#and trued to put it in drafts

[cherrypickinns]

um hello the new theme 🎇🔥🚒

feel like you sent a thread of emoji that represents a story.

it was a new year's day, when the fireworks went off, the air was intoxicated and people lost in their joy. the music so loud you could feel every beat to your bone, the alcohol flowing through everyone's veins.

it wasn't unnatural when a lone firecracker lost its way through the sky, and instead of bursting in the air- it entered your room. but something strange happened, the firecracker stood at your window and asked, "im fucking lost dude."

"come again?" you ask.

"girl, idfk where to go!" the firecracker said in distress, he looked around the room and noticed you on your phone.

"can you like leave? the window's open." you gesture to the same open window and go back to my phone, dismissing his presence.

"a firecracker can never walk back to its own path, it's not in my destiny," he says mournfully, "I have to live with the choices I make."

His face lit up, the sparkles burning at the end of his wick burning more brighter, awfully close to the curtain from your window. He maintains the decency of flying away from it.

"if I burst on your phone, I can save your life," the firecracker says with sorrow in his eyes, "i cannot be the cause of your death, i could not bear it."

the emotions behind his words catch you off guard, a strange feeling erupting in your chest. you look down at your phone and back to him. you wonder if these are his only options.

"can't you-" your eyes search his... well you're not very sure but the equivalent to his face, but you find nothing but regret.

"i know what you of- and no, i cannot. once I've been lit, I can only do two things; to destroy or to be destroyed,"

the firecracker stands up straighter, looking straight at me for an answer, and i nod my head. "i forgive you," I whisper, setting the phone on the floor and backing away from it.

"call the firemen," he says, the end of his wick burning much more brighter, "you're gonna need it."

a sob rattles through you and you run out of your room, dialing the number on the family telephone, barely getting your words out.

you don't have the energy to run out, to saddened by the death of the firecracker. so you stay curled up in your couch, mourning the loss of a good... thing.

"where's the fire?" you hear a man shouting outside your door. you wipe your tears, and open the door. you gesture to the room you were in and the firemen look at you strangely.

"again- where's the fire?"

their words confuse you so you glance back to your room, and sure enough, there is no fire. you sprint back to it and find... absolutely nothing on fire.

your phone lays on the same place it did, untouched and unburnt. you dare take your steps towards it and pick it up and put in your password.

as the phone unlocks, you see the firecracker appear on your screen, waving his burning wick as if he's saying "hi!"

you let out a laugh of delight, and the firecracker moves out of the screen and then you see it. everything on your phone, in the theme of orange- the color of fire.

you come out of the room, laughing- crying in delight as you address the firemen, "thank you so much for coming. i really appreciate it, thank you for being a witness to this beautiful moment-"

"ma'am, calling 911 without an emergency is a felony." but his words fall deaf on your ears, you start spinning as music plays from the phone, you can see firecracker dancing on your screen.

"ma'am-" you heard the call for you multiple times but you didn't pay them any mind. you felt your hands being restricted and the click of your cuffs, and soon enough they were escorting you to the police station. but you weren't upset, if being locked up was the consequence of today- you would do it a 1000 times over.

[wetdickwill]

im obsessed with weird creatures, strange omens, foreboding atmospheres, uncomfortable conversations, gross stuff, and violently homoerotic behaviors

[mebemilena]

 I take it and I eat it with a cherry on top

pairing: Daenerys Targaryen x fem Reader

summary:  you're the new cook of Queen Daenerys

A/N: i'm just exercising my writing skills. Sometimes my drafts and wips become comic books if i can convice the clients. Tittle from the song "Take a Bite", by Beabadoobee

PROMPT: "If your food is not good, i'll feed you to my dragons."

---

You and your big mouth. Some nasty comment about the Queen's personal cooks had brought you to this situation. "If your food is not good, i'll feed you to my dragons.", Daenerys had said, playfully and mischievous, which brought you to this moment.

You entered the throne room with a few maids, each of them carrying a tray with covered plates. As the Queen's new cook, you had tried to impress everyone with a few recipes of your own though you were confident in your talents, having cooked for your family and friends since you were a teen.

The Queen sat on her throne as the maids brought her the trays with the fresh cooked meals she'd try.  "Are you saying this is not real meat?", Daenerys looked confused, the taste still vivid on her tongue.

"Yes, your majesty.", you confirmed with a smile, proud of your work and satisfied with the glint of amusement in your Queen's eyes. Daenerys frowned for a moment.

"I know it's not usual. But these are healthy and will bring you strength. They hold the daily proteins you'll need in a good diet.", you offered her one more bite.

Daenerys looked at you in awe, a small smile slowly growing. "I like meat.", she said simply, but took the piece in your hand. "But i'm open to new experiences.", she ate it, savoring your new recipe. 

She invited Missandei and Sor Jorad to taste the goods you had prepared, but the man refused and made no effort to do it gently.

"Sir Jorah doesn't trust me, your grace. And i have no desire to change his mind.", you shrugged. "He might think i'd try to poison him.", you chuckled, not carying that the man could hear you.

Daenerys tried to sound a little more serious as she sat on her throne, this was a sensitive topic after all. "And what about poisoning me? A few had tried before.", she asked, defiant.

"I have no desire to poison you, my Queen.", you started, waving your hand like it was the most stupid thing one could do. "If i did, it wouldn't be through the food i happen to try before serving you, and in front of you.", you explained, taking small bites of the food on the table. 

It took you a minute to realize your own words. You and your big mouth.

Your answer got the Queen's attention, she was almost amused. Missandei watched your dialogue in deep curiosity while Sor Jorah seemed uneasy. "And how would you do it?", Daenerys asked, not a drop of fear in her voice.

You walked to her, approaching her seat and the small table by her side. With practiced manners, you prepared another plate of food. A slice of bread, a few fruits and a small globe of soup.

"I'd do it slowly.", you told her, holding the bottle with wine and filling her glass. "Both killing and loving demands patience, your majesty. If you give it all at once, it makes a mess.", you chuckled.

"So if I wished to poison you, mylady, I'd give you a few droplets everyday.", you handed her the glass, and Sir Jorah put his hand on the shaft of his sword.

Daenerys looked at you as she drank the wine slowly, hooked by the way you spoke, enchanted.

"You'd drink it in your wine, in our water. Eventually, you'd fall sick and I'd offer to take care of you only to keep poisoning you. You'd die slowly. It'd look like something natural, like some sad trick of destiny.  And nobody would ever be suspicious of me, the person who took such good care of you on your final days.", you finished, not exactly proud of your wisdom on the subject. 

Daenerys laughed, drinking more from her glass. "You shall live one more day."

Missandei let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, and Sor Jorah frowned even more to you, cursing under his breath.

Daenerys trusted you, but what kept you alive for so long was that she liked you. You and your big mouth.

[worldheadcanons]

☆ when their s/o’s being motherly!

requested by anon! feminine reader. starring . . . germany & japan. warning for mentions of pregnancy. fandom masterlist found here.

📌 . . . author notes: this wasn’t everyone that anon asked for but these are the two characters i had past drafts for, so i decided to just post these two! if anyone wants this prompt with other characters, you can shoot me an ask when requests are back open :)

ludwig beilschmidt!

— the two of you had a date scheduled for that night. it wasn’t at a restaurant or anywhere particularly fancy but at someplace much more special — your house. you had told him beforehand while planning the date that you were watching over a baby cousin of yours for the evening. fortunately, ludwig still agreed to hang out with you. you guys had been dating for a good while so he figured it would be fine. he didn’t mind children too much anyways, though they tended to have mixed reactions towards him.

— he arrived right on time, as usual, taking a moment to get himself together before quietly ringing your doorbell. you answered the door after a few moments, your little cousin in your arms. the two of you traded hellos and smiles. beilschmidt made sure to smile gently at your little cousin, not wanting to upset the baby. you welcomed him inside and the two of you put on a nice little movie to watch.

— in the middle of the movie, he noticed how close you were cuddled up together. that, and how cute you looked with a baby in your arms. how natural and at ease both you and the baby seemed... the baby was content for now, barely making a fuss. just him, you, and a baby.. he could get used to something like this. ludwig blushed slightly, thinking about what you’d both have to do in order to get a baby. he chastised himself in his head for being a pervert. all the while you paid no mind, leaning your head onto his shoulder and enjoying the film.

— close to the end of the film, your cousin started to cry. the baby’s face balled up, clearly upset. you jumped to your feet, quickly excusing yourself before rushing off to go take care of your cousin. it could be anything really — hunger, sleepiness, a full diaper — so it took a while for you to find the source of the baby’s discomfort.

— in the meantime, ludwig was left to sit with his thoughts in the living room. thoughts of you, of course. he couldn’t help but let his mind wander. a small smile appeared on his face as he imagined what domestic life would be like with you. how life would be with you and him and a child of your own… a baby that would grow into a toddler and then into a six or seven year old. a little mix of you and a little mix of him, running around the house. causing messes and laughing cheerfully. beilschmidt would make sure that your kid would be happy. that you would be happy.

— after a bit of time, you came back into the living room. he noticed that your cousin was gone but before he could open his mouth, you explained that you had changed his diaper and set him down for bed. you joked that you weren’t sure if he’d stay asleep. you weren’t the most motherly, you said, plopping back down onto the couch beside your boyfriend.

— ludwig could only shake his head at your words, which made you raise an eyebrow in curiosity. “i think you’d make a wonderful mother. a baby is a lot to handle.. but i think you could manage it. you seemed at ease with your cousin, you know..”

— “really? ah, ludwig, you’re so sweet,” you replied, taking his hand and holding it. you gave it a small squeeze and then continued on. “i think you’d make a great father. i can already imagine you playing with our children.”

— he grinned at that, pressing a kiss to your head. “i’m glad to hear that.”

kiku honda

— the two of you had managed to find a beautiful park to walk at earlier that day. there were lots of trees and shrubs in the beginning phases of blooming. hand in hand, you strolled around together, talking about whatever came to mind. it had been a truly relaxing experience. you happened to find a nice wooden bench to sit down on just when the both of you were getting tired of walking. there was a humble but colorful playground in front of the bench which provided you something interesting to look at. now, instead of walking and talking, you two were sitting and talking.

— you chatted for a while before a comfortable silence fell in between the two of you. you both were busy enjoying the surprisingly pleasant spring day. you leaned against honda’s shoulder and he pressed a gentle kiss to your head through your hair. you almost ended up dozing off completely but just as your eyes started to droop, a young boy came over to you with a small flower. he smiled, his cheeks slightly flushed pink. it was completely and utterly adorable.

— “for me?” you asked quietly, eyes wide in slight disbelief. the boy nodded and handed it to you. as you accepted the flower, he giggled to himself. you gave him a smile in return. “thank you so much,” you said. you held the flower gently before deciding to tuck it behind your ear. that way you wouldn’t lose it to the breeze.

— you and kiku both watched as the boy ran back towards the playground. there were a few other kids who he seemed to be friends with. “looks like i have competition,” honda chuckled, joking around about the situation. when you gave him a confused look, he decided to explain. “i think he has a little crush on you.”

— you laughed gently, denying the whole idea. “kids give flowers to lots of people. i’m sure he would’ve given you one too if he could. he was so cute though. i love kids. they’re so funny sometimes.” you had always been particularly fond of children. apparently, children were fond of you too.

— it had been maybe ten or fifteen minutes before the same boy came back over. this time he had popsicles with him. he quietly smiled again and offered you one in the same way he offered you the flower. you smiled and gushed about how thankful you were, going as far as to give him a curt hug. kiku had zoned out in the middle of this interaction, thinking about how life would be like if you two had a young kid of your own. a little boy or girl to chase after. it would be nice… parenting had its ups and downs of course but he was sure the two of you could handle it.

— you took your favorite flavor of popsicle from the boy, giving him a grin before turning to honda, “want one?”

— he blinked before speaking. “a kid?” he asked, confused as to what you were talking about. to be fair, he wasn’t paying much attention to the situation around him. his face grew red though as he realized what you were offering.

— “no?” you replied with a laugh, handing him a popsicle. you gave him a small kiss to the cheek before speaking again. “i mean.. if that’s what you want i wouldn’t mind.”

[yailtsv]

Lego sets - Paige’s daughter

💌 Syn: paige buys lilah some gifts as a reward for getting good grades

»»— warnings: las!paige - i wrote this way before the draft lottery and was to lazy to change the team and teammates

»»— notes: finally finished bringing stuff over from wattpad!! now i just have to bring stuff from here over to wattpad 😔

»»— word count: 1.6k

»»— pair: paige x daughter!oc || lilah bueckers

Paige, Cameron, Rickea, and Rae all went to target today to get some necessities but Paige was also getting a few things for her daughter, as she had done really good on her spelling test and math test so P wanted to give Lilah a little reward. Paige and Lilah always have mama-daughter dates, and most of those date nights are exactly like this: eating take out or cooking together, baking some type of dessert (mostly already made cookie dough) and building legos while watching some game show on Netflix. It's both of their favorite things to do and they always cherish those nights as they don't get to do it a lot during the wnba season and Paige knew Lilahs gonna grow out of it eventually.

"What about Star Wars?" Rae asks holding up the gaint Darth Vader Lego set "we already did it a month ago" P says not even looking at her, focusing on the Lego boxes in front of her "okayyy what about the Eiffel Tower?" "Did it like 3 three weeks ago" "Stitch?" "A few years ago. Did it my fifth year of college." "Flowers" "have done multiple different ones" "alright we give up" Rickea says as she got tired of them all listing things off, just to immediately be shut down by Paige

Paige ignores them as they keep complaining about anything and everything, just looking at the legos trying to find some good ones, that P knows Lilah will love. That's when she sees a Moana set and a Disney Castle set, which is perfect for Lilah. Paige grabs those and put them in the cart that her and Rae are sharing, Cameron and Rickea sharing another cart.

"Finally! Can we go now?" Rae exclaims "No. I need to get a few more things. You guys can go to the front if you want, I'll meet you when I'm done." Paige says trying to make them not be annoyed anymore, as they all have been at the store for almost two hours, getting stuff they all needed or wanted in their houses. All of their feet's are starting to hurt and not mention they all have been stopped by fans like every 5 minutes.

"No, we're not gonna leave you alone when we've been stopped like 100 times already by fans. What else do you need to get? And why was it so important you get legos today?"Cameron cuts in before any of the other girls could "I need to get some cookie dough, tru fru, milk, chicken tenders, mac and cheese, carrots, mixed fruit, and a stuffed animal. And to answer your second question, Lilah got a B+ on her spelling test and a C+ on her math test, so we're gonna have a mama-daughter date night. The legos, Tru fru, and Stuffed animal are her reward and the food is her favorite meal, and we always bake something on m&d nights." Paige tells them "wait she passed? Those were the ones she was struggling with right?" Rickea asked "yeah, I was helping her study words in the locker room." Cameron cuts in before Paige can say anything "yeah she was struggling with those subjects a lot, so that's why I'm giving her a reward. She doesn't know that I know yet, as her teacher told me so it's gonna be a surprise."

"Alright so let's split up, me and cam will go get the cookie dough, milk, tru fru, and chicken tenders. You and Rae go get the stuffed animal, carrots, Mac and cheese, and mixed fruit. We can meet up at the self checkout. What kind of cookie dough and tru fru?" Rickea adds

"Chocolate chip cookie dough and for tru fru, bananas and strawberries." Paige answers making Rickea nod, and start turning around making Paige and Rae start doing the same, heading to where the stuffed animals are. "Hey Paige, wait" Rickea stops and turns around making P and Rae also do that "when you’re getting the stuffed animal, get some mini brands and lol dolls. I know Lil likes that stuff, My treat." Rickea continues "alright. Are you sure?" P asks "yep, I'm positive." Rickea says making Paige nod "ok, Thank you." Paige replies making Rickea nod and turn back around,- both groups going in different directions to get the rest of the stuff.

They all met up like planned and payed for their own stuff, Paige dropped them off at Cameron's apartment as they’re all getting ready together to go to a bar, and Paige took all her store bags home and set up what could be set up, before leaving to go pick lilah up from school. On the drive back to their home P told lilah that there was a surprise waiting for her making her get excited and start asking and guessing what it was. Obviously Paige wouldn't tell her.

When they got home Lilah was rushing Paige to unbuckle her and get her out of the car, at least Lilah still followed those rules when P knew she really wanted to just run to the house. Paige lifted her out of the car and set her on the ground "don't run yet, I need to get a few things from the car alright?" Paige asks her making Lilah immediately pout, Paige has learned to just ignored that though.

P made her way to the trunk and got her bag and lilahs school bag and then shut the trunk, lilah was still bouncing on the heels of her feet "cmon mama, I wanna see the surprise"

"Alright Alright, come here" Paige says chuckling slightly. P picks lilah up and put her on her hip and locks the car with her keys, then started making her way to the elevator to take the two of them to their apartment

Lilah is still trying to guess what it is and has listed the surprise about 4 times but P lied each time and said she was wrong. They make it to their apartment and Paige set Lilah down in front of the door, grabbed the keys out of her pocket - unlocking and opening the door for Lilah, which she immediately runs through.

She looks in the kitchen first and doesn't see anything as P put all the food away when she dropped the bags off, then she goes into the living room. Bingo!

She sees the legos, stuffed animal, lol dolls, and mini brands set up on the table, she sees the blankets and pillows that Paige brought out and put on the couch, and she sees their favorite game show "the circle" loaded up on the tv

"MAMA AND DAUGHTER DAY?!" She yells mispronouncing daughter "yep! You did so good on your math and spelling test, I figured you deserved a reward. Rickea bought you the lol dolls and mini brands though so you’ll need to thank her next time you see her. "

"I will! Thank you mama!" "Your welcome princess! But there is more, for dinner we are gonna have chicken tenders, mac and cheese, mixed fruit, and carrots. For dessert I got chocolate chip cookie dough, and another part of your reward is tru fru." She just squealed and ran up hugging Paige’s legs, P bent down a little and put one of her hands on Lilahs head and the other on her back, trying her best to hug Lilah back with the gaint height difference

"Alright babe, why don't you go get changed into your pjs and we will start dinner once you come back?" "Okay!" Lilah says and then runs off to her room

Paige goes to the kitchen and gets the chicken and mac and cheese out, filling a pot with water and turning the stove on. Once that's done P goes to her room and changes into her green plaid pj pants and a UConn zip up jacket. Walking back into the kitchen Paige sees Lilah wearing her Olaf onesie Azzi bought her so they could match, standing on her foot stool, leaning on the kitchen counter watching the water

"You ready to make dinner?" Paige asks her while walking closer and looking into the pot of water, seeing that it is boiling "yeah!" Paige opens the box of Kraft Mac and cheese and hand it to her  "dump that in the water"

After they made dinner and ate it, they put the leftovers away and got comfortable in the living room, setting blankets and pillows on the floor and making a giant bed/ pillow type thing in front of the living room table

Lilah decided she wanted to open the lol dolls and mini brands now, so while she was doing that Paige opened the Disney castle Legos and started reading the instructions

"Mama look" Lilah said excitedly making Paige look over at her and see her holding a few small food items from the mini brands "wow baby, you’re gonna have your very own pantry soon" that made Lilah giggle a little bit. Once she saw what P was doing Lilah put the other stuff away and pointed to the tv "circle?" Paige asked even though she knew what Lilah wanted, already grabbing the remote and turning on Netflix while she was nodding.

Once the shows turned on they both start working together (pretty much just Paige, while Lilah plays with the legos) to build the Disney castle. Eventually it was built and they cleaned up their mess, laying down on the couch and Lilah laying on Paige’s chest. Paige turned on a Disney movie for Lilah but she fell asleep holding onto Paige’s jacket not even 15 minutes in.

🏷️ @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @authentic-girl03

[thefrogman]

Late Night Hosts: A Retrospective.

After the success of this post...

I noticed people seemed interested in the history and personalities of late night comedians. Especially all the youngins who weren't around yet. These hosts were a big part of my comedy training. So I thought I'd share with you what I remember of my comedy analysis and some personal context showing what made them tick.

I will be covering Johnny Carson, Jay Leno, David Letterman, and Conan O'Brien.

And if this post is successful, I will do Craig Ferguson, Jimmy Kimmel and all of the newest hosts.

Almost all of this is from memory, so a few details could be inaccurate. But I used to set up 2 VCRs so I could record Jay, Dave, and Conan each night. I watched Conan from show #1. That was 1993 (I was 12 then) and I did this for several years.

I would also get a bit of Carson Daly on the tape and just be flabbergasted someone gave him a television show.

Even Kermit was like, "How is this guy more of a fucking muppet than I am?"

I would watch my tapes and study them and take notes. I would do little comedy exercises. I tried to write a Letterman Top 10 List (I called it a "top 7½ list" because I feared the copyright police). I wrote monologue jokes about celebrities. And I tried creating silly characters like on Conan.

I was a big comedy nerd as a teenager, what can I say?

I even created an alter ego called "Bob the Frog" who was basically a ripoff of Triumph the Insult Comic Dog and Don Rickles. "Bob" wrote a comedy newsletter (I still have it somewhere) that I passed around to my classmates in junior high. This frog alter ego was my first attempt at comedy writing. (If you've ever wondered why I am "The Frogman", now you know.)

The first few were really bad. Then I got better and my friends started asking if I had written anything new. It was my first taste of making people laugh and I was hooked. I knew comedy would be a part of my life from then on.

I learned that I hated insult comedy. I felt too guilty. The only person I felt comfortable saying bad things about was myself. So "Bob" would say I was a lame dorktopus.

Eventually, I did stand-up until I was too sick to perform (1999-2003). I was just getting good so that was a very difficult period of my life. It felt like my dream was snatched away by my poor health.

On a whim, my best friend Tru McGowan convinced me to start a comedy Tumblr in 2009. At first I was really bad. I was used to stand-up where you had a new crowd each time and you could polish jokes until they were perfect. The hardest thing about internet comedy (much like late night comedy) is that everything is your *first* draft.

I'm not sure if people realize how difficult first draft comedy truly is. You can get decent at predicting what an audience will laugh at. But it is *never* a sure thing. Things you work on for days and are positive people will love... they will bomb horrifically. Things you write in 20 seconds and post on a lark... they go viral to a few million people.

But the greatest tragedy of all is when you post something with potential and it bombs. You know if you could workshop it with a proper crowd over a week or a month, you could make something amazing.

But it is already out there.

Your entire following saw it.

It is what it is.

That is some genuine 2009 Froggie comedy right there.

I just put text on a picture. I mean, this dude definitely wanted to bang that rancor and his dream was crushed just like its head. There is a joke there. And lolcat style text-on-a-picture was the comedy fad.

But "Gay for Rancors" got 15 pity notes and that was the end of my exploration of rancor fetish jokes.

Soon I started putting a little more effort into my originals. Somehow Photoshopping this bacon on a string got me 50 notes.

And I was never one to shy away from capitalizing on a current meme, so this accrued 143 notes (viral for Tumblr in 2009).

I got to know my audience. I started understanding what worked and what didn't. I did a lot of experimenting and eventually I started understanding this new comedy medium. If you are weird and put forth enough effort, people will reward you.

As an internet "first draft" comedian, I feel a spiritual connection to late night comedians. They have one day to write 15-20 minutes of material and once they send it out into the world... that's it. No second chance.

I think studying Conan and Dave helped prepare me for my blog. I still prefer polishing material over time, but I'm so glad I could rise to the occasion when circumstances demanded I "first draft" my entire comedy career.

So...

Let's get started.

Heeeeeeeeeeere's Johnny!

Johnny Carson

I missed out on peak Johnny. But I have watched a bunch of those compilation videos with highlights from the show. I mean, I used to watch the 3am infomercial for those compilation videos. So I feel like I am still qualified to analyze him as a long-time student of comedy.

I started becoming aware of comedy right as Johnny was retiring. I literally studied it like a subject at school while not studying actual subjects at school. And the late night shows were some of the best learning tools available (aside from getting stand-up specials from Blockbuster). You got to see comedy every night and a variety of comedians with different styles.

Johnny was the best at the traditional late-night monologue. It's not that the jokes were funnier. Honestly, it is impossible to write 5 minutes of stand-up in a day that can give you anything more than a chuckle. But the audience knows that and it causes something I call "forgiveness comedy." People will adjust what they think is funny depending on the circumstances. If they know you had a day to write something, the audience will consider that and be primed to laugh more at less funny material. Especially if they like the comic.

The best example is improv. An audience will forgive the joke quality just because they are amazed it is coming straight off the dome (that isn't always true, improv is more magic trick than spontaneity, but that is another post). But if you tried to perform that same improv as a polished stand-up act, it would likely bomb. The brain adjusts to context.

Johnny took advantage of this and where he really shined was in between the written jokes. His bombs were opportunities. He would react with some self-deprecating remark and get a bigger laugh for making fun of his shitty joke. Basically, when Johnny was in trouble he was at his best. His reactions were what made him so loved.

His most famous reaction-style comedy was probably the tomahawk demonstration. I think this was one of the longest sustained audience laughs in history—which, sadly, the video cuts off. I think it was 4 minutes total.

Johnny was also a very good interviewer in the sense that he knew when to give people space. He didn't try to compete with all the funny people he invited on. He was a comedy support system and only stepped in when things went off the rails.

There were also his masterful softballs. (Sorry, I should explain I came up with my own comedy terms. They may or may not be actual comedy parlance.)

A softball is an easy setup for a joke (large balls are easier to hit). A conversational premise without a punchline. If you are riffing with another comedian and you know their strengths, you can set them up for a joke and let them take the punchline. This is a thankless comedy skill because you are giving away the glory to someone else. But being good at softballs often takes more creativity and skill than coming up with the punchline. Johnny knew he was speaking with some of the funniest people on the planet. And their success was his success. So he was always happy to set people up for hilarity.

Johnny was also a good sport. His friends would come on and make fun of him and he often laughed the loudest of anyone. Or pretended to be hurt for extra laughs. Rich Little and Tom Smothers would do impressions of Johnny in front of Johnny. I think this helped popularize the Friar's Club roasts around that time, of which Johnny was a roastee.

Johnny got along with everyone. I think the most endearing thing about his Tonight Show was that he was just trying to make sure everyone had a good time. It was fun. It was chill. It was comfort after a long day, like a television version of a warm hug. Many people would joke that is how they fell asleep each night.

There was one aspect of his show I have mixed feelings about. Johnny started the career of almost every comedian performing in the 80s. He would invite the new comics on the scene to do their "tight 5" toward the end of the show. It was a poorly kept secret that if he invited them to "the couch" for an interview, they were in. He was christening them a comedy star. Robin Williams, Ellen DeGeneres, Louie Anderson, Roseanne Barr, Jay Leno, David Letterman, Steven Wright, David Brenner, Drew Carey, Garry Shandling, Eddie Murphy.

And we can't forget Yakov Smirnoff.

Johnny was basically the all-powerful comedy judge. It was seen as a huge honor to be invited to the couch. But if you had a bad night or a bad audience or just weren't ready, that could end or set back your career in a huge way.

You either got a sitcom or a job at McDonald's.

Jay Leno

Jay was known as a very good road comedian. He was a very hard worker who would perform *anywhere* just to get experience. He performed at strip clubs and crappy hotel bars and those weird corporate events where you have to come up with jokes for vacuum salesman or mortgage analysts. You have to use hyperspecific industry terms and include employees in the audience. John Mulaney recently made the news for one of these gigs.

Actually, let me give corporate comedy writing a try...

"Vacuum salesmen are the only ones who can start their pitch with how much their product sucks.

Suction, am I right, fellas? Good suction sells itself. Bob's wife knows what I'm talking about. She can hit 20 kPa, easy. Heyoooo!

She's still no Miele C3 canister vacuum with included HEPA filtration. That thing has more new attachments than the CEO's hair.

Your plugs aren't fooling anyone, Steve!"

Though Jay started out working mostly clean, so I'm not sure he would have rated the suction of Bob's wife in kilopascals. Working clean meant he could do his act just about anywhere. But don't confuse him with a "clean" comedian.

Froggie Comedy Tangent

A comedian who happens to work clean can be funny. But a "clean comedian" will make you wonder how you are suddenly in Branson sitting next to a youth pastor and his flock. If they specifically brand themselves as "clean," you're just going to get thinly veiled (or blatant) conservative comedy. It will technically be apolitical, but all the subtext is MAGA.

I call it "I remember that" comedy. Because every laugh is derived from "Hey, that's that thing I know! I remember that!"

There is a thing called "Dry Bar Comedy" and their entire deal is inviting clean comedians to do shows. The non-drunk audiences (Get it? DRY bar) are laughing their heads off and it is so confusing.

I keep going "Wait, when did he tell a joke?"

They don't have to tell jokes!

They just have to talk about the "good old days" and people will be like, "I remember Cabbage Patch Kids!" and laugh at something resembling a punchline. Or sometimes there isn't a punchline—just a declarative statement that sort of goes up at the end.

I could have a lucrative comedy career just saying things like, "Do you remember G.I. Joe? I sure do miss when toys didn't have pronouns."

*uproarious laughter*

Almost every comedian that performs at the Dry Bar has a bit about spanking and ADHD.

"Kids these days have it easy. If you talk back to your daddy, you get a time out. Can you believe that? When I talked back to my dad, he made me pick out my own switch!"

*uproarious laughter*

"We didn't have ADD back then. We just had misbehaving children and a belt."

*uproarious laughter*

Comedians like Jerry Seinfeld and Jay Leno worked clean but it wasn't a moral thing. It just wasn't necessary for their material and was more marketable for gigs. They told real jokes with a premise and a punchline. They did the work and earned their laughs.

END OF TANGENT

It's weird to think Jay was once a respected and talented stand-up. Looking back, his material was... jokes for your dad. That's the best I can describe it. Not dad jokes, but jokes dads liked. Clever observations that would make dads go, "It do be like that!" Not really my thing, but he was good at it and he still draws decent crowds to this day. I mean, they all need walkers to get into the theater, but he packs the place with geriatrics wanting to laugh at Monica Lewinsky and OJ Simpson like the old days. Spoiler, Monica was a slut and Jay thinks OJ did it.

Jay did an adequate job on The Tonight Show. He was an okay interviewer and guests felt safe going on. They knew he wasn't going to talk about anything too embarrassing (with one major exception being Hugh Grant after he was caught with a sex worker).

Jay relied on bits that he knew worked and never really strayed once he had a working formula. He would read funny headlines. He would do his "Jaywalking" remotes where he found stupid people and used deceptive editing to make it seem like everyone he talked to was that stupid. Jay is really into things showing the decline of America in relation to the WWII generation.

Jay was the status quo comedian. He never really had "moments" that stood out and became legendary. Johnny had an entire DVD business just selling old clips from his Tonight Show. They were filled with moments that were so spontaneously and authentically hilarious that they stood the test of time. But trying to find a "greatest hits" compilation of Jay Leno's run will just leave you bored.

If you search YouTube for Jay's best moments, you just get a bunch of his "Headlines" segments. He's literally just reading clips from the newspaper.

As I mentioned in my other post, when he isn't in comedian mode, Jay Leno seems like a decent guy. He treated his staff very well and his work as a car historian is near academic level. When you hear him talk about old cars you feel like you are spending a weekend with your grandpa. So Jay's mean spirited monologues just seemed out of place and I think looking back, they ruined any chance he had at a legacy.

He just took cheap shots at celebrities and politicians and people in the news. And he did it relentlessly whether people deserved it or not.

Yes, every host at the time did this. But Dave felt like he was going through the motions and doing the monologue just because it was part of the format. His heart wasn't in it and he much preferred bantering with Paul Schaffer in the band than telling jokes about celebrities he doesn't actually care about. He was more interested in getting to the desk and doing his "real" comedy.

And Conan's jokes about celebrities were more silly than mean. He'd make fun of Tom Cruise or someone and then do the string dance.

But Jay would go dark. He had a smile on his face and it sounded like he was "just joking" but after hearing about Monica Lewinsky's story, Jay Leno's "just joking" was different. I remember Jay Leno making fun of that poor woman who had McDonald's coffee burn her vagina off. He probably got a few months of jokes out of that. He was such a nice guy outside of his comedy and looking back it seemed so out of place. But I think he did cheap shots because it was an easy laugh and he figured the famous weren't "real people."

If Jay was in head-to-toe denim, he was a solid dude.

If he was in a suit, he was an asshole.

Jay never stopped doing stand-up. You can catch a show this weekend if you want. Jay really likes to pepper in some classic 90s jokes about celebrities we have mostly forgotten. As I mentioned in my other post, I've heard him do Monica Lewinsky jokes as recent as 2019. They aren't part of his written material. They are usually ad-libs and callbacks. Like if Jay was fixing a car and someone said, "We need to suck the air out of these tires." There is a 90% chance Jay would respond, "Boy, where's Monica when you need her?"

He still does the "jokes your dad would like" material in his personal act. But they are much more like his Tonight Show monologues than his old stand-up. Easy jokes without much thought. Instead of his classic clever observations, he mostly complains about modernity, ad nauseam.

Actual joke...

"Have you seen these phones on your wrist? And you thought BUTT DIALING was bad!"

Get it? He's saying people are masturbating and accidentally calling people. Which completely misunderstands... no one talks on the phone, Jay. It's 2025 and we all have anxiety. Maybe you could do wank texting?

Okay, Jay. How about this as a joke, complete with a 90s reference...

"Have you seen these people wearing phones on their wrists? I guess they finally solved butt dialing!

But after they see a sexy picture of Cindy Crawford, Apple tells them they have 30,000 steps for the day!"

A famous fun fact is that he never spent any of his Tonight Show money. He lives off the interest and income doing stand-up. While he was host of The Tonight Show he still did stand-up just about every weekend. *I* think that *he* thinks that gives him working class cred despite his enormous wealth and caravan of supercars.

I'm glad his money allowed him to become the world's greatest car historian. I'm happy there is someone like him doing proper car conservation. His restoration of the Chrysler turbine car was fantastic. That is a neat piece of engineering and car history.

Jay never had a sex scandal and seems to love his wife. He's taking care of her as she battles dementia. I do feel sorry he is going through that.

Those are the nice things I can say about him.

But I think Monica Lewinsky and Conan O'Brien should be allowed one giant kick in the nuts.

David Letterman

Conan O'Brien wasn't the first person Jay Leno screwed over with The Tonight Show. David Letterman was actually Johnny Carson's favorite guest host. But he was quirky and experimental. The network liked Jay Leno's safer style.

It was a big controversy at the time and they even made a weird movie about it called The Late Shift. Pretty much every person portrayed claims it is horribly inaccurate. The actors they cast looked like when you draw from memory.

The big joke at the time was about the ridiculous chin prosthetic. Did you know Jay has a sizeable chin? Let's get Stan Winston away from Terminator 2 to make this bigass chin.

Dave started out as a TV weatherman. But once he got popular doing stand-up, they gave him a morning show. They tried to make him Regis Philbin. But he sucked at being Regis. Only Regis could be that excitable in the morning. Dave wasn't really a "morning" comedy guy so that was quickly cancelled.

In 1982, he got the Late Night show at 12:30am after Carson on NBC. No one paid much attention to him and he realized that. I think that excited him and he was just like...

Dave and his team created some of the most experimental comedy on broadcast TV up until that point. He was basically unsupervised in a comedy laboratory for over a decade.

He wore an Alka Seltzer suit and dunked himself in water.

He wore a Velcro suit and hurled himself against a wall.

Looking back I'm realizing he did a lot of suit based humor.

He had a very long running gag with character actor Calvert DeForest who Dave called Larry "Bud" Melman. He was a bit like a sidekick.

Calvert was this cute old man and would literally do *anything* Dave and the writers asked. He had no fear. He had no shame. He would often go to random places and interview people. But he was really bad at following the scripted material and would get confused and forget the jokes. He didn't understand how microphones worked. Any segment with him would go off the rails because he never quite understood the premise. Dave loved this tiny, elderly ball of chaos. The trainwreck was the joke.

Dave helped Super Dave Osbourne get his incompetent daredevil schtick out there. He let Andy Kaufman get in a fight with someone and no one could tell if it was a bit. (10:30)

Johnny and Jay's Tonight Show was where all the normie comedians went to get their big break. Dave was where the weirdos flocked to. And some of them were terrible, but they were *always* fascinating. I don't think Frank Zappa would have his cult following without Dave.

Dave was the first to regularly do "remote" humor where he'd just go out into the world and get into trouble with real people. The segments were great but Dave struggled with social anxiety. So that eventually evolved into Dave hiding in a van and making a Chinese-American deli owner named Rupert Jee repeat awkward things said in a hidden earpiece.

Dave's interview style was erratic. He was a very good host as long as he liked his guest. He loved having a real conversation with a fascinating person. He rivaled Craig Ferguson when those conditions were present. But if he didn't care for them, things would either get very awkward or very boring.

He didn't like pop celebrities who didn't have genuine talent. Paris Hilton or Kim Kardashian would have driven him nuts and he would purposely seem bored when interviewing someone like that. Dave had trouble "faking it." And instead of Jimmy Fallon's cringe fake laughter, Dave would just appear utterly uninterested.

But if he didn't like someone and chose awkward over boring... hoo boy... it was *really* awkward. And Dave relished in the discomfort.

Madonna (who Dave acknowledged as genuinely talented) was unhappy about his monologue jokes. Essentially he alluded to her being a bit of a slut. It was typical Late Night comedy fodder at the time. I'm not endorsing it, I'm just saying everyone did it and society didn't have a problem with it at the time. She released a book about sex called... "Sex." Then she released an artistic softcore black and white erotic music video that most people felt was... more strange than sexy. She just kinda talk-singed to the same loop and made out with a dude while clips of a dancer in full body spandex came out of nowhere.

The Wayne's World parody was much better and somehow less weird.

Needless to say, people made fun of this pivot to weird erotic art.

In any case, Dave had Madonna on and she turned the weird up to 11. I think she was trying to get back at Dave, but it had the opposite effect. He saw where things were going and he just kinda... "let her cook."

He was delighted to watch the train wreck unfold.

I mean, she was right. She was being slut shamed—by everyone, not just Dave. But she was so overtly odd that it was hard for people to hear that conversation within the chaos. And the only thing the mainstream news cared about was her potty mouth.

On the other hand, he liked Drew Barrymore a lot. Drew was a very good actress and she was charming and funny. She was just as weird as Madonna, but it was not oppressively weird.

I think Dave saw her more as a daughter figure. Or maybe he wanted to and was ashamed he wasn't successful? Or she made it difficult for him to be a father figure? Because she saw him as a... umm... daddy figure? He enjoyed her company but was uncomfortable with her affection, so her interview was awkward in a different way. This was especially famous because she ended up flashing him for his birthday.

Dave was complicated. He was a former alcoholic. He suffered from social anxiety while having the world's most social job. He was the most private public figure you could imagine. He managed to have a sex scandal that no one seems to know about or talk about. He was involved with his personal assistant who regularly appeared on the show. Then her roommate tried to blackmail Dave for two million dollars by threatening to expose the affair. Dave decided to just fess up and helped the authorities with a sting operation to catch the extortionist.

Dave was self-conscious and neurotic. I don't think he liked himself for a very long time. Which is probably why he tried to blow up his life and family. But he loved his son and once that love took hold he seemed to get his shit together. He seemed like a different person. I liked Dave's comedy much more when his life was a hot mess. But I liked Dave as a person much more when he started choosing good behaviors. Much like Jimmy Kimmel, family seemed to make him a better person.

Dave pushed the late night format to the limit and inspired an entire generation of comedians. He encouraged them to try risky things and experiment and became the comedy mentor that Jay Leno wishes he was.

Also he loved his mom and sent her to the Olympics and it was the cutest thing ever.

I'm a sucker for people who love their moms.

Conan O'Brien

Conan was my comedy idol. If you have followed my comedy over the years, you might have noticed a similar embrace of... intelligent silliness.

Stupid smart?

He was a magna cum laude Harvard graduate and a clown without the makeup. He was originally a comedy writer and head of the famous Harvard Lampoon humor magazine. He went on to write for The Simpsons and SNL.

He wrote that monorail episode.

Every Conan fan who wants to share a fun fact will make sure you know he wrote the monorail episode. Kumail Nanjiani did a great bit about this during Conan's Mark Twain Prize ceremony (it's on Netflix).

After Jay took over The Tonight Show and Dave gave NBC the finger and left for CBS, the "Late Night" slot needed a new host. And Lorne Michaels decided this pale redheaded giant from the SNL writing staff might be a good choice. No one had any clue who he was. No one had any confidence in his success—including Conan.

And the only person who saw a spark of genius was... David Letterman. (2:20)

Conan just started cranking out as much weird comedy as he could. The Masturbating Bear, Pimpbot 5000, FedEx Pope. There was a pooping robot at some point.

They had a sizeable robot budget.

He was the true spiritual successor to Dave's 80s Late Night show. By this time Dave mellowed out and didn't have the motivation and hunger to innovate like he used to. So Conan filled that role.

I think the reason Conan appealed to me specifically was because I saw a lot of myself in him. I was good at a lot of different styles of comedy—I had this almost shapeshifting ability to customize my humor to the person or audience I was entertaining. But eventually I decided I just wanted to make people feel good. I had to pick a style and stick with it. I wanted to make comedy comfort food that wasn't dumbed down or patronizing. It could be stupid and corny but I didn't want my audience to feel like they were stupid for liking it.

I don't know if I'm making any sense.

Conan was a genuinely nice guy and a constant people pleaser. He didn't have an edge and he didn't need one. He could do innovative comedy without punching down, without trying to push any offensive lines, without saying fucked up shit just to see if he could get away with it.

I'm not even knocking comedians who are skilled at dancing on the line. Some of my favorites of all time played with the line. Lenny Bruce, Richard Pryor, George Carlin, Chris Rock.

Louis CK and Dave Chappelle before they...

*heavy sigh*

But so many comedians at the time thought that was an easy path to success. They didn't realize you had to be incredibly funny in order to stand next to or jump over the line. You had to compensate with amazing jokes to get away with it. But that takes effort and talent and finesse. They preferred laziness and brute forcing edgelord material.

And that is how we got a gaggle of Joe Rogans.

Hmm, we need a better collective noun.

That is how we got an ivermectin of Joe Rogans.

Conan was unapologetically silly. But it had this foundation of intelligence in the subtext. And every once in a while, he'd let an Abe Lincoln fun fact slip out (he could be a legit Lincoln historian if he wanted to). He made comedy for smart people who needed to turn down the volume of their brain for a bit.

Thinking is exhausting sometimes, but you can't shut it off completely.

Conan struggled for several years to find an audience. I think he was on the verge of cancellation every few weeks. I watched him every night from the first show. I started to see what Letterman saw. It was really neat to watch him learn and grow. He taught me that comedy was a journey. And eventually people found him and loved him and the rest is history.

My favorite running gag was definitely the Walker Texas Ranger lever. He'd randomly pull a big red lever and all it did was play a clip from the show. Everyone knows the Haley Joel Osment AIDS clip, but that was not my favorite. (2:40)

Walker was an egalitarian karate pugilist.

It was such a brilliant bit that relied on Conan's setup and reaction. If he just played the clip without the antics, it would not hit as hard. It would be Jay Leno reading the newspaper.

And... I don't have the energy to fully explain Jordan Schlansky.

I wouldn't even know where to start.

The short version is... Conan doesn't quite know how to handle intense nerdy metrosexual autism and hilarity ensues.

I encourage you to go down the Jordan Schlansky rabbit hole. I promise you will start watching and suddenly it will be tomorrow and you'll look at the clock and not be sure if it is AM or PM. If you are wondering, yes, he is really like that. But he pretends not to be self aware to make it funnier.

And then there is Sona. Conan's Armenian assistant who doesn't do a lot of assisting. They are basically siblings. You can tell she became part of his emotional support system. At times she matched Conan's comedic brilliance without any experience or training. She has perfect timing and can hilariously devastate his self esteem like an emotional assassin. (2:45)

There is so much more, but you get the idea.

Conan is a brilliant, silly comedian. And he is a solid dude. Just like Leno, his staff stuck with him. He was a great boss that inspired fierce loyalty. They even moved from New York to Los Angeles for him. And when he lost The Tonight Show he started his own company just so he could keep everyone employed and paid. That eventually evolved into his successful Team Coco podcast network.

Before his TBS show, Conan was contractually obligated to not appear on television for a year. He went on a grueling tour across the country performing a live comedy musical variety show. This was mostly to maintain his staff until they could find a new TV home.

They made a documentary "Conan O'Brien Can't Stop" about this live variety show. Some people thought this revealed Conan to be a bit of a dick. But he just lost his dream job, his entire staff had no source of income, and he was going from city to city working 18 hour days, including a 2 hour, high energy stage show—all while trying to stave off his deep depression. (Also Jack McBrayer was an old friend, and that was an ongoing bit between them.)

I don't think I've seen Conan that vulnerable and that human and you could see his staff doing their best to keep him from imploding. He felt responsible for the livelihoods of hundreds of people. They loved him and knew he was doing it for them.

(And because he needs constant attention and validation, but what comedian doesn't?)

To end things I think I'd like to try one of my comedy exercises.

I'm going to do a Top 7½ list in the style of David Letterman Bob the Frog. I can only promise junior high level comedy.

(Also, if you have never seen Dave do one of these, number 1 always has a drumroll and is purposely bad.)

Top 7½ signs you are in a "clean" comedy club.

7½. The headlining comedian was cancelled for...

7. You ask for the drink specials and the waitress says they might have Diet Sprite in the back.

6. The comic was once ratio'd on Twitter after being called "Temu Jeff Foxworthy."

5. "Back in my day we had Transformers not transgenders. The Autobots' pronouns were roll/out."

4. The comic takes off his belt, holds it up to the crowd and says, "This was what we called Ritalin in the 80s."

3. Your seat has a gun holster next to the cup holder.

2. The comic assures everyone that he "found God" so there is no reason to google his name and "me too."

*drumroll*

Annnnd, the number 1 sign you may be in a clean comedy club is...

1. Thursday is "Free Tennis Balls for Your Walker Night!"

[simp-ly-writes]

Friend of the Captain (pt.2)

Pairing: Edward "Eddie" Horniman x afab!Reader

Summary: Years had past since you had last seen Eddie. Doctor, CEO and soon to be girlfriend of another man. You end up seeing him at Freddy and Tammy's wedding yet other forces keep pulling your both away from admitting to your feelings. What will it take for one of you to see the truth?- as Charlotte ever so indelicately puts it.

Warnings: 3755 words, utter jealousy, language, and light teasing, angst to potential fluff and lots and lots of pining.

A/N: I have watched an unhealthy amount of edits while on dinner break- I must be stopped (gods i'm supposed to be on break!)- this is way longer than I was expecting it to be, perhaps even a part three...

Masterlist | Taglist | somewhat un-edited.

(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3)

↳ Years had past since you had last seen Edward. You still kept in contact with his siblings and his mother, of course. Lady Sabrina refused to let you go- often sending various treats and letters towards your family's estate, you called her ever other week with updates to your studies, travels, and love life. Your mother teasingly voiced her jealousy towards her best friend choosing her own daughter over her best friend.

↳ You often joined the older ladies out for a dinner or lunch with Charlotte tagging along when she was not in school (yet you would never tell Charlotte's parents otherwise to you signing her out as a trusted guardian and taking her even out of the country some weekends). Clicking your glasses together while looking down upon the busy London streets, you smirked seeing someone wearing a piece of yours from across the street.

Tugging at your mothers dress-sleeve she trued around in her seat, grasping your hand in a tight squeeze of excitement and pride as her wrist glittered in your newest bracelet collection. After finishing your PHD of Business Administration you took a fake name to hide your identity for the public and papers for as long as you could. You often blushed now- seeing your face on gossip articles with your date of the evening.

Dinner tonight was a celebration of your recent contract with an up-and-coming movie star- he would be wearing your necklaces on the red carpet by the end of the week. A bottle of bubbly, bubbled your laughter to the surface as they all screamed in your ear, jumping up and down and clapping their hands in the restaurant as you ducked your head, trying to stray away from the attention.

↳ Unknowing to you though is that your's and Edward's mother collected all the gossip magazines, continuing their bet as Sabrinas heart fell every time you looked so in love with your new partner. Charlotte would often make side comments about your "slut era" she called it as you knocked her shoulder with your own, rolling your eyes before your mother swatted your shoulder at the dinner table and insisted on maintaining appearances in the public eye.

--

↳ When inside your studio-office space, drafting up new designs with your creative team. You spun around of your chair and became shocked when you eventually rolled back around to find a wax-sealed envelope with the Halstead crest so beautifully stamped. Peeling away the wax as carefully as you could, the thick, textured paper settled nicely between our hands as you read through the invitation. Tears beginning to well in your eyes before you were squealing in Freddy's ear through the desk-phone as he winced and handed the phone over to Tammy. Both laughing over your childish excitement to their own wedding.

↳ You called the brainstorming off early, rushing to help Tammy find just the right dress later that afternoon as she thanked you for assisting with the wedding planing (already fed up with Lady Sabrina's input into the event- though she was funding a large portion of it due to Freddys... interesting resume).

↳ Wedding dress shopping happened later that spring as you teared up seeing the woman in white. Helping her into your exclusively design accessories and veil. Later that day, you third-wheeled the couple during cake testing- eating double of your weight in sweets as your teeth ached afterwards.

↳ During the bridal party. You all got dressed up in small red dresses and matching heels as you style one another's hair and got your nails done for the evening. You all went to a bar to start of the week strong, you had never felt so carefree and young after the countless sleepless nights of being a CEO and Doctorate student- you really let yourself go that night. Waking up in the bed of a stranger who wrapped their muscled arm over your waist.

Trying to wiggle your way out of their grip and find your various articles of clothing spread round the downtown flat, you ended up stealing one of their shirts- not bothering to look at the design plastered on the front as you placed your phone on to charge and started breakfast.

The oven dinged, the eggs were done as you put out a spread across the countertop before doing a light clean of last nights activities- doing your best to put away things where you thought they belonged and were stopped halfway by an arm pulling you back into their chest and placing a kiss against your forehead, "thank you, love. Didn't have to do any of this at all- I appreciate it very much."

A blush spread over your cheeks as you led them towards the still hots plates and ate together. There name was William from your foggy memories of last night. By the groaning the man in front of you was excepting while pouring himself a coffee, he seemed as well wasted as you were.

"Can I get you any Advil or orange juice?" William asks, placing a coffee in front of you with a smile as you wipe your mouth and take a small sip. "No, I'm alright." When washing up the dishes together, he offered to place your things in the wash while making small talk throughout and even going for a round three later that morning.

Becoming lost in the bubble you both formed for yourselves, hands casting through the short strands of dirty blonde hair that tickled your palms. Your heart dropped in the slightest bit when his phone rang as a show you were both listening to in the background was paused. He whispered a sorry towards you, patting your knee before taking a stand and walking over to the bedroom, you could only hear the start to the conversation, "Captain, everythin' alright?"

Deeming yourself overstaying your welcome, you walked towards the hall bathroom, preparing yourself for the next day and left a small note with your name attached, softly shutting the door behind you before leaning your forehead against it. A stupid smile showing itself across your features as your hands drifted through your contacts, landing on Charlottes picture as it dinged for a few moments.

"Girl, where the fuck have you been since last night?"

"I think I'm in love Char," you stated while the elevator doors closed behind you and the busy city streets awaited you.

--

↳ In the remaining days of the bridal party, you all rented out a vineyard, playing various lawn games with sunbathing by the pool. You subconsciously looked up towards the glass doors of the modern home- unknowing of what you were expecting before returning to your book, humming along to the radio as Tammy splashed you with her dive. Drawing a quick 10 score on your phones notes app and presenting it to her, Charlotte snorted and did a dive of her own as you all laughed and enjoyed the warm weather.

--

↳ Your did frown later that night when William had yet to text you, throwing your phone onto the bed. You really have to get yourself together, you thought to yourself- waiting here on some guy... some guy that treated me fairly. And in this day and age, it was a rare sight to find. Charlotte had already given you a major thumbs up as did the rest of your university friends and some of the past boyfriends you still kept in contact with. They all approved.

↳ Looking into your suitcase, you picked up Williams freshly washed shirt- you had forgotten to return it as your head drifted towards your phone. A perfect excuse to see him once more, your fingers drifted over the keys, breath paused on the send button before tapping the green arrow in a split second. Your adrenaline soared as you ruffled your hair, huffing out and looking at the shirt once more.

Your fingers drifted over the warn edges, pausing at the left breast pocket before your eyes went wide in shock. Displayed was the same coat of arms as Eddies regiment, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK. Was all you could think, hands now gripping at your roots as that text now burred your phone and your mind. It was the night before the wedding at by the looks of it, you were going to be up with your thoughts.

--

↳ The day of the wedding at arrived, you smoothed out your dress as you waited in front of the large wooden doors to the Halstead estate. The wedding was being held in the gardens- now in full bloom as the first week of summer sprang into season. The blush pink complimented your rosy cheeks as you sweated lightly in the blissful heat, everyone had already been partnered up and as the maid of honour- you were more than worried that Freddy's best man had yet to appear

Much to your shock, Edward slowed his steps, feet tripping over the blood red rug beneath your feet as he stumbled to a straight stand by your side. He dropped his gaze down towards your shoes, taking a long drag up of your form before casting you a charming smile. The voices around you soon became muffled as your gaze fell onto his broad shoulders, the scar against his chin and you wondered if the scar you left from throwing a rock at his head while children's was still behind his ear in the same place you remembered it to be.

He wore a navy suit, crisp white shirt underneath as his tie held small pink flowers- perfectly matching your dress. He picked up your hand, maintaining eye contact as he pressed a light kiss to your gloved hand. You were ever-so thankful for purchasing the matching gloves in this moment, holding that the material hid your light shakes from his reassuring hold. His hand soon slipped up your arm. Breath hitching as strings began to play in the background.

His fingers drifted to the skin left uncovered by your tall gloves and dresses arm before looping his arm with your own. The doors soon opened as you both faced forward, smiles plastered on brightly as you walked in perfect rhythm down the isle. You looked towards one another, a few gasps being hear distantly in the crowd yet you couldn't bring your eyes to see where the sound came from. Arms dropping as you continued separately to your respective sides.

Looking up towards the clear blue skies, letting out a breath, your gaze turned to find Freddy looking at you, soft smile on his face as he gave you a singular nod before turning to his wife who began her walk down the isle. You took her bouquet, tears streaming down your eyes as you silently sobbed in happiness for the couple.

You clapped when they kissed, cheered as Freddy dipped her as Lady Sabrina tossed a comment on their outrageous display yet you haded her the bouquet as she shut her mouth abruptly, turning quickly behind to stare at your mother who was already watching as you and Eddie walked down the isle, arm and arm. Your gaze solely focused on the couple, unknowing to the man on your arm who stared at you the whole time- enamoured by your happiness as another stood in the back isle's, rose in hand they stole from the gardens as they waited for the festivities to start.

--

↳ As the first dance had finished and the cake had been cut, the DJ started to turn on the selected playlist and you headed straight to the bar in order to hug the newly weds who had a mission of getting absolutely wasted by the end of the night. After chatting with them for a few moments, a cough from behind you has your eyes going wide as does everyone else in the general area who stops to watch

You pause, drink slipping through your fingers as they catch it just in time with a smirk. "Hello, love," William speaks in hushed tones, knowing of the curious glances around you. Your eyes fly across the white warm-event weather uniform he wears. The sharp colour of his blue pants matching his eyes as your mouth soon falls agape. He takes a hand, lightly underneath your chin as he closes your mouth, pressing a kiss to the side of your lips.

Your eye's drift over to his shoulder, looking at his rank as you return a kiss to his cheek in greeting, now taking the barstool behind you as he leans against the bar top, taking his hat off and setting it between you. "Why hello there, Lieutenant," you say before taking a sip of your drink to gain some liquid courage as the eyes around you both begin to turn back to their personal conversations.

"You know my rank?" he questions with a raised brow as you shrug your shoulders. "Have close friends in the military as well, memorized all that chest candy," you state, eyes now darting across the metals he displays. Williams chuckles, ordering himself a drink as the bartender nods in confirmation as you both ease into conversation with one another.

--

↳ Eddie currently talks with his family as Freddy perks his interest. "Did you see that guy she's been talking to at the bar?- dude is seriously laying it on thick." Freddy rolls his eyes as you throw your head back in laughter, hand pressed against the white uniform as the man looks down to your touch with another teeth-filled smile. Charlotte shrugs, stealing a sip of Eddies drink as their mother quickly steals the wine glass from her and returns it to Eddies open hand who tries to peer over Freddys shoulder as he continues on and on about the bachelor party he had.

Eddies eyes go wide, seeing the white uniform, seeing you pressed up against another mans chest as he spins you lightly, eyeing you up and down and how your dress twirls at your feet as you get both of your glass topped off once more. His gaze hardens as he catches Williams face, his arm drifting around your waist, mouth pressed to your ear as he kisses your skin teasingly- eyes darting towards the door as you look up at him through your lashes.

Eddie's hands turn into fists, his eyebrows furrowed as he starts to take a step forward yet Freddy still mindlessly talks as nobody is now listening as Charlotte begins to fill their mother in as she looks towards her son with concern. Hand ghosting on his arm that he has yet to take notice of. He watches as you bite your lip, pulling at his collar as you trace the seams of his uniform. Eddie lets out a sharp breath of air as he seems your lipstick begin to stain his skin, his mothers hand now tight against his arm as he stares down at it.

Charlotte shakes her hand, Sabrina now walking away to talk to your mother sat in the corner conversing with Tammy's parents. Freddy had finally taken notice of the lack of attention, returning to his wife's side as they stole bites from the cake before the official cutting. When Eddie turns back to see where you went, the bar is empty the door swinging closed as he speedily walks towards the hall only to find it empty both ways. As he begins to walk, a cough has him turning around to find Charlotte taking off her heels as she leans against the wall next to a suit of armour.

"Thought that you two were not together, no feelings right?" she presses, gaze determined as she slips off the last of her heels and begins to walk towards her brother who's shoulders only rise in their tensed form. He shakes himself off as she stands directly in front of him, shaking off his suit as he adjusts his suit-cuffs. "No, still is the case- just worried for my childhood friend is all."

"Alright, then..." Charlotte takes notice as his eyes keep darting back down the hall behind her, hope and hatred bleeding through his eyes as she smirk's, going in for the jab. "...If thats all you care about, he's a good man- that not right Captain?- They fucked a few times..." Charlotte presses her heels into her brothers chest as he keeps them there. His sister signals him to follow her outside as they begin to stroll towards the gardens all those Christmas's ago.

"She even told me she's in love with him-"

"What?" Edward asks in a breathy tone, his heart dropping as his sister continues walking further into the gardens and towards the centre fountain. "I warned you before Edwina, she's too good to have to wait so others take action. You had your time with her it seems, now it is time for someone else to take your place." She ends with a bittersweet smile. "You know... I always hoped she would become my actual sister- mom too but a best friend is better than nothing at all, right?"

The sharpness of her words twists itself deep in Edwards heart as he staggers, shoes dropped to the gravel beneath his feet, hands clenching at his tie that now seems too tight, his breathing laboured as he starts to see blood flashing on his hand and across his face. He hears your laughter filling his ears, the smell of your conditioner flooding his nose as it drifts off with the evening air.

--

↳ When Eddie returns to his work on boarder patrol, checking various people and their cars through the checkpoint. He enters the change-room at the end of every night, giving a nod and handing off his gun towards another officer who would be taking over the night patrol that evening.

↳ He often see's William changing as he enters, his shift ending 30 minutes before his own. He looks at the mans back, the angry red ail marks clawing their way up to his shoulders as the muscles his his back flex when a shirt covers up majority of the markings yet this shirt is old and warn. Having lost a great deal of his green colour, now a muted muddy colour as the neck hands low.

↳ Edward see's the the hickeys you undoubtedly left across his collarbones and neck, he recognizes that bite from the occasional moment you both shared as teenagers. William nods towards his superior officer outside of working hours. Picking up his jacket before moving to the sleeping quarters. Eddie sits on the centre bench, elbows against his knees, hands in his head as he grips and tugs at his hair. Frustration eating him alive as he imagines your touch, your lips against his own, the taste of your skin-

↳ Every day the same, every vacation time taken at a similar point as he notices a year afterwards the diamond ring hanging off Williams dog tags. He constant has been looking at it underneath his uniform throughout shifts, smiling before his mask returns as another car pulls forward. Eddies brain was struggling to come to cope with the images of that small ring hanging off Williams neck. He cursed himself alive as Freddy punched him square across the face when he drunkly ranted towards his brother a weekend he spent back home

↳ When he returned back to base, the ring he had around his dog tags was gone. William nodded towards the Captain as usual, that little display now irking him- pouring more fire into the gaping wound he sustained as the lieutenant paused. Face turning over his shoulder as eh spoke out into the empty change room, "I have been requested by management to switch towards the front lines... It has been a pleasure working with you sir. I wish you the best."

"Thank you, William. Do take care of her," Eddie states, looking at him square in the eyes. "Till the day she loves me no longer and afterwards," William promises before gently closing the door behind himself. Eddie does now feel himself crying before he calls his mother, not saying a word as he cries, she cries, as he can feel his fathers disappointment, his sisters distaste, and Eddies side remarks.

↳ But why stop at that? Eddie was soon being called back for your engagement photo, he glared at the ring on your finger. It's small for a jeweller, he thinks to himself yet had already bought the ticket, a gift and written a card voicing his congratulations to you both.

--

↳ Edward was beyond confused to walk into the empty venue space a few months later. Handmade stars hug above his head, a tray of champagne by his feet as the lights were dimmed, the afternoon sun finding its way through the blinds casting patterns onto the hardwood floors beneath. In his steps, the floors creaked as your tearstained face meet his eyes. He walked faster, taking a kneel beside you as you flung yourself into his chest as he dropped the gift, kicking it aside and held you tightly to himself. Hands beginning to drift through your hair as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

He felt your tears staining his sweater, the rapid spikes of your shoulders as you sharply breathed between sobs. "H-He, He cheated on me! I fuckin' love another man and he cheats on me!" you wail, shaking your head into his neck as he rubs your back. Eddie holds himself from question the slight hope at, love another man.

"I am sorry to hear that darling, you are the most underserving person of such treatment I know. Downright motherfucker," Eddie whispers into your hair before you fall backwards, tugging Eddie by his shoulders to join you laying on the floors. You both stare up into the various stars coating the ceiling as you squeeze your hand in his own larger one.

A few moments pass as you listen to each other breathe in the empty room. Rain slowly begins to fall against the window panes as you turn your head to already find Eddie look at you with a soft smile. "Thank you, Eddie, for staying here with me... you're the best friend I could ever ask for," you speak out softly, hand resting on his cheek as he turns his head to kiss your palm.

"Always."

(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3)

↳ Taglist: @daffodilstark @leavemeslowly

[magnusbae]

Hi! What about "Can you stay with me?" (and if you'd like it my bonus prompt is "drunk") 💗

The initial draft was written while I was quite literally fainting late at night & the second one fully rewritten while I am dazed and out of it. I would say that I was method writing Obi-Wan who is indeed very much drunk in this one, dearest anon. Thank you for the prompt~ 😊💖

+++

Obikin || 4,004w || Drunk Obi-Wan is agonized by the prospect of his freshly knighted Padawan leaving him behind— and more. 😌 Some flavors of gentle lime in this drink, very light, very sweet. 🍋💖

▾▾▾

"Can you stay with me?"

Obi-Wan Kenobi sounds properly pathetic and he knows it. Grasping at Anakin’s Tabards as he is, mind swirling in hazy circles around the notion he was doing his very best to avoid thinking about for the past few months. It is not long now that Anakin would look at his Master and see him for what he really was. Perhaps even today. Inebriated as he is, he makes for a good serving of disillusionment. All Anakin needs to do is look, and see, and then…

It seems inevitable—his Padawan will leave.

Former Padawan. Anakin is no longer his Padawan, and that is the heart of it, isn’t it? The severed braid was the firs step. Them having each a battalion of their own, stationed light years away from each other with only the occasional joint mission, a second. The third and final step would be for Anakin to finally open his eyes and look, and see.

It won’t be hard to unveil the carefully crafted Jedi Master facade Obi-Wan had cultivated for the past decade. No, it won’t be hard at all. If Anakin were to stop glorifying him, stop shaping him to be what ever form of idol he had needed for while growing up, if only he were to take an unbiased look at him…

There will no longer be, Kenobi and Skywalker.

For the naked truth was, Anakin had outgrown him, had become more powerful and capable than his Master. There’s little left that Obi-Wan could still offer, still teach. He should be proud. The only one still refusing to see it, is Anakin himself. Once that revelation comes to pass however, it will be complete. A true break, as befitting the Jedi way. Obi-Wan finds no peace in the thought, no completion nor satisfaction in the successful completion of his Padawan’s training—a symbol of his own Mastery.

Not when it means losing him. Not then.

Given his state of drunkenness, words slurred and feet unsteady, he thinks that it’s worth putting to question whatever or not he was a good Jedi at all, least of all a Master. Try as he might, he finds it hard to ponder further. His choice to look inward is as always an avoidance, an escape. An easy detour from looking outward, from looking at Anakin. Anakin who’s eyes he can feel like a physical touch, boring into his very soul.

Obi-Wan’s avoidance is nearly as strong as Anakin’s natural magnetism. One is counseling him to avoid looking, save himself the pain of witnessing the exact moment in which the realization dawns upon the boy. The second, stronger still, demands his undivided attention on him, demands him to look. Demands him. 

Obi-Wan looks up, he meets those eyes, his demise.

Anakin’s eyes widen and he blinks, endless blue clearing as if coming out of some sort of shock.

“Can I—” Anakin splutters “—Obi-Wan, even if the council explicitly ordered me to go save the entire karkin universe just now, I wouldn’t be leaving your side— stars you’ve any idea what you look like right now?

Obi-Wan’s tongue is heavy but he parts his lips to answer, something clever to be sure, he always finds something to say.

“No, never mind.” Anakin cuts in before he could speak. There’s such decisiveness in his tone, such confidence. His former Padawan stands tall, his arms are strong and sure as he handles Obi-Wan closer, making him lean more of his weight against his chest. It’s broad and firm. Obi-Wan should not be noticing those things, should not be aware of those things. It is a further evidence that his Padawan is well and truly grown. Further evidence of his own failing as a Jedi, as a Master, as a…man. Obi-Wan should not be inhaling and smelling home. Should not be leaning closer, itching all over for more, more.

“You’re so wasted that I am surprised you’ve even recognized me at all.” Anakin continues talking, as if the universe is not shifting beneath Obi-Wan’s feet as it is him who finally looks with his gaze unbiased. “The drunken messages though, those you will be seeing tomorrow” there’s dark mirth in that dear voice. “I bet you wanted to send them to— someone else.” Anakin glances at him, eyes narrowed.

Obi-Wan’s offenses at Anakin’s assumption he could ever not recognize him dies over under his gaze, dark and rich, his eyes are captivating. Before Anakin, he did not know that a blue can hold such multitudes. Both the clear morning sky, and the moon lit sky. Beautiful. They loosens his tongue as well as any truth serum would. That or the bottle he had finished on his own finally soaked through.

“I will always—”  His voice comes out so thick that he coughs, starting Anakin from his dark contemplations, whichever those might be. His eyebrows furrow and he quickly snatches a cup of something clear off of a passing robo-waitress’s tray. Irritated with the distraction, Obi-Wan accepts it and drinks if only to make way for the words to follow. He will not let it go. Not now that he’d started. “I will always recognize you, Padawan Mine, drugged, beaten, or otherwise preoccupied— I will always—” “Drugged?!” Anakin cuts in again, arms tightening around Obi-Wan and strangling the annoyed huff at being cut again “You did not mention anything about being drugged, what the kark’ Obi-Wan?!”

Obi-Wan’s mouth is dry, similar to how being drugged would feel. His mind swims and all he sees is Anakin. There’s warmth in his chest, there’s a burn in his gut, there’s a tug in his— 

“It’s hard to tell” he says sheepishly, embarrassed, eyes straying away from Anakin’s strong jaw and up, up to the lights on the ceiling. He should not be thinking of how Anakin’s proximity is enough to replicate a strong drug. How out of orbit he feels around him as of late. “They all start the same, so…” 

Anakin is hardly listening. Instead he is surveying the club with a look of fury that is bordering on homicidal, freeing one hand to rest it on his lightsaber. There’s the distinct feeling of Anakin stretching his force signature out, covering the room, no doubt attempting to locate anyone within their proximity who might have dared drug his former Master. Oh if only he knew that he was the culprit all along. 

Obi-Wan snorts, finding an odd sense of humor in it.

Anakin’s gaze darts back to him, sharp and accusing. He looks so handsome under the colorful, dim lights. He looks so… 

“Ah-nakin.” Obi-Wan sighs out and shuts his eyes lest his spinning head forces him to sober up in the most un-jedi manner.  

“Stay with me,” the request comes so easy, what was it that he was so afraid of? It’s so easy, too easy. Frighteningly so, to reach and touch Anakin’s forearm. There’s skin beneath his touch, warm and human, tense muscles beneath. “Ah” Obi-Wan sighs out in realization. Anakin had rolled the sleeves, so very unofficial for a Jedi and yet so very Anakin of him.

Master Windu would have hated it. It wouldn’t surprise Obi-Wan if this was exact reason why Anakin did it to begin with, after all, he was most adept to handling heat and was not bothered by it even while all else were. Obi-Wan really should have reprimanded the boy more often, should have stopped Anakin from executing all those harmless little vendettas of his while growing up.

If only he did not find them to be so endearing, so amusing. If only he was a better Master, a proper Master. He would have. 

His brain is foggy and he had already forgotten what was it it that he had hoped to achieve by touching Anakin, only that his fingers are circling his wrist and touching the spot at which he can feel his life pulsing. What a terrible habit it is, being intoxicated while negotiating. You should only ever drink enough to appear drunk, never more. How is he to get what he wants, when he has no ideas what it was? 

Obi-Wan’s eyelids are heavy when he tries to blink them open and focus on Anakin. There’s the signature frown, so familiar Obi-Wan can’t help but smile. Anakin is chewing his lips, a compulsion he had never managed to rid himself of. He looks torn between the need to locate and deal with the ‘enemy’, and…. Obi-Wan. 

The way Anakin looks, that should not be reminiscent of the targets Obi-Wan opts for charm as the main form of negotiation with. Should not stir the excitement of a hunt, of a game to be won. Obi-Wan should not use his looks to achieve his goals, he should not use them to get what he wants, he should be a better man than that.

Obi-wan is not a better man. 

Licking his own dry lips, he let’s go off of Anakin’s wrist and reaches for Anakin’s cheeks. There’s a tremble in the touch, his, Anakin’s? He is not certain. 

“Dear One, you can chase your enemies tomorrow.” He speaks in a hushed murmur, he hopes he sounds soft and alluring “Tonight, will you guard this drunk Master of yours?” he looks up, through his lashes, breathing shallowly, feeling hot, hot, hot all over. 

Anakin let’s go off of the lightsaber. It’s an answer enough to what he had picked. It still is deeply gratifying to feel the boy’s hand cover his own, guide it until he wraps his arm around Anakin’s shoulders. It’s an awkward angle, with Anakin being taller than he— he cares very little for it when Anakin wraps an arm around his waist. 

“Let’s go.” He is tight lipped and determined, guiding Obi-Wan out and into a speeder that is parked not far off. If Obi-Wan was even slightly more aware, he’d realize just how much attention the pair of them had draw, how all of the eyes had followed them out. Sometimes he forgets, how famous they had become during this accursed war. Sometimes, he is glad to not remember. 

Anakin is terribly efficient at getting them to the Temple. One blink of an eye they’re flying through the busy highways of Coruscant, the next he is tossed unceremoniously onto a bed that feels and smells familiar. His bed.

They’re in his quarters. Their quarters until very recently. He is breathing harder and he does not dare to think of why. If he does not think, it does not exist. He is self aware enough only to feel how disheveled his robes feel on his body, how messy his hair is, how hot his skin feels all over. He is a mess. 

“Dear one?” he questions. He refuses to acknowledge how his own tone drops, refuses to admit he is rolling his vowels in a way he knows thickens his accent in the most attractive of ways. He doesn’t know why he is flirting with Anakin Skywalker when the boy is barely out of his knighthood and is Anakin. His Anakin, his Anakin on whom he just looked in a way he really should not be looking at, through his eyelashes, with a heavy, wanting gaze. 

The redness of Anakin’s cheeks is evidence enough that he hears and understands the situation well enough. That he is very much aware of what his Master is doing. That he is… perhaps affected. 

Obi-Wan swallows, trying to push himself up to his elbows. He needs to sober up, he must tell him that he is merely jesting, that it is all a little tease, a little laugh, nothing more, just….

Anakin cuts him to it. Before he can excuse, or joke, or explain.

“Not while you’re drunk.” Anakin bites, sounding frustrated, lips swollen red from biting. Obi-Wan startles, surprised. 

What did Anakin just say? Imply?

Blatantly threw straight into his face, more like. 

Yes, but not while he is drunk.

Absurdly, a swell of pride fills his chest to the brim. Anakin’s manners and chivalry surprises him, pleases him. He had raised him well after all, he did not fail him, at least not in this.

His pleasure must bleed into the Force as Anakin regards him with a dark, baffled look. It’s so dark, most would find it intimidating, but for Obi-Wan it’s… dear. He can see the gentleness in that look, the care. There’s warmth in the force when Anakin insist on tucking him in, fingers methodical in the short, careful gestures. Tucking him in as if he was a child. Him, his Master. Former. 

Obi-Wan was tucked in only once in his lifetime, at least as far as he can remember. His first night in the Jedi Temple. So tense he was, so out of his depth, that the he was taken pity of, tucked in with a quiet promise of everything making sense soon. It helped.

It had never happen again. 

“Ahnakin.” he tries to protest, tries to pull a face of offended indigence. It’s hard to do when he is practically shining within the force. A single look from his apprentice is enough to quiet him down. 

“Master.” Anakin replies, and there’s a little eyeroll there. His cheeks are still flushed but he seems as determined as Obi-Wan to not address the Bantha in the room. “You really should be more careful” he lectures him in a way Obi-Wan can distinctly remember doing a few years back, when Anakin had gotten drunk for the first time. 

He leaves then, without a word. Obi-Wan’s throat closes and there’s a pang of pain in his heart. No this. He remembers now. Him. Leaving. That was the whole reason, that was why—

“Master?” Anakin sounds concerned, a glass of water and a container of what looks to be painkillers in his hands. “Are you sick?” a few strides and he is by Obi-Wan’s bed again, placing he glass and container at the bedside table. He looks well and truly worried. 

Unthinking, Obi-Wan sits up. So sudden that he does feel sick from the motion. He ignores it. He reaches for Anakin’s face with both hands, cupping his cheeks with a grip that is too strong, too desperate. A Jedi should not hold onto things with such fervor. 

All it takes for him to lean is to Anakin, is to stop resisting if only for a moment. Anakin’s pull was always there, stronger and stronger until it had become a daily challenge to ignore it, to pretend he does not feel it. All it takes is to stop resisting and his lips find Anakin’s, pressing against that plush softness, inhaling his exhale and finally, finally feeling anchored, inside the orbit he was always meant to circle.

He tilts his chin, leans in, knowing his beard will scratch pleasantly against the smooth jaw, kisses in deeper—

“Mahster—!” Anakin gasps into the kiss, a pang of shock and uncertainty clouding the force around them, sipping through the open nerves of their broken bond.  He does not want to take advantage of his Master, does not want him to end up hating him, does not want him to wake up and be disgusted, appalled— but he wants, he wants so badly. 

“Oh, Anakin.” Obi-Wan breathes out, unsure if it’s endearment of relief that fills him up with warmth, with lightness. One thing he is certain of, no one had ever been, or will be, as sweet, as kind, as dear as Anakin is to him. “I could never hate him.” There’s a drunken lisp to his voice, he needs a moment to correct himself. “You.” He manages, meeting Anakin’s eyes and not blinking, not wanting to miss a single moment. Wanting to see the exact moment in which Anakin realizes he is serious, that he is the most honest he’s been in years. 

Anakin seems to be realizing it too, his eyes widening and cheeks coloring a deeper red than before, he bites his lip.

“I might be…” Obi-Wan’s gaze drops to Anakin’s lips and he thinks about… “intoxicated…” he forces himself to look up, away from temptation, away from sin. “Drugged, possibly.” He is still not fully certain if he is, or it truly is just Anakin with a touch of alcohol. “But I am very much aware that…” he smiles before completing the sentence, it widens so much further with the words to come “…my Padawan simply cannot take advantage of his Master…” there’s really no need to be using this many terms of belonging, especially when they are outdated and irrelevant, but he just cannot… “On the contrary, I am the one who should be deeply ashamed for…mnnn-” 

Anakin’s lips quiet him up, he was never a patient listener, never could hear his Master finish a thought. This is the most effective he had ever been at cutting Obi-Wan’s line of thought, by far. He kisses him in a way Obi-Wan would have never guessed him capable of— it’s soft, sweet, patient. A tender thing, careful, loving. Obi-Wan gasps. Thinking, dazedly of how Anakin will grow to be an amazing lover, so attentive, a beast holding back his fangs in favor of gentle lips… 

The thought sets a burning coil of arousal deep in Obi-Wan’s gut.

Not good. Beyond not good. He should…. 

The thought is present and yet he licks at Anakin’s lips, asking for permission. He is granted one without resistance, without hesitance. Anakin’s lips part and he can taste him and oh, oh. Obi-Wan groans, muscles tensing as he shifts to sit straighter, moving a hand to Anakin’s nape and pulling him closer.

He nearly chokes when the boy sucks on his tongue, arousal shocking him into near soberness. 

“Anakin…” he knows, there’s not enough alcohol in the universe to convince him that this is not going too far, he knows and yet… 

He kisses Anakin again, a little hungrier, a little more wanting.

He must stop this madness. To think that he had started it, to think that he had taken advantage of his trusting, sweet—

“No, Master.” Anakin answers, and Obi-Wan wonders just how much of his shields is truly left if his thoughts can be read so easily, so plainly. “You’ve asked me to stay, and I will stay.” That assuredness is back, firm and leaving no space for argument. This is the same man who leads men on a battlefield, who commands, who leads. Obi-Wan finds it impossibly, undeniably, devastatingly attractive.

“You will sleep.” Anakin decides then, tearing his eyes away from Obi-Wan long enough to gesture at the lights, turning them off with the force. “And I will stay with you.” His eyes land back to Obi-Wan, dark mirth dancing in what Obi-Wan can still see of him. “To keep you safe, Master.” He is teasing him, the little devil.

“How will it even…” Obi-Wan doesn’t want to mention how narrow the bed really is, Anakin would know, with his constant complaints about how leg room and… 

“Don’t worry about that.” Anakin answers, confidence so cocky, so boyish that Obi-Wan huffs a surprised laughter, breaking into giggling when Anakin practically falls on top of him. They struggle like that, laughter mixing, limbs tangling, hair in a mouth and fingers against sides— Anakin captures him then, they’re on their sides, Anakin’s back is firm as he pulls Obi-Wan all the way to himself, forming….

“Absolutely not!” Obi-Wan’s voice raises and breaks a little, attempting to wriggle out of the trap he inadvertently fell into. There’s still some pride life in him. He will not permit this Jedi Knight, his former Padawan no less, big spoon him, 16 years his senior and former Master. Force be his witness, he will not allow it.

Anakin makes a suffering, exasperated exhale when Obi-Wan manages to slip out of his grip— only to be yanked back by the force. All he manages is a choked gasp of protest before the air is knocked out of him, his back hitting a firm chest a little too hard. There’s a vindictive sort of satisfaction in hearing Anakin chokes out a surprised exhale too, clearly, he did not account for the impact being this strong.

“Karkin’ hell…” he hears the boy muttering and snorts out, laughing even while Anakin wraps his mechno-arm around him, pulling him back into the not-as-offensive as before little spoon position. Fine, he thinks. He’ll allow it, just for this one night…. 

His eyes close and he shudders when Anakin’s nose press against his nape, he can feel the slow, deep inhale— can feel the content exhale that follows. 

“Finally.” Anakin breathes out, as if he was waiting for this moment longer than the few minutes  just now. Like he needed it, himself. Like it was not Obi-Wan, pathetic and alone, messaging his former Padawan while drunk beyond reason that led him here, but his own needs, own wants. Like he needed this too, him. Like he needs him. Obi-Wan. 

“Oh Force…” Obi-Wan calls upon it without realizing, without meaning it. Only the force can stand witness to this moment, judge it, measure it. Guide him, tell him right from wrong. “Force.” His voice trembles with it, realizing for the first time that Anakin does see him, in truth, does and still…

“It’s fine with it.” Anakin remarks, nonchalant, amusement coloring the timbre of his voice. “You don’t have to shout at her, I don’t think she like it very much” Anakin refers to the Force differently every time, Obi-Wan suspects he does it simply for the joy of throwing off the younglings.

It unsettles Obi-Wan as well, he will not admit that much, though. Anakin’s connection with the force was always stronger, always different than anyone else’s. If he’s saying that the Force is not finding this offensive…. Obi-Wan will trust him. Anakin enjoys messing around at times, stretching the truth about how the Force works, but he’d never lie about this, not to him. 

Obi-Wan’s body relaxes so completely that he practically sags into Anakin, relief, so much relief. It feels…. Good. There’s rightness to it that even without the Force humming pleasantly in his ears, he’d recognize. Like sharing a sleeping cot in the war zones, minus the blood and gore and pain… it feels secure, it feels…good…. 

He feels himself being lulled to what he suspects will be a long and restful sleep. Such a luxury as of late. “Mnh..” He jolts a little when a hand moves across his side, resting at his hip bone and then back up to his side. He should not permit Anakin this much leeway with him and yet…. He likes it… oh he likes it.

So he doesn’t comment it, allowing him to continue, to stroke him and care for him, and hold him. He is not leaving. 

Sleep comes ease, as easy as an inhale. One moment he is aware of all that surrounds him, the scent and warmth, the weight and touch. The next he is sinking into the open embrace of rest. Distantly, he feels the touch of a Force Signature he knows as well as his own. It is the only half of it, after all. Accepting it, is as easy as breathing too. 

There’s a distant shift, even in sleep he can feel the bond snapping back into place, like moons falling into a familiar route, circling a singular sun. Maybe it was not Anakin who was the sun around which Obi-wan was revolving all along, but their shared….

[lwlrix]

having aged less friend (a couple years younger than you) can give you confidence issues straight away if you're straight enough to look at a man and it would look like this:

fresh print of black men jokes about the way you wear off the stigma in a face is the past bast friend that ditched you on the dancefloor: you wear studs like rejects wear hopes and you're the dream kind of 'ooo'

having playabouts with interviews that don't seem the thing when you're wearing the bitchless (dean lewis rep) on your nose: why you air relevance is car jetstreaming wind on the flux of her fluidity to deject a bitch with her voice than meeting you (how you met) so you got no puberty (sexy as it is enough, hi 5 me)

what wudu' rep: watch that slexy bastard dance is better than you (gottn' the research to sass watches with her (tru' best friend)

also don't forget the tinder backfire

she shows you receipts: you air them on your no'iiii blogs (that 'masjid' she talks about but the extra 's' went to you instead (she a careful learner) hence why you DJ her drafts to 'my's own a bitch enchiridion: the cheverolet you drive with when putting all of them types to type down' ride off to the sunset cuz the only man she wanted was you (you beat the rest of them up: she bait' no nonsense scooby to ur shaggy all along is why quests still exists (cuz u hate everybody is how u were raised, married or not. u still are, married to ur second wife a black ride or die cement rollercoaster to shahada (she grew to be like you) <3

[amethystina]

I wonder how Gaon and Yohan are going to explain the change in their interactions to Elijah, since it's going to be obvious to her that something has happened between them. Since Elijah knows that there's nothing between Gaon and Soo hyun, I wonder if she will play a role in clearing Yohan's misconception? Thanks for the update! I can't stop thinking how many ways this story can play out😅 Btw i really appreciate the time and effort you put into responding to our questions with such detail.

That definitely depends on who's doing the explaining xD Yo Han would just brush it off and pretend that nothing is happening — which would just piss her off — while Ga On would make a stilted effort to explain without making it too obvious what it's actually about. Which would also annoy her.

That poor girl, seriously. She doesn't deserve to get caught between these two idiots.

I'm not sure I agree that Elijah "knows" that there was nothing between Ga On and Soo Hyun, though. I think she very much thinks there was something between them. I mean, sure, they denied it when she asked if they were dating, but THE WAY they did so was pretty telling (especially in Soo Hyun's case). Even more so since Elijah is a bit... well, innocent? I think most of her experience with love comes from media, books etc. and how Ga On and Soo Hyun behaved is, well, straight from a drama xD

And Elijah also had that talk with Soo Hyun when they were eating ice cream on Ga On's terrace, where it became pretty obvious that Soo Hyun is in love with Ga On and has already confessed to him several times.

So I think Elijah very much believes they were in love. Which means she won't really play a role in convincing Yo Han otherwise — if asked, she'd probably only make it worse, even. Because her understanding of love is a bit superficial and probably pretty geared towards straightness. That's not to say that she's not aware of gay people (I think she might actually know more about that than Ga On does xD) but from the evidence she's seen both Ga On and Yo Han seem straight to her (because I can't imagine that Yo Han has flaunted his dalliances with other men in front of her).

I know I'm very, very firm about this but Elijah doesn't know that Yo Han and Ga On have the hots for each other. And not because she's stupid, but because she's grown up in a country where straightness is the norm and Yo Han has done everything he can to hide the depth of his and Ga On's relationship from her. Also, she's a self-centred teenager x'D

Like, take me for an example. I was around 23-24 and very comfortable in my own pansexuality but was still IN NO WAY PREPARED when my mum basically went: "I may only have had sex with two women in my life but, let me tell you — 10/10, would recommend." Because I had only ever seen her date and talk about men before and therefore assumed she had no interest in anything else. That's how easy it is to miss that someone close to you isn't entirely straight — especially if it's a parent/guardian.

So I really don't think that Elijah would notice until it gets a lot more obvious than this xD

Which wasn't technically what your ask was about (sorry for the tangent xD), but still important to know because Elijah really won't be all that helpful when it comes to Yo Han and Ga On figuring out their feelings for each other. In fact, she might just end up making things harder for them without meaning to. But more about that in later chapters ;)

ANYWAY. Thank you so much for the lovely ask! I'm so happy to hear that people are this excited and involved in my story! And, tbh, I can't help replying because I'm very excited, too, and love talking about my writing, my thoughts, and my takes on these characters. How could I resist? More often than not, I have to cut my answers short because I keep writing longer and longer ones.

Like, you guys have no idea how long the first drafts of my author's notes usually are. One time I had to cut half of it because it was reaching truly spectacular lengths. And sure, I know that some of you probably wouldn't complain if I had posted that first draft, but I'm trying to contain myself, okay? And also not reveal too much since it might end up spoiling future plot points. It's a constant struggle.

So yeah. I'm actually consciously holding back a lot of the time because I'm trying to not come off as completely unhinged x'D

[sheliesshattered]

My last post about the progress on my Batuu vest left off with me contemplating exterior pockets, looking to Bix Caleen as an example of a fitted vest in the Star Wars universe. I ended up talking myself out of any visible exterior pockets, with or without flaps, after looking at all those pictures of Bix. I've got enough other bits of visual interest going on with my outfit that I felt like exterior pockets just cluttered up the look.

Once I had decided against adding additional pockets, I was able to move on to the next step: finishing all the edges and attaching the lining to the exterior in preparation for getting the zipper in place. I turned under the armscyes of the lining and the exterior separately, both using a blue lace hem tape that I originally bought to go with this fabric back in 2016. Eventually I'll top-stitch them together with the hem tape sandwiched invisibly between the exterior and the lining, but for now they're finished enough to allow me to try the vest on without fraying the armscyes.

It took me awhile to think through all the steps for attaching the zipper, with all the asymmetry and overlapping and exterior and lining, while also not wanting the zipper to show from the outside at all. Eventually I figured out that I would need the underlap (left front) to be completely sewn together with the edges finished before I could attach the zipper to that side -- but I would need the overlap (right front) to not be sewn together yet, so that I could attach the zipper just to the lining.

With that finally figured out, I put the lining and the exterior together with right/finished sides together, lined up all the seams and notches carefully, then pinned the edges together from the left (underlap side) shoulder, down the center front of the underlap, and around the lower edge of the vest all the way around to the bottom corner of the center front on the overlapping right side of the vest.

After a lot of ironing to get all of that to lay flat when right side out, I was able to trim the center front edge of the overlap to be nice and clean and straight again. When I drafted the center front panels, I modified that right side to have an additional ~2" of width past where I wanted the zipper to be, specifically so there would be a built-in flap to cover over the zipper. Remember: no visible zippers in Star Wars!

Once I had the overlap panels of both the lining and the exterior all trued up, I marked the center front line on the lining side (in the below pic, the angled line going from lower left to upper right), laid half of the separating zipper onto the fabric so that the teeth were lined up with where the center front line met the lower edge of the vest, then measured from the outside edge of the zipper ribbon to the cut edge of the overlap panel. It was just about 7cm away from that edge, so I measured that distance all the way up (past the dashed line that marked the underbust elevation) and drew a nice crisp line with my chalk pen.

That gave me an easy line to follow when sewing the zipper to the inside/lining of the overlapping flap. Since I hadn't sewn the edge of that panel together yet, I was able to move the exterior layer out of the way and sew the zipper only to the lining, for now. I sewed one line of stitching just slightly in from the outside edge of the zipper ribbon, then did a second pass about halfway between the edge and the zipper teeth. It's on there nice and secure, but has a bit of room to separate from the fabric while it's being zipped, so it doesn't get fiddly.

After that, it was just a matter of pinning the other side of the zipper to the lower front corner of the underlap (this time on the exterior side of the fabric, where it faces the lining of the overlap), then try it on with the rest of my Batuu Bounding outfit and pin the underlap side of the zipper until I had the fit I wanted.

I sewed down that side to match the overlap panel side of the zipper, then tried everything on again to double-check the fit. It was a bit weird with the exterior of the overlap flap still unattached, but it fit well enough that I decided to sew the edges of that overlap flap from the lower corner up to the shoulder seam. The back of the neckline is still open, and the armscyes have been turned under but not attached to each other yet, so I can turn the whole thing right side out by pulling it through the back of the neck. With all that ironed and the zipper zipped up, the vest looks like this currently:

Folding back the outer edge of the overlap reveals the zipper. Because of all the overlapping and underlapping, the zipper is just top-stitched in place. It was way more mind-bending to figure out where everything needed to be placed to get this look, but way easier to actually sew on than, say, an invisible zipper set into a seam.

At this point I was able to try on the vest (with my Jyn Erso sweatshirt) and get a pretty good idea of the overall look. I still want to do a bunch of top-stitching both for accent and to help everything lay flat, but even with that I think I'm going to need something to keep the flap over the zipper from coming open.

I looked at a bunch of options for Star Wars-y looking buckles, settled on one I liked the best, then cut the basic size of them out of paper and taped five of them to the outside of the overlap just to get a basic idea of how it would look. I got Jack to weigh in on it too, and we both felt that the buckles were reducing the sleekness of the vest, and weirdly pushing it more towards an Imperial/First Order sort of look. My character isn't an out-and-out rebel, but she doesn't side with the First Order either. I pulled the taped on paper off again, and both Jack and I felt that that was the significantly better look.

But since I knew I still wanted some sort of closures to keep the flap down -- including one at the top left shoulder, that will hang open most of the time, along the lines of Han Solo's and Cassian Andor's shirts (and a bunch of others, this sort of overlap detail shows up frequently all throughout the franchise) and thus be visible where it hangs open.

I ended up finding these slightly unusual looking hooks-and-eyes that I think will provide a nice, nearly invisible look through the torso of the vest, but not look totally out of place on the flap edge that's hanging open. Bix's fitted coat has a similar closure of just barely visible, just slightly odd hooks and eyes, so I feel like I'm in good company there. They should arrive tomorrow, giving me enough time to hopefully get some of the top-stitching done before then.

That top-stitching is the next step, and one of the last things I need to do for this vest project. I want to top-stitch just inside all the finished edges, including the armscyes, and on each side of each of the seams, probably 2-3mm away from the edge and the seamline. That's going to involve getting everything lined up correctly and all the seam allowances lying flat inside the space between the exterior and the lining, but I think the effect will be totally worth it, both for the smoother fit and the subtle visual interest.

After that, I'll have some handsewing to do to invisibly anchor the zipper to the exterior of the overlap panel and to attach the hooks and eyes, once they arrive. The very last thing I'll do on this project is decide if I want a little stand-up half collar that ends somewhere on top of the shoulder, a bit like the one on Jyn Erso's vest.

I'm pretty sure I want a collar like that, the question is just if I need to lower the neckline in the back first, and then how far forward on the shoulder I should bring the collar. Once I've decided on that, I'll cut it out in two layers, lining and exterior, and sew the outside edges together. Then I'll be able to sew the lower edge of the exterior to the back of the neckline, and hand-sew the lining lower edge to fully encase all the raw edges. I did something similar with the Moment vest, and it comes together pretty quickly. I think I should be able to have the vest completely done by this time next week without much trouble. Hopefully.

Alongside working on my vest, I've been continuing to hand-sew the pleated panels onto Jack's jacket. In the tags on my last sewing update, I mentioned that I had about 5" still to go on the first panel. I was in the really annoying section in the middle of the sleeve where I really had to put my whole arm into the sleeve just to pass the needle through, and it was slow-going. I had to make myself push through that annoying section, rather than continue to put it off.

Eventually I worked my way all the way down to the cuff, cut off the excess from the pleated panel, turn under the edges of the lowest pleat, and hand-sew that into place. I am so pleased with how it turned out, but to keep Jack from making jokes about only having one sleeve done (and so that I wouldn't find myself with time to hand-sew and nothing ready to sew), I quickly pushed on to getting the second pleated strip started. I took a bunch of measurements from the finished sleeve and transferred them to the second sleeve, pinned the pleated panel into place, and had Jack try it on just to double-check the placement.

I was able to tear through the upper section of that second panel, between my increased speed and confidence in my method of hand-sewing this, the easy access through the neck side of the jacket, and a couple of long-ass work meetings where I was basically just there to listen in and take notes every now and then. As of posting this, I'm about halfway through with the second panel, and starting to get into that annoying section of the sleeve again.

The effect of the pleated panels on both sleeves is just so cool that I will definitely be getting photos of the jacket on Jack at some point, either on our Disneyland day or during a try-on before that. He's somewhat allergic to photos, but damn it I'm proud of how this looks, and I want to show it off. I've been calling it a 'sewist flex' from the very beginning -- look at what I can do, look at how cool and Star Wars-y it is -- and I'm really looking forward to sending this beauty out into the world in all its epicness.

And I think Jack feels similarly, based on how he's been talking about wearing this jacket all the time once it's done. His whole outfit together (this jacket, cream colored henley shirt with the buttons and bottonholes removed, mustard-y tan moto jeans, hiking boots) looks wonderfully casual Batuu Bound. The effect of the whole thing is Star Wars, but none of the individual pieces feel weird or costume-y. He might not wear those pieces together for anything other than going to Batuu, but each piece paired with something else looks pretty normal. So if Jack is able to get a lot of wear out of this modified jacket, all the better. I know I'll get that burst of sewist pride every time I see him wear it, lol.

[kawaiichan67]

inukag wedding?

inukag

modern AU

bonded by birth rough draft/wip

for @blairex thank you! I hope its ok 🫣🤞. I’ll try to have the finished version up this weekend.

Miroku stood in front of the goshinboku, his purple robes making him look halfway-legitimate as a Buddhist. Inu Yasha nodded and then stared excitedly, his ears twitching, as he watched his beloved honey walk towards him. Sango stood as a witness, half confused and half excited, her grin mischievous.

Kagome was dressed head to toe in a traditional wedding kimono, three layers deep, and her pure white furisode exquisite against her dark hair. 

“Dear friends,” Miroku began, as serious as a 5th grader could be, “let us join in asking the kami to bless this union between Inu Yasha-kun and Kagome-chan.”

With a serious face, he turned to Inu Yasha, who could not take his eyes off Kagome. “Inu Yasha, do you promise to take this Kagome, to love and hold her, to snuggle her every night, and give her lots of puppies?”

“Yes—wait,” he whispered, “I didn’t say anything about puppies.”

Miroku’s smile was wise and worldly. “Shes already happy. Take the win,” the hentai whispered back. 

“And do you, Kagome-chan, promise to love Inu Yasha-kun, snuggle him every day and—Inu, I cant say this.”

“What? You added puppies to my vows!”  

“Well, yes, but…you know, these aren’t really all that Buddhist.”

“Just finish, bouzo, or I’ll tell Sango what really happened to her—“

“Yes!” the small hentai squeaked in agreement.

“Yes, me too! Yashi-kun, I promise lots of snuggles and ear rubs. Every day,” Kagome finished solemnly. 

“Great!” Miroku agreed, happy that his friend was happy. “You may now kiss the bri-I think you are too young…”

But Inu and Kagome were already rubbing noses, and she gave her puppy a kiss on the cheek. 

“They’re so sweet,” Sango sighed, as Miroku trued to put his arm around her waist.

“Can we start our pre-honeymoon, honey?” Kagome asked, only to be enthusiastically swept off her feet by an overjoyed inu hanyou, bristling with energy. 

“First, we’ll get some clothes and snacks.” 

“Oh, Inu! Can we go back to the ryokan, please? We had such a nice time!”

[nonprojectspecific]

Bra Drafting

i'm both a stupid bra size - The A Bra That Fit's Calculator puts me at a 28H (I think it's over estimating me and I'm a 28GG with short roots) - and my skin has problems with spandex and thermoplastics which makes bra shopping kind of impossible. So for the last couple of years I've been trying to draft my own bras with varying levels of success.

Corsets are fantastic but I do not have the energy or joint function to live that everyday corset life.

1940s bras can be made without elastic but the shape is point AF and the support is minimal.

My latest attempts have been to follow both Ann Haggar and the Porcelynne methods for bra drafting.

My first attempts at both were unwearable but both produced wearable bras on the second attempt.

Ann Haggar's method drafts from bodice blocks for an industry standard B cup and trying to work out how to expand that B cup to a GG was challenging. So was dealing with the fact that even without ease these is a significant difference between what my underbust is estimated at diagonal line from my full bust to waist and my actual underbust - 14.4cm to be exact. For both methods the frame was the easiest part, while I find the more severe angles of the bodice block method more suited to a corset style bra as shown below, which allowed me to use less elastic.

The resultant bra is rather torpedo like but comfortable. With the foam cups it's not obvious that I'm omega particularly in my larger breast and the cups do not accommodate that.

Attempt three, tried and failed to accommodate the at omega shape. The darts end far too soon preventing there from being any lifting of the bust.

Porcelynne method is interesting. You calculate a hemi-ovoid with the three axes being your wire diameter, breast height and a projection measure calculated from your wire, underbust and full bust. The method then drafts a cone to contain that hemi-ovoid with an empty point. If this was explained, it would be awesome.

My first attempt was drastically too small but knowing from the bodice block method that I was not just projected but also significantly omega, I calculated the wire size I would need if I was drafting for the largest diameter of my bust (W40) from the omega adjustment I made for the Haggar Method V3. Then:

I did all the calculation for both a W34 (my actual wire) and W40 (my wire plus omega adjustment)

Drafted the frame for a W34

Followed the instructions as though for a W40 until step 15.

Here I symmetrically reduced the wire line on the lower cups by the difference between the two quarter wire diameters. while rounding the curves out and re-truing the wire line

This gave me a cup at step 23 the end of the method with a good shape at the wire line and a point I wasn't using. For my test cup and test bra, I marked:

centrally in the lower cups the bottom cup depth calculated using the W34 wire, which corresponds to my normal BCD, and used that to round out the point

centrally in the upper cup the top cup depth calculated using the W34 and used that to round out the point

The resultant bra is kind of amazing. It's rounded and curved in all the right places and it accommodates my omega bust nicely.

[random-fandom-chaos]

I finally finish draft :333

———————

Try sighed looking down at the black body body with “Reginald Banks” etched on it with a white chalk marker. She pulled out her phone and quickly pulled up the number of who she knew did this.

“Hello!” Monty said over the line as Tru groaned with a sigh

“Tell me why there is a black body bag with the name Reginald Banks etched on it with white marker on my doorstep?”

“Mm? Oh. I don’t know! I’ve been at the FARM the whole time. You can ask mother.”

“Put him on the phone.”

“Alright!”

Tru dragged the body bag inside her house so it won’t get suspicious. As she sat on a chair she heard her friends voice on the line.

“Y’ello?”

Mother said over the line

“Hi, Mother. Where was Monty last night?”

He lies, smooth as butter, hey, he’ll do anything for his best friend.

“She was with me and the kids in the FARM, watching Moana on Disney. We binged both movies before falling asleep. Why?”

“Oh, Nothing. Tell her I said Goodnight.”

“Alright, Sweet dreams Tru.”

Soon the line went dead, and Tru chuckled to herself as she kicked the body bag from her way, she mumbled to herself.

“Gods, they sure are close. I’ll see what I’ll do to the body tomorrow.”

—————

Mother sighed, looking down at his cereal as he ate. It was a 5am on a Tuesday. He held a book in his hand, reading it. His attention is taken away as Sydney strides down to sit next to him. Once down she looks straight into him. “Dad, we found a decapitated almost mauled body in the cave by the shoreline. Was it you?” He looked up from sitting his cereal, speaking with a concerning calmness. “Oh, that guy. He cat called Monty in the grocery store. I managed to track him down, as he lived by Circus lane street in Edinburgh.” Then he went back to eating his cereal, humming to himself. Re-opening his book and continuing on reading.

[insxparablxduo]

One day I'll go into depth about what happened while twins were kidnapped. One day

[heytherejulia]

I'll be here with you if you need me ~ Peter Parker

pairing: homecoming!peter parker x reader

warning: mention of hospitals, slight mention of blood, swearning but mostly fluff

summary: all you need is a little bit of love from your boyfriend

word count: 1,5k

author's note: i haven't been here for a long time but i'm getting closer to my first examination session in college and going through my notes i found it in my drafts and thought it would be nice to actually show you something that i've written back in lockdown, love you all, jules xx

You were having a really shitty day and all you needed was a moment of peace in your boyfriend's arms, maybe hot tea and maybe a nap, so that’s exactly why you found yourself standing in front of Peter's apartment pulling the door handle. 

You didn't knock because you knew you didn't have to. Aunt May always was so kind to you, Ned, Betty and MJ, always so welcoming with open arms and a big smile on her face. There was complete silence in the apartment when you entered. The only sound you could hear was the clatter of plates tapping against each other. You headed towards the kitchen to say hi to your boyfriend's aunt.

‘Hi, May.’ 

‘Oh, hi, honey. Peter is out at the moment, but he should be back soon. If you want, you can wait in his room.’ 

You weren’t surprised at all. It was always like that, whenever you made plans together or just wanted to spend some time with each other, some villain had to attack at the exact time. You were aware that none of you two, not even Avengers, could possibly control when the baddies are gonna attack but it still was highly annoying.

You smiled at the woman and went to your boyfriend's room. To be honest, you haven’t been here as often as you would've wanted to. You usually met out in town with Betty, MJ and Ned or hung out at your place, so you were soaking up every minute of being in his room. 

It wasn’t much different than any other teenager's room you've seen, with a keen interest in studying. On the desk were torn books and notes, in the drawers you were sure were vials with his web fluid and the drafts of some projects, and on the cupboard above the desk there were several framed photos. Peter with May during his childhood, Peter with Ned at the chemistry contest, a photo of his classmates, Peter with Ned, Betty, MJ and you from one of your meetings, and the last photo of you and Peter smiling wildly at Ned as he took photos of you at the homecoming.

You were sitting like that for about ten minutes when the window opened and Peter crawled inside in his Spider-man suit. You were almost sure he didn’t notice you because he clicked a spider on his chest and the suit fell on the floor and Peter collapsed on the bed right away. He was a bit beaten up and had a few scratches, but nothing more than that.

‘Hey Peter.’ He shuddered and looked at you with a surprised expression. He got up from the bed and walked over to the chair where you were sitting.

‘Hi baby.’ As soon as he came over, you stood up and put your arms around his neck. He picked you up and sat you on the desk. He dug gently against your lips, placing one hand on the small of your back and the other on your neck. After a while, you broke away from him and nestled against his chest.

‘Good to see you.’ You whispered, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. A little bit too soon for your liking you stepped out from his embrace and took the first aid kit out of the drawer in his desk. 

‘Sit down, I'll fix it for you.’ 

You started cleaning his wounds and scratches on his face when Peter was just sitting there scanning your figure carefully.

‘You alright?’ His question didn't surprise you, because he could always notice the slightest change in your mood or demeanor. You weren’t really into physical affection or PDA. Yeah sure, you loved when Peter hugged you or when you were just talking about how you both feel, but you weren’t used to long cuddle sessions or pouring your heart out and weren’t so good at showing him how much you cared. 

The truth was that you both didn't have that many opportunities to be physically together all the time, so things like that happened rather rarely. Neither of you really have that much of a free time that you could use for just being together. Of course, there were times when you were able to just be there for each other, but it just happened from time to time. 

And to be honest, after a day consisting only of shitty events, you were just glad to feel his body heat against you. Your grandmother, who ended up in the hospital, your chemistry test that you most likely failed, and a fight with your parents effectively took away all your enthusiasm and any life energy. 

When you finished cleaning him up, you hugged him again. You remained in this position, with the question suspended between you two for several minutes, until you accidentally hit the box of pens with your hand and it landed on the floor. It took a moment to see that the organizer that had fallen was a ceramic mug with a photo of Peter and May. You felt even worse because you didn't want to break the gift that his aunt once gave him. You got up from the desk and started picking up the remains of the mug with shaking hands. 

‘I’m so so sorry, Peter, I really didn't want to break it, I know this gift meant a lot to you.’

‘Hey, hey, hey, take it easy, it's okay, nothing happened. Leave it or you'll hurt yourself.’ Peter took the broken parts of something that used to be his mug of pens out of your hand and threw them into the trash. ‘Are you sure you're okay?’

You stared at him, knowing you were about to cry if he kept looking at you like that. With so much worry and concern. You just shook your head.

‘Nanny is in the hospital. Doctors aren't that optimistic about her chances of recovery.’ You whispered. Peter froze in place, just looking at the window behind you for a moment. He looked back at you. 

‘I'm so sorry, Y/N/N. Come on, I'll make you some tea.’ You followed Peter to the kitchen, noticing on the way there that May had already left for work. You watched the boy turn on the electric kettle, then he took out two colorful mugs and threw green tea leaves into them. After a while, he put both teas on the table and sat down next to you. ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’ 

You thought about it for a moment because you weren't sure if you wanted to talk about it. Eventually you licked your chapped lips and started talking. 

‘Last week ... Nanna mentioned something about not feeling well, but then she said that everything is okay and she’s okay and now she's in the hospital because she had a heart attack. She’s lying there because I didn't go to visit her because I found that chemistry test more important than her. This is all my fault, Peter. Mine.’

‘It's not like that, baby, and you know it perfectly well.’ He knelt in front of you and took your hands in his. ‘You couldn't have predicted something like this would happen if she openly said she was fine and was feeling okay.’ He got up and pulled your hand and started walking towards the living room. You sat down on the couch, and Peter took the blanket from beside him and covered both of you, then pulled you to his chest and hugged you tightly.

‘I cannot promise you that everything will be alright, but I can promise you that I will be there for you all the time you need me.’ You smiled slightly.

‘What about the friendly neighborhood Spider-man? Who will be returning stolen bicycles to people at this time?’ 

‘I think Mr. Stark's suits may stop dusting for a while, and can replace me.’ he said, pecking your nose. ‘The friendly neighborhood Spider-man has to deal with his closest neighborhood and let go of chasing thieves in the streets of Queens for a while." 

You leaned over him and grabbed his face in your hands, then kissed him. Peter grabbed your waist and kissed you back.

‘Thank you. For everything, Peter.’ He smiled gently and pulled you to his chest again. You wrapped your arms around his waist and allowed yourself a moment to take a break from whatever had been on your mind lately. And you lay cuddled until the late evening, when May came home from work and called you for dinner. And you stayed with him for the whole week, you spent the afternoons in the same way like today, until your Grandma came home.