#and they start playing around and they both make a conscious effort to always talk to the other so they're distracted

[kqluckity]

Imagine q!Luzu helping qq getting over his fear of water from being trapped by the federation and q helping Luzu with the repercussions of having a rouge ai in his head ;-;

oh man... oh MAN. now i will think about this forever

[emmcfrxst]

omg old man!logan with mom!reader and laura has me in TEARSSSSS i love them so much

he would never admit it because he's too proud but does get a little jealous when all your attention is on laura. it's nothing serious obv (who tf would be jealous of their child😭) but he is left with with a heightened sense of need for you and your touch. so when night time finally comes around, he's super happy to get you all to himself and just shower you with the love that laura showered you with during the day <33

(the concept of reader being both logan's and laura's favorite person to ever exist is so sweet aaahhhhh)

i’ve said this before i believe but something about laura really brings out logan’s inner child; he’s a lot more mischievous when she’s around, allowing himself to act like a kid and have fun— he’s provoking her on purpose (all in good fun, obviously! he wouldn’t say anything that could actually hurt her feelings, at least not once he’s gotten used to interacting with a child again, he’s accidentally hurt her feelings before by being a little too brash, but that was before he decided to make conscious efforts to let her in) and bickering with her any chance he gets, a grin on his face when she takes the bait and argues back (he’s not gonna lie, he’s pretty proud of just how vivacious she is, she does remind him of himself but he won’t admit that out loud) because he’s really never felt quite as youthful when he’s around her. they’re quite entertaining to watch honestly, because he absolutely will stick his tongue out back at her if she does it, and he will chase her around the house in playful anger if she insults him. he also likes to ruffle her hair when walking past her because she always lets out the most offended little yell, jumping on his back in retaliation and he walks around the house with her hanging off of him like a koala, despite the ache/discomfort the added weight brings him. he’s also the one who started using the nickname “monkey” for her, partly due to her most prized possession: a plushie you gave her (which i talked about here if you wanna read <3) and partly because she loves to climb pretty much everything she sees; including trees, doorframes, random furniture, fences and of course her daddy. anyways yes, since she brings out the youthful side of him he does allow himself to fight her for your attention, which quickly turns into a competition (honestly pretty much anything turns into a competition when it comes to these two, it’s kind of their love language) and logan isn’t afraid to play dirty despite the fact that laura is like 11— he will use his strength to untangle her from you, playfully throwing her on the couch away from you and grinning at her while wrapping his own arms around you, mouthing “my turn now” to her, making her look at him with the most offended expression ever seen on a human being. there’s never a boring moment with them, and you’re constantly showered in both attention and affection <3

[moonstruckme]

hi! could i get james potter fluff where they’re both just taking a stroll or they’re ice skating and reader suddenly slips and lands on their knee and gets a huge scab on their knee. reader plays it off saying she’s fine but she doesn’t notice that her knee is slowly bleeding and james freaks out? 😭

aka me, I SLIPPED ON ICE AND MY KNEE STARTED BLEEDING TODAY

Ahh sorry babe! Here's some Jamie to heal you <3 (I have no idea how this got so long sorry)

cw: mentions of blood

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

“Whoa, you okay?” James skids to a stop beside you, ice shavings flying. 

You grin at him, embarrassed. “Yeah, I’m good.” You ignore the burning in your knee, wobbling back to your feet. James sets a tentative hand under your forearm to steady you. “Sorry.” 

He makes a face. You know him well enough by now to know it means he doesn’t want you to apologize, but he knows you well enough to know that saying it is pointless. The two of you set off again. You’ve got one arm in James’ hold and the other extended cautiously to the side for balance, but James Good-At-Everything Potter doesn’t even need to look in front of him as he skates. He glides along smoothly, maneuvering you both around kids with little plastic helpers and other inexperienced skaters like yourself with little effort. If he weren’t so himself, it’d be pretty irksome. 

“What were we talking about?” you ask, laughing awkwardly. 

“You were telling me about the cat outside your work,” James reminds you. 

“Oh, yeah.” You shake your head at yourself a little, looking down at your skates just like James had warned you not to. They start to slip out from under you, but he holds you up until your right yourself. “Sorry, I’ve been going on about that forever.” 

“No, it’s cute,” he says. “Don’t hold out on me, what happened to her? Did she get a name?” 

“She did.” You glance at him, and he’s smiling encouragingly. James is always smiling at you. It’s incentive to keep talking. 

You tell him more about the cat, and then he tells you about the puppy his parents adopted when he moved out, which he felt rather cheated about because he’d always wanted one when he lived at home. You tell him about the slew of fish you’d had as a child, which sparks a conversation about odd pets, which is how you learn about his friend’s pet toad. James seems to have a lot of friends. You’re starting to keep track of a few names, but sometimes they swirl together and you can’t remember who’s who. He doesn’t hold it against you. 

You’ve only been on a few dates with James, but this is typically how they go. You show up all self-conscious and tense, and then he gives you one of his easy smiles and suddenly it’s like you’ve no reason to be nervous at all. James loves to talk, and you, oddly, seem to love talking with him as well. You enjoy the talking a lot more than the skating, and when your time slot on the rink is up you have to feign a bit more disappointment than you feel. As far as you’re concerned, the main event is going to be the hot chocolate you plan to have after this. 

“Let me get that,” James says when he’s undone the laces to both his skates and you’re still struggling with your first one. He kneels in front of you, deft fingers easing apart the knot and then whipping the laces skillfully out of each of their little hooks. He starts to pull the skate off your foot, but pauses when his eyes flit up, catching on your knee. 

He hisses through his teeth. “Sweetheart, what happened here?” 

“Hm?” You bend over so your head is closer to his, trying to see what he’s talking about. Your leggings are wet through with blood, a giant ugly splotch around your knee. “Oh,” you say quietly. 

“Oh,” James agrees, teasing tone at odds with the uncharacteristic frown pinching his features. “That looks rough. Do you think it happened when you fell?” 

“Which time?” you joke.

His laugh is half-hearted. A diligent effort. He starts pulling up the one side of your leggings, working them up your calf. He hisses again, sympathy mingled with concern, when the bloody mess of your knee is unveiled. It’s almost impossible to tell where the cut is with the skin around it stained so thoroughly. You bite your lip to keep from making a sound as James peels the fabric of your legging away carefully, but when his thumb presses on the skin next to the wound you wince. 

He inhales softly, seemingly as startled as you are, and gives you an remorseful look. “Sorry, lovely. How badly does it hurt?” 

“Not bad,” you fib, though exposed to the cold air, the burning is starting to get to you. 

James looks like he knows, mouth pulling to the side compassionately. His eyebrows come down behind his glasses as he tries to get a look at the wound. You try to ignore the tingling that results from him gripping the back of your knee the way he is. Tenderly, with more care than you’re used to. 

“Alright.” He gives the side of your calf a little pat, rising to his feet. “I’m going to go find someone who works here.” 

“Oh, James,” you protest as he walks away, “it’s really not that bad. I’ll take care of it at home!” 

“Stay put!” he calls over his shoulder. 

As if you’d ever leave without him. 

You try not to fidget while he’s gone, feeling awkward and pathetic sitting all bloody and alone while other groups taking off their skates chat around you. James returns a short time later with a sullen-looking employee in tow. You give them a tight smile, and James returns it with twice the gusto, talking up the teen worker who looks like they’d rather be anywhere else. He’ll come around. You doubt anyone can resist the James Potter charm. 

“Such excellent service they have here,” James says lightly, sitting beside you on the metal bench. He sets a casual hand on your knee, putting a stop to the bouncing you didn’t realize you’d started. “I asked for a first aid kit and they gave me a whole Martin.” 

Martin declines to comment. He unpackages a tiny antiseptic wipe, going after your bloody knee with unfeeling determination. 

You bite down on your lip, and James’ dark brows lower, his eyes flickering between you and Martin indecisively. You give him a small smile that you hope says Please don’t say anything to this poor kid on my behalf, even if I potentially start crying. James seems to get the general idea, returning your smile and intertwining his fingers with yours consolingly. 

One benefit of Martin’s vicious treatment is that it’s over quickly. Before long, he’s slapping a plaster on your cut and telling you both to let someone (not him, presumably) know if you need anything else. A man of few words to the last. 

James takes his place before you can move, kneeling in front of you again. 

“Is that really it?” he asks disbelievingly, delicately stroking the edge of the small plaster with his thumb. 

“I told you it wasn’t bad,” you tease softly. 

He blows out a big breath, blinking up at you. “I thought for sure it was going to need stitches. How do you bleed so much? You scared the shit out of me, sweetheart.” 

“Sorry.” 

The look he shoots you is about as stern as he ever gets, disapproval buried beneath a heap of fondness. “Don’t,” he says. 

You fail to hide a smile, and he fails to hide his reciprocation, dropping his chin back towards your knee. It really looks now like you’ve both been quite dramatic, the blood all cleaned up and a tiny plaster covering what turned out to be only a small scrape. From the feel of it you know it’ll be horribly bruised in the morning, but it really was never anything too dire.

“Do you think you can straighten it?” 

“No,” you deadpan. “I think I’ll probably need crutches, actually.” 

James looks up, startled and delighted by your joking. “Yeah?” There’s a breathless sort of laughter in his tone. “What do you think, ten days’ bed rest?” 

“Oh, at least.” 

“Mm, and I suppose someone will have to bring you all your meals as well. Feed you chocolates and pastries and all that, keep you company, serenade you from time to time.” 

Your lips twitch. You can feel your face warming faintly. “Seems best.” 

James nods, aiming for serious but missing by a mile with that ever-present curve in his lips. “Well, I guess we’d better get you home, then,” he says, worming his arm under your knees. 

You don’t realize what he’s up to until the other one wraps securely around your back, and by then it’s too late. 

“James!” you gasp as he hoists you up, grabbing onto his shoulders. “Put me down.” 

“Don’t worry sweetheart, we’ll still stop for hot chocolate. I’d never deprive you of that.”

[nickeverdeen]

hey, i was wondering if you could write about if five (from the umbrella academy) saw his s/o's sh scars for the first time. no fresh cuts and the s/o is much more stable now but not totally.

Cuts as sharp as love | Five Hargreeves x gn!reader

Warnings: Self-harm

PS: I love you and if this happened to anyone here, I’m truly sorry and hope things are better now. My DMs are open 24/7 if you need to talk about really anything

—————

The sun hung high in the sky, its rays mercilessly casting down waves of heat that seemed to shimmer off the pavement. The air was thick and humid, making even the simplest of movements feel like a herculean effort. You and Five had retreated to the shaded sanctuary of the Umbrella Academy’s garden, seeking refuge from the blistering heat.

“Why is it so damned hot?” Five grumbled, pulling at the collar of his shirt. Despite his attempts to maintain his usual stoic demeanor, the heat was proving to be quite the adversary.

You chuckled softly, wiping a bead of sweat from your brow. “It’s summer, Five. That’s kind of how it works.”

He shot you a playful glare. “Very funny. Remind me to never trust you as my meteorologist.”

You laughed again, a sound that Five found strangely comforting. It was a rare moment of levity in their otherwise tumultuous lives.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you can’t handle a little heat,” you teased, while a smirk played on your lips.

Five smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, I can handle plenty. Just wait until winter. Then we’ll see who’s complaining.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “Deal.”

As the afternoon wore on, the oppressive heat showed no signs of relenting. You, in an attempt to cool off, decided to shed your outer layers, rolling up your sleeves without a second thought. It was an innocent enough action, one born out of sheer necessity rather than any conscious decision.

But as the fabric bunched up around your elbows, the scars were laid bare for the world to see. You crisscrossed your arms like a grotesque roadmap of pain and suffering, each mark telling a story of battles fought in the darkest corners of your mind.

Five’s eyes were immediately drawn to the scars. His usually sharp, calculating gaze softened as he took in the sight before him. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen them, but he never pryed hoping he was mistaken, but each glimpse was a painful reminder of the struggles you had endured.

You followed his gaze, your eyes widening in realization. Panic set in, your heart racing as you hastily tried to roll your sleeves back down.

“Five, I—” you started, your voice quiet.

But he was already at your side, his hands gently covering yours. “It’s okay,” he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. “You don’t have to hide them from me.”

You looked up at him growing a tad bit unsure what to do. “I forgot,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to…”

He shook his head, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “You don’t need to explain. I’m here. I’m always here.”

You both sat in silence for a few moments, the weight of the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Five’s face had one question only written all over his features. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you knew was going to be a difficult conversation.

“Five, I… I’m not that person,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m more stable now… well not totally, but much better”

Five’s expression softened even further, his eyes filled with a mixture of empathy and understanding. “I’m glad,” he said gently. “You don’t need to hide them.”

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his for any sign of doubt or judgment. But all you found was unwavering support and love.

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to carry my burdens,” you continued, your voice breaking a bit. “You’ve been through so much already. You don’t need to deal with my issues too.”

Five shook his head, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “We’re in this together,” he said firmly. “Your burdens are my burdens. Your struggles are my struggles. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He pulls you into a hug “Thank you,” you whispered. “For everything.”

Five pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Always,” he murmured. “I’ll always be here for you.”

[idreamtofmanderleyagain]

Let's talk about The Emperor and Stelmaine for a minute.

So, when it comes to the latest Emperor hate, the assertion that "The Emperor raped Stelmaine" or that what happened to her was otherwise "like rape," has been going around, presumably because of a TikTok video that got popular.

So let me start off by saying I get it. It's pretty infuriating, but I can at least understand the logic. I get why something in this evokes that a little for some people; She loses her agency completely, forced to work with him. In his rage at the player's dehumanizing behavior after he makes a sexual advance, he shows them this story, and says the phrase "you will take me to the brain because you have no other choice." He is speaking specifically about the forcing player's aid in the goal of destroying the Elderbrain, but the statement does come as a response to a (dehumanizing) rejection, and the brain is the main source of sexual connection for him.

So like, if I were to erase all other contexts, I can see why some people react to it like that.

Uhhhh, however....

People who make this argument always like to erase how directly interconnected the Emperor's survival is in every choice he makes, from Ansur to Stelmaine to You.

We don't know what exactly happened with Stelmaine, but if they ever developed a friendship, and she didn't know he was a mindflayer, and discovered it later, he would have had no choice but to enthrall her. If it started from the beginning, again we should consider that on his own, he has no resources or infrastructure to keep himself safe, and therefore would have targeted a politician to put his dwelling place under his own power.

But I digress. There are way too many factors in play that we know nothing about when it comes to Stelmaine. What we do know is that the Emperor is often reactive when it comes to the others in his life. He explicitly says that he fears your rejection and betrayal, and that is tied up directly in his own survival. We saw this happen with Ansur. And with both Ansur and Stelmaine, the Emperor contextualizes your relationship through both of those experiences. He is constantly waiting for you to call him a freakish monster and refuse to even converse with him, which would result in his survival being threatened.

His sexual advance itself is arguably not about sex at all, but about ensuring you develop an emotional entanglement with him so that, you guessed it, you would get invested in his survival. Immediately afterwards he gets back to talking about the goal.

It's important to note that you are free to reject this advance kindly and he takes no issue, he doesn't even pout. He only starts threatening you when you basically just call him a lying manipulative freak. To him, that belief is threatening, even if the accusations of manipulation are accurate, because it means you are uninvested in his survival and could turn on him at any point.

At this point, he notes that his methods of manipulation have improved since enthralling Stelmaine, and you should be grateful for this. An asshole statement to be sure. However, this direct correlation he makes suggests that the othering he is experiencing from the player lines up with the experience he had with Stelmaine.

It also makes it abundantly clear that after Stelmaine, he came to the conclusion on his own that he never wanted to do it again. He feels a grief and trauma over Stelmaine that he hints at, and uses to gain your sympathy. But it is THIS scene that fully reveals why he feels that grief. If he was the rapey, soulless monster people make him out to be, he would feel no grief over her, and most notably, would never have bothered putting so much time, strain, and effort into gaining the player's agreement and consent literally every step of the way. He, a mindflayer, makes a conscious choice every time you interact, to gain your support the hard way. To basically put his own survival in your hands.

For one of his kind, with the odds stacked against him no less, to choose verbal/emotional manipulation over any other tool in his arsenal, is much more notable than I think a lot of people click into. He's making a concerted, active choice against enthrallment.

Even when you push him to the point where he threatens it, he still never enthralls you. He gives himself up to the Elderbrain, rather than enthrall you. The threat was always empty.

That suggests to me that the thing that traumatized him about Stelmaine was the enthrallment.

For the Emperor - and I would like to repeat that we are talking about a mindflayer and not a irl human being - manipulation is gaining consent. In his perspective, gaining consent is what he is going through so much effort to do.

[daipeanutsaiban]

Hello! Um I know it's been a few months since you said people could ask you more questions on your tgaa thoughts, but I was hoping to ask about your baskerzieks and genshinxwife ones. Like how they met, or what their last in person convos went like before each couple separated/died, etc, bc I really adore your Lady B & Mrs. Asougi designs! They deserved first names 😭

Also I'd love to hear your genklint/ville thoughts too if you care to share those!

ALSO I wanted to say you're 100% correct that if Kazuma & Klint ever actually met good ending au Kazuma would think he's the most annoying person alive. It's funny if genklint is platonic or romantic too, it's like Herlock Sholmes is right there and instead Kazuma thinks his dad's bf (best friend OR boyfriend lol) is significantly worse. Something something hating your parallel

Anyway no pressure, and sorry if you aren't looking to answer more questions at this time!

HI i love to yap and to yap about dgs especially so you're good haha <3 i'm the kind of person who needs to be asked tbh bc i tend to be self conscious/doubt myself so questions are always super appreciated 🥹💗 this post got LONG so i'm going to put it under a break to spare anyone who's just here for art or trying to look at memes during their lunch break

TL;DR: klint and primrose were engaged as kids but it was broken off upon his parents' death, it was renewed when he earned prestige as a prosecutor; their last conversation was when primrose forced him to confess his crimes to her but she'd started having doubts months ago; in my favorite hc, gkv never pursued one another beyond dropping hints here and there but because i am bisexual i also want them to have fun; genshin and yukari met by chance as teens and genshin had to convince his father to let them marry each other after finding out she was pregnant; he could never say his last words to her because writing about the professor's identity could've endangered her and kazuma.

first of all thank you so much, it makes me so happy when people enjoy my designs and characterizations for lady baskerville and mrs asougi!! for clarity, i'll be calling them by the names i gave them in this post, primrose and yukari respectively.

klint and primrose's engagement was decided by their parents and they met as children- i think they were probably feeling awkward around each other for a while since children don't really care about such things (right..?) and primrose actually chose to spend her time reading when her father would take her to visit, and she might've even been more interested in talking/playing with barok because there wouldn't be the daunting idea of an engagement looming on the horizon lol. eventually, she and klint do grow closer and come to consider each other friends thanks to him putting in a lot of effort to make her feel welcome and also have more fun (she finds him boring- i characterize klint as having been a very serious and dutiful child, though he does play with and dote on his brother).

when the van zieks parents die in my hc, losing their life in a fire specifically, primrose's father chooses to cancel their engagement because he doubts klint can suitably provide for his daughter- a cruel but logical decision as klint is just fourteen years old with no backing or achievements. as an aside, the fire is declared to be an unfortunate accident but klint silently believes it was premeditated- this incident contributes to him considering prosecution as a career. out of care for his brother, he never brings up this idea to barok.

still, primrose is a very clever child who's acutely aware that her father's doting is a form of control (such as making her wear beautiful, white clothes to easily find out if she's been sneaking out, which i think i talked about before), and she insists on meeting klint either at his estate or in the city while they both (and occasionally barok) wear disguises/common clothes. the latter option allows them to meet people outside of their social caste, and to develop a sympathy for them from an early age which also contributes to klint's growing bitterness towards other nobles. throughout his struggle to be taken seriously by these men in spite of his age, primrose continuously encourages him and even spies on her father's meetings with other gentlemen to then report to him, and this continues in their adult life with her reporting rumors and "gossip" from other ladies about their own husbands (with perhaps dire consequences in the long run, haha...)

primrose has ambitions of her own, though, many of which are philanthropic in nature and stem from guilt at being born in a wealthy household to a father who does not care about people other than his own. they are difficult to achieve as an unmarried woman (or even as a woman in general), as her father would never greenlight her ideas, and as such she becomes enraged with klint when he allows the engagement to be dispelled due to believing she would ultimately "be happier with someone else" when it would effectively condemn any ounce of freedom she could have. from primrose's perspective, klint is the only candidate for marriage because he actually respects her and understands her as a person.

their engagement was eventually reinstated following klint's multiple achievements, chiefly when he made a name for himself as an extremely prolific prosecutor and primrose's father couldn't really object to it (ha) anymore. when i researched, i learned that men in the victorian era would commonly get married in their thirties once their careers were established, and i especially like that for this couple because it means that genshin could've attended their wedding. (it's also amusing to picture klint pitching him as the best man while primrose is firmly in barok's camp and they have a silly spat about that, haha. but ngl i prefer genshin as their best man because it was tradition that the best man would drive the married couple to their month long honeymoon directly after the ceremony so. he could stay behind a little while if you catch my meaning. teehee)

on the topic of genklintville, my ultimate preference/personal "canon" is that they never outright acted upon their romantic or sexual interests in one another although the tension was clearly there. but like any bisexual on the internet, i like to indulge a little bit, as shown in my previous paragraph hehe. i like to imagine a kind of kinship between genshin and primrose as they are interested in similar literature and share a similar sense of humor as well (chiefly teasing klint- in a deadpan manner for genshin). klint and primrose tend to dote on genshin in a way they think is discreet, because they can sense his loneliness at being apart from his family even though he generally doesn't voice it, but as we all know genshin isn't a fool and it leaves him quite flustered haha. genshin also relates to klint in the way that they are both heirs to something "greater than them" (the asogi clan/the van zieks heritage) and sometimes yearn to break away from it which might contribute to why genshin left for london if the first place. i'd like to add that if i draw genklint without primrose present, it's taking place with her knowledge and consent, though them being pushed to cheating due to increasing stress or suchlike circumstances is an interesting angle- it's just not something i see myself making at present. though now saying that has made me think about the ways it could be fun to explore the way klint's lying and gaslighting keeps piling up, so what's one more lie? so i'd be interested in reading a story that would attest to his guilt from committing the act and his gaslighting towards not only his wife but also to himself, hmm. the best way that i can put it is that if i'm to explore gk without the v, she must be a relevant character because i'm not about to discard a canon female love interest to focus solely on the yaoi lmao.

now for genshin and yukari, or genyu for short as i like to call it in my head (lol)... there's a lot to cover here too 😵‍💫 some of this, particularly the stuff concerning ayame, is still undecided on but i thought the more context the better!

to understand their dynamic, it feels important to state/repeat my headcanons about the asogi clan aka genshin's immediate family beyond her and kazuma, which were mentioned here. but to summarize, they are very patriarchal, strict, and the type to suppress their emotions. genshin is his father's illegitimate child, and his real mother is... hm, well, she won't ever appear in my art because it's suitable for her character, but she's a high ranking courtesan, aka "oiran", and therefore pregnancy/being a mother could bring shame to her and likely ruin her livelihood, because they are meant to project the image of being unattainable both in appearance.. and price. her disappearing for some months to a year wouldn't be all that suspicious as few men can even afford to meet her.

because the oiran brings the House where she works good money, they help her cover up her pregnancy and her son's existence by sending him to live with his father as soon as possible. once, genshin tries to visit his mother, but he is turned away. in short, his first experience was to be abandoned by someone who was supposed to love him. i think this backstory also serves to give reason to his name (written with the kanji 'shadow' and 'truth') because he is a truth meant to be hidden by the government. if you think about his father giving him that name, it becomes quite sad and implies shame for bringing his son into the world. i think it would also justify the personality i like for him, which is more reserved and serious than how i portray the rest of the visiting trio (with a boisterous but ambitious seishiro and a downtrodden but shy and earnest yuujin), and with a greater disposition for being suspicious... which is naturally a good thing for a detective.

genshin's father's wife lost her life to an illness some years prior to genshin integrating into the asogi clan, which is why he sought comfort from the oiran. to avoid unsavory rumors and to preserve both women's reputation, syoma (genshin's father) forbids his son from venturing outside of the house - paralleling primrose's childhood, which they could bond over later in life - until he turns a certain age. he's the dark sheep of the clan, to make it short. it's by sneaking out as a child that he meets seishiro, and then yukari who is accompanying ayame.

as an aside, i want to add that while syoma holds misogynistic beliefs, he still feels a sense of responsibility so he does eventually pay off the oiran's debt in the end- not that she's particularly grateful since he led her on and made her promise not to abort his child without ever planning to marry her. not a great guy, but def a fun character to write. those are things genshin deduces in his teenage years, and he swears to never become like his father.

as for yukari, her family history is also nebulous, and i don't know if i even want to establish her circumstances before meeting ayame and genshin because i like the meta irony of those details remaining unknown to us just as they were unknown to those around her outside of how she is tied to other people. ayame's friend, genshin's wife, kazuma's mother- never her own person. she reaches a breaking point during genshin's absence, but i won't go into detail about that for now because it's part of a long project of mine. what i can say about her is that she does housework for ayame's family in exchange for room and board, but she's not categorized as a servant because ayame cherishes her, a privilege that makes her feel awkward at times.

genshin fell for her due to her frank and joyful approach to life which was so different from the outlook he was raised on, and she piqued his curiosity with her unusual and often "silly", but free, behavior. he has the utmost respect for her, which is why as much as i like gkv and think it could work in a modern au with yukari's inclusion/approval + rapid methods of communication, i think realistically genshin wouldn't have the heart to start anything with someone else when she is waiting for his every letter so far away. he wouldn't be able to read the expression on her face, and she could easily lie about being okay with it.

in this wikipedia article about marriage in japan in the edo period (1600-1868), it reads: "Members of the household were expected to subordinate all their own interests to that of the [household], with respect for an ideal of filial piety and social hierarchy. [...] Marriages were duly arranged by the head of the household, who represented it publicly and was legally responsible for its members, and any preference by either principal in a marital arrangement was considered improper."

you might've guessed where i'm going with this, but genshin's father had already chosen a wife for him, and that person was ayame, who is from a 'good' family. obviously that marriage didn't go through with yukari becoming pregnant at 18 or 19 (!!), and syoma capitulated to genshin's request that he be given permission to marry his girlfriend which only further strained his relationship with his father further. as for ayame, she was fortunate that the man she was interested in was studying medicine, and therefore struggled less for her family to accept yuujin as her husband. but for yukari, although she knows genshin doesn't love ayame, there's always that nagging feeling that she was the "wrong" choice. after all, she has to witness the interactions between genshin and his family every day, and her presence is often the source of tension. her only rock after ayame's death and genshin's departure is her son, who starts rejecting spending time with her as he grows older because, well, he's a teenager (something i want to expand on in that project i mentioned).

in yukari's case, she was never able to read her husband's last words as even writing about the professor's identity could endanger hers and kazuma's lives, but perhaps genshin had promised he would briefly return at the half-way point of his stay overseas and then ended up having to break that promise by choosing to investigate the professor killings before eventually losing his life. yukari's feelings of helplessness were confirmed as the truth in her eyes then.

as for primrose and klint's last conversation, it's been sitting in my wips for a while LOL. i def think she had her suspicions, and when she finally gathered her courage to confront him, he broke down and told her the truth. i've revised this comic and especially its dialogue so many times that i don't even know if i like it anymore, please pray for me 😅

It's funny if genklint is platonic or romantic too, it's like Herlock Sholmes is right there and instead Kazuma thinks his dad's bf (best friend OR boyfriend lol) is significantly worse.

this made me laugh LMAO honestly kazuma would be so petty about it meanwhile i feel like he'd get along super well with the man's own wife 😂 i also think that as an adult kazuma would admire his father less and even be a bit of a tsundere lol, but yeah in a No One Dies/Good Ending AU(tm) he'd probably resent genshin a little for leaving him and his mother, whose struggles he witnessed firsthand for ten years. hell, maybe he does resent him in the current circumstances even if it's not the dominant emotion when it comes to his father, it of course being grief... still. lord van zieks get your paws off my dad!! 🙄💢 also if genshin starts reciprocating the attention kazuma might start killing LOL

...this answer is now well over 2000 words and i still feel like i'm leaving things out i feel CRAZY omg. autism diagnosis unnecessary atp lmfao.

also just found this in my #yukanotes i should've just copy pasted all this augh. i love yukari very much she is extremely dear to me. 😊💗

thanks again for your questions I'M SORRY IT'S SO LONG....... i DO love to yap 🥹🥹💗

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I confronted my boyfriend about not feeling praised enough? Over dumb D&D shit?

Background - I (20s F) live with my boyfriend (30s M) and things are usually great. He's always been supportive, emotionally intelligent and caring and we've had no major problems. We met via D&D several years ago so it's pretty important to both of us, and I'm a DM. Before we met, he was involved in a years-long campaign with some friends and is generally more experienced in D&D than me (I've been DMing around 5 years, he's probably closer to 10).

The current campaign that I'm running is something I'm really proud of. It's a mid-length campaign and I made the story myself (I typically plan mine to be 6-8ish months to avoid things fizzling out) and I've tried really hard to step up my writing and story planning for this one.

I've put in a LOT of extra time and effort and have been holding myself to a much higher standard than I usually do. As a DM I get self-conscious over how much time people are spending with me each week, and I want to make sure it's REALLY worthwhile. And because my boyfriend is more experienced in D&D than me, I've been looking to him for feedback and/or praise, as it would mean a lot to me coming from him.

And I've been getting close to nothing. At the end of each session he immediately falls asleep and doesn't talk about it at all. It makes me feel like I'm keeping him up/boring him. So I started asking him things like "hey what did you think about how I handled X" and he'll give a brief response like "yeah it was great" without explaining anything.

He didn't even give much thought into the character he's playing either - for his old campaign he created a HUGE story for his character, background, goals, etc. I know for a fact he's an incredible creative writer and could have come up with something wonderful for this. But he didn't put down anything other than basic character sheet stuff. When I asked him about it, he says he only goes deep into character when it's "long campaigns like my old one" and "too bad a long campaign like that will never happen again. That's D&D at it's best but now we're all adults, and we're too busy to ever do that, half my friends have kids, it'll never happen again and it's so sad" etc etc.

It made me feel like shit - like anything I try to do is a waste of time and pointless compared to this legendary "old campaign". Like it's barely worth staying awake for, like it's some kind of chore he has to sit through every week just because I'm his girlfriend and he's just humoring me.

The other players have been EXTREMELY enthusiastic and supportive - they send me art they make based on the campaign after every session and have contacted me privately to compliment me on certain aspects of the campaign. I want to make it clear that this is NOT something I EXPECT, but moreso I just really really love and appreciate that they do this for me, especially while my boyfriend is kind of leaving a void where I'd want this kind of praise.

Full transparency, one of my worst fears is forcing people to play along with something that I am passionate about, but bores them to tears. I never want to make a big deal over something that means a lot to ME but doesn't mean that much to someone else. So maybe I should just let this go because, at the end of the day, it's just a game? And taking it so seriously makes me an asshole and I should touch grass? I feel like potentially starting a fight over stupid nerd stuff would be pointless on my end. But at the same time, the more we play the more I feel deflated and I really hate feeling that way. I'm not sure what to do tbh.

What are these acronyms?

[nametakensff]

Come Here (S/teddie)

Decided to go off of this idea here and cooked up 3.4k of S/teve and E/ddie fucking 💕

E/ddie decides to tease S/teve with some quick inducing one hot summer day

~~~~~

Content:

M/M, established relationship, both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, E/ddie gets off to his own sneezing, manually induced sneezing, mentions of allergy sneezing, mentions of handjobs, dry humping, blowjobs, masturbation, spray, a little tiny mention of mess, sneezing on someone's face, teasing, nose rubbing, nose blowing, some tiiiny sprinkles of foot fetish stuff (my bad), they are both very sweaty lol

CW: nothing especially? E/ddie is playing with S/teve but they're both completely into it, S/teve is very handsy

~~~~~~

NSFW, minors please DNI!

“Stevieee.”

Lying on Eddie’s bed in a spread-eagle position, Steve was pulled out of the depths of his semi-conscious afternoon doze by the insistent neediness of his boyfriend’s voice.

“Yeah?” He called out, rubbing his eyes groggily with the heels of his palms.

“C’mere.”

Steve sighed. Moving was the last thing he wanted to do. They were in peak summertime heat, and the Munson trailer had very little in the way of functional air conditioning. It was fine if he was permitted to lie around like a spoilt house cat, but Eddie was energetic today. Granted, he was always energetic – but this was a lot even for him, given the veritable furnace-like atmosphere they were sweltering in.  He’d only been able to snag this little nap because Eddie had been so preoccupied with some fantasy novel or other, eyes flying over the words in the thick tome without pause. Not much interested in books and even less interested in watching somebody else read one, Steve had slunk away to sweat a man-shaped puddle onto Eddie’s sheets.

“Baaaby boy. I said come heeere.”

Steve’s eyes snapped open again, and he realised he had already started to dose off in those 10 seconds or so of sleepy contemplation. He knew Eddie wouldn’t stop, so with no small amount of effort he pulled himself to his feet and staggered in the direction of the living room.

He looked at Eddie through bleary eyes, an apathetic expression plastered to his face in sharp contrast with the beatific grin his boyfriend wore. They were both shirtless, dressed only in boxers. It was way too fucking hot for much more, and Eddie had only been persuaded to keep his underwear on after Steve insisted on it. He didn’t think Wayne would appreciate a great big ass-shaped sweat stain on his sofa, and Eddie had had to agree, if not reluctantly.

“What is it, Eds?” He mumbled, making his way over to sit on the couch next to the older man. Eddie promptly stopped him with a hand to the chest.

“Nope. No sitting for you.” Eddie smiled up at him.

Steve blinked, taking in the mischievous twinkle in those big brown eyes, and the electricity sparked by their mutual gaze woke him up the rest of the way faster than a shot of espresso. Oh. So it was like that. The boner he’d sustained in his sleep, though it had been flagging in the miserable heat, gave an interested little twitch. He smiled back as Eddie started to play absently with his chest hair, waiting to hear what he had in mind.

“How about you kneel for me, huh? Right here.”

Eddie gestured at the space on the floor between his spread legs. And sure. Steve could do that. He dropped to his knees, maintaining eye contact with his boyfriend as he did so. Eddie’s smile widened, all teeth and eyes crinkled at the corners, evidently very pleased with how easily Steve was willing to play along. He swung one arm over the back of the sofa; Steve watched the slight rippling of lean muscle as he moved.

“Great job, big boy.” Eddie praised him in a lilted, singsong like manner. Steve smirked.

“Thank you. I studied really hard for all my obedience classes.”

Eddie’s smile widened as he reached behind a couch cushion.

“Could have fooled me, Harrington. Always talking back, always sassing me.”

“Just following your example, I guess.” Steve shrugged, a little distracted from the verbal back-and-forth as he focused in on Eddie’s right hand – and more importantly, what he clutched between his forefinger and thumb. He opened his mouth to enquire, but Eddie was quick to interrupt him.

“Shhh, Steve.”

He didn’t offer any explanation, and Steve’s eyebrow raised in scepticism. It was only when Eddie began to move his right hand up to his face, and Steve recognised the small item in his grip, that he found himself genuinely wordless with anticipation. The small clothing tag had become a regular and happy edition to their sex life now that they had become comfortable enough to indulge in their mutual fetish. He had to admit there had been a little more reluctance on his part, but not for lack of desire; he often felt like his body was too tiny and mortal to contain the levels of excitement he experienced being around Eddie on a daily basis, let alone when he was sneezing for his – their – pleasure.

His sweaty cheeks were already flushed by the heat, but they darkened a little all the same. His mouth suddenly felt dry, his stomach full of butterflies. More importantly, his genitals were making themselves very well known, pitching a solid tent in his boxers in seconds. Eddie was looking at him through heavy lidded eyes with an almost predatory expression of hunger. Steve could relate; he loved when Eddie was equally as responsive and pliant for him. Still didn’t stop him from feeling just a little embarrassed at his own uncontrollable eagerness, though.

Eddie flashed him one last grin before slipping the little tag into his right nostril and beginning to tease. He was so sensitive, Steve thought with immense appreciation. The rim of the metalhead’s nostril twitched even before the tool was inserted, as if in lusty preparation for the tickle to come. As Eddie probed himself, both nostrils began to flare in earnest. He was a pro at this, and Steve knew it would only be a matter of seconds before the first sneeze would come trembling out of him. His allergies had been behaving today, likely because they had been sweltering inside with every window firmly shut. It didn’t mean they were completely under control, and they’d both ushered in the morning with gentle, rolling orgasms, courtesy of Eddie’s morning sneezes and both of their hands. By the cringing expression that was beginning to crumple his features as Steve looked up at him through unblinking eyes, his sinuses were as easily irritable as ever.

One final, shuddering inhale later and the metalhead was pitching forward with a ticklish little fit.

“Hh-HH! HDdt’TSsieww!! Ehdt’TChieww!! Hah’ESHH’ieww!! ‘TShhieww!! EhH’NGXtshh!!”

Steve couldn’t help it as he let out a closed-mouth moan, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Eddie had purposely leaned forward more than the natural propulsion of his fit, and so Steve had felt every droplet of the fine aerosol each sneeze pushed out of his boyfriend. He had tilted his head back ever so slightly, letting the sneezes mist his neck and chest. The cool kiss of spray felt even better than usual on his heated skin, and he shivered, breaking out all over in a pleasurable rush of goosebumps.

“Bless you,” He sighed. He wanted to reach out and grab for Eddie, but his boyfriend didn’t even so much as acknowledge that he had spoken to him, slipping the tool right back into his waiting nostril. Steve placed his restless hands on his own thighs, digging his fingernails into the muscular flesh just shy of breaking the skin.

Eddie tickled himself, gasping intermittently as Steve watched him in a dreamy haze, feeling like his bones had been replaced with jelly. He normally only felt this loose post-orgasm, but the combination of sweltering heat, his recent unconsciousness and the unexpectedness of this game left him loopy and soft.

Steve barely had to wait before the next round of sneezes was raining down upon him, the last few so unbearably tickly his boyfriend’s left leg jerked off the ground as they overpowered him.

“hh’NgXt’shieww! HAH’ENGXtch’tsieww!! IGSH’ieww!! Huh’IgKkShieww!! ESHhh’ieww! ‘DDZz’SHieww!!...Ahh, holy fuck, that felt good…”

Eddie sighed, looking about as wiped out as Steve felt. The younger man was happy to see that the metalhead was sporting an impressive erection, pressing up against his boxers and leaking a little through the fabric. His own cock jumped in response, and he swallowed down a sudden deluge of saliva as he drooled at the sight like a fucking dog.

“Fucking bless you, Eddie!” He moaned, fingers flexing as he continued to kneel in front of his sniffling boyfriend.

Eddie didn’t respond this time either, just rubbed at his tickly nose with the palm of his left hand, mashing it around roughly for a couple of moments. The wet clicking sounds the action produced made Steve throb again. He could feel the head of his cock dripping, now.

He jumped at the sudden feeling of Eddie’s heel pressing into his crotch, groaning in equal measures surprise and arousal. It was only for a fleeting moment, a cruel little nudge before Eddie placed his foot back on the ground, thighs spread even wider. Steve tried not to think too hard about how good the pressure had felt, about how much he would have liked to grip Eddie’s ankle and rut back against him. The older man laughed softly at the look of Steve’s wide-eyed incredulity, but then simply returned the tag to his nostril again, barely a pause as he worked on his next fit.

Steve wouldn’t take that shit sitting – or kneeling – down. He pressed forward, torso up against the couch cushions between Eddie’s legs, and gripped each pale thigh firmly before yanking Eddie slightly towards him. Eddie didn’t stop him; he continued to tease himself until his chest swelled with a definitive breath, forced out of him moments later with another attack of spraying, tickly sneezes.

“Hit’TSCH’hieww!! HdT’TScchieww!! EhD’TSchhiew!! ISHhh’ieww!! Hh-! Hah’ISCHHtt!!”

Steve’s eyes closed reflexively, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as those sneezes caught him squarely in the face. He sighed, shuddering slightly with adrenaline. This always felt so, so good. He was moments away from shamelessly fucking the couch where his cock pressed up against the worn cushion.

“Bless you, baby.”

Eddie sighed, a distinctly orgasmic and dramatic sigh, sinking back into the couch and luxuriating in the sensation of his own sneezes. Steve liked to sneeze, couldn’t really help the little fetish-fueled rush it gave him, but he wasn’t one to get off to the sensation itself. That Eddie did, admitted to him that sneezing alone, not even someone else’s, could make him cum – it just about made Steve’s head explode every time he thought about it.

“Thank you, Stevie.”

Steve peered up at his face, took in the way Eddie was watching him from under his dark eyelashes. Eddie was addressing him directly now, acknowledging his blessing. He reached for the metalhead’s cock, figuring if he still wasn’t allowed to touch, his boyfriend would be sure to let him know. And, yeah – immediately his searching hand was being redirected, placed right back on Eddie’s thigh. Steve bit the inside of his cheek and swallowed a low whine, feeling as though he was losing his mind just a little bit – even more so as Eddie reached up to tease his nostril again, barely skimming the rim before another set of irritated sneezes burst out of him.

“Hh’EHhTT’TCHieww!! IGSHhh’IEWw!! Hah’EScHh’IEww!!....IISCHhhhhh!”

That lingering, definitive sneeze was so incredibly desperate, so high pitched as it misted over Steve’s face that the resultant shiver of pleasure that rolled down his spine had his hips thrusting involuntarily against the couch. It had been a pretty wet sneeze, too – Steve reached out with a large hand to wipe away the little dribble of saliva that dampened Eddie’s bottom lip. The intimacy of it made both of them moan.

“God bless you. You’re so sneezy, honey. So hot.”

He was getting bolder, incrementally, with every time that they fucked, but Steve couldn’t help cringing just a little at the sound of those words leaving his mouth – even if the giddy rush of arousal they produced was intoxicating. He could handle the embarrassment, however, as long as his words continued to have the effect on Eddie they had evidently just done. His boyfriend almost whimpered, squirming in his seat, cock rock-hard and begging to be touched. Steve was dying. He wanted his hands on Eddie more than he’d ever wanted anyone else’s hands on him – and he always wanted hands on him.

“Mm, thank you. Tickles so much.”

Steve swore and reached for Eddie’s cock, groaning like a petulant toddler when he was once again denied with a quick slap to the wrist. His hands gripped into the flesh of his boyfriend’s thighs, flexing intermittently in restless irritation.

“Eddie,” Steve groaned, voice strained and gravelly.

Eddie said nothing, but as he made to slip the inducing tool right back into his nose, something in Steve snapped. He yanked Eddie forward with a hand behind his knee, causing the older man to yelp in surprise, before manoeuvring the captured leg between his thighs and pressing his straining cock against the older man’s shin. It wasn’t an ideal body part to hump – a soft thigh, an ass, a crotch were all infinitely preferable. Even the sole of Eddie’s foot, the arch of it, pressing up against his cock…but this would have to do. He was pushing his luck as it was.

He started to buck his hips, wishing he was fucking his boyfriend’s ass, imagining the tight clench of muscles around him. Gripping the sweaty skin behind Eddie’s knee was making the angle a little easier, and he found a rhythm faster than he’d expected to.

“Fucking hell, Stevie!” Eddie giggled, pressing his leg up, hard, squashing Steve’s cock and balls between the limb and his own body. Steve gasped – it felt awful and wonderful all at once, and then the pressure was gone and he was pushing himself forward, chasing the contact as if possessed.

“So sensitive.”

Steve huffed at him.

“Shut up. This all your fault, Munson.” He stared up at Eddie. “Look at what you fucking do to me.”

The look that Eddie gave him as he took in the sight of him, the nakedness of his desperation, was so loaded with emotion – burning desire, fondness, awe – that Steve almost swooned with the resultant rush of blood to his already swollen cock.

“Yeah. All my fault...” Eddie muttered, sounding breathless and ruined. Steve wished their chests were pushed together so he could feel the feverish beating of Eddie’s heart, the rapid in and outs of his laboured breathing.

When Eddie raised the tool back up to his nostril, Steve nearly came on the spot. He managed to hold back, gritting his teeth and choking back a strangled ‘fuckkk!’ He wanted to time it just right, bust a nut inside his boxers right as Eddie was showering him with spray. It was going to be an intense orgasm, judging by the way his entire body was beginning to heat up, so, so hot, sweat prickling on his skin as his universe narrowed down to the throbbing in his cock and the sight of his boyfriend’s twitchy pink nostrils.

Eddie’s face crumpled, tongue pressing against his bottom lip as the sneezes built, tickling himself in earnest. His chest jumped with violent hitching breaths, a single tear of irritation beginning to roll down the side of his face. It was so painfully erotic Steve couldn’t catch his breath – the oncoming orgasm leaving him stupid and operating on animalistic impulse alone. He felt his balls drawing up in preparation, felt the coiling pressure in his belly tightening, ready to explode in a euphoric release.

Eddie gasped – a huge, desperate intake of air that sounded almost pained as he pressed the clothing tag as deep into his nostril as he could. He held it there, frozen for an intoxicating moment, the cresting tickle as monumental as Steve’s approaching orgasm. When he did sneeze, they barrelled out of him, an intense rush of both air and sound, overpowering Steve’s senses and ushering his orgasm in so abruptly he yelled with it.

“HUH-!! HHIIISSHHH’IEww!! HahDT’TScHieww!! ENGXT’TSchieww!! IGSSHh!! Hh! HuH’ISSSH’Ieww!! EhH’NGXT’Tschieww!! DDZ’Zshieww-! Heh!! Hahdt’TSSCH’IEWww!!”

Steve came throughout, twitching helplessly, his face a twisted rictus of ecstasy. The sweet, throbbing pleasure of it pulsed through him, cock spitting cum into his underwear, soaked and sticking to the skin of his boyfriend’s leg. He finished cumming in time to tip forward and press his head against Eddie’s thigh, mouth still frozen in an ‘o’ of pleasure, as Eddie sneezed one last time over the expanse of his back. He groaned as the aerosol rained gently across his spine, thoroughly sneezed on and contented in a way only his fetish could make him.

“Ohh fuckkk…” He muttered after a moment, drooling a little onto the soft, pale skin pressed up against his face. Eddie laughed breathily.

“You’re welcome.” He sniffled, the sound of it ominously thick.

Steve gingerly raised his head, feeling almost drunk in the oppressive heat of the room and the closeness of their bodies. Eddie had covered his nose and mouth with a hand, and Steve knew those last few sneezes had been productive.

“Do you need a tissue, baby? Made a mess?”

Eddie nodded, eyes smiling over the protective cradle of his hand.

“Sure.” Another thick sniffle that had Steve’s cock twitching almost painfully with a pitiful, post-orgasm spasm. “But I think you made a bigger one.”

Steve blushed, sighing and pulling himself up on shaky legs. God, that had felt good. He’d practically painted the inside of his underwear, Eddie was right about that. He smiled a goofy, sated smile at Eddie before making his way over to the bedroom. He considered his messy state for a moment, then simply shrugged before removing his underwear and wiping his cock on the clean parts of the fabric. He sighed in over sensitised pleasure; he was still hard and it felt great to stroke himself. He indulged for a few moments longer before flinging his underwear onto the pile of dirty laundry on the floor and returning to the living room, entirely naked and box of tissues in hand.

Eddie was fumbling his left hand over his crotch, pawing lazily at his straining erection as his right hand remained covering his face. Steve’s cock gave an appreciative twitch at the sight of it. He knew in that moment that he wanted his boyfriend to finish in his mouth. He proffered the box to Eddie, waiting for the older man to reach up and take it before he returned to a kneeling position between his legs. As Eddie pulled back his hand, Steve caught sight of the glistening mess underneath for just a moment, and then the metalhead was scrubbing himself clean and indulging in a long, crackling blow. It ended with an awkwardly loud honk that had the pair of them locking eyes and giggling like stupid kids.

When he was done, Eddie simply let himself melt back into the couch.

“That was fun.” He drawled, eyes closed and head tilted back. Steve’s hand crawled up the inside of his thigh. “Did you like that?”

Steve snorted.

“Did I like that? You drained me dry, dude. That felt so fucking good.”

“Yay.” Eddie offered, the corners of his mouth turning up with a smug little smile.

Steve began to pull Eddie’s underwear down, and the older man cooperated by lifting his ass off the couch.

“Not going to slap my hand away this time?” Steve half-heartedly joked, pupils blown wide at the sight of Eddie’s leaking, solid cock. He was salivating in moments, leaning forward and inhaling the scent of him deeply. The press of sweaty pubic hair against his face as he nestled his nose up against the base of his boyfriend’s cock was familiar and intoxicating. Eddie’s breath hitched in anticipation, and Steve knew his arousal was fueled partially by the promise of a blowjob, but even more so out of the suggestible proximity of his pointed nose against his genitals.

“Go to town, honey. I’m not stopping you.”

Steve smiled, kissed his way up the length of Eddie’s cock before pressing his tongue into the slit of his urethra. Eddie uttered a garbled, broken moan, hips bucking uncontrollably and cock head leaking fluid in response.

“You know,” Steve started after licking his palm and wrapping it around Eddie’s sweaty shaft. “Normal people just ask for blowjobs when they want one without the pretence of sneezing all over their boyfriend.” He took the head of Eddie’s cock into his mouth, licking it a couple of times like a melting popsicle before sucking on it, hard.

“Ohh, Stevie…..my way is so much more – ahh! More fun-!” Eddie choked out, fingers reaching out to wrap themselves in Steve’s floppy hair.

Steve couldn’t disagree in the least, replaying the sights and sounds of his boyfriend’s sneezing in his mind as he sucked him down like he was best damn thing he’d ever tasted.

[ace-and-the-rpg-horrors]

my Iori, Mio, Arata and Souma headcanons as i'm very normal about the idea of all of them being friends!!

the four of them often hang out in Weekend Garage, usually after STANDOUT and/or Gurney Flap have finished a show, where they have dinner and hot drinks, chat with Ken and play cards. Mio and Souma are particularly good at cards. Arata cheats in half the games by distracting Mio to glance at her cards which makes Iori kick him under the table

Iori and Arata being twins is everything to me. Iori is the older one by a few minutes and she is So Smug about it. she will never stop holding it over him. she calls him her "baby brother" which irritates him quite a bit. she also gets to be slightly taller than him. as a treat </3

Iori keeps her surname private from STANDOUT's fans because she doesn't want people to know she's related to Arata LMAO. some of the Vivid Street residents who are fans of her band often ask her about her resemblance to him but she always gaslights them for fun i mean denies it

the siblings steal each other's microphones all the time. and clothes. and jewellery. and hair products. and eyeliner. and desserts. it is an absolute nightmare for their parents to keep track of whose laundry, shopping and food is whose

Iori, Arata and Souma went to Kamikou, and their year group was the first one to attend the school, since it was constructed so recently. Mio went to Miyajou. Iori was definitely heaps of girls' queer awakenings when she was in highschool. extremely popular due to her style, charming personality and music

Iori was always good with Maths and the various sciences, but did poorly in subjects such as Literature and languages, because she struggled with spelling. Arata was the opposite as he couldn't deal with numbers for the life of him, but had a skill for writing. for this reason, they often swapped their homework- Iori did all of Arata's that involved calculations, and he did her essays. they only found out as adults that Iori's dyslexic and Arata has dyscalculia. currently, Iori's bandmates always help her out with proofreading lyrics

Mio's canon hobby is collecting teddy bears, so i imagine her to be very into the cute aesthetic, very much a Sanrio and Sumikko Gurashi girlie. however, she absolutely adores creepy-cute aesthetics too, so her overall favourite teddy bear brand is Gloomy Bear. Mio likes horror in general. she loves gory movies, she adores creepy RPG games, especially if there's themes of dolls and such

because she's so fond of her teddies, she's learnt how to sew so she can make them clothes and bows. Mio can also bake extremely well and brings homemade snacks when all of them hang out- especially when Souma was in the hospital. saving him from hospital food <3

Mio likes to decorate her bass with cute stickers but tries to be subtle about it because she's conscious about "clashing" with the vibe of the rest of the band. Iori is not having any of that and spoils Mio with every single sticker sheet she ever comes across. eventually, there's barely any visible wood peeking out from beneath the stickers

Souma immediately went "extrovert adopting introvert" mode when he met Mio. the two of them are best friends, and Souma is one of the only people that Mio feels very able to be open and talkative around, because he has such a welcoming and friendly air about him. she introduced him to loads of her favourite media in hopes that he'd have more fun in the hospital, so now there's several manga, anime and games they both love and chat about

Mio and Arata, though, had a rockier start when they first met, because Arata being Arata (ahem, the king of awful first impressions), was blunt and a little rude, which intimidated Mio quite a bit due to her generally anxious personality. however, he then made a bit more of an effort to befriend her as she and Souma are close, discovering that they have some things in common (such as fashion sense. they both own absurd amounts of plaid) and over time, he became pretty fond of her and often jokes that he'd replace Iori with Mio as his sister if he could

Iori loves Souma because he's not nearly as much of an "absolute bitch" as Arata. Iori and Souma like to team up to tease him sometimes, which always has him sulking about the "traitors"

Iori and Arata are relentless about making fun of each other about their relationships with Mio and Souma respectively. Arasouma got together first, and Souma was very encouraging to Mio about confessing her feelings for her bandmate. however, when the twins were alone at home, Arata would be So Fucking Annoying about Mio to Iori. Iomio got together when Mio accidentally walked in on an embarrassed Iori yelling at a smug Arata that she couldn't possibly risk creating tension in her band by expressing her want for a relationship with Mio

Iori and Mio prefer to call their relationship a QPR, as Iori is an aroallo lesbian. Mio is lesbian (and also a demigirl). Arata and Souma's relationship is romantic, Arata being bi ace and Souma being MLM/achillean

Mio and Arata decided to go to uni and end up at the same one. Mio does Art and Design, Arata does Music. Iori did not feel like doing anything more than the compulsory high school and used money for uni to buy a (dodgy and old) pick-up truck instead, which is the friend group's way of getting about. Souma also did not want to continue doing anything academic as his focus upon getting out of hospital is to finally go out, have fun and try to build up his strength for singing again

[mariatesstruther]

Okay but what about hairDresser!maria?

Sarah is growing up and starts to get more vain with herself, and tommy notices she's having a hard time with her hair. So after he picks up the girls from school for joel, tommy leads all of them to the salon and that's where they meet maria. Man just imagine maria giving sarah all the tips for her hair and trying different hair styles🥺Maria focusing on braiding sarah's hair and trying to ignore all of tommy's flirt attempts lmao. And cute little ellie asking for braids too awwwwwwwww

we LOVE hairstylist maria over here!!!! i could’ve sworn i made a hairdresser au already where tommy takes sarah to salons and maria teaches her to do her hair but i cant find it 😭😭😭

i do imagine that as sarah grows up past like 4-5 and realizes her hair is different from most people around her, she’d be less vain and more self-conscious (i really doubt you meant vain in that way so don’t worry about it, im just sensitive to language regarding black little girls and their hair). austin texas in the 1990s-2000s was only about 10% percent which isnt bad, but i know from growing up in a predominantly white area that it heavily impacted how i saw myself and my hair.

i LOVE the idea that tommy and joel would put extra effort, as much as they could, into making sure sarah’s hair is loved and taken care of. i love the idea that maybe they start taking her to the salon as soon as she’s old enough, like 3-4, to sit in a chair long enough to get herself and her hair pampered

so here’s some actual plot: maybe sarah has a regular hair stylist that she’s gone to since she was literally 2, mama shirley (HEY MAMA SHIRLEY LETS BRING U INTO ANOTHER AU). unfortunately mama shirley is getting older, her hands not as agile and quick as they used to be, and she tells the miller boys that she’s planning to retire soon. they’re both pretty anxious about it because sarah like routine and sameness, and getting her hair done is already enough of a feat for her with all her sensory issues, which mama shirley always accommodates for. luckily, mama shirley assures them she’s found a brilliant replacement that’s she’s been training for months

when sarah meets maria, it’s like the little girl is meeting an in real life princess. maria has long, long, long locs that go all the way to the back of her knees, some streaked blue and purple and pink—all sarah’s favorites. maria has gentle hands and rounded nails that feel good when they scratch at sarah’s scalp in the washbowl, just like mama shirley’s. she has a whole punch of stim toys and fun charms on her locs, necklaces, and bracelets that she lets sarah reach up and play with while she works.

she talks to joel and tommy about their life with her and how she’s doing in school and how they take care of her hair at home, making gentle suggestions here and their based on her own experiences growing up as a black girl in a predominantly white area—fuckin’ omaha, nebraska. she lets joel and tommy step in and try whatever she’s doing with sarah’s hair. tommy, bless him, is so nervous and into her that his hands are way clumsier than usual. luckily, his poor attempts just make her laugh and place her hands next his to show him how to smooth out sarah’s hair correctly, without flicking the product all over himself and his shirt

she remains sarah’s hairstylist for years, and tommy falls in love with her slowly at first, considering he only really sees her once every four weeks. eventually he starts going in for his own hair, then offers to do free repairs for the salon—then, finally, maria pulls him into the back room one day and says “ya know, miller, you don’t have to work here to spend time with me. you can just ask me out.”

“i—i can?”

“you can. you’ve taken long enough.”

“i—uh. alright. sorry to keep you waitin’, ma’am. dinner? tonight?”

“dinner sounds good :)”

gonna tag my hair babies @boilingcowboy and @clickergossip bc i feel like they’d appreciate this idk and i feel like rose may be the only person to remember my other hairstylist au 😭

[holden-norgorov]

An Apologia to BEFORE MIDNIGHT (2013)

I've just finished rewatching for the umpteenth time the spectacular work of art that is The Before Trilogy, and since I've discovered it I have always refrained myself from writing about it because of my inability to put into words the beauty and the depth behind the meaning that these three films have progressively acquired for me.

But this time I'm going to try to say something for the sake of those who believe the screenplay to have failed in portraying Jesse and Celine’s personalities and gone out of character in this third installment – which I feel particularly compelled to defend as it's, in my opinion, not only the best entry in the trilogy, but also one of the best movies ever made, significantly thanks to the way the couple's characterization brilliantly builds up on two-decades of long cinematic work and collaborative effort and climaxes with an egregious payoff. I hope that reading about how I interpret the way Before Midnight blends in perfect harmony with Before Sunrise and Before Sunset may at least partially redeem the film for those of you who were left dissatisfied or disappointed by the decrease in naive idealism and dream-like romance.

WARNING: Detailed spoilers of all three movies under the cut.

Even though I think it’s quite easy at first to find a bit jarring the evident, apparently sudden change in Jesse and Celine's dynamic – reacting with a kind of discomfort that is clearly something the screenplay wants to induce in the audience, which is not accostumed to revisit Jesse and Celine after they have spent almost a decade together and studying each other inside out – I also think it quickly becomes clear that what Before Midnight aims to do, with regards to characterization, is to take all the most irritating and unpleasant shades Jesse and Celine had always had within themselves, whose seeds were planted and indeed palpable, albeit romanticized, in Sunrise (despite both characters trying their best to keep them hidden beneath a deeply self-conscious need to foster the spark of their newfound connection and perform the attraction/seduction role-play) and aptly watered in Sunset, and throw them full-force to the viewers’ face, challenging their ability to still feel invested in the couple by appealing to the idea that even our favorite, most beloved people in the world can intimately be ugly, paradoxical, occasionally toxic as well as endearing at the same time, because that’s a hard truth about human nature and “this is real life, it’s not perfect but it’s real”.

To demonstrate that their characterization is actually coherent with everything that came before, I challenge you to think about Jesse and Celine in these terms: Sunrise makes it clear that they are both smart college graduates, fundamentally contemplative and opinionated intellectuals (or at least, proto-intellectuals) who share a hardwired desire to shape the world around them with their thoughts and ideas and an idealist outlook on the universe, time and the human condition. The trilogy explores, among other things, the way they react to the realization that the universe, time and the human condition can’t conform to their idealistic vision, but that they themselves have to find out how to conform to the universe, time and the human condition. What deeply sets Jesse and Celine apart, then, is the direction they decide to channel the resentment and deep-seated unfulfilling dread steaming from this bitter realization towards.

Jesse directs it towards himself, which turns him into a depressed writer who is never going to be satisfied no matter what happens into his life. In Sunset, the movie starts with Jesse talking about how everything is autobiographical and proceeding to announce the concept of his next book, which happens to feature a totally depressed guy whose dream is riding motorcycles trough South America, being a lover and adventurer who finds happiness “in the doing, not getting what he wants”, but who is instead “sitting at a marble table, eating lobsters with a beautiful wife and everything that he needs”. Later on, at the Parisian café, Jesse rants about being unable to be “in the moment”, about not enjoying any minute of his best-selling book tour and about how Buddhists may have a point when they talk about freeing themselves from desire – which Celine aptly identifies as a symptom of depression. And while Sunset seems to want to make you think that Jesse’s depression may stem from his unsatisfying family life, even hinting at the idea that Celine may be the cure to his condition, Midnight slaps you hard in the face and awakens you to the reality that even though Jesse did get what he wanted, he’s still more depressed than ever – in fact, it clarifies that Jesse’s depression is existential. Celine herself outwardly calls him out on it after he relates an anecdote about the twins fighting over a trampoline, when he refers to pettiness, jealousy and selfishness as “the natural human state”. He seems to quickly scrape her comment off in the moment as one of her exaggerations, but later on admits to his accuracy when he tells her, in the last scene of the movie, that he has struggled all his life connecting and being present with those he loves the most. Which brings us back to Sunrise and his confession about being an unwanted, neglected child who eventually kind of adjusted and took pride in viewing the world as “this place where I wasn’t meant to be”, or to the acknowledgement that he is sick of experiencing his life from his own point of view (“see, I’ve heard all these stories, so of course I’m sick of myself”). I truly believe, during the car ride at the beginning of Midnight, that Jesse is thinking about the same words of his father’s that he was confessing to Celine in Sunrise, when he says, talking about his own absence from his son’s life, “This is the one thing I promised myself I was never going to do, and now I look up and I’m doing it”. I really think it often goes underappreciated how tragic Jesse’s character actually is. The point of his character is that his own childhood abandonment trauma colored his conception and experience of the world, and about how that adds up to his intellectual inability to find peace and contentment in the moment, and about how both aspects flow into apparently inescapable patterns of self-repeated misery. He’s not just depressed: he’s doomed to depression. And the truth the movie points to is that, ultimately, Celine can’t change this foundational aspect of Jesse’s nature. She has, to an extent, to learn to live with it and accept it.

On the other hand, the same intellectual resentment and unfulfilling dread that Jesse directs within himself, Celine aggressively projects to the outside world. If Jesse is fundamentally depressed, Celine is fundamentally angry. Sunrise does a masterful job at carefully planting the seeds that testify how Celine is, at her core, defined by her anger, while simultaneously never allowing for that anger to truly come to the surface and take the audience out of the otherworldly romantic idealism of their night in Vienna. She talks about the unfairness of being unable to complain to nice and supporting parents; she says that everything pisses her off and proceeds to list several examples; she thinks it’s a healthy process to rebel against everything in her life right after admitting that she has been raised happily, loved and wealthy and doesn’t even know “who or what the enemy is”; quite revealingly, she tells an anecdote about a professional shrink experiencing her anger to the effect that, after a single session with her, she had to call the police in fear that Celine might actually carry out the story about killing her ex-boyfriend that she had written as a consequence of her morbid obsession with him. And maybe most importantly, the palm reader makes explicit to the audience what ends up being the central theme of Celine’s character in the trilogy: “you need to resign yourself to the awkwardness of life; only if you find peace within yourself, you’ll find true connection with others”. Sunset dares to shed quite a bit of the romantic aura that Celine was wrapped in during Sunrise where, despite all of this, she still managed to resemble a Botticelli angel, and lets her anger manifest more vividly in several moments. “The world is a mess right now!” she shouts right before a bitter political rant. She’s also deeply resentful towards Jesse who, despite her statement in Sunrise about not wanting to be “a great story” or a male fantasy, has basically decided to spectacularize their night together and sell Celine’s most intimate side to the masses. This is why Celine proceeds to lie about not remembering them having sex – she feels like Jesse has stripped her of agency and control over herself and officialized to the world a one-sided interpretation of their encounter – so she wants to reclaim ownership and hurt him at the same time (“knowing his weak points, what would hurt him, seduce him” she told him in Sunrise while talking about her habit of studying her boyfriends in order to grasp how to manipulate them). The existence of this fictionalized version of herself out in the world that she didn’t consent to, along with the death of her romantic outlook on life that prompts her notorious rant in the taxi, only makes it easier for her to allow her deep-seated anger to bubble up and start defining her. Which brings us to Midnight, where that anger is so consuming that it ends up being directed also at herself (she resents herself for failing to live up to her own expectations of both motherhood and feminism, and for letting herself be consumed by anger). She engages in a lot of borderline toxic behaviors – parental alienation (she sabotages Jesse’s ability to talk to Hank twice), false accusation and public shame (she mischaracterizes their conversation in the car at the dinner table and exposes Jesse’s private fantasy) and generic hurtful insults. Her problem with Jesse’s monopoly on how the world perceives her is as alive as ever, and she makes it a matter of relative status in the relationship. And last but not least, she also resents the world – and men – for women’s unjust impossibility to avoid having to make compromises that motherhood (or largely, the female condition) imposes on them, leading them to sacrifice leisure time or renounce to opportunities that our modern, fully technological world increasingly abounds with. In the same scene, in the hotel room, where Celine calls Jesse out for being depressed, he accuses her of seeing anger as a positive means to deal with life, and despite her refusal to concede the point in the moment, she ultimately admits to it in the last scene of the movie (“I’m an angry person and I hurt my kids, my work and everyone that I love”).

In a nutshell, we could sum up their characters as follows:

JESSE: idealized, intellectual approach to the world --> finds out about world’s imperfection --> blames himself --> existential depression.

CELINE: idealized, intellectual approach to the world --> finds out about world’s imperfection --> blames the world --> existential anger.

Particularly interesting, in this regard, is the role each of them plays in establishing the kind of path the other ends up taking. Jesse ultimately allows his depression to take over him as a consequence of Celine's decision to miss their agreed-upon second encounter six months after Sunrise, whereas Celine ultimately allows her anger to take over her as a consequence of Jesse's decision to circumvent her previously expressed wish and publish a book about the night they spent together in Vienna. In a way, they both sealed each other's existential fate in their quest for the connection they had once shared.

So, once you peel away all the layers in their characterization and identify the root core of their motivation, choices and actions, I don’t really think it’s possible to argue that they are out of character in Before Midnight. In fact, it feels like a perfect follow-up to its predecessors, designed to force the characters to confront the origin of their unhappiness and realize that they are not meant to be each other’s salvation. Just as Celine is going to have to accept Jesse’s depression as something he’s never going to be able to fully part with, Jesse is going to have to learn to deal with Celine’s unhealthy relationship with her own anger (“I’m not asking you to change, it’s called accepting you for being you”). This is where Ariadni’s words come to mind as the testament of the film – “this is what fucks us up, right? The idea of a soulmate coming to save us from taking care of ourselves”. The point of the movie is that Jesse can’t save Celine from herself, and Celine can’t save Jesse from himself – that real love, which is to say real life, is not about that.

Another quite common form of criticism that I don't get is the annoyance at the movie being willing to occasionally be critical of feminism, or explore perspectives outside of the feminist lens – particularly with Jesse's character, whose detachment from and derision of Celine's overstated feminist apologia apparently strikes to many people as a betrayal to his characterization in the previous installments. But first of all, I don’t think there's any evidence that Jesse was ever portrayed as a feminist in the previous movies – and even if he had been, how can a change in one’s own ideology or outlook on life through an eighteen-years-long experience result in an “out of character” portrayal? People change. Ideologically and politically, I’m almost a completely different person than I was three years ago. Does that make me out of character? I don't think so. But that said, many seem to move from the assumption that Sunrise and Sunset were feminist movies in the first place, which I also disagree with. In Sunrise itself, when the topic of gender comes up for the first time between the two, Jesse points out the paradoxical nature of some common female behaviors and raises a biologically-rooted counterpoint to Celine’s obviously University-derived socially constructivist outlook. Nothing about that screams “feminist” to me.

On a sidenote, though, I find incredibly illuminating Jesse’s response to Celine’s rant about female sacrifice in the hotel room scene. He sharply brings up her privileged upbringing (she actually spent her whole childhood “travelling around the world while her father built buildings” and was raised “with all the freedoms he had fought for”, as she herself said to him in Sunrise), which starkly contrasts both with his own childhood of neglect and psychological abuse and therefore with her feminist axiomatic ideas of male privilege and female oppression, and then he mentions a specific historical male-only obligation (the military draft) to swiftly rebuff her claims. She calls him an asshole, but has no real counterargument to throw back at him other than some mockery. This writing choice was actually so clever that I had to pause the movie a moment and think back about Jesse’s character. Then it occurred to me: Jesse’s been divorced and likely lost custody of his son after a strenuous legal battle with his ex-wife that both he and Celine refer to multiple times during the film. He had to spend years travelling back and forth trying to escape the dreadful destiny of turning into his own father and dealing with a progressively litigious ex-wife who apparently exploited Celine’s pregnancy and the notoriously skewed U.S. legal system to make Jesse’s attempt at remaining present in his son’s life extremely difficult – all of this while still managing to maintain some kind of sympathy from the viewers, who know she’s been wronged and cheated on by her ex-husband. The screenplay of this movie is excellent to the point of being able to condense into a single line a character’s entire lived experience and approach to things. That amazing line from Jesse about the “trenches of the Sorbonne” not only reminds the audience that he’s not a feminist; it also reveals that he’s quite versed in (and therefore accostumed to) anti-feminist talking points. Which is incredibly accurate and realistic for an American man who has found himself having to deal with custody issues – as Celine rightly points out, “I guess judges assume that women have the mother instinct”.

The fact that Jesse’s lived experience makes him critical of feminism doesn’t mean that Celine’s own lived experience is invalid, though – nor does it mean that the movie itself is anti-feminist. And there lies the brilliance of the film. Celine’s deeply-held feminist views are still entertained and tested in their validity. She is allowed to be a feminist through and through and voice her ideas, often with incredibly powerful weight and resonance – in fact, two of Celine’s best and most poignant lines in the whole movie are "The world is fucked by unemotional, rational men deciding shit" and “You know what I love about men? They still believe in magic”. Most of the film's detractors just seem upset that those ideas are not presented by the movie as golden nuggets of truth that shouldn’t be subjected to scrutiny or falsification, or treated by the screenplay as axioms that should automatically be taken for granted by everyone. I also think having Jesse laugh at Celine exposing her worries about rape to be, once again, incredibly realistic – it highlights how there will always be some level of incomprehension between the sexes, and how men will never be fully able to put themselves in women’s shoes when it comes to truly understand and empathize with that kind of fear and vulnerability. It basically testifies men’s impossibility to live the female experience.

Moreover, the same detractors that lament their disappointment at the “lack of feminism” in the movie also seem to take umbrage at Celine being portrayed as profoundly human in her complexities, which strikes me as quite the paradox. Women can be as toxic and problematic as men, albeit often in different ways. It’s Celine’s own imperfection that truly makes her a great female character. The argument underneath this criticism seems to be that a female character who engages in problematic behaviors drawing from the ugliest side of human nature does a disservice to feminism – which I guess you might think, if your feminist belief assumes that only men can really be toxic and problematic with the other sex purely out of selfish reasons. It’s quite clear to me that a socially constructivist perspective on life and the world is informing these people's judgment on the movie and the characters, whose raw realism and unfiltered humanity they seem to find ideologically inconvenient.

I have to say I’m also baffled by some people's characterization of the argument scene in the hotel room as “boring”, or an example of “classic middle-aged couple problems" film. It’s anything but, in my opinion. I find it some of the best cinema I have ever seen, with directorial choices, a screenplay and acting performances so high-ranking and engrossing that I was left mouth wide open, with so many shades and aspects that I’d never seen any other “marriage movie” seriously bring up, let alone face. I could never give justice to the excellence of that scene with words. Similarly, I’m stunned by the recurring claim that the dialogue in this movie feels forced and pretentious, given the fact that this is uncontestably the less philosophical, more grounded script of the three. Even though I also don’t agree with those who claim that Jesse and Celine were ever pretentious, I can see how Sunrise could definitely give that impression at specific moments – though the actors’ chemistry and talent were always able to hide any artificiality as much as possible. But Sunset and Midnight particularly flow with such a spontaneous and natural rhythm, as well as flawless acting expertise, that it almost seems a criminal act to press pause during the film. This specific claim seems particularly paradoxical given the fact that the same people who complain about this simultaneously express dissatisfaction with the absence of the kind of idealistic, philosophical talk that the characters had with each other when they met for the first time – which could have easily sounded pretentious if it had been delivered by lower-skilled actors. As if, by the way, the lack of that kind of magic between the two wasn’t completely intentional and exactly the point Midnight is making, particularly when it comes to what Celine laments as her own forced sacrifice of existential discussions in favor of seemingly unending, practical maternal tasks. This is a movie where Jesse says that he misses hearing Celine think, and Celine replies that her thoughts now smell like shit. Not only is the Leopardi-esque “Death of the Illusions” one of the main themes of the film, it’s also an inevitability in the relationship between two formerly idealistic intellectuals who now have to deal with their own existential dread while at the same time raising a family together and being deprived of the luxury they used to have of closing the world outside of their time-constrained connection.

About the ending scene of the movie, I admit that it had to grow on me. On my first watch I didn’t really know what to think about it, mainly because I was still recovering from the brutality of their fight in the hotel room. But the more I rewatched the movie, the more it made sense, and now I find it not only extremely fitting but also kind of brilliant. The couple’s destiny is also once again left up to interpretation and not at all cemented in a definite trajectory like I've often seen being implied. At the same time, the trilogy comes full circle by having Jesse impersonate the time-travelling role-play that won Celine over during Sunrise, and consequently by evoking in the audience a comparison between the state of Jesse and Celine’s relationship now to that of the German couple who, likewise apparently in their 40s, had prompted Celine’s decision to change seat in the train and sit opposite Jesse, reinforcing that very idea of “awkwardness of life” that the palm reader advised Celine to resign herself to in order to find true happiness. As such, the ending solidifies the idea that genuine relationships take work to function, and that true happiness has to be found in carrying that work out ("in doing, not getting what you want"). Jesse realizes this and demonstrates that he’s willing to do the work to rekindle a kind of spark and magic that can exist outside of the transformative influence of time. Celine also eventually acknowledges this, and closes the film showing her own willingness to put in her own share of the work. "It’s not perfect, but it’s real."

Overall, this movie is a masterpiece, a milestone in romance and independent cinema and, as far as I'm concerned, the bar that any film intimately interested in the exploration of the human experience and the creation of solid characterization has to outdo.

This trilogy is History, and as such I will forever treasure it and pass it on. Thank you Richard Linklater, Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy for such a gift. Ad maiora.

[ramblersaccount]

18

In 2020, like much of the world, I experienced a lot of change. However, it felt somewhat less disruptive for me personally than for many others. Yes, the global pandemic turned our world upside down in a matter of days, but it was also the year I turned 18 and was supposed to transition into a young adult – Aaliah, version 2.0, with newfound independence and cooler vibes. I had anticipated a grand transformation in the way people perceived and treated me. I imagined myself becoming more sociable, attending parties, and embracing a more carefree lifestyle, no longer reliant on my parents for permission. Well, as it turned out, that's not quite how things played out. *Cue the sad trombone*

But that's perfectly okay; I could undertake the "Aaliah transformation" right from the comfort of my own home. TikTok had already gained considerable popularity as a social media platform before the pandemic, and I had recently created an account. The platform was rampant with self-proclaimed "self-care" gurus offering advice on how to take care of yourself during lockdown. They covered everything from skincare routines and dietary tips to picking up new hobbies. These content creators were there to both entertain and educate the masses. I found myself saving videos on the best recipes for weight loss, effective at-home skincare remedies, and guides on discovering my personal "aesthetic." Before I knew it, I was comparing myself to the people I saw on the app, wondering why I couldn't look more like them. Unfortunately, this remains a habit I struggle with to this day.

At that time, I weighed 115 pounds and really only had one proper meal a day. Even before the pandemic, I rarely had breakfast or dinner but would grab a sandwich or a snack after school and before my sports practices. Now that I was spending my entire day at home, my eating habits started to change, and I developed a fear of becoming "too big." I was a self-conscious teenager, plagued by worries about whether I was good enough.

My school was relatively small and predominantly Hispanic. In my grade, I could only recall about seven Black students, with me and one of the boys having the darkest skin tones. I also had a bit of a tomboyish style. This combination of factors made me feel somewhat less attractive than my peers. Additionally, I sometimes felt as though I was pigeonholed into the category of the "angry dark-skinned social justice warrior." 

I had never been in a relationship, and it seemed like no one had ever shown genuine interest in me, so I felt the need to reinvent myself. Despite my best efforts, I began gaining weight, and to my surprise, I actually liked it. I had always had curves, but now they were more pronounced, making me appear older and healthier, and I thought it suited me. I started experimenting with makeup and trying out new hairstyles and clothing, and I had mixed feelings about the whole process. Each new style I tried seemed to meet with resistance from my parents, making me feel like nothing ever looked quite right on me.

My excitement soared when I received acceptance to Lincoln University. Located in Pennsylvania, it meant I would be on my own, and being an HBCU (Historically Black Colleges and Universities) meant I'd finally get to experience being around more Black people than I ever had in my previous schools, truly immersing myself in American Black culture. I knew I'd never fully grasp it, coming from a West Indian household, but I was thrilled to be around people who looked like me.

When I moved into my dorm, the pandemic was still ongoing, so we had to quarantine for about a week. But after that initial period, college life began to unfold just as I had envisioned, at least for the first week. I hung out with a random group of people initially, only to never talk to them again, as it turned out. However, I embraced the clothing I wanted to wear and felt confident, albeit with a sense of artificial confidence. Strangely, every time I stepped out of my room, I felt a subtle tightness in my chest. Were my hand movements awkward? Why did I make eye contact with that person? They probably think I look out of place. These thoughts weighed on me with every step I took.

In time, I found myself leaving my room only to eat and occasionally get some fresh air. Surprisingly my anxiety about people had nothing to do with COVID and everything to do with my self-esteem. Luckily my room never felt like a prison; it was simply my sanctuary. I oddly never felt lonely, even though I spent most of my time by myself. I would read, watch TikToks, practice my dancing, paint, and do anything I wanted. I even tried out new recipes using a little toaster I definitely wasn't supposed to have. I felt free and content in my self-imposed solitude.

The only thing missing was my family, the food I loved, and the familiarity of my city. Lincoln was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by farms. There were only fake Italian restaurants and Domino's for dining options. The cafeteria's ethnic food could only hold me over for so long. I missed my mom's pelau and the ability to buy doubles. I longed for visits to the deli and taking the train. Living by myself made me happy, but I wished I could do it back home. 

Reflecting on it now, I regret missing out on the opportunity to socialize, but I am grateful for the time I had to be with myself. In hindsight, I see that it was essential for my personal growth. During that time alone, I discovered a deeper understanding of myself and learned to appreciate the journey of self-discovery. In moments of self-reflection and solitude, we often uncover our true selves, which can grow and flourish as we become more self-aware. Life's paradox is that while we seek connections with others, we must also connect with our inner selves. This inner journey helps us become more complete and better at forming meaningful connections with the world. 

[danielstock]

How do I fast for quick weight loss (step-by-step)?

1. What are the pros and cons?

The first thing to consider before starting any kind of diet plan is what are the negative consequences that could happen if you skip a meal or eat unhealthy foods? If you are not careful enough, you might end up eating too much junk food and drinking too much sweetened beverages. The consequences of skipping meals or having unhealthy foods are really high; they include dehydration, headaches, mood swings, stomachaches, cramps, bloating, constipation, fatigue and even heart attacks! However, if you are determined to lose some extra pounds, then you should start eating less and exercising regularly.

2. Set realistic goals

If you have decided to cut down on calories, you want to make sure that you set reasonable goals. Setting unrealistic goals, especially those based on unattainable figures, may lead to disappointment and frustration. Your goal should be something achievable, like losing 10 pounds in a month or two, rather than aiming for a number that seems impossible to reach. You need to set goals that are appropriate to your current condition.

3. Take small steps

When trying out diets, it’s best to take small steps towards your goals instead of going all out at once. When making dietary changes, it’s always best to start slowly. Begin by cutting back just 100 calories per day – that's enough to get started, but not enough to cause major problems. Then add another 100 calories each week until you've reached your ideal weight. As you're getting fitter, you'll find yourself burning off more fat without even noticing. You can gradually increase your calorie intake in order to speed up the process.

4. Make lifestyle adjustments

In addition to being mindful about how many calories you consume, you should also be conscious of the way you spend your time. Eating while watching TV or doing mindless activities, such as surfing the internet or playing computer games, is likely to slow down your metabolism and hinder your efforts to slim down. Instead, try taking walks around the neighborhood, talking to friends over coffee, or exercising using weights or cardio equipment. Get moving!

Do You Want Weight Loss Fast : Secret

5. Cut down on sugar

Canned soda, candy, sweets and desserts are all forms of added sugar. Sugar isn't inherently bad, but refined sugar makes everything worse. In fact, the average adult consumes almost 25 teaspoons of sugar daily. Cutting back on sugar and opting for healthier alternatives like fruit juices and natural sweeteners will help you feel full longer, curb cravings, and allow you to burn more calories.

6. Drink plenty of water

Drinking enough water is essential for maintaining proper weight and keeping your body functioning properly. Try drinking eight 8-ounce glasses of water every day. If possible, make sure you drink water throughout the day, not only when you are thirsty. Water flushes toxins from your system and helps keep your skin clear and bright. And don't worry about adding lemon or cucumber slices to your water. Both fruits have been shown to boost the effectiveness of detoxifying water.

7. Eat clean

Eliminating certain kinds of processed foods will go a long way toward helping you achieve your weight loss goals. Processed foods tend to be higher in salt, sugar and trans fats and lower in fiber and nutrients. Healthy choices include whole grain breads, cereals and pasta, chicken breast, fish, kale, broccoli, apples, oranges, carrots, green beans, Brussels sprouts, yogurt and lean meats.

[thepenguinlad]

This stuff gets a lot easier when you let go of the need to control things. Lesson learned during freshman chemistry lab (with a required lab partner). I wanted to keep an eye on every single thing to make sure it was correct, but realized that not only 1. there was not enough time to double check all her work, but 2. I was being kind of annoying! Now that I'm older, I realize more and more that I fucking *hate* being micromanaged. Having someone just staring over your shoulder can really get to you; it feels like they have no confidence in you, even when you've demonstrated competence. Which just like, really, *really* can make you feel like garbage especially if you're already dealing with self-esteem issues.

This is just coming back to me now as I start in as the Story Guide for Coyote and Crow for the first time - both in this system *and* as a DM. It's fun, but also anxiety inducing as someone who is still getting to know the system. And it doesn't help that I deal with self-esteem bullshit anyway.

But like, as we moved along this module, stuff definitely came up that I didn't expect, and I had to search around and correct myself a lot of the time. It felt kind of embarrassing! And I found myself wanting to exert control over the story because it was playing out differently than I expected.

One thing I think Coyote and Crow does well is emphasize the fact that you're telling a story together with your friends. When they wanted to do something I hadn't anticipated, I had to make a conscious effort to be open to what that would mean for the story, and then figure out how we could do what they wanted. I know it's a very baby DM (Story Guide, here) issue to have. But I think I struck a pretty good balance. Letting that go, acknowledging that some things are not a big deal and consciously processing through them - it feels nice.

I don't know, thoughts of someone who was an emotionally-stunted teenager just now getting a hold of literally understanding what it is I'm feeling. Still haven't had many relationships? I feel like I'm doing all this stuff on like a 10 year delay. It almost doesn't feel that important though, because I'm only able to approach them from a healthy place because I have a good support network, especially my roommates. Idk. People get so cheesy about practicing gratitude and surrounding yourself with good vibes and good people, but tbh that's like half of what helps you actually be happy. And not the fakey happiness either, I'm not talking about continual toxic positivity. It's this kind of contentedness u get from trying your best (even when that doesn't feel like enough), living in line with your values, and respecting yourself solely as a human being, who despite anything else always deserves to be treated with basic respect and kindness.

Letting go of these things erodes you.

That erosion isn't your fault. But it's your responsibility now - not to anyone else, but to yourself.

Of your eroding riverbank, flowing through your life, where will you plant willows and grasses to create and maintain the banks which define you? At what point do you say "no more"?

And the thing is, you're none the lesser for it. Sure, you'll never be the same as you were before - but why would you want to be? even if some of the bank eroded, new soil can be deposited. The snowmelt will slow a little, once spring gets a little further on. And then you can assess: what changed, and what can you do about it? What can you heal? What can you only remediate?

Sure, the river will never be the same again - but it doesn't mean you're less beautiful or valuable. Even after the floods, or storms, or clearcutting developers, those around you will still value and appreciate your presence. There will be little helps, from the seeds which get carried on the bottom of shoes and are left to enrich your soil, to the kind people who protest the factory that pollutes upstream. You are an ecosystem in the best way, but that also means you're susceptible to the hurts of your many environmental factors.

I think I lost the plot a little but

Tl;dr: you are a beautiful jungle river; do not let some motherfucker dump toxic waste in your waters.

[felikatze]

jay analysis time. fuck you

best take i've seen on wildbrain era jay is that he woobified himself and i think there's a rlly good case to be made for that tbh

like first of all we know he's an attention whore. this has been a thing since day one. he already has a history of adapting himself to be more like what he thinks others want from him

we first see this most clearly in s1 with his affection for nya; he puts on a front and tries to play the cool guy, even at the detriment to his health (i.e getting turned into a snake) and he only unlocks his true potential when nya accepts him for who he is after he drops the act

and then we have his response to zane's death in s3 being to start a tv career, where he's. obviously putting on a show to get people's attention it's kind of what you do at that job.

notably jay is also. self conscious of this trait? how he will forbid anyone from talking abt his tv career ever

he doesnt just want attention he's additionally vry afraid of disappointing people and s12 confirms he like. developed abandonment issues after s6.

like in s12 what allows him to reach out to unagami is bonding over how he was abandoned, too, and a solid (checks watch) six seasons after skybound we know being abandoned still rattles him (never change, ninjago) he's vry vry afraid of it happening again and being alone

as a result he appears vry afraid to upset others and be isolated which we see in several ways.

for upsetting others i'd point to his s13 interactions with the munce queen. like, her affection makes him obviously uncomfortable, yet he's not directly saying anything against it, bcuz he sees no way to turn her down without upsetting her. he only puts up minimum effort to defend nya who is, ykno, his fiancee. in the end, nya defeating the munce queen in a duel redirects the munce queen's ire at nya and preserves her good opinion of jay.

for being afraid of being alone i'd actually point at the league of jay in s12. once jay is isolated from his friends, he not only immediatly befriends scott, but also gains a large following. superstar rockin jay is a front similar to his tv show host days (when he was similarly isolated from his friends, albeit for different reasons). it's a lot of superficial attention that keeps him from feeling bad, and seeking that out was one of the first things he did in the game.

notably, the league of jay practically vanishes after jay reunites with the ninja, cuz he doesnt need them anymore now that his friends are back. he was using them as a replacement until they went and got him. kinda reminds me of the replacement ninja in s6. he didnt believe he could go against the sky pirates alone (fair tbh) so he gathered literal replacements for his friends. love how he knows echo zane exists but doesnt try to get him cuz jay doesnt need echo zane outside the replacement ninjas. fucker.

in s12 we also see him try to show off a lot, which happens in previous seasons too (looking at his attempts to woo nya by twisting himself again, in both s1 and s6), so here we see him try for adoration again.

all around jay is a social chameleon, and always has been. he constantly puts on various fronts for various people, be it for crowds or just his friends.

(both jay n nya lack a lot of emotional honesty which makes for fun disaster tbh. like either both of them r putting on acts and they both hate the other for it or it's oh my god the people putting on fronts are showing their true faces around each other like that brief bit of skybound in the lighthouse where they geniuenly reconcile and open up before [redacted] happens and i want to chew glass)

generally i think it's interesting how he's the brand of comedic relief perfectly aware that they're the comedic relief.

pre-s6 he's already self-conscious of his upbringing what with being poor n all (interalized classism mayhaps) and after s6 he's additionally self-conscious abt being abandoned cuz it feeds the thought that he can just not be good enough and that people can and have left him for it. again pointing at s12 finale how it eats jay up that he's never gonna know why he was abandoned and vry much doesn't want unagami to end up the same way

the whole you're adopted reveal brings what i think his greatest fear from the abstract to the real. he was already afraid of being left behind, and now he knows he already has been, so what's stopping it from happening again? ergo, do whatever you can to stay in everyone's good graces.

in short i do think it's a possible watsonian explanation for wildbrain era jay that he intentionally woobifies himself out of fear his friends will grow tired of him and ditch him. yeah.

jay's such a selfish character. i love this bastard.

[sunkissedpages]

instead of you [part fourteen]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption

word count: 2.6k

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“Just that you’re not technically a chef yet,” Tom explained defensively. “You’re not certified.”

“A chef doesn’t need a piece of paper to call themselves a chef,” Leo countered. “Anyone can be a chef. But don’t tell the WAC I said that.”

“Yeah, Tom haven’t you ever seen Ratatouille?” you teased.

“Great movie,” Leo added. “Sam, great job on your dough,” he reiterated.

Sam stuck his tongue out at his brother across the table who rolled his eyes in response as Leo picked up his ball of dough and rolled it in his hands.

“Tom, yours is still a little tough. Keep working on it.”

He nodded and took his dough back to continue kneading it. You noticed his jaw clenched subtly in frustration, but he didn’t say anything else. You watched as he rolled the pasta dough with a little more force, maybe a little too much.

Leo checked yours next and gave you similar feedback to Tom’s, even though Sam had helped you with yours. You didn’t want to think about what kind of feedback you would have gotten on your own.

Your dough was still flaking apart when you went back to working on it, and you tried desperately to hold it together with little success. Sam had left your side to help his mom so you were on your own.

At least Tom was also struggling. You felt a little better knowing he was miserable too.

You were starting to sweat with effort, you were so out of shape that even cooking had you catching your breath. You had thought this was going to be fun, but instead you were having flashbacks to high school P.E. class.

Leo made his way down the rest of the table and checked everyone else’s dough before circling back to you and Tom. He took over for Tom and instructed Sam to finish kneading yours so that he could move on with the lesson. It was embarrassing to be singled out, but Sam assured you it wasn’t your fault. He wasn’t making much progress with yours either.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with yours,” Sam whispered to you.

“I probably did it wrong,” you hissed back.

“I watched you do it, you did it the same way as everyone else.”

“Then why is it being like this?”

“Sometimes food has a mind of its own,” Leo interjected, making you realize the entire class had been listening to you and Sam’s back and forth. “This is good enough, though. We can set it aside with the other balls of dough to let them rest while we make the fillings.”

You and Tom set your sad pasta balls on the counter with the others before moving to the sink to rinse your hands.

“I think they’ll still taste good,” Tom said thoughtfully as he offered the bottle of soap to you and pumped some into your hands.

“I hope so.”

“It’s pasta, it’s almost impossible to fuck it up.”

“Yet somehow we still managed to.”

“Some would say it’s talent,” he said and shrugged.

You bumped his shoulder with your own as you fought over the water stream. You managed to stick your hands in first and Tom put his above yours only for you to shove them away.

“Hey!”

“You’re completely ruining the purpose of washing my hands!”

“I have soap on my hands, you have soap on your hands, what's the issue?”

“And you’re washing off your germs and they’re going on my hands now!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll wait my turn,” he seceded and let you finish washing your hands before he rinsed off his own.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Making the fillings for the pasta was a much simpler process than making the dough. All you had to do was mix certain ingredients together. It didn’t matter what order you added them, if you whisked fast or slow, the only important thing was that everything made it into the bowl one way or another.

You worked in pairs for this step. Sam mixed together the pesto filling while you did the parmesan-truffle one.

“This is different than the pesto I make,” he said, looking at the mixture in his bowl.

You frowned. “But I like your pesto.”

“It’ll still be good, baby,” he assured you with a kiss to the forehead. “Don’t worry.”

When the fillings were done it was time to revisit the balls of dough and roll them into pasta. Sam explained it to you like rolling Play-Doh, but it was far more difficult in your opinion. Play-Doh was nowhere near as stubborn as this. The pasta dough somehow retained tension, and would bounce back every time you tried to stretch it.

Sam ended up having to help you and Tom because both of you were starting at a disadvantage with your fucked up dough.

“I never want to hear you say I have it easier than you ever again,” Sam warned as he folded your strands of dough into raviolis.

The class had moved on to the final step, shaping and filling the noodles, but you had already tapped out. Sam was done with his portion before you had even finished one so he had taken over for you.

“I’m sorry for saying that,” you said, remembering all the times you had teased him for stressing out over his ‘soufflé final’ or ‘crepe labs’. “I would much rather be writing a paper right now.”

He shrugged. “Everyone has their strengths.”

“I’m starting to think that Ratatouille movie was bullshit,” you groaned.

“How ironic,” Tom snorted across from you.

He was really starting to get on your nerves. But you let his comment go, not allowing your temper to get the better of you. He was still Sam’s family, even if they had a... complicated relationship.

When the class finally settled in the dining room of the restaurant to eat you were sweaty, sore, and exhausted. You could feel your skin sticking to the leather seat, and you felt severely underdressed. Back in the kitchen you hadn’t been so self-conscious. But now you couldn’t stop thinking about your appearance.

The atmosphere was much more sophisticated. The lights were dim, and soft music played in the background. All of the other guests were following an unspoken black-tie dress code while the fifteen of you were still wearing your disposable aprons, only now they were covered in flour and egg yolk.

And to make it worse-

“Smile!”

Nikki held up her phone and motioned for you and Sam to scoot your chairs closer together. You took a deep breath and complied, leaning your head against your fake boyfriend’s and managing a grin. You really didn’t want this moment to be immortalized, but you didn’t want to be difficult either.

The camera flashed once, then again. Sam wrapped a hand around your waist and pulled your body against his, pressing a kiss to your cheek for another picture. You scrunched up your face as the flash went off, the tickle of his breath against your skin and the feather-light touch of his lips making you squeeze your eyes shut.

“That’s a good one!” Nikki complimented, even though you were sure it wasn’t as flattering as she was making it out to be.

The pasta was served with a glass of red wine for everyone. Sam was right, the pesto was different from his, but it was still good. It was no match for his recipe, but the handmade pasta did give it a few bonus points. You were sure you hadn’t gotten any of the noodles you made because all of the ones on your plate were perfect. It didn’t feel fair that you got to enjoy somebody else’s hard work while they got your shitty excuse of a ravioli.

But as the wine dwindled from your glass the negative thoughts began to ebb away too. Your muscles, though still sore, relaxed slightly and you rested your head on Sam’s shoulder as everyone else finished their meals around you. The conversation carried on without your contribution. Your social battery had died hours ago, but you were content to listen to the Hollands chat with other students at the table.

You weren’t a huge fan of wine, but the one served with dinner was palatable, and to be honest you weren’t one to turn down complimentary alcohol anyway. It tasted more expensive than anything you had ever drank, like the equivalent of velvet on your tongue. You finished your glass and the rest of Harry’s.

-

The next few days in Florence passed in a similar fashion. You ate a lot of carbs, drank a lot of alcohol and let the business of the itinerary overwhelm you. It was getting tiring, living in an act. Trailing along behind the Hollands like a dog, worn on Sam’s arm like an accessory.

You had known what you were getting into, and you were trying your best to enjoy the experiences- because who the fuck knows when you’ll ever get to go on such a nice vacation again, but pretending to be in love with your best friend was a harder feat than you had thought.

It felt like being in a school play. Every move and phrase had to be intentional. You tread the lines of your relationship with rehearsed expertise. And you had to watch what you said, because everyone’s eyes were on you. At least that’s what it felt like.

Sam’s parents were easy. They fully bought into your lie, seeing what they wanted to. They usually left you to your own devices, too. His brothers were the ones who needed convincing. Not even Harry, though. Tom was the problem. Tom was always the problem.

You were in Rome now, walking back to the hotel from the Colosseum. Sam had his arm slung around your shoulders and was talking his twin brother’s ear off about the Gladiators and inaccuracies in films about Ancient Rome.

You didn’t think you’d seen him this excited the entire trip. It was cute, the way he talked with his hands and looked off into the distance whenever he was really engaged in something. Harry was also cute. He was trying his best to keep up with Sam, nodding his head at all the right points, asking questions when there was a pause in conversation.

“Yeah, gladiators fucking unionized,” Sam explained. “They put their lives on the line all the time, ya know? Might as well get benefits.”

“If I was a gladiator I’d join their union,” you said, adding to the conversation for the first time in a while.

“There were women gladiators too, babe! You totally could’ve been one.”

You laughed. “You remember my season on the intramural dodgeball team? I wouldn’t last a day. But I appreciate the thought, Sammy.”

You had dinner in the restaurant attached to the hotel lobby. Nikki passed around her Canon for everyone to look through the pictures from the day while a bottle of limoncello was passed around the table.

You’d scarfed down your pasta and passed on dessert in favor of another shot of limoncello. Rookie mistake.

In the past the sugary drink had always tasted like cough syrup to you, but this batch tasted like straight-up lemonade. You were tipsy, bordering on drunk, but nowhere near blacked. Nikki and Dom turned in around shot three, leaving the tab open for the four of you. Sam went upstairs next, having gone too hard too fast on the limoncello (he was on shot five when his parents went back to their room).

Then it was just You, Harry, and Tom. You told Sam you’d join him in a bit after the pianist played a couple more songs. In all honesty, the music reminded you of Sam. Back at school you could always find Sam in the music hall if he wasn’t in the culinary building. You’d always hear him playing as soon as you walked through the double doors. You could always tell it was him at the keys by the way the playing sounded. He was self-taught, but still a genius in your mind. He didn’t need any formal training to make beautiful music, and that’s what you loved about it.

When he moved out of the dorms and into an apartment he bought a keyboard, and you’d spend nights together in his room illegally pirating sheet music for him to learn new songs. He’d play whatever you requested, and if he didn’t know how to play it he’d teach himself.

The pianist in the restaurant played with a little more expertise. The notes sounded refined, perfected. Sam always told you that perfect music was restrained music, that real music had flaws, that a song should sound a little different every time it was played.

After an encore of Beethoven the man at the piano stood from his bench and took a bow, passing his hat around the room to collect tips. Tom dropped a bill into the hat and you did as well, handing it back to the man afterwards. He dumped the contents of the hat into a briefcase and closed the lid of the piano, thanking everyone in the audience for their donations.

“Well, I think I’m going to head up now,” Harry said, yawning for emphasis. “We still have to get up at the ass crack of dawn even though we’ll all probably be hungover.”

“Speak for yourself,” Tom said cockily, then turned to you. “One more shot?”

The bottle of limoncello was almost empty anyway. Might as well finish it off, it’d be a shame to let it go to waste, right?

“Hit me.”

“God, you’re both going to be so fucked tomorrow,” Harry groaned.

“We’ll be fine,” Tom insisted, rolling his eyes at his younger brother.

“Good night, Harry,” you sang, waving at him as he walked off.

“Yeah whatever.”

Tom wasted no time pouring you both a shot of what was left of the limoncello. The restaurant was beginning to clear out so he worked fast, filling the glasses up to the marked line. You both took one and clinked them together before throwing them back.

You winced at the burning sensation in the back of your throat and put the glass back on the table, searching for something to chase the shot with. Your eyes fell to Tom, lingering on his cheeks, his lips, both pink from the alcohol or something else. You flicked your gaze down to his neck, his collarbone that was peeking out from the neckline of his shirt. You thought about how it would feel to kiss him there, to run your tongue over a love bite you’d given him.

You forced your gaze back to his eyes, hoping he hadn’t caught you staring. You had to act uninterested, you couldn’t let on to- but he was staring back. His eyes were intense, and almost impossible to read in the darkness of the room. You knew you should look away, knew you had to keep up appearances, but you couldn’t.

Later you’d blame it on the alcohol, but in that moment you knew the limoncello wasn’t what was making your head spin, or your what was making your vision cloudy.

You were about to leave the table, about to rush to the elevator and back to Sam but then suddenly Tom was kissing you. He cradled your head in his hand and tilted your chin up to meet his lips. It wasn’t desperate or messy like most drunk kisses were. Instead, it was delicate. You swore you could feel every line of his lips against yours, feel his heartbeat through his hands on your cheek.

It was only for a second, not enough time for you to react or reciprocate and then he was pulling away, eyes wide with panic.

“Please don’t tell Sam.”

logging off before i get yelled at but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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