaves the conference room with a strange two finger salute.

Jungkook gives you a disgruntled look as soon as Namjoon is out of sight. You give him a smug grin in return. This is the second case in a row you've won, and you can officially tally yourself ahead by one.

“Congrats, I guess,” he says as he goes to leave.

You reach out a hand to stop him, your fingers brushing his sleeve. He looks down at your hand like it offends him and all his ancestors before him. He's sulking again.

“Do you have any meetings now?” It's impossible to deal with him when he's like this, but you have a quick turnaround on this case, so it leaves you no choice.

“Nothing on the schedule,” he says.

“Let’s meet now, then. Come to my office.” 

He follows you and sits in one your guest chairs, slumping down, spreading his legs long and wide. One of his legs bounces up and down. He doesn’t meet your eyes.

You lean back against your desk instead of sitting behind it. 

“Given you’re the music expert here, what’s your opinion on the songs? Do you think we have a good chance of winning? Just based on the songs themselves.” 

He shrugs. “Right now, it’s a toss-up. I’ll have to take a closer listen to really be able to say. But I have a couple of friends in the music industry who we’ve used before as expert witnesses. They’ll break it down to the nitty gritty.” 

“Great, get me those names and the specifics of how they can help with the case by the end of the day. Contact them if you can to see if they're willing to be our witnesses. I’ll take a closer look at the caselaw and the suit itself and get the memo for Namjoon together tomorrow morning. Unless you can think of something from the precedent perspective?” 

“Seems like you’ve got that part covered.” His tongue pokes out into his cheek, still not looking at you.

“Okay, then. I think that’s it. Maybe we can chat tomorrow before lunch to make sure we have all the bases covered.” 

He doesn’t respond, just gives you the barest of nods and gets up to head towards the door. 

“Jeon.” 

He turns in your doorway to look back at you. You’re still leaning against your desk, arms crossed. He takes you in, his eyes trailing from your heels all the way up to meet your eyes. Your breath hitches as his expression shifts to something darker. Hungrier.  

“Should I let you win next time so I don’t have to deal with you acting like a whiny little baby?” 

He huffs out a little laugh and rolls his eyes. The look from a second ago is gone. 

“If you did, I’d call Area 51 to make sure there was no extraterrestrial activity in the area because you’d for sure be an alien in disguise.” 

He leaves, the sound of his soft chuckle trailing behind him. It takes a second for your breath to return to normal. 

You and Jungkook go to court after a couple weeks of trying to negotiate a settlement, armed with files, documents and expert opinions. Namjoon takes time from his class-action suit to supervise. 

The case drags on for a week. Photographers swarm the court. They snap a picture of you, Namjoon, and Jungkook on the way to the courtroom the third day and the picture goes viral. It’s the first time any of your cases have been in the public eye like this. Even though you’re the defense, the internet goes crazy, with endless “Mommy? Sorry, Mommy? Sorry? Daddy?” memes. 

Whenever you’re in the office, you get playful comments from your coworkers. Jimin swears he didn’t mean to include the firm-wide distribution list in his email to the PR team about the photo. You don’t believe him, but you can’t really be too mad at him. 

It’s one of the best pictures you’ve ever seen of yourself. The three of you look like a promo picture for a legal drama on cable TV, with you in the middle, holding your own between your stupid-hot coworkers. 

Jungkook looks like a federal agent, his all-black suit fitted in the right places. He carries a shiny leather briefcase and the glimpse of the tattoos on the hand holding the briefcase is primarily what has the internet in shambles. 

Namjoon, in a navy suit and tie, looks like the hottest politician you’ve ever seen. His brown hair sweeps away from his face, lethal in wire-frame glasses. 

“Damn, girl, you look hot.” Your best friend, Nina, looks at the photo on her phone. You’re at brunch at your favorite cafe the weekend after the trial ends. “Aren’t you glad I convinced you to get that suit?” 

The court ruled in your favor, and your client — graciously — didn’t counter-sue the independent artist. Instead, she offered to have him feature on her latest single, so the royalties can cover the legal fees that he’s now responsible for paying. 

You’re sitting in the patio, an umbrella shading you from the unseasonably hot late fall sun. The rickety patio table groans under the weight of poached eggs, bacon, smoked salmon, fruit, and the best pancakes in the city. The mimosas go down easy. Life is good.

“I was running on so little sleep that day. The suit was really the saving grace.” 

You bought it on a whim on a semi-drunk post-brunch shopping trip with Nina a few weeks before you joined Bang & Associates. You balked at the price, but Nina reminded you of the massive pay increase you were about to get, and you caved. The suit fits you perfectly, with the skirt hugging in all the right places and the cropped suit jacket adding the illusion of height to your frame. You feel invincible every time you wear it. 

It’s thanks to Nina that you’re breaking out of the boring black and grey suits. She’s a local fashion influencer and runs a trendy boutique in the artsy part of town. 

“Nah, girl. The suit is the added bonus. It’s you in that photo totally rocking it.” 

“I wanna get that framed.” 

Nina laughs and clinks her glass against yours. You’re both a little drunk on mimosas and sunshine. “I’ll do it for Christmas.” 

You’re pleasantly buzzed when your post-meal lattes come out. Nina chokes as she goes to take a sip, her eyes wide. 

“Is that…” 

She doesn’t need to finish her sentence. You follow her gaze and thankfully, your cup is firmly on the table because you would have otherwise snorted coffee out of your nose. 

A sweaty and glistening Namjoon and Jungkook cross the wooden patio to go inside the cafe. They must have been running in the park across the street because they're dressed in exercise clothes, both in sleeveless tops and shorts that leave little to the imagination.

Namjoon is practically glowing. His shirt clings to his chest, outlining muscle you didn’t know existed until this moment. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair as they walk across the patio, biceps flexing. 

Your mouth hangs open. Muscle definition, on top of everything else?

Jungkook’s tattoos are on full display. You’ve seen part of them before, when he rolls his sleeves up at work, but you had no idea he had a full sleeve, bold and colorful. His sweaty hair sticks to his face, the waves even more pronounced. 

The spell breaks as soon as they disappear into the cafe. You and Nina exhale at the same time. 

“That’s indecent,” you breathe. 

“Holy mother of God,” she mutters. “How do you get any work done around the office?”

“They’re usually not prancing around half-naked.”

“I want to put my hands on their chests and squeeze.” She puts her hands out and makes grabby hands. 

You let out a squeak and swat her across the table. “Nina! Why would you put that image in my head? How am I going to get through meetings? I’m not gonna be able to look them in the eye.” 

“I would ask why you haven’t slept with them yet, but I know you’re too proper to shit where you eat.” She shakes her head. “College you would have been all over that.” 

“Namjoon is practically a monk,” you say morosely.

Nina chokes on her coffee again. “Oh my god, you actually like him.” 

A tiny, pitiful wail escapes you. “I mean, you just saw him, Neen. He looks like that and he’s nice and smart. It’s like if a man like Namjoon exists, he ruins all other men, really.” 

“What about e-boy?” 

You snort. “He’s cute, but he’s in l—“ 

“Cute?” Your friend looks at you incredulously. “That’s the understatement of the year. I want that man to pin me against the wall and — shit. They’re coming this way. Quick. Pretend we’re talking about my shop.” 

You swallow your coffee nervously. “Um. Tell me about the clothes you set aside for me?” 

“Oh!” She perks up, eyes shining. “Remind me to send you pictures. I just got the most gorgeous dress that would be great for your holiday party!” 

“Already? It’s not even November yet.” 

Nina rolls her eyes. “Your firm’s holiday party is the event in the law world. I’m not even in law and I’ve known about it since grad school.” 

You hear your name called, and your heart rate picks up. Your coworkers walk towards your table with iced coffees in their hands. From what you know about their usual coffee orders, Namjoon’s is an iced americano and Jungkook’s is some ungodly sweet concoction involving every syrup they have available. They look less flushed now coming out of the air conditioned cafe. 

“Come here often?” 

You roll your eyes. “Terrible line, Jeon. Working out?”

“Yeah, I live a couple blocks down and Namjoon wanted a running buddy today.”

“Sunshine is good for your health,” says Namjoon. “God knows we don’t get nearly enough when we’re in the office.” 

You wouldn’t know it from the way his skin glows golden in the sun.

“Oh, we must be neighbors,” you say to Jungkook before you get stuck ogling Namjoon’s exposed skin. “I’m a few blocks that way too.” 

You can feel Nina’s eyes boring hole in your skull. “By the way, this is my best friend Nina. Nina, this is Namjoon and Jungkook. Namjoon’s my boss, and Jungkook is the other junior litigation associate.” 

“Oh yeah, I thought I recognized you,” says Nina.

“The picture?” asks Jungkook. 

“The picture,” you confirm. “I kind of want to get it framed so I can show my grandchildren someday.” You put on an old lady voice. “‘Look kids, granny used to be a hotshot lawyer.’”

A thrum of satisfaction runs through you when they laugh at your joke. Namjoon’s eyes push up into half-moons and Jungkook’s nose scrunches in the most adorable way.

“Anyway, we won’t keep you.” Namjoon places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and steers him toward the exit. Jungkook inhales at the contact, and his cheeks redden a shade. You wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t watching him. “Have a great rest of your weekend.” 

“Enjoy the sunshine,” you say with a wave. 

“See you at work!” Jungkook calls over his shoulder. 

As soon as they’re out of view, you and Nina slump over. 

“Enjoy the sunshine? Really?” You bury your face in your hands. 

Nina pickup her coffee cup and puts it back down without taking a sip. “Why doesn’t my boyfriend have dimples. Why do I even have a stupid boyfriend?” 

The following week, you find the photo framed on your desk, wrapped in a simple ribbon.

So you can show your future grandchildren, reads the note. There’s no signature. 

It can only be one of two people and you decide not to say anything to either of them, you just simply put the picture up in one of the empty spots on your bookshelf. You don’t want to know how you would feel if you knew for certain who gifted it to you, and what it would mean for those hypothetical and very unprofessional feelings you definitely aren’t feeling already. 

That doesn’t stop you from tucking the note in the back pocket of your planner anyway. Just in case. 

A few weeks later, you’re wading your way through a series of ownership bylaws for the city’s pro basketball team. You lost the “What’s our angle?” game, and the case went to Jungkook. He actually fist-pumped in victory when he got lead. This means you’ve been sitting on at your desk for the past week, with fuzzy slippers and yellow-light glasses on as you scroll through endless PDF’s to find your client an out from ownership without having to pay a massive fine. 

A knock on your office door breaks your concentration. It takes your eyes a second to focus on something further than your computer screen. Namjoon leans against the doorjamb, coat on.

“Had lunch yet?” 

“No, I was going to wait until after our meeting.” Your computer pings helpfully with a calendar reminder and your stomach follows up with a growl. Breakfast consisted of a sad piece of toast and a latte too many hours ago, and you were too nervous for your performance review to even think about a snack. 

Namjoon chuckles. “Let’s do this over lunch, then. I’m starving, too.” 

You draw your coat around you when you step out of the office. The temperature has dropped decidedly in the past few days. No more sunny autumn days, just the impending chill of a snow-filled winter. You wrap your arms around your stomach in the pretext of warding off the chill.

In reality, you stomach is doing flips, and you don’t know if it’s because you’re hungry or because you’re nervous for your performance review. Objectively, you know you’re doing well. You’re efficient and ruthless in court, but when it comes to performance reviews, you’ve been blindsided before.

It’s almost inevitable that you end up at Cat’s Pajamas. It’s close to the office, they serve delicious food, and the owner, a slim, quiet man named Yoongi, is a longtime friend of Namjoon’s. You’re in there at least once a week, whether for a client meeting or just as an excuse to get out of the office for lunch. Whenever you’re there with your coworkers, you get a little treat sent from the kitchen, usually one of the cookies that Jin, Yoongi’s business partner, makes fresh every morning.

Yoongi stands at the host stand and greets Namjoon with a handshake. 

"Just you two today?" he asks, eyes flitting between you and Namjoon.

Namjoon nods. “How’s business?”

“I think your firm is keeping us afloat,” says Yoongi with a serious face. You think he’s joking.

He leads you to the back of the restaurant. It’s unusually crowded today, with office workers sheltering from the first cold snap of the season. 

Namjoon gestures for you to go first. You don’t know if it’s your imagination, but as you walk through the restaurant, you think you feel a whisper of a touch against your upper back, fingertips gently guiding you through the maze of tables. A shiver runs down your back, and you keep your eyes forward as you walk. You don't look back to confirm.

You're off balance already, and knowing that Namjoon is the type to guide you with a gentle touch would tip you over into the deep end.

Yoongi seats you in your usual booth. This probably means good things for your review, you tell yourself. The booth is secluded enough, but if there was anything serious to discuss, you would hope your boss would have the sense to have this meeting behind closed doors. You place your orders as you sit.

Namjoon takes out a paper form from his briefcase when Yoongi walks away. You must look worried because he gives you a reassuring smile. 

“Just an HR form to document the performance review. It’s dreadfully overdue, but it’s my fault, and I apologize for that. This was supposed to be your three-month review, but we're now at what, five months?"

He makes a face and starts filling out the top of the form. Your heartbeat speeds up and you play with the hem of the tablecloth under the table. Does that face mean good things or bad things? 

He looks up at you with a smile. Good things? 

“Unless you have anything to bring up with me, this is going to be quick. So far, I’m pleased with the work that you’re doing for the firm. Even though you’ve only been with us for a few months, you’ve integrated excellently with the rest of the team. Everyone has nothing but great things to say about working with you, so we can mark all these boxes as exceptional…”

You let out a sigh of relief as he concentrates on ticking boxes and filling out comments. All the tension you had stored up in your shoulders releases as you get the verbal confirmation that your performance has been up to par. 

“And I think that’s it. Anything you want to say to me on the record?” 

An image of Nina making grabby hands rises unbidden, and you have to fight to keep a straight face. 

“I don’t think so. I’ve been happy working here. The work is rewarding and I like your management style. I appreciate that you let us junior associates take ownership of our work and empower us to make our own decisions and mistakes.” 

“Ah, that’s too kind,” he says with a bashful smile, waving away your comments. “I’m glad you’re enjoying your time here." He pauses. "Is that all? No HR complaints to be filed against Jimin?” 

You laugh and shake your head.

“If anything does come up, you know my door is always open.” He looks at you with a serious look. “And I mean that. If you ever need to talk about anything, you can come to me.”

“I appreciate that, boss.” 

His expression flickers at the title, but he gives you a wide smile as he lifts his water glass in a toast. “Then, here’s to a successful working relationship and more wins in court.” 

You clink your glass against his, unable to stop the grin that spreads across your face. 

Lunch arrives soon after and you spend the rest of the hour chatting about an exhibit you both attended at the modern art museum. You get the sense that’s where his passion lies by the way he lights up when he talks about the artist’s specific choice of material for her sculptures and what that conveys about her underlying message on global warming. He makes you promise that you’ll go to the artist’s pop-up exhibit during the Christmas markets. 

You're amazed that he has time for anything outside of work. You barely do, and he’s at the office just as much as you are these days. 

It strikes you that this is the first time you've sat down with Namjoon for a one-on-one meal. Every other time has been a client meeting or after-work drinks with the team. The conversation flows easily and you feel like you could keep talking to him forever.

By the end of the meal, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, and your heart hurts a little because why did you have to meet Namjoon at this stage in your life? You excuse yourself to the restroom, but head to the host stand instead to pay the bill. 

Yoongi waves you off before you can say anything, not even looking up from what he’s writing. “Namjoon’s already paid for it. You’re all good.”

“Oh.” You’re elbow deep in your bag searching for your wallet.

“You know, he’ll never say anything because he’s your boss and all, so you’ll have to make the first move.” 

“Excuse me?”

You freeze before you can extricate yourself from your bag. Is it your imagination, or did he really say what you think he said? You don't know, your heartbeat is so loud in your ears.

“Excuse me?”

He looks up from his notebook, eyebrow raised, looking at you like you’re an idiot. You can feel the tips of your ears turning red. “It’s obvious he likes you. I've seen the way he looks at you whenever you're all in here. And you like him, if I’m not reading you wrong. All of his coworkers are head over heels for him. So you have to make the first move unless you want to be in this—“ he gestures vaguely at you “— forever. He’s a brilliant lawyer, but an idiot when it comes to relationships.” 

“I’m really not sure what you mean.” Your voice comes out in a squeak. You clear your throat and change the subject. “Where’s the restroom?” 

“I think you’ve been here enough times to know where the restroom is.” 

You can't even come up with a retort, you just walk away, cheeks flaming. If Yoongi can tell, everyone probably can.

And yes, you do know exactly where the restroom is.

A/N: Ok my friends! Remember when I said it was slow burn? Fun things should start to happen next chapter 👀 Again, I don't know anything about The Law, so if you do and you see something wrong in this fic, no you didn't, it's my fictional universe and yes this is how the The Law works in my fantasy land thank you. This is the energy I'm bringing to this fic and all my writing, so... yeah, I’d love feedback if you have any, but feel no obligation. Hope you like it ~

©sowoozoo-7 2023

Please do not copy or repost. I do not crosspost anywhere else.

[mayajadewrites]

Almost: Levi Ackerman x Reader

Modern AU Levi Ackerman x Reader fanfic I've been dying to write! Levi is my latest hyper fixation so this was bound to happen. There will be other AOT characters in the mix, but remember this is a modern AU!

Chapter 4 - Tequila

Chapter Summary: Levi has to tend to some work things, which leads you to turn to your second favorite drink to coffee: tequila.

ao3 link

☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕ LEVI ☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕

Fucking Erwin. He never bothers me, but when my dick is hard and I'm making out with a beautiful woman, he decided to call.

"What." I say through my teeth, turning towards the wall.

"Why are you so grumpy?" Erwin asked with a slight giggle.

"It's Saturday, my day off, and you're calling me."

"You never care if you have to take work calls on weekends. Unless -"

"If you finish that sentence I will punch you right into next week."

"Jesus, Levi." I could tell Erwin was shaking his head on the other side of the phone. "We need you to come to the office. One of the stakeholders has dropped out of the latest project and the team is in shambles."

I sucked my teeth, leaning my head back. "I'll be there soon."

The last thing I wanted to do was leave you because 1. I enjoy spending my time with you. 2. My dick is hard as fuck and now I'm gonna have to jerk off later tonight to relieve myself.

When I turn around, you're already up and grabbing my coat for me. Your eyes have a slight sheen to them, almost like you're about to cry.

"I had fun." Your smile is kind, which makes leaving that much harder.

"I'm sorry." I grab my coat from your hands, a sigh leaving my lips.

"We'll talk soon."

☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕ BRATTY BARISTA ☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕

"We'll talk soon." Levi kissed your forehead, leaving your apartment.

What the fuck does that mean? Levi is so elusive, you think you know what he's thinking when in reality you have no idea. You couldn't believe he just... left. You knew it was work related, but still.

But what the hell do you know about being a CEO.

You slid your phone out of your back pocket and typed in Nina's name.

You: Let's go out tonight.

Nina: You've never asked for a girls night out... what's up?

You: Can't I be spontaneous?

Nina: Nope.

You: Well I wanna go out tonight. Are you in or no?

Nina: Duh. I'll be at your place at 8.

Did you want to go out because you wanted to be 'spontaneous' or did you want to go out to get your mind off Levi?

The latter. Obviously.

☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕

Staring at yourself in the full length mirror, you glide your hands over your curves that Levi was touching before. You swear you could still feel his firey touch.

You turned your body to the side, nodding in approval of how your ass looked in your dress. Your heels twist as you take one last look in the mirror before hearing knocking at your door.

Your dress is a black, high neck, ripped dress with a slit to show off your thigh. You paired it with black strappy heels and small gold hoops. Your makeup is different from the usual - still glowy but more dramatic and your hair was in loose waves.

Truth be told, you didn’t want to let yourself fall to fast for Levi. You had 2 dates with him - that didn’t mean he was yours. Not that you even knew what you were, the dating climate is so fucked up that it seems like everyone just wants to hook up but never have a mental and emotional connection.

You’ve hooked up with plenty of guys before, but they’ve never made you cum. How sad is that? With the amount of dicks that have been inside you, not one actually pleasured you.

“Knock knock!” Nina interrupted your thoughts. “Can you let me in?”

The sound of your heels against the hardwood floor echoed. “Sorry!” You open the door with a smile. Nina greets you with a hug and a bottle of tequila.

“I brought your favorite so we can pregame! The club won’t be actually fun until like 11.”

“Give me that.” You swipe the bottle, unscrewing the cap and pouring a shot in your mouth.

“Damn, bad date?”

“Not bad, but he left when we were getting hot and heavy.”

“Um what?” Nina’s eyes were in disbelief.

“Yeah. Let’s not talk about it.” Your mind wanders to your phone. You put it on do not disturb and haven’t checked it since you asked Nina if she wanted to go out.

Nina could talk for hours. She told you about her latest flings, some work gossip, and how she thinks she’s now lactose intolerant.

4 shots later, you and Nina were buzzed. Nina called the Uber, and you both were off.

The club was about a 15 minute drive away. It’s a newer club that everyone was at every weekend.

You felt your phone buzz in your purse, but did nothing. The Uber pulled up to the club around 10:30. You could faintly hear the music from the building, bodies flooding into the doors.

☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕

“Tequila pineapple, please.” You ask the bartender, handing him a $10.

“There’s so many cute guys here!” Nina wiggled her hips to the music, sipping her drink.

Nina is right, there are a lot of cute guys here.

None of them come close to Levi Ackerman.

But that man is not yours.

Bzzzzzz.

You ignore your phone again, swaying to the beat. You feel a body crash into yours, slightly spilling your drink.

“I am so sorry.” A taller man said, grabbing napkins from the bar behind him. “I should look where I’m going.”

The man had light brown hair that matched his eyes. His body towered over yours as he handed you napkins. “My name is Jean.”

You tell Jean your name, shaking his hand softly. “It’s okay, no big deal.” You sipped your drink, feeling your anxiety fade away. “You owe me another drink though.”

“Honestly, I wanted to get you one anyways. You look gorgeous.”

A blush graced your cheeks as you walked to the bar, ordering another tequila pineapple.

Bzzzz.

Bzzzz.

Bzzzz.

Nina found you and brought 3 new friends: Eren, Armin, and Mikasa. Eren had longish hair with green eyes, Armin sported blonde locks with stunning blue eyes, and Mikasa was one of the most gorgeous women you’ve ever seen. Dark and sharp features. You might also be scared of her.

“You found Jean!” Eren laughed, punching his shoulder lightly. “We’ve been looking for you!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jean placed his hand on your waist swaying slowly to the beat of the music.

Bzzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzzz.

“Ugh, one second.” You pulled away from Jean, taking your phone out of your purse.

Levi: 10 unread texts

Levi: 11 missed calls

As you were putting your phone in your purse, a call popped up.

Levi is calling…📞

“Hello?” You covered one of your ears, trying to hear him over the music.

“Where the fuck are you?” Levi’s tone was filled with anger. “I’ve been calling you for hours.”

“I’m out. Is that okay?” The sarcasm jumped from your tongue.

“Where.”

“Where what?”

“Where are you?”

“Ummmm. The club is called Vibe. I’m not sure where though.”

“Why haven’t you been -“

“Gotta go!” You pressed the big red button, throwing your phone in your purse.

Jean dances with you for a few more songs, asking about your life as much as he could since it’s so loud in the club.

Then you feel a familiar hand on your waist, forcefully pulling you into him.

[anonymouspuzzler]

ok back to your regularly scheduled Lobotos. featuring design notes, parenthood speculation, and some primo Crossover Content slash preview of some more shit you're gonna be seeing in this queue real soon

(alt text/image IDs under the cut!)

[Image 1 ID: A design sketch of Loboto standing upright with a neutral expression, wearing only black boxer shorts, missing his prosthetic arm and shower cap. His left arm is sticking straight out in a t-pose. There is a detail shot of his head in profile to the side. Next to him are design notes reading: - about 1 head taller than Sasha/Milla, nearly 2x coach - stick build, but with tummy; legs taper out at ankles - numerous stitches on head, sloppy stitches on arm stump, scar on side (stolen kidney), throw misc injuries (scars, burns etc.) where appropriate - sparse body hair; hair on head is in uneven chunks (growing unevenly around scar tissue) - avoid making feet too long, they're actually pretty tiny - extremely minimal chin; profile should always look slouched at neck/shoulders]

[Image 2 ID: An additional design sketch based on the previous image, showing how the shower cap and prosthetic layer on top of Loboto's body type; the glove on his left arm and a pair of torn-up jeans have been drawn in as well. Next to him are design notes reading: - prosthetic slightly out of proportion with real arm, a little too short - harness tightens at shoulder, possibly buckles for straps underneath, release at end of sleeve where wooden arm starts? (built to stay on tight, not for easy removal; muted pain response minimizes discomfort) - forearm & hand is fully just a pepper grinder with thin claws (leave deliberately unclear how it moves; unconscious TK?) - in close-up make bolts & stitches uneven and sloppy; done one-handed, no finesse, poss. w/non dominant hand - 3 cap patches, far left, small far right, one at top/back; covers most hair & scars - pants should always be a little too short unless implied to be specially tailored; he's too dang tall for fast fashion - all "his" clothes should be worn out, torn up, poorly/not repaired; intact clothes should be visibly stolen slash "borrowed"]

[Image 3 ID: Three drawovers of the Loboto design from the first image, showing him in different sets of clothing, labeled "alt outfit samples". The top option shows him in a baggy t-shirt that hangs off his shoulders and only reaches midway down his stomach, and drawstring-tied shorts that are baggy at the legs, cinched extremely tight at the waist, and barely cover his boxers; this set is labeled "coach". The rightmost option shows him in a bulky turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up, over which is a long sleeveless dress; this set is labeled "sasha & milla". The final, bottom-and-leftmost option shows him in his usual boots and torn-up jeans, as well as a better-fitting turtleneck with only the sleeve on his prosthetic rolled up, and an apron reaching mid-thigh with the Psychonauts logo on the top-left corner; this set is labeled "uniform".]

[Image 4-5 IDs: A two-panel black-and-white comic showcasing Puzz thinking through Loboto design options. A doodle of Puzz, wearing a t-shirt and overalls and looking thoughtful, thinks "I wonder... what IS the best way to stylize Loboto with his eyes closed?" There are three drawings of Loboto's head with his jaw hanging slightly open as he snores. In the first, there are half-moon shapes drawn in his lenses to imply closed eyes, labeled "just shaping the eye part is simple, but do you lose the 'lens' feel...?" The second shows him with his eyes looking completely normal, labeled "is it funnier if his eyes always look open?" The third shows half-moon eyes and the lens frames shaped to match, labeled "you COULD squash and stretch the lenses but that reads like eyebrows..." The second panel, labeled "SOLUTION:" in bold text, shows Loboto lying in bed asleep with his prosthetic removed and left hand draped over his chest, snoring. Rather than any of the previous eye options, he's just wearing a quilted sleep mask over his eyes, with the shape of the lenses visibly bulging underneath.]

[Image 6 ID: A two-panel comic of Loboto and Oleander, asleep next to each other in bed. Loboto is wearing a baggy t-shirt and has his prosthetic off, his left arm behind his head under the pillow, his head tilted to one side. Oleander is to his left, right arm behind him under the pillow, left arm crossed over his chest. The second panel shows Loboto's eye lenses suddenly lighting up with an audible "CLICK.", making Oleander jolt awake.]

[Image 7 ID: A real photo of a sculpted molar on a chain hanging from a big round business sign-frame, which previously made the rounds on Twitter. Drawn on top is Loboto, beaming and holding a nervous Raz over his head, shouting "RAZ GET THE TOOTH".]

[Image 8 ID: A drawing of Loboto reaching up rapturously towards a photo of a calzone. I can't explain this one.]

[Image 9 ID: A drawing of a shirtless Loboto, wearing his shower cap but not his prosthetic, sitting up sleepily in a pile of pillows. He is covered from the waist down by a thick blanket with a wavy pattern.]

[Image 10 ID: A black and white drawing of Loboto, grinning and giving a thumbs-up at the camera with his left hand, and the G-Man from Half-Life, smirking at the camera and holding his left arm at his side, shaking hands. I can't really explain this one either.]

[Image 11 ID (MAJOR PSYCHONAUTS 2 SPOILERS IN DESCRIPTION): A four-panel comic of Loboto. In the first, he is grinning nervously, left hand on his hip and right prosthetic arm gesturing vaguely, saying "Sorry, kid, can't tell ya aaanything 'bout this job"; in the background, roughly where he's gesturing, is a figment of Truman's brain case on a shelf. In the second panel, his grin has grown even more anxious, and he is shrugging up towards a lamp that resembles Gristol's crown, saying "Yeah, just. Nothin' I can say 'bout my boss." The third shows him standing on a representation of the swirling pattern outside the Astralathe, gesturing broadly with a very anxious expression, under an even larger crown-lamp and surrounded by framed posters with various telling images (an egg in a basket, the mobster tooth fairy, Maligula's eyes, a box with an arrow pointing inside, a skull with crossed-out eyes) and text ("SHHHH", "NOT YOUR REAL DAD", "HELP", "VISIT DROWNED GRULOVIA", "THEY HAVE MY KID'S ADDRESS"). Loboto, frantic, screams "LOOK AT ME HERE SAYING NOTHING *OUT LOUD* ABOUT MY BOSS". The final panel shows a confused Raz and frustrated Sasha standing nearby, both in their suits, Sasha smoking a cigarette and saying, "He's giving us nothing". Loboto, collapsed in an anguished heap on the floor, whimpers, "I'm going to die here."]

[Image 12 ID: A black-and-white drawing of Loboto, grinning and giving two thumbs-up, wearing a crop-top t-shirt reading "WORLD'S LEAST-ISH ARRESTED DAD".]

[Image 13 ID: A black-and-white drawing of Loboto leaning out of the window of a beat-up, welded-together franken-car, smiling widely and waving with his prosthetic arm. There is smoke emitting from the back, a vanity plate reading "T33TH80", and bumper stickers reading "HONK IF U HAVE TEETH" and "MY CHILD IS AN HONOR STUDENT". Standing behind the car, slouched-over and holding a suitcase in his left hand, is Dart.]

[Image 14 ID: A black-and-white drawing of Loboto speaking into a phone held in his left hand, twirling the cord in one of the fingers of his prosthetic. He says into the receiver, "Heyyy, kiddo, it's dad. Listen, you know cool pre-teen slang, don't you? Can you explain 'cringe' to me real quick? I gotta figure out if I'm being flirted with or insulted or both."]

[Image 15 ID: A sketchy black-and-white drawing of Loboto speaking on a phone, sitting backwards in a wooden chair. The phone cradle is sitting on the floor, and the cord is tangled in the fingers of Loboto's prosthetic, which is hanging over the back of the chair. He glares at the receiver and says, "Look, I know the brain's still in his head, but you didn't *specify* it had to be *removed* in the contract, so I say you owe me that bonus! C'mon, work with me here! My kid wants to go to band camp!" Phoebe, sitting in a beanbag to the left of him listening to a walkman, looks up disdainfully and corrects, "I said I wanted my tracks *on* Bandcamp, dad."]

[Image 16 ID: A black-and-white illustration of Phoebe sitting at a drumset, with Loboto lying on the floor in front of it, reading a dentistry book, head leaning against the bass drum. Phoebe is holding a drumstick in each hand and glaring down at the set, steam coming out of her ears, saying, "Ooough...!! This stupid solo's getting me so steamed!!!" Loboto replies, "Mmm, steam's fine, but no fire, sweetie, all right? Remember the hospital blocked daddy's number."]

[Image 17-18 IDs: A two-panel comic of Loboto and Phoebe. In the first, Loboto is kneeling on the ground hugging Phoebe tightly, shoulders shaking and a tear leaking out of his eye. Phoebe, dangling slightly even with Loboto crouching, grabbing at his arm with one hand, groans, "Daaaaad you're so *embarrassing*." The second panel shows Loboto, now standing with Phoebe hanging limply in his arms and looking back at him with mild irritation, staring dumbfounded at a wrecked, burning car. The speech balloons read: Loboto: "This isn't one of yours is it sweetie" Phoebe: "No one can prove anything" Loboto: "okay it's just daddy's car is still three towns over and we were gonna get a ride home from daddy's boyfriend in this car" Phoebe: "your *what,*"]

[Image 19 ID: A black-and-white illustration of Dr. Habit from Smile for Me and Loboto having an animated conversation. Puzz's anxious yet furious face is barely peeking into frame from the very bottom of the image.]

[Image 20 ID: A black-and-white illustration featuring Loboto and Phoebe alongside Habit, Putunia and Kamal from Smile for Me. Phoebe, grinning mischievously, is using pyrokinesis to light Putunia's boxing glove on fire, to her visible delight. Habit has gone into a panicked crouch at the sight, while Loboto, looking over a jar of teeth, looks over in mild surprise. Kamal is running up holding a fire extinguisher from the other side of the screen, motion-blurred and screaming.]

[alyjojo]

New Year Reading for 2024! 🌟 - Leo

Preshuffle: You could see the reappearance of an ex, or someone that made you feel like you weren’t a priority, doesn’t have to be an ex at all (for some it is). They may have brushed you off and made it seem like you weren’t that important to them, or they just didn’t care, didn’t ask you out on a second/tenth date, haven’t heard from them for years even. Could be other people too, friends, family, etc. They may make the effort to show you they care *now* and it’s like now you don’t, you don’t even want it anymore, they’re too late, or it’s been too long and you’ve moved onto other things. Or you’ve just seen their true colors in this time that’s passed, could be that too. They say “distance makes the heart grow fonder.” But in this case, it’s like distance has shown you what is toxic af and you’re actually good.

Meditation: It made me laugh. I never made it to your door, we were in the hallway to get to your door and it was just a zoo of animals everywhere, but specific ones, that went specific places, none of which were yours. But you were cleaning it all up. There were small alligators 🐊 that needed to be re-caged, and you put them inside of Pisces’ door. There were several (nice, but intimidating) big snakes 🐍 that you also caged and set inside Scorpio’s door. The last animals were some small white lab rats 🐁 with the red eyes, those went in Taurus’ door. You sighed happily and brushed your hands off like “job well done”, and as you were walking past Aquarius’s door, it opened and they threw a water balloon right at your head, then closed their door and you could hear them chuckling on the other side of it. You just muttered “asshole” and then went to your own door & went in. I can’t know what any of these mean for you, because they’re all so specific, it’s going to relate to you all individually. For some, you’re cleaning up other’s messes, happily, and you deserve some appreciation. For some the literal signs and animals may mean something. I don’t know where Pisces fits in, unless it’s Saturn, but the rest are all fixed (squared/opposing you) and it would make sense that there could be some aggravation with them. Not just this year 😆 This could also be referring to Pluto’s final dance between Aqua and Cap throughout the year, a “water balloon” may hit you unexpectedly between Jan-Julyish.

🔸 Whole of Your Energy: Judgement & 5 Pentacles

Regarding: The Lovers & 4 Cups

This is the exact same energy from your preshuffle, the exact SAME cards, same order even. That’s crazy yo’. Relationships are definitely dominating your year, one in particular that I just don’t think you’re happy with, because the committed relationships area mirrors this too. For some, it can be a Twin Flame 🔥 thing, not all. For some it’s just realizing you’re bored, unhappy, you could feel like your partner doesn’t even really care about you or this relationship. Judgement is a powerful energy to be your first card, it’s ruled by Pluto, and it’s taking everything into account, all of your experiences up to this point, to determine if you should end something for good, nail the coffin shut, or if it can be transformed in a whole new way - can this be fixed and brought back? Mostly directed towards relationships, especially for the risings.

If it’s a Twin, you wonder if you should leave, if they’ll ever come back, or whether it’s a Twin at all, because you’ve also pulled The Astronomer…showing you could get a little too caught up in things like astrology, twin flames, tarot, “what does it mean??” 💀, and more or less acting kinda fanatical with things that can’t ever fully be explained. We’re not God, we don’t know. A side note, this tarot and astrology stuff can be helpful, and useful, but if it becomes obsessive or you start basing your whole life & decisions over what tarot lady said that day, it’s a fine line of spiritual/delusion. Especially with general readings, not all of them involve you at all, don’t force things where they don’t actually exist 🙏 If it sounds like you, you get goosebumps and just know it, take it. Astrology can tell you a lot, but we can’t predict death, just difficult time periods, “maybes”. It’s good to have faith in some kind of belief system or see the deeper meanings to things, many of you are becoming more spiritual, tuning in to your own higher selves, just yanno…balance it. Turn it off sometimes. Take naps. Go outside. Plan an adventure. Have fun. Be human. Too much of anything can drive you crazy.

If someone is coming back around, you could panic and worry this is your only chance, but you don’t even want it, how does that happen? Or that could describe the other person. Some of you could be putting a flame 🔥 label on someone that’s not, and more research needs to be done on what that actually is. Some are genuine. They’re not your *only* soulmate regardless, and hot take here: I don’t personally believe anyone’s soul is ripped in half, they’re just aligned to match you. There are dozens of soulmates here, and past life connections, and those were once brand new connections, so don’t discount those either. When in doubt, throw it all out the window and just have faith, what’s meant to be yours will be yours, you don’t have to worry so much. Free will is very much a thing, if you don’t want it, you’re not stuck with it. Just the lesson part. Some of you are having to deal with abandonment issues when it comes to love, which may stem from other issues in the past - but be playing out in this way. You could have rough mental health days, or go back and forth between fine and not fine, it’s possible you’re with someone that greatly affects your own mental state, and that’s where Courage comes in for you, handling stressful situations or even letting them go, because you have to walk away from ick feelings, and worry about your own state of mind & happiness ❤️ For some, it could be the other person that acts like they don’t care, and you don’t know what to do with that, or if that’s how they *really* are/feel, you’re afraid to know because you fear they’ll leave. Isn’t it better to know though?

Main Oracle: also connected to relationships

42 Courage

Have the courage to see the lessons in all situations and face them constructively.

🔸 Character Card: The Astronomer 🌙

Sitting in the dark with their head in one of many books on stars, The Astronomer looks for answers to their questions, based on scientific fact & proven knowledge. But this situation isn’t one described by books, it’s tricky, one you’ve never experienced (possibly most haven’t experienced), and nothing can tell you what to do about it - but your gut is telling you. Tuning out what others think they know, or even logical explanations of things, would be beneficial to you, because deep down only you know how to handle the situations coming your way, or that you’re involved in. Others can’t understand what’s going on in the same way, and there’s no way to “prove” what you know to be right, except that you just know, and you have to act according to what you know. Only you would know.

🔸 Relationship: The Devil & The Hanged Man

Regarding: 5 Wands

Your person plays you with/against other people? Are they constantly comparing you to others, ex’s, family members, friends and their own relationships? Do you feel like it’s a constant comparison or competition when it shouldn’t be? Maybe this person really likes attention, and they indulge flirtations or crushes from other people. Maybe they’ve actually acted on these things, or reciprocated in inappropriate ways that have hurt you and caused you to mistrust them. Could be an addiction. Or an obsession. Could be you too. Or for you the toxicity may simply be codependency. You know it’s not good for you, but you avoid facing it or doing anything about it, you don’t want this to end. It doesn’t get better, or worse, it stays exactly the same - The Hanged Man, and you try to gain some perspective to think of…what can I do? You can’t do your part and theirs too, if they’re giving you nothing but apathy, what are you hanging onto? The competitiveness of this could be what’s got you stuck on a person. You’re not happy but you’ll be damned if someone else has them. Most of this is going on inside, I’m not sure what they even know, there’s not a lot of communication between you (that I see). For some of you, that’s probably where to start. Others of you already know it’s done. Or needs a complete overhaul - Pluto 💯

Couples Oracles: Courage again from Main

74 - Contest

Be yourself fully and you are without compare, a true winner of the only contest that matters.

🔸 Singles: Ace of Swords & 10 Wands

Regarding: King of Wands

Short and to the point, you have problems communicating. Single or coupled up, you are showing up as someone that holds in your feelings and just never expresses them. That’s what’s standing in your way - 10 Wands, and you’re exhausted with attempts where you’ve tried, maybe with the responses you’ve gotten in the past. Something hurtful lingers in your energy and you blame it on someone outside of yourself, which may be true for whatever has hurt you. But you don’t see that if you can’t communicate, you can’t have a relationship, others can’t just understand how you feel or where you’re coming from. If you’re still hurting from the last person, I don’t see you even wanting another one. You may even attract several people and not really take them up on anything, not responding, not speaking up, not responding to others’ flirty energy. If you do, it will be more surface level, and you won’t be honest about who you really are or what you’ve been through, because it’s like you can’t, it makes you sad. Or you don’t want the sympathy, Leo is a very proud sign. You need more processing time, there is no rush, not in this area anyway. Some of you could be single parents and find it hard to find the time or even the desire to try dating, or you could specifically not want to date people with kids, and that’s just not an option right now. I’ve been asking for a card here to describe any potential options, and yours won’t even give me one, it’s just like “nah”, so…maybe talking to people, flirting a bit, but it doesn’t go far, that I can see.

🔸 Career: Page of Pentacles & 10 Cups

Regarding: Temperance

Relationships come out here too. It’s like everything you’re doing is for the sake of family & possibly children. You could live with family, literally work with your family, or there’s a nod towards those in relationships - have an extremely overbearing partner that kinda controls what moves you make in all regards. Or an ex. It’s like you work hard everyday, and you’re doing well, these are all great cards. It’s all for the sake of keeping the peace in your family unit. Some of you may be offering a job to someone in your family, or even working with your partner, that could create some of the difficulties between you, being with them every second of every day. With that, some could work at home or be stay-at-home parents. Again, some of you are just single parents, and you go to work so you can pay for the home that you raise your kids in, it’s all about maintaining that work/home balance that takes priority over everything else.

There’s a story about maybe still living with family and not really working because you’re going to school full time and being supported in that way. There could be someone in the home that’s drama, and they irritate you, or they always have something to say like you’re not “providing” when no shit, you’re in school. Success is attached to whatever you’re doing, and 10 Cups is the goal you’re working towards, that all feels very positive and you’ll spend most of your energy “coasting along” towards your goal, I don’t see any hiccups there. Someone that irritates you, or thinks you should even be working “for them” on your off time or something, could be an earth sign. If it’s just Mom/partner asking you to do your share of the chores, that’s fair. You could also be working towards starting some side hustle or home business, if so it’s at the very beginning, the planning stages even, and it does have potential to grow 🪴

Career Oracle:

79 Success

Enjoying your life and the unfolding of your creative abilities as much as possible is real success.

🔸 What needs to be left behind in 2023: 2 Pentacles & 7 Pentacles

Regarding: 8 Wands

Waiting, procrastinating, giving things too much time to make a decision or putting things off, the lack of taking action. Along with that though is a lack of planning, you don’t like to plan things before you do them, I’m getting that you just kinda put it off, again and again, and then when you’re ready to take action it’s impulsive & spontaneous, expecting immediate results. Instead of planned out, scheduled, long term thinking, building up to the place where you want to go, you either talk yourself out of it, or don’t take it seriously enough and just kinda let things fall behind. Relating to communication, taking too long with that too, or not responding, maybe defensive communication, or defensive attitudes towards practical help, planners, input from others who have the thing you want to do. No plan and no advice either…well 🤷🏻‍♀️ What outcome do you want? For some it could be needing to apologize to someone, or releasing the hope you’re going to get one from someone where it’s just not coming. Every story is the same in that - it’s been long enough.

Leave Behind Oracle:

07 Procrastination

Stop focusing on your problems and excuses; take a small step and do something constructive.

7777 shows that by avoiding taking action and waiting around, possibly avoiding resistance from a partner specifically for some of you, you’re blocking your own success and then feeling defensive about it. Or your person could feel this way about you, one of you is getting in the way of the other’s career. Or schooling, kids, family, that’s possible too, but career is centered on this somehow. People pleasing instead of acting in one’s best interest - Libra South Node is pushing for that mentality to be released, all through the year. For some it could be a rift in these things, or you’re the issue here that needs to heal and it’s on you to do it. You are not your partner, or relationship, you are an independent being, don’t get confused about that, and it’s possible others could use a reminder.

Astrological Shifts in 2023 (for Risings):

Jan 01 - Mercury direct in Sag

Jan 21 - Pluto enters Aqu (again) - 7th House ❤️

Feb 14 - Mars conj. Pluto Aquarius - 7th House ❤️ - likely intense, sexual, powerful, & transformative

Mar 09 - Mars Aqua squares Uranus Tau at 5:55 P.M. - likely a day of conflict - 7th ❤️ vs. 10th 🔨 could be dealing with partnerships at work, a hit to the reputation or image, or conflict between these things and partnerships, someone may be instigating bs

Mar 21 - Venus conj Saturn Pis - love & boundaries go hand in hand

Mar 25 - Lunar Eclipse in Lib - 3rd 🗣️

Apr 01 - Mercury retrogrades Ari - 9th 😇 - travel issues highlighted specifically

Apr 08 - Solar Eclipse in Ari - continued lessons from the nodes throughout this year, issues between masculine/feminine likely, father/mother, action/reception, others/self

Apr 24 - Mercury direct

May 18 - Venus conj Uranus & Sun conj Jupiter, all in Taurus - 10th 🔨 all very positive energies, you could see expansion in your career, move up, make more, get paid 💯, find a cash cow of a client, good fortune

May 25 - Jupiter enters Gem - 11th 🤝 a great transit for networking & making friends, good times are highlighted and fortunate contacts

May 29 - Mars conj Chiron Ari @ 22’ - 9th 😇 be careful traveling or driving around this time, no texting, positively you may be expanding your mind and learning about your own pain, seeing things from a new perspective and taking action based on what you’ve learned

June 29 - Lilith enters Lib - 3rd 🗣️, likely to only be felt if/when it aspects a personal planet or is triggered by someone else’s, your words may be particularly venomous, or you may be triggered & pissed off by things other people say, good aspect for filthy messages

July 06 - Venus Can square Chiron Ari - 12th 😵‍💫 vs. 9th 😇, spiritual experiences and awakenings are likely on some level, you may have prophetic dreams or intuitive hunches that lead you in positive directions or heal a wound, counseling is beneficial at this time, or any learning about topics related to mental health, relaxation, spirituality & calming the mind.

Aug 04 - Mercury retrogrades Vir-Leo - 2nd 💰 & 1st 🫵, overspending is possible, or hassles regarding returns, missed packages, possible scams & fraud, be careful with your personal information and where it goes, you may be overcharged for something

Aug 19 - Venus Vir opposes Saturn Pis & Jupiter Gem squares both - T square of 2nd 💰, 8th ☠️, and 11th 🤝 has to do with finances, commissions, investments, wills, contracts, a deal could go sour or a contract needs to be reworked, financial loss is possible

Aug 27 - Mercury direct Leo

Sept 01 - Pluto enters Cap (last time) - 6th 🤒🐶

Sept 16 - Venus Lib opposes Chiron Ari @ 22’ - 3rd 🗣️ vs. 9th 😇 - not a fan of the degree being 22’, involves or address pain with siblings, travel, foreign places or people, unlearning old bs, what’s learned initially or young vs. what you know now, it can be healing in this way

Sept 17 - Partial Lunar Eclipse Pis - 8th ☠️, preparing for the nodes to shift next year

Oct 02 - Solar Eclipse Lib - 3rd 🗣️

Nov 19 - Pluto enters Aqu (for good) - 7th ❤️

Nov 25 - Mercury retrogrades Sag - 5th 🎉

Dec 06 - Mars retrogrades Leo - 1st 🫵 - you’re liable to be forced to slow down or reevaluate your direction in some way, progress is halted for now

Dec 15 - Mercury direct Sag

Dec 24 - Jupiter Gem squares Saturn Pis - 11th 🤝 vs. 8th ☠️, could deal with people that aren’t with you anymore, passed on loved ones or friends, reminiscing or honoring them with others, could also relate to sales contracts, investments or joint financial ventures that maybe aren’t equal or there’s an imbalance.

[wallspikes]

Chapter 4

almost as the clock strikes 12 here is chapter FOUR. one whole year later. sorry. i cant expect myself to meet deadlines i make for myself. i think its like 3.5k words o7

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Gio, no doubt sitting in the ruins of a sand dune beyond the lengths of repair, and more than likely covered in a plethora of various bug bites, felt that he was building more bridges than he had burned in the past day. The little man hadn’t run for cover the minute he’d sat down to make himself comfortable, though they still looked ready to jump away at the first sign of danger. Gio guessed he could count that as a success.

The time on his phone was a little after twelve-thirty— Gio finished off the last of the granola bar and tucked the wrapper into his pocket. He peered down at the stranger, who warily glanced up at him. The expression on their face was uncertain, their eyebrows upturned in worried arches, their cheeks a blotchy red; Gio remembered they were crying while he tried to free them from the net. He suddenly felt bad for making them stand there. “You can leave if you want,” he offered, “I’m not trying to keep you here. B-But, that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate this, of course!” 

“I didn’t know if you were real or not, coming out here,” he started, scratching the back of his neck. “My sister saw the bite you gave me and told me it looked like some animal, and I was sorta starting to believe her..?” Gio shrugged the feeling of doubt away and grinned, “So, thanks for talking to me— or, uh, standing with me. It's nice to not feel crazy.”

The little man shifted in their spot, awkwardly kicking sand to cover their feet only to shake it off again. Despite the dismissal, they still stood rooted to their spot, with no intention of leaving, it seemed. They moved to hold the peanut beneath an arm and instead focused on the sticky knots that matted their beard from the honey of the granola bar.

Gio watched them tug at their beard, wincing each time their neck jerked from a particularly stubborn clump until the secondhand pain became too much to bear. “Here,” he offered, leaning over to pull a water bottle from his backpack, “Have some water. It might help get the honey out before you rip off your beard.”

The stranger's hand pulled from their beard, their grooming interrupted as Gio reached for his backpack. They clutched the peanut with white knuckles and curled their toes in the sand, charged to bolt if Gio decided to make any more sudden movements. Gio offered a placating hand, his water bottle gripped in the other fist. “Sorry—!” He mumbled, embarrassed at his lack of foresight, “I'll move slower, promise.”

Gio could feel the little man's eyes intently on him as he carefully poured a capful of water, as though every little move he made was under the most intense scrutiny. He placed it a few steps away from his calf and quickly withdrew his hands, waiting for the stranger to make their decision. They considered the offering, then turned to the nearby underbrush; Gio could watch the wheels turn in their head as they weighed the benefits of freshwater against the safety of the bramble. Mindlessly, a hand reached up to fiddle with their beard, but recoiled at the feeling of matted knots. They turned to the capful of water again with a hesitant expression.

”You don't need to worry,“ Gio assured them, “It's just water. It’s a little warm. But I promise it’s clean, I’ve been drinking it all day. Uh, unless you're worried about germs, or something— I can't promise you it's that clean.“

The stranger stared up at him for a few moments, that same worried expression still on their face, and Gio waited with bated breath. He could feel the little man searching for a lie in his expression, and Gio hoped he wasn't falsely showing one. He offered a smile, friendly and hopeful as he tried to hide his nervousness. Thankfully, though, the stranger's scrutiny didn't last much longer— they seemed to come to the conclusion that they could tolerate his presence for a little longer if it benefited them, whatever Gio's motives were.

Gio watched curiously as the little man pulled the cap of water further from his calf and started to drink, cupping handfuls of water to their mouth with rapid fervor; they must've been thirstier than they let on. Once their beard was thoroughly soaked, they worked on tugging out the knots again, this time with ease. Gio grinned, satisfied that the man appeared a little better, but he still wished he could get a closer look at them.

His little guest still entertained themself with the cap of water, dipping their face in the pool, their peanut temporarily discarded at their side. Gio waited until their face was submerged to begin to move, slowly crossing his legs until he could lean his elbows into the sand and stare down at the man as if studying a particularly interesting insect.

When they lifted their head and wiped the water from their eyes, the stranger caught sight of Gio looming over them and leapt away, the capful of water spilling in their haste. They stood, charged to run. Gio watched their every little movement with quiet fascination. He absorbed every detail— from the messy stitches in their clothes to the pinkish sunburn that colored their skin. Their expression was tight with worry and their hair bristled on end as Gio’s eyes passed closely over them. Out from the sides of their thick, full hair stuck two large, round ears that twitched at every little sound. Gio exhaled — still awed by the existence of the little man — and accidentally rustled the hair of the stranger. “Sorry,” he leaned back, suddenly beginning to worry all this studying might kill them, “You’re just really cool.”

There was no response. Gio watched the man’s puffed-up fur gradually start to settle. They patted down any patches that persisted in a bristle. Gio sat back on his heels, reached to check for the time, and felt the weight of his eyelids double the second the number ticked on screen. 

Gio yawned, exhaustion beginning to catch up with him as the night continued in its standing lull. He turned his head up to the sky, past the tall bushes and the bamboo to stare at the stars, and sighed. “I should probably go home.” More of a statement than a suggestion, he reached behind himself for his backpack. “Are you headed home soon?”

The redhead straightened up a bit at being addressed, and responded with a quick nod. They took a few steps towards the bushes. 

“Cool.” Gio craned his neck over the bushes, then through their lower brambles. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was looking for — a small, dollhouse-like structure beneath the leaves, or a glimmer of light? — but he saw nothing. He tugged on his backpack. “Do you want me to walk you back?” He tried.

They looked uncomfortable with the suggestion, slightly curling in on themself while they bared a set of awkwardly grimacing yellowing teeth. They shook their head for good measure, though Gio had already gotten the message. Disappointed, he nodded. “Well, what if we meet up again sometime?” Gio held out hope for another shot.

No harsh reaction immediately followed the inquiry, which Gio took for a good sign, though the long pauses of blank stares were equally just as unnerving. He held his breath while he waited for an answer, watching the little man thoughtfully square their jaw as their eyes quickly snapped to meet his, like they were searching for the source of an ulterior motive there. For some reason, Gio felt himself getting nervous — was he hiding something? He didn’t think so. Regardless, he did his best not to show it. 

When the little man found nothing in his eyes, they subtly let their jaw relax and rumbled an exhausted growl of relief. Their expression betrayed the sound, their brow still pulled tightly to their nose, upturned with worry — Gio had half a mind to ask if they always looked like that, though he was beginning to become more unsure if the question would be answered with a ‘no.’ But, even so, as they hesitantly shrugged — a response that could realistically be a polite decline, had the little man meant it that way — Gio was ecstatic. “That’s great!” He exclaimed, the nervousness that had seized him just moments before making way for a giddy feeling of enthusiasm. “What’s best for you? Should I come here, or do you want to start coming to me…?”

Shellshocked, but too reserved to correct Gio if their intention had been to deny, they slowly pointed at him. The man seemed fairly settled in his decision, though Gio was still a bit unsure of the agreement. “You want to come to me?” The little man nodded. “Okay, yeah! That works fine.”

He knelt on the boardwalk and leaned over the lip until he spotted the little red-headed man slightly tucked away into the foliage. “I live on Atlantic, if that means anything,” he grinned, pointing through the trees and bushes, “It’s two walks over, just skip the first one; the gray house is mine. It has our name on it— well, it says ‘Clark,’ which is my last name. I’m there pretty often, if you need anything. Or if you just want to say hi.”

The little man glanced in the direction he was pointing, as if to politely consider the offer before giving their answer — then nodded. Gio, hovering upside down over the edge of the boardwalk, gave an excited thumbs up, “Great! My family’s fine, so if you see them, don’t get too concerned. But, uh, I’ll try to find time out there at night for myself, so you can talk to just me, if you want.”

The man didn’t respond this time, their expression only tightening a bit — an expression Gio couldn’t quite get the read on that he would have liked. He left the conversation at that. “I hope you… feel better. Sorry, again, about everything.” A pause. “Yeah,” he added, “I’ll see you later… Have a good night, man.”

Gio stood, dusted off his knees and knocked the sand from his shoes, gave the tattered net a grim once-over, and had half a mind to break the thing over his knee — but, ultimately, decided against it after remembering the last time he was whacked from the recoil of a fishing pole. 

As he walked home, suddenly more aware of each footfall with the knowledge of the man who lived beneath the boardwalk, Gio let his mind wander to his family — how would they react to seeing a man a fraction of their size? Living, breathing, thinking? Would they take it well?

Should he even tell them…?

Gio let the thought ruminate. There was no guarantee they’d even see the little guy if he never told them about them. If the stranger showed up at their doorstep looking for a conversation, Gio was certain they’d hide from unknown family members, whether they knew about them or not — though, they’d probably appreciate it if his family wasn’t chasing after them, like he had. Gio shrugged to himself. He wouldn’t tell his family, to save everyone the hassle.

Plus, he wasn’t sure he had taken the news so well himself.

Sure, stumbling across the little guy in the gully left him fascinated and even more curious by the bizarre discovery, but he thought back to the feeling of the man in his palm… they couldn’t have weighed more than a few ounces — not even a pound — and when they stood before him for their mimed conversation, Gio couldn’t help but notice how pale and thin their body was. 

Gio slowed his pace as he thought. Was the stranger hungry? Sick? He wished they had taken more food, if that was the case. He could spare it easily— though, with the way the little guy struggled to carry their cargo after the hopefully- generous-enough offering, the issue seemed not to come in the offering, but in receiving. There was no way they could have comfortably brought more food home. Maybe he could bring some more interesting things next time he planned to look for the stranger again. Or, he could wrap a few provisions in some napkins and leave them on the little man’s doorstep, once he knew where it was. He just hoped the man was eating comfortably.

The idea that they might not be bothered him. He’d never seen a person like that before, but the fact that there was one meant that there had to be more — were they all so thin? Hanging so closely to the threat of starvation that their skin paled and pulled tight to the bone? He hoped not. He hoped his little stranger was just an outlier. 

Gio realized, as he found himself a few paces from his doorstep, that he hadn’t been watching his feet while he was lost in thought about the nutrition of the little man. In a heart-wrenching panic, he glanced back at the boardwalk, dreading to find any unfortunate soul who’d wandered into his path, but thankfully found nothing in the dim reflection of moonlight off the wooden slats. He sighed, and resigned himself to his screen-paneled front door — where he made sure not to let it slam behind him, or let the hinges squeak too loudly.

As his phone’s clock turned past one-thirty in the morning, he turned its flashlight to the floor, kicked off his sneakers, and softly found his way up the stairs, around the bend of the hallway and—

“Hey.”

Gio jumped, nearly dropping his phone, but catching it before it could make a parent-waking clatter. Shining his flashlight down the hallway, Nicolette poked her head from her open bedroom door. “Nico!” he hissed, narrowing his eyes at her through the darkness, “What?! Why are you even awake?!”

“It’s not that late. Plus, I heard you sneak out at eleven-thirty and wanted to know where you headed off to without inviting me.” Nicolette leaned against her doorway, “Were you hanging out with Monty again?”

Gio shrugged — it seemed as good a coverup as any, “Yeah. They wanted to sit over by the bay.”

“Why’d you have a net?”

Gio’s flashlight slightly faltered. He could feel this conversation twist itself into an interrogation as the moments passed and the questions became more detailed. It was rare that a Clark sibling conversation could last more than a few minutes without turning into some kind of debate, and it seemed Gio couldn’t save this one’s meager life. “How did you know I had a net?”

Nicolette gestured into her room with a shrug of her shoulders, “You’re not the only one with a window.”

He grit his teeth, “We were catching crabs.”

“What’re you?” Nicolette scoffed, “Seven?”

Gio turned back down the hallway to his own bedroom door and slid his bag inside before he whispered again, his voice exasperated, “Whatever! If you wanna keep talking, come over here. We’re gonna wake up mom and dad.”

His sister huffed, but pushed herself off her doorway nonetheless. She made herself comfortable on the foot of her brother’s bed and leaned her back against the neighboring wall as Gio closed the door behind them — making sure to give the hallway a quick, cursory glance, just in case.

Gio flicked on a lamp and shook some of the long-clinging sand from the legs of his pants — Nicolette fixed him with a studious gaze. He paused. “What?”

She narrowed her eyes, “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing’s going on with me,” Gio lied.

Nicolette ignored him. She pointed to the band-aid on his hand, “First, you come home with your hand mauled. Then, you wander off at night with a net, and won’t tell me where you went. What are you really trying to catch?”

“I told you already,” Gio shrugged, turning to rummage through his dresser for a set of pajamas, “it was a fly. And I was catching crabs with Monty.”

“Yeah, you know that’s not true,” Nicolette called his bluff, a triumphant smirk in her voice, “Plus, I can see your face getting red from here.”

She was right. Gio could feel his face getting warm, too. That always happened when he lied or started to get nervous. Usually, he’d find the chance to hide the pinkness of his cheeks before it got too obvious — his most common solution was to run away — but with his sister sitting so firmly on his only hope for safe haven, he’d have to resign himself to embarrassment. “Fine,” he rolled his eyes, “That’s not true.”

Nicolette perked up. “Okay… then tell me what is!”

Gio crossed his arms. He loved his sister, but he wasn’t going to let her strongarm him into giving up all his secrets so easily this time. Maybe he didn’t want to tell her. “Well, y’know, maybe I don’t want to tell you,” he echoed his own thoughts, “Why do you always need to know everything?”

She thunked her head against the wall, “It can’t be that serious.”

He shrugged, doing his best to keep his cheeks from turning red. He was lying in every way — not only verbally, to his sister, but to himself. It was that serious. “I don’t know. Maybe it is.”

“Ugh! Gio!” she exclaimed, her voice still a whisper, “Just tell me!”

He wanted to tell her badly. Gio took a deep breath, and he held it for a moment, trying to keep himself from spilling the entire story of the stranger right then and there — but, as he opened his mouth to exhale, the dam broke. “It’s a… little man?!” Gio could have shouted with all the pent-up bewilderment of the nights before, if not for his parents’ room just a few doors down, “Like, really little. I saw them and they bit me and then I just couldn’t… stop thinking about it! I think they live under the boardwalk.”

The room was silent. Nicolette fixed him with an incredulous stare, her eyes tinged with a softness of worry after her brother’s seemingly nonsensical story. “A little man…?”

He was pathetic. His decision to not to tell his family had been compromised at the slightest bit of pressure from his sister. But, there was no going back now. “A little man.” He implored. 

“Okay…” she started slowly, then cocked her head, “You're sure you’re not sick?”

Gio wiped a hand down his face with a tired groan as his cheeks turned even redder for a different, embarrassed reason. “Whatever,” he mumbled, and strictly pointed at the door, “Get out so I can go to sleep. If you want to actually listen, find me in the morning.”

Nicolette rolled onto her feet, resigning to let whatever tall-tale Gio was telling settle for the night. “Fine, fine.” She shrugged and pulled the door open, stepping into the hallway — but not without turning in a sharp about-face to leave her brother with a final threat, “Expect to hear from me tomorrow.”

He closed the door behind her, an unamused expression atop his still-rosy cheeks. With the quiet click of the door handle closing, he flopped heavily onto his mattress. For a moment, he stared blankly at the ceiling, an image of the little man forming in his memory to play back the motions of the night. He wanted to laugh. Sharing a granola bar with a stranger past midnight is a novelty story to begin with, but for that stranger to be a fraction of Gio’s own height was taking the story to an even further, funnier degree. 

He could feel his smile crack. It was funny. Gio quietly laughed to himself as he changed into his pajamas and began his nightly routine — silently down the hall, so as to not alert his parents, or possibly his sister again, who uncharacteristically kept her door open a crack as if to listen for any suspicious, brotherly noises. He thought of the little man in their home, wherever that may be, following a routine just the same as Gio’s as they prepared for bed. He hoped they enjoyed the peanut. And he hoped the chunk of granola bar would hold them over for a while, since it looked like a Thanksgiving turkey in their arms. 

He kicked up his bedsheets and slid beneath them, finally placing his glasses on the bedside table for the night with an exhausted sigh. Tomorrow, he’d have to find time in the night when he could convince his family to give him some space as he sat on the deck.

That was, if the little stranger even came to visit.

[love-has-a-way-ofgrowingbackward]

look guys there's something weird as HELL going on with aziraphale. all three minisodes we saw gave us an insight on how his brain works and his beliefs and everything and how it leads to him making the choices he's made. right.

crowley said something weird has been going on before the attack and we know he has a sixth sense for these things but WHAT IS IT.

i think i REALLY REALLY THINK there's going to be flashbacks to season 2 scenes in s3 and we'll get context and ohhh moments. like.

1. at the mystic shop crowley puts his cap on a snake. maybe just a sneaky nod to how he was wearing a cap but maybe something more?

2. i think the way metatron says "how predictable" and when he says "are you going to take it" so deliberately. they're huge huge clues i think. i feel like the metabitch knows something i dont which pisses me off.

3. i dont understand why the job scene was shot a little different to other ones and also why crowley and aziraphale sounded so different from the scene chronologically before and after that we see in s1. except maybe the seaside bit the whole thing was. definitely odd. and its also mentioned again and again and again. biggest question i have and also one of the biggest foreshadowing in the show is the job quote from the matchbox. what is that WHY IS THAT.

will we realise parts of the job scene were fake or left out and see in s3 how the line was relevant.

4. WHAT does metatron want from aziraphale sooo badly that he went to the trouble of going through his entire earth file and carefully construct manipulation plans a through to z to convince aziraphale to come up.

unless he was unnerved that they together blocked gabriel from him and left him in the dark while actively trying not to do something powerful and he wants armageddon 2 so he can destroy earth because he's the bad guy. and he cant even feasibly start on that as long as aziraphale and crowley are together/friends/as long as, metaphorically, the bookshop is theirs.

(the bookshop wasn't 'theirs' by the time crowley left i think. they'd sort of mentally given up on that which is why at the end muriel could enter without permission i think. if the south downs thing ends up being canon then maybe the bookshop will be destroyed for real because otherwise at the end they would end up at the bookshop)

5. look one of the most terrible thing in the whole ep6 was aziraphale not paying any attention to crowley in the beginning of the confession. he's really really flustered and there's a heartwrenching theme of him staring out of the window. he's absolutely terrified of the metatron seeing them and half his mind is on him.

aaaaaghhhh losing my fucking mind. you could almost hear the quote about the straightforward love life when crowley looks at nina and maggie. that feels like a conclusion kind of? like a really happy ending just like beelzebub and gabriel had. they're both good and loved. which is why i dont feel like we'll be seeing them majorly again... maybe we will i hope we will but idk. there's.

season 2 was soft gentle romantic definitely but it was also a sherlock holmes level of mystery. except we're at the start of the story when holmes doesn't get all the facts to solve the mystery.

also random not plot related questions.

why does the sandwich woman blink so much in the seamstress scene and why does aziraphale blink so little during the last lift scene. these probably dont mean anything other than the womans mascara got in her eye or something

how does the bentley play classical music which doesnt change for aziraphale but doesn't do that for crowley? is it love i hope its love

why does aziraphale's face do something odd when he leaves crowley to talk to nina ep5? or am i reading too much into it? he was very forthcoming with the rest but with nina he was sort of quiet (?) and reserved and went away looking uncomfortable.

why did aziraphale want so badly to drive crowleys car? was it meaningful or connecting to him? i know a lot of people say the dont hesitate to ask me any questions about love scene was aziraphale giving crowley horny eyes but i thought he seemed itching and really eager to get the keys? why does he want them sooo desperately. i don't fully understand their relationship which makes me WANT TO. what happens to a person when they spend six thousand years with their only friend and companion being a hereditary enemy, watching every single thing they do?

also why was he willing to give away a book and bribe out a book for the meeting? seems overboard for someone who doesn't really seem to think about heaven checking on nina and maggie. i think tbh it had less to do with heaven's suspicions than aziraphale being the kind of person who would love an excuse to host a night of dancing and food and love (mood) and he even got to participate by dancing with the demon he loves instead of just watching! (though i suspect he really likes that as well). hmmmmmmmmmmmm.

guys the brain rot has set in someone tell me im not imagining things

[kujousaramybeloved]

rant about weekly bosses + resin

it’s so unbelievably hilarious to me that hyv is adding “big changes!” to the weekly boss system in 4.2 by……. letting players fight them without having unlocked them via story quest. (and by hilarious i mean nobody’s laughing)

don’t get me wrong, that’s great, and that probably should’ve been a feature already with how long the sumeru arc is, but like, if you’re wl 7 or 8 (aka ar 50+, which really only takes a few weeks of gameplay to reach) you can join just about anyone for co-op and fight the bosses that way (that’s how my friend who’s behind on the story was doing it while he caught up)

but like. no resin changes? whatsoever? bffr. i’d so much rather have it cost less resin but still have to do the story to unlock the boss for my own world.

if you’ve been playing since version 1 like me you probably remember how weekly bosses used to ALWAYS cost 60 resin, and then later they added the 3 times per week that they cost 30 instead. you know when they added that? no, not with inazuma, with AZHDAHA. back in version 1.5! he was the 4th weekly boss in the game, so this actually ended up lowering the weekly boss resin total from 3x60 (160) to 3x30 + 60 (150) total.

they realized 2 ½ whole years ago that having four (4) weekly bosses costing 60 resin each with the resin recharge rate/cap the way it was (and still is! it’s been capped at 160 since 1.1) was a lot, and so they adjusted it. which was great!

you know how many weekly bosses there are now?

*eight*. and it’ll be 9 after 4.2.

that’s 3x30 + 5x60, a total of 390 (soon to be 450) resin PER WEEK to claim rewards from all the weekly bosses. and yeah, i’ve fought the earlier weekly bosses hundreds of times, so technically i can skip those, but what about new players? they still need those weapon billets and talent materials and elemental gemstones for the characters they unlock for every weekly boss

like it just feels so silly to say “big changes!” to weekly bosses and have it be really such an insignificant change in comparison to changes that players actually want/need. with the amount of characters, artifact sets, weapons, weekly bosses, etc, etc, needed to be farmed, ESPECIALLY for newer players, i can’t really appreciate any changes to any game mechanics unless it’s resin related atp

and now i’m just gonna throw around some ideas:

3 -> 6 instances of rewards costing 30 resin per week (450 -> 360 total)

all weekly bosses costing 60 -> 40 resin to claim (also 450 -> 360 total)

resin cap 160 -> 200 at least (that would get you 5 condensed resin, but 240 seems more reasonable to me)

being able to auto a domain/boss fight after you’ve successfully beaten it on that difficulty 10 (or some other arbitrary number) times

artifact domains costing mora rather than resin to farm (since it’s completely random which of the 2 sets you get, what type of piece you get, what main stat you get for the timepiece/goblet/circlet, what substats you get, and what upgrades the substats get when you level them)

[fromthedeskofthecaptain]

Things I must know about by the end of series 5, otherwise I might just jolly well explode, Captain and Kitty edition.

1. How did the Captain die?

It better not be anything undignified, Willbond. Not when we’ve loved him for so long. If I don’t cry every time I think of it for the next six months I want my license fee back.

2. What did he do before the war?

His uniformed photo on Mike’s Ghost Board has been identified as pre-WW2 by someone here BUT Ben has suggested in an interview that his life was disrupted by serving, i.e, not a career soldier. I always imagined him as someone who needed the war, emotionally speaking, to give existential meaning to his life. All the more so because he was a reserved man who couldn’t have his own conjugal family. (I have read accounts of people who found their war service a boon to their mental health, friendship circle, social skills and even sexual liberation, quite apart from it being a just cause in itself.)

What exactly were they doing at Button House?

What was Cap in charge of? Weapons development? If so, why him? How did he end up doing that, of all the options for a Royal Artillery Captain?

3. How did Havers feel, dammit!

We MUST KNOW. (Unless it’s not what I want to hear, in which case *LALALA.. I AM THE VERY MODEL OF A MODERN MAJOR GENERAL🎶… can’t hear you Ben). It’s ridiculous how much I need to know whether Cap was the object of romantic love during his lifetime, even if he didn’t know it. If not, then the I demand the Idiots don’t let him move on at the end of the series (not saying The Phrase because I hate it). Let him stay at Button House so a future handsome dead person can sweep him off his feet.

Interestingly, I seem to think that ascending/ moving on means completely ceasing to exist, rather than going to Heaven, etc, otherwise I wouldn’t have that need. Bummer to be an atheist.

Kitty

4. Why did Kitty’s sister hate her so much? Is there a story about parentage and race?

(I suspect Lolly was just colour blind casting, but I have a mental backstory about her being adopted and her ethnicity being important.) What happened to her birth parents? Was she born in England or brought here? Could she have been the child of a member of the family and someone from a colonial country where he was stationed in the Navy or went as a diplomat or adventurer.) Was there a scandal, other than the mixed race situation? What separated her from her birth mother? Was it forced, or death, or her mother thinking she’d have a better life with her white relatives? Did her father want that? Is the man she calls her father in the flashback actually her father, or someone who adopted her?

5. Did her sister kill her? If so, how and was it deliberate or a cruel prank that wasn’t intended to go that far? (Locking her out and she got hypothermia? Playing hide and seek and shutting her in somewhere so she suffocated?) Was it to do with any of the conjecture above? What did Kitty understand about her difference? How curious was she? What was she told about it?

Also, I would like them to hug and talk openly about being like a father / daughter to each other.