#heck i stopped watching several times

[soul-wanderer]

Alright, is there anyone else who's been watching Grey's for the past 10-15 years? I started watching around 15 years ago (goodness) and the past few episodes have felt so painfully awful with all of these replaceable new characters. Like, there's always been a fluctuation and there's always been new characters, but the casting has been done so badly that it's obvious that Grey's is coming to an end. And then we have characters like Amelia and I just know I'm gonna watch this show til it's very painful end, because how on earth can they have such fantastic characters and storylines while simultaneously running an entire show into the ground? I guess I'm just frustrated, that's all - and I've seen plenty bad in the past 15 years on that show

[sirfrogsworth]

How do you take a photo of time?

I've been watching the track events at the Olympics since I was a wee lad. It was a tradition in our family. We'd gather around our ancient low-definition 19 inch CRT television and watch tiny blobs compete against other tiny blobs and root for our country.

It was a bit like watching YouTube on your phone in 144p.

Several heroes emerged.

Jackie Joyner-Kersee was amazing.

You can't forget about Flo-Jo.

And then the Olympics decided NBA players were allowed in the competition.

Which formed... The Dream Team.

Was this fair?

Well... they won each game by an average of 44 points.

So... no. It was not fair.

Though it became more fair as time went on.

But, umm... yeah. The other teams looked like the Washington Generals and the US looked like the Harlem Globetrotters if they stopped screwing around half of the game.

But my absolute favorite Olympian was a runner named Michael Johnson.

He was cool as heck.

For one thing... gold shoes.

But he also had this crazy, upright, Tom Cruise-ish sprinting style that just made him look like a running robot on the track.

And in the 1996 Atlanta games he just trounced EVERYONE. I mean, it wasn't even close.

Yikes. Those losing blobs are probably really embarrassed.

Last night I decided to invigorate my nostalgia and watch the track events again. And I got to see one of the wildest races in history.

It didn't even last 10 seconds but it was one of the most exciting sporting events I've ever witnessed. Almost every runner won the race.

After I saw that initially, I was like... who the heck won???

Even in slow motion I wasn't sure.

This was one of the closest finishes in history. There has never been a race where all 8 runners were within this margin.

The arena was silent as the winner was being confirmed. The runners just kind of paced around waiting for official word. My best guess was the Jamaican runner, Kishane Thompson. But then the loudspeaker announced Noah Lyles.

The last tiny morsel of American pride burst out of me with a big "Wooooo!"

I forgot what it was like to be proud of my country. I wish it happened more often. But this young man, despite being last place in the first 3rd of the race, turned on the afterburners and won in a photo finish.

And that's when my inner nerd took over.

Because when they showed the photo finish image, it looked super weird.

Why is the track white?

Why do all of the runners look all warpy like that QWOP game?

So I went down a research rabbit hole to figure this out.

Photo finishes are actually fascinating. The first photo finish captured the end of a horse race in 1890. But that was mostly luck and timing. The actual photo finish mechanisms weren't used until 1937.

Originally they would film the finish line through a physical slit.

And the first horsie head that appeared in that slit would be the winner. This technology ended a huge aspect of corruption in horse race fixing almost overnight.

But we have come a long way since then. And I'd like to introduce you to the Omega Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate.

This slow motion camera sits fixed on the finish line of every race. The concept of the photo finish has remained remarkably similar to the 1930s approach. The camera sensor is specially designed to only record a vertical slit.

Only the finish line itself is actually captured.

And because it limits what it records to only that slit, it can capture 40,000 frames per second to get amazing temporal resolution.

So why don't the photo finishes just look like, well... this?

That is because the camera takes a picture of time more-so than dimensional space. I guess it would be more accurate to say it *assembles* a picture of time.

As the runners cross the finish line, the camera combines all of the little strips of pictures into a single image.

It's almost like if you tried to reassemble a piece of paper after it had been shredded.

Imagine each strip of paper is a picture of ONLY the finish line, just at a slightly different point in time.

What if someone stopped on the finish line and didn't move... what would that look like?

Once they got there, the same part of their body would just be repeated.

So the right side of the photo finish picture represents earlier in time and it just assembles the image strip by strip as time passes and you literally get a picture of time itself.

NEAT!

Okay, but how do they determine the winner from the photo finish?

I mean, that shoe looks like it is ahead of Noah Lyles!

Clavicles!

The IAFF rules state the foremost part of the torso must cross the finish line first. And the endpoint of the torso is the outer end of the clavicle.

So if you get this bone across the finish line first, you win the race.

Two more fun facts!

The start of the race is actually just as carefully timed as the end of the race. There are sensors in the starting blocks of each runner.

The starting gun also has an electronic sensor.

They have determined the fastest a human can react to the sound of a gun is roughly 100 milliseconds. So if you start running before 100 milliseconds they know you didn't actually hear the gun, you just got antsy and started running too early.

And the final fun fact...

Did you notice the Omega logo at the top of the photo finish?

That isn't superimposed or added after the fact. That is captured by the camera.

But if this image is composed only of tiny little slivers, how did they get the Omega logo to show up?

That is a little display. And it is synchronized with the Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate to show a little sliver of the Omega logo for each frame captured.

So when the final image is stitched together, it looks like a cohesive logo at the top of the photo.

Pretty clever, Omega!

[cockaiine]

༊*·˚FUCK AROUND .ᐟ

you drive satoru home after a night clubbing, but he's waayy too drunk to watch over his words. what happens when he makes a confession? will he regret it later....or not?

ɞ⁺ contains : best friend!satoru gojo x fem! reader, drunk satoru at fist, suggestions of drunk sex, slight mention of car crash, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (stay safe n wrap it up!), reader gets called baby, riding position, semi-public sex (satoru has maids)

ɞ⁺ w.c : 3.2k-ish

ɞ⁺ note : came back from the dead yayy. thank u @screampied for beta reading i was too tired to look at it another time skfjklsdjg,, n thank u @satoruwiki i had a stroke writing the dialogue

You never imagined Satoru would consume that much alcohol, truly, you didn't.

“Mmm... give me a kiss... just one…” your best friend mumbles, his words slurred as he collapses into the car seat. In that moment, you're immensely grateful you didn't indulge in as much alcohol as you had initially planned; it's evident he's in no condition to drive you home.

“Satoru…” you sigh, shutting the door to the driver's seat firmly. “Please, spare me.”

The journey commences with a symphony of Satoru's complaints. He's a particularly whiny drunk, grumbling about the seatbelt, his discomfort in the car seat, and even about the moon, insisting it's following him. He just won't shut up, and you swear you'll poke his eye out. The street is shrouded in darkness, and you don’t own a driver's license; the last thing you need is an accident.

However, mercifully, he soon succumbs to a deep slumber, his face pressed against the cold windowpane.  You contemplate taking a picture to tease him with later, but ultimately decide against it.

When you finally arrive at his residence, the realization dawns on you that you have no means of getting home tonight. Summoning an Uber dressed in your current state past midnight doesn't strike you as particularly safe. Crashing at Satoru's seems like the more prudent option, unless he sobers up and offers to drive you home.

“‘Toru,” you poke his shoulder gently, “Satoru, come on, we're here.”

It takes several attempts to rouse him, but when he finally stirs, he startles, nearly banging his head against the window in the process.

“Huh-?” He seems marginally more coherent now; hopefully, he can manage to walk on his own. “Where are we?”

“Your place,” you reply wearily, fatigue seeping into your muscles, pleading for rest. “Come on, you spilled tequila all over yourself.”

“Did you drive?” His bleary eyes narrow slightly, heavy lids drooping.

“No,” you fib, “the car drove itself.”

“Oh,” he nods, a chuckle escaping you at his confusion. He appears on the verge of questioning further, but you beat him to it. Stepping out of the car barefoot, your heels abandoned in the backseat, you make your way to his side, opening the door.

“Come on. Can you walk?”

Satoru nods, lazily unbuckling his seatbelt and swinging his legs out into the open air. You wait outside the car as he lingers, half in, half out.

“Mm... you're looking real pretty, you know?” He remarks, causing you to roll your eyes, though a smile tugs at your lips.

“Stop that,” you giggle, feeling bashful under his gaze. You remind yourself he's still intoxicated, which somewhat explains his behavior.

What catches you off guard is when his hands find their way to your legs, fingers trailing subtly over the back of your thighs. You almost gasp at the unexpected touch, his innocent gaze meeting yours.

“Stop what?”

His slender fingers tug at the hem of your short dress. “This has been bothering me the whole night, you know? Standing in my way.”

“Satoru, you're drunk. Let's get you inside and—”

“Can't you feel it?” A frown mars his pink lips. “Are you that clueless? I've been trying to get with you for so long.”

Your eyes widen, cheeks flushing with heat. You remind yourself that he doesn’t mean it. Heck, he probably doesn’t even know what he’s saying. So, you open your mouth to respond, but he interrupts by pushing himself up and out of the door, causing you to stumble backward.

“So?” Warmth seeps into the small of your back, his fingers tapping against the fabric of your dress.

You weigh the situation carefully. It's a tempting opportunity, one you've secretly hoped for, yet it doesn't feel right. Despite Satoru's partial sobriety, it's clear that proceeding would be a mistake.

“Satoru,” you murmur, taking a step back to create some semblance of space between you. “We'll discuss this when you're sober, okay?”

Fortunately, the awkwardness doesn't linger as he quickly drifts back into slumber.

By the next morning, Satoru recalls nothing of the previous night's events. He's back to his usual self, waking you with a coffee and no questions asked about why you're still there. It's endearing, in its own way, despite his loud and sometimes obnoxious demeanor. You've known Satoru for so long that you've weathered worse.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks as you return from the bathroom, clad in his oversized T-shirt and shorts. He doesn't mind; in fact, he seems to relish the sight, finding comfort in your relaxed appearance.

“Yeah…” you yawn, covering your mouth with one hand while grabbing the warm mug with the other. “Couldn't leave this morning because someone had a bit too much to drink.”

“Oh, please, I know you're just using that as an excuse to stay with me,” he teases, smirking as you shoot him a glare. “It's obvious.”

“Aren’t you cocky?” you retort, bringing the coffee to your lips. The brew is exactly to your liking, a detail Satoru always remembers. “You were so whiny last night, I swear. I should've brought Sugu’ along instead.”

“You wouldn't have,” he insists, persistent in his belief that you wanted to be with him, even when the night didn't unfold as planned. “Who could resist going clubbing with me? It's the ultimate experience. A million girls wish they had the chance.”

“I know, they were all over you,” you remark casually, setting your coffee down on the table in his spacious living room, fingers absentmindedly fixing your hair. He's taken aback by your words, vividly recalling the night's details. “You were such a whore. Every girl grinded on your dick. What an accomplishment.”

A hint of unease crosses his features. It hadn't occurred to him that he'd been dancing with other women while you were there with him. And if he was with other girls... what were you doing?

His thoughts are interrupted by your sudden burst of laughter at his expression, likening him to a sad puppy. “Oh god, your face,” you laugh, wiping away tears. “Relax, it was just a joke.”

Gojo scoffs, feigning nonchalance as he looks away in embarrassment. “I knew it was a joke,” he retorts defensively.

“Of course you did,” you scoff, rolling your eyes playfully.

“What else did I do last night?” Satoru's voice carries a hint of hesitation, embarrassed by his actions. “Did I say anything weird?”

Your breath catches in your throat, a pang of anxiety coursing through you as he seems almost convinced of his own folly. You silently pray he doesn't remember; there's no need to make things awkward for both of you.

“No?” You quirk a brow, “You just slept. You snore fucking loudly, by the way.”

He studies your face and you feign indifference, though the awkwardness hangs palpably in the air around you. He doesn't remember, you silently implore.

“So rude,” he tsks his tongue. The tension in the air dissipates as he teases you about your comment, and you both share a laugh, the momentary awkwardness melting away. He stands up, leaving you with a mixture of relief and amusement at the exchange.

You relieve the longest breath, one you didn’t realize you were holding. 

You're relieved that he's forgotten the events of the night, unwilling to broach the subject in case his words were not genuine, merely fueled by alcohol. Yet, a small, twisted part of you wishes you had accepted his offer last night, even as you despise yourself for such thoughts. He would have regretted it, you reason. Who knows where your friendship would stand if you had acted on such primal urges. You remind yourself that you're not some animal; you can control yourself.

Despite your initial intention to leave by nightfall, you know deep down that you'll end up spending the night at his place again. It's a pattern that seems inevitable.

The day went by fast, and before you know it it’s already dinner time. Satoru stepped into the living room, where you’ve been unproductively lying down for what seemed to be hours on end. “Do you wanna go out to eat?”

“Hmm?” You look up from the phone, turning to face him in a position similar to a cat’s. “I don’t have anything to wear. Can we just order something instead?”

Satoru hums, walking towards the couch you lay on. With a huff you sit up, giving him space to slump himself manspread next to you. “I’m fucking starving”

“Where’s your cook?” You giggle. For a grown man, your blue-eyed friend’s cooking skills are less than average. With some luck, he can make scrambled eggs. Not that he ever needed to, his cook used to be a chef in a big restaurant. Considering the kind of money Satoru has, you’re guessing he left his job for a better opportunity; cooking meals for a single man. “Did he run away? Can’t blame him.”

Satoru shoots you a glare, containing his smile. “He opened a restaurant and left.”

“So he ran away,” You confirm, leaning your face dangerously close, “couldn’t handle you.”

“Are you implying I’m too much to handle?” he mimics your movement, nearly breathing in your face.

“You know I’m right,” you’re trying your best to stay put, but the way your breath hitches at the proximity does not help. You can only pray the heat you feel creeping on your face is not obvious on the out.

“You wanna put that theory to the test?” He quirks a brow, white lashes fluttering in the form of blinks and you’re nearly convinced he’s trying to charm you. “You know, handling someone comes in many forms.”

You cringe at his words, scoffing and turning away to hide your embarrassment. 

Satoru boo’s at you, “coward. You’re so boring.” 

“You’re so eager,” You retort, standing up and stretching your back, trying to keep space before you lose all form of restraint.

“Oh no you don’t,” You hear. Before you react you're pulled back to the couch. A gasp erupts from you when you fall onto the cushion, body too close to his own.

Heat rises, and silence falls. It’s not awkward, no. Just… tense. 

“You’re a terrible liar, you know?” He mutters, voice so sultry it makes your heart drop. It’s such a drastic change from his previous teasing manner. Although that stupid smirk remains. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” your voice comes out a whisper, a lot softer than you expect it to, surprising both you and him. You want to push him off you, tell him you’re best friends and this isn’t heading in the right direction. But you’re too old to care, too desperate to care. You’ve been waiting for this moment for so long now. You can’t lose it again.

“You do,” He isn’t taking arguments. “I remember last night very clearly actually…”

One finger tips over the exposed skin of your knee and up, whatever the shorts you wear leave out, tantalizing you and sending shivers down your spine. You gulp, eyes widening. He remembers..? 

“I’m surprised you didn’t take your chance,” he hums, looking down at where his finger meets with your skin. “So… wasteful.”

“What do you suggest I have done?” You tilt your head to meet his eyes, emboldened. 

His eyes meet yours, lips parted for a second, almost curious. “Allow me to demonstrate.”

Before you can change your mind, his mouth closes upon yours. He doesn’t give you time to process the situation, tongue invading your mouth while his hands take the chance to wrap around your middle.

Your hands find place on his shoulder, colder fingers rushing to the buttons of his shirt. He nearly bites your tongue, muscles dancing in no particular rhythm. He tastes like mint and lust. Exactly how you imagined he would.

He pulls away with a heavy breath when his shirt is unbuttoned. “Did you call me eager?”

“You’re so much sexier with your mouth shut,” you huff, feeling his palms sneak past the waistband of the shorts. 

“You hurt me, you know?” Satoru chuckles, one warm hand finding your jaw to bring your focus back to his face instead of the shit he wore. “Keep your eyes on mine, hm?”

There’s an effect he has on you, bringing out primal needs you thought you had buried well. “Or what?”

He brings down the shorts in one fast movement, earning a yelp from you. He chuckles, looking down at the thong you’d worn last night. “Came prepared, huh? How cute.”

Rolling your eyes, you move to straddle him. “You think you’re so funny–”

“I am,” He interrupts, groping the flesh of your ass. “That’s what got me here.”

You don’t care to deny his words, kissing him like you’re starved. You feel his cock harden against you, arousal evident by the way he groans into his lips.

His hands roam your body freely while his mouth explores the warmth of your mouth. He traces the edge of your bra, teasing the skin acing to be touched. He’s been waiting for this for very long now; to taste you, to feel you, to have you. It’s his goal, and he’s finally getting there.

“Fuck- Satoru,” You breathe. He watches your face, the string of saliva connecting you to him. He’s seen your face in dreams, but it didn’t look this good. He feels the adrenaline rush at the thought that this is caused by him. He is making you look like that. This is all for him.

“Yeah?” He asks, lifting the shirt over your head.

“I need it,” there’s despair in your voice. He feels a need to satisfy it. He plans to, at least. “Please.”

“So needy,” he smiles as you unzip his pants, pulling his hardened cock out of the boxers. “No prep?”

“Can’t,” You answer mindlessly, too focused on pumping your hand over the glorious length. He’s beautiful down there, making a part of you wish you’d done this earlier. But you don’t dwell on it, too enamored by his leaking tip. 

He grunts, biting his lip and throwing his head back. You watch his reaction, propping yourself on your knees. “Can I put it in, ‘toru?”

He huffs, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. “What are you waiting for?” his fingers run down from your waist to your hips, slowly drawing towards your thong. You hiss a breath when he slips his thumb under the fabric, feeling your heat before pushing the cloth to the side. “Go ahead.”

Your hips lower, feeling his tip against your fold. Your movement is slow, a little too slow for his liking. Satoru is no patient man, his grip on your hips tightens, pulling you down with force.

A loud moon escapes you at the suddenness, walls struggling to accommodate the vast stretch. It feels bigger than it looks, you realize, chest heaving under the pressure. You forgot to get a condom, but that’s the last thing on your mind right now. Nails dig into his shoulder, pushing your head against his chest to take a breath.

“Fuh-fuck,” You hiss, “too big.” 

Satoru hums, running his hands over your skin to coax you. “Can’t do it?”

“I–I can,” you grit your teeth. He finds a way to be a pest even with a pussy to shut him up. So you lift your hips, as if to prove your point, moving them slowly at first.

“O-ah–” He shuts his eyes, focused on the ecstatic feeling of your insides squeezing him, swallowing him whole. It’s better than his hands, better than any other girl he’s fucked to pass time. In a way, it’s so… you.

You do your best to maintain pace, to not become too fast just yet. You know you’d orgasm too early if you did, but he feels too good not to.

“Oh, fuck, s’tight,” his jaw clenches as his hands move to unclasp the bra, allowing your breasts freedom. Satoru looks at you, body begging to be adorned. To be worshipped. It’s what you deserve, so his hands rest on your hips as he brings his mouth to your chest, bringing you closer for a taste.

He starts with a little lick to your nipple, earning him yet another loud whine. You’re too cute like that. One set of fingers finds your other breast, fondling it with care. Your senses tingle, making you breathe harder and move sloppier, looking to feel his tip hit a certain spot you’re yet to locate.

Satoru grunts, mouth latching into your hardened nipple, sucking on the sensitive skin. Arms cage his head, giving him better access.

“Fuck– ‘toru…” your whines are a prayer, moving faster around him. His length stretches you so well that you feel him against all the right places, massaging your insides so well you need to cover your mouth to stop the loud noises. Yet you see stars when you feel it, a moan you’re unable to control running freely out of your mouth. You know the maids can hear it, mauve even walked across the room without you noticing. But it doesn’t matter, they wouldn’t dare bring it up.

“Yeah,” His breath comes out strained, pinching your nipple before moving to suck the other one. “Just like that, keep moving for me, baby. I–fuck—I know you’re close”

“So good,” you whine, vision blurring as you huff and puff. “So good, ‘toru–!”

Your confession of ecstasy makes him feel his edge coming closer, yearning for release.

Lewd sounds of squelching and moans roam the room unsolicited; you no longer able to control yourself, and Satoru not wanting you to.

You tug at his hair, moaning pronographically. Your hips nearly buckle at the friction but you’re too busy chasing your high to notice, moving like your life depends on it. The knot in your stomach feels too fragile, too ready to let go.

When Satoru feels the way your hips tire, he puts his hands to work, gently guiding them up on his cock before slamming you back down with an aggressive motion.

You nearly scream, eyes widening as the knot you felt suddenly exploding. Your eyes widen as your neck cranes back, pussy tightening around him all at once then letting go. You twitch around him, clenching and unclenching around his length to the point where he can barely hold it anymore.

“I’m gonna– shit I’m gonna come,” He groans, teeth sinking into the skin of your nipple, the sudden stimulation making you jerk.

“Inside,” You moan, “please ‘toru– i want you to come inside.”

As if on cue, his cock twitches and he releases white ropes into your walls, filling you up with warmth. Your eyes roll back, too much ecstasy.

You ride out your high, coming out longer than you expected. When you’re done, you slump onto him. You don’t recall ever being this worn from one orgasm.

Satoru relaxes into the couch, head thrown back and thoughts empty.

Your breath comes hot against the sweaty skin of his neck. You lick your lips, suddenly thirsty.

“You good?” He whispers, almost afraid if he were too loud he’d ruin the serenity that’s fallen over you. 

“Mhm,” you hum, not yet moving off his length.

“Again?” He asks after a few seconds of silence. You hear that smirk in his voice. 

You giggle in response, pushing yourself up. He’s out of you with a ‘pop!’ and a soft groan. You huddle to the other side of the couch, trying to catch your breath. “Give me a second.”

“Can’t handle me?” He challenges, and you’re urged to move back and ride him until he passes out. Maybe you will, but you need a break. 

“You’re insufferable,” You groan in response, reaching for the half-empty cup of water you’ve previously set on the table. 

“Please,” he rolls his eyes. “You love it.”

[thebibliosphere]

Am I reading this right? You have been beating yourself up for not 'working more' and not 'doing enough', but, the mere act of being AT YOUR DESK is extremely painful? Sitting at your work station, just SITTING THERE, caused you PHYSICAL PAIN, but you were still under the impression that you should be able to just 'power through that' to do, what? How much more are you expecting out of yourself? A book a month? Its not like you've STOPPED WORKING. What time table were you holding yourself to???

Here's the thing, my body has always hurt.

Even when I was a child, I was in a lot of pain that was dismissed as either "growing pains" despite the fact that I never got past 5 feet tall at the age of 11 or "attention seeking." So, I learned to stop talking about it. (The trick is now getting me to shut up about it.)

And for most of my teens and twenties, the pain didn't really stop me too much. It was bad, and it sucked, but for the longest time, everyone kept telling me that "everyone" felt that way, so I just sort of learned to power through and hide it under the assumption that "everyone" feels this way.

Well, turns out that was a mistake because my body hit its breaking point, and what might have been a mild genetic disability that could have flown under the radar is now a severe one that greatly impacts my daily life to the point where sitting at my desk causes me pain (because everything causes me pain).

Couple that with some new-age religious trauma about willpower, positive thinking, and whatever the fuck else my parents thought I was capable of as an 'indigo starseed' and the fact that I was trained to mask my ADHD by being a hyper-competent workaholic-- I really don't know what a healthy baseline is.

(I mean, heck, I wrote the first book of Hunger Pangs while literally dying. I assumed it would be edited and published posthumously. Jokes on me because now I've got to edit the rest of the fucking thing.)

I didn't, obviously, and ever since then, I've been trying to learn what a healthy baseline looks like for me post-recovery, and I think I'm doing quite well at it and enforcing my boundaries when people ask too much of me.

But none of that makes up for the shrieking frustration I feel that I can't do the things I want.

I want to be creative and do fun things, but I can't because my body won't let me. I want to write more, but I can't because I'm swimming in brain fog most of the time. Yes it hurts to sit at my desk, but I also need to earn money so the financial burden of everything isn't solely on my partner. (Something which he argues I shouldn't even be worrying about right now, but it's hard not to worry as I watch him work himself to the bone taking care of everything because I can't.)

I promise you, I'm not hustling my ass into an early grave. There is, in fact, zero hustle about how I work. I am very, very slow these days compared to how I used to be. There's no timetable for one thing. I get done what I get done, and that's it.

I'm just perpetually frustrated that my hyperactive brain is trapped in a malfunctioning meat suit. And my blog is where I talk about it and work through my emotions because, well, that's what I've always done long before Tumblr was even a thing. It just so happens now I've got an audience.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Best of the Bad Boys | Part II

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x F!Reader

Summary: You've fallen for the best of the best. Unfortunately, he also happens to be the worst of the worst.

CW: mild angst, swearing, fluff

WC: ~1900

Part I | Masterlist

“Why didn’t you tell me Viper was your father?” Maverick calls, following you out into the lot.

You’re walking briskly ahead of him because you were hoping to postpone this very conversation. You slow your pace a touch and glance back at him over your shoulder. “You didn’t ask.”

Maverick gives you a disgruntled look and slides a pair of aviators over his eyes. “Cute,” he replies curtly, walking past you toward his bike.

“Did you tell my father what you’re giving me a ride in?” you ask, eyeing the motorcycle skeptically.

Maverick pauses briefly as he grabs the handlebar and lowers his head to peek up at you over the rims of his sunglasses. “Your father trusts me to fly jets. I think he’d be okay with the Ninja.”

You shrug nonchalantly. “It’s your ass on the line.”

Maverick exhales sharply and takes a step toward you. “Exactly,” he says moodily. “You could’ve given me a heads up.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again!” you exclaim in a forceful whisper, very conscious of how close he’s gotten. “I never come here.” You look around anxiously, ensuring that no one is around. “Today was an exception – obviously,” you finish, rubbing the back of your head where your clip had broken against it.

Maverick watches you intently. “Are you okay?” he finally says.

“You already asked me that,” you retort grumpily, lowering your gaze.

“I’m asking again.”

“I’m fine.”

Maverick lets out another sigh and then mounts his bike. He glances over at you. “You coming?”

You hesitate for a moment before climbing onto the back of the seat. Tentatively, you take a hold of his jacket, being careful not to actually touch his body.

But Maverick takes your hand in his and brings it around his torso, pressing it into his abdomen. You hold your breath nervously, trying not to think about the ripple of abs you can feel underneath the thin fabric of his t-shirt. “I’m not going to be flooring it,” he says, starting the engine. “But I’d still prefer it if you held on.”

You bring your other hand around to his stomach, wondering if riding around on a motorcycle is really the best pastime for someone whose limbs are still feeling like jelly after an – albeit minor – collision. You know that your father would certainly not approve. And yet, you somehow feel like you could trust Maverick to deliver you home safe and sound.

As Maverick pulls out of the lot, he yells to you over the roar of the engine, “You thought you’d never see me again?”

You stare at the back of his neck, wondering how the heck you’re going to reply. Thankfully, the motor is loud enough that you have some time to think about it.

When Maverick slows to a stop at a red light, he turns his head to the side so that you’re graced with the contours of his side profile for several moments. He doesn’t strain to look at you over his shoulder but the pause as he lowers his gaze to the asphalt is enough to confirm that he’s awaiting a response.

“I didn’t know you were planning on staying,” you say, trying to infuse your voice with confidence despite your discomfort.

Maverick revs his engine just before the light turns green and starts rolling through the intersection the moment it changes. He doesn’t say anything else until he parks outside your house and kills the engine. “I wasn’t,” he says evenly and then climbs off the bike. He turns to look at you coolly and offers a hand to help you down.

You ignore his outstretched hand and dismount without his help. “You weren’t going to stay?” you ask casually, pretending that the impending answer is entirely insignificant to you.

Maverick shakes his head. “I turned down the offer last week.”

You gulp anxiously, suddenly severely distraught at the thought of Maverick leaving – even though you apparently ‘never thought you’d see him again.’  “But my dad said – does he know that you turned down the offer?”

Maverick watches you in silence for a second and then nods. He drops his gaze then and mutters, “I called him this morning, told him I was reconsidering my decision.” His eyes meet yours again with a stoic expression.

You blink to break the eye contact and look away uneasily. “How come?” you ask nonchalantly.

“Just felt like sticking around for a bit,” he says.

You glance up at him and, while he’s still not exactly smiling, the crease between his furrowed eyebrows has softened a touch. You realize that his change of heart must have had – at least in part – something to do with you, considering it happened immediately after your encounter. But you’re too afraid of being wrong to voice this theory so, instead, you say, “Even so, I’m hardly ever on base and I don’t exactly hang out at the officer’s club very often. The chances of us running into each other again were pretty slim.”

Maverick narrows his eyes. “You gave me your number.”

“Would you have called?”

Maverick stares at you. “I wouldn’t have asked for it if I wasn’t going to call.”

You shrug. “It was a fake number.”

Maverick raises his eyebrows and scoffs. “Alright,” he says. “I’ll see you around then.” He turns back to his bike and swings his leg over to mount it. “Or I guess I won’t,” he adds, turning the key in the ignition.

You panic and take a step toward him, placing your hand over the handlebar and grasping it firmly. “Can you image if I had given you my real number?” you ask. “You would’ve called – maybe” – you add with an eyeroll – “But, if you had and my father picked up? Then what?”

Maverick holds your gaze as your words sink in. Of course, your logic is sound. You couldn’t give him your real number. “You could’ve told me he was your father,” he says levelly, clearly still abundantly vexed. “What else did you lie about?”

You tighten your grip around the handlebar until your knuckles turn white. “Don’t act like you had any intention of seeing me again. And, if you did, how would I know? It’s not like you have a history of committed relationships.”

“What do you know about my history?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow as though you’ve piqued his interest.

You freeze for a moment and press your lips together crossly, annoyed that he’s caught onto the fact that you know more about him than you’d originally let on. “Are you going to take the position?” you ask irritably, completely ignoring his question.

“How can I?” he asks, raising his voice. Then, in a desperate whisper, he adds, “I slept with my superior officer’s daughter!”

You stare at him guiltily. “He doesn’t have to know,” you say.

“I know,” Maverick responds, his eyes boring into yours.

You sigh. “Pretend you don’t.” After a few moments of silence, you let go of the bike and give him a tight smile and a small wave as you start to back away.

Maverick doesn’t wave back. He watches you grimly as you retreat until you finally turn your back to him and ascend the steps of your porch.

You pause at your front door, wondering if you're ever going to see him again. But as you start to dig in your pocket for your house key, you feel a hand graze your upper back, and you whip your head around in surprise. How Maverick managed to scale your porch in under five seconds is beyond you, but you’re far too swept away to ruminate on the details.

Maverick waits a beat, his fingers sliding down your arm as you rotate to face him. His gaze slips momentarily to your lips before he says, “I’m not good at pretending.”

You stare at him in shock as the familiar weakness in your knees – a recurring ailment where Maverick is concerned – threatens to compromise your balance. Standing there, admiring the angles of his face, you suddenly can't think of anything more awe-inspiring. “You should take the job,” you say feebly as he draws ever closer.

Maverick sets his jaw and breathes forcefully out through his nose as though he’s combatting a sentiment he’d rather not express. “Okay,” he whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead. This move destabilizes you further.

You glance up at him and his lips brush softly over the tip of your nose. Your heart springs violently into your throat and then proceeds to bounce around your ribcage like a pinball. He smells like leather and cologne and his light eyes hold your gaze like a magnet. “I’ll stay away from the base,” you say quietly, not daring to believe your own words.

His hands slide up your shoulders and then your neck and then he cradles your head in his palms. “Okay,” he repeats, his face so close to yours that you can almost taste the citrus in his aftershave.

You try to control your breathing, closing your eyes as his thumbs sweep gently over your cheeks. “We can forget all about this,” you whisper very faintly, as though you don’t want to be heard.

Maverick nudges your face with the tip of his nose and mutters, “Okay,” in a warm, humid whisper. His lips move slowly over yours and, languidly, he wraps an entire arm around the back of your neck to bring your closer. He takes a few steps toward you but, since you’re already flush against his body, you’re forced to take a few steps back.

“Thank you for the ride,” you mumble against his lips and you feel him grin at your words.

“My pleasure,” he responds without taking his mouth off yours. He guides you backward until you’re against the front door of your house and suddenly you realize that you’re making out with a Top Gun aviator under your father’s roof.

This thought startles you awake and you brace your hands against Maverick’s chest, giving him a slight push.

Maverick withdraws instantly and drops his head with a heavy sigh before glancing up at you with a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” he says, despite the unapologetic grin.

You scoff with an eye roll and shake your head. Not only is this turn of events the complete opposite of your earlier proposition but it’s also very much something you swore you’d never do. Maverick is just about the worst decision you could make and yet, here you are continuing to make it. “My friend told me you’re trouble,” you say, straightening your posture because you’re now addressing something of utmost importance.

Maverick’s mouth tightens slightly as he attempts to keep a straight face. “Susan?”

“Yes, Susan,” you retort mockingly, surprised that he remembers her name.

Maverick purses his lips, shifting his jaw in thought as he squints his eyes at you. “What sort of trouble?”

You give him a flat look. “She wasn’t specific.”

He nods. “How convenient.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “You’re denying this?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Nah, she’s probably right.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “Good to know.”

He meets your gaze with a more genuine expression. “Come on,” he says. “It’s not like you haven’t already made up your mind about me.”

You let out a dramatic sigh, ignoring the way his eyes are sparkling in the afternoon sun. You’d love to just be straightforward and ask what his true intentions are, but that seems lame and boring and awkward. And you’re none of those things. So, you say, “Would you like to come in for a minute?”

Maverick gives you a small smile and nods. “Okay,” He responds.

Maverick Tag List:

The rest of the list will be in the comments. Let me know if I missed you! As always, let me know if you no longer wish to be tagged in my Mav works!

@wandering-wah

@callsign-sunshine

@ghost-heart34

@birdy-bat-writes

@matya4

@wkndwlff

@nyx2021

@bellamy1998

@oliviah-25

@alexxavicry

@army24--7

@thefandomimagines

@dracosluvbot

@smit41

@scenesofobx

@Criminalmindsandmarvel

@lunamoonbby

@malums-trash-can

@malindacath

@karleetakeenan

@callsign-echo

@toothemoonanddback

@broketraveler87

@atarmychick007

@shanimallina87

@creativitybeware

@xoxabs88xox

@Yoyop7

@hallecarey1

@nik2blog

@rrocky0ah

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@lilianashomaresparza

@latetedslesetoiles

@Elenavampire21

@starberryhorse

@ginger-gabsq

@sarcastic-sourwolf

@risingtripletaurus

@callsignmaverick5

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@hermaeusmorax

@littlebadariell

@simp-for-fictional-people

@ollyoxenfrees

@iamabeautifulperson18

@living-in-my-imagination88

@wintercap89

@mavrellover91

@gingerbreadandpaper

[phoenixcatch7]

Okay you know what actually yeah. I was tired but I had a point.

Why. On earth. In zelda fics. Do people not shut up about everything being hylia's fault forever and ever.

Like, the one deity out of a dozen odd who got cursed into this right alongside Link. All the focus on one great all being power who then gets blamed or blessed for everything that ever happens. It's just... I don't know, it just seems like a culturally Christian thing. Not even that - American catholic.

Especially Legend omg when people write him he never shuts up about how everything bad that's ever happened to him is all hylia's fault and she's doing it on purpose with no thought to her poor beleagured hero. He sounds like someone who grew up in an American conservative household who turned out to be queer and never bothered to unpack any of it and acts like he's now atheist.

But even then you could do something interesting with that!! The common headcanon that Legend is hylian royalty - of course that family would put immense worth and worship on hylia as her descendants, she who founded their kingdom. And maybe legend could feel bitter about not inheriting the magic, or the throne, or whatever meant he grew up away from the castle. Give him some unexamined religious trauma! Heck, he could bond with Flora over disappointing your family's expectations or something! They could work on unpacking it together! If you must make it part of his character at least think about why!

Because that belief is wrong, because hylia is literally the one deity we can pretty safely understand is not all seeing, all knowing, all being.

Every time she has a voice, a role, we see her make mistakes or be tricked and have regrets.

Skyward sword, she's literally zelda. She's a young protective warrior goddess (she used a sword and lead armies to battle against demise) who was created by the Three to guard the triforce and keep watch over hyrules lands. By the time ss starts she's already made several tough calls, not limited to yoinking hylians into the sky. When she was zelda she hated every second of leading Link around and even then!! It all hinged on him being completely willing! He was never forced to do anything, she didn't even have her memories with the plan until after she'd fallen to the surface! Their relationship was entirely genuine and she very nearly overestimated her own willingness to go through with the plan! And even then she still managed to get kidnapped lmao. That's not what happens when you're in charge of fate.

And in botw and totk - she's in her full divine form, her full divine powers, she's ancient and magic and worshipped in every corner of the kingdom. And (spoilers!) she loses contact with one of her own mf statues. Not just any ten apples high chibi statue you see in the towns, no, it's The Big One. She's got no idea what happened to it, but she's (rightfully) worried, and asks Link to check it out. And in an entirely separate instance, her OTHER big statue in the ToT gets overridden!! By a triangle head! And ol creep in the deep is the one who releases the statue! It's been what 20k years of power and worship - if she's not all powerful then she never will be.

Hyrule - every hyrule - is very, very polytheistic. She's not even a goddess of time to be in charge of stuff like that! There's multiple of them: Naryu, Cia (and Lana), Farosh to an extent, and many artifacts that can cause time travel, like the harp of ages, the ocarina, the big portal in ss, those time shift stones in the same game, the statue in wind waker. Please stop treating her like the magic elf equivalent of Monotheistic American Christianity God.

She was introduced in skyward sword. The game that came out before botw. She did not exist in any of the games that came before that. There was a lake hylia! In the kingdom hyrule! That's it! Her name or even existence wasn't even hinted at before that. It's actually canonically pretty unlikely any of the chain (cough cough legend) have even heard of her! And her assigned job is protector of the triforce. That's it. And she can't even use the thing. She can very explicitly as a main driving force of the ss plot not use the triforce she protects. And the triforce, shockingly, is not even in every game.

Cases that hylia often gets the most flack for (links awakening and all the trauma from that, Link failing in botw, the events of totk) hylia has absolutely zero part in. Hilariously. And she has zero power over wishes made to the triforce or who makes those wishes or what the triforce does about it.

She even gets all the blame for the cycle of the hero, the reincarnation! Which? We know exactly how that happened. Blaming her for a curse she herself is a victim to?? Demise, in skyward sword, explicitly, on screen, doing it ON PURPOSE, cursing the spirit of the hero and the blood of the goddess.

Hylia, I don't know if you've noticed, also has her own blood. Whether or not she lost that blood upon return to her divine form, she still couldn't break the curse. Link, spirit now tied to whatever demise had cooking up, is basically to reincarnate in time for whenever the Interesting Times happen. And it's demise's fault, who, again, did it on screen, on purpose, explicitly, pointing at the camera with text bolded and everything.

So why do people even blame her? I think it comes down to this:

Her name matches the kingdom. Whatever her connection to the people with the same name, I don't know, but she did found the surface kingdom as a mortal. Being named zelda at the time I wonder who chose the name XD!

Her worship in botk as a high ranking deity. Again, not monotheistic, there's temples to the Three and there's Malanya and Satori and the great fairies and the yiga worship ganon, but hylia is the most widespread for all she's basically a side character working for the new heart piece situation. Again, this is only the case in ss/botk, she doesn't appear in even aoc.

A misguided belief spread in fanfiction that in linked universe, hylia is the one opening and controlling the portals. To my knowledge, lu canon is that the portals are opened by dark link, or at least that's the working theory. I think it's assumed that hylia is the one who gathered the heroes together to combat it? If that's true? Congratulations! We have one (very plot necessary) act of hers in a fan comic. That is not canon to The Legend Of Zelda series.

An american Christian (I hesitate to say evangelican?) cultural understanding of religion. The differences between polytheism and monotheism. How one might feel if the divine was proven real on earth. Zelda is a Japanese property, it is not a Christian country. Though it draws aesthetic inspiration from western medieval fantasy it is not and never will be culturally western. The majority of ao3/tumblr users are American or at least English speaking, and that will always affect interpretation. It's giving 'be thankful to God no matter what for he always has a plan. Trust in him and your suffering will be rewarded' which is not a universal religious belief.

Something I've noticed to be surprisingly common in fandom, is where a mentor or figure of authority who is anything less than perfect or all forgiving can very quickly have their reputation ripped to shreds by the fandom. And then newer authors come, read those works, internalise that about the characters and produce new works that assume that character's cruelty to be par for the course. I will not be listing those characters or fandoms for a variety of reasons lol. But it is amazingly common and very hard to untangle, especially in larger fandoms. It's character bashing in a way near identical to cancelling people irl. It's not 'giving them depth' or 'making it more realistic' (grittier equalling realism is an ice cold take proliferated by dudebro comic authors and wrong besides.) Have some critical thinking.

Lately, I've also been running into a great many fics (not so much comics) that make hylia do some fairly heinous stuff... And then unironically blame her for it. They do remember they're the ones deciding what the characters do, right? She's not an abusive master playing with her puppets until they break, she's quite the opposite! Use the right tags (dark hylia/ooc characters/character bashing/author made them do it, idk) or dial it back. This is a growing percentage of fics and I'll never restrict content but yanno, if you're going to make hylia evil or manipulative at least understand it's a canon deviation (and do something interesting with it, I once read an amazing botw fic with evil hylia and fierce deity!).

TLDR, To summarise, hylia is canonically incapable both emotionally and physically of doing the majority of things characters in fics blame her for. Stop using her as a scapegoat especially when demise is right there. Please give your whumpees deeper characterisation than hating on hylia. Please give legend deeper characterisation than hating on hylia every time he or someone else is sad. Please remember wild can talk to hylia if he wants. Please double check anything you're not sure about :D!

[all-mirth-no-matter]

Time After Time | Chapter Sixteen

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: A new threat comes to town, and a new applicant comes to the pub.

Warning: language, mentions of assault-ish

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter 16: Fear & Delight

I don’t show it but I quiver whenever you come near. And I cannot decipher between the thrill and the fear. I wanna stop it but like it too much to let it stop here. It’s wrong but I want you tonight.  It’s not my own volition but I fell in deep, by running the distance I’ve been advised to keep. I trot to the wolf like a doting sheep, it’s wrong but I want you tonight. — Fear & Delight, The Correspondents

There was news from Belfast. 

There was no way for you to anticipate the severity of what this actually meant when you heard a Shelby family counsel had been called. Apparently Arthur wanted you there specifically, which of course caused you some unease. 

While the oldest Shelby brother hadn’t called you a whore recently (at least not to your face), he still hadn’t exactly welcomed you with open arms into their business. Over the last month, you’d noticed an uncomfortable power dynamic shift between Arthur and Tommy. One that you were sure Arthur wasn’t too happy about. 

For a moment, you wondered if it had anything to do with your incident with Benji — something you still dreamed about. There was a looming ache in your heart that you imagined wouldn’t go way any time soon. 

“Eight o’clock,” Tommy said again, his voice low against the hum of the busy patrons of the Garrison. You nodded, continuing to wipe down the glassware. “I already told Harry, he’ll cover.” 

You gave him a disapproving look, still unhappy with the way he seemed to go about handling your pub-related business with Harry. But Tommy brushed you off. 

The man you recognized as Freddie stood up from his table in the back. Discreetly, you looked between him and Tommy, trying to busy yourself. 

You weren’t sure if Ada had told Freddie yet that you knew of their dalliance. He hadn’t made any indication that he did, heck he hardly ever even looked at you, so you assumed no. 

“I’ll take a mild,” he said to you, leaning against the bar as he looked toward Tommy, who continued to smoke his cigarette and avoid his old friend. 

You took another look between the two before pouring his glass, then watched as Freddie leaned over and took one of the two coins Tommy had laid down on the counter, and pushed it toward you. 

Looking between the two, you were surprised to see Tommy chuckle, flicking the ash off his cigarette. 

“Cheers, Thomas. Good health to you,” Freddie said, lifting his mug before taking a sip. When Tommy didn’t respond, Freddie reached over and grabbed his cap off the counter, examining the razor blade stitching. “Crown of a prince. Soon to be king, I’d bet–” 

“You don’t bet,” Tommy finally replied, still looking forward. 

“No, but these past few days I’ve been speculating.” 

You tried to appear busy, like you weren’t eavesdropping. It was the job of the bartender to blend into the background. So you continued to polish the glassware as you pretended not to listen to the scene before you. 

Tommy waited for Freddie to continue, but when he didn’t, Tommy took the bait. “About what?” 

“One of my union comrades has a sister who works in the telegraph office at the BSA factory.” 

You remained cool as you listened, but paused at hearing Freddie’s confession. Luckily, Freddie was leaning with his back against the bar counter, head leaned toward Tommy and away from you. You chanced a look at Tommy, who gave nothing away as he continued to look down at his cigarette and listen. You followed suit, going back to your task at hand as Freddie continued. 

“She says, over the past week, they’ve had messages coming up from London to the brass. From Winston Churchill himself.” Freddie paused, pushing up from the bar and moving closer to Tommy. He offered the next part in a softer voice, just loud enough for you to overhear. “Something about a robbery. ‘A robbery of national significance’ it said.” 

Tommy rose his brow unimpressed, still not bothering him with a glance. 

Freddie went on. “She found a list of names left on the telegraph machine. And on that list was your name and my name together. What kind of list would have the name of a communist and the name of a bookmaker side by side?” 

You chanced a peak toward Tommy, watching him set his tumbler down before finally addressing Freddie. “Perhaps it’s a list of men who give false hope to the poor. The only difference between you and me, Freddie, is that sometimes,” he leaned in closer, “sometimes my horses stand a chance of winning.” 

He sat back up, taking another hit off his cigarette as Freddie considered him before pushing off the counter. He moved in closer, and the tension rose, causing you to grow more cautious. If a fight were to go down, you weren’t sure what you would do – what you’d be allowed to do. You knew Harry was in the back room, but still. 

“You know,” Freddie said, leaning in toward Tommy, “there are days when I hear about the cuttings and beatings that I really wish I’d let you take that bullet in France.” 

Tommy huffed out a laugh, shaking his head slightly as he continued to look down. “Believe me, there are nights I wish you had.” 

The front door swung open, a man crashing through like a bull trapped in a pin. You gasped, jumping toward the back of the counter as you watched Tommy and Freddie spring into action at the sight of their friend Danny. 

“They’re gonna get me!” he shouted as Tommy and Freddie grabbed both sides of him, throwing him down to the ground together. 

“Breathe, Danny, breathe!” Freddie shouted when they finally got him face down. 

“Danny! Danny! You’re home!” Tommy said loudly as Danny continued to cry out on the floor. “We’re all home in England. You’re not in France. You’re not an artillery shell, Danny, you’re a man. Hey? You’re not a whizz-bang. You’re a human being, Danny. You’re all right, you’re all right.” 

You watched astounded as they managed to calm down Danny. According to Harry, this wasn’t the first time that Danny had barreled into the pub like this, lost in his mind and attacking everyone in sight. But this had been the first time you’d witnessed an incident. 

It reminded you of what your life could had been like, had your father not gotten help himself with his own PTSD. You knew that nowadays, the concept of PTSD wasn’t even an idea – no one could have anticipated the trauma influenced by the harrowing nature of the First World War on the veterans as they returned home to normal lives. 

You were beginning to wonder if Tommy had any sort of symptoms or triggers when they lifted Danny from the floor as Tommy comforted him back to the present. At some point, Harry had emerged from the back room during the commotion and began righting the tables and chairs. 

“Ah hell, did I do it again?” Danny asked Tommy, crying when he confirmed. 

Tommy pressed his forhead against his friend’s, “You’ve gotta stop doing this, man.” 

Danny offered his apologies as Tommy led him toward the door. 

“It’s all right. You go home to your wife now, Danny. Try and get all that smoke and mud out of your head, eh?” 

Danny apologized again until he left the pub. Tommy and Freddie shared a look before Tommy wiped his face with his hand and moved back to the counter. 

“Mr. Shelby,” Harry said as he gestured toward a broken table top. “You have to do something about him.” 

“Damn right, Harry,” Freddie said antagonizingly, patting the man on the shoulder. “You pay the Peaky Blinders a lot of money for protection.” He followed Tommy back toward the bar, where you’d already filled up his glass. “You’re the law around here now, Tommy, aren’t you? Maybe you should put a bullet in Danny Wizz-Bang’s head, like they do with mad horses.” Tommy paused in his walk toward the door. “Maybe you’ll have to put a bullet in my head someday, too.” 

Tommy shook his head, lifting his cap and straightening it back on his head before turning to look at you. For a moment, you could see the real hurt behind his eyes. A vision flashed before you, of Tommy putting a gun against his own head, and you shuttered. 

“Bring the bill to the Peaky Blinders,” Tommy said to Harry on his way out the door. “We’ll take care of it.” 

That night you approached the Shelby house with trepidation. Aside from that first family meeting, you hadn’t exactly been invited to any of the other meetings. Which was to be expected, you weren’t really family after all. Plus, at the time, there were members at these counsels that still didn’t know of your involvement in the company. 

After the Benji incident, Scudboat and Lovelock had become privy to your real status amongst the business. Polly assured you that they could be trusted, and that they would be useful security-wise. You had been receptive to this update, since neither man had ever had any kind of trouble with the books (aside from some bad math) and they’d always been kind toward you. 

“Finally, we can get started,” Arthur shouted when you walked through the den door. 

Apparently you were the last to arrive. Polly pushed a chair out for you to sit between her and Arthur, who stood and began to pass out small pamphlets. 

“Right, I’ve called this family meeting because I’ve got some very important news. Scudboat and Lovelock got back from Belfast last night. They were buying a stallion to cover their mares. They were in a pub on the Shankhill Road yesterday and in that pub there was a copper, handing out these.” 

He handed a paper to Ada, which John snatched away to read himself. He gave the remaining papers to Scudboat to pass to you, Polly, and Tommy, who was standing against a beam on the other side of Polly. 

“‘If you’re over five feet and can fight, come to Birmingham.’” John read from the pamphlet. 

“They’re recruiting Protestant Irishmen to come over here as Specials,” Arthur went on. 

Ada’s brow creased, “To do what?” 

“To clean up the city, Ada,” Tommy answered. “He’s a chief inspector. The last four years he’s been clearing the IRA out of Belfast.” 

“How do you know so bloody much?” Arthur asked acusatoringly. 

“‘Cause I asked the coppers on our payroll.” 

“And why didn’t you tell me?” 

Tommy continued to stare at his older brother, shrugging slightly, “I’m telling you.” 

Arthur fumed, taking a swig of his flask as Polly asked, “So why are they sending him to Birmingham?” 

“Well, there’s been all these bloody strikes at the BSA and the Austen works lately,” Tommy explained. Ada shared a quick look with you, knowing that it was Freddie who had a hand in most of those strikes. “Now the papers are talking about sedition, and revolution. I reckon it’s communist they’re after.” 

“So this copper’s gonna leave us alone, right?” Polly followed up. 

Tommy chanced a look with you before easily answering her question. 

“There are Irishmen in Green Lanes who left Belfast to get away from him. They say Catholic men who crossed him used to disappear in the night.” 

“Yeah, but we ain’t IRA,” John chimed in. “We bloody fought for the king. Anyway, we’re Peaky Blinders. We’re not scared of coppers.”

“He’s right,” Arthur added. 

“If they come for us, we’ll cut them a smile each.” 

“So, Arthur, is that it?” Tommy asked, ignoring his younger brother. 

Arthur pointed toward you. “Her.” Your brow rose as everyone turned to look at you. “Was the powder trick her idea?” 

Tommy’s brow furrowed, “Like I told you this morning–” 

“You brought her in to help us with the company. Ever since she got here you’ve been reckless. We don’t fuck with the Chinese!” 

You rose your finger, “I’d like to point out that I have no idea what a powder trick even is–”

“Y/N is only doing what we agreed to,” Tommy answered honestly. “I’ll have no more talk of it.” 

Arthur huffed, still staring daggers at his brother. 

“You have nothing more to say to this meeting, Thomas?” Polly asked, breaking the tension between them. 

Tommy shook his head. “No. Nothing that’s women’s business.” 

You rose a brow to that, curious what business was unfit for either you or his aunt to be privy to. 

Polly narrowed on him. “This whole bloody enterprise was women’s business while you men were away at war. What’s changed?” 

“We came back.”

“How could you let him do it?” 

Polly stormed into your flat that night, pulling off her black veil that she typically wore to the church. 

“Uh, sure, come on in Pol,” you joked, motioning for her to come in despite her already standing in the middle of your room with her hands on her hips. 

“Tommy told me about the guns.” 

You sobered up real fast at that, closing the door. 

“You have to convince him to get rid of them – throw them in the Cut.” 

Taking a deep breath, you moved to prepare you both a cup of tea. “How am I supposed to do that?” 

“Talk to him, he’ll listen to you. Do you know how much trouble he’ll be in if he’s caught with those guns, or selling them for that matter? He’ll hang!” 

You swallowed, the severity sinking in. You knew that Tommy was going through every possibility that these guns could serve him. 

“You know I don’t want anything bad to happen to him, but I can’t make Tommy do anything, Polly. You know that better than anyone.” 

She huffed, the sound of surrender as she knew you were right. She ran her hand across her forehead. “This copper is going to be trouble. I can feel it.” 

You had to meet Harry early the next morning. He’d closed early due to the mess Danny had caused and you offered to help him clean up. You were sweeping the floors when the door opened. 

A woman came in and you stopped her, “Oh, I’m sorry, we’re closed–”

“I’m here about the job as a barmaid,” she said with a polite smile.

You appraised the woman before you. She was beautiful, her features soft and polished. Her blonde hair stood out against the others in the town. 

A pang of jealousy filled you immediately, but you pushed it aside. You’d already convinced yourself that this place needed more help, and that no one was going to encroach on your territory. But dammit, why’d she have to be so pretty. 

“Y/N,” you offered her a smile and your hand. 

She reciprocated, “Grace.” 

“Harry!” you shouted, listening for Harry to come back from downstairs. “This is Grace. She’s here about the barmaid position.” 

“Are you mad?” he asked, looking her up and down. 

“Am I what?” 

“Job’s been filled.”

He turned back and you shared a confused look with Grace, knowing that the role hadn’t been filled, unless he’d hired someone without letting you know. 

She took a step forward, “It was in an advertisement in yesterday’s paper.” 

“Believe me, love,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m doing you a favor.” 

“I’m not asking for favors, I’m asking for employment.” 

You couldn’t help the small smirk on your cheek at her response. “Do you have any experience?”

“And references,” she replied, opening her bag and handing you her papers. “I worked in a pub in Dublin.” 

Harry walked over toward you, looking over your shoulder at her papers. “What part of Ireland are you from?” he asked.

“Galway.” 

He hummed, “my mother was from Galway.” 

“She does have experience,” you commented. “That’s better than any of the others who’ve come in to apply.” 

“I can’t have two pretty women in my pub. The coppers will think I’m runnin’ a brothel.” 

You shared a look with Grace, sighing at the real reason Harry didn’t want to hire her. 

She straightened as she took off her hat. “Watch. And listen.” 

Your brow knitted curiously as she picked up the spit bucket, then she began to sing. 

“I wish I was in Carrickfergus, only for nights in Ballygrand. 

I would swim over, the deepest ocean. The deepest ocean, for my love to find. 

My boyhood friends and my own relations, have all passed on now, like the melting snow.” 

She sat down the spit bucket, now filled with the spatoons she’d dumped inside as she sang. You and Harry shared a surprised look. Her singing really was magical, and the jealousy you’d been fighting off rose back up like vile in your throat. 

“In Ireland, my singing made them cry and stopped them fighting.” 

Harry chuckled, “I hope you know a lot of songs.” 

Grace nodded, smiling as she looked back toward you hopeful. 

You smiled back at her encouragingly, but something in your gut pulled at you to take caution. Something about her felt very disingenuous – she felt too polite, too posh, nothing at all like the other people you’d met in town since you’d arrived. 

You tried to convince yourself it was your jealousy, that you were being territorial, all the things you’d been afraid of – but something deeper felt off. 

Like you weren’t the only one here with secrets. 

“This investigator isn’t messing around,” Tommy commented as you brushed Monaghan Boy’s coat. 

It was just the two of you at the Yard, Charlie and Curly were on guard. Tommy used your interest in visiting the horse as his cover to check in on the crates, which hadn’t been touched since you left it the other night. 

“Our coppers say he made a big speech about taking down the Peaky Blinders and Fenians and Communists,” he continued. “Said he doesn’t trust any of them, and brought in his own brigade of men.” 

“This is getting serious, Tommy. Aren’t you worried?” 

“Nah,” he shrugged. “I’m told he didn’t serve. Reserved occupation—“

“Tommy!” Curly ran toward you, “It’s Arthur. He’s been beat bad!” 

You handed Curly the brush and hurried alongside Tommy, who led the way back toward the Lane. He stopped first at the Garrison to grab some rum – said it was the best for disinfection. You disagreed, but didn’t dare argue with his determination in the moment. The pub was packed, but the minute Tommy walked in, the crowded moved aside. 

He snaked through the snug and opened the window as you pushed your way behind the bar. 

“Doesn’t matter what kind, just any bottle,” he shouted, causing Harry and Grace to look toward him. 

“What are you doing, I thought you were off this morning?” Grace asked you, looking between you and Tommy. 

“I am,” you added, searching the shelf for an unopened bottle. 

You heard Harry whisper to Grace that whatever it is, it’s on the house. Tommy sat some money down on the window seal anyway, which Grace moved to collect. 

“Ready?” you said after finally finding the bottle. Tommy nodded, giving one last look to Grace before turning to leave. 

“If I say something’s on the house,” you heard Harry say to Grace as you moved to leave, “then say nothing to whoever you’re serving. If they decide that they want you, there’s nothing anybody could do about it. Lucky for you, Tommy there hasn’t looked at anyone other than Y/N since he got back.” 

You couldn’t help the swell in your chest and smirk on your lips as you gripped the bottle and made your exit from the pub. 

Your smirk immediately fell when you arrived at the Shelby house to the sight of Arthur beat up and bloody. 

“I’m not bloody chocking, am I?”

“You will when I wrap this cloth around your neck,” Ada said back to the older brother as she poured boiling water into a bowl. 

“Let me see him,” Tommy announced, opening the bottle of rum and ringing out a rag. Arthur took a swig of the bottle before Tommy took it back, pouring some onto the rag and pushing it against a nasty gash above his eye. 

Arthur hissed as Tommy reassured him he was alright, then grabbed his arm. “He said Mr. Churchill sent him to Birmingham. National interest, he said. Something about a robbery.” 

Tommy pushed away from him, taking a few steps backwards to breathe. 

“Who?” You asked innocently, moving to help Polly and Ada tend to some of his other cuts. 

“The inspector,” Ada answered. 

Your mouth fell again, surprised that an officer did this, and realizing just exactly how out of your depth you may be. 

“He said he wants us to help him,” Arthur continued, still watching Tommy as he leaned against the counter. 

“We don’t help coppers,” John commented. 

Arthur pointed to his younger brother. “He knew all about our war records. He said we’re patriots, like him. He wants us to be his eyes and ears.”

“Was this before or after he beat you to a pulp?” You scoffed, mostly to yourself. John breathed out a laugh, but Arthur remained serious. 

“I said—“ he hissed again as Polly bandaged up his hand. “I said we’d have a family meeting and take a vote.”

He waited a beat, watching Tommy until his head dropped down to his hand. 

“Why not? Hmm?” Arthur asked when Tommy still didn’t say anything. “We have no truck with Fenians or communists.”

Tommy continued to remain silent. 

“What’s wrong with ya?” Arthur asked, then looked to you. “What’s wrong with him? What the fuck is wrong with him lately?” He finally asked, directing the last question to Polly. 

“If I knew, I’d buy the cure from Compton’s chemists,” she replied looking back at Tommy with that cut throat disapproving glare. 

Arthur set his sights on you, and you knew exactly what he was thinking. That it was you — you were what was wrong with him lately. 

After you all got him relatively cleaned up, he left and grumbled something about getting back his money’s worth. You didn’t ask what he meant by that. Ada and John soon followed, leaving just you, Polly, and Tommy left in the kitchen. 

Polly gave you a pointed look before leaving. 

“Tommy—“ you began the minute you two were alone. 

“I know what you’re gonna say.”

“Did you see Arthur’s face? And this guy wants your help,” you scoffed, dropping into the seat. “This man has to be insane.”

“And desperate,” Tommy added. “This changes our plans. They’ve shown their hand. We can use this. If they want them back this bad, they’ll have to pay.”

You blinked. “You think you can extort from this guy? God, you really would make a great politician, you know that?”

He shook his head. “This is our ticket for legitimacy.”

“In what world?” You all but laughed, thinking of the irony that something legitimate could come from theiving and blackmailing. 

“In this one! This is the way of the world!” He softly exclaimed. Despite the two of you being alone in the house, he still felt the need to be discreet.

You took a deep breath. “I understand that you believe the only way to get ahead is to play dirty, but this — you saw your brother’s face. This guy isn’t messing around. And Winston Churchill. I mean, that’s serious business. He’s the fucking prime minister—“ Tommy’s brow creased, and you shook your head. “I mean, he— he could be one day. He’s just, he’s— he’s powerful, I mean.”

“Fortune drops something valuable into your lap, you don’t just dump it on the bank of the Cut,” Tommy said strongly.

You swallowed, knowing there was no talking him out of it. “Okay. What’s your plan.”

“In France, I learned that it was frivolous to have a concrete plan. You had to adapt at a moment’s notice to survive. My Kimber plan remains, this just may be an opportunity to further my original goal.”

“Alright,” you conceded. 

You held his gaze for a moment before he sat down and took your hand. “This is good, Y/N. This is our chance.”

Outside of Birmingham, the new Inspector walked into an art museum, approaching a blonde woman wearing a large hat. 

“Are you in position?”

Grace rose her head, “I am, sir.”

“First impression?”

“I’m quite shocked at how these people live. Have you found anything out that might help me?”

“I interrogated the head of the Peaky Blinders. He didn’t know anything. A brute.”

Grace hummed. “It strikes me that it isn’t Arthur who heads the Shelby family. It’s the younger one, Thomas. They say he won two medals for gallantry in the war.”

“You sound fascinated,” Inpector Campbell commented, raising a brow. 

“There’s a woman at the bar. She seems very close with the family. I believe she may be my gate to learn more. However, my opinion has not changed. The bookmaker gangs have other business, and the communists are too weak to have planned this. I believe the guns were taken by the IRA.”

He hummed. “You must not let your personal history cloud your judgement.”

“What history?” Grace countered. “That the IRA murdered my father will not affect my judgement.”

“If you see any guns, check the serial numbers against that list,” he slipped a folded paper in her hands. “Your father was the finest officer I ever worked with. I know he’d be very proud of you.”

Back in Birmingham, you were helping Polly with the books when Tommy walked in, blood splattered across his white collar. You knew what this meant — Danny was gone. 

He’d accidentally killed someone during another fit. An Italian whose family wanted revenge. Tommy had promised to dispatch of him himself, with the Italians as witness. 

“Where are ya!” Arthur shouted from the other end of the empty shop. He slammed a paper in front of Tommy. “It bloody won! Monaghan Boy bloody won!”

“Yeah. It won. And word will spread. So the next time we do the powder trick, it won’t just be the Garrison that’ll bet on the horse. It’ll be the whole of Small Heath. And you know what? The horse will win again. And the third time we do it, we’ll have the whole of Birmingham betting on it. A thousand quid bet on the magic horse. And that time, when we’re ready, the horse will lose.” Arthur only stared at him as Tommy shut the book he’d opened. “Think about it.”

He walked the book over toward you and Polly, dropping it to the table along with a bag of coins. 

Polly picked it up, judging the weight. “Bad week?” Tommy didn’t reply. “There was no moon last night, I checked. Did you do the right thing?”

“Yes,” he replied, meeting your eyes. “I did the right thing.”

God, you hoped he did. 

>> next chapter << chapter masterlist

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[luna-loveboop]

I started playing Wind Waker! Y'all want some thoughts?

-Why is the first thing I learned how to do with Link crawling on the ground like a sneaky sneak?

-Why is the SECOND thing I figured out how to do Link sidling along a wall like a sneaky sneak?

This kid is a sneaky sneak sneak!!!!

-Why is Link instantly jumping on people's tables? Get down please sir

-Wind and his family are so sweet I love them so much- and Aryll got kidnapped noooo TT

-Tetra has shot Link from a catapult

**I'm just gonna keep editing this post and adding random thoughts as I go does that sound cool? I wanna do that @hero-of-the-wolf

-Tetra's winking at Link has my heart forever she's so cute I swear

-love the glowy blue talking rock btw yesss stalker pirate girl

-Link why do you yell so loud every time you jump this is a sneak mission I thought you'd be good at this

-the game grumps on YouTube saved my life tho bc im a coward and get way too nervous in places like the forsaken fortress and watching someone else swear through the area before I do it helps ok

-Wind is such a gremlin but he's actually so polite? Like he instantly bowed to the sword trainer and then to the guy on windfall island after paying for breaking his pots- before running out of the house at breakneck speed. He's such a sweet and polite boy you can tell he's grandmas kid- yet he's such a menace what a wild yet polite lad ridndkkfkdg

-the people of windfall island are way too judgy stop being condescending to Link he's my baby. 'The Tipsters' girls have my heart tho because they.. they... well they give you tips. Tip you off you could say

-I think the King of Red Lions just legally adopted Link

Ok so small rant section but this game is so tragic. Like the art style is so goofy and fun but it hits you so hard that these are KIDS. Link is freaking twelve and his sister was kidnapped on his birthday, leaving him to follow in hot clothes because of higher defence I'm guessing (new hero clothes are more suitable for an adventure than casual loose ones but still!). But he's literally like half the height of DOORKNOBS- he has to stand on his tiptoes anytime to open doors. He is so very small.

My mom was like 'I love this animation style - does it help with your nerves that it's lighter?' And I was like 'honestly it makes me feel more deeply the tragedy of what should be a happy childhood being torn apart' but she's used to me saying weird shit like that so it's fine

-I think we as a fandom are severely underestimating how much of a gremlin Wind waker link can be and that's saying a LOT

-I got the Wind Waker!

-WHY IS IT SO HARD TO CONTROL DONT YOU LECTURE ME ON RHYTHM IM LITERALLY A MUSICIAN WHAT THE HECK

-K learned the Wind Waker

-Ok I like got to dragon roost island on the first day and FINALLY got an empty bottle my beautiful baby where were you??

-I cleaned- like actually fully dusted and cleaned- my wii u for the first time after it was inactive for years and holy mother of improved game pad controls

-is it wierd that I'm more excited about the empty bottle than the wind waker?

. . . .

-ya know in hindsight gabon looked pretty shady. I mean he was standing in the shade but what kind of asshole stands there and tells a giant bird to throw a child in the ocean

-I think ganodonk is dumb I can't wait to get the sword and bitch slap him

-'we cANt set SaiL aGain Until you geT a GLowY thiNgy' well mr boat man sir have you considered that I realised there was most definitely a heart piece or two I forgot on windfall island and I'm doing another dungeon with three hearts? At least I got a bottle ig

-why am I trading with rats for potions this doesn't seem hygienic. I know rats are in fact very clean animals but this dungeons isn't and why do the rats want rupees anyways?

-WAIT WHY CAN LINK TALK TO RATS

-so there's this like steamy glowy pot that teleports me to the start/end of the dungeon? I'm questioning all existence in this world why is that a thing. Honestly think Twilight princess's bald teleportation chicken made more sense but whatever

. . . .

-I saved the dragon! By riding on his tail? What a boss fight that was fun. Got a shiny thingy Yayy

-So the wind waker! I learned to change the direction of the wind which is so cool and also to change whether it's night or day. Which is wayyy too much power for this kid how come no one told me he could change night and day?

-That said I love how musical Link is. Like when he looks so happy waving the baton playing to the wind it's just really cool

- Why is the God of Wind a like. Toad surfer dude. Whatever, I like him.

-So apperently there's these little dudes called fish-men who are talking fish who fill out your sea chart- I am still questioning why link can talk to animals but that's fine

-I missed out on pawprint isle before apparently, so I'm gonna do that before whatever the red lion king tells me next

-Also I love Beedle in this game so far he hasn't threatened me like the other beedles in games I've played

. . . .

-I GOT MY SECOND EMPTY BOTTLE

-Sailing through the ocean is really fun

-I went back to windfall and got a 'swift sail' that lets me go faster but I still like the blue one better

-I reached the great deku tree! He had monsters for pimples and I couldn't figure out how to get them off 'what are you doing?!?! go help him!!' IM TRYING ADOPTIVE BOAT FATHER. Turns out I needed to roll into him and not use the grappling hook which makes sense but still

-He. Grew me a leaf. A magic blowy leaf. Which is great it's an awesome gift and means a lot but the Deku tree grunted and grew a leaf for me and that's kinda wierd right?

-Reaching said leaf was a PAIN and I am very impressed with Wind Waker Link.

Hang on rant session. Bro's tiny little grandmas boy but flipping through the air to reach an unspeakably high up leaf is chill. He flipped through leafy child cannons a billion times to reach the Deku leaf and didn't get dizzy or give up even after falling. And that's saying nothing of how he picked up a sword for the first time and swings his way through EVERYTHING thrown at him. Gosh he's so cool I love this Link

-I HAVE MAGIC NOW!!!!! With like a little meter and stuff tidkkfdjfnkdjfkd I'm very excited that I have magic

-Reaching this high shelf with my path forward was a pain but I have to save and quit rn so if it puts me back at the start of this room I will be. Upset.

-It put me back at the start of the room.

-I ordered a game guide! I'm gonna try and play through with it- this'll be my first time using one. But I haven't updated for a few days bc I'm waiting on it :)

This whole post is a bunch of random thoughts jumping around which my adhd self appreciates- that said I really love that we can grab an enemies weapon and use it against them. Increases my respect for ww Link even more- when he had no weapon in the forsaken fortress he grabs a literal wooden stick from an enemy and kills it with. A big twig. Kid's brutal and does what it takes which is so crazy. Also using an enemies sword is great hehe shiny

. . . .

-Got game guide. Yayyyy

-The forbidden woods are scary but they remind me a lot of the forest temple in twilight princess. A lot. The mechanics are also very similar. I love Zelda games

-Maybe it's because the only time I've had free to play rn has been at night, but I find myself constantly thinking this game is creepy. It's so unsettling for a cartoon style- the boko babas freaking eat link! And chew on him like no!! Fisnfjskfkfk *shudder* aaaanyways I am NOT looking forward to redeads in this game but that's a later problem right?

-I figured out how to get the treasure chests from the sea!! And got a piece of heart :DDD

-Ok game guides are really helpful

-Apparently the 'warp pots' are a consistent thing- I guess that's just how Link teleports in dungeons in this game. The second pot is generally hidden a bit but then you can teleport to the beginning of the dungeon and back- then the third pot is near the end... I think. This is only my second dungeon in this game with the pots but it's going great! I'm learning a lot hehe

-I love the grappling hook so much. I can farm spoils/materials from monsters with it before I kill them and I love that. Also it makes me feel cool swinging it.

-WDYM I CAN GET FREE BLUE POTIONS FROM A KOROK USING EASILY ATTAINABLE (with the grappling hook) MATERIALS FROM BOKO BABAS THIS IS JOY THIS IS LOVE IT GIVES ME HEALTH A N D MAGIC FJDKFJFK

-Also the title screen theme and animation play around outset is very satisfying. Watched it replay three times tonight before starting the game. Time well spent.

-I appreciate the items so much. The Deku Leaf is great like I can F L Y with magic and also blow wind at enemies and make them look silly <3

-The look of Link's spoils bag has grown on me and I love it. Purple.

. . . .

-I got the boomerang!!! Oh my gosh it's so cool I love it.

-I've been trying out the switch mechanic for targeting rather than hold. It's going interestingly bc I've only ever held for targeting before. But I think I like it

-The evil flower ate Makar- the Korok I'm TRYING to save GIVE HIM BACK

-That was the prettiest boss fight ever. I couldn't even be intimidated, I don't think I've ever been more relaxed during a boss fight lol. They should make all of them purple and blue sparkly- it was legitimately beautiful.

-I finished the forbidden forest dungeon!! :DD yayyy

-Link's hopping up and down in celebration after the boss fight was so cute he's so happy!!

-Have I mentioned I'm excited about the boomerang

-Makar is so cute?!?! I love him with his little violin and- the Koroks oh my heart that was the cutest ceremony ever

. . . .

-Ok so I went around the great sea, for now avoiding the big octos I am uhh terrified interested to meet, went to a place that got 'corrupted by gannorks power' so now I'm following the pirates back to windfall island

-The pirates are stealing bombs and I think this is illegal.

-My girl Tetra's here!! :D also doing illegal stuff! And Link is just watching them rob the bomb shop lol these cutscenes are the best sometimes also I love the pirate banter

-Tetras little smile and wink when she saw Link was so cute I love her. Also the little hints that she was concerned about his island and not just treasure?? Sweet

-I stole the bombs that the pirates stole from the pirates. And getting there was a PAIN with swinging on the ropes the tiny pirate (Niko) made Link do

-TETRA is a STALKER she was watching Link through the glowy rock thingy- probably cause he was just sneaking around watching her rob a shop but still that thing scares me sometimes when her voice just comes screaming out of it

-Btw why do the pirates want the god pearl thingy anyways? Just cause it's really shiny orrr

-ok we're headed to outset! I'm so excited to get back to Link's home hehe. Also I think Tetra just dared Link to a race bc she was like 'we'll get there first we still have bombs' so yeah anyways she's spending the night here tho so I'm sure it'll be fine.

-I don't like the great sea as much when it's raining and thunderstorming all over :/ I hope it doesn't stay like this? Because that would suck

-I got sucked into a cyclone and was panicking cause it threw me across the great sea BUT then it threw me onto outset!! :D so that was uhh. Handy I guess.

-Ohhh ok so like. time is frozen from ganad's current curse, which means it's gonna stay night for right now, so tetra won't be coming in time to get the treasure from the god dude first. Nice.

-The Lion King just kindly told Link to visit his family and chill for a second and check on his island?? Sobbing yes thank you sir

-Grandma's sick oh no this is the saddest thing I've ever seen ima cry. I healed her with a fairy but she was so sad link and aryll were gone im- and then grandma blamed herself for not being there for them like no it's literally cold and rainy all the time it's frozen right now you have every right to get sick- and then she made Link soup and she'll remake it for him which is great and I LOVE LINKS GRANDMA SO MUCH it was so sad she was sick I'm glad I could heal her :))

-Link smiled and nodded so enthusiastically when Grandma told him to stay out of trouble/stay safe like Link you are a liar I just watched you steal from pirates

-I sparred with Orca and I like him. It's cool how he trains Link on his home Island with like formal training because Link definitely needs it with what he's facing

-Controlled a seagull for the first time. That was fun they can fly for such a long time like. Forever?? Idk I eventually stopped

. . . .

-Ok so I talked wait no. The king of red lions talked with this guy who's a god named Jabun (I think that's how it's spelled I'll check) and he gave us a THIRD glowy thingy. I'll give more thoughts on that conversation later I gotta look up the translation. The sea is back to being sunny :))

-I spent a bit just sailing around. I need to place the shiny pearl thingies from the gods in special places marked on the map to 'reveal the place where my courage will be tested' or whatever

-I have found several great fairies and gotten my rupees and wallets upgraded twice. I like the fairies in this game.

-I FOUGHT A BIG OCTO I'M SO PROUD

-it was scary.

-But my magic meter has been doubled!!! :D *slaps wind waker link* this bad boy can fit so much magic and blessings inside of him

-I've placed two of the fancy shiny orbs. Its wierd... I put them in old looking statues and they glow. That's fine I guess.

-the fishmen are my best friends. Kind of. Every square on the map I go to one is there and they'll give me lil hints and tips while they fill out my map. Nice guys.

-beedle sent me a beedle chart! :D which. Is a map of where his shop appears so handy!

-there's these maps called 'treasure charts' everywhere that mark places in the sea with rings of glowing light that I can bring up treasure from. Generally a purple rupee but a lot of times other things :)

-there's this one square with beedles shop ship that has an empty bottle and heart piece and treasure chart for sale 00 I got the empty bottle immediately ofc (now I have three!!) and saved up the money and got the rest :) it was all like. Five to nine hundred rupees each yeesh

-Link sure does rely on maps and charts a lot in this game

[flagbridge]

Q&A: The Phantom Broadway Proshot

Happy 36th Birthday to Phantom of the Opera's opening night on Broadway! We should be celebrating at the Majestic. The show never should have closed.

In order to create "new" ish POTO Broadway content, @or-what-you-will and I promised to answer your questions about the proshot on POTO Broadway's birthday. Find our summary of the Proshot here.

We got dozens of questions, which we've consolidated into 14 questions. Read them all past the cut!

Wait, what’s the Phantom Proshot?

The Phantom Proshot is an archival copy of the original Broadway cast and production of Phantom of the Opera, filmed at the evening performance with a live audience on May 25, 1988. The New York Public Library, Theatre on Film and Tape Archive at the Performing Arts Library at Lincoln Center has archival copies of Broadway, Off-Broadway, and Regional theater going back to 1970. You can’t view currently running shows, so since Phantom ran for so long, it was under lock and key.

2. How do I see the Pro-Shot? 

Pretty simple how to guide here on the NYPL website. 

We are both NYPL cardholders and made a reservation in advance. You are required to state why you are accessing the recording as they exist for archival and research purpose. Both of us are published authors and researchers under our real names. 

Here's a picture of the room we were in from NYPL's website. We had an appointment and were set up in a room with lots of monitors. We were seated at monitors next to each other with two sets of headphones and had one set of controls to pause/rewind etc. There are 20 monitors in the room and it was pretty full that day. This was not my first time at the TOFT and it’s always had a good number of people around. 

3. Can someone get a boot of it/send me the link to it? Pleeeeease? 

No. Seriously, stop asking about this. Stop joking about this. It’s not online, and never will be. All of the recordings are on digital media (videodiscs or DvDs) in the basement and only library staff get to touch them. Don’t be the person who tried to do this and ruins the archive for everyone else. You can’t even bring electronic devices into the room.

4. Why won’t they release it to the public? And who the heck does it benefit to keep this locked away?

It isn’t. It was locked away when the show was actually running. It is available to the public. We are the public! We have library cards and went to a public library and watched it for $0! It’s owned by the library so the public can see it! At the library! 

The availability of us to access it now that the show has closed is what constitutes public release. There were several other phans, members of the public there to see it after us, and the library allowed them to max out the number of monitors the library allows people to view on. They had a later appointment and were watching disc one when we were on disc two. I’m sure there was someone after them too. Were we all wearing Phantom gear? Also yes. 

(@or-what-you-will here) The library is not allowed to show recordings of anything currently running on Broadway, presumably because of fears about economic loss from those who own the rights to the musicals. The library does not own the rights to the musicals in the archive, and there are likely a lot of stipulations the library has to follow to be able to have recordings like this. 

As someone who works in a library doing digitization work, libraries and the media they contain are very complicated. TOFT likely has the rights to show it under a very limited license, and to make copies for preservation purposes only, but things like this mean they would not be able to do anything like put it online or charge for it or do anything that would be them acting as though they owned the copyright (as opposed to the physical media). This is why when a library or archive has a book or tapes they don’t usually have the right to photocopy the entire book or digitize the entire tape and put it online (unless it is in public domain), however, if you go in person you can see it all you want. Someone else (usually the creator) owns the right to distribute or copy, and libraries and archives can get in a lot of trouble for violating it. 

The copyright is still owned by the holders of each respective musical’s copyright. It’s essentially like when you buy a DVD and you are technically not supposed to copy that DVD but you can invite your friends over to watch it at your house. Copying it and distributing it violates copyright. Putting it online violates copyright. If the library violated copyright it would likely lose the ability to archive musicals altogether. If you copied the DVD it would be a lot harder to find out who put it up because the DVD is owned by lots of people, though you could still be prosecuted by the law. If the library did, they would know immediately who did it because they are presumably the only ones with a copy of this recording. 

Likewise if someone took a bootleg recording of a show and distributed it, the copyright holders wouldn’t know it existed. If they found out that individual would then be eligible to be prosecuted under the law. Because the library is a public institution, if they were found out to be doing this, it would be the library itself that would get in trouble and it would damage their reputation, their funding, and quite possibly the funding and reputation of libraries around the world. A lot of this is done on trust. The copyright holders trust the library as a public institution and the library has a lot more stakes in the game than a single person recording the show and distributing it.

It’s a very tenuous agreement at times, and likely the library is only allowed to even record because there are so many protections in place and they have a history of enforcing these rules. These agreements also usually cover digitization and preservation, but again, violating them could have those abilities taken away as well. It’s all tied up in copyright law and the library has no control over that. I have talked to archivists where I live who have to record performances with tape over the lens because it’s considered for preservation and they want to make sure it cannot be possible to profit off of it in any way. 

When the show goes into public domain they will be able to put it online all they want without fear of repercussions, but until then, unless those agreements change, we are all limited by the whim of the copyright holders.

5. Hello! Is the pro shot you watched what this clip is from https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cp2_80CJqI3/?igsh=MWNja2wwYWw4OHUwbw== ?

I know all of us here on Tumblr were freaking out that they maybe had a copy of the pro shot when this came out. Thank you! (@imstillhere-butallislost)

Not the proshot, it's a press reel. It has its own cool story though! Answered this here.

6. How good of a shot was it? I know you said ProShot but is it a ProShot like Hamilton or just a camera recording the whole stage at once?

I’d definitely say it was Hamilton pro-shot quality as to what was available at the time between image quality and mixing up of close ups and wide shots. I’ve watched other proshots and many just park a camera in the back of the orchestra and call it good. Cats in particular had multiple cameras but just did close-ups when they felt like it, not when it made sense or added anything. As @or-what-you-will explained in their re-blog, Phantom was one of the first proshots where they had a soundboard plug in, and let me tell you, with the exception of a few moments in Act 1 where Sarah Brightman maxes out her mic, the sound was delicious. Have we talked about how Judy Kaye is singing over the overture (yes, that’s Judy Kaye, original Carlotta, warming up!)? Or that you can hear every single word of Notes I and Prima Donna and Notes II, which usually just sounds garbled because everyone is singing over one another? Actually hearing words that I sort of know exist changed my experience of the show for me. 

7. How did the tempo seem, compared to the pace of the show at the end of its run? I saw the show a few times in the last few years, and the music seemed significantly faster in person than it sounded on the London cast recording. I’ve always wondered if that was just a difference between the London and NY productions, or if the tempo just sped up over the years.

Uh…normal pace??? I’ve watched a lot of boots and most solidly clock in 2:15 of run time. This was no different. There are definitely some that run a little faster. London during Earl Carpenter’s 2023 run was notorious as he had to catch a train. It does seem to have settled back out. I will say, the music does always feel more intense in person because the whole place just vibrates. 

8. I'm curious about the comment about the Ratcatcher? I think I remember that character from a film adaptation, but was he ever in the ALW musical? (@lord-valery-mimes)

Yes, Ratcatcher is still in the musical, even now. It’s a blink or you miss it type of moment. If you hear a thud and a scream right before Madame Giry tells Raoul “He lives across the Lake, Monsieur”, the thud is the ratcatcher running across the travelator.

9. Does Christine really recognize the Phantom in PONR from his boner? 

No, but at this point she probably already know it’s him and has been trying to get through the scene, but definitely acts surprised because, well, that’s surprising. But it’s definitely the moment where the Vibes Are Officially Off. 

10. Can Sarah Brightman act? 

Yes! All three of the trio have far more nuanced performances on stage. Sarah doesn’t act the way that we do see many later Christines (including late 80s and early 90s Christines), but she absolutely created the blueprint for the role. Her “Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again” is missing some soul, but at the end of the day she was one of a kind, and she made some very strong acting choices. 

11. there anything unexpected? Any interpretation that stood out to you and particularly striking but didn’t stick around as others took on the roles and put their own spin on things?

Guys, I want to talk about Steve Barton as Raoul. The man made choice, after choice, after choice. And yet we have had so many Raoul’s that are kind of just strutting about looking pretty. Some seem to even forget they’re onstage during Final Lair. It can be such a juicy role if the actors choose to make it that way but so few do. 

Besides some small details I mentioned, the show did maintain its integrity through its 35 year run, which is truly remarkable. 

(@or-what-you-will here) Seconding what Flag said, Steve Barton brought so much more to the role than I’m used to seeing, and it really opened my mind to what Raoul could be. 

The blocking in PONR did surprise me, I knew they had changed it but I hadn’t realized how much. I always found the kind of pinwheeling arm thing Christine does with the phantom strange, so it was a pleasant surprise to find that they didn’t do that at all, the embrace from behind made more sense to me.

I also found after she took his hood off no one really ran out, the phantom and Christine got to have their moment. The blocking where they (the managers and Raoul) run out and tell Christine to stay makes no sense with their motivations to stop him. The more recent blocking where Christine motions them to stay in place as the phantom sings the All I Ask of You Reprise makes way more sense with the characters’ motives and matches this original blocking much more. 

12. Also are you truly working on a research project? If so, how is progress and where might we find your final results when it’s complete?

To quote Dr. Who, “Spoilers.” Yes, always. Both of us have day jobs that have us doing research, but I can’t promise I’ll put it on here when complete since I keep fandom and real life separate. Sorry to dodge this one but getting into specifics about this starts to identify us. 

(@or-what-you-will here) Seconding what Flag said. 

13. Hi there, I was wondering if I could ask you a general question about the NPL’s archive. Something about the language on their website made it sound like viewers could only watch a recording “once”. I wasn’t sure if that meant “once per visit” (i.e. you can’t sit there for 8 hours restarting the tape every time it ends) or “once” as in forever (like, once you’ve watched a recording you are never allowed to request it again). Did you have any clarification? I wasn't sure if the librarians explain the policies when you arrive at your appointment. Thank you for providing so many details about the Phantom pro-shot and offering to answer our questions! That's really kind of you!

You’re welcome! So if there’s nobody after you, you can hang out with the media as long as you want. However, we did have another group come in about 90 minutes after us. That gave us enough time to watch both acts with all the rewinds we wanted. We watched PONR and parts of Final Lair like five times. On a previous TOFT trip I watched two shows and was there for like six hours.  The prohibition is on coming back and watching the recording again. I have no idea how strict they are about this, although I suspect it’s to keep people from monopolizing certain media. Would I want to try to watch the proshot again in the future? Probably! I know there’s stuff I missed, or I’d see something different depending on what I’m working on. The TOFT is also an absolutely incredible resource and I have so many other shows I’d like to check out. 

(Will here) They do log on your library account when you visit that you visited and what you saw. However, if you have accessibility needs that would require you to watch in multiple viewings or something along those lines, I would talk to them about it, because I’m sure they’d be able to work with you to figure out something so you wouldn’t have to sit through the whole thing in one shot.

14. > Barton Raoul’s “There is no Phantom of the Opera” comes off more as “Christine this is just some dude” vs “he doesn’t exist at all.” 

Could you elaborate on this part? I'm having trouble imagining how that would be conveyed. (also, thanks for sharing your notes on the procast!) @clutzyangel

You're welcome! Yes, he's telling Christine that the Phantom is a human, flesh-and-blood man, not some fantastical creature. I've seen many Raouls who seem to try to convince Christine that the Phantom doesn't exist at all. Barton's Raoul seems to understand that he's a man with ulterior motives possibly duping Christine.

And he's not wrong.

[avocadorablepirate]

What Do We Call This? - 12

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Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Summary: On a quest to find what you've been looking for, you acquire the help of the Straw Hat pirates, who've agreed to let you temporarily join them. There are however many challenges that come along with your temporary recruitment - an alliance with a certain Trafalgar Law being one of them.

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn, swearing, the occasional OP spoiler

A/N: I'm too sleep deprived to proofread the entire final part, so I decided I’d split it. But honestly I don’t know what the heck I’ve written here either.

The next part will probably come out some time during the week, or I’ll just post it next week. Anyway, I hope you like it!

—⁠☆✿☆—⁠

The celebration after the battle should have been a moment of relief for Law. Two Yonko’s had been defeated, thus ending the alliance with the Straw Hats. They had finally accomplished the initial goal of the alliance, and yet Law found it hard to join in on the festivities. His mind was occupied by the tension between you and him. He had tried to approach you several times during the night, only to be met with avoidance, and it was driving him to the edge.

Fortunately, he finally managed to corner you at one of the stalls, and pulled you along to a quiet corner. However, the initial determination that he had felt before talking to you, instantly dissipated at your words.

"Your alliance with the Straw Hats is over. That means you won't be sailing with them any longer." You paused, taking a breath as if gathering the strength to continue, and Law felt a sense of dread wash over him as he braced himself for your next words. "And since I'm onboard their ship, that means we won't be sailing together any longer."

The words hit Law like a punch to the gut—something he had dreaded but always feared would come. However, hearing it aloud was an entirely different matter. The whole reason he had wanted to talk to you was to sort things out, and then gather the courage to ask you to join his crew. He had always hoped that maybe a part of you would have liked to come with him. Now, that hope was shattered.

As you continued, Law watched you avoid his gaze, clearly struggling with your own emotions. His mind raced. He knew you were wrong, that his feelings for you went beyond mere protectiveness. But his words came out in a jumbled rush. "(Y/N)-ya, that's—that's not what I meant—"

You cut him off, shaking your head firmly, and with your final words to him turned and left. Law clenched his fists, frustration and helplessness bubbling inside him. He watched as you walked away, each step feeling like a knife twisting deeper into his heart. He wanted to call out to you, to stop you, but the words were stuck in his throat.

That night, Law found no peace. He wandered the festival with his crew in a daze, his mind replaying your conversation over and over. The celebrations around him felt like a cruel joke, a stark contrast to the turmoil within him. You had said that maybe you would meet in the future, but Law knew that in this line of work, it was very unlikely. The thought of this being the last time he saw you shook him to the core, and he was desparate to do something about it. But what could he do? You had already made up your mind.

_____________________________________________

As Law exchanged “farewells” with Luffy and Kid, he stole a glance at the Thousand Sunny, hoping to see you. But you were already inside the ship, likely avoiding him, or so he assumed. As he boarded his own ship, Bepo approached him, worry plastered across his face, "Captain are you sure we're ready to leave? You said you wouldn't leave without her."

Law gritted his teeth, those hadn't been his exact words when he had told his crew about asking you to join them, but in his heart he knew that was what he meant. Leave it to Bepo, to know exactly what he was thinking.

"Raise the anchor," was all he said as he walked further into the ship.

The Polar Tang set sail, the Thousand Sunny and the Victoria Punk not far from it. As if not already irritated, Eustass' snide remark only seemed to serve as fuel to Law's raging annoyance. Ignoring his crew's protests, Law yanked at the helm, steering the ship towards the very waterfall they had climbed to reach Wano.

While his crew braced for impact, Law stood determined. His thoughts however, drifted to you. Luffy had done the very same thing as him, and just like the Polar Tang, the Thousand Sunny was plunging down the same waterfall. "Strawhat-ya that idiot!" Law muttered under his breath (rather hypocritically). His gaze shifted to the Thousand Sunny, and what he saw left him reeling. In an instant, he summoned a blue orb.

_____________________________________________

You were helping load supplies onto the ship when you heard faint voices come from the harbour below: Kid, Luffy and Law. After your conversation with him at the festival, you had called it an early night and started your morning loading the Sunny to avoid running into him. But now, something urged you to take one last look at Law, to just lean over the railing and catch a glimpse of him. So you did just that.

Law stood next to Luffy, his usual stoic expression in place, except now the dark circles that lined his eyes were all the more prominent. A pang of guilt swept over you, knowing you might be the cause.

"You should go down and say goodbye to him." A voice jolted you away from the railing. Your face flushed when you found Robin standing behind you, a knowing smile on her face as she let out a chuckle. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, making you feel a bit self-conscious.

"What?" you asked, flustered.

"You want to talk to him, don't you?" she said gently, her smile widening as she watched your reaction.

"We already did last night," you muttered, trying to hide your unease. You looked away, focusing on the supplies in front of you.

"A real man would say goodbye to you again," Franky chimed in from behind a stack of crates, and despite yourself, you let out a soft laugh. You went back to your task, trying to push away any thoughts that made you question your decision. But as you lifted another crate, you couldn't help but steal another glance over the railing. Law was walking away from Luffy and to his ship, figure slowly disappearing from your view.

The Thousand Sunny set sail, and you busied yourself with organizing the remaining supplies, lost in thought, and completely unaware of Kid's taunting remarks. It wasn't until you heard Usopp and Chopper pleading with Luffy that you snapped out of it.

"What's going on?" You approached Sanji, who watched the pair desparately try to hold back Luffy from the helm. Before he could respond the roar of water filled your ears, and your heart raced with fear as the ship suddenly plummeted.

Instinctively, you grabbed onto the nearest stable object, which happened to be Sanji. Clinging to him in fear for your life, you left the cook stunned.

Luckily, the Sunny landed safely in the waters below. You sighed in relief as you released Sanji and fell to your knees, desperately trying to catch your breath.

"(Y/N)-chan~," you heard Sanji gleefully call out to you moments later, though his voice sounded almost muffled. The next thing you heard was Sanji cursing at Law. As you looked up to see what was the cause of his irritation, a familiar sensation washed over you - a feeling of displacement. You shut your eyes in fear as you felt nothing beneath you, bracing for impact. But instead of a rough hardwood floor or the cold ocean water, you felt a pair of arms around your waist and back.

You opened your eyes to find yourself aboard the Polar Tang, in Law's arms. His grip was firm, and his eyes held a mix of frustration and desperation. For a moment, you were lost in his intense gaze, but reality quickly set in.

"Tra! Give her back!"

"What are you doing?" you exclaimed, trying to wriggle out of his hold. "You can't just teleport me here!"

Law set you down, his eyes locking onto yours. "I'm not going to let you go with them," he stated firmly, leaving no room for argument. "The Straw Hats don’t understand how your powers work. If you go with them you'll keep hurting yourself, pushing yourself until it's too late." Law's expression hardened. "I won’t let you go," he said, his voice laced with determination.

You took a step back, shaking your head. "This isn't your decision to make. Transport me back to the Sunny," you demanded.

Law remained silent, his eyes never leaving yours. His jaw tightened, and it became clear that he had no intention of complying. Frustration bubbled up inside you. You glanced behind, seeing the Sunny getting farther away.

"Send me back now," you said, your voice resolute, but Law shook his head. "It's too far now. Stay on the Polar Tang."

Not wanting to hear anymore protests, Law turned away, leaving you on the deck, and headed into the sub, instructing his crew to follow. Only Ikkaku stayed behind. She approached you with a somber expression, offering a hug when she saw your tear-filled eyes.

"C'mon, let's get you some tea."

She led you to the kitchen, sitting you down at the table before making a cup of tea. Once it was ready, Ikkaku sat beside you, gently nudging you to get your attention when she noticed you staring blankly at the table.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked noting your pained expression. Her question was enough to break you - opening the flood gates. You buried your head in your hands, trying to hide your tears, but Ikkaku had already noticed, pulling you into another hug as she stroked your back in comfort.

As you clung to her, your shoulders shaking with each sob, the weight of your frustration and helplessness poured out. It wasn't just about being left on the Polar Tang; it was the feeling of having no control, of being swept along by decisions made without you. Ikkaku's steady presence and gentle touch were the only anchors you had in that moment of emotional turbulence. The warmth of her embrace slowly began to calm the storm inside you, bit by bit.

After a while, you managed to pull yourself together, your breathing becoming steadier. Ikkaku didn't rush you, allowing you to take the time you needed. She continued to sit beside you, her hand soothingly rubbing your back.

"Why does he have to make things so difficult," you mumbled, sucking in a breath as you tried to calm yourself.

Ikkaku handed you the steaming cup, her expression sympathetic. "He's just worried about you. But I admit, he should have handled it differently."

Once you had managed to regulate your breathing you took a sip of the tea, the warmth soothing you slightly. "I get that he's worried, but he can't just force me to stay here. It’s not fair."

Ikkaku nodded, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I know, and I'm sure Law knows too. He just let his feelings cloud his judgment."

You looked down at your cup, your emotions swirling. A silence settled between you, broken only by the soft hum of the submarine.

"Hey, why don't you get some sleep for now. We can figure this out tomorrow," Ikkaku suggested, finally breaking the silence. She hesitated, but added, "Maybe we can find a way to get you back to the Straw Hats," she said with a small smile, and you tried to offer her one as well, feeling a bit of the weight lift off your shoulders, despite knowing that it would probably be months before you saw the Straw Hat pirates again. "Thank you, Ikkaku."

Unbeknownst to you, Law had been listening. After talking to his crew, he had intended to retreat to his quarters to collect his thoughts. However, as he passed by the kitchen he heard the sound of crying, and he couldn't bring himself to walk away, stopping at the door when he recognised your voice alongside Ikkaku’s. He quietly listened to your conversation, and his heart sank when he heard your words, immediately regretting the pain he had caused you.

As footsteps approached the kitchen door, Law swiftly stepped back, attempting to compose himself. He debated leaving but hesitated, knowing you were about to exit. Moments later, you emerged from the kitchen, your eyes red and swollen from tears, and you locked gazes with him.

"(Y/N)-ya," he began, his voice strained with regret, but you cut him off.

"Don't," you said, voice hoarse. "I don't want to hear it. "

You turned away from him, heading towards your cabin, and Law watched with a heavy heart, tempted to pull you back. But he stopped himself, hoping that if he gave you your space, eventually he could explain himself to you, and you would understand.

_____________________________________________

A/N: I hope the next part doesn’t seem too rushed considering it’s the ending :/

taglist: @trafalgardaria @deathsmajestysworld @cottoncandyloverrrr @magnificenttaledreamland @kitsunechan707

[mostlyihyperfixate]

WrightWorth Fic Recs

Okay, so @moongasux told me to give some fic recommendations on last night's post, and I thought it would be easier for me to put together a list in a separate post. And then I can update as I go along.

Please note that these aren't all the fics I've read or even the only good ones, just my favorites so far--the ones I've gone back and reread multiple times since discovering them. I've got several explicit ones to recommed but I literally just started reading smut so I can't actually comment on how good the sex scenes are.

A Long Way to Fall by prospectkiss

Rating: Explicit; Content Warning for stalking and torture; set pre-AA4; finished

Words cannot express how much I love this fic. It was the second one I ever read, and it's still my all-time favorite. It sounds really dark, but the subject matter is treated with the reality and seriousness it deserves. The author also simultaneously knows where and when to stop with the angst so it never gets overbearing. I especially love that both Miles and Phoenix seem like 100% equal partners and adults. The character voices are *chef's kiss*. This is, hands down, the best Franziska I have come across. Be warned that there are explicit sex scenes!

A Night You'll Never Regret by MaudMoon

Rating: Explicit; Content Warning for drinking in excess; set post-AA6; finished

This is another excellent fic, a sort of pure-fluff alternative to A Long Way to Fall. It's just good times from start to finish. The character work here is also very good. The author deals with a pretty large cast masterfully. Larry is amazing in this. This is the story that introduced me to my NOTP, but I'm coming to realize that it's a fairly common ship in this fandom, and who am I to rain on a collective parade? This story is too good to ignore just because of that. Again, there are explicit sex scenes.

Turnabout: Bloodline by LeFlayART

Rating: Explicit; Canon Divergence post-AA6; Spirit Medium!Miles AU; finished (the first two of the three stories, anyway)

You have got to read this. I started reading the first story in this series yesterday, and I've hardly been able to put it down. I am crushed to see that the final story never got finished--but a look at the number of comments on the second part shows that the number of comments this received at the time was a travesty. This is a masterpiece. They say the mark of a good story is that you keep saying to yourself, "Just one more chapter. Just one more chapter," and I have been saying that since, like, 9:00 in the morning yesterday. There is explicit sex. There is a lot of explicit sex. Please go shower this fic with the praise it deserves.

pressed beneath the burden of proof by harmony

Rating: Mature; Content Warning for amnesia fic; one shot

I effing love an amnesia fic, okay? I know it's not for everyone, but it's one of my favorite fic tropes. (Seriously, if you know of any other Wrightworth or Klapollo amnesia fics please send them my way). This is a nice lengthy one that doesn't overstay its welcome by making you wonder where the heck the plot got to. There's no big, overarching legal mystery to solve, but watching Miles put things together is plot enough. The interactions between Miles and Phoenix are wonderful.

res ipsa loquitur (the thing itself speaks) by griffonage

Rating: Teen and Up; finished

This is a fun miscommunication fic that isn't going to leave you wanting to rage at the couple for not just communicating. It's fun miscommunication. Another great "It's about the pining" fic, but without all the angst that usually comes with all that pining--and it's only five chapters, so you can read it in a snap! The author wrote another similar story from Phoenix's point of view later, but of the two, this is my preferred one.

Guilty as Charged by JustNerdyThings

Rating: General Audiences; finished

Do you like seeing Apollo tortured in the fun sense? Then this is the fic for you! It's got some additional Klapollo which finally made me go, "Oh, yeah, this ship is cute," and while shipping (and fumbled matchmaking) is the plot of the story, the place it really shines is just watching Apollo deal with the rest of the cast as the only sane man. It's all cute enough to give you cavities.

Epoch by citsiurtlanu

Rating: Teen and Up; Content Warning for Soulmate AU; set through the series; in the process of being posted

I feel like an elephant is sitting on my chest when I open this up and read it--every single damn time. It hurts. I mean that in a good way. I don't typically read soulmate AUs because I always have more questions than what is addressed, but this one's sort of (at least thus far) a deconstruction of the concept. I am genuinely upset that I have to wait for weekly updates on this when I just want to unhinge my jaw and swallow it whole. Every week's update leaves me wanting more. Also, the author is terribly nice.

[turbulentscrawl]

Naib and Eli resting their head on gender neutral s/o’s boobs sfw, how do they go about to getting into the position, what’s their reaction if their s/o calls them out lovingly ofc!! please :3!!

Heck yeah!! I wasn't entirely sure if you wanted HCs or a little scene so here's a bit of both.

Naib Subedar

-Mr. “I do what I want” right here just sees an opening and goes for it. As long as you’re in private, of course.

-If you seriously want him to get off he will, but he can tell when you’re just messing with him and plays along with it a bit.

-He can take some teasing, especially if it means he gets to stay like this longer.

---

You blinked and he was there, full weight settling carefully against yours. When you lifted your book to peer down at the shirtless mercenary who’d joined you in bed, skin still hot and steaming from his shower. He deigned not to return eye contact and instead nuzzled his jaw into your sternum. Both of his hands wormed their way between the bed and the small of your back and squeezed. His legs clenched and stretched like a cat, and then he fell still.

“Whatcha doing?” you asked.

“‘M tired,” Naib said in response, muffled slightly against your chest. His hair was down, dripping, dampening your shirt.

“I’m sure, it sounded like your match was a busy one for my favorite rescue specialist.” He groaned in confirmation. “But you know there’s a perfectly good pillow right next to me?” You felt more than saw his lips pull into a smirk.

“I like these better,” he said. “Warmer, softer, and they come with a heartbeat.” To punctuate his point, Naib laid his ear right over your heart and settled back in. “Rub my back for me.”

“You’re being awfully demanding,” you replied. “What if I don’t like you laying on me like this, hmm?”

Naib groaned louder and made a show of peeling himself away from you. He got as far as elbow-height from your body before you tossed your book away, forcibly hugged his face back into your chest, and locked your legs around his waist. With a short laugh, he collapsed back on top of you. One of his hands ran the length of your side appreciatively while he settled back in, cheeks now well and truly smushed by your bosom.

“You’re the best,” he muttered when your hands began rubbing circles into his shoulders, and after several minutes drifted away to sleep.

Eli Clark

-A little more shy about it. He asks first, but he’s just a tiny bit awkward about it.

-Also handles teasing well, as he knows when you’re being serious or not, even if you’re really subtle.

-So very sweet about it. He just wants to be held. ;;

---

Eli finally stepped into your room after checking on everyone post-match. It always took him forever to make his rounds, but it was hard to be upset when his absence was for such kind reasons. Brooke Rose took a perch onyour coat rack, and Eli made himself comfortable, sluggishly removing both his cloak and eyemask. You were already watching him when he turned to face you, bright blue eyes locking onto your form. A sweet, but tired smile slipped onto his lips.

After several long moments holding one another’s stares like that, and his cheeks steadily growing pink, you ventured to ask, “Is everything alright?”

“Ah,” Eli finally said. “I was just wondering…if I could join you?”

“Of course you can,” you chuckled. Always cautious, this one, even after losing count of all the times you’ve given permission. You patted the mattress next to you, and Eli seemed pleased with the offer, but stopped again with just one knee on the bed, vaguely hovering over your reclined form.

“Actually, I was wondering if I might…lay on you?” he asked.

“Feeling a little extra clingy tonight, are we?” you asked back. His head dipped away in embarrassment, but he didn’t retreat from you. He chuckled good-naturedly.

“Can I?” he asked again.

“Can you?” Your voice dropped low, teasing and suggestive.

“You’re cheeky,” he said back, “I think I can.” Carefully, he slid himself up against your side. His legs tangled with yours, torso half-topping, half-spooning you. He was trying to be mindful of his weight, but when he finally settled and seemed happy with the position, he was coiled around you like ivy. And his head cradled right against your boobs.

“I see what this is,” you taunted, unable to resist one more. “You just wanted easy access to the stress balls.” Eli barked a loud laugh in response. He turned his head up as if to say something but cut himself off when your fingers slipped into his hair and began combing through it. The treatment relaxed him, and you two fell gently into intimate silence.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Once Upon a Time 10

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Andy Barber

Part of the Bookstore AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

A message pops up on your Instagram. You open it with dread, a blank profile with some generic photo of a bookshelf. You already know it's him. 

‘Your aunt is very nice.’ 

You nearly drop your phone as you glance over at Jo. She sits with a cross stitch as she watches a rerun of Cold Case. You shudder and look back down at the screen. 

‘Why r u doing this?’ 

You hit the arrow as your sweaty hands stick to the silicon case. 

‘Why am I being nice?’ He replies. 

You can't. You stand up with your phone and your Aunt Jo peeks over with an arched brow. You give an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry, I'll be right back.” 

You cross the room and pass the kitchen doorway. You lock yourself in the bathroom and look at your phone. You see three dots then they disappear. 

‘You followed me.’ 

He sends a rolling eye emoji. You nearly scream. What the hell? He's rolling his eyes at what? Stalking you? 

‘More than once.’ 

He sends a laughing emoji with tears. You huff. He's so confusing. Then a photo pops up, buffering before finally loading. 

It's Chelsea, well, the top of her head and she's… 

You want to puke. You can't believe he'd send you that. Does she know he took that? Even if she's a bitch, you feel bad. 

‘Looks like I'm all taken care of.’ He texts. 

‘Looks like you are.’ 

You turn your phone to do not disturb and lock it. He's disgusting. You don't even get what he wants from you. If he has Chelsea doing all that, why the heck is he texting you? 

You take your phone to the spare room, what was once your room, and leave it there. You don’t want to be bothered by him, even if you can’t shake the uneasiness stirring your nerves. You go back to the living room and sit down on the couch. You stare unseeingly at the television as the syndicated legal series drones on. 

“What was that, honey?” Jo asks, poking her needle up then pulling it through. 

“Work,” you lie, “um, they keep moving around the schedule or whatever. It’s... frustrating.” 

“Ah, that’s too bad,” she tug the thread to its limit, “you’re stressed. Maybe you should take a day off.” 

“Maybe,” you rub your forehead, “or get a different job.” 

“Could do,” she shrugs, “you know I’ll support whatever you do.” 

“Yeah,” you drop your hands into your lap and look at her, “I know.” 

You turn back to screen and try to hide your despair. Should you try to tell her about Andy? The thought’s crossed your mind a dozen times over. Your Aunt Jo is fierce and loving, she might just believe you but it’s not her holding you back. It’s him. He’s dangerous and he hasn’t yet shown you how dangerous. 

It’s better she doesn’t know. Not right now. You’ll have to deal with Andy. Just not tonight. 

📖

You grumble around the last mouthful of coffee. Another day, another shift. While Jo’s suggestion was tempting, you really can’t give up the hours. Nonetheless, you haven’t sat on your hands. Several applications were forward late into the night as sleep eluded you. Now you can barely hold your head up. 

It shouldn’t be very busy at opening. You can survive on an instant coffee packet from the breakroom. You yawn and grab your coat and bag. The snow puffs up around your boots as you step outside, shivering as you tuck your scarf into the top of your jacket. You pull your hood up against the frigid wind and tamp down the fresh powder as you come down the walk. 

As you get to the sidewalk, you stop and look both ways. Before you can cross and head for the bus stop, a horn honks, jarring you. You step back as a familiar car rolls up. You cross your arms, heart racing, and peek back over your shoulder at the safe hold of your aunt’s house. 

“Buses are behind,” Andy calls through the window as it slides down, “you’ll be late...” 

“I’m fine,” you sidestep to walk around the rear bumper and he shifts into reverse, blocking your escape. 

“I know your aunt didn’t teach you to be so ungrateful--” 

“Don’t talk about my aunt,” you snap as you turn back the other way and he rolls forward. You stop short and stomp your foot, “why are you doing this? Why are you bugging me? Chelsea--” 

“I don’t want Chelsea, she’s a slut. She’s easy. She gets the job done,” he sneers. 

You shake your head and blow out a cloud of warmth into the crisp air, “I’m sure there are other--” 

“You,” he says tersely, “that’s it. No one else.” 

You close your eyes and shudder, “I... I’m not interested... like that, Andy. I just was being friendly because it’s my job. Can’t you understand?” 

“I don’t understand,” he snarls, “I’m a lawyer, I’m good-looking, I take good care of myself and I could do the same for you. You wouldn’t have to work in some shitty bookstore.” 

You flutter your lashes and shake your head, “I...” 

“What? Why don’t you want me?” He leans over the seat further, glaring at you. 

“How old are you?” You blurt out, immediately sealing your lips in regret. 

He scoffs, “and how old are you? Bit over the hill to be in retail, huh? I know you’re not some college kid getting a few extra bucks. You’re a grown woman, your life is a mess. You need someone like me.” 

You huff, “I need you to leave me alone.” 

He clucks and sits up. The car idles in front of you as he sits silently. He grips the real and clears his throat, “I’ll be seeing you for dinner. Aunt Jo sure is sweet, maybe you could learn a thing or two from her.” 

The window rolls up before you can spit back a retort. The mention of your aunt flares in your chest. How dare he. You know it’s more than a snipe at you, he’s not saying her name for nothing. It’s a threat. 

He steers away down the snowy road, the snow packing beneath the weight of the car. You watch his headlights stop at the corner before you kick through the snow. Fuck. 

[bonbon-bonny]

I don't usually write a whole lot but I wanted to talk about this for a moment

Ahem. *flips through notes*

So I loooove Sailor Moon. Specifically the 90s version. It was my favorite show growing up. My home life was difficult and to see someone like Usagi with a perfect family, a perfect boyfriend etc. getting to live her best life despite the fact she herself wasn't perfect was too easy to become a bit obsessive over ^_^;

well, let's just say I wanted to be Usagi just a bit too much because my world, my family (Side note: I looove my family! They did the best they could to take care of me growing up, but we had to deal with an unusual circumstance that made it hard for all of us), heck just even being myself didn't feel good enough and frankly it left me having to confront a lot of issues just to be okay with who I am now.

And of course ,naturally, I looooved Tuxedo Kamen XD. On the outside to me, he seemed perfect; a knight in shining armor.

But I always kept running into a particular conversation which is "why do you like him so much tho? He seems like a jerk. He seems so different from her. He never shows her affection. She'd be better off with someone like Seiya who's more on her level. He's useless. He's bad for trying to help her because she's a girl boss and doesn't need to be rescued." Like, seriously the amount of criticism I've heard towards this character is wild and he literally gets attacked no matter what he does.

And you know I get it. If you just look at it from a surface level it's easy to maybe get that impression of him but after one particular conversation I was having with a friend of mine about it I stopped and asked myself why. Why does she like him? why does he like her? how can two people who outwardly look so different from each other ever be in a healthy relationship? what could the two of them possibly have in common?

So I did what I do best and I watched the show I grew up with carefully. I observed him. I watched the things he said and did. And in the end I reached several conclusions.

Mamoru isn't perfect, at least in the beginning, but he's always trying to do his best to be. With almost anyone else in the show he's usually calm, collected and somewhat reserved. The only person besides Motoki he seems to act out a bit with if you can call it that IS Usagi and half of the time it's not even that he's actually being mean.

[IF you watch the Japanese version with subtitles, because in the English dub? Ooph! they changed so much of his dialogue and gave him such a smirky voice it's hard to listen to him without wanting to punch him in the face imo.]

It's that the way she perceives him is off. Also, sometimes it's not even HIM that starts the arguments.

Sometimes SHE'S the one who starts their spats and he snaps back at her. Sometimes she hits him with shoes and papers and doesn't seem to care.

One episode that comes to mind is the Dreamland episode where the toy train stops and she rams into him. All he did was look at her and say hi and immediately she got defensive and started making fun of him.

Making fun of an orphan sitting on a toy train who most likely was just trying to do something fun that he never got to because he didn't HAVE a family to take him as a kid.

Seriously. If you were to be in his place, going through this world, it's rather scary, stressful, terrifying, and uncertain.

He didn't get a magical talking cat to walk him through his powers. Instead he got seizures and psychic visions, and a past life version of himself that took over his body without consent until he finally got the rainbow crystal and understood what was happening around him.

He gets amnesia not once but twice, kidnapped several times, and gets trapped in his own mind twice ala brainwashing by beryl and Nehelenia and by stars I wouldn't be surprised if half of the reason he went to study abroad instead of staying with Usagi is because he was afraid if he did he'd only continue to be a burden for her, because the man hardly has any dialogue and seems almost catatonic.

Also let's be real here. As amazing as it was for him to meet and talk with his future self it probably scared him. The responsibility of literally being King of the world, of making decisions that could impact the lives of everyone in tremendous ways. Of being the kind of partner and provider he thinks Usagi deserves or being a good father for Chibi-Usa when he didn't get to have parents to show him what those things looked like.

He didn't get a loving family to support him or tell him that they loved him, he was an orphan who probably hoped someone would eventually rescue him but no one ever did.

He probably feels in his heart that he doesn't deserve to be loved by anyone, and even if someone were to pursue him romantically he probably couldn't reciprocate in any meaningful way because he's most likely too closed off emotionally to be in a healthy relationship with anyone.

Heck the guy only for the most part has only two best friends. Motoki and Saori and frankly I'd hardly even call Saori a best friend since she literally just shows up in an episode in Super S as "Romantic competition" for Usagi and then just ups and vanishes and is never mentioned ever ever again.

So how does someone like him see Usagi and wind up constantly sacrificing his life over and over again for her?

Three words:

She. Sees. Him.

Once she starts to look at him a bit differently instead of seeing him as some tall guy running around with his stupid green jacket with his prickly personality, once she realizes that it was him trying to rescue her when she was so close to the brink of death on occasions and getting injured in the process, once he opens up to her about his struggles she sees him. Not just because he's a hero, but because even if it's hard for him he still tries to help her. A lot of times he even gives her really sound advice that she winds up listening to even if at the time he tells her she doesn't seem to understand him and takes it the wrong way.

He probably also deep down worries that he truly doesn't deserve someone like her.

Even if we don't always see it from the outside he adores Usagi because she sees him for who he is and doesn't ask him to be more outgoing or different.

Usagi adores him because he doesn't ask her to be anything other than who she really is.

Both of them accept the other as they truly are inside. THAT is true love.

You don't really get the chance to see what their relationship looks like from the outside. But he smiles a lot when he's with her which is certainly not something he really ever did with Rei or anyone else from what I could tell. And I bet when he does take her out on dates he's embarrassed and flustered and stumbles but he also probably takes off his mask and tries to make her happy and have a good time.

Also I'd like to add some notes on King Endymion and the violet. Why so much violet? Like....an overwhelming amount of violet XD I never understood why when I was younger but as I've grown up I've spent some time delving into subjects such as Psychology, Spirituality, and Philosophy.

Ladies and gentlemen, Violet is the color of the crown chakra.

https://www.chakras.info/crown-chakra/

Crown chakras deal with the mental and the spiritual. They are a gateway to enlightenment and in my opinion perhaps one could even say that the journey of mental health and enlightenment are two sides of the same coin.

So I'd like to think that for as much as Mamoru might struggle with his mental health, he also walked the path towards true enlightenment. Such a man truly should be King of the World and is more than deserving of being Usagi's partner.

And I'd die for a relationship with a man who is brave enough to confront the things which makes him suffer because I'd know that he'd have the clarity of mind to be a good partner, to treat me with kindness and compassion and show me the kind of love I've always dreamed of having, and that's something only someone who has love for themselves and others could ever possibly be able to give. He doesn't need to be perfect, because perfection is unattainable. He just needs to be brave enough to try even if it makes him deeply uncomfortable at times.

So,

To the men who truly and deeply identify with Mamoru, know I'd marry you in a heartbeat if you asked. That if you showered me in chocolate and flowers I'd do the exact same thing for you because you deserve it. Anyone who is brave enough to do the work necessary to heal and grow, to have kindness and compassion for others, to show me that even if I'm not perfect that it's still okay to be myself around you deserves every happiness in the world.

Not everyone is brave enough to do such a thing and I've come to a point in my life where I'm not interested in what someone can give me externally as much as I am in the kind of person they choose to be and what their values are.

Maybe some people might look at someone like Mamoru and judge him, but Usagi most certainly never would once she got to know him; and considering I've always wanted to be her I'll die on this hill defending him. Out of everyone, Usagi WOULD defend him from the judgement, from the criticism, of the need to be perfect and wear masks, or be something other than what he truly is on the inside.

Mamoru is more than just a knight in shining armor,

He's beautiful imperfection; and I'd choose that over anything else any day.

@heavyheartedprinceofearth

[breakfastteatime]

Today's Fallen Order request is "That looks broken" for @blueflowertea

The sun shines outside, flowers bloom, Greez has freshly baked bread cooling in the galley and all is calm and quiet aboard the ship. The others have ventured into a nearby market, leaving Greez with the whole ship to himself. He’s set the navicomp to run maintenance routines, the deck is sparking from his intense scrubbing, he baked the aforementioned bread (mostly to get rid of the odour of whatever the heck Cal tracked in from their last stop on an honest-to-great-grandma swamp planet), and the refresher hasn’t been that tidy since the day the ship left the production line.

All in all, Greez has had a very productive day while the others go gallivanting, with their ‘the Force is calling me’ and ‘I wish to see a new world’ and scanning, always scanning. It’s the first time in too long Greez has been able to play his own music on the sound system too. Apparently Latero lounge funk is nauseating for Humans. And Greez means that literally – both Cere and Cal get all woozy and pale if he tries playing it. It makes Merrin giggle uncontrollably in a genuinely dangerous to her health kind of way.

Greez makes himself a cup of caf and prepares to sit down, maybe catch a pod race, when he hears familiar voices approaching. He switches off his music and watches BD lead the way. That’s unusual. He rarely puts his own feet on the ground unless…

Greez looks up. Cal is on his feet, conscious and limping. Cere and Merrin follow, Merrin looking extremely pleased with herself while Cere looks like she’s ready to catch Cal at a moment’s notice.

“What happened?” Greez asks.

“Cal did not look where he was going,” Merrin says. “He tripped over a market stall.”

“And did such a great job putting it back together the stall owner wasn’t even mad at me!” Cal flops down onto the couch. Good thing Greez didn’t get around to cleaning that off today. He’s covered in soil. “And I was looking where I was going. I just got distracted. Totally different problem.”

“Yes, you see something shiny, and all other thoughts fall out of your head,” Merrin says.

“Nah, that’s BD, right, buddy?”

BD cackles and dashes off to scan the terrarium.

“Take your boot off,” Cere says.

“I twisted it, Cere, it’s nothing.”

“Take your boot off. Greez, grab me the medscanner.”

Greez never, ever, messes with Cere when she’s using this tone of voice. Cal, on the other hand, is not that wise.

“I twisted my ankle. Some ice, a few stretches, it’ll be fine.”

“And how are you going to apply the ice with the boot on? Take it off. Now.”

Merrin snorts. Cal levels a glare at her. She heads off into her and Cere’s cabin. Greez hands over the scanner to Cere. He gives Cal a nudge. “There’s no need to turn this into a fight,” he whispers.

It isn’t much of a flashpoint, but it’s one nonetheless and despite all this time together, no one has managed to iron out Cal’s ‘I’ll work through anything’ mentality. On top of that, he’s a young man who clearly wants to spread his wings. Greez gets it, he really does, but sometimes Cal needs a reminder he isn’t immortal. No, it’s simpler than that. Sometimes, he needs reminders that he doesn’t need to be in pain constantly.

With much eye-rolling and amateur dramatics, Cal reaches for his boot. He pulls, and Greez watches him literally go several shades paler. A funny gasp emerges from him, and he grabs the couch cushions, knuckles bleaching white. Greez hears Cere take a breath, ready to lecture, and reaches over to whack her on the arm. The woman really needs to know when to push and when to shut up.

It’s slow and painful (literally for Cal, based on how much he’s sweating), but the boot comes off.

Greez can’t help himself. “That looks broken.”

Cal is silent as Cere scans the obvious problem. Greez grabs an icepack, ready to put on the injury the moment they have confirmation.

“Yes,” Cere says. “Broken. It’s a hairline fracture, so a bone knitter and a few days of rest will fix it right up.” She reaches into the medkit once more and pulls out said knitter. Definitely an essential purchase, one they’d made not long after meeting Cal.

Head shaking, Cal tries to pull away. “I don’t need to rest it, I can manage.”

Certain he knows why Cal thinks he can ‘manage’, Greez slaps the icepack down just hard enough to catch Cal, who hisses and levels a glare at him. “You are resting it. Consider the rest of us at your beck and call.”

Cal pauses, turning the thought around. “Everyone?”

Greez nods. “Merrin!” Cal bellows at the top of his lungs. “You’re at my beck and call! Grab me a drink, please!”

[nanawritesit]

Irene Girlfriend Headcanons!

She prefers that you call her “Joohyun” rather than Irene. She wants to feel like you know the real her instead of her stage presence.

Speaking of which, she often slips into her Daegu dialect around you

You were never intimidated by her like everyone else was, you were warm and loving regardless of how “scary” she seemed

It took her a while to open up to you about her inner thoughts and feelings. She’s so used to bottling it all up in order to be a good leader that she doesn’t stop to think when she might need help

But you help her with that, constantly reassuring every single one of her insecurities. Even when she doesn’t ask, you’ll always be the first one to tell her she’s done well!

She cooks you seaweed soup every year for your birthday just like she does for the members 💚

Ordering her tea for her whenever you’re at a coffee shop because she’s too afraid of being judged by the barista for not liking coffee

Eating her vegetables for her (if you like them ofc)

Finally convincing her to stop dying her hair and stick with her natural black color because it’s her favorite and it suits her best

It took her a long time to accept it, but Joohyun is a lover of the simple things in life. You guys don’t need any extravagant outings or fancy gifts to be happy! Things like reading together, watching the sunset, taking walks, listening to music, cooking her favorite tteokbokki… those are what draw you together.

Holding her while she cries watching “The Notebook”

You started keeping perfumes in your car and carrying essential oils with you everywhere since she’s so sensitive to smells

You also help bring her back down to Earth when she starts spacing out, waving a hand in front of her face and never making a huge fuss over it. You just remind her what she was talking about and continue on with your conversation

Joohyun is also a lover of solitude. However you’re the only one she makes an exception for. She loves taking you to Ttukseom Island or the Folk Museum in Bukcheon. They’re her happy places and she wants to share them with you!

Because of her, you started keeping a journal. The two of you have nights where you just sit in silence and write together 🥰

She won’t hesitate to correct you on your spelling and grammar, even over text 😑

You feel like you learn something new about her every day. She’s always so reserved, and her mind runs at a mile a minute, so every once in a while she’ll just drop this huge piece of Joohyun lore that takes you by surprise

Always giving her your fortune cookies and lottery tickets because she just has so much good luck

If you play video games or do puzzles, and you just can’t get pass a certain stage, she’ll just walk over and figure it out for you in seconds, and it leaves you baffled every time

Making her show you how the heck she can draw a perfect circle (you still can’t understand after a thousand times)

She has a tendency to “mother” you. (Doing your laundry, making you go to bed early, telling you take your vitamins and drink water…) You’ll have to explain to her that while you appreciate her trying to help, she doesn’t need to worry about you so much!

She’s still going to do your laundry though. She just loves doing it too much not to.

I hope you don’t mind having a high heat bill, because Joohyun cannot handle the cold! (If not, you’ll have to loan her several of your hoodies and blankets!)

Comforting her whenever she encounters heights, water, or loud noises

Her manager tried to tell her to avoid PDA with you to protect her image and avoid a scandal, but she just can’t stop herself from holding your hand or clinging to your arm!

Once word gets out that the two of you are dating, she really has no problem telling the fans that while she hopes they can be supportive, she’s going to be with you whether they like it or not.

She would give up everything if it meant she could stay with you, and you would do the same for her in a heartbeat 💜