#phew managed to get this done!

[multicolour-ink]

Pre Canon prompt:

Mama Mario goes in for her ultrasound and finds out she's having twins.

But when she's shown the sonogram, she sees something that even baffles the technician: how the two fetuses seem to be hugging each other.

She takes the video and shows it to the family, with whatever reactions you want them to have.

And when she comes back for the other ultrasounds, it keeps happening. They may change positions or one may switch to hugging other, but there's always something like that going on.

And then, for the ending, when they're born, I'd LOVE for this to connect to Don’t Let Go, where you mentioned a memory of them seeing each other for the first time.

Request - Non Prompt

Whist I have mentioned I do not do requests, I did want to do this idea very badly, and only if someone sent it as a request. So here we are! Hope you like this @jellyfishinc!

Mentions of babies in the womb and various other pregancy related stuff.

Please note I am not an obstetrician, nor do I know that much about pregnancy or what is normally expected to be seen during an ultrasound, besides what I have read and been told.

Takes place pre-Mario Movie verse.

Mama Mario is called 'Mia' (as is headcanoned by the fandom)

- - -

I've Never Left Your Side

It was quite a joyous occasion, to say the least!

The moment the now soon to be parents had announced that they were expecting, the whole house was filled with the cheers and cries of elation! Marie had hugged Mia, Arthur had burst into tears, while Tony had joked about "getting a hole in one", until his eldest brother had threatened to throw him out the door!

"We must get ready for the new bambino!", said the now soon to be Nonno, who had neither cheered nor cried, but had sat there grinning ear to ear at the news.

Everyone had of course wanted to pitch in. Marie even taking the soon to be parents (and Arthur much to his reluctance) out to the baby stores.

* * *

It wasn't until they had to go to their first scan, at 12 weeks, did things really take a surprise!

"Well", said the obstetrician. "It seems to me everything is looking healthy. And by such wonderful luck, you're having twins!"

He pointed out the two moving shapes on the screen to the still stunned parents. Mia was clutching her husband's hand, her smile instantly wide and tears wetting her cheeks. The man who sat beside her was dumbfounded.

Two babies. Two babies. Who were there as dark shapes on the monitor (later Papa would admit that they looked like jelly beans to him). It was so much to take in.

The obstetrician carefully moved the scanner around on the woman's bump, so the he could get a slightly better look at the twins.

And what he saw made the obstetrician raise an eyebrow. One of the foetuses seemed to be "reaching" for the other, an arm outstretched to the full. The other was also reaching out, but seemingly more timidly. It was as if they were both expecting to hold hands.

""Well, they seem to know the other is there", chuckled the obstetrician. Congratulations you two."

The parents were beaming.

The two hugged each other before they drove back home, and Mia clutched the print of the ultrasound close to her heart the whole way.

* * *

They knew they weren't going to hear the end of it when they told everyone. And as expected, when they made the announcement at dinner, the uproar was tremendous.

Arthur burst out laughing so loud that Marie had to hit him on the back so he wouldn't choke on his wine. Tony spluttered and nudged his older brother.

"Hey he got two holes in one!"

His brother turned very red, and after a quick glance at his wife's expression that told him 'no it wasn't a good idea to consider throwing Tony out onto incoming traffic', he settled down, and informed the family that they would need to get two of everything, and that they would find out the gender on the next scan.

* * *

The next weeks passed by in a blur. Everyone was busy chipping in to provide any necessary means for the babies. As for the expectant mother, she had been surprisingly taking it all in her stride. Despite the occasional nausea and uncomfortableness, she was still beaming through it all. And she would always be rubbing her stomach and talking to the babies quietly when she had down time.

He husband on the other hand, had proven to be quite the mother hen during all this! He would call from work every 2 hours, asking if she was alright, and would promise to bring her whatever she needed. Of course things went a bit too far when he stole the sheets from all of the family beds, and was not able to replace them on account of the fact he had stolen every other piece of bedding from the cupboard.

It also didn't help that his work colleagues had frightened him with tales of their own children's births, and stuff about blood, and other terrifying things that could happen. Naturally they were just playing around, but it had frightened the soon to be father so much, that it took a call to the obstetrician to debunk these ridiculous claims. He had calmed down after that. A little.

He came back from work one day to find his wife sitting on the couch, her hands pressed gently on her tummy, smiling fondly.

She smiled up at him as he came in.

"Come feel", she whispered.

He eagerly came over. Sitting beside her, he gently pressed his larger palm onto her stomach. Instantly, he felt the tiny patter of movement, and his eyes shone.

His wife took a look at the first ultrasound photo.

"Do you think they will get along?", she asked.

He hesitated, unsure how to reply. But before he could think of anything, she turned to him and grinned.

"I think they will", she said. "I think they love each other already.

He husband smiled back and took her in his arms.

* * *

The second, and last, scan was to be more nerve-racking.

"Looks like everything is going smoothly", said the obstetrician as he moved the scanner around.

"This is the baby that will be born first", he said, pointing to the screen. "A bit bigger than the other, but not too much difference."

Then he suddenly frowned.

"That's...a little unusual", he said.

The parents leaned forward. What they saw was an extraordinary sight. The two babies, now at 24 weeks and not yet fully developed, seemed to be pressed against each other. The larger twin, for as tight as the room in there was, had its head angled in a way that its forehead was very close to the other twin's. The smaller twin in turn, was snuggled close to their sibling.

As the three of them watched, the smaller twin began to squirm, almost like they were having a bad dream. But the larger twin (to their astonishment) raised a hand and moved it slowly and carefully against the space near its twin's head. And all at once, the smaller twin became still and calm.

The three adults in the room were silent. Then Mia turned to her husband, and he knew immediately what she was thinking.

"They won't be able to feel each other", explained the obstetrician. "I doubt they are even aware of each other's touch yet. It's more likely the shared space and weight of each other they are aware of."

"Please can we take a copy with us?", the woman pleaded.

"Of course, smiled the obstetrician.

"Would you be able to tell us the gender?", Papa blurted out, almost forgetting in the rush of excitement.

"Certainly!", replied the obstetrician.

He ran some more scans, took some readings, then he turned to the expectant parents.

"Well", he said, his smile gentle. "You two are having twin boys."

* * *

The lead up to the birth was yet another blur. As soon as the whole household was aware that twin boys were arriving, the excitement was even more abuzz.

Mia had taken to spending the last months of her pregnancy making matching hats for her sons. One red, one green. Both with initials for the chosen names the parents (and by extension the rest of the family) had agreed on.

Her husband had come back from work one evening to find her once again working on this project.

"You need to rest", he fretted. "The doctor said you need your strength when...", he trailed off.

"I'm fine", Mia laughed. "I am tired, but I will go to bed as soon as I finish this stitching."

Her husband sat across from her. He continued to watch as she sewed the initial (an M) on the red hat.

"I wonder what they will be like", he said. A smile crept under his moustache.

Mia stopped her work, and put her hand onto her stomach. She closed her eyes, then opened them again with a content sigh.

"I think...they'll have each other."

Her husband frowned. Then he spotted the printout of the last scan lying beside her.

He hesitated.

"The doctor did say that they can't really feel each other. I mean...it is unusual. But one of the guys at work...well he was saying that his friend had twins and...well they didn't get along. They still don't. I mean, they are siblings, they get along like that, but they were different...and..."

"Whatever they are like", said Mia, dragging her husband out of his thoughts, "Whatever they choose to be as people, we will love them. And I know they will love each other."

She held out her hand. She couldn't lean forward now due to her vast stomach, so her husband leaned forward instead, and gently clasped her hand in his own.

She rubbed her stomach again

"I just...have this feeling. I feel like...they know each other already..."

Her husband didn't have anything else to add, and just sat with her in content silence.

* * *

The new papa was crying.

His sons. Their sons, were perfect.

After many hours of labour and frantic panic, they were here. Lying side by side in their mother's arms, sleeping peacefully.

"They're beautiful", Mia cried, as her husband gently stroked his large finger down each of the twin's cheeks.

"And they have each other", her husband smiled.

Both the twins seemed to stir. Then very slowly, they opened their eyes for the first time, and peered at each other.

Neither parent could ever say what kind of exchange was happening between them, but as the babies smiled and took each other in, they seemed to say

"Hi. I know you."

[dante-winning-archive]

Happy Birthday @vergil-losing-archive !!! <3

[queenharumiura]

[ SHIELD ]:     in order to protect them from physical harm caused by a third party, the sender shoves the receiver against the wall and shields them with their body. (From any of my KHR muses, your choice!)

Taken from meme: [x] ||Accepting|| I chose: Enma (Looook... I'm biased for red hair and the nose band aid)

At this point, Haru didn’t even know if she started running from the dog or if she was following suit with what Enma was doing. It all happened so fast, she couldn’t remember what was going on, but all she knows… is that the dog was a big one and it was barking. A bit scary, honestly.

“Eep!” She gets pushed into a wall and she feels herself caged against it with his body. How things turned out this way, she’s not entirely sure, get back to her in two business days and maybe she’ll have processed what just happened in time.

Perhaps this was a very energetic dog to put it kindly. It was dangerous when put negatively.

While she wasn’t too acquainted with Enma, it was touching to know that he wasn’t the sort who would just leave a person out to get turned into dog chow. ‘His poor jacket, though…’  On the bright side, it was just his jacket and the dog hadn’t actually sank any teeth into Enma himself. She could still see it shaking it’s head vigorously as if it was trying to shake him like a ragdoll, however.

“Hahi… how scary.” She tries to think of something, and remembers that she had something in her bag, but she didn’t know if it would work? Well… sorry Jiro, sacrifices had to be made. She remembers that she should still have some dog treats in her bag and she rummages through the many pockets, searching for them. She does find them in a small bag eventually and she tosses it aside, prompting the dog to let go of Enma’s jacket.

Looking behind her, she can see that the wall wasn’t that tall. Her many years of hoisting herself atop of walls to use them to practice her balancing was going to come in handy. It was a simple, jump, grab onto the edge and hoist yourself up. Don’t underestimate the upper body strength of a gymnast. She gets herself on the wall and she holds her hand out for Enma, “I can help pull you up. Quickly, before the dog comes back.” Hopefully her support would prevent him from falling right back down with how clumsy he was.

Well, knowing her luck, she’d get dragged back down with him. Well, that’s a risk she was willing to take.

[vsingers]

been playing so many video games lately

[f1daydreamers]

𝐀 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨 [𝐋𝐒𝟏𝟖] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟓

photo credits: Pinterest

Pairing: Lance Stroll × Fem!Reader

Summary: Asking the driver of the team you work for to attend a wedding with you as your fake date is possibly one of the dumbest ideas you've had ever.. but also one of the best.

Warnings: injury, one bed trope but actually no catfishing this time lols, mentions of exes, lotttta feels, yep that's it methinks :)

A/N: I'm going to start wrapping this up in the next few chapters, phew, it's been a journey but there's still a while to go :D Thank you for the support, the likes, the reposts, it all means so much and doesn't go unnoticed!

Please don't be silent readers, I always want to hear your thoughts :)

Word Count: 3.1k words (11 mins reading time avg)

…

You had been restlessly shifting and unable to fall asleep for nearly an hour. The clock blinked, taunting you as the minutes seemed to drag on.

Rather than persisting in unsuccessful attempts to find comfort in the sheets of your bed, you swung your legs over and picked yourself up, firmly placing both feet on the floor.

After a moment, you managed to stand up, slightly unsteady as you slipped your feet into your slippers and maneuvered around the bed's edges to reach the door.

Glancing back at Lance, who was deeply immersed in sleep, you opened the door rather hesitantly, taking care as to not disturb him. You left the door slightly cracked open, walking over to the bathroom.

As the light from the hallway seeped through said crack in the door, the F1 driver roused from his slumber, disturbed by the sudden brightness shining on to his eyes. He rolled over to the other side, seeking a respite from it.

Half-awake now, he distinctly heard a faucet begin running in the otherwise silent house, lifting only his head to turn and squint at your empty bed.

His head lazily sank back on to the pillow. He held on to the hope that when you returned, you would close the door anyway, allowing him to roll back over to his preferred side, finding his current one rather uncomfortable.

As if on cue, the door creaked open. However, the expected sound of the door clicking shut did not follow, causing him to groan inwardly.

Lance contemplated whether to get up himself, but instead, reasoned that his preferred course of action would entail zero movement.

“Y/N?” His voice croaked out, a given at this time of night.

You hummed, not using your words. “Could you close the door? The light.. y’know. M’sorry.”

“Sure,” you mumbled, retracing your steps and pushing the palm of your hand into the door until you felt it click shut.

As you fumbled around in the darkness, attempting to locate the edge of the bed, a sharp pang of pain shot through your shin when it unexpectedly collided with the bedpost.

“Ow, motherfu..” You gasped out as quietly as you could, leaning down to rub the aching area. You hissed through your teeth when you struggled to straighten it.

“You okay?” You heard Lance ask, his voice heavy and laced with grogginess. “Yep.” You breathed out, but it came out sounding like a cry for help instead.

You found yourself hopping on one leg in an effort to reach the edge of the bed and eventually sat down, wincing in discomfort.

He shifted his body back to his original side, noticing you sitting upright at the opposite end of the bed, with your head lowered.

He removed the covers over his legs and slowly got up from the air mattress; in his defence, he tried to do it as quickly as his current state would allow him. “Is that how you sleep? Worrying.”

You exhaled through your nose at the sound of his deeper than usual voice, pulling your feet towards you as he walked over to turn the lamp on. “Elbow? Leg? Head?”

“Yes, they’re all body parts, well done.” He breathily scoffed, the mattress dipping as he took a seat. “Which one? I heard the thud.”

You met his eyes for a brief moment, then pointed at your right knee. “May I?” He tilted his chin towards your leg and you could swear that blood was rushing to your face, you swallowed then nodded.

Lance rested his weight on to his knee, tentatively reaching for the hem of your loose pajama trousers and continuing to fold them up until he reached the part you’d pointed at a moment ago.

He gestured for you to hold the rolled up hem as he assessed your knee with concerned eyes. His focus held a certain charm, yet you forced yourself to interpret it as mere kindness, intentionally avoiding reading too much into the situation. He’s an F1 driver, he’ll know what to be looking for if you had bruised it at all.

His thumb stretched the skin on your knee, and he tried hard to ignore the goosebumps that arose on your leg following the contact.

“It’s swelling up, how bad does it hurt?”

Your heart began beating stupidly faster when his eyes glanced up to meet your gaze. “Uh, not much. Just when I straighten it, it’s a little painful.”

“Alright, let me get an ice pack. It should help reduce the swelling a little.” You felt his breath fan over your skin and you covered your leg again shortly after he rose up.

Before you had room to disagree, he was already halfway out of the door and heading downstairs.

The lingering scent of his cologne, a blend of petrichor and wood, filled the room, even hours after he had sprayed it on. You’d grown oddly accustomed to the fragrance, finding it.. comforting? As if it belonged, had a home here.

You looked up when he slipped back inside of the room minutes later. “Got some frozen peas, no ice packs. Should do the trick though.” He countered, whispering. He wrapped it in the tea towel he’d also stolen from the kitchen.

“You need help lying down?” You shook your head and shoved both fists into your mattress to hoist yourself further on to the bed but struggled to lift your leg. Lance spared no moment when he saw the muted pain on your face, promptly positioning his hand under your calf.

“Take it slow.” He advised, resting it on the bed, you again felt your heart flutter at how careful he was being.

He sat near your knee, placing the bag of frozen peas on it and you flinched from the sudden coldness. After a brief moment of silence, you spoke up.

"I'm sorry for waking you up," you apologised.

“It’s alright,” he assured you, smiling a little. “You owe me twice now, anything I want remember?” A blush crept onto your cheeks as you pressed your lips together, averting your gaze from his infectious smile.

"You say that like you’ve made your mind up already," you remarked, a hint of curiosity in your tone.

He shrugged, repositioning the frozen pack on your skin. "I have a few ideas. Just need to narrow them down to two.”

The smile never left his face and you rolled your eyes, “gotta clean the bathroom too I bet.” He laughed, still refusing to give away what he was thinking.

"Thanks for doing this." He dismissed your gratitude with a wave of his hand. He was getting tired of sitting upright and thus gestured for you to scoot over.

You did so eventually, he laid besides you but with a noticeable distance between your bodies. His upper back was leaned on the headboard, "I'll stay for 20 minutes or so then take the.. peas off."

You smiled, mumbling a small "okay."

Eventually, you both got lost in talking. While the conversations weren't profoundly intricate, they revolved around light subjects such as work and the dreadful next few days here.

Amidst it all, you found yourself laughing at one of Lance's numerous stories, often requiring you to press a hand against your mouth to suppress the bursts of laughter.

He moves to sit up and remove the bag of peas from your knee, turning to set it on your bedside table with the towel included. "You should keep it elevated." He mumbles and runs his tongue along his bottom lip, then stands up to grab the pillows from his air mattress.

He comes back over before you can really understand what he's doing, positioning them so they're below your calf, keeping your leg raised. "Lance, you don't have pillows anymore."

"Good for the spine." You scoff, "and for psychos." He pulls the duvet over you, bidding you a goodnight but you reach for his hand to stop him from walking away. You wrap it around his fingers, and he could swear his heart overlooked a beat.

"Don't be ridiculous. Take them back. Or better yet-", You pause before you finish your sentence and Lance's head turns but not enough to meet your lingering stare.

"Stay. I- I could use the company."

He swallows the words stuck in his throat, his fingers twitching against yours and he smiles a nervous smile. "I usually go on a few dates before the bed territory gets crossed." He turns to look at you and you retract your fingers from his.

You chuckle, "it's up to you."

"Only because you asked so nicely." He remarked. With a nervous swallow, you can't help but question why you're subjecting yourself to this internal turmoil.

The sensible thing to do would be to ignore these feelings until the weekend concludes and revert back to the way things were, colleagues with a tenuous friendship. Yet, contrary to that, you find yourself seizing every opportunity to grow closer to him.

Lance climbs into the bed after turning the lamp off, faffing with his pillow before plopping his head on to it. You extend half of your duvet to him and he pulls it just so it covers his legs. He bends his arm behind his head and eventually closes his eyes.

You turn your head towards him, though his features are no longer clearly discernible in the dim lighting. However, the sky taking on a deep blue hue, rather than being pitch black, helps you in outlining the contours of his nose, his jawline, his cheeks.

You eventually succumb to the dreariness washing over you, the frantic beating of your heart slowing. You ponder in a hazy manner about the eventual time that you have to revert back to a mere professional relationship with Lance Stroll, considering the infatuation that now you're a captive of.

Each gentle touch from him quickens your heartbeat, and every glance he casts your way sends your head into a whirlwind. His smile occupies your thoughts relentlessly, even in his absence. His scent is like a combination of rosewood and aftershave, you cosy up to it as if its the last one you'll ever smell.

You close your eyes, a light smile painted on your lips.

...

You woke up the following morning to find your head resting on his forearm, inches away from where it connected with his shoulder, your hand flat on his chest. You were laying on your side and you held your breath when you tilted your squinted gaze up to see his peaceful state.

You didn't want to wake him up, you wanted to relish this moment and appreciate it as if it was real. As if this unspoken connection the two of you shared was laid out in the open and no longer a secret caged by your ribs, consuming your heart.

You shut your eyes again when Lance stirred, pretending you were asleep to anticipate his reaction when he realised what was happening, or what had happened. You vaguely remember having quite a bit of distance between yourself and him when you fell asleep.

He brought his free hand up to rub his eyes, inhaling a deep breath through his nose then exhaling seconds later as his consciousness caught up with him. Your hand followed a similar rhythm, mirroring the steady rise and fall of his chest.

His fingers rested atop of yours as he came to terms with what was happening, blinking a few times then wincing in discomfort at the tenseness of his upper arm. He didn't know how long you'd been laying on it but it was certainly throbbing. He folded his arm to relieve some of the tension, his hand lightly skimming the exposed skin under the hem of your top, tracing circles with the pad of his thumb on your waist.

His touch caused your body to instantly tense up, stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you. The simple act of singular motions on your skin ignited a storm of chaos.

He didn't mean to stare but he couldn't help it either. Under the morning sun, the soft contours of your shut eyes, the curves of your cheeks and the bump on your nose wasn't something Lance could openly admire without arousing your curiousity.

You hummed, knowing if you continued on with your eyes closed, you'd fall back asleep again. Your ears perked at a distant door squeaking open in the hallway, telling you it was nearing breakfast time. You slowly looked up to see Lance's head turned to his phone, he was scrolling through his notifications he'd recieved while he was asleep.

You didn't know if he thought you were still asleep, but when you slid your hand off of his chest to bring it to your head, swiping some of the sweat you'd gathered during the night off of your forehead, he set his phone down.

"Morning," he greeted you, his eyes a little puffy and a prominent wrinkle between his brows, yet still a grin on those pink lips.

"Good mornin'", you returned his greeting.

"Can I just-", he began but you took the hint when he removed his hand from your skin, picking his forearm up so your head was at a slight level. "Oh, sorry." He curved his arm around then stretched it out in front of him, satisifed when some life returned to it.

You rolled over to the other side, taking your phone off charge to check it in case you'd missed anything. You climbed out of the covers eventually, standing up but you quickly were forced down again when the limbs in your leg had instantly turned into jelly.

Lance chuckled behind you, "forget what happened last night?"

"Ah, I thought it had gotten better." You answered truthfully, you didn't have time to worry about this. Your brother was getting married today and you were supposed to be heading to the venue soon to get ready with your sister.

"I'll just have to wrap a bandage around it, my dress will cover it anyway."

...

The rest of the morning went by in a blur. Kevin is eagerly awaiting for his bride to come down the aisle in all of her glory, you'd seen her earlier and she was halfway through her hair and makeup, you couldn't imagine just how beautiful she'd look now.

You're sat at the front sandwiched between your mother and sister who are constantly looking over their shoulders, being unable to contain their excitement but annoyingly, all that is running through your mind is the enchanting smile, the playful eyes, and the wonderfully sculpted body belonging to Lance Stroll.

The atmosphere filled with a harmonious symphony of piano melodies, delighting everyone present. The guests rose from their seats, eagerly acknowledging her arrival, their smiles reflecting the grace she exuded.

As you observed, a smile formed on your lips in response to the tears welling up in your brother's eyes. He wasn't known for displaying emotions openly, making this moment particularly special in ways that perhaps you couldn't comprehend right now.

You take a deep breath as she leaves her father's arms and joins him at the altar.

You hadn't seen Lance since this morning but you knew you had to mask indifference towards him romantically while simulataneously pretending he was the man you were in love with. It really didn't seem difficult but the shortness of breath and the butterflies in your stomach you were experiencing every breathing moment he was near you was not helping your case.

You casually turn your head to try and catch sight of him but you can't place his princely brown hair anywhere in the crowd of people on the other side of the venue hall.

As the celebrant starts the ceremony script, you nonchalantly continued scanning the surroundings in search of him. The inability to spot him raises doubts in your mind - did he choose not to attend? You were confident that he had received an invitation, extended by the groom who had developed a fraternal fondness for him during the dinner rehearsal.

You find yourself wishing he'd given you a heads-up about his absence, or at the very least, informed you that he was contemplating it. However, in an instant, your emotions undergo a sudden shift as your wandering eyes lock onto an attractive face. A smile graces his features as he watches you smile back at him, assuming a grin of a lovesick girlfriend.

He was dressed in a black suit with his top button undone, his hair slightly neater than when he woke up beside you this morning. Seeing him in formal attire is a new sight. And he undeniably looks good.

You tear your eyes away at the light slap on your thigh from your mom, telling you to keep your head forward for the photographer.

Following her instructions, you shift your gaze from the bridesmaids to the groomsmen, eventually fixing your eyes on Thomas, the final member in the line of five. He was filling in for one of Kev's absent friends. He grins at you, causing you to quickly avert your gaze back to the bride and groom.

A wave of nausea washes over you as your eyes meet his, and you can't help but dread the remainder of the day that lies ahead. The mere possibility of encountering him multiple times fills you with frustration. He has always had a way of getting on your nerves, but that feeling had only intensified since your return.

As the ceremony concludes and the guests rise to applaud the newlyweds, you feel your posture falter, weakening from your knee. Your jaw clenches, and you make an effort to conceal the pained expression on your face, mindful of the photographers who are swiftly capturing as many photos as possible.

The last thing you wanted was to appear constipated in your brother's wedding photo album.

Kevin and his newly-wedded wife dashed down the aisle, with confetti bursting in the air and cheers resounding from the crowd. You instinctively bend your leg, trying to relieve some pressure, but as the pain radiates through the area around the bruise, you can't help but release a sharp breath.

Lance hops out of his row, crossing the aisle as the guests began mixing to head to the reception. He slides his hand around your waist to allow you to lean your weight on him when he nears you, having read the distressed expression on your face.

"You good?" he asks with genuine concern, his face hovering close to yours as he leans in to get a better look at you.

"Mm-hmm." You hum out, not having much to say that he wouldn't figure out anyway. You couldn't quite decipher which facet of his current cautiousness was an act that he was revealing to you, and you couldn't help but seriously contemplate why he hadn't pursued a career in acting, considering his ability to portray such emotions convincingly.

"Come on, let's find you somewhere to sit."

...

Part 6

Masterlist

Comment if you want to be tagged in the next part :)

Taglist: @fantasticbouquetwitchsthings @topguncultleader @spicyclover @amirahart @softiecaro @alilstressyandlotdepressy @eugene-emt-roe @e-lisa-bettan @strolleclercs @jjsprobablywrong @carmelita-holland @flowerchild-96 @rd14 @honethatty12 @keonminshea @pierre-gasssllyy @lestappenloverr @secretlyangrymagazine @chiliwhore @mentallyunstablebish @mcmuppet @xscorpioxmoon @ferrariloverr @rivivie @starkeyellow @vanillascreams @tororossoseb-blog @hiphopdancer101universe @hc-dutch @love4lando @chonkybonky @angstyeighteen @natasharomanoffisbaebby @little-angel-07 @voidskywxlker @vildetry-06 @sharllec @aundercover @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @spicyclover @mloyer @alesainz @hockey-racing-fubol @cinnamonroll2003 @honeyric3 @nikki01234

[yuikomorii]

Happy Birthday to the BEST BOY!!🥳🏀❤️

// You have the ability to accomplish everything you set your mind to, and we all know you’re the apple of Yui’s eye. Thank you for never giving up on others and for making Yui the happiest girl alive while letting her feel like a normal teenager! (*＾ワ＾*)

Love you, Ayato! 🫶🏻

Since you guys asked for a new scenario, I decided to deliver it uwu. I’m still not very confident in my writing skills and I’m aware some parts sound really cheesy but I truly hope you will enjoy it! 💖

~Ayato’s Birthday short story~

Yui: Phew… it’s finally done!

( It took me three fails to make his cake but thankfully I finished it on time! )

Uuh… It was supposed to look better though but maybe the good result lays in the taste?

— Yui tries it —

Just like I thought, the taste didn’t deceive me! I tried my best not to make it too sweet, therefore I truly hope Ayato-kun will like it.

Speaking of Ayato-kun, I wonder if he woke up. It might sound a bit childish but I really want to be the first to congratulate him~!

— Place shifts to Ayato’s room —

Yui: Eh? The door is open…? Could it be that he’s awak—…! He left?

???: Nfu, what’s with the long face? Did you and Ayato-kun have a fight~?

Yui: L-Laito-kun! Gosh, don’t just whisper in my ear like that!

Laito: Why not~? Is it because it arouses you? As expected from you, Bitch-chan, you really grow into that nick—

Yui: E-Enough…!

Look, Laito-kun… do you happen to know where exactly Ayato-kun went?

Laito: And what if I do?

Yui: Well… in that case, where is he?

Laito: Bold of you to assume I’d tell you. You’re always so naive~

Yui: Eh? That’s…—

( Of course this guy wouldn’t help me! I can’t believe I really thought asking him would be a good idea… )

Laito: Nfu, I know that face, Bitch-chan, you were judging me in your thoughts, weren’t you? How rude~

Yui: W-Wait, you got the wrong idea! I just—

Laito: And I was merely trying to do you a favor, but I suppose you don’t appreciate such things from any man, am I right?

Yui: I don’t really get what you mean…

Laito: Well…~ all I’m going to say is that if you tried using your head a little, then maybe you would be able to guess where Ayato-kun is.

Yui: Hmm…

( Now that I think about it, the weather is beautiful today, neither too hot nor too cold. As far as I recall, this is Ayato-kun’s ideal type of weather for playing basketball. In that case… could he really be outdoors? )

Ah, I might actually know the place!

Laito: See? Making use of those brain cells once in a blue moon wasn't all that difficult, was it? Now hurry up or else you won’t be the first one to wish your precious boyfriend a “happy birthday” ~

Yui: …!

( Did he eavesdrop on me today!? )

( G-Geez… It’s a bit embarrassing knowing that he listened to such things. Despite this, he truly managed to be helpful in some way. )

Y-Yeah, I’ll leave right now. By the way… thank you, Laito-kun.

— Yui walks away —

Laito: ( Nfu, I wonder if she really guessed that place right. Too bad that desperate face didn’t last any longer, otherwise I might have truly taken advantage of it.~ )

— Place shifts outside the mansion —

Yui: Hoh— that’s a bit heavy!

( I tried to fit everything for his birthday in this basket but it weighs more than I expected! )

( Uuh… I really hope Ayato-kun is around here. )

???: Tsk, damn it!

Yui: That voice—! Ayato-kun!

Ayato: Huh? Yui?

— Yui jumps into his arms —

Yui: Happy Birthday, Ayato-kun…!

Ayato: Hah? Ah… Yeah…

So you remembered it, huh?

Yui: Obviously, there’s no way I would forget such an important day!

Ayato: It wouldn't have made a difference anyway. Birthdays have never been a reason to celebrate for vampires; they are just like any other day. Basically, we couldn’t care less.

Yui: Well… that might be so, however I do care about it. It’s true that humans and vampires have distinct points of view and mindsets, but this still won’t stop me from considering this day special. After all, that’s when Ayato-kun was born and I’m grateful for that, as a result I want to celebrate your birth.

Ayato: …

Yui: ( He suddenly went silent… Ah, did I really exaggerate with that confession? )

Ayato: Yui…

Yui: …!

( He’s smiling so brightly! )

( I would have never thought those words to make Ayato-kun so happy but seeing him like that… my heart can’t help but fill up with so much joy too…! )

Ayato: Geez, I’m supposed to be indifferent about my birthday but look at me grinning like a fool due to a Chichinashi such as yourself. Now you better take responsibility or else—

Yui: ( He says it in such a threatening way but that blushy face proves exactly the opposite, fufu. )

Ayato: Oi, what’s up with that basket?

Yui: ( Oh, right! )

I got something for you!

Ayato: Heh, only for me?

Yui: Yup!

( Although, I truly hope nothing got crushed. )

— Yui opens the basket and serves cake —

Yui: I know it doesn’t look perfect but I’m confident the taste is on your liking. I remembered that you aren’t too fond of very sweet food, therefore I tried avoiding adding marzipan and focus more on the fruits instead. Do you… like it?

Ayato: Haa… there’s no need for those useless explanations. You made that whole cake for me, so yeah, isn’t it obvious that I’d like it?

Yui: Ayato-kun…

— Ayato tastes it —

Ayato: Mm… as expected, it’s good! To be honest, Takoyaki would have been a far superior choice, but I can't deny that the cake Chichinashi made is also quite tasty.

Yui: Fufu, I knew exactly that you were going to say that, so I prepared this for you!

— Yui serves him Takoyaki —

Ayato: Hah!? Are you a magician or somethin’?

Yui: N-not at all! I just know Ayato-kun loves Takoyaki so much that he would eat them everyday, hence they couldn’t miss out on his birthday, right?

Ayato: You…

— Ayato pins her down —

Yui: Eh—?

Ayato: Bet you weren’t prepared for this, were you?

Yui: ( Is he going to suck my blood? )

— Ayato kisses her —

Yui: Nn…!

Ayato: Now I am the one catching you off guard. How does that feel, eh?

Yui: Good…

Ayato: Oh? What happened to “Ayato-kun, that’s so embarrassing!” ?

Yui: I-I mean… it is a bit yet I can’t deny that Ayato-kun’s gentle kisses are the best.

Ayato: Tsk… Why not so cute and honest all the time? Is it ‘cause of my birthday or what now?

Yui: I just felt like it…

( He’s just getting cuter and cuter! )

By the way… there’s one more thing I have to give you.

— Yui starts searching —

Ayato: A photo frame?

Yui: That’s so. I asked the school photographer to take this photo exactly when you scored and brought victory to your team. The happiness you felt in that moment… that’s something I always wish for you to experience.

— Ayato slightly blushes —

Yui: I also tried to decorate the frame myself based on what you like the most b-but if it’s too childish, then I will try to——

( He’s hugging me! )

Ayato: “What you like the most” she said, but how come I don’t see her there too then?

Yui: T-That’s—!

( Was that an indirect confession!? )

Ayato: Pfft… haha, that’s exactly the reaction I expected!

Love you, idiot. You really are the best~!

— Ayato stands up and starts walking away —

Yui: W-Wah—! Hey, d-don’t make fun of me like that!

Ayato: Can’t hear you~! If you wanna tell me something, catch me then!

Yui: You meanie!

— Yui stands up and starts running after him—

Yui: ( I can’t help but feel like a child once again when playing with him like that. It’s such a nostalgic feeling that somehow feels so distant... )

( As we run around the mansion, Ayato-kun is showing me his genuine smile… that’s the face that makes me fall more and more for him each and every day. )

( I love you Ayato-kun, thank you for being born. )

[simpforrooster]

lieutenant bradshaw?

Bradley Bradshaw x f!MitchellReader

you are your boyfriend have been sneaking around behind your dad’s back for a while. 

t/w: I don't think there are any! mostly fluff 

“Roos, you know I can't be seen with you,” you giggle as your boyfriend, secret that is, pulls you into the maintenance closet. 

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw has had you wrapped around his finger for the past few months. 

“Mhmm,” he murmurs, placing kisses along your neck. He even got that little spot under your ear that turns you to complete mush. “That is why we are in the maintenance closet, Mitchell.” 

He’s playing dirty. He knows you love it when he pulls out your last name. The way he says it, soft and sweet in your ear, sends you into a tizzy. 

He finishes kissing your neck, and moves along your jaw, finally stopping on your lips. Those strong arms come around your waist, and he pulls you flush against his bottom half. Feeling how worked up he is, you know you need to cool things off before the two of you christen the maintenance closet.

“I’m running late to meet up with, Dad,” you manage to get out. 

At the mention of “Dad,” Rooster drops you as if you’re on fire. 

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell. The man who pulled your boyfriend’s papers at the academy. The man who is still haunted by the death of your boyfriend’s father. The man who is the sole reason you and Rooster have to sneak around. 

There is no way he would take to this kindly. Your dad loves Bradley, loves him like a son. He would not love knowing Bradley pinned you against the brick wall of the Hard Deck almost nightly. He’s worried that something would happen to Bradley and he would have to nurse your heart back. 

Nah, he wouldn't. He would put Penny, your step-mom, on that. Your dad has never been the mushy, gushy one. 

“You slip out the closet first, I’ll wait a few minutes, and follow,” Rooster tells you, his voice low, as if the two of you are planning for a super secret mission. 

“Hey honey!” a voice sounding vaguely like your dad, makes you spin around. Low and behold, your Dad stands there, with a confused look on his face. 

“What were you doing in the maintenance closet?” he asks. 

“Just looking for some drop cloth,” you say louder than you should, hoping Rooster hears you.

“Drop cloth?” Maverick asks. 

“Yeah, the studio is out.” “You don't use drop cloth?” Maverick points out. Before he can say anything else, you loop your arm through his and lead him to his office.

“How are things, Dad?” you ask, looking over your shoulder. Rooster manages to slip out and head down the opposite way. 

Phew. 

“You’re acting so strange, Honey,” Maverick says as he settles around his desk. You take the chair in front of him and shrug. His eyes work across your face, as if the answer to your actions is written on your forehead. 

“I don't know what you’re talking about, Dad.” You give him your award winning smile, the one that every girl-dad can't resist.

“If you say so,” he resigns, but is not convinced. 

~

“Did I see you and Rooster slip out of a maintenance closet this afternoon?” Hangman asks you at the Hard Deck later that night. He fixes you a smirk. That smirk that says he was absolutely present when Rooster slipped out after you. 

“You most certainly did not. Must’ve been someone else.” 

Jake chuckles. “Fuck, sneaking around with Rooster. Mav would hate that. Didn't know you had it in you, Little Mav.” 

You set your beer down, rolling your eyes at the nickname. “Please don't say anything, Hangman.”

“What’s in it for me?” Jake smirks again. 

“I won’t knock those pretty teeth down your throat,” You answer with your own smirk. 

“Secret is safe with me,” Jake says, for once, no ill intent.  “But when you’re done with him, you know where to find me.” 

There it is.

Rooster catches your eyes across the bar, and jerks his chin toward the door. The two of you have gotten this down to a science. Bradley always slips outside first, he’ll usually fake a phone call. You finish up your drink, and follow out behind him. 

Strong arms wrap around your waist from behind. “My beautiful girl,” Rooster whispers in your ear and you melt on contact. No guy has ever made you feel like this before.

You turn in Rooster's arms and he gently backs you into the wall. One arm snakes around your waist, the other settles on the wall above your shoulder. Rooster leans down, brushing his nose against yours. His grip on your waist tightens. 

“Stop stalling,” you breath. “Just kiss me.”

“Yes ma’am,” he drawls, a small chuckle falling from his mouth. 

Rooster’s lips mold around yours. Your hand snakes up to his collar, pulling him closer to you.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw,” you let slip. This catches him off guard, and he pulls away. His eyes darken as he takes you in. The corner of his mouth tugs upward. 

“Lieutenant Bradshaw?” The hand he has on the wall comes beneath your chin, tipping your face up. “Oh honey, you don't know what you just started.” 

Rooster kisses you like he hasn’t had food in weeks and you are a full course meal. The two of you are so caught up in each other, that you don’t notice Rooster didn’t pull you as deep along the side of the bar as normal. 

“Lieutenant Bradshaw!” Maverick’s voice sends Rooster flying fifteen feet back from you. Maverick stalks over to Rooster, stopping just before 

“Sir--” Rooster starts, but Maverick holds up a hand.

“If you hurt her,” Maverick’s jaw clenches. “I will ground your ass. One call to Cyclone. That’s all.”

Maverick turns to you with sorrowful eyes. “After all I've told you about Navy-men?” 

You smile. “You raised me around them, it was bound to happen.”

“You’re blushing, Rooster,” Maverick winks. “Please don't let me catch you making out with my daughter again.” 

a/n: not sure how I feel about this one. really felt some writer’s block on this one, and I couldn’t move on until I finished it. 

[bun-lapin]

TWST Voice Line Scene #12

💪‍‍Vargas: Keep doing those sit-ups! Don't stop until you hit 60!

❤️Ace: (slowly doing sit-ups) Ughh! I can't believe we pulled detention with Coach Vargas of all people.

♦️Cater: (out of breath) This is all your fault, Ace.

❤️Ace: Wha-?! Me?? How is this my fault?

♦️Cater: It was YOUR idea to add technomantic boosters to our brooms so that we could fly faster. And look where that landed you! You even managed to get me and Idia dragged into detention alongside you!

💀Idia: (waits for Vargas to look away then does one sit-up) …aaand 60! Phew! All done with my sit-ups!

💀Idia: (laughs nervously) H-hey, uh, am I capped now? There's no reason for me to keep working, right?

♦️Cater: …..

❤️Ace: (raises an eyebrow) You sure you didn't miss a few sit-ups there?

💀Idia: ….. (hands Ace a couple of thaumarks)

❤️Ace: (pockets the money) OH WOW~! GREAT JOB FINISHING YOUR 60 SIT-UPS SO QUICKLY, IDIA! YOU'RE AMAZING~!

TWST Voice Line Scenes Masterlist

[lifeiskentastic]

are you still making requests for ryan gosling characters? Cause I have a request for Luke and Dan dunne, I really have a soft spot for those two. Maybe Luke meets a reader who works as a waitress, and they get all flirty with each other

Thanks for the request <33 really, these two are totally deserve a special spot

Flirting Luke and gn!Reader

Gif by @crazy-about-ryan

A/N: Next post will be about Dan because I'm having a sudden creative epiphany lol;

Summary: "Come back again" is not the only thing a waiter can say to an attractive customer;

Word count: 609 words;

Btw, my requests are still open!

"Coffee and a bacon sandwich. A very extraordinary choice."

The customer looks up at you as if he have just learned that humans can talk.

"Hmm. I guess."

Having received an equally extraordinary answer, you hurriedly smiled and turned around in the opposite direction from the visitor, while simultaneously managing to reprimand yourself for your own stupidity. Seriously? "A very extraordinary choice"? My God, when did you forget how to flirt (or maybe you never even knew how to flirt)?

And this embarrassment only multiplied when, after those words, you also had to take the order to him.

"I'm Luke, by the way. I hope that's extraordinary enough for you."

You sighed, but rather in a calm manner. Phew, the main thing is that this man is not offended or anything like that.

"I'm Y/N." A relaxed smile bloomed on your face, but your tongue took over again. Of course, it had only been a few minutes since the last time. "And, in fact, the only thing extraordinary about you is your biker clothes."

You could see a truly fascinating picture of a slight smile touching his handsome face and him trying to hide it behind a cup of coffee.

"In fact, the only thing in you is your waiter's uniform. It suits you. In a very extraordinary way."

This phrase made you chuckle into your fist, which defused the atmosphere between you and Luke in a strange way. In a very extraordinary way.

"Oh, you know, I look good in a lot of different uniforms, in fact." You leaned against Luke's desk, moving closer to his still pleasantly smiling face. "I could even show you." You gave him a playful wink, and it was like the last straw. Luke couldn't help but giggle quietly, still trying to hide his too obvious mirth behind that cup.

"Ah... then I'm looking forward to that moment."

Your uncontrollable laughter quickly joined Luke's in unison.

It was supposed to be a romantic and private flirtation between strangers, but instead you looked like two fools who couldn't control their emotions in the middle of the day in a café.

And, honestly, that's even better than any seductive flirt you could have imagined.

Especially with this particular client. Luke. You wonder if it would be inappropriate to ask him out right now. Although, you've already said even more explicit things to him in public, so you both have no choice now.

When you finally wiped away the last tear of your laughter and looked directly into Luke's bright, cheerful eyes, you felt a kind of inexplicable confidence.

You opened your mouth to ask a decisive question, not even realizing that Luke had done exactly the same thing…

"Will you go on a date with me?"

You blinked. Did you hear Luke ask the same question in a chorus with you?

Well, judging by another fit of laughter from him, it was.

"Hmm, so... so you agree?"

You looked at Luke with mock thoughtfulness, whose tone became just a little worried as he seemed to consider the possibility of a no. But he had absolutely nothing to worry about. After all, you knew your exact answer the moment you saw his blond, disheveled hair in the doorway of the café.

"Sure."

Luke's relieved look made you admire him for one more beautiful moment before your angry coworkers surrounded you and dragged you back to your boring job. But that's okay, because you managed to shout after him: "Tomorrow at the cafe?" and get his confident nod.

Everything was just beginning.

[moldy-cheese-being]

Comic centric scollace prompt im thinking about writing soon (but its worded weird bc its unpolished brain to post style lol)

/under the cut bc PHEW its longer than the movie/

Just kinda, like, friends to lovers where Wallace helps scott thru autistic meltdowns, and scott is like "wow wallace is so nice to me about my meltdowns. Like, he doesn't get mad at me or make fun of me he just helps. And hes really good at helping too... Huh, he actually does more than any of my exes ever did... Hm... Whatever, its just bc I've known him for so long and we're like, best bros" but then he starts developing ✨f e e l i n g s✨ and since hes our beloved fucking idiot, he literally has no clue whats happening 💀 and he starts wanting wallace to hold him ALL the time, instead of just during meltdowns or when he (this 'he' honestly means both of them) knows one is about to happen. And starts acting weird, and feeling EXTREMELY embarrassed during meltdowns. And eventually he's just kinda cuddling with wallace after a meltdown, and scott looks up at him and has the "oh fuck. Oh no no no" moment (you know the one. We've all done it at least once) and goes to stephen and is like "HEYY STEPHEN, MY DEAREST PAL! My only other gay friend- how uh- how did you know you were gay?? And that you liked jospeh??? " and stephen (ofc) laughs at him and is like "omg who is he? Whos the guy that turned scott 'straightest dude out there' Pilgrim gay?" And scott just like looks down and Stephens like "WAI- NO- NO??? NO WAY?!??!?" and then actually helps and scotts like "well fuck what the hell do i do" and then manages to avoid wallace for like a week until, low and behold, another meltdown where wallace has to calm him down. And wallace takes his chance to ask wtf is going on w scott, and scott just starts crying again and is like "no i can't tell you you'll hate me and you're my best friend and my roommate and i can't ruin this" and wallace is like "dude wtf are you talking about??" So scott does the dramatic ass "I LOVE YOU, OKAY!?" and wallace just laughs and is like "omg did u really think that would make me hate you??? Guy, i love you too." And scotts like "??? Really???" And wallace laughs again and is like "yeah. Why else would i put up with you?" And they have a lil talk and agree to date :33

with mayhaps a short epilogue of them just being cute & gay

[juletheghoul]

Let Me Follow (Part 6)

AN: Phew! So this was fucking torture. I don't even know how to explain how hard it's been for me lately. Interaction on this site has been abysmal-and while I know we do this for fun, it sort of feels like I'm talking to myself sometimes. It's so hard to not take other people's success personally but I am trying! I have such a clear vision of where this story will go, and I have so much planned that I don't want to give up. I figured the best way to build up my self-esteem, build up my confidence was to go back to how I did it in the beginning, just write, and post. I've done my best to edit this myself, but it hasn't been beta'd. Hopefully, it pays off, enjoy! xo (enjoy the softness before the storm😅)

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) angst, language, age-gap (about 10-11 years, legal, reader is of age), Yearning, post-apocalyptic world, piv sex (wrap it up!), the softest version of this Joel that I've written to date, Grief, panic attack / ptsd / nightmare

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist Series Masterlist

It felt wrong to smile, almost silly. How could anyone smile with how things were in the world? With Johnny gone, with the pounding pain in the back of your head, with the effort and the hunger shredding a hole through your insides—you’d wipe it off your face. Had managed to keep it off for a long time, but then an animal had jumped onto the road and Joel’s arm had shot out in a protective gesture and it had creeped back in. 

“Looks like the rest of the way is on foot.” What had started out as a grinding noise, had quickly turned into dark plumes of smoke from the engine, filling the car with an acrid smell. “Shouldn’t be too far now, few hours.” His scowl was in place, but you saw it differently now–saw it for what it was. A mask, a representation of what this world did to you.

“We can manage that.” Ellie was grabbing her pack, helping Luke with the door before making her way towards the direction Joel pointed you all in. 

“Yes, we can definitely manage that.” You smiled at her, wincing slightly at the way your head pounded. 

“You okay, Sunny?” His hand lands gently on the side of your neck, turning your face towards his. “You can walk, right?” His hand sweeps up, prodding gently at the throbbing goose egg on the back of your head.

“Yeah, I’m okay, my head hurts like a bitch though. Need water soon.” His scowl seems so different now, it’s worry you see there now, instead of anger. He nods once, lingering for a moment before turning and leading the way. Luke doesn’t comment on the exchange, just gives you a small smile and follows Joel, but Ellie; she gives you a toothy grin and a thumbs up. 

Hours pass, thick trees give way to open space. A vast, beautiful landscape stretching out before all of you, seemingly untouched. Everyone is quiet, but alert as you all move closer to your destination. 

“How much longer do you think we have left, Joel?” Ellie is lagging a little bit, the hunger and thirst evident in her voice. 

“Shouldn’t be too much longer.” He turns to look at her, slowing down to let her catch up but he tenses at the sounds of horses just over the ridge in front of you. His gun flies up, but there are too many. Instantly you’re all surrounded by armed people on horseback, twenty people at least. “Get behind me.” He raises his hands in supplication, letting the gun fall onto his shoulder. “We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble, we’re just passin’ through.” 

“Drop the gun.” The person in front of Joel has a rifle pointed at him, a lot of them have guns pointed at the four of you. They have coverings on the lower halves of their faces, the one closest to Joel is yelling, and Joel drops his gun. “You-” He gestures to you, Luke and Ellie. “Take five steps back, separately.” 

“How about we just talk this through-” Joel starts to speak before anyone moves. 

“How ‘bout you shut the fuck up.” The man cuts him off, and gestures to the rest of you. 

“It’s okay, do what he says, we’ll be okay.” You nod at Ellie, moving away from Joel, your own hands up. 

“You been near infected?” The man asks no one in particular. 

“There’s no infected out here.” Joel responds.

“The hell there ain’t!” The man answers before whistling, from somewhere behind them another man emerges with a dog. “Last chance for a bullet, if you’ve been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.” The dog barks, and your heart sinks. Ellie looks to you, big eyes pleading and you take a tentative step towards her, stopping when another of the riders points his gun at you. The dog makes his way over to Joel, sniffing at his feet for a moment before rising up, friendly. 

“Like I said,” Joel calls out. “We’ll just move on.” 

“Now the rest of you.” The man calls out, and the dog sniffs Luke, and then you, moving on lastly to Ellie. Your stomach drops and your hand inches towards the knife in your pocket but after a tense breath, the dog licks Ellie’s hands. You can’t help but take a deep breath in relief. 

“You just bought yourself more seconds.” The man doesn’t lower his gun. “What are you doin’ out here?”

“We’re just lookin’ for my brother, that’s all, nothin’ more.” A woman rides forward at his words, her dark eyes focused intently on Joel’s face. 

“What’s your name?” She asks him. 

“Joel.” He answers, and it’s the magic word. She gestures for them to lower their guns. “Joel Miller, right?” She lowers the covering. 

“Yeah, do I know you?” His voice is thick with confusion. 

“I know Tommy, come on, we’ll lead you to him. Give them a few horses.” She calls out the command to no one in particular, but they rush to obey her nonetheless. 

-

You ride with them, nervously clutching Joel where you sit behind him on the horse they gave him. 

“You’re okay Sunny, just hold on. Don’t squeeze your thighs.” He speaks low and you take a deep breath.

“Sorry, I’m afraid of falling off.” You tighten your grip on him, squeezing tightly around his middle. 

“I won’t let you.” He presses his hand to yours, reassuring you. 

It isn’t long before you arrive at a high wall, with people walking along the top of it. A giant gate is closed to all, until Maria–the woman on the horse gives a signal, and the giant gate opens up for your party. The scene that greets you just inside the gates shocks you into silence. It’s a town, a lively, inhabited, working town. People mill about a central high street, kids play and watch your party move through the street with curiosity instead of fear. 

It’s a lot to take in, working lights and shops seemingly open and in good condition, scaffolding and people repairing things–working together. 

“Tommy!” Joel yells out, startling you and you see one of the men on the scaffolding turn and look, rapidly making his way down while Joel dismounts the horse you’re sharing and runs towards him. It makes you smile to see and hear Joel so happy, to see him find his own brother and it makes you think of Johnny. 

I wish you could have seen this place, Johnny.

–

The food tastes too good to keep any semblance of decorum, instead you shove it into your mouth faster than you can chew it, breathing deeply through your nose in order to fill your belly. Maria and Tommy sit across from the three of you in what was essentially a town cafeteria–Luke had been taken straight to the town doctor and you’d all been assured he’d be fed. 

Joel speaks, Ellie argues, and you keep quiet. Tommy and Maria are an item, and if you had to hazard a guess, Tommy has been less than kind in his description of his older brother. There’s something in the air between them, Maria and Tommy, the two of them versus Joel. A look of judgement in her gaze and it raises your hackles. 

“The house across the street from us is empty, the one next to it too if you wanted your own place–” She looks at you but Joel cuts her off. 

“We stay together. The three of us.” He reaches over, taking your hand in his. Tommy isn’t the only one who’s found someone and it makes your heart soar to have him claim you openly like this. 

“That works.” She smiles politely, Tommy too. “How ‘bout a tour?” Joel nods, and you make your way out, with a full belly and a full heart.

-

The town is well and truly a marvel, the culmination of hard work, strategic location and the well oiled machine that is their patrol. They’ve managed to rebuild a functioning, safe town; full of most of the comforts the world had had before, only on a much smaller scale. You keep quiet as she guides the three of you through their little corner of normalcy, unable to stop yourself from noting where all of the supplies are kept, where the food stores are, how many horses are in the stable. 

There’s a tense energy flowing between Joel and Tommy, something unspoken in the air, an anger, a resentment and you can’t exactly blame Joel for his share of it. His brother has been here, safe and happy, with a purpose–content to leave his brother in the dark in order to protect what they have here. You can almost understand why, there’s something else though, something in the way Maria watches Joel that plants a seed of suspicion in your brain. Your suspicion deepens and if you had to hazard a guess, he’s told her some unsavoury things about the man you’d come to–what, love? The thought is sobering, you push it away. 

Maria suggests showing you where you’ll be staying, mentions getting cleaned up while she moves away from them, gesturing for the two of you to follow, and with a nod from Joel, you do.

-

The house was furnished from before, everything old and a bit dusty, but otherwise in good condition. Relatively clean, working lights, a hot shower. Heaven. You stay in there a little longer than necessary, too content in the warmth of the water to make it as quick as you’d planned. Your little trailer–although having served as an oasis by today’s standards–didn’t hold a fucking candle to this. 

You smile to yourself, picturing Joel melting in the warmth, his handsome face tipped back in unadulterated joy. It almost made you regret not waiting for him, almost. That first time Johnny had rigged up the trailer to catch rainwater and figured out a way to somehow connect the whole thing to a powersource and heat it, that same feeling coursed through you now as the steam filled the ensuite, only now it was painted with a bittersweet brush. You’d gotten good at pushing away thoughts of Johnny and what could have possibly–probably–happened to him, and you did it again now. You forced his breezy smile, his dumb jokes, the comforting piece of home that he’d been out of your mind and focused on getting clean. 

Maria had left some clothing for the three of you in the house, doing a remarkably accurate job at guessing what would fit and once dressed, Ellie had run out of the house, itching to explore. It served you well enough. It gave you time to rest and to regroup. It gave you a chance to think about exactly what it was you wanted to do now that something like this was an option. 

—

The house looks normal, really normal. Not just the normal he’s had to adjust the definition of the word to over the last twenty years, either. It’s just a house. It’s just a suburb, just a neighbourhood relatively untouched, by the ravages of the last two decades. A two-story home with good bones, a home he imagined could be stable for him, for Sarah. 

The thought of her forces the air out of his chest, punches it out of him with the force of a gunshot. He hadn’t let himself think about her in so long that it shakes him, freezes him where he stands on the porch like some sort of statue. It had been twenty years since he’d lost her, and yet he can still smell her hair in his nose, can still feel the weight of her in his arms, can still hear the sound of her voice and it breaks his heart all over again. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and lets the anger, and the hurt, the rage of his monumental loss pass engulf him.

His heart pounds in his chest, the blood it beats booming like a drum in his ears. His vision blurs as he stands there, terrified and bewildered, swaying as though caught in a massive wave and struggling to breathe. His hand shoots out and he braces himself against the wall of the house. He focuses on the brick under his hand, the grit of it digging into his palm. 

Breathe Joel, breathe. 

His lungs fill with air. 

In. Out. Repeat.

His vision eventually clears as he catches his breath, the pounding in his ears lessens and he finally feels like he can move his legs and after a few more steadying breaths, he leaves whatever the episode was, and the memory of his daughter on the porch. 

—

He groans as he makes his way up the stairs and you can’t help but smile, anticipation and excitement and a whole bunch of feelings you can’t, or maybe won’t name swirling in your gut as you wait for him to find you. The scowl is there when he finally opens the right door, his eyes burning into yours but there’s something else there too. 

“Everything okay?” You sit up at the sight of him, pale and no doubt clammy by the looks of him, “Did something happen?” The fear doesn’t creep, it slams into you. 

“No no, everythin’s okay. Just tired.” His eyes soften, but only a little. “You look…cozy.” He raises an eyebrow at finding you in bed, quite obviously cleaned up and relaxing. “Shower working?” 

“Yes, I am very comfortable. It’s a real bed, Joel—real blankets and a real house… lights and hot water.” You can’t help but gush, and smile and kneel up to speak to him, “go, go shower and get clean. Maria brought us some clothes, here—“ you all but crawl out of the bed and rush over to the dresser, grab him a towel and soft sleep things, hurrying to shove them into his hands. 

“Hold your horses, girl—where’s Ellie?” He quirks his head, listening for her.

“She’s fine, in the bedroom down the hall, she was passed out when I checked in on her about an hour ago. Now go! Get clean, mister.”

“Okay okay, Sunny, I’m goin’.” Both his tone and his smile are soft, “be right back.” He grumbles halfheartedly, but does what you ask all the same. 

He takes just as long as you thought he might, the hot water and steam casting its spell on him, just as it had on you. 

“Jesus Christ,” He looks so much softer than you’ve ever seen him, standing at the door in a loose shirt and some boxer shorts, holding his dirty pile of rags, “that was the best shower I’ve taken in years.” He sets down the pile before making his way over to the bed. 

“Life Changing, truly.” You smile up at him, giddy at the thought of having him here, safe and protected, in a real bed. “I had almost forgotten what it was like.” You move in a little closer as you speak, itching to snuggle up to him, but keeping your distance all the same. Despite his kiss, his open declaration in the dining hall, it wasn’t easy to forget being pushed away.

“The little setup you had was pretty good.” He must see the doubt, must see the way your fingers twitch with want and he makes the first move, pulling the blanket up and opening his arms. You crawl into his embrace with a toothy grin.

“Nowhere near as good as this.” You bury your face into the skin of his neck and inhale, eyes rolling into the back of your head when his clean scent hits you, “God, I love soap.” You all but moan it into his neck and he laughs, a genuine, deep rumble that fills your heart with something.

“Yeah I bet you do, I’m sorry about the state of me before. You smell pretty great yourself.” He wraps himself closer too, skimming his nose along any inch of skin he can reach and it’s almost as if the world outside doesn’t exist. This is the only thing that matters. Him, you, this bed—Ellie, safe in her room. 

“I scrubbed a lot, l probably took off a few layers of skin.” You run your fingers through his hair, basking in the feeling of his touch, basking in his voice and the soft caress of his breath against your skin. Ignoring the tiny little voice that warns he might change his mind later.

Stop that, just enjoy a good fucking thing here.

You scold yourself, bringing your focus back to him.

“Me too, reckon I needed it, bad.” His hands move from your back, up to your skull and you wince when he touches the goose egg. “Still hurts? I should go find Tommy, see if he’s got any painkillers for you.” He almost goes to move away and while your heart sings at his readiness to leave the comfort of this to take away your pain, your fingers dig into his back and hold.  

“Don’t you dare.” He laughs, and gets back into place.

“Yes ma’am, I’ll do it in the morning.” He takes another look at where you’d been hurt before tucking you close, and pulling the blanket up over you both. “It feels so strange to lay here, almost normal.” 

“I know, it’s almost too weird.” Your leg lifts of its own accord and hooks over his middle, “I have my knife on the nightstand beside me, but I almost feel like I should have it under my pillow.”

“I know what you mean, been livin’ in fear a long time. That doesn’t just go away after a hot shower and a good meal.” His hand comes down and holds onto your thigh, as though you’d both done this a million times, you smile into his neck. 

“Can we stay here?” The question has been there all day, burning a hole in the back of your brain and into the tip of your tongue, “Do you want to stay here?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t even know what I’d do with myself here.” You bite your lip at his admission, “If you wanted to, I would. I’d go wherever you go.” His tone is soft again, his eyes averted and you can see it’s hard for him to admit that out loud. “I know I’m hard to be around sometimes, but I’m tryin’.” His hand sweeps up your thigh as he speaks, giving himself something to focus on, ground himself with.

“I know, Joely. I can see it.” You lean in and kiss his cheek, pressing yourself closer to him, pushing past the lump in your throat to speak. “Once Ellie does what she needs to do, we can all live here.”

“We’ll have to see how that goes, her and the fireflies.” He says nothing more, and you leave it there.

A yawn slips out and before you’ve even finished, he’s reaching over and turning off the light on his side. His arms, the soft sweep of his hands on your skin, his voice in your ear and his lips at your temple all work their magic and lull you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

His whole body twitches, and that’s what wakes you up, bleary eyed and half terrified. You barely have time to rub at your eye with the heel of your hand before he’s moving again, his head jerking side to side and you call to him, but he doesn’t hear you.

“Joel, wake up,” you put your hand on his shoulder, softly, “Joel!” 

He lurches forward violently, his arms flailing in the darkness and you know he’s still in the nightmare, the terror bleeding through into reality for a moment before he realizes where he is. 

“It was just a bad dream,” you reassure him, keeping your voice soft and calm, “you’re okay, come.” You open your arms to him and even though he’s awake, he still takes a few deep breaths before moving. Whatever he’d dreamt, it had been bad. He breathes hard as he settles beside you, the sheen of terror shining on the parts of his face illuminated by the moon filtering into the room. “Do you want to talk about it?” You run your fingers through his hair, doing your best to soothe him. 

“I–” He frowns, opening his mouth, then closing it, and repeating the action a couple of times before answering again, “It’s just, everythin’.” He lets go of a big breath, and melts into the bed, melts into you. “I just, I dreamt somethin’ bad happened–I think. I don’t even know anymore.” his breath fans across your skin as he speaks, raising goosebumps in its wake.

“I get it,” You press your lips to his neck, “Happens to me too, sometimes.” 

The novelty of this moment isn’t lost on you, the stark contrast between when you first met and now would have been unbelievable to you back then.  

“First night in a real bed, and this is what happens.” He scoffs in the dark. The words are meant to be light, but he can’t hide the annoyance threaded in the tone.  

“Well, we could take advantage,” your thumb brushes against the plump of his lower lip, but you don’t push it further, “what do you think?” He almost doesn’t let you finish your sentence, instead his mouth presses against yours, forestalling any further conversation, and filling your stomach with butterflies. 

It’s almost embarrassing how fast your body responds to him, the trail his hands leave across your skin like an electric current. His palm skates up under the loose shirt and finds the weight of your breast, his thumb brushing over the stiff peak in sync with the groan he feeds directly into your mouth. You scramble to get closer, feeling the frantic energy in his hands and matching it.

It feels so fast, feels like just a moment before you’d been sleeping and not clamouring to eat each other alive. But it also feels so slow, like no matter how hard you both breathe one another in, no matter how quickly you rip off each other's layers, you cannot get close enough, fast enough.

It’s then that the realization hits you. There, on the edge of this bed that isn’t yours, but could be. It’s there when the layers are finally fucking gone, when your mouths are fused together but barely moving, when you’re finally fully seated and your aching pussy is stretched around the thickness of him. 

I love you.

His forehead rests against yours while you sit on him, snug, and tight, and wet. The two of you sharing each other's breath, the nightmare forgotten, or most likely repressed. You try to shoo the thought away and focus on the way he feels, on the way he fills you so perfectly. You focus on the hands that hold onto your ass, on the broken moans he breathes onto your skin.

God, I love you.

It pops up again, unbidden and you frown to yourself, trying again to focus on him. 

“What’s wrong baby?” His eyes are on you now, his frown a mixture of pleasure and worry. “Am I hurtin’ you?” He holds your chin so tenderly, it makes your heart ache.

“No, Joely, it feels so good.” You kiss him, relishing in the fact that you can, but it isn’t enough because he pulls away for a moment.

“You sure?” He cradles your face in his big hands and it’s a double edged sword. It’s everything you never thought you’d have, it’s comfort and belonging, but it’s also a void. A black hole you could fall into, and never crawl out of. It’s a weakness, a stupid, wreckless risk that this world no longer seems to have any space for. You can see it, the black pit of despair in his eyes, the trust and gamble it is to love another person and it shifts like the colours of an oil slick stain on concrete when it rains. From terrifying, to beautiful. 

“I’m okay, I promise.” You press a soft kiss to his mouth again, and lie to both him, and yourself.

---

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[herrlindemann]

Metal Hammer - June 2019

Interview with Paul, Schneider, Flake and Richard

How did you motivate yourselves to record an album again after the long absence from the studio?

Richard: It wasn't that easy. If we want to go into the studio or write an album, it can't be done within a few weeks. That's why we always think very carefully about whether we really have the strength and stamina to do it. At the end of the day, you never know where we'll end up. It's always an adventure with us! In 2015, the idea of making a new album came up for the first time. I really didn't feel like doing it at the time because I thought it would involve a lot of controversy. But then we pulled ourselves together and said: Let's try to take all the pressure off. We are free from any contracts, our own masters. So let's just have a look. We start rehearsing and then when we have three or four songs that are okay, we put them out. And if we are not satisfied, we let it be completely.

Schneider: I understand the fans who might be annoyed after the long wait. But we need the time to be really good. That is always our aim: to get the maximum out of every note. Sometimes it's just a few percentage points that we improve within weeks, but they make the difference. But it's not easy: I wasn't always sure whether this record would actually exist. We have now spent three years in the rehearsal room and in the studio. The nice thing about it: In no other phase of the band's history have we understood each other as well as we do now, didn't yell at each other at work and thus survived musical crises.

Paul: But honestly, if I had known beforehand what kind of process this was going to be, phew my god. (Laughs) There really is a lot of blood, sweat and tears, anger and stress in this album.

You have decided to go new ways for the recordings. How did that happen?

Richard: We just wanted to try something new. And also in the way we produce — first we went to France with Tom Talget and Olsen Involtini instead of Jacob Hellner and Stefan Glaumann as before. Change is always a fragile thing: On the one hand, you don't want to change what you're successful with. On the other hand, you have the desire to develop as a musician. We then decided to leave our comfort zone. That didn't go smoothly either, at first we didn't really get along with Tom and Olsen. And Jacob Hellner has been a father figure in a way; someone who properly directs a production. Olsen doesn't do that and Tom doesn't do that. For me it felt like: Nobody knows where we should go anymore... Here you realize again: Astrologically speaking, Rammstein is fire, water and earth at the same time. What we lack is air, i.e. lightness. We tried to get air in. Olsen Involtini is such an aerial person.

Schneider: He managed to lead us through the difficult development phases of the album. We often have deadlocks: three of us are for one solution, three for the other. Then we just didn't continue, one idea fell by the wayside. That's where Olsen came in — he was in charge as producer, and you can feel that in the songs. Through him we came to new inspirations that we would not have found on our own.

Paul: This development was very important for us. We didn't want to make another album without challenges. We were about doing it differently just to do it differently. With Jacob it was like with a teacher on a school trip. The longer we were on the road, the more respect for each other dwindled. I love trying something where you don't know at the beginning what it will be like at the end. So it was a good idea for Richard to involve Olsen. When we have someone we accept—and that's not always easy for us—then it feels good to hear an informed opinion. With the six of us, everything is always very uncoordinated.

Did these new paths also encourage your creativity?

Schneider: On this album, I played my instrument very slowly in order to get involved in a way that served the respective song. It wasn't important to me to show what I can do — I only play what's really required on the album.

Richard, did you feel that ideas you brought up were more readily accepted by others?

Richard: Nah, I felt like my ideas were being viewed extremely critically. Of course, that's also because I've tried to push certain things through in the past. That sticks. Because I work a lot, there is sometimes hardly any space for the others. In addition, I have to make a sound. This time I worked with Till on some ideas and then brought finished demos to our meetings. But they were also picked apart, of course.

Is Till your first point of contact within the band?

Richard: It depends. He's hard to get hold of at times, then the others come into play first.

So in your case primarily Paul?

Richard: It used to be that Paul and I thought completely differently. Simply because we are different types. This time we often agreed. There was a change between me and Paul, which I find incredibly refreshing and also very productive. I don't even know how it happened that there wasn't any competition in the songwriting phase this time... Maybe because I thought: «Hey, if this is a good idea, it will eventually catch on. And if not, I'll take them to another project. » That worked for the most part, and it gave me a certain balance.

Paul: We had quite a long time off, after the break we got closer again. With an undertaking as intensive as Rammstein, you have to take a break from time to time, otherwise you'll eventually become stupid in the head. Richard and I first had to learn, in a creative sense, to be in one room again — Schneider helped us a lot with that.

But aren't you really good when you can rub each other?

Richard: Yes, that's true for me. But that meant that no one could stand me anymore. Lots of loneliness. I've learned. Whenever I thought it wouldn't work anymore, now I really have to say something, I consciously withdrew.

Have you ever thought about not continuing?

Richard: Of course! 100 times! Played through in any form... I'm definitely only doing Rammstein because I really want to. And I can still take the time to do other projects. They are and were very important to me. I probably wouldn't have survived without it. I recently asked myself the question: "What else should happen in my life?" I am a person who loves challenges. And, yes, Rammstein isn't everything in my life. It shouldn't be everything.

How do the others think about it?

Flake: I noticed that I can do something at Rammstein that I couldn't do in another world, I would never quit there. It's not even important to me that I play. I could just drive around with the troops, that would be enough for me. For me, that's the most beautiful thing in the world, especially this walking feeling. I was lucky that it's a band and not a gangster gang. But I would have found it just as good from the heart.

Schneider: We always have those moments, especially before the production periods, when we ask each other what is important for each individual and what the future should bring for all of us. While we haven't actually talked about an ending yet, we recognize that Rammstein is a finite story, even if there's no plan for it yet.

Paul: As long as we feel that the ship is still sailing and that the port has not yet been reached, we will continue. Should we enter a port, I would not be sad. I'm very fortunate to have a life alongside Rammstein. My personal goals with the band have been achieved for a long time anyway: I wanted to play at the Huxley in Berlin once and get on the plane with my guitar case. (laughs)

After that you made a tick. It would be much more difficult not to repeat oneself, especially in terms of content. Was it difficult to work out the themes of the eleven songs?

Schneider: The topics only emerge towards the end: With us, the musical ideas always come first, then Till gets the tapes. He had some incredibly creative periods on this production where he would rush to write everything we came up with. That was a great pleasure for us — I personally didn't expect it in this form, after all these years.

Were you worried about failing with the album?

Richard: If you work on an album for three or four years, you logically lose the relation. You don't know anymore if it's good or bad. But because we said at the beginning: « We'll just do something and if it doesn't work, we'll throw it away », no such concern arose. It was important that we didn't put ourselves under any pressure.

The success, especially that of the first single 'Deutschland' plus video, proves you right. Do you think the song stands out?

Paul: Anyway, there were really long discussions about the song. We thought hard about how to make a song about Germany that isn't embarrassing. Especially with this song, every point, every word was fought for until everyone was satisfied.

Schneider: The song inspired everyone in the band. In the beginning there were two different versions, but thanks to Olsen we were able to collectively choose one. For me, the song is about the ambivalent emotional relationship to this country. People of my generation can understand that. First there were two countries, suddenly one was gone. There were also times when I couldn't get the word 'Germany' off my lips. There was the FRG and the GDR, not Germany. I'm getting better at it now. It's a topic that's been on our minds for ages. German lyrics with heavy music — that's what we stand for. And now we managed to make a song about Germany, it's a big step for the band. The video is also very special to me: a reminder not to forget what used to be — but in a Rammstein way. A wall full of emotional historical events that come together in one clip. Like a teaser for a monumental film that you want to see afterwards.

Aren't you afraid that the song might be misinterpreted? 

Schneider: For me, the song is an attempt to describe the state our generation is in. We live in a time in which many dare to express opinions that are no longer only propagated at the regulars' table.

Won't it feel weird when 80,000 fans on the stadium tour are chanting ‘Deutschland’ at the same time?

Paul: Our goal is for people who are as uptight as we are to shout out ‘Deutschland’ without feeling bad. It's very important that you can shout out ‘Deutschland’ once a year, at least at the Rammstein concert. You can go back to work the next day and feel ashamed. (laughs)

Flake: Playing in the stadium is actually something for opera. I've never seen a cool young band in the stadium, that's more for the half-dead, Rolling Stones or AC/DC. I would also never go to the stadium to see a band, it's not nice for either the performer or the spectator. That reminds me of the East with its cultural program. You see something, but you can't relate to it at all.

Will we hear explanatory announcements on the upcoming tour before you play the new songs, or will it stay with short and concise greetings?

Flake: I always scold Till when he’s too nice. (Laughs) I don't want to play in a band that's begging for applause either. I find that disgusting, I have to break up. I also think bowing at the end is stupid. The fans will clap if they want to, so I don't have to bow extra.

How does the new album compare to the earlier works?

Richard: I'm a big Mutter fan. This is 'our' album for me, that's why we play almost all the songs live. The new tracks also have this potential: I think that they are accepted live faster than the older albums because they are catchy. In hindsight, LIFAD wasn't our strongest album. I think the new album is much more interesting and musical, less controlled. Now we're kind of breaking out — at least that's how I feel about it. I'm often asked about the difference between the last album and the current one. I then answer: To me, the new album sounds like Rammstein in 3D. It has depth that we haven't had before.

And, still fancy another Rammstein album?

Schneider: You never know what the emotional set-up will be like in the next few years. We have learned not to limit ourselves too much on this topic. The desire is definitely there, but if not everyone wants it, then it may well mean the end.

Richard: There are five more songs that have already been written and mixed. Material is not so the problem. But another album? It's set in the stars.

[finalfrontierpublishing]

It slipped my mind that I kind of promised a making-of post - sorry @notabuddhist, who so kindly gave me permission to bind One of Many Great Fires for @pleasantboatpress!

I've tried to include as many making-of photos but sometimes i am just a shit photo taker so I am very sorry in advance.

Step 1: Stitch a text block and planning, Endband making

Anyone who knows me knows I love a good rounded book. I started rounding books from my third bind and haven't looked back.

I took a little while to get to this as it required colour printing and I don't have a colour printer at home. I finally got off my ass close to the end of Binderary and went to the printer I usually go to to print my coloured prints - luckily they didn't read my gay porn or ask me about it, though I've been getting increasingly pointed questions about what exactly i'm making.

glue round number 1 and trim with my guillotine, and then i take my trusty hammer to the spine to do some rounding.

So, okay, anyone who's read this fic knows it takes place on Vulcan. And i've seen enough imagery on star trek to know Vulcan is endless red sand and heat and oh boy, i feel hot just thinking about it.

I knew red would be a colour that fit thematically and I had recently found lovely marbled paper that really looked so much like the gas giant appearance of Jupiter but red. I then pulled out my trusty colibri cranberry bookcloth to do a couple of colour match checks- i love colibri and will never not recommend it.

Usually at this point, I do my endbands - and I did a simple two colour front bead endband because when i started this, that was all I knew how to do.

Step 2: Case making

I recently found out that what i usually do for books is called the square back bradel bind (though technically this is not square back), but you get my meaning.

Case is made, and then glued to bookcloth. Look at those crisp edges, yum yum. I'm generally a messy glue user, so you can see all the bits of paper stuck to the back of the half-done case, also with big F and Bs drawn on them because i never remember which side i want the front and back to be. The case looks pretty good with nary a glue stain. (I did a good job with glue management this time, phew)

Step 3: Decorative steps

My usual go-to is HTV because I'm not quite adept at other arty decorative methods like paint or usage of the foil quill. I decided to go with vulcan calligraphy on the back - with a river binding strip of marble paper in the middle. To make it look extra fancy, i made little silver HTV strips to border the river binding strip, though it warped a little from the heat because it was so ridiculously thin.

Step 4: Casing in

No photos of this because i'm usually hopping on one foot doing things on speedmode with PVA.

Shall pay tax with this photo - I love taking photos of my bookshelf and I really loved the burst of colour of the bookshelf after Binderary'23 was over.

I have made something like 21 case binds, but nearly 30 book binds (inclusive of coptic and stab) in total. that's a pretty decent number for someone who's only been binding for the last 9 months.

[jujumin-translates]

Event | 7th Anniversary: All Actors Aboard! | Chapter 2: VELUDO STATION MEMORY ✕ Yuki Rurikawa

*Door slides open*

Muku: Ah, Yuki-kun. Good work.

Yuki: Good work. Did your homeroom get done early today?

Muku: They didn’t really have much to say, so it was over quickly. Seems like homeroom for your class was a little longer, Yuki-kun.

Yuki: Yeah… pretty sure some of those guys have been skipping out on cleaning time recently.

Yuki: Whatever, let’s not talk here and just go home now.

Muku: Ah, yeah. Let’s go.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Kazunari: Ah! Yukki and Mukkun! Good worksies~♪

Yuki: Good work.

Muku: What a coincidence. Are you headed home now, Kazu-kun?

Kazunari: Yep! Guessing you two are headed there too? Let’s head back together!

Yuki: Well, not like it really matters considering we’re all going back to the same place.

Kazunari: …Hehe, whenever I see the two of you going home together like this, it always reminds me of something.

Yuki: What does it remind you of?

Kazunari: When you first joined the troupe, you guys always walked home separately as camouflage, right?

Muku: Ah, now that you mention it.

Yuki: That was because we didn’t want the guys at school to know we were doing theater back then.

Kazunari: Guess it couldn’t really be helped back then~. Anyway, you both went to and from school separately for a while then, right?

Kazunari: Actually, I was a little worried about you guys… I was always wondering about that.

Kazunari: That’s why now it makes me supes happy to see you two going to and from school together like this.

Muku: I never knew you felt like that, Kazu-kun.

Yuki: Same here. Never thought that us going to and from school would make you so happy.

Kazunari: Well, that’s ‘cause I’ve never told anyone that before~. But y’know, there’s still something that I’ve been wondering about…

Yuki: What?

Kazunari: How’d you two even start going to and from school together in the first place?

Muku: Huh, what did start it?

Yuki: That’d probably be…

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Flashback*

Yuki: (...Gross. It’s kind of crowded here. Why even are there so many people here anyway…?)

Muku: …Huh, Yuki-kun?

Yuki: Oh, Muku? You got here before I did.

Yuki: What’s this about? Why are there so many people here?

Muku: One of the trains on the other line stopped, so there’s lots of people stuck on the platform.

Muku: And that’s making it hard to get through the ticket gate… What should we do, Yuki-kun…

Yuki: Well, we can’t be late for school, so we’ll just have to force our way through…

Muku: R-Right. Alright, let’s do our best to get onto the platform!

Muku: Ah, it’s probably best we don’t get separated, so you should grab onto my clothes or bag, Yuki-kun.

Yuki: What?

Yuki: (Hold onto him…? That said, I don’t know if I’d be able to get through this crowd of adults all by myself…)

Yuki: …Fine. I’ll hold on to you.

Muku: Yeah! Make sure to hold on tight!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Yuki: …

Yuki: (We managed to get on the train, but… there’s still a lot of people in the train car, and I’m stuck surrounded by a bunch of huge adults, of all people.)

Yuki: (If I’m not careful, I’ll stumble or lose my footing.)

Yuki: …Gh.

Yuki: (This might be bad…)

Muku: Here, Yuki-kun. Switch places with me. …There, here you go.

Yuki: (Phew… I feel way better now that I’ve moved to a different spot.)

Yuki: Thanks…

Muku: No problem!

Yuki: (...Since we switched places, now it’s probably hard for Muku to be standing there.)

Yuki: (And yet he’s standing there so naturally and doesn’t look uncomfortable at all… Is that the influence of shoujo manga…?)

Yuki: (Even if it is, that’s still his true self. It sure is something that I probably wouldn’t be able to do.)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Yuki: …

Muku: Ah, Yuki-kun!

Yuki: Muku? I thought you left the dorms first… what are you doing here? …Don’t tell me, has the train we take stopped again?

Muku: No, the train’s working just fine.

Yuki: Then why…

Muku: I thought that maybe you’d come if I waited a bit… I was waiting to head to school with you like we did yesterday.

Muku: But… sorry, that might be a little annoying of me, huh? I don’t know why you’d want to go to school with me…

Yuki: …I don’t mind heading to school with you.

Muku: Huh?

Yuki: Our names are already on the company’s website, and we hand out flyers together, don’t we?

Yuki: …That’s why, starting tomorrow, don’t wait for me here at the station, just tell me when you’re ready to leave at the dorms.

*Flashback end*

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Muku: And that’s how we ended up going to school together.

Kazunari: That’s a supes sweet memory! If something like that happened to me at the station, I’d def remember it every time I got to Veludo Station!

Yuki: (That’s true… it is a Veludo Station memory.)

Yuki: (Writing about it for the web edition of “VELUDO” probably wouldn’t be too bad of an idea.)

*Tires screech*

Yuki: That car…

*Car door opens*

Tenma: You guys heading home?

Muku: Tenma-kun!

Yuki: Of course it’s you.

Kazunari: Totes getting some major déjà vu right now! We’ve seen this one before!

Tenma: Huh? I mean, I guess so.

Igawa: Tenma-kun, would you like me to drive everyone back home with you?

Tenma: Nah, I’m going to walk with these guys.

Igawa: Understood. Well then, I’ll pick you up from the dorms tomorrow. Good work today.

Tenma: Yeah, same to you.

*Car drives off*

Yuki: Why didn’t you just have him drive us home?

Tenma: That doesn’t matter. I just felt like walking home today.

Kazunari: Well then, let’s all get along and head home!

Muku: Yeah, we’re glad Tenma-kun is coming home with us! Right, Yuki-kun?

Yuki: …Well, I mean, it’s not like it’s a bad thing.

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

[amalgamateofficial]

Another Amalgamate Ch. 20 Progress Report!

We're getting sooooo close now!

A couple days ago I finally managed to read the whole chapter in one day (meaning I didn't have to spend hours stopping to edit things), and then yesterday I managed to do it again even faster, so today I'm gonna speed read the chapter out loud and try to see how long I can go without touching the document. I'll probably do the speed reading thing a few times (I go through this editing process with every Amalgamate chapter so this is normal), but if today's reading goes well, I'm also gonna start putting all the A/N content together :D

So, I still can't give an exact day when this will all be done, but we are reeeaaally close now. My personal goal is to have the chapter up before the month is over which is, uh... about a week from now. Phew, that's intimidating ;;;; But I'm gonna try cuz it's killing me how long this chapter's been taking T_T

(In my defense, tho, the chapter's word count is yikes)

[myeyesarebrighter]

Marvel of pharmaceuticals.

Spironolactone and Silva sulfa cream have slowed my HS. Most days it isn’t noticeable. Before them, I had painful boils most days.

Spiro has also thinned the hair on my entire body. It’s amazing. I have a normal amount of leg hair, and my chin hair is finer and about half as much as before. My skin on my face? I literally haven’t had a single painful breakout since starting. I had one per week before. No more red welts, no more slow healing and scarring. Gone. Done. The end. Like zero dollars spent on acne treatments since I started this $3 Rx. I’ve never ever had that since puberty.

I’m on sema. It’s helping me eat more appropriate sized portions and freeing my brain from the constant nagging of food. Sure my weight is slowly dropping, but the mental impacts outweigh the body.

Prozac. My greatest love. I upped the dose by 5mgs and within a week felt a solid impact. I can motivate to do shit, tackled two big things at work that I’d been toiling over for weeks, and have gotten the house back in control. Laundry is caught up, things are put away. I feeeeel so normal again. Phew. This is kinda how it was when I started taking it too.

Finally, my periods are so manageable now too. I think it’s the sema plus the spiro. Spiro helped a lot, but sema changed them further. I get a very normal period, medium flow at most, only a few days, and it doesn’t leave me feeling depleted. I was going through super tampons in a few hours before, and now I need to remember to change a regular. The cramps are basically all gone.

Just talk to a good doc if your shit seems off. 2023 was the year of dr and specialist appts for me, literally got them all caught up, and 2024 will be for maintaining good habits of self care. Maybe you don’t need a little treat or a coffee. Maybe you need to really take care of yourself. You’re worth it.