#I'd fix it except I'd have to make an entire account for that and I don't feel like making one

[thebindingofdragonshy]

I went to look on the Bulbapedia list of pokemon categories to determine if mice even existed in pokemon (for RP purposes) and

EJHLDAKJHD??? WHO DID THIS??

[air--so--sweet]

TUA Season 4 Spoilers

So...they released deleted scenes for season 4.

Ah yes, let's delete the important character moment between Luther and Diego despite it bringing their series arc full circle, from rivals, to brothers, and acrually shows someone react to finding out how Brn died, who needs to see Klaus' relapse having actually motivation like being having to deal with actual ghosts (I'm guessing we would have seen said ghosts but as this is deleted the VFX weren't added, except for the one he walked through so we understood what was happening), and we drefinitrly don't need to see actual resolution to his story that aldo resolves his entire series arc. Nope they all should be removed. But repeated Baby Shark scenes and a overly long not at all funny, just incredibly gross scene of them all vomiting, no that can stay in.

It's not quite as egregious as the HIMYM deleted scene from the finale but it's close... Also, while I disagree with them removing the scene wgere Robin tells Ted she still has feeling for him, HIMYM had the excuse of having a network TV slot to fit into, TUA, is on streaming and, while we did get some of their longest episodes this season, they were no where near as long as the longest episodes of shows we've seen on streaming. And it's not like these scenes are incredibly long either.

And don't get me wrong, I don't think these scenes would have saved the show. The ghosts scene still feels too brief and he'd already fought with Allison and acted like relapse was a foregone conclusion, but it least acknowledged that dealing with ghosts was why he used drugs in the first place. And Klaus at AA definitely has more of comedic tone than I'd like, it falls into the same trap as a lot of this season of telling over showing, and I don't love Claire and Allison randomly walking in part way through for no reason. However, it has Klaus taking accountability, admitting he's an addict, that fear has stopped him living, and has him realising he can still be those things, he can be an imperfect, fallable, messy human, and be worthy and deserving of love and he doesn't have to do everything alone (which also links back to what he said at the start of the season about Claire liking the version if him who's sober and scared). Literally wrote a fix it scene last night thst deals with these very themes, because we don't see them in the show, so it's even more infuriating to know they were dealt with and left out. And yes Klaus erasing himself a few hours later does render his growth pointless but I'd still rather see the growth rather than not have it at all.

The Ben scene isn't needed (and is very funny to watch without VFX so when he sees his reflection it's just two stand ins in mocap suits 😂) but it could have been a cool scene. The scene of Klaus and Lila's relatives is fun but a bit on the nose I think. Also, finding out Klaus is almost 3 years sober, not actually 3 years sober- makes his lines about being sober for the first time in his life even more frustrating because, I was letting it slide they were ignoring Dallas since he was at least sober for the same amount of time as he was in the '60s, but turns out he's not, he's been sober for less time. Great...

[shai-manahan]

Hollowed Minds Progress Update 1/21/2024

Hi! It's probably odd to start this with a question, but how do you all feel about the way content/trigger warnings are implemented in IFs? I'm asking this because I'm doing bits of additional coding for accessibility. In the next update, for example, you'll get to choose if you want lore-related text to be displayed on the stats page or for it to simply display stat changes + relationship trackers.

Would you want the content warnings to have the same treatment (i.e. having the choice to have it displayed before every chapter)? Or is there something else you prefer? And do you find it better if warnings for the unreleased content are also displayed? I didn't make a poll because I'd like to get actual responses for this that's more than just numbers.

While I won't be writing anything that's too explicitly violent, HM can still get very heavy and I wish to take into account the thoughts of everyone who would read the entire thing. So do feel free to send an ask :)

Anyway, fixing game-breaking bugs was mostly what I did the last few weeks lmfao. I did write a few thousand words but nothing I can share yet, except maybe for a fact that MC's personality traits (depending on your config -- though the current setup isn't applied in the current demo yet) have a lot more flavor texts involved, and characters will be showing more reactions related to them. And I don't know if I've already mentioned this yet, but I made it so you could refer to Wesley using their surname 👀 (I probably mentioned that already but eh.)

Meanwhile on Ch 2's Part 2: Alonzo's driving skills vs MC's level of patience :'))))

See you next weekend!

[lonelyroommp3]

honestly could you just straight up review every song on brat

deal

360 - functions perfectly as an album opener (and i appreciate the work it puts in to set up the far superior 365 at the end) but doesn't do much for me as a standalone song. i'm not sure if this is actually a problem with the song itself or if i just dislike the post-ironic nyc it girl culture featured in the music video so much that i now have beef with the song as a consequence

club classics - i have not heard this song while off my face in a grotty warehouse club in an east london industrial estate and as a result i don't feel i can truly give it the impartial ranking it deserves just yet. this is not a song that reaches its full potential in any other setting

sympathy is a knife - i don't find myself returning to this song often but i do objectively think it bangs hugely. i just have surprisingly little to say about it honestly

i might say something stupid - huge song, and yet so small at the same time. it is very rare that i call a sub-2 minute song perfect because i'm 5minutesongfucker420 but it comes in, says what it needs to, and rips your heart out in the process. i go back and forth comparing brat and melodrama quite often (SORRY CHARLI, I KNOW YOU HAVE A SONG ABOUT THIS COMING UP) because they're both Party Girl Concept Albums and to me this is brat's "liability" in terms of early album moment of complete braking-hard-and-hitting-the-wall vulnerability.

talk talk - SOOOO fun. absolutely love the production on this one, right up my alley, i am also a huge sucker for a big fun song about having a crush. i would also like to shout out this song for ruining any international sporting event where france and spain face off because all i can ever think is TALK TO ME IN FRENCH TALK TO ME IN SPANISH TALK TO ME IN YOUR OWN MADE UP LANGUAGE

von dutch - absolutely gigantic and a perfect opening single to set the tone of the era. those massive revving synths encapsulate the sound of what i thought clubbing would be like when i was about 13 years old. also a perfect confidence boost song - i have strutted at olympic racewalker speed down the street with this blasting in my airpods more times than i would care to admit

BONUS: the various von dutch remixes - i don't always subscribe to the "if it ain't broke don't fix it" rule of remixes (for example, to go on a complete tangent, i adore both deadmau5's original raise your weapon and the madeon extended remix because they do entirely different things equally well) but nothing in the von dutch remixes make me think yeah, this is worthy of existing alongside the original and adds something cool and interesting and different to the track that i wasn't already getting from the og. the one exception i'd make is, of course, addison rae's extremely cunty scream in the a.g. cook remix but i'm not going to keep returning to an entire remix for just one fun moment that's already been oversaturated on tiktok

everything is romantic - i will confess, for all i claim to be an open minded enjoyer of music and a fan of Insane Tracks For The Club, initially the jagged production was a bit jarring to me and i thought yeah, i probably won't be coming back to this song. and now i'm obsessed with it. however it does make the children (me) yearn for the mediterranean and as a result i will be invoicing charli for the damage to my bank account when the day inevitably comes that i listen to this song too many times after half a bottle of wine and immediately book myself an italian weekend getaway

rewind - first time i heard this i was like oh okay we're getting into the slightly more fillery second third of the album, it's a fine song but not quite on the level of all that has come before it. and now it is one of my absolute favourites. i also LOVE how direct and specific the lyrics are on this track, which is something i normally beef with when it comes to a lot of contemporary pop music but the difference is 1) charli is good at it 2) her delivery is so direct that it sort of dares you to sit still and listen without criticising it. incredibly strong song

so i - a genuinely beautiful song that i rarely listen to because it makes me feel like i am intruding on something. i think the fact that it exists out in the world on this album is a wonderful thing and the most perfect tribute to sophie & full circle moment when it comes to charli's insecurities around working with her - "when i make songs i remember things you'd suggest... would you like this one? maybe just a little bit?" - but at the same time i'm always like. i kind of feel like i shouldn't be listening to this

girl, so confusing - the original is a lovely little paradox. i enjoyed it enough on my first listen and the lorde version quite simply would not exist, let alone be as impactful as it is, without it, but now that the lorde version exists i don't want to listen to any other version. the remix is almost certainly going to be my top brat track of the year

apple - initially a skip, then i had a moment of realisation that it is in fact the best marina and the diamonds song written in years (that froot looks familiar, i suppose), and then it rapidly became overplayed as the result of, to be fair, the very good and fun tiktok dance that i still do on instinct every time i hear the song. i think instead of riding the wave of its virality by releasing it to radio as a single etc charli should lock this one in a vault for about three months so nobody can listen to it and then when it comes back we'll all be like oh yeah wait this is a really good little song

b2b - love it, was my immediate fave out of the club classics/b2b double single release, but once again i feel like i've not yet heard it at its full potential (inside a cramped and small and extremely sweaty basement club when i'm 8 shots deep planning a terribly ill advised pulling mission)

mean girls - the thing is i think it's a fun enough song as a storytelling concept if you view it as Just A Little Fun Song, also i love the production, a little bit of house-y piano is always going to hit for me. the issue is i've already told you what i think about the post-ironic it girl subculture this song is about and i think if you actively listen to this song and go wowwwww she gets me then you need to have your internet access forcibly removed for at least six months until you calm down and develop a personality outside of the red scare podcast and pretentious "overrated vs underrated" columns hosted by wannabe substack celebrities. also the thing is this song is going to be dated within the year, which is a shame bc it does, musically, go

i think about it all the time - this song should NOT hit as hard as it does considering i staunchly plan on never having children. i cannot relate to the sentiment behind it at all but charli paints such a beautiful and vivid picture with her lyrics (all perfectly intertwined with that understated, quietly pulsating production) that you can't help but have an emotional connection to it. beautiful and vulnerable and a really perfect moment of quiet towards the end of the album

365 - first of all, a perfectly placed song when it comes to encapsulating those dizzy night out mood swings of "wait. should i settle down and have children.... nvm let's go back inside and do coke". second of all, as a musical theatre girlie to my core i love ANY song that reprises an earlier theme and this not only repurposes the 360 stems excellently but actively improves on the earlier track. thirdly, i think charli's "okay, OKAYYYY" at the beginning of the song is a flawless and fun way of rounding out the album - it really feels like she's bringing you back into it, going OKAY let's do this one last time, are you FUCKING READY, etc. fourthly, it's just FUN. definitely a standout track to me

hello goodbye - LOVEEEE, i do greatly enjoy and appreciate charli's more experimental music but i can't lie. sometimes she releases a fairly straightforward poppy banger and it just hits the spot. like this

guess - YOU WANNA GUESS THE COLOUR OF MY UNDERWEAR YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT I'VE GOT GOING ON DOWN THERE IS IT PRETTY IN PINK OR ALL SEE THROUGH IS IT SHOWING OFF MY BRAND NEW LOWER BACK TATTOO. btw the billie eilish verse on the remix slays, i know this is a charli review but i love that billie has devoted her first two explicitly gay singles to being just outrageously horny with it, you go girl, i think the discourse around the song is so unbelievably daft and we need to settle down and have fun

spring breakers - i know this is a fan fave that people were begging to put on the album but i just simply do not care about it. sorry

[little-pup-pip]

Hey! I just wanted to let you know, while I think the moodboards you make are super cute and I do love them a lot, they're super disheartening to see.

All of them, are pretty much just stolen content? You don't bother crediting or sourcing anything on them, so they're basically all just photos/art that doesn't belong to you :(

The small artists who create the deco pacis, the plushies, the photography, deserve to be credited and not have their stuff stolen. Especially when they are products the artist is selling (deco pacis, crochet, handmade collars, etc.) they deserve that attention and credit.

/nm but I've just seen SO many people not caring to source their posts. I really encourage you to credit the posts you create.

Hello hello!! First off, I want to tell you that, for the most part, you're right! This is actually something I think about a lot, and I get where you're coming from. Most of the things I post are uncredited pictures, and I'm going to explain why in the best way I can. But ultimately, it's up to you whether this explanation satisfies you or not (if you have suggestions on how to fix it after reading this whole thing, let me know)!

For context, most of the stuff I post are pictures directly from Pinterest, a site that is notorious for being awful at crediting creators and making it difficult to find the original creators of things. I wish Pinterest was better at allowing people to trace the origins of images, and I would love it if I could find the original creators of every picture I use. Unfortunately, it is genuinely impossible to find the people who take most of the pictures on Pinterest a lot of the time (because Pinterest will show you the most recent saver of a picture rather than the poster, and if you do manage to find the poster, you never know if someone reposted a picture, so the person who you think is the creator actually is not). It's really not a matter of "I don't bother to"; it's that often I can't (this is why I try to avoid using art not made by companies because I'd drive myself crazy trying to find the artist)!

I also want to point out that none of the stuff I use is "stolen"! If you look at Pinterest's terms of service, every picture posted there is entirely free to use, sort of like a stock image, and I have to assume that the posters know that. (Legal talk and a simpler version pictured below)

Additionally, I do show products, but often not by small stores or creators. Most of them are literally product advertisements from large companies that will not take any financial hit from this at all. If you go onto Pinterest and look up something like "blanket," you'll find that it's almost completely large corporations! And that is almost entirely the selection of product pictures I use, especially for my petre boards, as I don't think I have any handmade collars in any of my boards, just commercially made ones!

The pictures that are from smaller creators, such as products, as you stated, can easily be traced back to the creators by downloading the picture and using the Pinterest or even google image search; sometimes, there's even a watermark to make things easier. And, if you ask me, I'll find the creator for you if it's possible!

As a small side note, I never take credit for pictures that aren't my own, and I don't make any money from this. I'm not receiving anything that the creators aren't, except maybe views. And, if people asked me to remove pictures they didn't want on other people's accounts shown on one of my moodboards, I would. I have never had that happen, however, and when people do recognize pictures that they made in one of my moodboards, they have only ever been happy to see them. Here are two examples (check the reblogs)!! Example 1 Example 2

Ultimately, this is a grey area for content, and Pinterest has no better alternative. This debate is also nothing new! People have been making moodboards long before my time and will continue to do so after I stop. And I'm not saying I'm perfect or that other moodboard creators take the same precautions as me, but I am doing my best to make moodboards in a conscionable manner! If you can't get behind it, that's okay!! I would also be happy to discuss this more with you if you want!

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

I don't agree with everything this poster says, but I have to agree that whoever writes next for Wanda would have an easier time redeeming her if some of her villainous acts in DSMOM were toned down.

(Obviously, I wouldn't tone down the Illuminati attack. In fact, I'd just have 616 Wanda be there in person rather than be dreamwalking in her 838 counterpart's body. But Wanda mass knocking out the sorcerers at Kamar-Taj instead of killing them is something that'd be a lot easier for Wanda to come back from.)

Okay, first things first, the OP says Stephen was too quick to label her a villain? Ha! No, he wasn't. It's like some people watch the movie they want to see, not what's right there in front of them in the screen.

I do like the idea of knocking them out too but here's the thing: do we want the story to be about the Darkhold messing with Wanda's mind or not? Because I don't think we can have it both ways. You can fix this by showing her actively fighting against its power so that the book wants her to kill them but she doesn't... and for added angst let's have her lose control and murder them as she stands horrified at her own power.

That of course requires a redemption of sorts towards the end where it is made clear she found herself unable to fight the power of the Darkhold but she still chooses to hold herself accountable, or at the very least she apologizes for the pain and tries to help the sorcerers rebuild Kamar-Taj to atone for her crimes. Also another thing this solves is that Wanda doesn't need to die, she makes it out alive (I'm really not a fan of villains finding redemption through death, screw that).

What's for sure is that we can't have a story where the villain is corrupted off-screen, spends the entire movie (supposedly) acting out of her free will only to reach the end of the film and be told that no, it's the book that corrupted her - except the only thing that made her stop was seeing her kids terrified of her, we never see her break free of the Darkhold at any point, not even in the 3rd act. I swear this movie is so bad at times.... ugh.

[falinscloaca]

sees my alternate account for a certain webcomic that i’m hypercritical of but still simultaneously a “fan” of (in the loose, “this author is dogshit and the comic itself is 80% personally injurious why are all of my creatorly passions fixated on this fucking comic” way/in the the-years-i-spent-trying-to-ONLY-hate-it-made-me-fucking-miserable-because-my-fixation-ass-brain-refuses-to-move-on-from-it-(ALSO-IT-ATE-A-SOLID-DECADE-OF-MY-LIFE-AND-*ALL*-OF-MY-CREATIVE-PASSION-FOR-NOTHING-OTHERWISE) way) appear in my “people to follow” sidebar oh jesus christ the feds are onto me. 

homestuck (for filtering purposes i’m just writing that here. it feels like i’ve just rended my clothes asunder as an act of contrition.) (i infodumped how bad the comic is in the tags bc criticizing it is about as big a fixation for me as the actual failed potential of its worldbuilding itself. its chill. i’m a big cool and i feel a good. yes i’m writing this post-the-wrest-of-the-tags and thus am settling out of an adrenaline rush. i stg if tumblr eats tags if you leave too many i’ll combust)

[borntolurk]

OK so mostly I use this account to lurk but I do just want to say one thing now that I keep seeing stuff about Good Omens being compared to Our Flag Means Death, often to Good Omens's detriment. Often the argument is that OFMD is so much more open in its queer love story, which is a valid thing to prefer in isolation, don't get me wrong. Now I'm going to say I'm biased, I've loved GO (the book) since high school and I watched OFMD three weeks ago for the first time, but... they're two very different shows telling very different stories, even if they star very similar lead characters.

I saw someone on Reddit say that OFMD is a Good Omens Pirate AU, which is actually a really uncannily good call, but I'd go farther- OFMD is Good Omens Pirate AU fix it fic.

What do I mean by this? Let's just put it out there- Stede is Aziraphale, Ed is Crowley. Do they live in totally different worlds? Yes. Are the sets of auxiliary characters entirely distinct from each other? Of course, though I could see a great argument for the Badminton twins as a Gabriel analogue. Are the characters not totally identical? Obviously. But the archetypes are extremely similar, the character dynamics are as well, and it's gotten to the point where I've been perusing fic in both fandoms and the similarities in dialogue between Stede/Az and Ed/Crowley have been uncanny. They just are characterized similarly, is the bottom line.

Okay, what does this have to do with it being a fix it fic? Because let's say we go with Stede-as-Aziraphale for the obvious reason that they are both blond, fussy, intellectual and enthusiastic-in-a-deeply-uncool-way people. Of course, another similarity is that they both are made deeply miserable by their families/expectations- but that just highlights one important difference. Aziraphale throughout Good Omens is more comparable to Stede in his marriage to Mary than to Stede on the Revenge. Why? Because at the start of OFMD Stede has already left.

That's huge. Taking that step to leave and separate yourself from the bad situation is a significant mindset change in and of itself, and meeting your love interest after you've already undergone this seismic shift makes you open to additional new shifts in your thinking, like falling in love with Ed (even if you don't 100% realize that that's what's happening). Stede's whole attitude over the course of S1 is "fuck it, I've already done the craziest thing there is, let's keep going crazy." Of course he'll be receptive enough to Blackbeard for all that to happen! Obviously he still has to get over his past with Mary and the kids, and his own internal mixed up stuff, but he's already started with that in basically the most dramatic way possible.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, is still completely enmeshed in a dysfunctional family right up til the end of S1. Sure, he's had his own ways of rebelling quietly, and he partners with Crowley, who incidentally has been part of his very twisted life the whole time and so they're stuck in a pattern with nothing to jolt them out of it til later. But his rebellion is quiet and in many ways half-hearted because he still does buy into the idea of heaven, he still considers himself an angel who is fighting for right and good, and he feels like Crowley has been an everpresent temptation, something to be fought against, someone who is wrong. He's never really tried to break away except in the most passive ways, and even those ways are justified to himself.

And bear in mind, Aziraphale realizes over time that to leave would be VERY dangerous. At first he thinks the danger is that he'll become a demon like Crowley, that he'll "fall"- and then once he realizes that that's far from the worst fate he could suffer, he realizes that he's in mortal (okay, maybe not the best word when talking about an angel) peril. These are people who will KILL HIM for stepping out of line, and these are people who have been shaping his opinion on right and wrong since literally the beginning of time. Not shocking that he'll be reluctant to see things differently... and yet he still DOES break away! It's an incredibly brave thing to do, especially since he and the demon he loves would have been literally killed as a result if they hadn't done some very quick thinking! He realizes that Crowley has been right all along and he leaves. And now, essentially, he's at the point where Stede starts in OFMD.

Stede, in contrast, is on the most queer-friendly (and, under his influence, basically everything-friendly) ship on the high seas, and he might not be in a world without homophobia, but Calico Jack makes clear that he's in a milieu where men having sex with men is completely normal. He has time and space to figure things out and when he does go back to Mary and the kids at the end of S1, he has to deal with the ramifications of his actions (justifiably) but those do NOT include homophobia. Instead he receives complete support on that front, even if he also gets deserved anger from Mary about him ditching them and then showing up again like nothing had happened.

That's what I mean by "fix it fic." The stories each show is telling are so different, despite starting with a similar character in a similar bind- Good Omens is the story of a man angel who is stuck in a toxic situation and needs support and a kick in the ass to make him leave it (and see the person he loves in a different light), and OFMD is the story of a man who has decided to leave a toxic situation and what happens once he does, and the mere fact that he has already made that decision to change his life leaves him open to new people to enter his heart, and for him to express that. Aziraphale is not someone remotely in a state to express himself emotionally/romantically to Crowley, and he says that himself- and it's due to the specific story in which he is situated. Stede on the other hand is placed in exactly the right position to open his heart to new things, including to love. He is what we hope Aziraphale will be able to come as he heals.

Now, you might say, who cares? This is just on a story level; on a meta level, each of these stories have writers and the writers choose exactly what happens and so it's all kind of meaningless to discuss and compare without taking into account authorial intent. And... sure, I get that. But I do think that there's value in both stories. Each story is a very different kind of love story, based on the different kinds of circumstances that the main characters find themselves in, and "how can we get this character out of his toxic situation and mindset" and "how can we allow this character to spread his wings with relative freedom" are BOTH great stories! As someone who first approached (and loved) Good Omens from the point of view of growing up in fundamentalist religion, that approach struck me from the outset as being so well done in both the book and the show; OFMD, though, showed what you can do when you've finally taken that leap, how much it can free you.

In short, they're both great, but hopefully you already knew that.

[candied-cae]

Fuck you and your shitty misogynist AND racist Yen headcanons. The actress isn't white, asshole.

Firstly, I'd like to say I love how Anya has played Yen. I haven't gone over it on this account yet, but you will never see me complain about more diversity in media. Anya loves Yennefer and performs her beautifully with such a heartfelt attachment to the character, and I love everything about the performance itself. I don't care that Anya is an Indian actress and Yennefer in other mediums is white, I haven't read the books nor played the games, so they mean very little to me. And it's really good that we get to have an Indian woman playing an undeniably beautiful and powerful character.

I've never criticized Anya's portrayal, only the writing of the show's dialogue and story line. I don't really ever complain about actors, only directors because at the end of the day they decide what goes on the screen and how the actors do their jobs.

Secondly, I'm not entirely sure which take of mine you're referring to Anon, so let's review all of my discussion posts about Yennefer, shall we?

There's this one - where I critically examined Yennefer's character, and how I really want to love her but the writing is making me dislike her. In which I acknowledge several parts of her that I do like, but how overall it's rubbing me the wrong way morally.

There's this one - where I criticize how the writers have set up Geralt and Yennefer's relationship, in which I blame both of them for not having a healthy relationship and now the story is going to have to push the "a child will fix us" narrative which personally irks me as a child who grew up seeing my mom with bad boyfriends.

But I'm assuming most likely it's this post and this one since you bring up racism. Which, I will be the first to admit that no matter how much self education and accountability I do, it's a life long commitment to unlearn the systems of oppression that are taught to us. BUT- to the best of my knowledge- me loving Francesca's line doesn't come from Sexist or Racist unconscious biases.

I feel I explained it rather lengthily, especially in the second post, but my feelings about Yen are about Yen, not Anya. The Continent has shown us no racism nor colorism, except for in the bounds of humans vs. elves and dwarves. In this case, Anya being Indian is not a struggle Yennefer faces, but Yennefer aligns herself as a human, someone at the top of the system of oppression. All of which is canon material I pulled directly from the show, not headcanons. And then tries to manipulate elves into freeing her of consequence in the same way that white people use DNA tests to absolve themselves of racist criticism. Again, I explain this point repeatedly in the posts.

So I do apologize if my message was unclear, but my criticisms of Yennefer's character have everything to do with the show's writing, and nothing to do with Anya's race.

But if there are further complaints about my analysis of The Witcher, feel free to leave me with better hints as to what you disagree with, and I'd be happy to have a conversation or write more detailed explanation about why I think what I think. Personal aggression just distracts from the conversation.

More Witcher

[thevindicativevordan]

On Maxima

Every time DC wants to put Supes in a relationship with someone other than Lois, I always wonder why they don't just go with Maxima.

Especially since she's basically what they turn Diana into every time they try to hook the two of them up. Why not just go with the actual Superman Rogue/supporting character who is also a warrior-queen? Who is already almost as violent as she is horny, forcing Clark to try to get her to chill out, even as he's tempted to join her? If it isn't already clear, I like Maxima. Her character archetype, the supervillainess who tempts the hero with sex appeal, is one that's pretty damn popular for obvious reasons. Also for obvious reasons, this kind of character can provoke a backlash nowadays.

Personally I think she can still work just fine, she just needs some revamp. The basics of her character and backstory are still solid and offer storytelling potential. She's the Queen of the alien Empire of Almerac. Maxima is drawn to Superman because of his power. The real big fix is changing why she's attracted to his power, and why she came to Earth in the first place, shifting it away from eugenics to something else.

What I'd Do With Maxima

So I'm going to take some cues from the DCAU incarnation of Maxima in that the reason she seeks Superman out is because she's been deposed.

DCAU Maxima got deposed after she met Superman, but she lost her throne because her people judged her too self-absorbed and immature to lead them. Which she totally was, and changing that formed the crux of her character development over the course of the episode. I'd take a similar route with reworking comics Maxima's backstory.

Maxima has just taken the throne when the Interstellar Empire of Almerac comes under the assault of Mongul of Warworld. Crushing Almerac's defenses, Mongul gives the world an ultimatum: Turn over a selection of their greatest fighters to fight for Almerac's continued right to exist in Mongul's gladiator arenas or he'll reduce the entire planet to ashes. He also demands a sizeable portion of the population be turned over as slaves tasked with keeping Warworld running, and he wants Maxima to be among those slaves as a symbol of Mongul's authority over Almerac. Maxima angrily refuses, but her people don't trust in her leadership on account of her youth and immaturity, and Maxima is overthrown. She's handed over for transport to Warworld, but while en route she breaks free and seizes control of the transport. Alone and without allies, Maxima sets a course for Earth to seek out the one person she's heard is a match for the Lord of Warworld: Superman.

Only interested at first in his power, and planning to use and dispose of him afterwards, Maxima at first presents herself to Clark as a potential mate. Her hope is that will entice him to support her on what could be a suicide mission, and that offering power and wealth via marriage will cement his loyalty. Being betrayed by her subjects still stings her though she takes great pains to pretend otherwise. Superman turns down the marriage offer, but agrees to follow her to take down Mongul and free Almerac. The two travel back to Almerac which is in the midst of choosing who will fight on Warworld. Clark pretends to be a native of Almerac and is chosen as one of the champions. Initially planning to stay on Almerac and purge those who betrayed her while Clark fights on Warworld, Maxima chooses to give herself up to Mongul, after he announces that he will be vaporizing an entire continent as punishment for the Almeracans failure to turn her over to him. Amused at her compassion for those who betrayed her, Mongul adds Maxima to the roster of gladiators, and she departs with Clark to the arenas.

Over the course of a series of battles, Maxima and Clark butt heads, watch each other's backs, and gradually fall in love with each other. Maxima admires Clark's resolve, restraint, and maturity, traits she's forced to admit she lacked. She's skeptical of his idealism however, seeing it as a flaw that undermines his effectiveness, particularly when it comes to killing. Clark admires Maxima's passion, bravery, and refusal to settle for anything less than the best in anyone including herself. All traits that make him ponder if perhaps she does have it in her to be a good leader. He dislikes her arrogance and entitlement however, particularly when it comes to her royal right to rule. A frequent source of fights between the two is whether the common person should have any voice in government with Maxima scoffing at that and point at how the mob gave in to Mongul, with Clark countering that Almeracans had long felt unheard and cut off from their rulers. Obviously that they're both super hot doesn't hurt as part of why they end up sleeping together.

Ultimately through a series of events Superman and Maxima succeed in freeing Almerac and driving Mongul away. Then everything promptly goes to hell. Having fallen for Clark for real over the course of their adventure, Maxima repeats her offer to him of marriage, except genuinely this time.

The two have had sex a couple times already, and Clark is genuinely tempted at the prospect of sticking with Maxima. He's grown to enjoy her company (having sex tends to do that), he enjoys the freedom to be himself without having to hide his powers, the Almeracans embrace him as their champion, and as Maxima's consort he could take an active hand in shaping society. At the point in Clark's career where I'd want to do this story, he's growing out of his youthful rage, but he's still not at peace with his lot in life. Earth's inability to meaningfully change at the pace he wants frustrates him, and leaving behind the restrictions of life there does entice him. My point is that I think the appeal of Maxima to Superman should and can be more than just breeding little Clarks as has been the case in the past.

However Clark ultimately rejects the offer. He can't bring himself to cut ties with Earth, Maxima's unwillingness to cede some of her power to her people isn't something Clark can accept, and Clark is also concerned that taking up her offer would compromise his ability to be a hero. As you would expect, Maxima is pissed at his refusal, treating it as another stab in the back. Due to his help in freeing her people and reclaiming her throne, she spares his life but exiles him from Almerac, declaring him persona non grata throughout the Empire.

Unbeknownst to Clark, who leaves after it's made clear the Almeracans don't want a civil war, Maxima is pregnant with his child. The child allows her to avoid entering into a political marriage, maintaining her independence since she now has a heir. This daughter will be groomed in hidden to take over the Empire, which Maxima now has plans to expand. The humiliation Mongul visited upon Almerac has had a big impact on her mindset. Now she's focused on eliminating any potential threats to her people, and she wants to transform Almerac into the greatest Interstellar Empire in the Milky Way. Then it will never be at the mercy of a foreign power ever again.

For stories, Superman and Maxima are clearly going to clash given she's become an imperialist herself, no better than Mongul. You can tell stories about Clark foiling Maxima's attempts to conquer other worlds, or Earth itself. Maxima would occasionally dispatch assassins or go personally to attack Clark, for the purpose of preventing him from getting "soft". The public reason for this is that he's become a roadblock to her aims, and needs to be eliminated. Secretly, her goal is to constantly push him to be stronger because she wants him to meet his daughter one day. Not for any sentimental reasons mind you, Maxima wants Superman to teach their daughter to be his equal in ability and resourcefulness. After learning everything she can from Clark, said daughter will be charged with leading the invasion of Earth. Conquering Earth, and defeating Superman, will be the girl's rite of passage into cementing herself as Maxima's heir. The world of her father, Superman, is destined to be her own Throneworld as Almerac's is Maxima's.

Think you could have a lot of fun in giving Clark a "Damian" of his own to deal with. Personally I'd have it so that the "daughter" would be akin to the New 52 Maxima who I thought had some potential. You could have Maxima and Maxima Jr. argue about the morality of Almerac's expansion, with MJ ultimately taking her father's side which causes enormous problems for her mother since she can't disown her daughter without a replacement heir. I think that could be a fun family dynamic to explore.

Wondering where Maxima will show up next. Part of me was hoping Almerac was that part of underdeveloped Superman lore PKJ talked about fleshing out, but that seems to be either Warworld or the Phantom Zone. I still think Maxima and Almerac have a lot of potential to be major players in Superman's world, but it's going to take someone being interested in fleshing them out. Maybe the upcoming Superman cartoon will accomplish that? If not I'll just have to hope someone will down the line.

[myhockeyworld87]

Ruined - Jamie Benn - Part 4

Word Count: 8,133

POV: Jamie and then switches to reader

Warnings: Language, small amount of smut so we will say NSFW

Notes: This is hell long, I’m sorry. I don’t normally write chapter/parts this long, so don’t get used to it, because I’m sure it won’t last...haha! At any rate here we go with Part 4. As always I love your feedback, both good and bad, so hit me with it. Happy Reading! Also (Y/NN) = Your Nickname (Y/LN) = Your Last Name

Ruined Masterlist

 JAMIE POV

 Five days, that's how long it was until you saw (Y/N) again. Well, it was four days, sixteen hours, twenty-two minutes, and forty-two seconds, give or take a second or two. And why did you know the exact time, only because you'd been counting the hours since she left Jordie and Jessi's house. The dinner party had gone great, at least you thought it had, but then you hadn't seen her since then; not even a glimpse of her outside in the backyard or pulling into the driveway. It was maddening or maybe it was just you slowly going insane as every little noise outside had you wandering over to the window to check and see if it was her. It hadn't taken much to convince your brother to throw a dinner party on short notice, in an excuse so you could see (Y/N), but now that you had, there was just this overwhelming need to see more and more of her.

 Now, here you were, just four days, sixteen hours, twenty-four minutes, and sixteen seconds from seeing her again. She was to be at the practice center at four-thirty today, so that someone, that someone being you, of course, could show her around the facility. You stood back a bit, staring at the entrance doors just waiting for her to walk in. And then she did. She looked radiant. Dressed in a simple navy pantsuit with a pair of high heels that clicked across the floor, she made her way to the front desk. Instead of rushing out to greet her, you headed back to the locker room, where you knew the receptionist would usher her back to you.

 Your palms were sweating and suddenly you felt unsure of yourself. What if she was only playing nice at Jordie's and really didn't want to be around you? But that didn't explain how she'd laughed and reminisced with you about different things. That laugh, you knew it was a genuine one, for you heard it so many times in your dreams you had it memorized. God, you hoped you could make her laugh like that again today.

 You could hear her heels on the floor, so you busied yourself with one of your sticks retaping the blade, even though it didn't need it. "The team captain is in there, Miss. If you need anything just let me know." You heard the door open and then turned around.

 "Jamie?"

 "Oh hey (Y/NN)," you tried to sound casual as if her simply being in the same room as you didn't send your heart beating into overdrive.

 "I guess I didn't realize you were the team's captain."

 "Yeah, have been for a few years now." Your heart sank a bit in the knowledge that she hadn't really followed your career except to know where you were, so she could avoid you.

 "Well that's…," she stumbled on her words which was unusual for her and you wondered if she was as affected by you as you were by her, or if it was just her disdain for you, and that she hated to give you any amount of praise. "That's really amazing. Your coaches and team must really hold you in high regard."

 "I'd like to think so." You finally abandoned the stick that didn't need taping, leaning it against the wall before turning your attention back to (Y/N). "Anyhow, I guess I'm your tour guide today." She gave a weak smile and a simple head nod, which was not encouraging to say the least. "So, how about we get started? If you want you can leave your stuff in here, no one will bother it." She'd been carrying her medical bag and a few other things, but she handed them over to you and you set them in your stall. "Well, as you can see this is our practice locker room, pretty basic. I thought we'd start with a tour of the entire place before I show you the training room."

 The two of you headed down the hallway and back out to the lobby. "Obviously, you came in this way, but I'll show you the entrance you can use in the future. We're pretty much contained to this side of the building as you can see, but when practices are open, people can come and watch." You showed her the rink, from seat level, then headed back out. "This is the club lounge, if there's ever an event here where we aren't skating we use one of the boxes up there. You're more than welcome to as well."

 "I have to say this is kind of elaborate for a practice rink."

 "A bit."

 "I was expecting metal bleachers and…well, I don't know. I feel like this is more like the arena and then a practice rink."

 You chuckled, for you kind of thought the same thing, the first time you came here. Now you barely even noticed it. "Well, the boards are the same as the AAC, but other than that it's very different."

 "AAC?"

 "American Airlines Center," you hadn't realized you shortened the name. "Sorry about that. I think we're scheduled to tour that on Wednesday." It gave you another opportunity to be with her.

 "Yes, I have that on my calendar, but was going to see if we could change that." You supposed there was your answer about her wanting to be in the same room as you. "Dr. Ellis has a patient that needs a knee arthroplasty and he asked if I'd show him the technique I've been using. Less evasive and I'm having great success with cutting the healing time by half." Oh, so it was a medical thing, whatever an arthroplasty was. "If we could push it back a bit that would be great, if not maybe we could look at another time."

 "I'll work around your schedule, it's not a problem." If it meant spending more time with her you'd go to any lengths that you had to.

 "Thanks, if we could maybe make for like three in the afternoon instead of noon that will give me plenty of time because I have a feeling, he'll want me to sit in on his other two surgeries he has scheduled that day."

 "Not a problem." You took out your phone and made the change in your calendar. Thankfully, you didn't really have anything after practice that day but giving her the tour. "Shall we continue then?" She smiled, and it made your heart feel light. You took her to the offices next. "Down this hallway is pretty much everyone that works for the Stars; PR, accounting, our GM, our owner. You'll pretty much find them here." You stopped in front of a door and then opened it up. "This office is for you." It had a great view, well as much of a view as any of them had, but it really was a nice place for her to work.

 "Umm…this won't do."

 You blinked at her a couple times, there was really nothing wrong with the room. Everything in there was modern with state-of-the-art equipment. "What's wrong with it?" The words came out a little harsher than you intended but you really couldn't see her problem.

 "Well for starters, we're on the what, the third floor? And I believe the locker room and training room are on the first." You gave a confused look as this was Dr. Lundin's old office and he never been concerned about it being where it was. "It's just if I'm going to be working on you…well not you, but any of you. I need to be near you. I can be at ice level during practices, but if I'm treating you, my office should be closer to the ice." Well, you couldn't really argue with that. "Also, there's no exam table in here. I get that I'll be doing most things in your training room, but there may be times when I'll need you to stop in to look over something, or what if one of you need to see me about something private."

 She had a point, though none of you had ever really gone to Dr. Lundin like that. Come to think of it, he wasn't really around that much. He more or less made recommendations on where you should go if you had a problem. He wasn't necessarily the doctor to fix you. Seems like (Y/N) planned on being more hands-on, and you were ok with that. "You make a good point. Give me a second." You stepped out of the room and called the Jim Nill, the general manager. You weren't sure he was the man to go to, but you knew he'd be there in the building at least and could possibly offer a solution. It was a short phone call, as you expressed (Y/N)'s concerns. Jim was happy to help and said that he'd get someone on moving her downstairs to one of the spare rooms that housed equipment at the moment. "All set. They're going to move you down next to the training room. It might take a few days to get in the stuff you want, but if you make a list, we'll leave it at the front desk and make sure it gets taken care of."

 "Thank you, Jamie. I really appreciate you doing that."

 Her praise was like music to your ears, you could remember the days when you'd have a good game and she would go on and on about how well you played and you'd literally soak up every word that came out of her mouth. "No problem, guess we should head down there then." You showed her the room, which she seemed pleased with, then took her over to the training room. A couple of the trainers were still in there from practice, so you introduced her to them.

 "I hate to be a pain in the ass but would any of you mind if I changed the set up here. I don't want to step on anyone's toes. I just see a few things that could make this more efficient."

 "Sure, go ahead," Dave, the head trainer told her.

 "So, see these units right here. They would work so much better if you had them in between the training tables. That way two guys can be on the machine at the same time."

 "Oh, I see what you're saying." They went to move the equipment, it looked heavy so you helped as well. (Y/N) was opening up cabinets and taking things out, then moving them to other ones.

 "Is the AAC," she looked over as you to confirm she'd said that right. "Setup like this as well."

 "Pretty much," Dave told her.

 "Could we make these changes there as well?" They seemed to be a bit annoyed, but she wasn't deterred. "Bear with me for a moment. Say Jamie has a cut to his eye that needs to be stitched." She looked at you to play the part.

 "Ow my eye," your acting was horrible and they all laughed.

 "When he comes into the room, we take him right to the nearest table, which is here." You sat down where she gestured. "It's obvious, he needs stitches, but the medical cabinet is all the way over on the other side of the room, and by the time we get there, look for what we need then come back we've waist two minutes of playing time and we don't even have a single stitch that we need in." She was making a lot of sense. "If we had our sterile supplies here, and then individually marked and put in like this." She rearranged the cabinet as she talked. "Then when Jame comes in with the cut. We can assess it and stitch him up in no time."

 "Makes sense," Dave agreed. "I'll get to work on changing the AAC as well." He and the other trainer were done for the day and said their goodbyes before heading out.

 "Hey Jame," you noticed she'd started using your nickname and you weren't upset about it. "Could you move this table over to here?"

 "No problem."

 "Is something wrong?"

 Quite the opposite actually, you thought today was going pretty well. "Um, no why?"

 "You're favoring your right shoulder. I saw you do it earlier."

 "Oh, I think I just slept wrong on it or something." Well tossed and turned on it was more like it, as thoughts of her pervaded your mind.

 "Sit." It was a command and one that you were not to argue with. She came up behind you then, her hands going on your shoulders, kneading and massaging your shoulders and for a moment it felt like heaven, just having her hands on you again. Then she pushed down hard on a particular spot and you winced. "Tender?"

 "A bit."

 She came around in front of you and stepped in between your legs. "This might hurt a little." Hurt? God, she was killing you at the moment, as her body was almost pressed intimately up against yours. You willed your growing erection to calmed down, but apparently, it had a mind of its own. She moved your arm in a weird position, then pressed down almost under your armpit but not quite. (Y/N) was right, it did hurt a tiny bit, and you grunted at the pain. "Sorry." She went back to kneading your muscles, while you caught the scent of her perfume, or maybe it was just her, either way, it intoxicated you. You closed your eyes inhaling deeply, willing your body under control. You'd give anything at that moment to just wrap her in your arms and press her lips to yours. Would her lips be as sweet as they once were? Would she kiss you back with the same abandonment as she had that first time so long ago? There were so many questions swirling in your head, and you wanted to know the answers, but it was too soon. If you attempted any of this now, you'd take the chance of losing her for good and it was not a risk you were willing to make. All too soon for your liking, she stepped back. "Does that feel any better?"

 You rotated your shoulder and neck a few times. "Yeah, it actually feels amazing."

 "Excellent," a huge satisfied grin on her face, which only made you smile back. You felt it then, a shift in the air, almost as if her heart was giving way to you in some small manner. Maybe it was just you, but there was something in the way that her eyes held yours, the way they softened as she gazed at you. You remembered that look, had only dreamt of seeing it in her eyes again but now here you were, afraid to blink for if you did it would break the spell. Her watch chimed then, like the clock striking midnight in a fairytale. "I really should be going," she told you, and just like Cinderella, she was running away only this time you knew she wouldn't get far. "So, Wednesday, then right?"

 "Yeah, three o'clock."

 "Ok, I'll see you then."

 "Hey (Y/NN)," she turned back around. "Since we're heading downtown, why don't I just drive us both down. I'll show you the shortcut." She seemed to mull that over a bit.

 "Sounds good." She made a move to leave again, only this time, she stopped herself. "Thank you for today Jame. I really appreciate you showing me around."

 She called you Jame again, another step in the right direction. "Anytime, (Y/NN)." You sighed happily as she walked out of the training room. You were one step closer to winning the girl of your dreams back.

  READER'S POV

 What was wrong with you? You seriously needed to get ahold of yourself. That moment in the training room could not happen again. For god's sake, your watch had to chime to tell you to breathe, because you were pretty sure you'd stopped. There had been something in Jamie's eyes. Those big beautiful brown ones of his, that you could spend hours looking into. People always said the eyes were like windows into your soul, and if that were true you saw your own reflected in Jamie's. The shocking thing was, it didn't frighten you like it should. There was this small part of you that wanted to fall headfirst straight into him, but you couldn't. This time it wasn't just your reputation as being easy riding on the line. It would be your reputation as a doctor and a professional as well, and that was something you would not let him ruin.

 You turned over yet again in what felt like the most enormous bed at the moment. You couldn't seem to get comfortable and sleep was evading you, as thoughts of Jamie filled your head. Every time you closed your eyes there he was, smiling as he took another bite of cake in his mouth, laughing when you least expected it. It was all quite maddening and thrilling at the same time. This time you sat up in bed. Grabbing your iPad, you opened your one guilty pleasure and started reading the romance novel you'd started on the plane here. You hadn't picked it up, since the day you saw Jamie. It would provide the perfect distraction from him.

 You were about three chapters in when things started to turn a bit steamy, and as you read each line you found your hands wandering over your body. Your hands snuck up your shirt, wishing that it was our hero's gliding over your breasts the way he caressed the main characters. As the dialogue went on, you got more and more turned on, until you abandon the book for your own pleasure. Closing your eyes, you pictured the protagonist with his dark locks, kissing his way down your body. Your hands would thread into his hair, as he kissed above your panty line, before slowly shimming them down your legs. It was almost as if you could feel his warm breath against your thigh making you shiver. You let your fingers mimic his, as they slid between your folds, your pussy already wet with desire for him. He softly kisses you there then, his beard somewhat scratchy against your sensitive skin, but it was a feeling you yearned for. His long fingers would slip inside, moving in and out of you slowly at first driving you mad. Your hips flexed up, as you gave over to the fantasy, craving the faceless man's touch. You could see the muscles of his back stretch across his skin and you longed to rake your nailed down them as he thrust his cock inside you, though it was his torturous fingers driving you wild at the moment. You were close now, just teetering on the edge with the need to cum.  Rubbing your clit with your other hand, you thrust your fingers in out of you in a motion that you knew would take you to the heights you sought. Only your mind told you it was his fingers, his tattooed arm, his wicked tongue that was taking you there. Eyes closing tighter, as you fully emersed yourself in the fantasy, you felt the orgasm begin to build. Your legs started to tremble and your breathing was erratic, and then it hit and you were screaming out his name. "YES…JAMIE…YES!" Your eyes flew open, at the sound of his name echoing off the bedroom walls. It was Jamie you were picturing the entire time. He was the man giving you such exquisite pleasure. The realization had you spinning and throwing the covers over your head, too bad you couldn't hide from yourself. How were you ever going to face him in a couple days?

 Sleep was something that evaded you that night and the next, well not entirely you did get a few hours here and there. The only problem was Jamie seemed to creep into your dreams as well. There were ones where the two of you were laughing and joking and having the most amazing time, and ones that had you calling out his name in pleasure again as well. But the ones that got to you the most, were where he was with Caitlyn. They would be holding hands or kissing right in front of you. You'd wake up so angry that you wanted to punch something or someone, namely Caitlyn. It had you questioning why though. If you didn't have feelings for Jamie, then why were you so angry at some college girl who threw herself at him. The deeper you dug into that, the more you didn't like the answer, for it meant there was still something there between you.

 Thankfully, Wednesday came and so did your teaching surgeries, which meant you had something else to think about other than Jamie Benn. It was an early morning as most days in the operating room were, so at five, you grabbed a coffee and headed to the hospital. As you suspected, Dr. Ellis had you tag along on his other three knee arthroplasties, which meant you were walking out of the OR just before noon. If you timed it right, you could grab a quick bite to eat before going over charts and then be at Jamie's before three to tour the AAC.

 "I've got to say your method in that replacement was impeccable," Dr. Ellis told you as you headed down the hallway to the doctor's lounge.

 "Thanks, it took a little time for me to get things right, but as I said when you take that ligament…"

 "Dr. Ellis, you're needed in the ER for a consult; car versus pedestrian," the nurse told him, and immediately your heart sank. You always hated seeing these kinds of accidents come through the hospital. "It's a twelve-year-old, his leg is in bad shape. I'm not sure it can be saved."

 "Dr. (Y/LN), would you join me?"

 "Of course." The two of you quickened your pace as you rushed to the wounded child. "I thought you said this wasn't a trauma hospital?"

 "It's not. I'm not sure how this case got here."

 The moment you got to the ER, you didn't have to be directed as to where to go. Doctors and nurses rushed in and out of the room at a frenzied pace. It had honestly been a good year since you'd done any extensive trauma work, but the adrenaline came rushing back through your veins with a force of a good slap shot. When you entered the room, it was worse than you expected, you'd only seen one other case that was this bad. You rattled off a flurry of questions, to those around you, trying to assess the damage. "I think we're going to have to amputate," the chief emergency physician said.

 "Only as a last resort." You looked at Dr. Ellis. "If you're willing, I'd like to try and save this child's leg, but we need to get him in the OR now."

 Not even a second ticked by, before he said, "You heard her people, let's move." Everyone started rushing to get him prepped for surgery.

 "I'll need your assistance," you told him as the two of you made your way back, nurses following close behind.

 "Of course, anything you need."

 "Oh, I need someone to call Jamie Benn." Dr. Ellis gave you a funny expression. "He was to show me around the arena today in a couple hours. I need to push that back." He nodded to the nurse who jotted down the information before the two of you went to scrub up.

 The surgery was grueling, your feet hurt and your back ached from standing in the OR for over twelve hours, but it was worth it. You were able to save young Noah's leg. And while most of those that had joined you in the operating room were headed out for drinks, which they wanted you to join, you were putting back on the dress that you'd chosen this morning to wear for your tour with Jamie. Admittedly, you may have decided on it because it showed a little more cleavage than usual and that it was Jamie's favorite color, but right now you'd give anything to not have to wear it for another couple of hours as you walked around an arena trying to remember where the entrance and exit were. Though still you, glided it over your body and headed out the door.

 You thought about pulling into your driveway, but decide to go straight to Jamie's instead. Your feet already hurt from standing all day, and the heels that you'd brought earlier now felt like they were twenty inches high instead of the three that they were. No point in walking extra steps from your place to his. You rang the doorbell and almost immediately Jamie answered. "You look…"

 "Like hell." You finished for him as he stepped aside you let you inside his house and even through your exhaustion you realized this was the first time you were seeing the inside of his home.

 "I wasn't going to say that."

 "Oh, well I feel like it," you added. "But anyhow, are you ready to go?" You were standing in the entranceway taking everything in, the vaulted ceilings, the winding staircase, even the glass doors were things that you'd talked about with him when you were younger. It was almost a carbon copy of your dream home that you two talked about.

 "Um…well, I kind of didn't think you'd be up for it tonight."

 "Oh, thank god."

 He chuckled as you sagged in relief of knowing that you wouldn't have to put another ten thousand steps in. "I have an alternative if that's alright." You had no idea what he could be thinking, but anything other than a thirty to forty-minute drive downtown would be better. Just then your stomach growled, the sound seemed to fill the room and Jamie's eyebrow shot up.

 "Sorry, I haven't eaten since six this morning."

 "Well, then I think you're going to like my idea. Follow me." He headed into the open concept, kitchen, and living room, which was decorated all in white. "I kind of figured you'd be hungry, so I cooked us dinner. You still like salmon, right?"

 "Love it." You couldn't believe that he went to all this trouble. You could see the table set perfectly, and that he had a couple pots on the stove, which smelled divine. "This is so much better than the drive-thru I was going to beg you to go to."

 "Fast food, really? Come on (Y/NN) I would've sworn you'd go for pizza at least."

 "I mean well, obviously, but when you're crunched on time."

 "So, does this mean you're staying for dinner?" It wasn't in your original plans, but he'd gone to all this trouble, and well, you did have to eat.

 "I'd love to."

 "Great, I just need to get the grill going. How about a glass of wine while we wait?" You nodded, after the day you had, wine sounded perfect. "Red or white."

 "A dry white since we're having fish." His walk-in wine cellar was to die for and filled from head to toe, you couldn't help sneaking a peek behind him. "I didn't realize you were a wine drinker."

 He shrugged, the movement careless and carefree. "From time to time, I enjoy a glass. It's always better to share it with someone though." God, you'd said the exact words almost a hundred times. You loved your wine, but it was almost self-indulgent to just open a bottle and drink it yourself, so you rarely did it. He chose one, then came back out to the kitchen to uncork it. "I almost hate to ask, but how did the surgery go?"

 "It was long, but we ended up saving Noah's leg."

 "Oh my god, that's amazing."

 "Well, I don't know…"

 He didn't let you finish, just scooped you up in a hug. One that literally lifted you off the ground. It took your breath away not only from the shock of it but because of the way it made you feel. There were so many times you'd completed something successful in the OR only to come home to an empty house and no one to share it with, sure you had your family to call, who were always thrilled, but this, this was different. It was someone sharing in your joy and happiness, and you could feel it in the way that he held you that he was just as excited as you were. All too soon he put you down as if he realized he'd overstepped his bounds. "Sorry," Jamie told you taking a step back, yet still wearing a huge grin. "But you freaking saved a kid's leg. Like who does that." Again, he didn't give you time to answer. "You're truly amazing, (Y/N)."

 A blush rose to your cheeks at his compliments or maybe it was from the way he held you and you longed to feel his arms back around you. Either way, the room suddenly got a bit warm. "Thank you."

 He poured you both a glass of wine, then lifted his. "To the most amazing doctor. Dallas is lucky to have you." You clinked your glass with his then took a sip of the crisp chardonnay.

 "This is good," you sighed as you took another drink. "Would it be terribly rude of me, if I took these shoes off? My feet are killing me."

 "God no, make yourself at home," he chuckled.

 "What I should really do is run home and change into some sweats. If only my feet didn't hurt so bad."

 "You can wear mine."

 "Oh no, I couldn't." Because really, you couldn't wear his sweats, that would just be going too far.

 "Please, you used to do it all the time." Ok well, he had you there. "I think you had more of my sweatshirts than I did at one point."

 "Hey, I couldn't help it, they were just so….cozy." He laughed again and you found yourself joining in.

 "Well, you're more than welcome to steal some. It's not like I don't have a ton from the organization. Which reminds me, I'll make sure they send you over some stuff."

 "Oh, that would be nice."

 "Until then just go put mine on. You know you'll be more comfortable." He was right, but it felt a little awkward and you hoped he wouldn't read into it.

 "You're sure?" He gave you that look, the one that told you if you didn't get your ass into his sweats, he might kick it, and you had to laugh. "Ok, ok." It kind of felt like old times, only without all the bad stuff that happened, and god help you; you liked it.

 "Upstairs go to the left. They are in my closet on the right-hand side. Bottoms are in the third drawer and the sweatshirts are hanging up. I'm going to go throw the salmon on."

 He headed out to the grill, and you made your way upstairs. The bedroom had pristine white walls, like the majority of the house. A massive four-poster king-size bed was done in shades of gray; it reminded of you the bed you shared long ago once. You shook yourself, as memories of that first time with Jamie came flooding back. There was no point in dwelling on that; you told yourself as you made your way into the huge walk-in closet. It was neatly arranged and you had to wonder if it was Jamie being meticulous or if he had a housekeeper that did all this for him. A shelf on the left side caught your eye. There were photos there nestled with his colognes. A picture of when he was drafted sat there, along with one from when he won his gold medal playing for Team Canada. At that moment, you realized you'd missed so much of his life. All these major life-changing events, that had things gone differently, you would've been part of, or at least you told yourself you would've. You sighed, feeling a heaviness in your chest that you didn't want to explore at the moment.

 Turning to the right, you went to grab the sweats like you were supposed to instead of digging around in Jamie's closet. You found them easily then moved down to grab a sweatshirt off the rack. You didn't really pay too much attention, just grabbed a Stars hoodie then started to head toward the bathroom to change. Again, photos caught your eye. These more personal. There was one of him with his mom and dad, that brought a smile to your face. You'd always loved his parents. Another was him with Jordie and Jenny, and still another with just him and Jenny's daughter. It was the one next to that, that made your breath hitch and your heart beat faster. It was a picture of the two of you, one of your favorites from Canada Day. You'd been out at the lake house with his family, and someone had candidly captured the two of you just staring happily into each other's eyes, a smile playing across both your faces. You remembered the moment like it was yesterday. That he would still have this picture was just….well, it was a lot to digest. You'd burned yours in a moment of anger weeks after what had happened, but Jamie, well apparently he kept his and still had it on display. What did this mean? Did he still have feelings for you? Did he still love you? Moreover, how did you feel about him now, after all this time? There were so many questions in your head, it was making you dizzy.

 You rushed into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on your face. Part of you wanted to run the two houses down to your home and lock the door behind you, but that would solve nothing. So instead, you inhaled deeply, getting control of your emotions just as you would before you entered the operating room. There was nothing between you and Jamie anymore, the two of you were just…well, you were trying to be friends, that's all this was. You quickly changed into his clothes, throwing your dress across the huge soaking tub, then you plopped your hair on top of your head in a messy bun. It was only then that you looked at yourself in the mirror. It was a reflection of your teenage self, the one that loved Jamie with her whole heart, but you weren't that girl. You were older and wiser, and you were not about to let your heart get trampled on by one Jamie Benn again. Squaring your shoulders, you headed back downstairs, where you'd pretend as if you hadn't seen the picture of the two of you that set your heart aflutter.

 When you entered the kitchen, Jamie's jaw dropped and you knew he was seeing that same version of your teenage self that you saw moments ago, though he recovered quickly. "You look more…comfortable."

 "I am. Thanks again for letting me borrow these." You decided to not mention, how they made you look, or feel for that matter. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

 "I've got it pretty much under control. Just prop up your feet, it'll be ready in a few."

 "It smells delicious."

 "Thanks."

 "When did you learn how to cook? Because from what I remember, you could barely boil water." It was true, he was never that great in the kitchen, but from the aroma, his skills had definitely improved.

 "Well, when you're on your own as long as I've been, you learn quick." He finished mixing, what looked like some sort of sauce before drizzling it over the asparagus that he'd broiled. "Besides, I can't burn off a large pizza the way I used. If I indulged in that every night, I'd have even more of a dad bod than I do now."

 "Oh stop, you do not have a dad bod. Trust me I've seen plenty of those and you're not it." With his toned arms and legs, he seemed more in shape than when he was sixteen years old. Well at least more defined. In fact, just looking at his thighs brought all sorts of wild fantasies to your mind. Oh my god, you needed to stop thinking of Jamie like this or there was going to be another sleepless night in your future.

 "Thanks," he answered back to your compliment. "Though I will never live down the nickname Chubbs."

 You laughed, like full-on belly laugh. "Oh my god, tell me that did not follow you around."

 "With Jordie on the same team," he said while rolling his eyes and joining in your laughter. "Of course, it did. It's fine though, actually, it'd be weird if people didn't call me that."

 "I'll have to remember that, Chubbs." He raised his eyebrow at you before stepping out to grab the salmon. This really was nice, the two of you just laughing and joking, maybe you could be friends after all.

 "Your dinner, madam," he said as he placed what looked like something out of a five-star restaurant in front of you, before sitting down in the chair beside you.

 "Wow, this looks amazing."

 "Well, it's not the celebration dinner you deserve for saving a kid's leg, but it will have to do." He raised his glass again towards you. "To an amazing doctor." He needed to stop making these toasts to you, as they made you blush every time.

 The conversation at dinner flowed easily, like two old friends who hadn't seen each other in ages, instead of two exes. You reminisced about old times and caught up on gossip from back home. It was all really refreshing, and you realized that you'd worried about moving to Dallas for no reason at all. You helped him clean up the dishes, then you both moved into the living room to finish up the bottle of wine. "I was thinking," Jamie told you. "I drew out the AAC a bit, that way if you're schedule gets too packed, you'd have somewhat of a map to get you around."

 There he went again, being all kind and sweet. A complete contrast to the man that you'd hated for the past fourteen years. "That's really nice of you. Let's have a look." He laid it out on the table and started to explain what parking garage to use and where that entrance would put you once you were inside. He was about midway through when the knot in your neck from surgery today, decided to stiffen a bit. You tilted your head to the right, then to the left; in an attempt to work it out.

 "Little stiff?"

 "Yeah, sometimes long hours in the OR, make my neck not want to hold my head up anymore."

 He chuckled then moved back against the side of the couch so that he could rub your shoulders. "Here let me."

 "You know, I'm supposed to be the one helping you out, not the other way around."

 "Yeah, well humor me." You turned, giving him your back. His hands were gentle as they kneaded the muscles there and you had to admit it felt really good. You could feel yourself relaxing back against him. "Scoot up for a second." You did as he asked and then he swung his one leg up so that you were now seated in between his legs, then he went back to working on your muscles. "Better?"

 "Mmm," you sighed out and let your eyes drift shut. It had been a long time since anyone had taken care of you the way that Jamie had tonight; cooking you dinner first and now this. He gently nudged you back against him, as your body grew heavy. Slowly, you drifted off to sleep. What you didn't know, was how Jamie settled you fully against his body, then grabbed the blanket that was strewn across the back of the couch to cover you up. Nor did you know how he pressed a kiss to your head, as his arms slid around your waist. He knew that he should probably wake you up, but he couldn't resist the opportunity to hold you in his arms even if it was for just a little bit. Jamie told himself that he'd just lay with you here for a little bit, let you rest for just a few minutes, but what he didn't plan on was falling asleep with you.

 You weren't sure what woke you, maybe it was the light snoring in your ear, but you found it hard to rouse yourself out of slumber. You were just too comfortable, too cozy, too content, to want to wake up. There was just this safe and secure feeling that you had that just kept lulling you back to sleep. But slowly, you came alive. You blinked a few times, trying to figure out where you were. This wasn't anything new, when you were an intern, you'd wake up all over the hospital depending upon where you fell asleep, and moving to Dallas you still weren't used to your new home, but nothing here looked at all familiar. It was then that you noticed, someone's arms around your midsection, and that you were sleeping on said person's chest. A light bulb went off in your head, and you realized that person was Jamie. Obviously, you'd fallen asleep at some point, you just didn't know why Jamie hadn't woken you up. Instead, he chose to fall asleep as well.

 You should be in a panic, but for some reason, your not. It just all feels so…right. Only it shouldn't feel that way at all. You shouldn't want his arms wrapped around you like they are, and you shouldn't like the gentle rise and fall of his chest as you lay against him, and you definitely shouldn't have your fingers interlaced with his, but you do. You actually could stay like this…well if you're being honest…forever, and that scares the living hell out of you. It's then you decide you have to get out there and you start to untangle your limbs from him. The movement waking Jamie. "Mmhmm," he hums sleepily and for some reason, your heart flutters at the sound. His hands tighten around your waist and you don't cringe like you should, but if you stay here any longer, you don't know what will happen.

 "Jamie," you whisper. "Jame."

 His eyes peek open as you turn and look at him. There's a slow smile that comes to his lips, that just sends heat to your core. Fuck, you need to get out of here. Then realization dawns on him, "Oh shit, I must have fallen asleep." He's scrambling now and so are you. "I'm sorry….I only meant to let you sleep for a bit." Oh, so he didn't mean to hold you all night and make you feel cherished? Why does your heart sink at that knowledge?

 "It's ok, but I should really be going." You're a little stiff as you get up off the couch and look around the kitchen for your purse, noticing that it's five in the morning. "I need to get ready for rounds at the hospital."

 His hands go to the back of his neck, then comes around the rake down the front of his face. "I'm really sorry…"

 "Jamie, it's fine. I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have fallen asleep on you like that." You slip back into your heels then head towards the front door. "Thank you again for dinner."

 "Anytime," he mumbles and there's this look of confusion on his face. You can't decide if it's about waking up with you in his arms or if he's still not fully awake yet, but you're not going to ask, as you open the door and slip out. "Hey (Y/NN)." You turn back around the minute you hear his voice. "I'll call you," he tells you, and damnit if your heart isn't beating faster again, like your fifteen and the prospect of this hot hockey player calling you is just doing weird things to your insides that medical science can't explain. "About rescheduling the tour."

 "Right, the tour," you muttered and suddenly, it's not as romantic as it all seemed a moment ago. "Yeah, we definitely need to do that. Thanks again." You shut the car door so fast and drive the two houses down, which looks completely stupid, as Jamie stands on his front porch watching you, making sure you get inside ok.

 What the hell just happened? It's the only question you can think of as you drag yourself up to the ensuite in your bedroom, so you can wash your face. You grab a cloth and turn the water on, your mind trying to digest the last ten minutes. You just spent the night with Jamie Benn, and you're not mad about it. You're not mad about it at all and that's frightening. A week ago, you didn't want to be in the same room with him for five minutes. Now, you were laughing over dinner and falling asleep in his arms. Jesus, what were you thinking? You look up at yourself in the mirror and all you can see is his damn hoodie and sweats on you. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, but instead, all you can do is smell him. He's on your clothes, well of course he is, they're his, you idiot. You swear when you pull your hair all the way down from its even messier bun that your hair smells of him too. And when you close your eyes you can feel him; his arms wrapped around you holding you close, and damn if you don't want that again.

 "NO," you yell out to yourself in the mirror. "No, no, no." He's not good for you. He'll break your heart. Your mind knows all these things and still, your heart is trying to open the door and let him in. This can't happen, you need a plan. No, what you need is someone to remind you how he broke your heart.

 You pick up your phone and dial your best friend, Emma. She'd been with you through the whole breakup with Jamie and remained by your side through every dumb mistake you made afterward. Emma had even moved to the east coast, when you went to John Hopkins, though she'd met the love of her life there and was now engaged. You knew it was early, but you also knew that your best friend would answer the phone if it was you who was calling. "Hello, sunshine," she answered all cheerful and it only put you in a fouler mood.

 "Really? How are you this happy in the morning?"

 "You know I've always been a morning person. Now, please tell me what happened with Jamie."

 "How do you know something happened with him?" It was truly baffling how she could just read you like an open book.

 "Why else would you call me at six-thirty in the morning? Tell me he's not breaking your heart already?"

 "It's worse." You pause trying to figure out the best way to tell her. "I think I'm falling for him again."

 "Get out!" She shouted at you through the telephone. "It's been like what ten days?"

 "God, when you put it like that, it sounds insane."

 "It's not insane (Y/N)." At least Emma didn't think you were crazy for possibly falling back in love with Jamie. "You two have history, like big-time history, and that just doesn't go away overnight. The question is what do you want to do about it?"

 "I don't know, Em." It was true, you were so conflicted about whether you should just shut Jamie out completely, or open your heart just one more time. You were hoping your best friend could shed some light on the situation.

 "Well, then I think I have your solution." You waited patiently for her to tell you what it was. "You know what they say, in order to get over someone, you need to get under someone." Had you heard her right, did she really just tell you to go out and have sex with someone random?  

.

[that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick]

Summary: Winry sat in the optimal place to study in the school cafe for the entire fall semester. Then spring came, and suddenly some self-entitled twit who dressed like off-brand Gerard Way decided it was his territory. He was so not going to get off easy.

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.8k words of coffee shop/college AU with a side of enemies to almost-lovers

A/N: It's finals week, I posted this on Ao3 at almost 5am, and if the rest of the sentence didn't make it obvious, I'm writing from unfortunate experience. Not beta-ed or proofread, although I happened to see one thing to fix when I woke up this morning. Feel my raw power. Rawr.

It wasn't that big a deal.

It kind of really was, though.

Every Thursday morning during the fall semester, Winry sat in the same spot at the same school coffee shop. It was the spot sent by the entire patron pantheon of cram papers. Maybe one person didn't need an entire booth, but it was in the corner, and the tops of the bench seats had opaque plastic barriers that just so happened to be perfect for minimizing excess visual chaos. For the most part, there weren't loud conversations, and the jazz music that came through the speakers helped her tune out people ordering coffee. Add to that the fact that she could use campus flex dollars and not her own bank account that was begging for mercy, and it was the perfect spot to get papers done.

But apparently not this spring.

As soon as Winry walked in, she noticed him in the corner. Some emo wannabe guy on his computer. Probably on Reddit complaining about how women didn't appreciate the amazing pics he sent them on Tinder. Or at least, it was a fair guess based on the sour look on his face. Why did this guy of all people have to steal the holy grail spot? Ugh. She was still gonna get her coffee, darn it.

"You know the deal, Sciezska. Medium roast with a shot of espresso and vanilla creamer."

"On it! You paying in flex?"

"Yeah." She scanned her student ID and lowered her voice. "Who's off-brand Gerard Way in the corner?"

"Who's Ger—"

"The punk kid."

"Ohhh. I can try to get his number for you, if you want."

"No, he looks like a total tool! And not the kind I like dealing with!"

"Which means you think he's hot. I didn't think you were into that type, but you're not wrong."

"For the last time, no, Sciezska! He took my spot! And I'm trying very, very hard to keep this to a stage whisper, but if you keep trying to set me up with some random creep, I won't be able to!"

A distinctly male voice grumbled, "I'm not a creep."

"Keep telling that to the girls on Tinder. I'm sure they'll understand eventually."

"Yeah, and I'll bet if you look at your 'Live, Laugh, Love' sign a little more, you'll understand it eventually." He mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that, Mr. Nice Guy?"

"Lay off, it's eight in the morning. I said the only reason I even have a Tinder account is because my roommate stole my phone while I was going to the bathroom."

"Well, if you didn't want it, why didn't you delete it?"

"Eh, I figured if I really got sick of being single one day, it'd already be there."

"Never would have guessed you were single," Winry said dryly.

"Come on, it's way too early to be rubbing that kind of crap in. Who says I'm not fine with being single anyway?"

Sciezska timidly spoke up. "Medium roast with espresso and vanilla creamer?"

Winry thanked her as red jacket boy continued. "'Edward Elric, Bachelor.' Almost sounds as good as 'Edward Elric, Bachelor of Science.'"

"B.S. degree. Sounds about right."

"About time you stopped acting like I'm an idiot!"

Winry snorted. "That's not what I meant."

"Hey!"

"And with that, I'm going to go find some other spot to write my paper."

Edward, as his name apparently was, scoffed and mumbled something that sounded like "good riddance". Maybe the librarians wouldn't get on her case too much for bringing in coffee.

-----

A week later, Winry walked into the cafe, assuming the circumstances of the previous week were an anomaly. They were not.

"Medium roast with a shot of espresso and vanilla creamer," she grumbled and sulked in the direction of the corner seat.

"Hey, don't start with me again, blondie. I've had a whopping four hours of sleep and I can't promise you'll like what comes out of my mouth."

"We're at a coffee shop. Get some coffee. I can't help it if you're too hung over to be polite."

"Now look, genius. I did not stay up until 4 A.M. working on a stupid chem paper for that sadistic pyromaniac excuse for a professor just for some random chick to accuse me of being hung over."

"Oh."

"Yeah. And for your information, coffee doesn't really help me wake up. It just helps me focus on homework." He lifted up his empty cup and gave it a shake.

"That's the weirdest thing I've ever heard."

"ADHD is a weird thing, and yet, here I am."

"Huh, interesting."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to pick up where I left off with the same stupid ten page paper I started last night."

"Oh right. Sure," Winry stammered. "Listen, I'm really sorry I just assumed things about you. It was wrong of me, and I'd like to make it up to you, if that's okay."

Edward eyed her suspiciously. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well...I could look over your paper once you're done writing it? I've got a paper of my own to write while I'm waiting, and I can sit right across the table here so you don't have to come get me. I won't try to talk to you or anything. Neither of us need that kind of distraction."

"Alright, alright. Get your coffee and sit down. The girl at the counter's been up there waiting for a good minute or two while you've been at confessional over here."

"Wait, she has?" Winry's eyes widened, and Edward laughed at her expense. He was kind of attractive when he wasn't scowling...wait what? She pouted and got up to retrieve her coffee. When Winry returned, she plopped down on the bench opposite Edward and opened her laptop. Peeking out from behind it, she added, "By the way, I'm Winry. I figured you ought to at least know the name of the person who's proofreading your paper."

"Well, Winry, you're the one who volunteered." The corners of his mouth twitched upward. The two worked on their assignments in silence, occasionally speaking up when necessary.

-----

Edward was in the corner again the next week as well.

"Hey, Edward! Mind if I join you for homework again?"

"Normally, I'd say no, but you didn't bother me too much last week, so you might as well." He turned away slightly.

"Great! Have you gotten your coffee yet? I didn't see a cup, and you got something the last two times."

"Eh, I haven't been here long. If you're going up and getting yours, would you mind ordering a caramel macchiato for me?" He asked, sliding his ID across the table.

"Yeah, no problem. I'll be back in a sec."

She returned and slipped his ID back before pulling out her computer. "Do you have anything for me to look over this time?"

"Not this week. But if you have anything you need looked over, I can do that, too."

"Actually, I do, if you wouldn't mind."

"Winry, I just volunteered. Just send the paper to my school email. Mine's 'elricedwa'," he instructed as he proceeded to spell it.

"Medium roast and a caramel macchiato?" Sciezska called out.

"Coming!" Winry replied and turned to Edward. "I just sent it, so you should be able to start while I'm getting our stuff." Eyes glued to his laptop, Edward gave a thumbs up.

Once she returned with their drinks, Winry sat down and wordlessly set Edward's drink next to him.

"Thanks," he muttered distantly. His lips mirrored the words he was reading. Though his lips weren't plump by any stretch of the imagination, they were shapely. His steely concentration made the air leave Winry's lungs. To top it all off, the first rays of sunlight came through the window just right, hitting Edward's hair in a way that made it positively glow.

What was she thinking? Those were only the sorts of things people thought when they had a crush. She'd only had two positive interactions with him, including this one. ...well, maybe it was a crush. She could certainly do worse than someone with a questionable fashion sense. After all, he worked hard, and he got good grades, if the quality of his writing was any indication. Okay, fine. He was also drop dead gorgeous, if you could see past his clothing choices. Yeah, she had a crush.

"Did you hear anything I just said?"

"...no."

"Figures. I finished reading your paper. It's not bad, I just left a few suggestions for sentence structure. Now I am going to enjoy my caramel macchiato." He took off the lid and breathed in the steam with his eyes closed, nearly drooping into the cup in content. When he opened his eyes slowly, Winry was awestruck by the similarity between the color of his eyes and his drink.

"What?" Edward furrowed his eyebrows.

"Nothing. I didn't say anything. At all. Nope."

"Okay." He shrugged. She reopened the document and went through his suggested edits. Gnawing her lip in concentration, she leaned forward a bit to settle in and tackle the editing.

"...hey, uh, Winry?" Edward gulped. "Are you going to drink your coffee?"

"Oh! Yeah, I almost forgot. Thanks, Edward!" she smiled.

"No–no problem. And you can call me Ed, you know. Most people do. Except for that excuse for a professor that calls me pipsqueak. Can you believe he's my advisor? I mean, come on, I'm a grown man. I'm not that short."

Winry made a poor attempt at containing her laughter. "Okay then, Ed. Prove it. Stand up."

"Fine." He slid out of the booth and stood. Winry followed suit and appraised their respective heights.

"Well, I'd hardly call you tall, but you're at least taller than me by a few inches, for whatever that's worth."

Edward grinned as if he had won some sort of prize. "Time for shorties to sit down now!"

"Watch it now. You're not too far from that label yourself, mister."

They both returned to their positions in the booth and worked steadily for the next hour. At the end of that time, Winry closed her laptop. "Ed, are you okay? You seem distracted."

"ADHD. I'm always distracted," he dismissed.

"No, like, are you sick or something? You did get more than four hours of sleep this time, right?"

"No comment." Ed's mouth twitched. He mumbled barely loud enough to hear, "Wouldn't have mattered anyway."

"Are you sure? If you're not feeling well, I can drive you over to the health center."

"N-no. That's not it." He exhaled, then slid a napkin across the table. His hands trembled slightly. "Anyway, here's my number. In case you need me to look over a paper. Or whatever. I've got a class soon."

Winry blushed, but tucked the napkin in her laptop. "Thanks, Ed. See you next week?"

"Yeah. Next week."

-----

Winry: This goes with your major, right?

Edward: Blocked

[asotin]

eyy @mira--mira tagged me to do a fic writer review. ty ty for continuing to let me talk about myself ksflkfd

i actually have three ao3 accounts, but i'm going to focus on deepestbluest

1. How many fics on AO3?

42 (officially…)

2. Total AO3 wordcount?

411,535

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

three: naruto, tales of berseria, and jujutsu kaisen (manga)

i'm trying to protect the anime-only people from the future, and i think that's very noble of me

4. Top Five by Kudos?

hunger

and you know my wishes are sincere

pilgrim soul

love / grace

underneath your family tree

ah yes, the kakairu days. one day i'll finish my wips for this ship. maybe. hopefully

5. Do you respond to comments, why/why not?

yes! i know a lot of people feel awkward leaving them, and i think it’s nice to acknowledge that someone overcame that awkwardness to say something. i feel like my responses aren’t very good, but i really appreciate the kindness!

6. What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

anthropogenesis, hands down. canon compliant veleanor will do that

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you've written?

it depends on what you mean by crossover. i don’t write full fusions where characters from one fandom meet characters from another, but i do like writing alternate universe fics with existing media. idk if it counts as crazy, but yakekomu is a hashimada crossover with the punisher

8. Have you received hate on a fic?

nah. i’ve gotten a bit of unsolicited concrit, but no actual hate

9. Do you write smut?

i do asdfghjkl. i feel like you can do a lot of introspection/character studies through that lens. it’s a good medium for exploring emotional vulnerability and intimacy, you know?

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of

11. Ever had a fic translated?

i have!! and you know my wishes are sincere and carbon were both translated into russian. it means the world to me that people liked them enough to do that :')

12. Ever co-written a fic before?

yes, one*. i co-wrote a little fic with a friend, and i enjoyed doing it. it's for the best that i don't collaborate though because i frequently delete entire fics or large amounts of them so i can start fresh, which would be awful if i were sharing with someone

*this is the exception to discussing deepestbluest. i also brainstormed with a friend about a fic we intended to write but never did

13. All time favorite ship?

oh god. this is impossible. they all appeal to my hindbrain

14. What's a WIP you want to finish, but don't think you ever will?

there's a sword dancer-inspired hashimada fic that i’m desperate to finish because it's a perfect fit. perfect

15. What are your writing strengths?

uhhhhhhhh i have very niche interests, so i think bring some fresh content?

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

typos. i also get bored pretty fast, so i think i tend to skip sections other people would enjoy, too. i also tend to get bored and bounce around, so i frequently forget where i was going with things

17. What are your thoughts of writing dialogue in other languages?

hmmm i’m not totally sure what this means? i'm only fluent in english (and that's debatable sometimes...), but if i spoke another language, i think i'd be fine writing in it. if this is asking what i think about translating phrases for things like fighting moves, it depends. for jjik, i use “jujutsu sorcerer” rather than jujutsu-shi, but i tend to write “kage bunshin” instead of “shadow clone” and “technique” instead of “no jutsu”

or if this is asking what i think about other people writing in languages that aren't english, i'm all for it! i'll try reading them if they're tagged with things i like. google translate and i will make an attempt

18. First fandom you wrote for?

naruto LOL

19. Favorite fic you've ever written?

it’s got to be shopworn. i love fix-its, and i think i did a good job of writing a fix-it that isn’t a total fix-it, if that makes sense

[blacksurvivalnostalgichanges]

I'd love to double on that topic and ask how would some specific characters react to their in-country changes, as peaceful Hart seeing how recent conflicts with minorities escalated to an unhealthy rate or Sissela discovering the whole deal with Greta Tumberg, or Chiara/Adriana/Arda reacting to the arson in Notre Dame etc.

Imma be honest, I’m white, young and not from any of those countries so I cannot say I’m equipped to talk about them beyond the stuff I’ve seen shared on tumblr, aka “this whatsapp chain told me this helps with coronavirus” except the chain came from a doctor you don’t know (but i’m still hard left, nonbinary and aromantic, and i think communism is the better option overall for systems so if you’re curious on what I believe on most political subjects you can probably guess from that)

That said (for the sake of clarifying I don’t pretend to be an authority on it and I realize I’m only well-informed in comparison to someone that has never read any news), again, I’m white so I’m gonna give my two cents on it anyway cuz that’s what we do amirite

I hold that if Hart saw how bad shit got she’d really want it to stay peaceful but once she realized it ain’t happening she’d probably be willing to let go of the peace in order to keep peace. I don’t think she’s the type to tone police people when they’re reacting to hardship because wanting to keep the peace proactively involves making sure whoever is trying to break the peace is stopped because I’d rather think Hart’s view on life is three-dimensional and adaptable; that’s much more interesting to analyze then. So I think she’d likely try to passively help in any way she can (monetarily I don’t think she’d be able to do that much but she might, id est, try to host a place where people protesting can go to treat themselves, and probably try to make music that informs people on the situation and brings attention to the cause. She’d likely still kinda quietly not be into the more violent protests but not say much since she can understand why it’s happening, as being uncomfortable with what you have to do doesn’t mean you’re gonna be against it.

I’m not that sure on what aspect of the Greta Thunberg deal you’re referring to? I think Sissela would probably feel kinda disappointed that someone that’s this young is speaking up about it, since it’s a sort of ‘sign’ that shit’s gone sideways if a kid is literally pleading with adults to do something, and feel a sort of anger that a bunch of people criticize her every move when she’s trying to do something good. But tbh I don’t see Sissela as being the type to be really into learning the issues of the world and trying to fix them, closer to having a “I have too many things to deal with to be even more stressed about what’s currently happening in the world” sort of mindset where learning about the other issue going on just leads to a profound sigh, so I don’t think she’d know that much about it. 

Though I think she’d be pretty angry at the straws thing since she is the type of person that’d want to use a straw, as she has chronic pain. That’s an extremely direct thing that’d inconvenience her.

Chiara would be extremely sad that such a special cathedral was burned, even if her feelings towards God and religion and herself are very mixed I think she’d be affected by something like that. Arda would probably be pretty fuckin’ angry that they burned down a historical place and try to erase the traces that were left there.

Adriana would probably feel pretty jealous of whoever did it since WOW YOU MADMAN YOU SET FIRE TO THE NOTRE DAME CATHEDRAL IT’S HUGE HOW WARM WOULD THAT BE- so they’d both probably not be that happy with her outlook on it

Some sidenotes I thought could be interesting (though it’s all as-is character stuff, I’m not taking into account character development they could have):

-As Alex is gay, I think he wouldn’t be thrilled with the fact that Russia’s been trying to take away LGBT rights

-Isol and Rozzi would probably think “hooray now getting weapons is EASIER congrats dickhead” if they saw that guns got legalized in Brazil after Pants Pockets Guy got elected into office. Rozzi would probably not be that worried beyond international public opinion stuff since her job means she isn’t in here that often most likely, but Isol’d likely be sort of “resigned” to the fact that now things just got even worse.

-Magnus would most likely be one of those dudes that go ‘blue lives matter’, not gonna lie. Even if he’s in a motorcycle gang, I’d be surprised if he didn’t spout that sort of thing.

-Rio and Yuki would probably have a sort of “culture shock” with everyone else even without taking current events into account, but I would kill to see how they’d interact with the characters from other countries when wearing masks came up. 

“people are so fucking ridiculous, there’s literally a story of a lady that wasn’t wearing a mask and used her underwear as a mask out of spite” “...people are that unwilling to wear masks over there?” “i hadn’t seen a single mask in my life before corona showed up, if that answers your question” “what do you do when you get sick then??” “you deal with it yourself and hope not hugging anyone is enough to not pass it” “dude” “oh yeah and you drink tea” “you drink tea.”

-william yeets the tear gas canisters back at the cops with no hesitation. entirely because that sounds very funny

[modernmarcy]

Just in case any of you guys ever feel ashamed of your own body or like there's something"wrong" with you for not looking like Instagram models...

It's an illusion. Made up. Not real, but instead carefully cultivated to make women feel bad about themselves so they'll spend $$$ trying to achieve unattainable looks.

People underestimate the extent of Photoshop used on seemingly amateur Instagram models- for more about that, check out the subreddit Instagram vs. Reality. It completely shattered my perception of beauty, and I regretted the wasted time- all those years I spent thinking I was shameful or wrong for not measuring up to these unrealistic standards, wasting money on junk science beauty and weight loss products, beating myself up because I'd been so expertly shown a reality designed to lead me to just that behavior.

But it wasn't reality. It was a multi-billion dollar industry trying to present a false reality for profit, manipulating the young, vulnerable, and extremely impressionable. Targeting them on purpose. There's a reason Instagram modeling is lucrative- that's where they reach young women, young girls still trying to understand their role and expectations in this world. And as a bonus, these young women are likely perceiving the model's product "recommendations" as made in good faith, not realizing the model doesn't use the product, not realizing the product won't change anything about them- except maybe make them feel more broken that the supposed "fix" didn't work for them.

It's gross our society continues to do this to impressionable young women. You guys are seriously beautiful and perfect as you are, and I know it's hard to believe that through all the bullshit messaging thrown at you by advertisers, and all the toxic attitudes and ideas your family and peers normalize, but you are not shameful or ugly for not looking like people who don't even look like themselves. We are just being manipulated to feel that way in hopes we will squander away our hard earned money trying to chase the impossible, spending our whole lives without truly accepting & loving ourselves.

I don't know about you guys, but I refuse to buy into it, and I sure as hell refuse to go along pretending like it's normal instead of predatory and deceptive and outright emotionally abusive. I don't accept the beauty industry using emotional abuse and manipulation for profit, and I won't let them pretend that these actions haven't had massive negative implications for entire generations' mental health and emotional stability. I won't pretend that a generation of mother's more obsessed with their own all-consuming shame of "inadequacy" than presenting a healthy relationship with body image for their daughters, than noticing the toxic patterns and ideas that they are reinforcing for her, isn't going to have a long-term impact on society. I won't pretend that they don't continue to profit off exactly this fact, the fact that their abuse perpetuates itself and primes more women to buy into their lie, the fact that they lead women to do such a huge disservice to the daughters they no doubt love & want better for. The fact that peers and media and even advertisements are participating in this false reality, inflating it to a level that can't be easily dismissed, because the fact is it's alienating to live in a different reality than the people around you.

Actions and words matter, even those made by advertising agencies, and they impact our society for decades. It's not a single drop in the ocean, it's a ripple effect that turns tsunami. I'm done pretending otherwise just because that's what the people with money want us to think. I think it's about time we started holding them accountable.

[mercurygray]

I'd love to have you come up with a Medici OC

I couldn’t just…come up with a character, you know. I had to do something with her.  And I’ve figured out that one of the things that’s really been grinding my gears on both seasons of Medici was how…alone…the women are? And I am all about women helping women.

So…here she is! The family she belongs to is real enough, but the person herself  (and her mother also appearing here) is a fiction.

This was not home.

It had been nearly four months since Clarice Orsini had married Lorenzo, three since she’d arrived her in Florence, but despite the renunciation of her name, her family, and her city, the Palazzo Medici  still made her feel like a stranger. Oh, she lived here, inasmuch as it could be called living - said her prayers in the chapel, and had her confession heard in San Lorenzo, entertained with her mother-in-law in the great rooms of the Palazzo, under the watchful eyes of all the Medici ancestors painted up on the walls - but this was not home.

Nor, at the rate she was going, did she think it ever would be. Her days were empty, her husband was a stranger to her  - and it seemed no matter what she did, she was always found wanting in the eyes of her mother-in-law.

The bell at the front door was ringing - another visitor? What was so important in this city that all these women came visiting each other every day? Clarice laid aside the shirt she was mending for Lorenzo and went  downstairs to greet their guest.

Lucretiza, of course, was already there, all smiles and politeness for the two women in their veils and cloaks. “Guilia!” They exchanged polite kisses, obviously on very familiar terms.

“We came to pay our respects on the occasion of your son’s marriage,” the older of the two women was saying. “It should have been sooner, I know, but my husband…”

“Is his gout not improved?” A shake of the head. Lucretiza looked upstairs, as if just noticing Clarice, and beckoned her down. “Ah, there you are, my dear. My daughter-in-law, Clarice. Clarice, this is Guilia de Bonsi - and her daughter, Bartolomea.”

Madonna Bonsi looked to be one of those matrons made along the old Florentine model, a stern woman of sound business principles that Clarice was realizing she would need to become quite well acquainted with if she was to survive here at all.  Her curtsey was stiff and formal, her eyes dark, direct, and not a little unforgiving, and gave the distinct impression that she disapproved of something about Clarice she did not yet want to name. The daughter was clearly her mother’s child, with the same dark hair and determined jaw, but there was a little levity in her eyes that suggested she was not as inflexible as her mother. “Very pleased to meet you, madonna,” the younger de Bonsi said with a smile, making her curtsy.

“The de Bonsi are good friends of the Medici,” Lucrezia said, stepping in and looking a little worried that her daughter in law could not speak for herself. “Signore de Bonsi deals in silk, and spices - they supply the kitchen here.”

“An account we are very glad to handle,” Madonna Guilia said with a thin-lipped smile. “I was hoping to hear, Madonna Lucretiza, if your son has news from Venice regarding this new tax we are hearing about…”

And with that, the two older women departed, leaving Clarice and Bartolomea standing awkwardly in the hall, Clarice unsure of what hospitality dictated she do. In Rome they had not done much entertaining, and Florence had its own customs - of which she was being constantly reminded, it seemed, by her mother-in-law, how she must dress and how she should speak - or what she should speak on! In Rome women were not expected to speak of business, whereas in Florence, among the great families it was all anyone ever talked about.  And to be left alone to fend for herself, when she did not know the first thing about Bartolomea de Bonsi save her name!

“Would you…care to come into the garden? My husband’s gardener has some…very fine orange trees that are just coming into fruit.”

Bartolomea nodded, following Clarice inside the center of the palazzo. “I can…ask someone to bring wine,” she offered, as they found a seat on one of the benches just within sight of the fountain, Clarice carefully arranging herself so she wouldn’t have to spend the entire visit staring at one of Lorenzo’s half-naked heroes over her guest’s shoulders. (That was another thing she was getting used to,  though she did not like that she should. Here Hercules stood staring at Venus, admiring her mirror without a stitch of clothing on. Madonna Ardinghelli had posed for it - she’d heard one of the servants saying so - and it was hardly seemly that her husband could look at another woman’s nakedness.)

Had her guest said something? She’d been so busy thinking she’d not been listening. “You must forgive me if my manners are bad; I am…still learning Florentine ways.”

“I was saying that I can’t imagine it’s very easy to marry into this family,” Bartolomea offered with a smile, glancing around at the impressive walls of the surrounding palazzo. “Or this city, for that matter. But you mustn’t let Mother frighten you, or anyone else. She’s just very old-fashioned and thinks that Florentine men should marry Florentine women.”

Had she looked frightened, standing at the door? She supposed she had. Since her marriage, she’d met most of the great families of the city and all of them seemed to find her…wanting. Clarice nodded, unsure of what else to say. Her guest, however, did not have that problem. “Your husband has a very fine collection here, madonna.”

“Yes, he does. I’m…still learning all the names, and the artists. My mother-in-law is in charge of the flowers here, and their arrangements.”

“It’s very pleasant. My mother doesn’t much go for flowers; she thinks they’re a waste of money. But then,” she said, giving  a little unconcerned shrug, “my parents’ house does not have a courtyard quite so fine as this. Is this one of my father’s silks?” Her hand rose to inspect the trim on Clarice’s dress, her gaze professional. “It looks very well on you. I wish more women wore deep colors like this, this sudden fashion to outfit ourselves like peacocks does not sit well on some women.”

Again she was caught out! “I…it may be, madonna. I’m not sure. I brought some dresses with me from Rome, but…they were not deemed suitable for the wife of a Medici.” Nothing except my family was suitable, it seems.

Bartolomea dropped her hand, her smile apologetic, Clarice looking for something, anything, that might save her from herself and her abominable lack of conversation. A passing maid saved her from the silence. “Maddalena!” Clarice stood up, the better to channel the imperiousness of her mother-in-law. “Wine, please, for Madonna de Bonsi and myself.”

“Of course, madonna,” the servant said, curtsying and going on her way, coming back in short order with the wine, which she poured and passed to the two women.

Clarice was so busy watching the maidservant that she hardly noticed her guest, until she sat back down and saw Bartolomea was smiling again, one of those maddening, superior smiles that indicates the wearer is about to say something out of turn. Clarice was learning to dread those smiles  - for often as not, the woman who bore them said nothing to her and chose instead to whisper to their friends about some mistake she’d made. “Will you allow me to make an observation, Madonna Medici?” Bartolomea asked, hands light on her wine cup. “I do not know what it is like to be a woman in Rome, but here in Florence, we say that a woman is happiest when she bakes her own bread.”

“I’m…afraid don’t understand you.”

“We Florentines do not go in for shy, retiring women, as a general rule. It’s against our civic character. Those of us who come from merchant families are taught from the cradle to fix our terms very carefully, because we know that if we don’t, then others will set terms for us. What to say, what to do - what to wear. I think you are not baking your own bread at the moment, but rather eating someone else’s. And it is very much not to your taste.”

Clarice looked down at her dress - the dress her mother-in-law had picked out for her, amid the flowers she was not allowed to alter, in the courtyard her husband would not change, tears pricking at her eyes that this total stranger should say it so easily. God in heaven, yes!  "Am I so obvious?“ she asked, blotting at her eyes. I am a married woman and I should have charge of my own house and instead I have charge of nothing and I am completely alone!

The other woman reached forward, clasped her hand. “Only to someone who knows what that’s like. My brother’s wife is much the same - and you’ve already met my mother.”

“But how do you manage?” Clarice begged. Please, someone tell me what to do, for nothing my mother ever told me prepared me for this.

“Only you can know what will make you happy. I’m unlikely to marry, save for my father’s business prospects - I cannot change that. So I have a charity, for orphaned girls, so that they can learn to read and write and go into service. I pay the rent on the building, the teachers’ salaries, and I keep investments so that I can continue to do so. It gives me purpose, just as my own children would, it looks well on my family, to be associated with such an endeavor - and it drives my mother mad,” she added with a satisfied smile. “My own terms.”

Clarice sniffled, blotting her eyes again. “Marriage was not what I thought I wanted from life. I thought I was to go into holy orders.”

“And you …regret it now?”

“I regret not being useful,” Clarice said bitterly. “In Rome I had my work in the hospital, my prayers, my patients. Here I have…nothing.”

Bartolomea laughed. “And we have no beggars and hungry mouths here in Florence? We shall find you a hospital, madonna, if that is what brings you joy.”

“It would not be seemly, for the wife of -”

“Seemly? For the wife of one of the city’s most prominent citizens to involve herself in charity work? I can think of nothing more seemly! It is a level of Christian practice to which we should all aspire. Perhaps you are not bathing lepers yourself, but there are many ways to care for the sick. Besides, what use is being married to one of the wealthiest families in the city if you cannot spend their money?”

The suggestion, and the smile of joyful conspiracy that went with it, made Clarice smile, despite herself - the first time she’d remembered smiling in quite a while. “Are you usually this forthright on first acquaintances, Madonna de Bonsi?”

“My mother says it is another one of my failings,” she said, almost proud. “You looked very helpless, standing behind Lucretzia in the hall and letting my mother look you over like a prize pig. It is my joy in life to help others - and I’ve decided I want to help you.”

“Bartolomea!” The meeting between the two older women was obviously at an end.  "We are leaving.“

Bartolomea rolled her eyes. "Coming, Mother.” She turned back to Clarice with a knowledgeable smile, the look of someone who is on the verge of sharing a freindly secret. “I pray you will think on it, Madonna Medici. Perhaps when I call again I can be of some assistance?”

Clarice was so stunned she hardly realized that the last words out of her guest’s mouth had, in fact, been a question - and a polite request to be invited back. “Of course, Madonna,” she said, rising from her chair and nodding.

“And we can talk more about new silks - of your own choosing,” Bartolomea added with another conspiratorial smile. And, with another squeeze of her hand, she was gone, back to the front hall.  

“I don’t like that girl,” Lucretzia was saying in the outer hall. “Your daughters should take a lesson from her, Clarice - a woman her age ought to be married, not chasing a pack of orphans in the Campo.”

“I liked her,” Clarice said, faintly smiling. “She sets her own terms.” Her mother-in-law stared a moment, but said nothing, returning to whatever domestic task was demanding her attention.

…That’s the first time I’ve disagreed with her aloud.

And, beaming with pride, she went back upstairs to return to mending Lorenzo’s shirt - and, just perhaps, to change her dress.